#between me and them which is a prose which is just. hard to get through in places for me. like really technically beautiful i can appreciat

[tkwrites]

Okay I'm done now and heading to bed, one last question.

Can you name a favourite fic for each of the boys?

Hi my Lovely,

There are quite a few of your asks I haven't answered, but please know I'm not ignoring them. They'll just take a little more time to respond to.

I can tell you my favorite fics, though:

Matthew Tkachuk - Back To You because it's such a complete story. I love the way he and Jessie meet, lose each other, and then are thrown together by fate again. I also feel like I really captured that sassy side of Matthew's personality in this fic, which I was really worried about at the time I was writing it. This is also the story that I think would be easiest to flesh out into a full length novel.

Nico Hischier - I love all the parts of his story for different reasons, but I think It Doesn't Matter Part II is my favorite. I had actually written the whole sequence of nude sketches for another character, but ended up scrapping the whole story because I couldn't find any real conflict for them to resolve. When I realized I could use it for Nico and Lena if she was an artist, I was thrilled and got to work rewriting it for them. In the end, the only things that stayed the same were 5 of the 6 poses. Getting into and out of them changed, as did the characters relating to each other during them. I love all the longing and awkward tension between them in this piece, as well as how they finally end up confessing their love for each other. Finally, the culmination of all of their longing into the final sex scene? Chefs kiss.

Quinn Hughes - This one is so hard. I've written so much about Quinn and Sarah and I love all of the pieces for one reason or another. If I had to pick three favorites, they would be:

1). Five Days of Joy because I'm so proud of this fic. It took SO long to write, but I love the way it turned out. I love that we go through so many consecutive days and such a gamut of emotions with Sarah and Quinn.

2). The Second Time is Better because I love the portrayal of a more real first time. One of the things that drives me batty about romance novels is how the characters get together and always seem to have this instantly amazing sexual connection. No room for human failing or first time jitters. In reality, it takes time to build sexual chemistry and connection, and I went into this piece wanting to show at least some of that.

and 3). Second Nature because I think it has the prettiest prose. I still think this passage is some of the best writing I've ever done:

This was ultimate flirting in Quinn’s book. Something he knew he could do. When someone wanted to talk about music, or art or classic cars, he was a fish out of water. But talking hockey? He could do that all day long. Convincing someone to like the sport he loved so much? There wasn't a more ideal situation. 

“Oh, good,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him. 

This was a perfect evening. Casual and comfortable. Cooking for someone he - liked, and kissing her whenever he wanted, taking no worry of who might be watching. 

Letting himself get swept up in the kiss, he slid his hands over her hips and tried to commit her scent to memory. No matter what happened - though he was pretty sure nothing bad was ever going to happen with Sarah - he wanted to remember this. She smelled like a dream he’d had as a boy. Like vanilla and warm skin and fireside, summer nights. It was an outlandish notion, but he couldn’t shake it. 

All her life, Sarah had read stories about star-crossed, fated lovers thrown together by chance and circumstance and serendipity. But those were all just stories. Even when her grandpa talked about meeting her grandma - like they were always meant to be together, and just had to find each other to make it happen - it seemed like folklore. A tall tale he spun to make their love story seem more epic. 

After writing all this out, I realized perhaps you meant favorite writing from other authors. Let me know if that's something you'd like me to answer.

[steelycunt]

dragging myself through the waves ill be so honest with you

[comicaurora]

I've started making my way through the playlist hbomberguy made of actually good video essays by queer creators and spotted a comment of yours on the one about the relationship between Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, which was fun xD red in the wild!

Anyways, just wanted to appreciate how both you and Blue and you are very good at showing your sources! It's always nice to know that the people you've watched for years have good habits after an event like this, and I hope you guys are among the people that get some new fans after this whole debacle, because your channel definitely qualifies for "good educational videos made by queer people"

I'm glad! Blue's much better about listing his sources and follow-up reading than I am.

To be honest, I loved the video, but my imposter syndrome always flares like crazy when I watch an essay like that. It might be the ADHD or it might just be who I am as a person, but I feel like I've lived my whole life striving to make everything I do the best it can be, and still managing to fuck up and get criticised for things I could've done better if only I never missed anything. It's an actual gut-drop when it turns out a source I used wasn't trustworthy, or when in older videos I only went wiki-deep for some claims and didn't check every source to be 100% sure I wasn't being goat-fish'd. And this being the internet, I can get criticized at any time for things I've gotten wrong years ago, since it's evergreen online and to the new-viewing critic it's as fresh as yesterday. It makes it hard for me to stay proud of my work past the first moment of "oh I would've done that different now". There's a cocktail of complicated, scary feelings around this space, no matter how little I actually have in common with the bad guys of this scenario - it's less about the reality and more about who my imposter syndrome tells me I am. I saw several people saying that the video actually made them feel much better about their own work because it made it clear that accidental plagiarism on that scale is impossible, but if my anxieties listened to reason I would've successfully machete'd them out of my skull years ago. I just hope I never fuck up badly enough to deserve an hbombing of my own.

But my own stress aside, the hbomb essay exposed a level of laxness, laziness and entitlement on the part of these plagiarists that I think is almost incomprehensible to people who actually create for a living or even just the joy of it. How hollow do you have to be to take in someone else's writing and not consider it, digest it, let it reshape your views and then formulate your own interpretation on it, but instead to file off the serial numbers and pretend it's yours, trusting that the person whose thoughts and words you valued enough to steal will never be powerful enough to call you out on it? I go down research rabbit holes because I love the frustration and thrill of putting something together! How joyless it must be to skim the surface and borrow someone else's conclusions!

I've sometimes had people email asking for sources on parts of my interpretation of various myths, possibly in the interest of source-citing for school papers (a nightmare concept in and of itself) and with very few exceptions I usually have to tell them "the only sources were the english translations I used of the primary source where the myth was originally written, like I said in the video, and the part where I said I was conspiracy-boarding has no source other than my own analysis of the given source, which is why I called it conspiracy-boarding" and I was always a little baffled by those emails - half the videos are introduced like "this is The Prose Edda" or "this is in Ovid's Metamorphoses" or "this bit is Hesiod" so what else could they want - but seeing the hbomb of the week made me realize that truly original analysis might not be what most people are expecting from a "thing summarized." They might be expecting a compilation of other people's summaries instead.

[violetasteracademic]

What do you think about the passive language used in azriel’s bonus chapter? Azriel says he found himself entering the foyer right before elain comes and then he finds himself in the library at 7.

Oooooh my darling anon. You have me giddy and kicking my feet with excitement to talk about this! Once again, a simple anon ask has spiraled into a deep crack theory post. This is a long one!

I love this bonus chapter so much. The prose are some of her loveliest work and the treasure trove of details is simply masterful. And I'm so excited about where I think the story is headed.

I definitely understand what you mean regarding passive language: there's a sense of everything happening without intention. In fact- he is explicitly acting against his "every intention." but the devil is in the details. As you said, the bell chime for the seven pm service. The exact same bell chime from when Nesta attended a service and was lulled into non-con scrying session with ancient songs. Ones Clotho just happened upon below level seven of the library one day in a random stack of books. Azriel giving away Elain's necklace to G/wyn or any other priestess who would like it after meaning to return it to the store. There's so much to get into but for the sake of keeping this post a reasonable length (which I still failed at anyway), I am going to hone in on what is, in my opinion, the most important line in the entire G/wyn section of the bonus chapter:

For whatever reason.

One of the most difficult parts about writing is that it is so easy to get hung up on a catch phrase or a certain way of describing things. Whether it is through our subconscious minds, or more intentional developmental edits, there are phrases that invoke something very specific and it is hard not to re-use them. I struggle with this. SJM has definitely come under fire for this as well.

For whatever reason has been used 13 times in the entirety of ACOTAR including the bonus chapter (it takes .5 seconds to type it into the search bar on Kindle and it displays the number count up top, this is not as unhinged as it sounds 🫣) and two of those times were regarding G/wyn, three were regarding the Priestesses, and every single time it was used to express that there is hidden information at play- be in magic, motivations, or machinations- something out of character, or something we do not yet understand. It essentially means that there is a reason, but it is not being revealed.

All of Azriel's passive actions and the little parallels between Azriel's experience with G/wyn and Nesta's experiences in the book (hearing G/wyn's song calling to her, her power rumbling in response to G/wyn, the glow, so on and so forth) are also connected through this line:

Azriel:

Nesta:

If we trust that for whatever reason does in fact indicate that there is a reason, there is an oft overlooked detail that also connects Nesta and Azriel's experience on page: G/wyn's breath.

In Nesta's for whatever reason moment, G/wyn is guiding her through the Valkyrie breathing technique. Nesta continues to focus on G/wyn's breath, which leads her to feeling this rush of thinking about how amazing G/wyn is, how she is good at everything, and somehow nothing about it irks the easily irked Nesta. G/wyn's breath settles her and leaves her content to be there:

Contented. Calm. Distant. Stilled. Resting. These are all of the sensations listening to G/wyn's breath creates. Now let's look at Azriel:

Azriel's shadows hear the silent music in G/wyn's breath. Suddenly, Azriel and his shadows are calm. Content. Stilled. Resting.

Even more interesting? Both of these moments occur after deeply painful moments with Elain. For Nesta, this takes place after Elain calls her out for focusing on what Elain's trauma did to her. Azriel is obviously wrecked from being ordered away from Elain. Then they both find themselves with G/wyn, there is a pointed experience of them interacting with her breath, and they are suddenly distantly removed from the situation that was ailing them mentally. Settled, calmed and feeling abnormally giddy over thoughts of G/wyn and how amazing she is and how happy they are to make her happy- for whatever reason.

Now, if you are still with me, we are REALLY going to get into some crack theory.

I do not believe that it is a coincidence that in a book where Nesta and Cassian were the two POV's, only Nesta and Azriel experienced G/wyn's lulling effects. We are dipping into major HoFaS spoilers here, so stop now if you don't want to move ahead!

In HoFaS, we learned the Cauldron has been corrupted by the Asteri. They pooled their power into it so that it would work their will. I think there is likely a push and pull for power within the Cauldron itself between the dark corruption of the Asteri and the original power of fate and creation by the Mother. Both entities exist within the Cauldron, if you will. We also learn that Truth-Teller was made in the Cauldron as a weapon against the Asteri. But we also learn that Azriel himself was a weapon crafted by the Asteri:

I believe this is in reference to Shadowsingers, but either way, there is a suggestion that whoever- what ever- Azriel is, it was crafted by the Asteri.

I also believe that whatever Nesta stole from the Cauldron was not the power that the Mother had gifted to Elain when it recognized her, perhaps the Archeron bloodline (let's not forget the Bone Carver's words about salvation laying dormant in a human bloodline), but the dark corruption of the Asteri.

No longer just a tool of creation, but a deadly tool of destruction. Nesta's power of death. And Silene's parents turned the horrors it produced to their advantage. I assume this is in reference to Truth-Teller, the knife that can unmake things which was created the Starborn bloodline to defeat the Asteri:

A tool not of creation, but of destruction. Unmaking.

I absolutely love Azriel and Nesta's friendship, but I also think there is something deeper going on here. I think Nesta and Azriel both experience the weight of the darkness of the Asteri's powers. Yes, they both have trauma. But they also are deeply unsettled people who fight incredibly hard against the darkness that weighs on them.

I believe both Nesta and Azriel carry the literal corruption of the Asteri, and it is something only they, and not the rest of their family, has to fight. They are doing it. And they also lean on each other in a very deep and beautiful way.

UGH. I love them, Your Honor.

I also believe that Nesta gave back her corrupted powers at the end of ACOSF (hopefully). And the mother interrupted her giving back all of her power, leaving only what the Mother intended remaining. Nesta seems much calmer and more settled in HoFaS, and while we can attribute it to her emotional growth, I think again it is extremely important that Nesta and Azriel, the only two characters to have been affected by G/wyn's luring, were also the main characters in the crossover where the corruption of the Cauldron is revealed.

Okay- but what does this have to do with G/wyn? I know, I know, G/wyn's lightsinger theory is the most accepted theory. And it might be true. But I also don't think it is everything. There is more going on here, and something that specifically leaves Nesta and Azriel susceptible. Nesta was also welcomed to the library to work with the priestesses in ACOSF for whatever reason.

I have made a few posts now about the Priestesses as the likely next mini villains in the upcoming ACOTAR book in alliance with Vallahan. You can read those here and here if you are interested. But I believe the invoking stones of the priestesses might come into play. In this case, what is occurring isn't specific to G/wyn, and I don't believe that she is the only one that could have this affect on Azriel and Nesta. Or maybe it's both, her lightsinger abilities allow her to lure while the invoking stones allow her to lull. Either way, there is a wider picture of the Priestesses and the secret powers they hold involved.

G/wyn believes that the stones are filled with the power of the Mother, and can only be used to protect and not harm. However, Ianthe also used her invoking stone (that was my interpretation, anyways) to lull guards to sleep. Feyre also questions if the invoking stones contain power far deadlier. Lucien confirms that the power the priestesses hold can be utterly lethal if they choose it.

If the invoking stones are also Cauldron Made, then they too carry both life and death. Creation and destruction. Protection and harm. I truly believe that G/wyn is completely ignorant to her own power, what the stones are capable of, and what the intentions of some of the corrupt Priestesses are. To destroy the rule of the High Lord's and regain their power:

The feminist in me is like yes queens, get off your knees and take your power back. But in this context, I think we can safely assume this is not a good thing, as we know many of the High Priestesses are also corrupted and do not have good intentions.

I think there is a lot of evidence that the like calls to like occurring very specifically between Azriel, Nesta, and G/wyn, might have less to do with the (very fair and again possibly correct) theory that G/wyn is a light singer and much more to do with the warped power of the Asteri. I think it is most likely Gwyn is not a villain, nor has any impure intention in her heart. But she does believe in her religion, in the Priestesses, and that they solely enact the power of the Mother for good. That leaves her in a position to be easily manipulated by the "promise" of greater good. The sole fact that she doesn't even think the invoking stone or power of the priestesses is capable of harming when we know otherwise says a lot about her indoctrination.

I also don't even know if G/wyn will specifically play a role in what I assume will be the future luring and lulling of Azriel, or if she was just a deeper representation of the power the priestesses hold. Either is definitely possible.

So yes, Azriel was acting out of character, a bit dazed and passive and almost in a trance. Just as he and Nesta had both experienced around G/wyn before.

For whatever reason.

[its-your-mind]

This is a call to action for all the PJO girlies (gender neutral) that I know are sleeper agents on this webbed site

Go read Trials of Apollo. Go do it. Do it right now.

I know what you’re thinking. “Tbh I didn’t love Rick’s writing towards the end of Heroes of Olympus” “There’s no Percy so why bother” “All of the Argo II crew are kinda OOC” and listen my friends. You are so valid to have those opinions. I felt the same way after Blood of Olympus. But listen to me. Look at me.

Now that you have had some time away, you must give these books another try. For me. For Uncle Rick. For the demon baby grain spirit who is only able to say his own name (Peaches).

Do not worry friends, I do not expect you to read just based on my say-so - I also provide:

A list of reasons why you (yes you) should go read the Trials of Apollo series right now gogogo:

(Spoiler warning - all broad plot things that you learn early on, but I know some people (including me) avoid that shit at all costs)

All the chapters are titled in bad haiku. Ya know that one scene in Titan’s Curse where Apollo just starts reciting apropos of nothing? That’s every chapter title. They’re all so bad it’s amazing.

Apollo is so up his own ass about everything, and it’s so cool to experience the same world through the eyes of someone who is not used to being in amongst the chaos

Oh yeah the plot. That’s a reason to read it.

Okay so

Basically Zeus continues his streak of being a shitty shit parent and decides to blame like… every bad thing that has happened on Apollo, and punish him by turning him mortal and enslaving him to a demigod girl named Meg who is a garbage gremlin with a little demon baby guard named Peaches (see above)

And like the A plot is they gotta save the oracles from shitty old Romans who wanna take over the world (stop me if you’ve heard this one before)

But like the B plot is about what it means to discover that you’ve fucked up, you’ve made mistakes, you’ve hurt people, and you gotta fucking own up to that shit

But also

You do not deserve to be punished for every horrible thing that has ever happened because of you, or even around you, and when a parental or authority figure in your life tells you that, they are an abuser and they are wrong

And yet

It can be so hard to fully separate yourself from them. Because for so long, they were all you had.

But that’s okay, because when you start to learn that the people who were supposed to care for you and love you were not actually doing that, there are people around you who will love you, who will support you, who will pick you up and hold you close and make sure you know that you are okay

And they can’t fix you

But they can give you the safe space to fix yourself

hmm that was an essay about themes and metaphors BUT THATS WHY YOU SHOULD READ IT

also there’s a wikipedia arrow who only speaks in Elizabethan prose (in all caps)

OH ALSO ALSO you get to see Will and Nico being a CUTE AS FUCK couple in the first book. Nico smiles. Also makes skeletons grow out of the ground when people annoy him. Fuck I love this little gay death boy so much.

AND. You get to see so MANY of your old friends. And they still! Get! Plot! And! Character! Development!! Even though they are only there for a little bit

OH OH OH there are two old lesbians who run a halfway house for people who are tangled up in magic shit with nowhere else to go

Did I mention Peaches? I did. He’s my favorite.

OH ALSO. This is “unreliable narrator” executed SO FUCKING WELL. Like, all narrators are unreliable. But Apollo used to be a FUCKING GOD. He has not had to deal with the reality of death all that much. He’s used to people praising his name and bowing down at his feet. But that ain’t happening!! And he is Unhappy about that!! But it also lets there be such a clear juxtaposition between what Apollo believes about himself and about the world and what is really true, which is such a wonderful way to write about recovery from trauma.

Ahem

Anyway it’s just real good Uncle Rick continues to knock it out of the park but he just did something different and we (at least I) needed some space from OG PJO fan brain before I could appreciate how fucking awesome this series is.

OH OH OH and if you like audiobooks Robbie Daymond (hello CR mutuals - yes, this is the one who is our beloved Blue Boi who we (Orym) so desperately need returned) is the audiobook narrator and he is. So fucking good. Absolutely NAILS the dramatic-ass-inner-monologue of this dramatic ass ex-deity. Also nails all the other voices as well. 15/10 audiobook narration I’m lichrally gonna go listen to other books JUST cuz he reads them.

okay why the fuck are you still here. GO. GET THESE BOOKS. If your public library does Libby you can absolutely get them on there. GO FORTH.

[shoyoist]

ﾟ+* ꔫ — 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐒 + 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 !!

content: gn!reader. sfw — fluff. slightly suggestive in shidou's part. featuring: bachira meguru, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, michael kaiser. some of these hcs were suggested to me by other tumblr users! they are credited separately under each part<3

— . ｡˚ ♡ he thinks of these special moments whenever he's feeling down, and it helps him get right back up.

° 𐐒𐐚 . bachira meguru + painting date!

credit to @katasstrophy for the idea! the bachira family has a little art studio built in their house, owned by bachira's mom. he takes you there one time, and though you'd been doing your best to keep things clean for his mother's sake, the two of you end up making a huge mess.

you're intently dabbing brown and yellow paint on your little canvas, looking back at the mental image you've conjured of your boyfriend sitting in a field of flowers and smiling at you, when you hear shuffling behind you.

"baby, baby," is all bachira says in warning. "look this way!" and you turn around, wide-eyed and inquiring as you finally look away from the canvas on which you've been meticulously painting a picture of your rogueishly adorable boyfriend—

only to be met with a splat of bright pink paint across your face. "m—meguru? what the hell?" it's on your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth that had been open in question to bachira's urgent request for you to turn around, and it's nearly in your eye. "god i could've eaten that shit!"

the sound of bachira's unapologetic giggling fills the quiet studio as you get up and pluck a wad of tissues from the box on the table nearby, wiping your face off with it. while your back is turned, he flicks his paint-sopped brush at you again, and you feel the paint hit the back of your neck. "don't do that!"

you stand up straight and turn your back to your easel, squaring your shoulders and doing your best to protect the painting.

"it's—" bachira's laughing so hard now, he snorts in between his words. "it's even worse now, baby — it's all over your face!" and you know that. because you can feel the paint smear down to your chin as you wipe. oh, you think, he's so fucking cute right now, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkly as he giggles.

but that's not going to stop you from retaliating. meguru, you're about to get it.

his mother chewed him out and made him clean the place up afterwards, but bachira would do it again and again and again, just to see your pretty smile and hear your pretty laugh, your eyes lit up as you tried to stay angry with him while the two of you made a mess of yourselves and the studio once more.

° 𐐒𐐚 . hyoma chigiri + poetry analysis date!

credit to @yakshasslut for the idea! chigiri gives you a book of his favourite love poems to read while he's away, and by the time he comes back home, you're brimming with tender feelings for him and he flusters so sweetly when you express it. ever since, it's been a tradition to share and mull over novels and poems together.

not many of chigiri's friends or teammates are well-versed in poetry or literature in general, but there is one novel of prose that each and every one of them can name and recognize within an instant — and it's a book that you gave your boyfriend as a gift, years ago.

it doesn't have much of you in it — it's a collection of poems that express the joys and pains of long distance love, and the only hint of you in it is the lipstick kiss on the front page, with a "for hyoma, my one and only<3" written on it in your handwriting.

he takes it everywhere. flicks through the pages while he's on the plane, while he's resting in his hotel room, and sometimes even takes it with him to games.

he takes so much care to keep it safe and in good condition, but it's quite worn now— he can't bring himself to shelf it, though. it's his most prized posession, almost.

he reads it and keeps in mind that while he's away, you're reading the new book that he had gifted you before he left, and he smiles to himself, imagining how you underline and draw hearts around your favourite lines and write little pencil notes about how "this is you @ me!"

don't get it wrong, chigiri loves being on the field. he loves the glamour, the adrenaline, the fire of scoring a goal — but at his heart, he's soft. domestic.

he hopes fondly for the day he'll get to lay in bed with you again (he's only going to be away for two weeks. but it feels like two months, or even years, sometimes) and have a cozy little date where you just sip on warm coffee and share sweet cakes while mulling over poems together.

it's comforting. it's home.

he thinks about the worn book of poems that sits on your shelf, back at your place. the one he gave you.

the one you read all the time, leaving new annotations bookmarked for him to find each time he picks the book up for a read.

if he ever actually tired of football, chigiri thinks he might just become a poet. for you.

° 𐐒𐐚 . mikage reo + picnic date at the beach!

credit to anonymous! reo is a rich man, and he's so used to fancy dinner dates, luxury trips, first class service, all that. so when you take him on a cute little beach date, getting him to help you cut sandwiches and bake brownies and cookies earlier in the day, it was a new experience for him. and he loves it.

“reo, what about here?” you ask, turning around to look at him as you hop in your cute little sandals on the sand. he's carrying the picnic basket and you have the blanket folded under your arms — and he's been following you across the pretty beach for about fifteen minutes now.

though you ask him if he likes the spot, he knows from the look in your eyes that you actually like this place, and it's nice! the sand is soft and there's not a lot of rocks or seaweed under foot, the shore is a short walk away, and the sunset spills so pretty onto your skin and into your eyes.

he's almost lost in the sight — but when you call his name again, sounding a little concerned as you ask, “reo? you okay?” he snaps out of it and gives you one of his signature, wide and adorable grins. “yeah! here is fine, baby.”

he doesn't know but even his eyes are lit up, the violet of them beautiful and tinted gold in the light of the setting sun, and you can't help but cup his face and kiss him as he puts the basket down and sits on the blanket beside you.

“isn't this fun?” you giggle against his lips, and he hums in agreement, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you in for another kiss. the evening has just started, but he already knows that he'll remember this moment fondly, forever. “mhm, it is fun.”

“you sure?” you ask, tracing his cheek with your thumb, and it's almost a softer, warmer feeling than that of the sun kissing his face. “it's not your usual scene, i know. we can always go to a—”

”no,” reo cuts you off, taking your hand. the smile he gives you is prettier, brighter than any he's ever given you before. it takes your breath away. “it's not my usual scene, yeah.” he chuckles. “in fact, i've never had a picnic on the beach in my life until now. but it's... nice. i love it.”

he says it so softly, and it's rare, coming from your bubbly, bright and ever-so-forward lover. and that's how you know he's telling you the truth.

“alright then.” you kiss his cheek, pulling away and sitting back, dragging the basket closer so you can take the food out. it's just a little kiss, the same as any other kiss you've given his cheek — but somehow, it holds a different sort of warmth, and it comforts him. makes him feel so softly, gently beloved.

and he swears he'll hold this warmth to his cheek, to his chest, to his heart — forever.

° 𐐒𐐚 . michael kaiser + homemade spa date!

credit to anonymous! off days with kaiser are the nicest spent indoors. you go on outdoor dates (and on dates overseas) so often, that it's a nice change to stay at home once in a while and spend some sweet, domestic time with him instead.

“mikka,” your tone is scolding as you cradle his face in your palms, stopping him from wiggling around as you try to stay balanced in his lap. “can you stop moving? the serum is getting in your hair!”

kaiser laughs, the lift of his lips making him look all the more prettier, and hence all the more fucking distracting, as you try to wipe the residual bits of the face mask you'd just peeled off your boyfriend's face, replacing the thick, opaque cleanser with softly translucent moisturizer.

he taps your palmful of moisturizer with an index finger, and with a quick move of the digit he swipes the blob on your nose, making you flinch back and blink in surprise.

“mikka!”

ah, there it is. mission successful. kaiser almost wishes he could go to sleep forever and in his dreams, listen to you calling him by that sweet little petname for the rest of his life. almost.

because he wishes more than that to kiss you all the time. like right now. he leans forward, the smile stretching his mouth giving away his intention to you, but not in time for you to escape. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, kissing you with soft, sweet and swollen lips that you'd just finished exfoliating with sugar and honey.

“baby,” your eyebrows furrow, but you still kiss him back and it makes him chuckle because oh, for all the fuss you make and all the scowling you do, you love him so. “we'll never get to the manipedi by movie time at this rate.”

“movie time can wait, princess,” he sighs against your lips. “all i want right now is to watch you, anyway.”

and his words are romantic, suggestive, and they'd bring a blush to your cheeks for sure — if he hadn't accidentally tipped you off balance in that second.

“mikka!—” you yelp (to his delight) as he grabs you and tries to steady you — but even as he saves you, your hand reflexively flails upwards to curl around his arm for support.

and with a smack, the moisturizer is all over his bicep instead of lathered evenly across his face as it should be.

the upset on your face is apparent, but kaiser only grins expectantly as he grips your waist, adjusts your position in his lap again, waiting.

and you don't disappoint. “look what you've done! mikka!”

[moonlight-prose]

✧ SAFE HAVEN ✧

a/n: as of right now i am behind on kinktober, but that's okay. i'll catch up. this fic was originally based on another wip i have of shower sex with joel, but that one is a more in depth angsty one. so i decided to just write a new one. there can never be too many shower sex with joel fics right?

day eleven - shower sex | kinktober 2023

summary: "being with Joel felt like breathing. as if you’d stepped outside for the first time in eons, soaking in the fresh air that emanated from the trees. it was clear. a constant fixated piece of nature that you knew would never fade."

word count: 1.8k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, shower sex, soft joel, what it means to love someone you want to grow old with, gratuitous prose about romance, p in v sex, fingering, dirty talk, tenderness.

Jackson had been good to you. More than most places in this world; some attempting to carve a piece of you to leave behind. Little bits of your soul now scattered amongst the decay of what used to be. What you could no longer recognize in the broken streets and fallen buildings.

But Jackson was different.

You wanted to say it was because of Tommy and Maria’s warm welcome. The people’s willingness to live in peace once more after so much horror, so much grief. And while those facts still rang true, you knew the reason why you chose to settle. Why you moved into a house that was a little rickety, old in all its beauty, and remained with the one person who understood you. Who you could count on to keep you safe, keep the life you’d built steady.

The warm water of the shower had become a luxury you took advantage of as often as humanly possible. When traveling for months at a time without even a moment to get clean, this was truly something special. The small amount of shampoo you had washed down the drain, your forehead leaning against the cold tile as the hot spray of water hit your back. It loosened up the overly tight muscles—your body having been through the wear and tear of surviving.

You didn’t hear the door open, or even notice the soft thud of his boots as he left them by the door, his hands reaching for his clothes. It wasn’t until he was pulling back the shower curtain did your eyes fly open. The instinct to cover up overtaking you, until your eyes met the warmth of his brown ones. The exhaustion, clear on his face.

“Wonderin’ where you were,” he said, stepping in next to you, reaching for the homemade soap you’d picked up in town.

“Long day?”

He sighed and that was all you needed to understand how the day went. So you turned fully, took the soap from his hands, and got to work lathering it along his skin. The days may be filled with peace, but everyone still remained on edge. Still wary that their safe haven would one day be destroyed.

Joel more than anyone understood what this place meant to people. How hard they fought to keep it going, to keep themselves protected. Which meant he was out longer than necessary, working with Tommy to make sure that Jackson ran as smoothly as possible. Some nights he’d crawl into your bed, half awake and fighting sleep. Other nights you found yourself alone, only to wake up with the remaining warmth on the sheets where he’d been.

“Lean down,” you instructed, smoothing the shampoo between your fingers and dragging it through his untamed curls. The gray was more prominent than before, nearly covering most of his hair, but you found it sexier than before.

It was a sign that he was willing to keep his word when you first fell for one another. He was determined to grow old with you. To wither away in this house and make it a home. You wondered if that’s why he was so adamant on protecting this town. Risking his life any chance he could to make sure nothing happened. He wanted the certainty, the knowledge that there was somewhere to grow old.

“You take care of me,” he murmured, letting the suds run down into the drain, his hands draped over your hips.

You grinned. “Someone has to.”

There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. An invisible rope that tied you to him to sight you swore it would never snap. Which is why he simply smiled. The skin around his eyes crinkled slightly as he caught your lips in a tender kiss. Tugging you closer until your bare chest pressed to his. And for a moment you swore you could feel the rope tighten—writing the narrative of your future together. Permanently carving it out in time.

“Turn around,” he said against your cheek, hands guiding you until your back was pressed to his chest—hands now placed against the shower wall. “Gonna take care of you now darlin’.”

“You don’t have—”

The smack that echoed in the room had the slight sting of pain blooming on your ass. It silenced you immediately, your lips parting and eyes fluttering shut. Slick pooled in the soft curls around your pussy, that glutinous warmth you longed to sink into now gathering at the base of your stomach.

“I know I don’t have to.” His hands spread apart your ass, staring at the tight ring of muscles that peeked out at him like a fucking prize. Pressing his thumb against it, he grinned at the way your body jerked, head falling forward—a guttural moan bouncing off the walls. “This ain’t about have to. I want to.”

Being with Joel felt like breathing. As if you’d stepped outside for the first time in eons, soaking in the fresh air that emanated from the trees. It was clear. A constant fixated piece of nature that you knew would never fade. He was the earth beneath your feet, the cloud in your blue sky, the sole reason you were here now giving into his touch. 

A soft kiss was pressed to your shoulder, a tender show of love in contrast to the filthy way he spread you with his fingers. Finding your clit with ease. You sagged against the wall, a moan crackling through the air, and that urged him to keep going. To press two fingers into your soaking cunt, curling them until you bowed forward, a distorted version of his name leaving your mouth.

“Right there darlin’?”

You both knew he didn’t have to ask. He knew that he was pressing right where you needed him—your walls tightening around his fingers. Joel was simply enjoying this allotted time. He was going to take you apart bit by bit until you had no sense left in your bones, and you were going to take it.

Nodding frantically, you felt him drag his fingers out, plunging them back in with a speed that nearly gave you whiplash. You were sensitive after weeks of nothing. But Joel could see the need on your face. He noticed how your body was pulled tight, stiff with the day's heaviness weighing on your shoulders. You took on too much; believed that you could handle whatever the world threw at you. Which you did.

Yet you never allowed a moment to be taken care of—never gave into something you didn’t deserve. Joel supposed that’s where you shared similarities. You reflected one another, each stubborn in your own impossible way. Both too afraid to admit that sometimes…you needed someone to lean on.

“Cum on my fingers and I’ll fuck you,” he grunted against your ear, speeding up until a high pitched whine tore from your throat. “Wanna taste it honey. Miss your sweet fuckin’ taste.”

“A-Ah f-fuc—” His thumb collided with your clit, circling it quickly until you had no choice but to follow his words. Your body went rigid, mouth falling open in a stuttered cry as you broke, spilling on his fingers—your heart cracking wide just a bit more.

True to his word he dragged his fingers out and placed them at his lips, sucking your release clean off his skin until nothing remained. You were an aphrodisiac to his senses. The nectar of the gods come down to gift him with your delicious sweetness. Yet no matter how much Joel indulged…it was never enough. A hunger had started in his body, turning his once hollow heart into something ravenous. Craving one thing day after day. You.

“Joel,” you whimpered, pressing back against his throbbing cock. “Please.”

He sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of the beg falling from your lips. An echo that he wanted to sear into his mind.

“I got you darlin’.” Pumping his cock, he notched the head against your entrance, feeling your walls flutter around nothing—begging him to move just a bit further. To fill any emptiness that still lingered in your chest.

And who was he to deny you? Who was he to resist your siren-like call?

Gritting his teeth, he sunk into you with one smooth thrust, choking on his spit when you clamped down around him. Nearly shoving him off the edge before he could start. His hands found purchase on your hips, fingers digging painfully into your already tender skin, before he set a pace so brutal it nearly made your legs collapse. A low rumbling sound tore from his chest, reverberating against your back when he began to fuck you with enough strength to shove cries out of you with every thrust.

“Not gonna last honey,” he grunted, dragging you back onto his cock with every shove of his hips into your body. “Perfect fuckin’ pussy. Made for me.”

Your eyes rolled back when his cock nudged against your cervix, the sensation obliterating in all its bliss. Fingers slid against the wet walls of the shower, legs trembling as he held you up with one arm, dragging your body even closer. Until his hand was pressed against your throat, lips by your ear.

With every thrust you could hear the harsh breaths he let out. The deep growls and moans that were like another flame licking its way up your body. Digging your nails into his hips you felt yourself reach another peak, higher than the last. You wouldn’t last another five seconds and he knew it. Could tell by the way you slowly tightened around him with every stunted thrust.

“Touch yourself for me.” His fingers pressed against your throat, your hand dropping to rub quick circles over your clit. “Feel how wet you are honey.”

“Oh g-god,” you choked, back arching into his hold.

“Gonna have to clean you up after I’m done.” A garbled sound reached his ears, making him smile. “You want that? Want me to lick myself out of ya?”

Your eyes rolled back, body going taut as you exploded, a shout bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears. Joel grunted, grinding his hips into your ass and wrapping himself around you. He spilled into your wet heat, filling you with a warmth that wracked your body with a shudder. A soft moan breaking through the daze you were in. The steam of the shower clung to your bodies, pressing the heat against your chests until it was almost too hard to breathe.

But he refused to move.

He cradled you close, head dropping to your shoulder as his cock softened in you—cum trickling down your inner thigh slowly. He kept you close because Joel had never felt more safe than he did now. You were the person he longed to see at the end of every day. The one who kissed all his wounds, healed his heart with your soft touches and joy filled laughs. You were his forever. 

His very own safe haven.

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 30

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 30 next>>

A/N: Contains prose with panels in between. 6th panel is a video.

“I can do it, you know,” you insisted again

“Not having it. I should make sure you’re getting the best care.”

You arched a brow at him, sitting stiffly beside him, not really seeing how it was easier when he said, “Prop your legs up on my lap.”

“Huh?”

He didn’t explain any further and instead stood up, carrying you bridal style and propping you on the couch so your back was against the armrest while he gently placed your legs across his lap. “That wasn’t so hard, was it.”

“N-no, but –”

“No buts.”

As he moved around you, you couldn't help but stare at him. His usually intimidating demeanor softened as he meticulously put the ointment on the abrasions on your leg with a cotton swab. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers deft and precise, eyes intense as he focused on his task. The room was silent except for your steady breathing. At that moment, Sukuna's care and attention just took center stage.

“You do this often?” you teased. “With other girls, I mean.”

He shook his head. “Consider yourself special.”

“I’m only special ‘cause you nearly killed me.” You laughed at your own joke, not meaning anything by it, about to swing your legs off of him when he held onto them, his hand quickly but very gently settling on the shin of your right leg. “I…I’m sorry. That wasn’t a nice thing to say.”

Sukuna leaned towards you, placing his free hand on the backrest. You met his gaze, not liking the turmoil that seemed to swirl in his dark eyes which, you noticed, were flecked with dark garnets and amethysts with the way the sun was shining on him.

“I’ll never hurt you,” he told you softly. He closed his eyes in agitation before flashing you an apologetic smile. “Not intentionally, anyway.”

“Stop saying it that way.”

“Hmm. What way?”

“Like you’re considering the possibility that you would.” You mustered all the courage you had, reached out and cupped his face, making him look at you. “You’ve taken care of me better than anyone so far. I am grateful for that. Don’t ever forget it.”

He placed his hands over yours. “How are you this gracious? It’s unsettling.”

At that, you felt your heart stutter. It’s happening again. “Is that bad?”

Sukuna laughed. “How is that even bad? I swear to god, you worry about the weirdest things. It’s good. It’s just that…”

“Just what?” You withdrew your hands, looking away. That overwhelming feeling akin to being submerged in cold water made its way from your toes to your chest, making it hard to breathe. “People hate me, you know? They hate me because they think I’m just pretending. I acted out once because I was too tired to deal with anyone, and they all started leaving, telling me I’m a –”

He didn’t like what he was hearing. “That’s ridiculous.”

You shook your head, trying to compose yourself. “But I admire you, Sukuna. You show everyone the real you, and they like you for it.

Unlike me, you thought, concealing the thought with a smile, but that was short-lived when he said his next words.

“I like you.”

TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @junehasnotbeenfound @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @its-princessmara @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @mythoscalliope @noble-17 @pheonix-eclipses @weebbuscuit @sukunasbudussy @lu-c1na @vinnieswife @the-haitani-baton @iaminyourfloors @needtoloveoutloud @r-ryuko09 @somestardeww @swirlingcurses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @bronze-metal @iluv-ace @kidd3ath

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240526]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[amelee23]

Cleaning supplies... Under the moonlight | Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader (no pronouns used but they are wearing a swim suit)

Characters: best friend!Hyunjin, reader, David (reader’s boyfriend), Jihyo and Luna (reader’s friends) and Sharon (identity is a spoiler). None of the original characters resemble real people.

Genre: Romance, best friends to lovers, ANGST, hurt/comfort, being saved from a messy break-up, slow burn, star-crossed lovers

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: CHEATING (reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend), toxic relationship, messy break-up, crying, reader becomes very insecure, Hyunjin is there to save the day, and he’s pining hard, reader is wearing a swim suit, I have no idea how heated pools work so don’t quote me on anything, Hyunjin is a poet so; I present to you confessing feelings through love poems, Hyunjin is shirtless, swearwords, reader gets called ‘angel’, kissing, cuddles, a bit of revenge, humor, the tense change is intentional (kinda), hopelessly romantic stuff, poetic prose, metaphors galore and lots of word plays (if you catch them all I’ll give you a gold star.)

A/n: I know the first part of the story focused on the reader’s relationship with her toxic boyfriend, but Hyunjin will become the main focus after the break-up so please don’t let the beginning intimidate you. Also I worked on this an entire week lord send help

Synopsis: Your vacation was supposed to go like this: scented candles, a warm pool and the light of the moon, in hopes of fixing your relationship with your boyfriend. But the universe had other plans. After you found out he has been cheating, you bathed under the moonlight, surrounded by broken roses, being confessed in poems by your best friend Hyunjin, and you’ve never felt so whole.

You've put everything into this vacation.

And that didn't only mean money, albeit it was quite costly. You, your boyfriend and some close friends decided to rent out a vacation house with a gigantic heated pool, to at least create a fun, leisure memory before summertime slipped between your fingers and the sun would grow sad and dim once again. With the price shared by so many people, it was still quite a lot - but you didn't care, because there was more emotion put behind this vacation than mere money.

Perhaps it wasn't the healthiest of solutions, just how when a couple decided to get married to fix their relationship (which to you always seemed like such a horrid idea), you were trying something similar. You wanted this vacation with your boyfriend, David. Things between you haven't been good, that would be the simplest way to put it. His behavior changed, he became more distant, less passionate about your relationship, and one thing led to another and you were fighting because of your growing suspicions. Truth be told, you were terrified. Afraid he didn't love you anymore, afraid he found someone else to spend his nights with.

He had been everything to you, the fiber woven from your cells, the beginning and end of every breath you took - because when you loved, you didn't hold back. And it came to you so naturally, too; to love him. You've never had something so simple, so stable until you met him. But they do say every good thing must come to an end, and there's this little cricket in the back of your mind, at low volume but at an unbearable high pitch, following you every moment, whether awake or asleep. It's telling you your gut is right. Vivi (so you've nicknamed him, many months ago, when his friends were making fun of how basic the name David is) has told you a million times you had nothing to worry about. That he's just busy, or stressed, or that your love is just settling into something more calm, rather than an intense teenage-like love, like it used to be in the beginning. He's made you feel insane so many times over. Like you're just imagining things, like your insecurities are getting out of hand and you're just projecting on him, lashing out at him. You thought you deserved the pain that came with the accusations of being untrusting, immature, unconfident, inconsiderate or selfish. But you didn't, of course you didn't. You didn't deserve any of that.

You were afraid Vivi wouldn't agree to the vacation, or even if he did, he wouldn't pull through on the money part and you'd have to pay his share. You were ready to annihilate your savings account just for this one chance at a happy memory. This one chance at making things right. But surprisingly, he agreed in a heartbeat and even suggested a specific vacation house he's heard of from his friends. Not even two days later, he had all the details down, made the math of the expenses and put together the whole group chat. You thought this was it, he was actually trying again. Showing you he still does have the passion to make you happy.

You couldn't have picked out a better date for the vacation, either. The first night, it would be a full moon, with a clear sky. You were imagining it already, how magical it was going to be, soaking in a heated pool under the moonlight with David, reciting your love vows once more, like you used to do in the start of your relationship. You couldn't help how hopelessly romantic you were, you needed to let it out, confess disgustingly sappy and cheesy words of admiration. But more than that, you needed him to tell you he loves you. You needed it.

When you arrived, you were met with a stranger who had been waiting for you and your friends at the vacation house. She introduced herself as Sharon, the daughter of the owner. Since her father was busy, she was left in charge of giving you the orientation.

"I'm not going to bother you much." She assured you, her voice was low in volume and yet high in pitch. "I'm just going to give you a quick tour of the rooms and then explain to you how the pool works, and what cleaning supplies you can use just in case you need them." She was a beautiful girl, so beautiful in fact, that the cricket in the back of your mind was telling you to be envious. You couldn't quite understand it, but you brushed it off.

There were three rooms in the house, each of them with their own bathroom. It was so much more luxurious than you imagined, and suddenly it seemed odd that you paid so little for something so grand. You remembered Vivi saying something about a discount, but the memory was vague. Nevertheless, the room count was perfect. One room would belong to you and Vivi, one to Jihyo and Luna, and one to Hyunjin.

You met Jihyo through Vivi, they were coworkers at some point. But the two of you instantly clicked and became girl friends, and the more, the merrier - Luna was her adopted sister, picked up from an orphanage in Spain. She was one of the most incredible and strongest women you've ever met, and you simply adored her. It was so magical to see how the two sisters came in a package, how they looked after each other with unconditional love. You thought something like that only existed in TV shows.

And lastly, there was Hyunjin. A man, a poet, a romantic with beauty deemed worthy of a Greek tragedy. But most importantly, your best friend; your lifeline. He understood you, in ways no one ever could. Your souls were made from the same material, the same thirst of emotions of celestial scales, he saw beauty in the small things just like you did. And he has been there, day in, day out, through your ugliest moments. When you were single at prom, he turned down at least 15 girls to take you instead. When you were too broke to afford Taylor Swift tickets, he pretended to 'roam the city' with you so that you'd listen to the concert from outside the stadium. When a boy broke your heart, he'd turn your pain into the most beautiful poems, and gift them to you in journals filled with drawings of your favorite flowers. He was more than anyone could ever ask for, and you were forever grateful to have such a human in your life. The perfect best friend.

With the tour out of the way, you volunteered to go with Sharon and receive the tutorial about the pool and supplies you must use for it. She explained to you the heating mechanism (although all you needed to do was turn it on, she reassured you.) and that water might need to be replenished if you use the pool a long time since the heat makes it evaporate faster. You jutted down all you could in your notes app, and then followed her to the supply closet. She explained to you about chlorine (although half of what she said went over your head) and showed you the cleaning supplies you can use in the instance that the water becomes extremely dirty (which she knew wouldn't be the case, but she was required to let you know). By the end of it, you were starting to think your senses maybe are going insane. Sharon seemed like a very nice and gentle person, and her attitude was very bright and easygoing. You told her you were gonna take some pictures of the bottles and note down in your phone what they are, so she gave you a warm smile and left you alone in the supply closet.

After writing your own one-thousand-words heated pool manual (pictures included), you were ready to have the vacation of a lifetime. You picked out a swimsuit in Vivi's favorite color, prepared his favorite scented candles to place around the pool, and alerted your friends beforehand that you wanted the pool just for you and Vivi on the first night. It was all coming together perfectly, so you grabbed the door handle with confidence.

"I'm sure my friends wouldn't mind if I leave a little bit later. We could grab some food and then hit up that bar you like? Don't I owe you a mojito?" That was Vivi's voice. Even with the door cracked just a little, you could hear it. It was so clear. It was his voice.

"I would love to." The cricket. Low in volume, high in pitch. It was speaking - it was agreeing to go out with your boyfriend.

"And maybe, afterwards I could take you home? Would you like that?" Your eyes are closed shut. But you couldn't close your ears, unfortunately. The conversation continued, and you could imagine him whispering in her ear, looking into her eyes and tipping her chin just how he used to do with you. Tears were about to escape, so you closed them even tighter. Your lungs were burning, because you were denying them air. Holding your breath, you bit your lip, hands shaking as they gripped the wall.

"Speaking of taking something home, I have something for you-"

You finally took a breath. And you stormed towards the voices.

Your vision was blurry, but after blinking away your tears, an image formed before your eyes: David, holding out a gigantic rose bouquet towards Sharon.

The ugliest flowers you've ever seen in your life, held by the ugliest man you've ever met. He was never beautiful to begin with, right? He couldn't have. A man with such an ugly soul, how could you have been attracted to him? How could you have loved him?

He calls out your name.

"This isn't what it looks like, okay? My dad is friends with Sharon's dad, okay? We became friends by association, okay?"

Okay?  Is he asking you that, or is he asking himself if the lie is plausible?

"And these are for you, yeah?" He's walking towards you, putting the bouquet in your limp hand. "There's nothing going on between me and Sharon." The cricket, it suddenly stopped. Instead, you heard Sharon gasp and look at David in horror. She must have not known. She was also just a victim.

"Just stop it already! Enough with the lies!" You found yourself yelling, a never seen before anger bubbling underneath your skin. Your fingertips urged you towards violence, and so you slammed the roses into the floor. The petals scattered and the stems broke. Your yell must have startled the others, because soon you heard a lot of footsteps behind you - and then Sharon turned around and walked away, a hurt look in her eyes, head hanging low in shame. She was avoiding the eyes of all your friends, who were now staring at you and David.

"Okay, fine. You've gotten boring and I was no longer happy. I was going to leave you anyway." He was so nonchalant, there was no waver in his voice. That made you feel as if every time he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and his voice wavered, he wasn't honest. Only now, has he finally been honest.

And the most honest, he was when he took off in a run to chase after Sharon. To make sure she's okay. To comfort her and tell her she's the one he loves.

You fell to the floor.

And to your side, rushed no other than Hyunjin. Like always, to make sure you're okay. To comfort you and tell you you are loved.

The sobs broke out of your body and shook you violently. You were a mess of tears in just a few seconds, and you weren't going to hold back. You wailed, grabbed the roses and slammed them into the floor repeatedly.

But it was useless. They couldn't feel pain. They couldn't feel your pain. They couldn't realize what they have done to you.

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your frame and gently lifted you to your feet.

"C'mon, let's get you in bed, yeah?" Your knees were buckling and you had no strength to stand. You were shaking your head no, like a toddler who didn't want to go back home. "We can continue crying in bed, mmm? Don't worry, I'll let you cry. I'll cry with you, angel." Your arms circled his torso, clutching his shirt between your fingers. You called out his name, and he reassured you he knows, he knows it hurts.

He carefully took your hand and dragged you away. He exchanged glances and nodded at your friends, but you didn't notice. You whispered to him, groggy in voice, that you can't go to your own room, because David's things are there. So Hyunjin took you to his room, which was the best choice for many reasons, not only so you can avoid seeing his things, but also so that he could avoid the urge of throwing David's suitcase out the window.

Hyunjin was true to his words. He sat you down in bed, and let you cry. And before he knew it, he was crying with you. He was holding you so tight, and it was so warm, and yet the shards of ice in your heart weren't melting. At first, you were angry - how could a human do something like this? Something so despicable, so vile? How could you not have realized you were in love with a monster? But then, his voice began to ring in your head. You're boring. He was going to leave you anyways. Perhaps it's you who's the problem. Perhaps you really are boring, and old-fashioned, and demanding, and idealistic, and untrusting, and immature, and too much to handle, and perhaps you should just give up because you're just un-

"Hyune, am I unlovable?" Your voice was barely there, but he heard you. He always heard you.

"Nonsense." He looked so hurt to hear you say that. "That's such nonsense." He repeated with a laugh, wiping his tears on his sleeve. "That's the most stupid thing you've ever said in your life. And you've said many stupid things, I would know." You slapped his arm in protest, but he was happy to see you chuckle.

"I mean, even if I'm not completely unlovable, Sharon is still prettier than me..." The flick of Hyunjin's fingers resonated on your forehead. You held your head in pain.

"What the hell, dude!"

"It's revenge! Every single time you say something like that, it hurts me. So I must hurt you back." You sighed. You knew he was joking, but at the same time, there was some truth behind it.

"I'm sorry, Hyune. I should have listened to you. You didn't like him since the very beginning, and you were the only one telling me my gut was right. It must have been so painful to just watch."

"It's painful to watch you now, as well." He confessed, and you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. But he pulled you back in his arms, to pet you hair lovingly. "That bastard, how dare he hurt my angel. I swear I'm gonna turn into Rapunzel's mom and lock you up in a tower so no one can ever hurt you again."

"Hmm, but doesn't pain help us grow or whatever?"

You were pretty sure Hyunjin just rolled his eyes all the way back to China.

"First of all, we all know pain just gives you more trauma. But I mean, your trauma collection is getting quite... exquisite nowadays." You smacked him again, playfully. But this time, you actually laughed. "No but seriously... there is a lesson in there somewhere. And not just to listen to me more often... to learn that you deserve more, angel." He was so close to you while he was speaking, his eyes aimed directly into yours. Your gaze wondered over him, over Hyunjin, your best friend. His chocolate eyes, sweeter than any cake you could ever eat, his vibrant lips, plumper than any wild cherry growing in the trees, his skin - like a canvas painted over the years with the brush of years and aging. His hair was long and dark, rebellious yet elegant, and the light was cascading in the room in lines, through the blinds that were semi-shut over the windows. Suddenly, there was a new sound in your mind. There was no more cricket, there was the sound of the ocean. Waves, crashing upon the shore. You were barely at the seams, the water was gently lapping at your feet; because you knew, you cannot underestimate the ocean. If you go any further, one wave is enough to push you off balance and take you into the water, like an irresistible magnet pulling you towards demise. One step, one wave, is enough. One more inch between your lips and his.

He pushed your shoulder lightly and you fell face first into the pillows.

"And if you say more mean things about yourself, I swear I'm throwing you in the pool." You reached out for the napkins on the nightstand. It was finally time to stop crying and... think about the future?

"The pool... tonight was supposed to be all romantic and perfect, with candles and the full moon on clear skies..."

"I like full moons and clear skies!" Hyunjin announced, and for some reason it made you burst into laugher. "What! It's true! The idiot would have probably not enjoyed it anyways. He has no eye for beauty. He thinks having one green wall in his grey apartment is enough for him to live 'in vibrant color'. Okay Picasso, but like why the fuck must that wall be in the kitchen?!" You look happy when you laugh. He loves seeing you happy. "You dodged a bullet, trust me. First it's the green kitchen wall, next he ignores the perfect date that his perfect girl set up for him-" His perfect girl. You heart was racing. "-and next he-"

"Tries to double tap her with the daughter of a vacation house owner. He couldn't even find the daughter of a rich CEO."

"- I was gonna say next he's the only single grandpa in a retirement home, because he's too sad of an excuse of a man, but that too." Hyunjin always did this for you, as well. He made sure to roast all of your exes until all you could think of them is burnt chicken. Until the memory of them becomes something funny, that could never hurt you again. "Plus, I'm not letting your efforts go to waste - I'm not letting you miss this chance. Let's watch the moon, together."

You nodded. What else could you do?

You decided it would be best to try to take a nap until night hit. So much crying has left you dizzy and with a headache crawling at fast speeds through your forehead and sinuses.

"Do you have any painkillers? Should I try to find a pharmacy around here?" Hyunjin offered, but you reassured him you have some in your suitcase. "Okay, wait here, I'll go get it for you- but uh, which one is yours?"

"The one that has color on it, duh." He disappeared with a giggle, around the corner.

"I will never underestimate you ever again, ma'am." He joked, placing your colorful suitcase next to the bed. He made sure none of your items were left over in the room you used to shared with David, and insisted you stay put while he brings you a glass of water.

Pills in your system, blinds closed, blanket over your shoulders, Hyunjin curled on the other side of the bed, as small as he could make himself be, so that he doesn't make you feel suffocated. But he was holding two of your fingers in his hand, from across the bed. The skin of two fingers was enough pathway for you to feel a million bodies worth of love, though.

When you woke up, he wasn't there. Nor David who was haunting you in your dreams, nor Hyunjin who was whispering poems to you to chase the nightmares away. You thought you'd be alright after crying it out, but it wasn't that easy. You woke up feeling miserable, with a heavy weight on your chest, and yet feeling so empty and hollow.

You checked your phone, and he hasn't called. You didn't know if you should feel sad or relieved about it. At least he won't chase after you again, right? It won't be another hurtful on and off. It's over. He doesn't love you anymore.

"Oh hey, you're awake- Nah ah, no more crying! You've had your fill of tears, now it's time for a fill of pizza! Get your ass to the living room, missy!" You didn't have the time to cry when Hyunjin was chasing you out of the room with a pillow.

It was a little bit awkward at first, because Jihyo and Luna didn't know if they should bring it up or just try to distract you. Eventually you bit the bullet and began to tell them about your relationship yourself. All the behavior changes, the suspicions, the hurtful words (that you now realize were manipulation) and all the lies.

"Not even his guy friends knew." Jihyo told you. She apparently told the whole group chat she was in with David's friends about what he has been doing. "He didn't just lose his girlfriend, I think he lost most of his friends by doing this."

"Thank you, Ji. For having my back." Perhaps your relationships were monster trucks, but your friends were really golden. They really looked after you.

"So!" Hyunjin announced. "Change of plans. She's having a romantic moonlit date with me, instead. So the pool is still off limits." After Luna threw what looked like a piece of olive at Hyunjin's shirt, and he screamed in your ear, eventually the sisters said they were planning on working on their DnD character sheets anyway. They were your favorite nerds.

According to your phone, the moon would begin to rise at around nine in the evening. It was just enough time for the food in your bellies to settle, while you caught up with the new videos of your favorite comedy channel. Laughter filled the room, and Jihyo and Luna made sure to cuddle the heck out of you, to distract you from that emptiness that was threatening to form into a pit in your stomach.

"So, what scented candles do you have? Something sexy and seductive?" Hyunjin asked you, wriggling his eyebrows. It made the other girls giggle.

"Apple." You answered, and the whole room deadpanned.

"In what world is apple sexy?!"

"It's his favorite!" You tried to defend yourself, but Hyunjin just scoffed.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you really needed a new boyfriend." This roast didn't make you grin. It didn't make you laugh. Instead, you looked down at the floor, a sigh shaking your body. As the seconds passed, you began to feel more and more stupid for ending up in this situation. For being so dumb as to let yourself be led on by some pretty words, and pretty eyes, that you could ever be truly loved- "Sorry." Hyunjin apologized in a panic. It just slipped, he had so much resentment bottled up for that man. "It's a good thing I brought some of mine with me. They're not exactly sexy, but they should be more fitting."

"Oh, what scent is it?"

"Ocean." Ocean, the waves that are lapping at your feet. They're calling you over.

Hyunjin was calling you over, to see if you like the smell of the candles. You had gone through too many emotions today: the anger, the sadness, the insecurities, and now this anxiety. Or was it thrill? If you put your ear on Hyunjin's chest, would you be able to hear the waves?

"I'm going to go set these up." He announced, and you nodded.

"I'll get changed." With a skip to his step, Hyunjin walked out and closed the door to give you privacy. You're not even in the water yet, and you already feel like you're drowning.

You fished out your swim suit from your luggage and laid it out on the bed before you. You actually bought this - spent so much money on it - got it in his favorite color - for a man who was cheating on you. You were really regretting not having brought an alternative with you. You couldn't just walk out in underwear and a shirt, right? Better not. You grit your teeth and put it on, but made a mental note to 'accidentally' start a dumpster fire, and 'accidentally' drop the swim suit in it after tonight.

When you were done changing, you found Hyunjin out by the pool. Somehow, he managed to turn it on by himself since you could already see steam coming off of it. He arranged two candles around one corner of the pool (since he only had two) and was probably waiting for you to arrive.

"Oh, angel. That color does not suit you." Hyunjin had always been quite picky when it came to fashion. He had his 'disgusted fashion designer' face on.

"I know, it's-"

"Let me guess, his favorite color? I've seem vomit more vibrant than that." You snorted at the comment. The color was, in fact, quite horrible. "If I wouldn't know how much money you probably spent on that, I'd tell you to set it on fire." You laughed. Great minds think alike.

"I was thinking the same thing." After exchanging grins, Hyunjin seemed to fall into thought. He had that look in his eyes that told you there was a complicated process going on in his mind.

"I'll buy you a new one." Surprised, you cocked an eyebrow at him as you approached the side of the pool he was at. You scooted next to the scented candle he lit, and sat down on the edge. "Careful you don't burn you butt." He joked, and you rolled your eyes at him. The candle wasn't even close to touching you. The water was very warm and calming, you noticed, when you dipped your feet in. It made you want to move even closer to the edge so that your tired ankles would be soothed.

"You don't need to buy me a new one. What would I use it for? I don't think I'll be at any pool again any time soon." A rosy petal tickled your toes and you realized the bouquet had somehow ended up in the water. There were petals and tiny white flowers scattered all around the corner of the pool. It would have been a beautiful sight, if it wasn't so tragic.

"Well, maybe I have been secretly planning a weekend trip to Jeju island for you and I." That surely caught you off guard. You barely had any money left after this vacation, you wouldn't be able to afford a trip to Jeju. He wasn't planning on paying for it all by himself, right?

"I mean, that sounds lovely, Hyune." You replied, even if you had some financial disagreements to talk about later. "But it's september! I don't think I'll be walking around in a swimsuit at the beach in this weather. It's getting chilly." The air was quite cold, you've noticed it ever since the morning. The sun didn't have the same strength as a few days ago - but thankfully the heat coming off of the pool was making it bearable to be out just in a swim suit.

"First of all, summer is a feeling, not a season. And second, I'll just get you one for next summer." Next summer - you almost forgot. To Hyunjin, highschool with you was barely yesterday, and next summer should be in two days. A year was nothing to him when he promised you forever.

"Okay." You replied quietly, swooshing the water around with your feet. You were scared to look him in the eyes, because suddenly you felt so vulnerable. You could trust his idea of forever, right?

"Okay!" He replied with a much brighter note. "With that settled, I'll go get changed for our pool adventure." He walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts, and the subtle smell of the ocean. It was still calling you, but now you could hear it clearer. You could smell it clearer. One more step, one more inch of your skin under the water, and perhaps you could feel it clearer, too.

The wait would have been agonizing if you hadn't made a friend in the moon as soon as you found it in the sky. She - the moon has always been a she to you - was looking absolutely astonishing . For a second, a very silly second, you thought the moon had done a better job at dressing up for a romantic date than you did. You searched around for the evening star as well, the brightest, most beautiful star in the sky. You hoped if the moon was going on a date tonight, it would be with the evening star. For he was a strong man to always keep his light so bright, to always manage to guide the sailors lost in the night-

Hyunjin came back with a few tiny packages in his hand. He was shirtless; and from waist down he wore swim trunks, an ombre from blue, to light blue, to white. With the way the sky was reflected in the pool, you would think he was trying to blend in with the water.

"Choco?" He nudged you, offering you a golden foil. You took one from him happily, and watched him as he took off an elastic band from his wrist to put his hair up in a messy ponytail. The chocolate he offered you was very delicious, and you guessed also probably very fancy. Hyunjin never held back when it came to pleasing the senses. But you wondered, how come he's offering you something sweet? Wasn't the ocean supposed to be salty?

He also ate a chocolate quietly next to you. The silence was getting heavy, which was very odd. Silence was always comforting next to him, but now, the less he spoke the more you felt confused and lost at sea.

"The bouquet ended up in the water." You told him, trying to make any sort of small talk. He hummed, put away the foil of the sweet treat he consumed, and eased himself fully into the pool. As soon as he was in, he let out a soulful sigh. He adored warm water, and you could tell from his body language, from the way his shoulders slumped and his neck craned to stare at the night sky, jaw wide open in admiration - that Hyunjin was in a happy place. Was it just you who was nervous, then?

To your surprise, Hyunjin pushed through the water all the way to the corner where the bouquet was floating about. He picked it up, and began to crush the flowers in his hand so that the petals would fall. He left the stems empty, and then threw them out of the pool. With powerful motions, he made the water roll in waves, so that the petals would scatter throughout the entire pool.

"Now it's just part of the decorum." He said with a giggle. He approached you, and his hand was warm and welcoming when it gently touched your knee. "Forget who they're from." As he beckoned you to join him in the water, you wanted to let those words hypnotize you. Allow the pain to fade to the background.

You join him in the water, and it embraces you like you were meant to be held in someone's arms your entire life. Even though you are surrounded by those petals - those empty promises, those broken parts of your heart - something inside of you is healing. You are no longer putting meaning or significance onto them. They no longer hold you captive. For that tiny moment, everything is as it should be: there is no other place you should have been. No other person you should have been. And no other person - besides your best friend with a dizzying smile - should have accompanied you that night. It was the universe's plan, and no one could be blamed for that.

The universe is vast. As you look up, through the thousands of celestial bodies before you, you can't pin point any to curse in grief and woe. Furthermore, you can't even name this strange feeling of acceptance. It had just appeared in your heart. 

"The sky is so beautiful." You mumble, and Hyunjin almost surprises you when he hums. He looks just as awestruck as you do, and you know for a fact he was the one meant to join you. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, the deep breaths he takes as he says absolutely nothing. He is in a trance, and you are entranced by him.

"The moon and stars are shining for you, my love" You hear him say, but it was quiet, like he wasn't sure of his own words.

"For all that is up there, up above,

In the gentle skies of angels and sinners:

The moon rays and the cheeky glimmers," He takes a pause, as if to rest for a heartbeat and let himself smile.

"They're all but lights to make your eyes shine -

And help you see yourself in mine."

"That's beautiful, Hyune." You complimented. You wondered just how many poems he had stored in his mind and heart. Would you need a library pass to find out? "Who's it from?"

"Oh, he's not a published author." He replied cheekily. "Although he wishes he could be." From the shy yet smug look on his face, it was easy to piece it together.

"Did you write it?"

"Mhm."

"Like, on the spot? Just now?"

"Mhm."

You're absolutely insane!" You tell him with a gentle slap to the arm. He giggles and your heart melts. "I swear there's no human being more talented than you." He looks down at the water and something peculiar sparkles in his eyes. Something naughty, like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and yet he's unaware, he's proud of the mistake he's done.

"Well, it wouldn't be possible without you." You stare at him in confusion. Is he trying to thank you for supporting him and his passion for poetry? For the validation and reassurance you offer him when he works? It goes without question that you would be supporting your best friend- "Do you want me to recite the poem to you again?" You're confused and caught off guard. Frankly you have no idea what is going on, so you just shrug your shoulders awkwardly.

"Sure, I guess."

While Hyunjin has been standing to your side this entire time, leaning back on the edge of the pool, the scented candle between you two, now he moved to stand before you. He was blocking the moon, invading your senses, a dim light hugging his silhouette.

"The moon and stars are shining for you, my love" He's looking in your eyes, and his hands move to grip the edge of the pool on either side of you head. Your lungs are burning.

"For all that is up there, up above" He looks towards the sky for a split second, and then he looks back at you, his eyes clouding with mist.

"In the gentle skies of angels and sinners:" He searches for you hand in the water, and with the most gentle pull, he brings it to his lips to kiss your fingers. A rose petal slips off of you arm and back into the water.

"The moon rays and the cheeky glimmers," He's smiling. He's in his happy place, and yet, you don't know how to accept that the weight of the ocean isn't trying to harm you.

"They're all but lights to make your eyes shine -"  Was he seeing the moon in your eyes?

"And help you see yourself in mine." You were in his eyes. You were. It just took you so many years to see it.

"The moon and stars are shining for me?" You ask; you had to make sure. Your hands were shaking, and a chill ran down your spine.

"My love." He completed the lyric, and you were trying so so hard, to find oxygen in your lungs.

This was exactly were you were afraid of - that one step closer, the ocean waves would take you away, and you'd fall into the dark depths - and ultimately drown. "I'm in love with you." You hear him say. "I know you've been through so many emotions already, and this is just not the right time, because I don't wanna seem like I'm taking advantage of the situation and trying to be some sort of savior to you, but I really am in love with you and I can't stand watching you suffer-"

One of your favorite quotes you've ever read, by a person named Irtiqa Nabi, was 'The sea speaks more honestly to those willing to drown'.

You just had to be willing.

You just had to understand.

You don't need the oxygen.

You take one more, final breath and reach out to kiss Hyunjin before he rambled away all night. His hands fly to embrace you, to cradle your face, to shield you with his body. 

It was the most terrifying leap of faith you've ever made, but you finally realized the ocean wasn't evil. It wasn't trying to take your life away or rob you of your heart. No, the ocean was this being full of life, full of warmth; he wanted you to dive beyond the surface. He wanted you to uncover his mysteries. And he loved you so much. 

"Wait." Hyunjin pulls away, dazed and with unfocused eyes. He bites his lip. "Are you sure about this? Once you allow me to love you, I won't stop. I don't let go." You look up at him and smile. No matter how many times you tell him, it'll never be enough: he's so beautiful. But tonight, something is different. He's exactly how the universe wanted him to be. Exactly where the universe wanted him to be. So naturally, only poetry could describe the beauty of a man who had found his destiny.

"Make me you last love, Hyunjin." You plead, and his eyes fill with both admiration and tears.

"Oh, I will." He cradles you so gently, and yet so tightly. His long fingers are enveloping your face, his body is swallowing yours like the tide, and he kisses you, again and again. And with each one, you gain life, you gather courage, a new constellation is born inside of you. Astrologers could only dream of uncovering all those new-born stars.

He drags you into the middle of the pool, and guides your legs around his waist. He holds you with ease, and from this angle, when you look down at him all you see is joy. But he hides in your neck, and finds another happy place in there.

You rest your head on his shoulder and look up the sky. The moon rose to a higher position, and she looks so calm, so all-knowing as she beams on you. She knew what was going to happen already, and now she was grinning at you slyly.

"Can you see the moon from there?" Hyunjin asks you, and you hum.

"Mhm. But you can't, can you?" It's not like he's trying, his eyes are closed as he cradles you.

"No, just tell her I said hi." You laugh. You wonder just for how long, has the moon known Hyunjin's secret? "I've got my own night sky right here." He says, as he hugs you even tighter, squeezing you to his chest like you're his childhood teddy bear.

"Cheesy." You mutter, but you place a kiss just underneath his ear. That ear begins to burn, and then his whole face is red (that's why he's hiding it away) and Hyunjin thinks he'll never grow used to it. In fact, he promises himself he won't. He promises to always allow himself to be surprised by just how much you mean to him. Over and over again.

Minutes turn to hours, just like days always turned to years around Hyunjin. Eventually you climb out of the pool to not turn into raisins - but you still continue to be tangled with each other, making up for all the kisses you've missed for all those years you've kept each other at arm's length. It feels like a pipe dream to call him yours, to kiss his lips that felt like clouds, look into his eyes that filled with lightning, listen to the words filled with thunder. And yet, his heartbeat still spoke to you in calm waves-

You and Hyunjin jump from your seats at the sound of something loudly popping. You frantically look around for the sound, and you see Jihyo and Luna, holding a confetti tube towards you. The sparkly paper falls to the floor, while some are carried by the wind towards you.

"Congratulations!" The two cheer, and you can't help but snort. Where did they even get confetti from?

"Now that the cat's outta the bag, the asshole is out of the picture and you're finally dating the right guy-" Luna almost sounds like she's rapping while she rambles, and everyone carries amusement on their faces. "And this guy can stop whining in my ear about how much he wants you-" You turn towards Hyunjin in shock, and he tries to make himself small and hide. He fails. "We can finally have some nice, family fun!"

"I thought we agreed you'd let us have the pool tonight!" Hyunjin argues, but Luna tuts in response.

"So I can just watch you two make out from afar? Nah, I wanna see it in person." With the look of an almost psycho, Luna grabs your leg and pulls you into the pool with her. She splashes you wildly in the face, and soon Jihyo and Hyunjin join you in a water fight even a toddler would easily win.

After a while a whole lot of fun, you approach Jihyo for a light conversation while the other two are struggling to inflate a beach ball.

"Have you known for a long time?"

"About Hyunjin's feelings? No, it was Luna who knew. I didn't know until tonight, honestly."

Hyunjin has been confiding in Luna, it seems. She was the only one who knew his secret - or well, maybe she wasn't. You look up at the moon, and then back at Luna, and something seems to make you laugh.

It is very late into the night, and yet you are all still awake. It came to the point where you had to leave the water, but Luna stops in the middle of the hallway and blocks the path.

"Hey, didn't that girl teach you stuff about cleaning the pool and all?"

You didn't even remember her name by this point.

"Yeah, why?"

"So what cleaning supplies should one use, let's say, if the pool becomes dirty with... An entire luggage worth of clothes and stuff?"

"What?" Hyunjin asks, breaking into a wild laugh, but he feels as if he already knows what Luna is about to say.

"Let's throw David's stuff into the pool." You display a look of horror, but when you look at Hyunjin, you see him comically dash into the house.

You're too dazed to even register when the suitcase showed up in front of your face. All three of your peers attacked the zippers like wild hyenas, and soon your ex's clothes are sent flying into the pool.

"Even his underwear is ugly." Hyunjin says, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it as far as he could into the pool. "I'm gonna need hand sanitizer after this."

You start to enjoy it after a while. Sure, you still tell them to not throw anything electric or expensive in there, like his earphones or watch, but you are the one to chuck his toothbrush in the pool and watch it sink to the bottom.

"Revenge is best served wet, baby." Luna pretends to dust off her hands and leaves the scene of the crime with a deadly hair flip.

Giggling like a bunch of school girls, you part ways to go quickly shower the chlorine away from your bodies. Then you reunite, clad in your comfiest pj's, and cuddle to Hyunjin's chest to listen to the sound of the ocean waves.

"Angel?" He calls out to you, and you look at him with hazy eyes. "Would it be weird or overwhelming if I told you I love you?"

"No." You shake your head and giggle. It's not that it was new information to you, but it did hold a new meaning now. A meaning - you found - you were always craving to reciprocate. Why have you been searching for Hyunjin in all of those people, when he was right there with you, petting your hair and making you feel alive?

"And would it be weird or overwhelming if I said that to you every night?"

"No, I would like that actually." You reach up to kiss him. He welcomes it and chases after your lips, and it's such a new high, that you wish it to turn into a habit.

"Okay." He whispers. "I love you."

"I love you." You reply. You don't say 'me too', you don't say 'i love you too'. Because this is not an action that he does and you copy. No, you love him all on your own. It's so crazy, that you love him independently, and he loves you independently, and yet when you're put together, you form the same constellation.

It's a good thing Hyunjin locked the door, because somewhere around five in the morning you got woken up by loud banging on your door, your handle being shaken erratically and an array of swear words. Hyunjin woke up as well, and you both tried to stifle your giggles, because that night you heard swearwords and insults you didn't even know existed.

By afternoon, when you got out of your room, he was completely gone. Turns out he collected his clothes from the pool and left with them soaking in a garbage bag. Luna had snuck out in the morning to record a video of David, trying and failing repeatedly to fish out his clothes with the stick end of a broom. You laughed so hard it brought you to tears, and when you went outside to check, you saw the only thing left, was a chlorine infused toothbrush sitting sad and depressed at the bottom of the pool.

You blocked him and threw away the memory of him into the sea. You knew the sea would be mean to him, drown him out and silence him. Because the universe wanted someone else to love you.

The moon, the stars, and all the eight seas;

They whispered to you that you had found your destiny.

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[pyrotechnicarus]

what's your experience re: the difference between writing prose and scripts 😭 i have to write plays for the first time for school and i miss my wife Purple Prose

Congrats on writing your first play! And I definitely empathize -- switching from one form to the other was hard for me, and something I still struggle with. Musical theater is arguably the novelist's crutch into scriptwriting because we have access to songs -- the kind of access to the characters' thoughts and intentions you get throughout a novel, you can inject into a song, whereas straight playwrights (especially realist playwrights) don't always have that built-in genre convention for theatricalizing their character's minds.

Unless you're working at a level of heightened text in your play that allows interior monologues to be spoken aloud or narrators to describe things (which, hey, you might want to consider!) then you'll have to really work on externalizing both beauty (your beautiful descriptions of things in your short stories? now someone has to say them out loud. Who would? What sort of person would speak this way? Would anyone?) and character development (often my playwriting teacher says that every shift in a piece has to be signaled through an action. A character can't just change their mind. That change doesn't exist to the audience until they do something with that new perspective -- hurt another character, avoid a situation, indulge in something they've opposed before, etc.) Writing for theater really forces you to make your character arcs visible in a way that prose doesn't.

On the other hand, you now have access to a ton of other tools that you didn't have as a prose writer! These usually fall under the broad umbrella of "theatricalization," but really just mean everything you can do in the theater that you can't do in any other medium. The intercut scene before Me, Myself, and I in Adamandi -- the casual, silent cohabitation of the past couple and the present couple at the start of Ghost Story -- the use of the edge of the stage to represent suicide in Adamandi -- all only work because the theatrical audience is willing to accept thematic intersections of space, time, and character because of the boundaries of the stage. When can two things happen simultaneously? When can your character make eye contact with an audience member? When can they leave the stage? What does having collective physical bodies perceiving your art allow you to do - when are they crying together, laughing together, when does their pulse race? Can you make them feel scared? Try out writing scenes that take place in the dark, in a spotlight, with a silent actor onstage, or with significant costume changes that can carry an equal amount of the story to your stage directions and spoken text.

Finally, I guess my overall advice would be to study plays you admire (my benchmarks are currently Is God Is, Escaped Alone, Streetcar Named Desire, M. Butterfly, and various Paula Vogel plays -- And Baby Makes Seven is my fave but The Baltimore Waltz is probably a gentler introduction to her) for their conventions and copy the shit out of them. Imitate their formatting, for a bit. Steal a staging that works in your context. Cut your dialogue down viciously -- words and exchanges that take a few seconds to read on the page take precious minutes to say out loud. Watch out for conversational cul-de-sacs -- ideally each line should advance the scene, advance the characters, and advance the plot. If your character is saying stuff like "What's your name?" then maybe the scene needs to start later -- you want every line to be one that only that character would be able to say.

Relatedly, and I think a failing of mine when I made the switch that is now getting better: don't rely on tone indicators to do the work of adaptation. Your actors and directors will ignore them, first of all, but also each line should contain its proper reading -- it should be clear from the context of the scene whether your character is saying "Hello." (angrily) or "Hello." (haughtily). I try to limit myself to 10-20 tone lines per 90-page musical script, if that's a helpful benchmark for you (this is different from stage directions, but you should also not be using stage directions to take the place of good dialogue. Anything inconsequential -- he paces or chewing his lip or with a sly grin -- ought to be cut.)

Anyway, overall, have fun and do whatever it takes (including disobeying all the advice above) to FINISH IT! You'll only know once you have a full draft A. whether you want to keep going with this medium and B. what your storytelling is Like; how you can improve it. Good luck!

[olderthannetfic]

I've done some reading challenges before and I think they can be fun if they have a purpose: for instance, something like the Read Harder challenge, ones that encourage you to read from different genres or read more diverse books, etc. I have a sort of evergreen challenge where I encourage myself to read more books written by authors from different countries, and keep a spreadsheet of which countries I've "read." (I also do this with other kinds of entertainment like movies.) But it's definitely true that some of them just seem to be for the gimmick and aesthetic, and for people who prize quantity over quality of reading in a sort of commodity-fetishism (as they're prizing books as markers of intelligence over the actual experience of learning and expanding your world via reading). Like when the challenges start to be things like "read a book with an orange cover" that's where I start to roll my eyes a bit, haha.

I will say that while I try not to be a snob about reading, it does drive me nuts when I've had people lord over how many more books they've read or how many more pages when they're reading beach reads and YA and other easily digestible stuff whereas I'm reading stuff that is heavier. One time when I was working some crappy minimum-wage job in college, I was reading this big omnibus of all Jane Austen's works (because I was taking a class on her where I was required to read those, not that I wouldn't read Austen otherwise lol) on my break, and one of the other employees asked me how many pages it was and I answered and he was like "pfft, that's nothing, I read all the Harry Potter books in a week and they're more than that!" And I wanted to be like.... yeah, me too, dipshit. I mean, I didn't literally read them in one week, but when each one came out, I devoured it within a day or two like a lot of people did, despite it being 800 pages. Because Rowling's prose is really easy to gobble up like that. Not that Austen is impenetrable or anything (I don't think she is and I think that's precisely why she remains so evergreen popular), but she does require more effort than *that*, particularly when you're reading her work for a literature class where you're expected to write a paper analyzing it, so you want to linger to make sure you really deeply understand it.

I've read academic monographs that were 150 pages long that took me weeks to get through, and I've read 800-page bestsellers that I ripped through in a few days. Pure page length does not determine how long it takes to actually read something. I mean.... in fandom we should all be aware of this, how many of us have devoured some 100k fic in a night or two? As someone who has written some of those academic monographs myself and therefore is familiar with how word count tends to relate to book page length, I can verify for you that that is the equivalent of devouring a novel in the same time frame. But it's a lot easier to do that when you're reading relatively invisible prose and are invested in your OTP getting together (or whatever) vs. if you're trying to digest someone's very dry and convoluted argument about Foucault.

--

I just read all of Scum Villain in about five minutes, yeah. And it was great, but nothing to brag about as an achievement.

I've got this friend who goes on about reading sooooo fast but then admits to often rereading to catch things that she missed the first time. It came up when I was explaining how seldom I reread or rewatch anything. I tend to remember it far, far too keenly after one time through, and it just doesn't hit the same a second time. I still read pretty fast, but not that fast.

I don't think it's snobby to roll your eyes at people who clearly don't grasp the difference between different difficulties of reading and—this is key—who are trying to wave their dick at you about how great they are. They started it!

The time I do roll my eyes is when people think you should read mega hard prose in order to learn, especially in order to learn vocabulary or get faster at reading. That's not what the science says. (Apparently, the fastest way to improve on that kind of thing is to read mass quantities of faintly hard-for-you stuff, not stuff that's hard hard.) But to learn how to decode confusing arguments? Yes, absolutely.

I do wish people would put a little more effort into unwinding their own tortured syntax on Foucault though.

[henghost]

Twig Liveblog for Arc 18

what a banger arc let's fucking gooo. so many good infante sections, which is the most important part of any arc. just waltzing around in the plague. he's so cool. it's hard for me to really see him as the "antagonist" because i am always 100% behind him and whatever he wants to do. when he shoved a parasite down lillian's throat i was like, i wish that were me so bad. moans loudly.

good to get some yuri in there too. ugh i love mary/lillian together. i think, through biopunk technology, they need to figure out how to get each other pregnant. the same applies for sy and jessie. this would symbolize the completion of their respective character arcs.

i think my favorite part, though, was the fairy tale experiments. man it really puts so much in perspective. it recalled the sequence in gravity's rainbow wherein captain blicero holds katje and gottfried captive and forces them to act out an obscene sadomasochistic version of hansel and gretel. or the correspondence between the powerful financial executive jes staley and one jeffrey epstein:

there are the omelas ethics of it, of course. the little speech from ferres defending it on the basis of receiving funding in exchange, for instance, was chillingly familiar. but there is also some insight about the function of a ruling class. you will be violently mutilated into the shape of some simplistic archetype so as to become a point of data to research, so as to become a toy for despots. one of the most heartrending moments is when bo peep refuses to undergo surgery to fix the mutilations made by the academy, as though to live with the identity assigned to you by your overlords is simpler, easier, than to deal with the chaos of non-identity. the big bad wolf script--in this case pheromone-scented keywords with the purpose of total control--is some of the best prose wildbow has written imo.

i think betty is (yet another) lillian surrogate. there is something so banal in her cruelty. one of the things i've really admired about twig is how the "coming-of-age" is also a kind of political journey. the revelation that it is not the nobility who is really in power but instead the academy mirrors the movement of the young political person discovering that, despite appearances, it is really the morbidly boring death-cult of liberal technocracy behind all the solipsism and agony. ferres deserved worse lol.

i also enjoyed sy's patrick bateman-style switch to third-person. again, i'm really impressed by the effectiveness of this "fracture." there are some truly haunting scenes, scary nameless children running underfoot--it really got to me in a way that some of wildbow's other "horror imagery" simply doesn't. there's so much to say about the splitting of his SYche... perhaps i'll reserve my thoughts for a longer dedicated post about it...

twig is so good!! it continues to be mature, affecting, ambiguous, insightful. even... experimental. hahahaha. wildbow can write well sometimes wtf??? i don't believe it, frankly.

[liesmyth]

Any fiction recommendations? I’ve repeatedly read Locked Tomb, natch. I’d love something similarly brainwork inducing but maybe a touch lighter. Also not fantasy or sci fi…I need something to listen to while I do a ton of chores, and those can be hard (for me) because the unfamiliar proper nouns get confusing. :/

anon!! I'm terrible at reccing anything based on “if you liked TLT” because TLT is like five different genres in a trench coat, but I TRIED (⭐) Here are some brainworm-y recs that aren't sff — where by brainworm-y I mean that they stayed with me for a while after I finished them, but aren't overly confusing. (most of them are books, but available on audio)

Podcasts: a tumblr pal recced me the deviser based on me liking the eldritch elements of tlt; it's short and horror-y, and I really enjoyed it.

I haven't checked out the new TMA yet but I see many TLT peeps who are enjoying it (or S1 of the original The Magnus Archives could be a good entry point if you haven't ever listened to it)

TV: Unfortunately I hardly ever watch live action stuff BUT if you haven't seen either IWTV (the series not the film) or Yellowjackets, I do rec those! There's a lot of overlap between these fans and TLT fandom on my dash. His Dark Materials also goes hard and you might enjoy it (dysfunctional characters! worldbuilding! religious weirdness!) but it has more sff elements than other stuff I've recced. Oddball out of nowhere but The Great is a fun show if you enjoy the meme moments of TLT + people being gleefully horrible + having feelings despite your best intentions

Animanga: Utena (!!!!!) also Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, which occupies a very similar space to TLT in my brain

Books!

✧ I went through my “women unhinged” goodreads shelf and found some books that are avaliable in audio format, and might appeal. These are wildly varied in scope and ngl the criterion was just “at least one person (besides myself) who enjoyed tlt also this book” and the similarities stop there. It's all vibes baby! Still, I tried

my heart is a chainsaw by stephen graham jones (horror, slasher), bunny by mona awad (horror, wildly unhinged), the witching hour by anne rice (horror, gothic)

matrix by lauren groff (historical, lesbian nuns), anything by sarah waters (historical fiction + lesbians), rebecca by daphne du maurier (historical, gothic)

the plot by jean hanff korelitz (litfic, thriller), sadie by courtney summers (thriller, coming of age). anything by gillian flynn (thrillers with terrible women).

✧ I really enjoy Tana French thrillers for the strong sense of place, great prose, and the complete emotional turmoil of her character-centric narratives. If anything sounds up your alley, I enjoyed the witch's elm + dublin murder squad series. They're murder mystery procedural but the messy characters really elevate the novels. Available in audiobook also

✧ American Elsewhere, technically scifi but set in New Mexico. Somehow, cosmic horrors who have taken over a quaint little town and worse! They are enforcing HETERONORMATIVITY upon it! They also have tentacles. The main character rocks

✧ Sundial by Catriona Ward: insane, gripping psychological horror. A mother and her unsettling daughter take a trip to the isolate desert ranch where the main chracter grew up. Surrounded by unsettling science experiments

✧ A Touch of Jen by Beth Morgan: when the parasocial relationship is so strong, it accidentally summons a hellmonster from another dimension

✧ SFF adjacent, sorry, but set in the real world (historical, tho) — Cuckoo Song by Frances Hardinge, a middle grade novel with fairytale elements that gave me more brainworms than any kids book ought to, mostly because I LOVED the main character. She occupies a very similar place in my brain as Gideon does. This is actually the only book on the list that I'm not sure is available in audio format, but if you get a chance and it's up your alley, I'd check it out

I hope there's at least ONE thing you'll like in here! lmk (also. lmk if you don't have access to a way to borrow audiobooks but would like to)

[deathbydarkelves]

I went to the bookstore yesterday and spent some time picking out semi-random fantasy books to read their first few lines or pages. And I was baffled by how few attempted to describe a place. Any specific place. So many started with characters talking in a blank white room, or characters musing about their own backstories in a similarly blank white room.

These weren’t your dime-a-dozen “romantasy” books, I was actually looking for something to seriously read. It’s been sad ages since I found a fantasy book that really truly sucked me in and teleported me someplace else.

No, these were books describing themselves as adventure stories. Or just a story which heavily involved its world. And yet maybe two of the dozen or more books I looked at actually tried to describe a place.

I described this experience to a friend and he said it may be a side effect of fantasy becoming a more popular genre recently. More books means there’ll be more shitty books. Fine, that makes sense. But I just… I can’t fathom approaching a fantasy story with the mindset that the world and place is secondary. Fantasy is about being someplace else. And these are pieces of original fiction. The authors had to come up with names and borders and landmarks. And then they don’t want to explore any of it? They don’t want to describe in loving prose how the river just paces from the town's stockade flows from the western mountains and glints gold under the rising autumn sun? I guess not, because they just open with dialogue and two characters existing… somewhere, in a blank room, and halfway through the first conversation the narrator gets distracted and starts explaining the last hundred years of history. Which have no direct relation to whatever is supposed to be happening.

The books I read and loved as a kid — Deltora Quest, The Inheritance Cycle, How to Train Your Dragon — those all took time to describe their worlds and place me and the characters within them. That’s what fantasy is. Hell that’s what WRITING is.

You don’t need a degree in geography and meteorology and archaeology and linguistics to build your world. You don’t even necessarily need to write the past hundred years of history. I respect the desire to write a character-centric story. But for fuck’s sake, put us somewhere.

Genuinely I cannot imagine caring so little about your characters and your readers that you can’t be bothered to put soft, rain-damp soil under their feet. Or hard-packed dirt in the market square marked with hoof prints. Or snow crusted over from yesterday’s warmth.

The Lord of the Rings wasn’t and isn’t such a big deal just because it was set in a fantasy land with elves and dwarves. It’s because there were incomprehensible amounts of love and care put into the world, and then into describing it. It's a story not just about its characters but about its world. Even just watching the movies you can see how much love was put into the world and how badly the creators wanted to show it to us. Earthsea and, stepping away from books, Critical Role are so good because there was love put into their worlds, and then the creators did everything in their power to show us those worlds. Have you listened to some of Mercer's environmental descriptions?

It’s not enough to come up with place names and list them off when relevant (or when they’re not). It’s the difference between reading about another country in a tourism book and actually going there.

Why bother writing someplace else if you don’t at least attempt to take us there?

It’s a goddamn shame. All this time I've been book-less, I thought my standards were just unnecessarily high and that I was misremembering how good the books of my childhood were. But no. No I think there actually is an issue where people think fantasy is just the presence of elves and wizards and maybe dwarves or dragons. From the fucking start fantasy has been about other worlds. You don’t have to try and write the next Lord of the Rings or A Song of Ice and Fire but put some damn love into your work. Show your characters and your readers some damn love and put them somewhere.

Put us in a low-ceilinged tavern where shadows cling to the corners as thick as cobwebs. Describe the bounty hunter not just by her outfit, but by the way the fog is still clinging to her fur mantle as dew as she walks inside.

If you want to get better at writing it’s best to read, but at LEAST watch The Fellowship of the Ring or play Skyrim or something. Take a walk in your closest nature reserve/park. Put yourself somewhere else. Take in the sunlight filtering dappled through the whispering leaves, feel the earth under your feet and the air in your throat and lungs. Look up and watch wispy clouds float across the sky through a gap in the trees, birds darting from branch to branch below them. Stay there until that sweetens into an ache in your chest as you realize you will never bring anyone else into this exact place and moment. And then go home, open your manuscript, and try your absolute damnedest to do it anyway.

[blixabargelds]

Hiii Frankie 💕 7, 8 and 15 please ( for the writer ask meme)

thank you babieee

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

man this was hard. it’s honestly probably this long ass paragraph from my succession fic this mess we’re in. there’s holes i can poke it in from a writing perspective, i think my syntax is maybe lacking a little in what i now think of as my unique style, but man. it’s the one that came to my head and my gut so. it’s so personal and raw and uncomfortable and honest. i put my entire soul into this fic and i think this part both resonated deeply with a lot of readers which is so important to me, and is one of the reasons when i was in the succ fandom i had a lot of people tell me i was The roman roy understander. i think i’m good at getting into characters heads and this encapsulates that pretty well.

Roman’s never said yes please in his fucking life, but he has wanted it. It just rarely aligns for him like it does for other people. His head wants it, and his dick doesn’t. His dick wants it, and his head wants it to stop. He’s practised in knowing which part to listen to. Normally, the choice which makes whoever is fucking him get it over with. Fight or flight doesn’t work for him, he knows this, so he freezes until one of them comes. It’s not never him. Occasionally his head and his dick want it, like when Grace had worn that pantsuit and choked him still wearing it, or Gerri- he’d wanted it every time with her. She’d got it right, too. That razor’s edge of pain and pleasure, always pressed slightly closer to the former vein for Roman to feel right. Roman’s been thinking about it all, since he’s started staying with Stewy. About the possibility of being normal with sex. The idea of waking up next to someone and not immediately wanting to slink away, pretend it didn’t happen. The idea of getting fucked without being held down or hit. He just can’t picture it for himself. He’s been thinking about how he can’t get into some rooms of his head. He’s started to remember being called beautiful, a long time ago. He still hasn’t been to his barber.

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

again so hard!! i love dialogue and it’s something i think i’m really good at and get the most comments on. honestly there’s probs better ones i’ve done but i really love this exchange when john is trying to distract gale from getting his fucked up arm reset in this must be the place. mostly bc i came up w the meatball story on the spot it just flowed out of me i should write for scooby doo fr. and i also love the desperation of trying to distract someone from inevitable horror without giving away your gay love in a POW camp. idk it’s just fun

“Remember when you thought you saw a ghost in England?”

“Did not,” Gale says. His breathing isn’t quite right. Restrained and sharp, but John can tell he’s trying.

“You did,” John presses on. Buck turns his head a little, the anticipation of going untouched clearly building, but John takes his chin between his thumb and forefinger, brings him back around to look at him. “You woke me up at Christ knows what time. I never seen you so frantic, I thought you were finally drunk. And you shook me awake, oh, Bucky, I saw somethin’. Oh, Bucky, I swear it was movin’ through the north side barracks.” Gale blinks slowly, huffs out a small laugh. “And I thought you’d gone crazy. ’Cos Buck Cleven, he told me he don’t believe in any of that bushwa first day I met him, when I told you my grandma used to post up in Ma’s house when she was already long gone.”

“Didn’t see no ghost, John,” Gale says. John knows he can sense Doc moving beside him, now. He’s gone tense, chest rising and falling with gaining speed.

“Hey, Buck, hey,” John says, trying desperately to pull his attention back to him. Gale meets his eyes, and John is hopeless to combat the panic in them. “I know you didn’t. Remember what it was, huh? Remember?”

“Meatball,” Gale says, barely audible.

“Fuckin’ Meatball. Got into the pantry and brought a whole bag of flour down on him. He looked ghostly, I’ll give ya that-”

John is cut off when Gale screams. He has never heard a sound like it from another human being.

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Superstar. it’s literally me and elo’s prestige show. other than that this must be the place bc i love to see austin in pain

[convulsionofhonesty]

top 10 books of 2022

i read 50 books this year and i’m going to share my top 10 and what i loved most about them (in no particular order)

1. writers & lovers by lily king - this book legitimately changed my life by reminding me of how desperate i am to lead a creative life. there are certain books that make you want to be a writer. this is one. featuring clean-cut, economical prose that gets straight to the point, and the point is diving into one of the most compelling characters i’ve had the honor to spend a story with. i read it twice this year because i will never be ready to part with this main character.

2. last night at the telegraph club by malinda lo - this was a reread for me and i appreciated it infinitely more the second time. the vividness of the writing strikes me as a particular triumph of this work. you can feel every emotion, see and hear every setting. that and a deeply engaging narrative make it one of those books that i continue to think about constantly.

3. crush by richard siken - my favorite poetry collection i have read, and reread, both within this year. he is one of those writers that reminds you how amazing it is to be a human that can feel and say so much. sharp images, glorious repitition, and stunning formatting that has inspired much of my own adventure into the world of unique poetic structure on the page.

4. homegoing by yaa gyasi - probably one of the most ingenious books i have ever read. to this day i fail to understand how it is possible to cover so much in so few pages and not leave the reader feeling like something is missing, but she certainly does it. sweeping multi-generational story where each chapter reads like both an exquisite short story that could stand on its own and a part of the richly woven whole. phenomenal novel that i wholeheartedly believe will be a classic in the future.

5. the idiot by elif batuman - another character that weaseled her way into my brain and has never left. a plotless, indulgent, meandering character study that struck such a cord with me. i read this at the exact right time in my life and for the week that i was making my way through it, there was no distinction between the narrator and myself in my mind. i don’t know how to explain this, but i was narrating my own life through this character’s eyes. captivating.

6. piranesi by susanna clarke - an exemplary work of fantasy that explores the nuances of knowledge and gratitude, balancing expertly between critiquing the pursuit of knowledge and power and exalting wonder, curiosity, and science. a book written in journal entries which flows perfectly and never feels choppy. leaves you thinking differently about the world.

7. open water by caleb azumah nelson - a short novella you can read in a day, and you will have to, as it is so enchanting and haunting that you cannot stop. it fully took over my mind until i finished it. it features second person narration which creates an unmatched level of closeness between reader and narrator. triumphantly evocative, intimate, and precise prose. the most poetic novel(la) i've had the pleasure of reading since on earth we're briefly gorgeous.

8. the great believers by rebecca makkai - the highlight of this book is the dense prose; every sentence feels perfectly chosen and hits you just as hard as the last. there is never a break, never a breather from the stunning writing. for that reason it is a slow book to move through, but in the best way. also accomplishes using dual pov/timelines in a way that does not detract from the fluidity of the work. very heavy subject matter but imbued with hope, gratitude, and affection.

9. the starless sea by erin morgenstern - prior to reading piranesi, this was my favorite fantasy read of the year. the world is so engrossing and the formatting of the novel is unique and inventive. vivid world builidng and a meandering, cris-crossing plot that enthralls from the beginning. an ode to humanity and the interconnectedness of the stories we tell.

10. babel by r.f. kuang - a lengthy novel that is well worth the time it takes, featuring a slate of morally ambiguous young people bumping up against the limits of their social power. similarly to piranesi, it embraces curiosity, drive, passion, and learning while chastising the intrenchment of power in academia. kuang cements herself as figurehead of the historical fantasy subgenre, tapping into its full potential.