#but the hana quote fits too well so its for her now

[haomnyangz]

May I ask what your relationship with Ha-na is? We're her...family. We're her family. THE UNCANNY COUNTER S2: COUNTER PUNCH (2023)

[teriwrites]

2020 Writing Wrap-Up

Something that I do every year on the 1st is go back through absolutely everything I’ve written throughout the previous year and compile it into one massive word document. Everything from outlining notes to unfinished short stories to my NaNo project wind up in that file, where I like to read back and reflect on what I’ve gotten done through the year. 

Every year, I end up having written more than I expected, and this year was no different! 

Total for 2020: 203,119!

This is the first recorded year (I think it’s year 4 that I’ve done this for?) in which I’ve cracked 200K! It’s also the first year I’ve ever actually followed through on my resolution to share some of my writing online! So as rough as 2020 has been, I still somehow managed to break some personal records in writing. Which probably has everything to do with the fact that I joined this community earlier this year, and it’s been incredibly encouraging and supportive!

I also branched out a bit more this year in a few ways. I worked on some poetry and prose, which is not something I’ve put a lot of time into before so tends to be a challenge. It’s nothing that I’ll be posting anytime soon, but it was fun to work on in the moment, which is especially important in such a wild year as 2020.

One snag that I definitely hit was the fact that I have a lot more unfinished work than most years. A majority of the short stories I started working on never got finished. But I can’t even be too upset about that, because I totally loved being able to read back on even the fragmented pieces I ended up with. And while I do think a large part of that (for me) is discipline over inspiration, I’m willing to accept that, sometimes, things will remain unfinished. And it’s okay to stop working on them. 

My overall focus shifted a bit this year, too, which was interesting. I worked more on longer things than most years - started out the year by finishing my first draft of Castle on the Hill, continued making some edits and reworking its outline, did a large part of Beneath Alder Creek’s first draft in November. Right now, I’m working on what I expect to be a novella by the time I’m done with it. It’s a big contrast to the usual, short and snappy short stories that fill most of my previous wrap-up files. But I still definitely write those sometimes, and it’s nice to be able to try stretching and testing my own boundaries. 

This is the part of my wrap-up where I go ham throwing in some of my favorite out-of-context quotes from a variety of different things I’ve worked on. Some of them might be familiar, a lot probably won’t. I’m going to post it beneath the thing so this doesn’t become even more absurdly long!

Some of the ~highlights~ of 2020:

First Thoughts in the Morning: wow the sexual tension between me and the alarm clock right now. Later Reflection: wtf? (a literal note on my notes app that I included because I Cannot remember writing any of this and it made me laugh)

Edriele’s gaze trailed down to the woman’s armor, and her stomach twisted. “Where did you find your attire?” The woman glanced down in surprise, as though she’d forgotten she was wearing it. “It was fitted to me when I gained my ranking. I suppose it draws attention, but after my confrontation at… you mean to ask me whether I’m impersonating a Knight!” “The thought had crossed my mind,” the Sister replied dryly. (novella WIP)

“Do you need to make a stop at your house before we head to the chapel?” Leslie asked as they started off. “What for?” Winnie asked. Leslie looked pointedly at the tip of her galoshes poking out from beneath her dress. With another roll of her eyes, Winnie sighed. “Oh, I suppose so.” (Beneath Alder Creek)

When the third meeting for the Society of the Hidden Immortal Tribe was called for the decade, I knew heads would roll. Gathering the entire society together took months. Everything had to be hush-hush; that was the entire point of spreading ourselves out. Plus, every time a letter arrived in the mail, it was a reminder of the idiot who had decided we needed a name change. Everybody agreed that being deemed the ‘S.H.I.T.’ was humiliating, but nobody could agree on a better title, so it had remained the same for nearly a full century. That was the problem with living forever. You always had more time to make decisions, and, in the end, nothing ever got done. (S.H.I.T.)

When she leaves, I’m not sure I remember a word of what she’s said. But as the stresses of the semester wash back in, and my mind clears like being pulled out of a dream, I suddenly understand how one could crash upon the rocks without realizing they’d ever changed their course. (A Modern Siren)

When Georg arrived later, he found Klaus leaning forwards onto the table, staring vacuously at one of his textbooks. "Studying hard?" he taunted as he approached and dropped into the seat Ingrid had been occupying. "I talked with Ingrid," Klaus explained. Georg's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, but he quickly recovered and looked pointedly at Klaus' posture. "Go that well, then?" "She said I'm arrogant and completely self-involved and that I never take what a girl says into account whenever I'm on a date." With a haunted gleam in his eye, Klaus stared up at his friend. "I think she's right." "Well then it's a good thing somebody pointed it out," Georg offered, and he turned to his work. (Castle on the Hill)

Takemoto Hana rested a hand over her face. She couldn’t see the swirling of darkness over her head, but she heard the whine behind its words. With a wry smile, she asked, ‘Do you not know how to brew tea?’ ‘Of course I know how to brew tea!’ The dark spirit’s voice boomed with a defensive defiance that rang false in the funny little woman’s ears.  (The Funny Little Woman)

“None of us want to be here right now,” Edgar called out to the hall. “None of us want to go back through the handbook and listen to the steps of proper etiquette in immortality. But it seems that, once again, it’s necessary.” “Dammit, Dave,” muttered the man next to me. I said nothing, but I couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. Dave was… how do I describe Dave? To call him an idiot would be underestimating his craftiness. To call him a genius, I’d have to ignore all of his dumb antics. Cruel was too strong. Misguided was too innocent. Mischievous fit best, but even that fell short. Dave was a trickster god, if ever one existed. (S.H.I.T.)

Ridiculous, he told me with a self-conscious laugh of someone who didn't expect to be believed. I smiled, but I didn't join in. (The Little Roads)

“Hey, where did Alina go?” Lorelai asked. Zoe shrugged, but Jaiden cleared his throat. “I think you crossed one of her boundaries, Lo. She specifically asked not to involve her girlfriend in this, and then you did anyways. I know we needed the help, but friendships have to be built on mutual trust, my dude. You should’ve at least let her know your plan before you went behind her back.” The two women stopped and shared a look. “Hey, Jaiden,” Zoe asked. “Do you know the capital of Canada?” He shook his head. “I dunno, Ontario?” “Amazing.” (Mirror, Mirror)

"We had a bet going over whether you'd make it in time," Hans told him. "Did you win or lose?" Josef replied. Hans flipped a 5-Deutsche Mark coin over to Peter, who grinned as he pocketed it. "I'm glad you have so much faith in me." Josef's voice dripped with sarcasm. (Castle on the Hill)

Taliesin reached over his head and grabbed at one of the low-hanging bows, picking leaves from it. “I’m not sure.” Winnie stopped. “What do you mean?” “I mean that I don’t know.” (Beneath Alder Creek)

While she attended to these, the man beside her began to stir. Ella could see him out of the corner of her eye, attempting to push himself up into a sitting position. ‘You may want to lie back down,’ she told him, scrubbing uselessly at her skirt. The man continued to sit up anyways, pressing a hand against the side of his face. ‘Am I killed?’ ‘No, but your savior may be.’ Ella threw her skirt back to the ground. ‘When the Madame sees the state of me, I’ll be spending my future afternoons off making a new dress out of the fabric scraps.’ A frown crossed the man’s face as he considered her words, followed by a scowl of understanding. ‘You work for them. The bourgeoisie.’ (Cinderella)

Ingrid took the seat and began digging through her bag for a book. As she did so, she explained, "There were no other tables open in the building - even in the quiet section upstairs - so I figured that I would just ask the first person I recognized if I could sit with them, and well... here we are." "Don't worry about it," Georg answered when Klaus found himself dumbstruck again. "Just ignore the oaf, he'll leave you alone." Ingrid shot a grin at Georg, and Klaus suddenly wondered whether it was a good idea to have the two of them sit together. (Castle on the Hill)

Up ahead, I could see the glass walls of the bus stop. Usually, I waited for the bus leaning against the metal frame of the stop, leaving the seats inside open for children on their way to school. But the seats were empty now. I still avoided them. (Flo’s Magical Emporium: The Pandemic)

Now, I ask that you do not feel too much self-pity. For as easy an error as it may be to mistake a visiting aristocrat’s son for the hired help, the true talent in such a display causing his immediate departure lies within you alone. And to think that the meeting was the work of your father’s tenuous sway over the court! Well, I am sure the time away will do him some good, lest you begin to consider that you’ve ruined his position as well as your prospects. (Dearly Detested,)

Edgar was at the front of the lecture hall, and standing beside him was Dave, smirking as though at some private joke that only he was in on. He was wearing sunglasses, despite the dim lighting of the room, probably because he thought he looked cool. I rolled my eyes. What a tool. (S.H.I.T.)

 The work is different now. Countryside pathways winding through the forest lie forgotten for years without the familiar steps of a traveler. Off beaten paths in the city are never unknown for long, and sometimes streets that were once crossed by thousands a day fall back into obscurity. (The Little Roads)

“How much time will you give me to think on it?” she asked suspiciously, wrapping her arms around herself as though afraid they’d reach out to him if not kept in check. “You have all the time in the world,” the golden man said. “The boy’s, however, runs out with every passing second.” He extended his hand. (Beneath Alder Creek)

You ever met a rich person? Not comfortably wealthy. Not ‘my Uncle Kenny is a lawyer’ rich. Not even ‘widow answering the door to her manor on a hill dressed in fine silk’ rich. No, I mean proper, so-much-money-you-literally-can’t-spend-it-fast-enough rich. They say it isn’t worth Bill Gates’ time to pick up a $100 bill off the floor because he’ll have earned more in the time it takes to grab it. That kind of rich. They seem to be bred for times like these. Their houses are a source of endless entertainment – movie theaters, bowling alleys, personal gyms with a view of the sprawling landscape they overlook like cruel dictators. There’s no need for them to leave during a pandemic; they have access to the equivalent of a luxury resort most families have to save up month to visit. Necessities can be stockpiled in one of the useless extra spaces in the house. I mean, I once had to hide out in a luggage room for a contract. That’s right. An entire room dedicated to holding luggage, bigger than some of the apartments I’ve rented. I thought their residential labyrinths were my greatest source of grief. But social distancing? I’m one bad contract away from retirement. (Bounty Hunter During a Pandemic)

Shaking his head, Detlef pulled a new sheet from his notebook. “Look, I’m just saying, if we can get the satire right, we can be a modern Jonathan Swift.” “I don’t want to be a modern Jonathan Swift, I want to be a student actually passing his debate course!” Peter snapped. (Castle on the Hill)

Moonlight illuminated the German’s fair hair and pale skin, the effect more malevolent apparition than man. (Face on the Other Side of a Dark Window)

Back then, he’d been known for commissioning the exact same portrait of himself every hundred years, hanging them in a hallway in his manor and trying to pass them off as his line of ancestors to any of the locals. It had been a far less skeptical age, and Dave had earned himself a small band of worshipers before Jeff Goldblum himself had been forced to intervene. (S.H.I.T.)

Clara stood before the board of advisors assisting with her thesis. She was one, very intense paper away from her M.A., and she wasn’t about to risk it all by being too proud to ask for help. When she’d made the appointment to meet with them, she expected a series of questions surrounding her topic. Instead, they’d opened by offering her a job. “You want me to steal from the school?” Dr. Pye wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. Next to her, Dr. Pritchard said, “Don’t think of it as theft, dear. It’s merely redistribution.” Clara hadn’t amassed tens of thousands of dollars in debt to be lectured on the definition of robbery. “Either way, it involves me sneaking into the Chemistry department and taking a huge risk to get you some new toys to play with.” (Origins: The Ghost)

“Why is undermining Pryderi so important to Queen Ceridwen that she would risk breaking a timeless alliance just to dismantle them?” Her stomach twisted into a knot, protesting against the answer. “There are few members of the Dusk Court that we know by title.” A shadow passed over Enid’s expression. “The Lord of the Undernell is second only to the Queen.” “Great deeds build the reputation of one in their own court. Cruelty builds it in both.” Taliesin buckled under Winnie’s weight as she suddenly leaned against him. (Beneath Alder Creek)

“Why are all my friends so quick to endanger themselves?” I muttered as I packed up Midas’ crate. Natalie swiveled around from the candy aisle. “So you’re finally willing to admit that we’re friends?” “Save it.” (Flo’s Magical Emporium: The Pandemic)

[thequeenofcronuts]

Uncertainties - A Royal Romance AU Story Chapter 1 Brothers and Sisters

AU Summary - Career life is busy for a group of six friends when they meet a captivating woman with a beautiful soul. New friendships are forged and new romances revealed. All the while hearts are torn and closets are cleared of skeletons. True love always wins in the end, right?

AU Warnings - This AU Stand Alone will include the following 18+ subjects: Language, NS*W, Verbal Abuse, and Abortion. If ANY of these subjects will cause pain or hardship in reading, please skip reading Uncertainties. That being said, each chapter will include its own specific warnings.

AU Uncertainties Pairings and Characters: Pairings and Characters: Drake x Riley /  Liam x Riley  /  Liam x Olivia  / Drake x Olivia / Maxwell x Savannah, including Hana, and Madeleine; plus OCs

*** All characters from the Choices Book: The Royal Romance are owned by Pixelberry Studios (Any other characters are the product of my brain…I probably should apologize now. 🙃😉)

Series Tags: @client-327 @dcbbw

————

Chapter 1 Summary - Meet the six friends…plus one more.

Chapter 1 Warnings - None

Chapter 1 Word Count: 2,700-ish

————

The Present

The private VIP suite of all private VIP suites in the Silicon Valley was most certainly at Club Peacock, owned by one Maxwell Beaumont. The ultimate of exclusive settings was constantly booked by the rich and famous, tycoons of various industries, the giants of the technological world, and an unlikely group of six, far from famous, friends. The last Saturday of every month Hana, Olivia, Savannah, Drake, Liam, and Maxwell took over the massive suite which held all the bells and whistles.

The three girls and three guys met in college when the ladies’ Sorority held a joint party with the guys’ Fraternity in celebration of surviving rushing their Freshman year. The University of South California grads were a family always putting each other before any blood relatives, and kept their promise to live in close proximity of each other after school. With the exclusion of Maxwell, well because he was Maxwell, the others used their talents to work in various children related industries. They were an excellent fit for six very different, but perfectly matched, friends.

This particular Saturday night Liam and Drake are sipping on a whiskey which is the type dreams are made of while sunken back in one of the specially commissioned Italian leather sofas, while Maxwell and Savannah were heating up the dance door. Hana was sitting with Olivia in oversized chairs with their drinks chatting up a storm. Olivia was leaning in to share her phone screen with her friend when Maxwell smoothly dances his way over to their corner. He shakes his head as he saw Olivia’s screen. “Ladies, what is the only rule the six of us follow in my club?” Maxwell still moving to the groove of the music while Olivia rolls her eyes and answers flatly, “ ‘The one rule of Club Peacock is no one talks about anything outside of Club Peacock.’ You know Maxwell, that is a sad, pathetic, and ridiculous attempt at a “Fight Club” reference.” Hana pipes in, “Maxwell, I kinda have to admit that you quote that movie way too often while this isn't even a secret club.” Maxwell, unfazed, does a spin and faces back to the ladies. “Don't make me have to kick you two out.” He gives a playful look. “Now nix the work talk and dance, or you’re outta here. That's an order from your club owner.” With a huff Olivia puts her phone in her purse and hits the dance floor with Hana.

Sunday morning finds the friends sleeping in pullout beds located throughout the suite. A collective groan fills the room as the “VIP Party - After Morning” staff, a staff Maxwell created for the club’s VIPs of VIPs, turn on the low lights while bringing in water and aspirin. Everyone pops their aspirin and raises their glass as Maxwell toasts, “Until our next Saturday night partaaayyy!” They barely clink their glasses to avoid unnecessary, painful noise and pick up their belongings as they head to their respective homes to crash. Hoping that the less than twenty-fours they have will be enough to get them through Monday.

***

Monday morning Liam steps out of the elevator and meets his assistant who is at the ready with coffee, a bagel, and Liam’s in office tablet opened to related industry news, and Liam’s daily calendar app. Liam grabs the items with a thank you entering the study portion of his office. His office, which occupies the entire top floor of the building, includes a full ensuite accessible through a set of massive modern double doors which are located behind the desk and to the left of a fully windowed wall. To the right of the windowed wall is a door that leads to his private conference room containing every technology needed for meetings, as well as bar to entertain for any occasion. The decor throughout the top floor is modern with touches of nods to the 1950’s ideas of the future, which have been lost to history. Certainly an office fit for a CEO of a multimillion dollar technology company.

As Liam sips his coffee and snacks on his bagel he reads the daily report from the company’s Head of Patent and Technological Security Department. The department gathers any potential breaches from other companies on the exclusive intellectual properties of Innovative Toy Box; the company Liam has built from the ground up. Today there is no information reported of concern and turns his attention to the articles of interest his assistant has lined up. Looking over his meetings for the day he sees his one o’clock and visibly cringes.

***

Besides the building’s security team, Drake is the first one into the office, as always, regardless of his hatred towards early mornings. A hatred which still runs strongly through his veins since college, or ever really. He never had an eight a.m. class while in school, and he avoided nine a.m. classes whenever possible. Yet, here he is behind his desk at six a.m. opening his large thermos of strong black coffee as he begins to look over his staff’s previous day reports. He sifts through looking for any possible intellectual or copyright infringement threats and finds only a few small items, but no real potential problems. Had there been any the conclusion of his report would recommend those that needed to be brought to the legal department. 

He writes up his report with his final recommendations and attaches it to his daily email to the CEO. He then gets ready to assist his staff identify information they should spend their day researching while he sits back taking a huge gulp of his coffee. The job is a great one and he enjoys it immensely. Drake has always felt the best when he is doing something that makes a difference, and working for his best friend to protect what Liam has built is an honor. Drake smirks as he can hear Liam's exasperated voice in his head, “You don't work for me Drake, you work with me to keep this company strong.” Drake sighs, I just wish I didn't have to be here at “0’dark thirty” every day.

***

Not too terribly far away Savannah heads to the College Preparatory Academy she works at, stopping for two coffees on they way, and soon finds herself in the Teachers Lounge for the daily morning staff meeting. As she makes her way to sit with the other kindergarten teachers she quickly sets the second coffee at the head table. Seven a.m. on the dot Olivia walks in and grabs the cup of coffee looking over the room as her eyes stop on Savannah for just a brief second as her thanks for the morning caffeine. She opens the staff meeting with announcements of new upcoming events, reminders of school policies which she feels her teachers are neglecting, and ends with the reminder that the quarterly Parent Night is next Friday.

With a fierce look and voice conveying a subtle threatening tone, she reminds them that every employee reflects on the kindergarten through high school level College Prep Academy, as well as on herself, the Head of School. She will not tolerate anything less than perfection on parent night as these nights are one of the main reasons the most prestigious parents in the Valley send their children to Scarlet College Preparatory Academy. Olivia dismisses the group to go about their day, and Savannah makes her way to her classroom. She loves her friend, but sometimes she feels the Head of School is defending a fortress. Savannah chuckles to herself as she sees some of the sweetest faces come running to hug her and start their day.

***

Hana glides into her studio Monday morning with tea and fresh fruit for her small group of designers. She started Petits Dessins Doux with just herself and a sketchbook designing and creating pieces of specialty couture clothing for babies and toddlers. Soon her brand was being discovered by eager clients much faster than she had originally anticipated, and before she could fully comprehend it she needed to employ a staff of designers. It was a difficult task as they each had to have Hana's same level of passion and talent, but in the end she created one of the best teams in the industry.

It wasn't long until her company partnered with exclusive small boutiques in her little area of the sprawling Silicon Valley. Small chain stores also contacted her, but Hana refused to compromise quality for volume so she declined the offers and the company stayed small. She wanted her business at just the right size to reach her goals while keeping herself grounded.

While her designers handle the business with the boutiques, Hana takes on the projects for high profile clients, as well as projects for friends. Currently she is working with Olivia creating new uniforms for the Prep Academy, and she is also working on Savannah’s wedding gown. Most recently Hana learned that Petits Dessins Doux is nominated for one of the most prestigious fashion awards in their area of California, The Ruby Award. Hana is deeply honored as fellow local members of the industry nominated the company for the award in the small businesses category: “Excellence in Ingenuity and Quality”.

***

The six friends did have one more college alum who was not, thank god, in their tight-nit group. Unfortunately, they had no way to shake her off no matter how much they desperately wanted to. She wasn't in any Sorority back in college believing they were a ridiculous waste of, well, everything. Even to this day she thinks Olivia, Hanna, and Savannah were idiots for rushing. In addition she absolutely cannot stand all the brotherly, sisterly feels the six friends share just because of their days playing beer pong at drunken parties. Yet, here is she, not going away anytime soon, much to everyone's chagrin.

————————

The Past

The lamentable story behind this woeful business arrangement was due to the fact that Liam, originally being from New York, had infuriated his father by choosing the University of South California over his father’s alma-mater, Cornell University. Liam's father, Charles, had built a very lucrative Securities Lending Business and expected his son to take over.

The man was on quiet a few boards and in groups of financial support for Cornell with his college best friend whose only daughter also attended USC. She was determined to work in the successful area of Silicon Valley and as Liam's company grew he needed a Public Relations Director. Liam had been “asked” by his father to hire his college best friend’s daughter, and  “asked” meant Charles had already promised her the position without talking to Liam.

Madeleine wasn't at the company very long before Liam realized he couldn't stand her. Her voice made his skin crawl, and any time he had to talk to her he knew what being trapped in hell must feel like. Much to his dismay, and that of all the employees she came in contact with, she did her job. Even if she hadn't he would never be able to fire her as long as his father was around.

————————

The Present

It's exactly one p.m. and Liam's assistant knocks on his study’s door, but the gentleman can't even announce Liam's one o’clock meeting has arrived when he hears her shrill voice and heavy foot steeps fill the study. She pushes the assistant out of her way and walks directly to one of the chairs on the opposite side of Liam's desk and with a look of expectation, slams herself down. Liam looks over the woman’s shoulder and gives his assistant an apologetic look while the gentleman quickly exits closing the door. A few moments later Liam begins to speak. “Good afternoon Madeleine. Please won't you come in and take a seat. Oh, I’m sorry I missed that you already have.” Madeleine rolls her eyes and exasperatedly begins despite his sarcastic comment, “Liam, I don't time for that attitude as I am swamped. You won't let me get rid of your incompetent employees and let me hire an acceptable staff. I need staff that have any sort of clue how to do there jobs.” Liam dramatically leans back in his chair and places his hands on the back of his head resting them there. “Oh yes Madeleine, you're incredibly busy while I have tons of free time to just relax at this desk all day playing app games on my phone.” He chortles at the vexed look rapidly coming over her face and radiating from her body.

He sits up right as he figures that's enough torture, for now at least. “Make all the little jokes you want, Liam, but you can never fire me.” She smirks maliciously while he stares right into her eyes. “Maybe, maybe not. Who knows what happens to businesses in this industry. Now, why are we having this meeting? Please enlighten me as, per usual, you scheduled a meeting with no subject or goal mentioned.” Madeleine slams a massive report on his desk clearly in agitation while tossing him a look of disbelief. “Are you really not thinking about the time of year it is? You're hopeless! How does this company continue to exist day after day?! The deadline for the company to choose the cause to support for this fiscal year is almost here. I’m sure the board of directors would just love for the company to completely miss the largest philanthropy move of the year. Not to mention the financial implications.” Liam folds his arms over his chest trying to keep an even tone.

“Madeleine, we give to worthy causes consistently all the time, and while I know this is our largest contribution of the year I will not just pick a cause because of your pressure. I am fully aware of the financial benefits the company receives, and as I’ve mentioned probably over a thousand times, that isn't, and never will be, a factor in my choice. I choose a charity because I believe in it after completing my due diligence. Also, I am completely aware that the upcoming deadline is so we have enough time to plan the company’s gala for the charity chosen. Finally, while I ‘appreciate’ your concern, understand that when I do decide, I will have the proper departments work with the company’s gala committee. All issues and events that require press statements, invitations, etc will be sent to the Public Relations Department as your department is the one it handles those types of items. Though I thank you for this informative meeting.” Madeleine sits fuming with her arms crossed while Liam looks over emails. “Good day, Madeleine.” She stands and mutters under her breath while slamming the study's door behind her, which is currently the most beautiful sound in Liam's ears. He drops Madeleine's novel size stack of information in the recycling bin and finishes out his day.

That evening Drake heads over to Liam’s penthouse for after work drinks. Pinching the bridge of his nose Liam relates the entire conversation to Drake that he had with the ever present poisoned thorn permanently located in everyone's side. Sipping their second glass of whiskey Drakes asks if Liam wants to look up charities now figuring two people searching will make it faster than one. Liam mulls over his friends offer, but he really just wants to relax after his day. Except it's not like he has a ton of extra time at the office and he is not sure when he will see the out of office “extra helpful” side of Drake again anytime soon, so he decides it's best to take Drake up on this offer.

Hours later Drake finally has a group to show Liam that seems to be perfect for Liam's personal and professional desires in an organization to partner with. Liam loves the idea and jots down the name and number of the charity’s Philanthropy Director so his assistant can call tomorrow and set up a meeting. He sticks the piece of paper with Riley Brooks’ work number in his messenger bag as Drake leaves and Liam heads to bed.

[whosxafraid]

Married Life: Luka/Beth

Meme: Married Life Meme Status: OPEN

leaves their dirty clothes on the floor

He’ll pick them up in a minute, he tells himself. Says they’re better off where they are because the floor isn’t as hard to get mud off of as the furniture. Because if anyone (besides the man also stripped down to his skivvies, next to him) knows the size of the fuss she’ll make about dirt in the weaving—it’s him.

So he’ll pick them up in a minute. The only problem is a minute became two became ten became an hour, became two. One bag of ice for his jaw, another for the nether bits. Because the asshole next to him fights dirty, though Luka had left himself wide open. 

But that’s not the point. The point  is….

Keys turning in a lock and there’s a second where his mind punches him twice for not having picked up the dirty clothes yet. But it’s all too late now, isn’t it? And all he can do is manage to tilt his head. Look back, squinting one eye shut so there isn’t three of her warbling on the very awkward horizon afforded him given the angle.

          “He star’ed i’!”

A glare that Riley had, had the same idea. To blame him, verses taking it. The reality is it’s both their faults but damn him if he’s going to take that sitting down. Well he is but—that’s not the point.

          “Oi’ dinna ye sh–tool. Ye be d’one d’at be drawn bloo’ firs’!”

forgets to run the dish washer

They prepare you for war. They prepare you for chaos. They prepare you for a lot of things that would make the average man curl up and cry. But what they don’t prepare you for? What they don’t prepare you for is the surprise. What they don’t prepare you for are the tears and the hugs that could last a week if you let them.  What they don’t prepare you for is coming home.

Coming home to a cat that can’t ever decide if it hates you or loves you. Coming home to cinnamon and half a dozen other floral scents you’re too damn tired to name. Coming home to water running, that’s only drowned out by the crash of a plate in the sink and running feet. That’s forgotten in the wake of a hundred pounds wet vaulting at you without doubt you’ll catch her. Coming home to her because home isn’t home without her there.

And the first thing you fucking say isn’t I love you. Isn’t I missed you. It’s your brother’s on the next flight. Because relief is a hell of a gift, and for a woman that’s loaning out more than most to the United States Armed Forces–she deserves it. 

And maybe your arms tighten a little more around her in the silence. And maybe you bury your face in her hair that hangs over her shoulder like some silk scarf. And you could fall asleep on your feet right then and there. To the scent of coconuts and cinnamon and what’s so easy to trick your mind into thinking is rain pouring out on a tin roof.

pumps gas for the car

        “Praghsanna peitril. Chomh hard is atá sé fuar. Tá mé sa gh—-”

Thunk.

Snow. Wet freezing slush. Cutting down his back like so many tiny rivers, that have a thousand little needles in place of droplets. That makes his spine want to jump right out of him and go slithering into the gas tank because it’s warmer in there. But nothing of the sort happens does it? No he holds it all in. Shoves the shudder in his shoulders down into his feet. Continues watching the price tag of living rising higher and higher and higher until finally…

Thud.

The pump cuts off. The trigger released. A little shake to knock off the access, and don’t get him started on where that makes his brain go. How the differences between a gas pump and a dick weren’t all that many. And back on its perch it goes. Screwing in the gas seal, swinging the latch shut. Refusing the receipt because nine out of ten times they don’t print anyway and–he’s already stepping around the car. 

Already paced himself. Made it look like he hadn’t a care in the world. Even with the sunshine smile on his face. Because she thinks she’s crafty does she? Going to be a wee shite just because she can. Well she’s not getting away with it this time. Because she’s her and he’s him, and every now and then he needs a tick mark or two put on his side of the score board.

So it’s all fluid, she sees it coming, has too if she knows him at all. But stands there unmoving like a deer in the head lights. And up she goes. Plucked from the ground like a princess at the end of any proper fairy tale. Carried a handful of steps (for him anyway) away from car and…deposited into the small snow bank. And the laughter follows after her.

Because her face. The sheer playfulness of it all. The happier times it reminds him of. Reminds him he can still feel that. And that it feels even better because it’s her. And maybe he doubles over a little, feet not quite so sure of themselves, stumbling marginally. At least until he hits a patch of unseen ice, and as the saying goes the bigger they are the harder they fall. But he hardly feels it at all. Flat on his back in the gas station parking lot, laughing clouds of breath into the air.

drives when they’re going somewhere

He knows what it looks like. Knows what they’re all thinking. And if he were perhaps a better man he might just admonish the lot of them. But he’s not is he? So he plays along, plays it up. All the while, keeping the wee woman that’s become the pulsing super nova center of his universe, wrapped safe and tight in his arms. Never mind the weird gate it’s causing him to undertake. Never mind it’s just as awkward for her. Because let them think what they like, just as long as it’s got nothing to do with thinking they’ve got a chance of taking her away.

And there’s slips and slides and laughter that still hasn’t died. Red noses and tinged ears. Flushed cheeks and skin that’s complaining about the cold air finding a way to make contact due to dishevaled clothes. And by the time he’s gotten her back in the car. Run round the car and started it up. They’re both trying to sniffle away the aftermath. Both reaching for the heater at once to jack it up to ridiculous; as he pulls them back out onto the highway.

It isn’t very long though before they realize they forgot the coffee. And Beth’s already fighting with her phone’s gps to find the next closest coffee spot to get their fix. Three attempts and getting him to try it later, she’s simply typing it in. Because google wasn’t built to understand accents. At least not ones as thick as both of theirs. 

            Wha'ya say Creek’s wahine stay f’ hana?

      “Manager fer some richie’s horse ranch. Gives her run a d’place when he no be d’ere which is about forty ou’ o’d’fifty-ta weeks ye get in o’year.”

            Horse ranch?

       “Aye, love.  Ashy already be pickin’ ou’ d’bes’ trails ta take ye on.”

He doesn’t need to look away from the road to know she’s beaming brighter than the sun.

rearranges the furniture

He has no idea when it started, or even that it had until he’s half done, hauling the headboard up five flights of stairs because it wouldn’t fit in the fucking elevator. And by then as the saying goes don’t stop now. So he doesn’t. His pride and his face are at stake at this point. And he’ll be damned if he loses either to that hawked nosed little—

             Lulu, where stay box'a hooks f’ pot rack?

         “One o’d boxes lef’ o’d’stove, love.”

At least he thinks so. He’d packed all this away in storage two years ago, so to be honest as little of it as there was, he can’t be quoted on where anything really is. As far as what box was packed with what anyway. But that’s neither here nor there as he moves to once again head back down the steps. A phone call that sounds a lot like Banks’ Texas, booming out of the speaker of House’s tortured phone.

Another hour if not longer, and eventually—they meet in the middle. The last item sitting stoically in the back of the truck. And he can almost feel it glaring at him. Daring him to even so much as make her twitch in her sleep and–oh no wait that’s Batman glaring at him. A silent truce in minimal gestures and stances. They’ll carry it in together.

The only problem? They both go for the same end. And there’s fifteen minutes of arguing over the best way to carry it with her on it. How best to keep it level. And why it made much more mathematical and logistical sense for Riley to go in backwards. Because you always put the bigger dude at the bottom. In case the top one slips. So you’ve got some kind of chance at both of you and the couch not turning the stairs into a slip n’ slide.

And by the time common sense weighs out there’s a hiss spoken into the air as he leans down to pick up his designated end.

          “Ja’sus, how she be livin’ wi’d ye an’ no gone mad, be o’miracle.”

falls asleep with the TV on

Go big or go home. He likes to do both. Always tries to make it a little special. Flowers from the shop in the airport. Or a plush from a port he can’t ever tell her where was. Simply shows up on her door mat, when she thinks he’s still months out. Always puts her first before even his pillow. Why? Because she’s important. She’s beautiful. And he’s spent every second missing her since he left.

But it…..always goes exactly the same way. They don’t go out. They stay in. Order take out through Uber. And spend the entire night swimming through the best noodles and burgers NYC has to offer, while binge watching everything he missed. Though he never makes it too long after dinner does he? Never quite finishes that last season because a full stomach, six months of jet-lag, and that little piece of heaven snuggled up next to him is the perfect recipe. 

The perfect recipe for making eye lids droop and his head heavy. Until eventually he doesn’t wake up when his skull meets the back of the couch. Doesn’t snap back to awareness, trying to shake off the exhaustion for another few seconds. Eventually that arm around her slackens and doesn’t move again. Eventually the remote tilts of his hand, and that one foot relaxes near parallel agianst the coffee table.

Tomorrow he’ll wake up with half a dozen kinks in his neck but it’ll be worth it. Tomorrow he’ll make it up to her with a late breakfast, and dinner that isn’t soaked in grease. Tomorrow….tomorrow is a lot of things. One of which right now is far away. So for now he enjoys the little things that have become large ones.

Things like sleeping on his girlfriends couch.Things like having her tucked up against him.Things like being at home, where he can switch off and just be him.

gets to use the bathroom first

She thinks she’s quiet. Sneaky as a mouse. And maybe she is, but he’s just wired to wake up with even slight changes. Even if he’s drifting off and back again after she’s moved beyond his awareness.

He could get up. Help with the coffee. But he doesn’t. Could throw on clothes and go scrounge up breakfast so neither of them have to cook. But he doesn’t. Selfishly he rolls over. Shifts her pillow closer and plants his face in it. Pulls the covers up over his head, and breathes it all in. 

Thinks about taking finally taking her on a proper vacation. They both need it, and she deserves it. And that…that leads to other things. Things that are small and square and hidden for safe keeping in a loose slat he’d found in the flooring under the bed. Which makes the cogs start turning because it’s a big deal. And it’s got to be just right.

And somewhere beneath multi-colored cotton there’s a sleepy smile pressed into her pillow, before he’s gone again. Lost to the quiet blankness of non-existent dreams. And honestly? He doesn’t stir a muscle when she slips out of the bedroom and down the hall.

But it’s okay. Because later? The bathroom will still smell like her. At least until that bottle of man is cracked open.

decides the temperature for the ac/heater

Seventy-five. Loses her shoes.

Eighty. Gets him a sweater landing on his head.

Eighty-three. Socks get eaten by the couch.

Eighty-six. A shirt becomes a wadded up pillow.

Ninety. There goes the skirt in a puddle on the floor.

Ninety-five…that curved back end is getting followed to the bed room. Because leather sticks and cotton breathes.

sets up holiday decorations

Things you miss.

Fighting with fake cobwebs, to make them just right. Spending an egregious amount of green on candy that will mostly go uneaten by the tricksters and treaters that come to call.

Staring at the turkey in the oven. Still trying to work out why this is a Thanksgiving food and not a Christmas one. Because where you’re from Thanksgiving hadn’t been a thing. Appreciating the stuffing though because okay yes, they did manage to upgrade that.

Rockefeller center squeezed into one little loft apartment. He can almost feel the warmth of it all in the photo. Smell the Christmas biscuits, hear the records playing in the background. Taste the snow that still lingers on the edges of you for hours after coming inside.

The horrendously stereotypical scene makes him laugh. But there’s something not at all mocking about it. Because it’s his two favorite people in the world caught inside one small five by eleven. The radiance that Beth always is, and the little boy that really wasn’t so little anymore.

Each one is stuck to the underside of House’s bed. Each one cherished and looked after. And when it’s time to go home. Where the pictures become people, they’ll be tucked away in that box he keeps under his nightstand. Where every other moment he’s missed lies ready to remind him–why he does what he does. Why he leaves. Why he pays the price of not being in their lives more.

Because soldiers don’t fight because they hate what’s in front of them, they fight because they love what’s behind him. And all the missed moments too.

leaves the lights on

Night lights. They never were a thing in his house. Save the light over the sink that was always on. Because his mother had said the fair folk wouldn’t come. That if you left the lights on, they would think you awake. So the O’Rian children had grown up with no fear of the dark. No sense of it being evil. Because darkness meant the fair folk would come. And how could that be a bad thing?

But he’s too old to believe in that sort of thing anymore. Growing up, knowledge, being a SEAL; they’d all bled the fantastical out him. Or at least he’d thought so until he’d met her. When she’d either knowingly or unknowingly rekindled that little light in him. Reminding him the magic was still there, he’d just chose to stop seeing it.

So he goes to Home Depot. But they’re just not–so the bench outside the store it is. Asking the almighty google for help. And when that doesn’t work? He makes a long distance phone call. Even if it’s past reasonable calling hours there. Because the receiver isn’t going to care. And like clock work she picks up on the second and a half ring.

Twenty minutes later, he back inside the store. Buying battery powered light clusters, and spray adhesive. Then it’s off to the dollar store for jars and glitter and a can of spray paint. Back to his place. Digging up yesterdays newspaper and three hours later…

A jar of lit glitter is standing vigil in every room. And Luka? He’s still picking silver and gold out of his hair and beard and out from under his nails for weeks afterward.

uses the bathroom with the door open

Privacy. He’d never had it growing up, so there was little to no adjustment required when he hit basic. Let alone everything else that followed after it. So he really…the first time it’d happened, had been after. And she’d already seen it all anyway. No harm no foul. Especially considering her vocation. She knew how it all worked to begin with.

But there’s the little reasons too. The way she likes to pretend it’s not happening. The way the conversation between them doesn’t have to ebb or pause because body functions are a thing. And honestly it’s not like it takes ages to piss. Ten seconds give or take a little, shake, flush, wash, done. It’s just easier with not having to worry with the door.

           “Ye bro’der an’ ta wee lad, be comin’ fer dinner, aye? We just be bringin’ i’ up d’en. S’jus’ o’weeken’, love. D’ink he’ll live.”

fixes the plumbing (or calls the plumber)

It’s four am. He should have been asleep seven hours ago. First bells in an hour. But he’s gone longer without sleep. He’ll be fine. By four thirty he’s hung up with the plumber. They’ll be there in three hours. He sends her a text to let her know, before he shifts gears entirely. Puts the SEAL back on and cuts into his reserves.

But even the seven mile run down the beach doesn’t push the worry away.  Doesn’t stop the cogs from turning about what can be done to change things. To put her in a better position. A better place where things aren’t going to break down on her every third week of the month. And if something does break, all she has to do is make a phone call. They’ll fix it. No hassle. 

But it’s not as simple as moving a few bits of furniture. Trading one key for another one. No it’s way more complicated. Because she has a thinks himself a knight for a brother, and one of God Almighty’s literal mouth pieces for a best friend. So the simple question of asking your girlfriend to move in with you, becomes very much not simple. And round and round and round it goes in his head.

Until somewhere between mess and his head hitting the pillow a word of advice comes from the most—unexpected of places.

Jus’ ask ‘er ta marry ya already, dumbass. Peej’ll have a stroke sure but at least ya won’t have the lord’s m’shepard, up ya ass for ya livin’ together.

And maybe he lays there staring a bit dumbfounded at Creek for a long minute. Because it’s honestly the last piece of advice Luka would have ever thought Mister-I-Don’t-Believe-In-Marriage would suggest. Still it’s a thought. A real viable one. And that box under the floorboards beneath his bed back home, is getting pretty full. Maybe he’s got just enough to pull it off. Luck with him of course that she says yes.

[wordsparks]

An Attempt to Explain My WIPs (Warning: GIF Heavy)

Music Land Maestress

A magical girl story, only set in England, with high school girls (and one ten year old to represent magical girl teams usually having a younger member...is that an actual trope? I don't know).

Part Sailor Moon

(Cause it's my fave mahou shoujo show & also cause what mahou shoujo story these days isn't inspired by it?)

With combat more of the PreCure sort (where there's physical combat involved not just magical attacks)

+ Some of the "save a fantasy world" aspects of my favorite CLAMP work, Magic Knight Rayearth

+ The "human mentors instead of animal mascots" idea and the idea that the girls' mission is really the mentors', both from Tokyo Mew Mew. (Only the mentors in my story are from a magical land and are a magical swordsman and a young magical prodigy respectively). The Monsters-of-The-Day are also possibly inspired by TMM's Chimera Anima, not sure though.

+ other things, including music.

***

The CYA Files

The seed of this dates back to my high school years, around 2002-2003, though I didn't start writing a proper MS till 2-3 years ago. Thus it comes out of my "writing really preachy things" period, back when I was still largely in my sheltered Christian bubble. Because of this, my dislike for superhero movies (I'd seen the 2002 Spiderman and a few others and wasn't that into them; I'm still not really THAT into them, though that might be cause I've never been into Marvel & DC Comics really...though now that I'm watching and very much enjoying Supergirl that might change), and maybe some guilt over the very-X-Men-inspired superhero comic "Lightning Girl" I'd written, I came up with this story with people who save future London using powered suits and their spiritual gifts. "Christian Superheroes," basically. When I work on it for NaNoWriMo this year I may have to reevaluate it to see if it's too preachy or not.

Anyway, this novel was inspired by two things mostly:

Superheroes

And mecha

(Not Eva-style specifically, but at the time I came up with the story, I think NGE was the only mecha series I'd seen, so no doubt it had an influence)

***

Nukata: A Novel

My NaNo novel last year (which won! yay!) and the one I'm working on right now. It's a historical romance about Nukata no Ôkimi, a real-life princess from 7th-century Japan who also became one of Japan's first lyric poets of note, and the love triangle she is thought to have had with Emperors Tenji and Temmu. But aside from that it's also a story about maintaining your dignity in a strange world, and about a girl who wants respect for her mind more than for her body. Nukata, Tenji, and Temmu are the main characters, along with Tenji's good friend and chief advisor Nakatomi no Kamatari, who was the ancestor of the famous Fujiwara clan that was the power behind the throne in Japan for centuries (shortly before Kamatari's death, Tenji granted him the family name Fujiwara).

Not much has been written about Nukata in English, and only 9 of her poems (maybe 11 if you count ones attributed to others but thought to be hers) survive, all by way of an 8th-century anthology called the Man'yôshû. I first encountered Nukata in my Brit Lit 1 class believe it or not. My degree program had a global focus, so every class had to have a global element, and thus this class included reading medieval Chinese and Japanese poetry as part of that. The poem we read was Poem 16, her poem comparing spring and autumn leaves, which is probably her most famous.

Nukata is still known in Japan today. There is a Takarazuka play about her (Akane Sasu Murasaki no Hana) and she is briefly mentioned in episode 12 of the anime Chihayafuru.

Not sure of the influences here since research basically wrote the plot, but I'd say Arthur Golden's Memoirs of a Geisha and Lisa See's Snow Flower and the Secret Fan were probably influences, even though they are written about later eras.

This is also my first straight-up historical fiction novel (my other attempt was time travel) and my first romance. (I tend to avoid romances in my work because I've never dated, so I don't feel qualified to be writing romance...also it's a genre I really don't read). So kinda nervous but trying my best.

***

The Case of The Canterbury Colony Ship

My first sci-fi mystery, and the beginning of a series of probably 4 books (one for each year the heroines are in university). My Camp NaNo April 2017 winning novel (yay!). Also an attempt to explore my own autism, since the heroine, like me, has Asperger's, and subtly vent frustrations I have about autism (the seeming lack of treatment for autistic adults in the U.S. and a lack of awareness of girls with autism - mind you these are based on my own knowledge and experience only). She forms a mystery-solving club with a neurotypical policeman's daughter whose father wants her to go into law enforcement but who secretly loves ancient lit, a science whiz girl with Social Anxiety Disorder, and a former scholar athlete who got too into partying and drugs and is now trying to rebuild her life after checking herself into rehab for a year. She gets tired of the mundane cases they get and wants something better, which happens when they get involved with a case baffling the police - the mysterious disappearance of the passengers and crew of a generation ship.

It's kinda the classic "amateurs helping out police/law enforcement agency who might not like them but needs them" trope that has been popular on TV of late via shows like Fringe, Psych, Castle, Sherlock, its American cousin Elementary, Scorpion, Alphas, and most recently Blindspot.

But the series has a decidedly literary bent, in case the title didn't tip you off. Protagonist Sophie Hughes started her life in a writing project I did in Brit Lit 1 where we were supposed to adapt one of the texts we read into a creative writing piece. I chose The Canterbury Tales. Due to page limits, I only wrote the end. Since then, the story and Sophie have evolved into what I have today.

This may also end up being a diverse book. Being white and having had very little experience of POCs growing up, my novels don't tend to have POC characters. But in this one, I ended up making Paige (the girl with SAD) black kinda randomly when doing her character sheet, and Sophie ended up becoming half-Mexican (probably cause I made her be from Miami, and also my mom was watching Jane The Virgin at the time...and also cause I needed some kind of hearty soup Sophie could cook in a dorm room, and my first thought was posole, cause I've seen my Hispanic coworkers eat it a lot). I guess it's diverse in terms of not everyone being neurotypical too (maybe). Can someone who actually understands this whole #WeNeedDiverseBooks thing explain to me how this all works?

So it has that "amateurs helping out police/law enforcement agency who might not like them but needs them" trope (though you could probably replace “law enforcement agency” with “FBI” cause it always seems to be the FBI) but has more of a literary bent. The main inspirations for the literary bent are the awesome TNT show The Librarians (the movies it’s a spin-off of are great too, especially if you want to see how Flynn started out) and the anime Read or Die: The TV, which I was introduced to by my junior college anime club around 2003, shortly before it got licensed here. (The manga version, R.O.D.: Read or Dream, as well as the anime and manga versions of the OAV that stars Yomiko Readman, are also available in English).

(ROD gif from @nothingforkings)

***

The Stars Above Us

This was my NaNo novel 2 years ago, and the first one where I wrote a novel especially for NaNo, rather than using NaNo as an excuse to make progress on an existing work. It’s set in the 3200′s and is about a girl named Katia Sewick who is living a miserable, apathetic, lonely life in Brooklyn and doesn’t picture it getting any better...and then she inherits a space station from her grandfather. She doesn’t know the first thing about running a space station, but she decides to at least go check it out. The staff does not accept her immediately, making her prove herself before she can take command. Then, shortly after she does that, a biological threat is discovered onboard that could kill everyone if not dealt with.

I’m not really sure how it will end, but with everyone living at any rate. Also, Katia will find meaning for her life at last.

This novel actually originated from a prompt in a writing prompts book (“Upon inheriting a working space station from her grandfather, a woman tries to make it run smoothly”), so it didn’t really have inspiration in that sense. The title came about cause someone in my NaNo group said she usually looked to Shakespeare for title ideas. (The quote I used for this title is from King Lear: “It is the stars,/The stars above us, govern our conditions." I’m not sure it fits the book, but it was the only Shakespeare quote I could find that talked about stars).

The biological threat plot is, I think, partially inspired by this kinda obscure anime movie from the ‘80s, They Were Eleven. They released it here in the U.S. on subtitled VHS in the early ‘90s, but a dub also exists. The sub is what I have seen. It’s about these young space cadets whose final test for space academy is to survive for a specified number of days on an abandoned spaceship, with no contact or involvement from outside. There are supposed to be 10 in their group, but when they arrive on the ship, they find there are 11 of them -- and no one is certain who the intruder is. Meanwhile, they discover some weird plant on the ship that makes people ill, among other things.

I also did a fair amount of research about space stations, including designs that have been proposed over the years.

This book also owes a debt to Star Trek (mostly TOS cause that’s the generation I’m most familiar with, having seen a number of the TOS movies even if I have yet to see the TV show) because I wasn’t sure how to structure the station crew (like what sort of crewmembers you would need) and ended up using the TOS crew as a model.

***

Tales of Walden

My high fantasy universe, currently consisting of short stories and poems and a work in progress since 2005. I tried to write a novel in this universe, but never finished it.

I’m still trying to find a long-term goal for this universe; for now I just write stories or poems for it when I feel like it (or like when I did it for Camp NaNo and Story-a-Day in May).

As for inspirations, Lord of the Rings is a huge one.

I’m not going to lie, this universe was very influenced by Tolkien. But then what epic fantasy these days isn’t?

Narnia - the first fantasy series I was ever exposed to - has an influence here too though.

(Narnia GIF from Giphy)

***

Other WIPs

I have some minor WIPs too.

Fairy*Net and Fairy*Radio, a duo of comics I drew art for for NaNoMangO 2015

Some unfinished stories from Story-A-Day 2015

A couple story ideas from Story-A-Day 2015 I want to develop further: one about using biohacking to become pop idols, and another about two Asian idols who are forbidden to be together cause of the “no boyfriends” clause in many female Asian idols’ contracts. (The latter was inspired by this list; I also wrote a short story about sasaeng inspired by this list).

A LOT of fanfic ideas that aren’t yet written (so I guess they’re not WIPs yet, except for the Osaka Naru one, which I have partially written).

Two huge Doctor Who fanfic projects: “The Companion’s Diary of Alyson ‘Alys’ Reed,” a diary-style fanfic about the adventures of a couple OC Companions with Eleven, and “The Linguist’s Story,” a mostly Classic Who-set group of stories about an OC Time Lady.

**

Hope you liked this post!

[shenanigumi]

Actual First Impressions: HakuMyu LIVE 2, Act 1!

Also contains some of Act 2 for reasons. Prepare for a LOT of rapid-fire half-asleep chocolate-high thoughts, consolidated into a single super-long text post to avoid spamming and/or oversqueeing.  Good luck disentangling my observations from my emotions long enough to make any sense of either…

Atsuku Ikiro => SAMURAI Future => Yaisa! Yaisa! Yaisa! – I love this song! It’s catchy as hell and everyone gets a verse and—WAIT IS THAT SAMURAI FUTURE?!?! They’re actually quoting music from the original run?!?! Oh hey it’s Yaisa except oh my god this instrumentation is fabulous. Pieces with traditional instruments and modern beats (or really any genre of music not typically set to a modern beat) is my not-so-secret weakness. That’s why electro swing is my favorite musical genre. AAAAHHHH THIS IS SO BEAUTIFULLY ARRANGED

Sidenote: The original cast can hold their own during solos, but get them all together and they’re nothing super-special. Conversely, the new cast sounds AMAZING all together, but with a few exceptions, solos seem to be their weak points. I’m still severely biased toward the original cast in most cases, but I won’t deny that I ADORE the group numbers with the new cast.

[interlude] – Huh, the audience is even more involved than usual… must be an unwritten rule of HakuMyu that Souji is a total attentionwhore. Is that Kazama and Shiranui in the background? Are they gonna reuse the “where are they” gag from the first LIVE? Oh wait. Oh wait… What the hell is happening? What are they giving Kazama, and why? Is that pocky, or something? No, that can’t be pocky; it’s too thick. But it is edible, judging from the fact that Shiranui is feeding it to him jfc please you two or else I’m going to start headcanon-ing that Shiranui hits on Kazama to make him uncomfortable whenever he steps out of line

Okita’s song (???) – …oh thank god another musical number to break up all the confusion and awkwardness. Except I don’t really recognize this? Either it’s new or it’s from Reimeiroku since that’s the only one to which I paid like, negative attention, since I hadn’t even seen the anime and had no connection to most of the actors and. yeah. nice shoutout to his part in “SAMURAI Future”, I guess, but made somewhat less awesome by the fact that they already performed the real thing. also oh Souji you just have to blow the audience a kiss at the end too, you know you’re the favorite. ugh. insufferable child.

[SKIPPING AHEAD TO] Hisuru Hana – …my mom’s watching this with me and she really doesn’t care about most of these guys, so I’m gonna see if I can’t find Kazama to make it worth her while till she goes to bed… oh hey that’s Kazama in a demon mask isn’t it. OH HEY THAT’S HISURU HANA ISN’T IT. OH HEY THEY’RE BRINGING IN MORE SONGS FROM THE ORIGINAL RUN. OH HEY HE SOUNDS A LITTLE ROUGHER THAN USUAL AND HIS MOVEMENTS AREN’T QUITE AS SMOOTH AS IN HIS OWN MUSICAL BUT GOD DAMN.

Harada’s song (Shinsengumi Kitan) – HOLY FUCKING SHIT HARADA AND CHIZURU ARE CUTE TOGETHER HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD HE’S LIKE 50 MILES TALLER THAN SHE IS AND HE’S CARRYING HER AND HE’S DANCING WITH HER OH MY GOD HIS SONG IS LONGER NOW AND THEY’RE SO FUCKING ADORABLE THANK GODS HARADA IS GETTING A MUSICAL YES PLEASE ALSO WAY TO SUBSTANTIATE MY BULLSHIT SUPPOSITIONS THAT THEY’RE A THING IN SHINSENGUMI KITAN

[Interlude] – lolol hey it’s the idiot trio what if they do “Asonde Bakka Jyanai Ze!”?! …nah Harada already had some time in the spotlight but… wait, do Nagakura and Heisuke have any songs, just the two of them…?

Jiyū ni Narero Basho – YES, YES THEY DO! ANOTHER FAMILIAR TUNE!! One of the ones I always forget I love, too. Heisuke—good job, kid. You may not be Ikeda Junya, but I’ll allow it. Nagakura, I am thoroughly unimpressed with your voice thus far. I need to do a comparison gifset between Toudou-hen and this choreography tbfh, so much of it is a direct parallel. oh hey Heisuke’s stomach is growling!! hahaha wouldn’t it be funny if they used that to transition into—

HUNGRY GUYS => mealtime number (Shinsengumi Kitan) – FUCK YESSSS THEY’RE DOING IT!!! I LOVE THIS NUMBER OMG YES oh too bad they didn’t put the fish gag in though. Wait, did they rip this out of “Twist and Shout” by the Beatles? Oh no that’s just the transition into the roughly equivalent number from Shinsengumi Kitan. Damn they sound good together.

[Interlude] – GOD DAMN IT YOU TWO YOU ARE LITERALLY GOING TO MAKE ME SHIP RYUNOSUKE/CHIZURU JUST BECAUSE OF THIS SCENE JFC YOU’RE BOTH SO GODDAMN ADORKABLE but my mom doesn’t really care too much about Chizuru or most ships so let’s just keep right on going

[SKIPPING AHEAD WAY TOO FAST TO]—

Me: *MAKES LOUD AND SUDDEN GROANING NOISE* Mother: [annoyed] What?! Me: SHIRTLESS SHIRANUIIII Mother: …Oh.

[GOING BACK TO] the obvious femservice scene (Shinsengumi Kitan) – [here are the few semi-coherent thoughts I can remember] – fuck off Okita with your stupid suggestive water bucket – I guess at least he gets to participate this time? – please hit him with that fan Yamazaki – HOLY FUCKING SHIT IT’S SHIRTLESS SHIRANUI – HOLY SHIT – HOLY SHIT – OH MY GOD – TAKE ME NOW – oh hey also Ryunosuke who also has a literal six-pack but has to appear weak for the sake of characterization – SHIRANUI WHY ARE YOU FEELING UP HARADA – PLEASE DON’T TEMPT ME TO SHIP YOU TWO EVEN MORE UNIRONICALLY – CAMERA PLEASE – CAMERA – ZOOM IN ON SHIRANUI – PLEASE – YOU KNOW HE’S A GOOD DANCER I WANT TO SEE HIM DO THE THING – I WONDER IF HE SPECIFICALLY ASKED TO BE INCLUDED THIS TIME AROUND? – HOLY FUCK HOW IS HE JUST KINDA STAYING UPSIDE-DOWN THERE

[Interlude] – HE’S JUST CASUALLY DOING CRUNCHES AS KAZAMA ARRIVES ON THE SCENE – OF COURSE – PLEASE KAZAMA TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES – YOUR SHIRT – WHATEVER – I DON’T CARE – oh hey a watermelon ball, I guess that’s the new equivalent of the badminton scene? – NO SHIRANUI DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON – KAZAMA PLEASE – SHIRANUI PLEASE – god damn it. [ladies and gents, my mother, voicing my scrambled thoughts – “I was kinda hoping it’d go the other way, that Kazama might…”] oh shit Amagiri’s missing again, isn’t he? Damn it, as much as I love that gag, I liked Naoya-san. Too bad he wasn’t around. But they’re probably not going to do Oni no Matsuei again, so… what next…?

Oni no Chikara – FUCK YES IT’S ANOTHER OF MY FAVORITES YES YES YES!!! wait, but if Amagiri isn’t here, why do I hear his theme—? Oh, I guess they’re just skipping it. never mind… oh and here’s Serizawa but at this point I’m really just interested in Kazama because my mom has to go to bed so

[SKIPPING AHEAD TO] Kazama’s new medley – aaaaaaaa exactly what I was looking for. Suzuki!Kazama in western wear. oh my fuck HOW can one person be so perfect. how. just. how. is it me or did they make his clothes even more form-fitting and sexier—? oh gods this is the intro to his musical!! and his singing is even more on point!!! oh shit I love that. oh hey now it’s his fight with Nagakura from Shinsengumi Kitan and they cut out his gorgeous wavering endnote on that one but whatever still a good theme. and—wait, they ARE doing Oni no Matsuei! that’s a throwback if ever I’ve seen one, but I am 100% all for more Shiranui so whatever. and—wait, “Kyōtō ~ Kyoran no Shi”? With half of Heisuke’s lines cut out? At least they slowed it down somewhat so the poor man can actually sing. And oh shit he was fighting Kodo? oh that explains why the end of “Sendai-jou no Tatakai” is happening now. and… oh gods now we’re at the end of “Bushi Toshite Ikiru Tame ni” and Hashimoto-san I love you dearly but did anyone tell you what notes to sing? NO, MOTHER, MATSUDA RYO WAS A BETTER SAITO BY A LONG SHOT, DON’T YOU DARE INSINUATE THAT HE WAS EVEN REMOTELY OFF-KEY. and ah good they’re ending it on the same set of notes, literally, as his first medley. nice way to tie it all together. good night mother

[GOING BACK TO] Saito’s song (???) – ah yes now I can record my reactions actually live instead of having to remember all that because my mother has gone to bed and I don’t mind interrupting myself. anyway this number is cool, but again, I don’t recognize it at all. did they hide it somewhere in Reimeiroku? but I like the shoutout to the instrumentation on “Don’t Forget My Style”. ok I can hear his Reimeiroku leitmotif now, so is this like, a small medley? also ok I know how childish and coincidental this is but I love that the last two lines rhyme like yessss

Hijikata’s song (???) – this kinda sounds familiar, probably from Reimeiroku. still never got the hang of Gaku-san as Hijikata, though; the notes get away from him sometimes, more often than the others I’ve heard. ya know, not that I could ever hope to sing any better while I’m doing that much but I’ve seen better Hijikatas in my day *adjusts hipster glasses*

[RELUCTANTLY SKIPPING PAST “HISURU HANA” ET AL TO] Chizuru’s song (Shinsengumi Kitan) => Ryūnosuke no Kaiko – Okay, I actually really like Chizuru’s little leitmotif, and she really does have a wonderful voice. Second or third favorite Chizuru for sure, after Tanoue Marina and tied with Yamamoto Sayaka. ooooh someone’s in loooove though, what with that Hijikata action in the background~ and OH YES THIS IS INDEED THE SONG I THOUGHT IT WAS WHEN I WAS FAST-FORWARDINGGGG oh goodness I love Ryunosuke’s little aria so much. plus the added percussion is really nice, gives it a sense of moving forward while retaining its prettiness—OH THEY ADDED MORE TO IT! and it’s so well staged! and why isn’t this man more on my butai radar I need more Shiramata Atsushi in my life. oh hey Yamazaki whatcha doing here? oh just running away I guess. it’s cool. see ya later?

[VERY RELUCTANTLY SKIPPING PAST MUSCLE SCENE ET AL TO] Gōgan Fuson’na Shi – I kinda love Serizawa? even though I also really hate him? I just feel like Kubodera Akira has a really awesome time playing the role, I mean, getting the audience involved and everything. It’s kinda cute in a super-twisted way, considering he’s busy burning everything to the ground and disrespecting everyone under the sun. seems like I have this problem with a lot of characters given that Kazama is much the same. actual favorite character, possibly actual least favorite person.

[Interlude] – here comes Kodo and… uh… THEY’RE SAYING ONE ANOTHER’S NAMES LIKE LOVERS? CRACKSHIP CONFIRMED? is there a word for pantomime that isn’t necessarily silent because I see a lot of that in butai and it’s really amazing (edit: I have since realized that pantomime is exactly the word I am looking for) and they’re physically echoing one another’s movements like a villainous courtship dance and OH MY GOD THAT HIGH FIVE AND EVIL LAUGHTER WAS REALLY CUTE A+ BROMANCE I SUPPORT THIS 100% also Kodo’s bald cap is treating him decently now

Hen Wakamizu no Chikara => Horobi no Sakebi – you cannot hope to beat Edogawa Manji in a weird-off. He is simply the best there is. What is even going on right now. He’s involving the audience in his villainous schemes and you know that pantomime thing, he’s the best at gesticulating, he really is, he’s so underrated and I have such a high respect for him and… oh, Chizuru hasn’t gotten over her emote-face, I see, and—WAIT WHAT THE FUCK. KODO-SAN WHAT ARE YOU WEARING AND HOW CAN YOU LOOK SO SERIOUS. HOW ARE THEY PLAYING THIS TOTALLY STRAIGHT WHEN HE LOOKS SO RIDICULOUS. ok maybe “respect” was the wrong word. In fact, I think I’ll just have Suzuki Shogo summarize the rest of this scene for me (since this is only the second most ridiculous Edogawa-san has looked while in-character):

Shinsengu Tanjō => Bushi no Michi ~ Ima, Kakugo no Toki [3] => Shinsengu no Michi [1] => opening track (Shinsengumi Kitan)? – ah good they’re including this. perfect!! one of their better chorus numbers, and that’s saying something—but wait—no—they’re cutting out too much of it! and now Kondou is singing Serizawa’s part?? what is this. oh but there’s Serizawa singing his beautiful little piece that I love way too much given his character. (lord help me I think I might actually understand why Ryunosuke lets him kick him around so much; the man is fascinating.) ok but all masochism aside, time to switch to sadism, since it looks like they’re gonna be killing him soon enough. and it’s well-staged, too; I love it when they do the slow-mo thing. also, yes, Ryunosuke, you can in fact sing him sweetly to sleep, ignore the fact that he’s literally trying to kill you and everyone around you. also I guess Serizawa had a semi-literal ‘Kick the Dog’ moment there huehue. and oh wow that silence was powerful. I seem to remember that being a thing in Reimeiroku too…?

[Interlude] – oh hey it’s Yamazaki. oh hey Ryunosuke that little scuttle backward you did there was adorable. oh hey you two are in really close range. oh fuck am I starting to ship this in the same way I ship Harada and Shiranui…? oh fuck. NO RYUNOSUKE BBY DON’T CRY but also thank you for distracting me from my newfound ship doubt.

Shinsengu no Michi [2] => Yaisa! Yaisa! Yaisa! (original?) – YES MORE YAMAZAKI ACTION BUT NO MORE YAMAZAKI DEATH WHY IS THIS HAPPENING but hey he’s okay now because of the Power of Chorus™ bringing Yaisa! back into the equation. I wonder whether it takes extra effort to sing different words to the same tune? because there’s a lot of that throughout the musicals, come to think of it.

INTERMISSION – HOLY SHIT IT’S YAZAKI MOTHERFUCKING HIROSHI AS A GUEST STAR BUT I REALLY NEED TO GO TO BED SO I’M GONNA HAVE TO SPLIT POSTS HERE AND HOPE YOU STICK AROUND LONG ENOUGH TO HEAR ABOUT ACT 2. GOOD NIGHT EVERYBODY. it’s just as well, I can feel my thoughts getting less and less coherent eheh

Sidenote: …this “literal first impressions” thing was kinda what I was initially trying to do with the much longer HakuMyu Shinsengumi Kitan review, but this is easier for me since it’s just getting all my thoughts down and out instead of trying to do anything even remotely constructive or clever with them. Hope you enjoyed anyway!