#except I ! I don't even know for sure what all of these are and I'm not NECESSARILY /any/ of them at all and

[ladyloveandjustice]

I mean, Legend of Lattes did have a conflict, her coffee place straight up burned down? It wasn't a major focus for most of the book but it happened.

I've only read a few cozy fantasy things, and didn't find a few of them super memorable myself, but the definition of cozy fantasy is pretty broad from what I've seen. Emily Wilde is categorized as that and it is FULL of conflict and action and has some great and memorable characters.

But people have always liked stuff that's low tension/stakes/fluffy. See coffee shop aus in fanfic, or fanfic tagged fluff. See slice of life anime where characters are just hanging out. It's not a new thing. People have always wanted to watch or read things that just give cozy vibes and allow them to hang out with characters. The book industry realizing there was a market for that was inevitable. If it's not for you, it's not for you, but it's obviously for someone or it wouldn't be doing well.

I also think this is a good example of how condescending we can get when talking about a genre we don't like. Rather than say "it's not for me, I don't find the characters memorable and want better stakes, maybe there should be more variety" (which was more where OP was at) it has to be somehow bad for people to read it and write it. like...

And so sometimes it feels impossibly challenging to write any book except one where nothing bad happens and nothing is in danger and nobody is really bothered or worried about anything and everything is mostly fine and there aren't any major setbacks…..

That is a hell of a condescending assumption to make about those writers. Jesus. I'm a professional author too, but I would not want to make these assumptions about my fellow writers.You don't know if they're doing it because it's easy, or if they're doing it because they felt there was a need for it, or it was just an idea they liked writing. You don't like it, great. That doesn't mean those writers are slacking off or doing something wrong somehow. You don't know that they don't also write books with tension and conflict. I feel like most of them probably have, actually. Assuming they sat down and thought "omg this will be easy I'm so lazy" is just...do you make the same assumption about romance writers? It can get pretty formulaic, but that doesn't mean it's easy to write. Have you tried to write a cozy fantasy and sell it and make it do well? If not, I don't think you should talk about how easy it is.

But that leaves readers cold.

I mean not all readers obviously, since it wouldn't be doing well or selling well?

And frankly, I don't feel like it does much of anything to nourish either our souls or theirs.

It feels like eating a bag of potato chips for dinner instead of going to the effort of even just heating up a frozen dinner that has a vegetable in it.

Why does reading HAVE to "nourish your soul", whatever that means? What's wrong with eating a bag of potato chips? You teach college, so I wonder if you've ever run into a colleague who thinks this way about regular fantasy and sci-fi. Where they think that genre fiction is inherently more disposable and less challenging than literary fiction. I've sure as hell run into those professors, that look down on readers and writers of "commercial fiction", and I've seen the bad impact they have on their students. Do you agree with them? Because you're sounding a lot like them right now. This is the exactly the kind of argument they'd make.

You don't know whether these people don't also read books with more stakes or a variety of genres as well. Low effort reading has it's place, it just maybe shouldn't be the only thing you read if you want to actually experience the breadth of literature.

And I see this a lot in the book community, but dissing the stuff people are into and saying they need to challenge themselves more or they won't be smart like you (I see this with YA a lot too) is not going to convince them. It frames reading as a chore, and people often don't like doing chores in a life full of them, and reading is a hobby for a lot of people. Rather that say "you need to read this to better your mind" say what can be interesting or intriguing about these books that are more challenging, what kind of cool things you can get from them. Sometimes it seems to me like the point of these arguments is to feel superior, rather than actually convince people.

Nothing's wrong with reading low effort books or watch low effort shows--it's when say, a YA reader says books are inherently flawed if they don't spell things out like YA sometimes does or has more challenging themes. Or a cozy fantasy reader acting like all books should be cozy fantasy and books with tension are bad. Those are the people that ruin the discourse. But, doing the inverse isn't any better.

idk, man. I've taught university classes about this shit, but what do I know.

I teach grad school classes on writing, (I don't like to pull that card, since it's not like teachers can't have flawed ideas about their subject but since we're here) and have taught similar lessons. Yet, here's what I think I do know: telling students the genre they write is wrong is not something a teacher should do. Those literary fiction professors love doing that, and I'm not them.

As a teacher with a variety of students in a variety of genres, I have to read genres I don't like all the time--god I hate most 'dark romance' and man do I not get or like omegaverse, but I sure as hell had to read both. But just because I don't like them doesn't mean they're worthless, or there isn't a market for them, or it's wrong to write them. So I put those feelings aside, think about what kind of help the student needs to be successful in their chosen genre, and what the audience would want, because that will help them improve. (though I do try to hint if something seems like, incredibly sexist, that maybe we should reconsider that, or look at it from all angles and decide if it's something the story needs). And at the same time, I do teach them basic lessons on how to structure a story, and what's good about conflict, stakes, etc.

But I wouldn't tell any of them they're wrong for writing cozy fantasy even if it's not always my cup of tea, because there is a market for it, and I want them to do well at it and do what they love. What pays the bills pays them, and if you actually like what you do, that's also important. Writers do need to challenge themselves, which is why I encourage students to be open minded about all genres, try out writing them, try writing different POVs, different stuff even if they don't publish it, because that can only help them get better at what they do. But if what they publish is cozy fantasy, hey, it gets them good money and they like doing it, that's more than I can say for most jobs.

Cozy Fantasy and Why It Doesn't Work

I think I am among many who feel like they should love cozy fantasy and have found it an incredibly lacking genre.

This newly branded "cozy fantasy" genre that has taken readers by storm since 2020 and while it is new that books are now marketed as cozy, the genre itself isn't new. Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a great example of the genre before it was labeled and also how to make it work.

Cozy fantasy is defined by many as fantasy with low stakes. Fantasy aesthetic but less sword fights. On paper, it sounds great. But the execution has been less than stellar for readers like me. The lack of physical stakes has also impacted the emotional stakes of these books, creating forgettable characters with boring problems. As a romance reader, I find this frustrating. Romance is known for being a predictable and formulaic genre, the now defunct Romance Writers of America defined romances as needing happy endings, a term romances have continued to follow. Yet these romance texts manage to have low physical stakes (how to date your neighbor, how to confront your toxic friends, etc) while still maintaining high personal stakes that keep readers invested and begging for more. So I was initially confused why cozy fantasy authors struggle to write texts that connect to readers like me.

I think I have found the answer which is the genre is just here for vibes. It is all about aesthetic, not even worldbuilding that fantasy is known for as most cozy fantasy I read have so many problems as soon as you ask one question. It is hard to acknowledge that a genre that is pitched to work for readers like me doesn't work for many of us. Especially because occasionally there is one that works beautifully to my taste.

I often say my favorite cozy fantasies that are more contemporary are short and visual, which I plays into the idea of the genre being an aesthetic. The Bakery Dragon by Devin Elle Kurtz is a good example because it is a simple story that is given the perfect amount of pages and gorgeous visuals without dragging on when the message is very clear and easy to understand. Books like The Phoenix Keeper and Legends and Lattes have absolutely nothing for me, their very clear message hitting the reader over and over so the readers don't miss it and focusing on the aesthetic of worldbuilding rather than the reality of the fantastic elements within the world.

I guess my point is. . . I realize this genre isn't for me since I have realized it is more of an aesthetic than anything. .. .but I want it to be. Should I let it go and put my efforts elsewhere? Or should I keep exploring this new trend and find the hidden gems?

[homunculus-argument]

Do you have any advice for a scared and VERY behind-on-learning-adult-things 20-year-old who's trying really damn hard and yet nothing ever seems to be working?

You're not behind, you've just been spending your time learning things and skills that everyone else hasn't needed to learn. There's no deadline on learning adult skills, all the rules are made up even though you know you're still expected to know and follow them.

One thing you should know is that it's not against the rules to be scared or admit that you don't know things. The people who taught you otherwise were wrong. It's better to just tell people "I'm sorry, I have no idea how these things are supposed to be done, and I'm a bit scared" than to try to manage on your own. People are more likely to be kind and understanding if they can see that you're trying, and just not sure what you're supposed to do, than if they see you just be incompetent for no apparent reason.

And if you have no idea where you should go, any direction except down counts as going forward. Keep trying things, different things, same things from different angles, even things you don't think would work or should work, but don't commit to anything permanent that you can't wiggle away from. Don't sign contracts that bind you for more than 10 years and don't have kids, before you know 100% what you really want. You know that you know for sure when you don't have to ask "how do I know if I know for sure?"

Anything that's not destructive counts as doing something constructive. Just keep trying shit, just pushing random buttons until something works. Something's going to click eventually.

[rotagnus]

love/self-growth in march !! 🫐

my usual pick a pile is here, darlings. pick just as usual--if it doesn't speak to you, don't force yourself to choose. there are messages for you that lie elsewhere.

this reading deals with both platonic, familial, and romantic love. don't expect to get a certain aspect of love or the result you want.

-1. ooouu you're a bright person. probably very creative with a tendency to get stuck within your own head. as for love in march, i think that this month will focus on a connection that already exists. maybe you've been working on self-love, and that's what's growing. for some of you, you've adopted a pet recently and that connection is going to grow stronger. if you're crushing on someone right now, there probably won't be any change except for your feelings growing stronger. my advice to you is to decenter this because if you focus completely on that, it'll be really terrible. you are so full of beauty and flame and wonder, and you should harness this energy and create beauty, not look for it elsewhere. time will bring you everything. you deserve a love which knows no bounds, and whether this person is it or not, you must first find that love within. i know a lot of you don't want to hear this, but it's the truth. i would highly suggest trying to talk to this person, though--to find out what they really are. ask deep questions if you're already on a talking basis with them, if not--try to make a friend.

-2. now baby tell me why you've given up on love. it seems to be a sour topic for you that you shy away from. you've done a lot of self-growth in the past ~6 months, and you're farther along on your self-discovery journey than either of these two piles are. for you, you try not to love. a lot of the times, you feel like you are still unseen. this month will bring change to that. i'm not sure what kind of change, i can't exactly tell, but you'll feel a bit more seen than you did before. this may be to personal circumstances, or maybe another person does something--even a simple action--and you realize that, damn, maybe i really am seen. this month will deal with opening up a little bit more to let the love flow in. lol, for pile 1, it's not really time for love, but for you it is; but you've closed all doors to any possible encounters with love. 🤣 listen, i highly suggest doing some exercises for your vulnerability. it's a great step forward, and i think that it could benefit you. if a person comes into your life, let them. but don't be scared to set boundaries and not settle for less.

-3. you have rose-colored glasses, darling. now, don't take this the wrong way. it can be a very great thing, being idealistic--you at your heart are a ruthless optimist and honestly, a little bit naive. you've been dealing with both ups and downs, this past couple of months. there's been some trouble in your family, and in your love life. you're always the one making ends meet in order to benefit mass sums of people. you're awfully responsible and confident, but you're still...you. you still need rest. i feel like most of you are women--babies, you do NOT need to be the men in the relationship, if you're a masculine woman, disregard this. but for a lot of you, you're stuck in this disbalanced masculine energy. i don't really like talking about the divine feminine and divine masculine and whatnot, but for you i feel like it's important. girl, put yourself FIRST. i promise you there's a man/woman/person out there who's gonna bring you flowers every damn day of the week, you just gotta put yourself first. start to say NO. you might meet someone new in march. someone unexpected. i know you've been taught that change is bad, but in this case, just wait a little bit. baby steps, darling. baby steps.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Warnings | none

Word count | 5.1k

Summary | 6 years is a long time to go without talking to someone after they hung up on you. What do you do when that person messages you out of the blue?

Tagged cuties | @quinnsbabygirl @quinnhughesandqenthusiast @ruinix

- - -

"You just don't understand it, Quinn!"

"I don't? Really? Maybe you don't understand how it works! You don't own me, you know."

"I'm not trying to, but you keep playing with me!"

You were pacing around your dorm room, phone against your ear, deep in an argument with Quinn. He was less than four months into his rookie NHL season and you were starting another year at Michigan. Things had been rough between the two of you since he had left, but now it was so much worse. Talking to him was impossible, or rather, getting him to talk to you was impossible. He rarely texted your first, and if he did, it was to tell you that he was going on the road and just wouldn't want to be on his phone.

Trying to be in his life as much as he'd let you, you tried to watch as many games as you could while balancing class and work. Tonight, Vancouver had lost to the Lightning 9-2 in Tampa and you had just called to be there for him, and it had been a fight since he answered.

"Playing with you?" He scoffed. "You don't let me breathe, Y|N! You don't trust me! I can't do this anymore. I'm over it!"

You rolled your eyes, mouth open to interject just as soon as he was done. "Why would I trust you? You keep me shut out all the time! You have no idea how shitty you are in a relationship, Quinn. Go run around with the rest of your little fan club. Find one of them to screw around with! Don't call me--"

"Hadn't planned on it," Quinn said, interrupting you before ending the call.

That had been almost six years ago.

Quinn was enjoying some time off, down in Florida, around the holidays, trying to get over a hand injury that had been plaguing him for some time. It was late in the evening when he found himself alone in the hot tub, making sure he didn't drop his phone in the steaming water while he scrolled through his Instagram. He had connected with a girl based in Vancouver a few weeks ago and was about to DM her when something else caught his eye. Someone he hadn't thought about in years; someone he hadn't realized he was even still following.

The two of you had met in college; Quinn having enrolled the year prior. You were on the university's Equestrian Team, but it had been your shared Literature class that had brought you two together. You knew nothing about hockey, but Quinn had been more than willing to explain it to you, when you learned he was a star on the team. Everything had been so fun when you were together. However, that fun soon ran out when he left the States for Vancouver. Twenty-five hundred miles apart had been the biggest strain on your relationship, but the time difference, the unknowing, and the mistrust on your part had been the final nails in the coffin.

You had been nineteen, and he was twenty. Neither of you had any business in a long-distance relationship, let alone any kind of relationship built on a fast-paced attraction and no emotional foundation. However, you had taken everything he had done personally, as he had been only the second guy you had ever dated. You just didn't know what you were doing. That was something that you had realized much later in life, and you'd be lying if you hadn't wanted to reconnect with him, if just to apologize, but too much had happened, and you felt it was too late. His posts on Instagram still dinged in on your phone and you would view them when you were curious enough, but often times you'd just clear the notifications. Those days, between the two of you, had been so long ago, and you feared he didn't remember you anyways except for maybe a black spot in his memory.

Your hockey-watching days had come to and end when your relationship had bit the bullet, but you had heard from mutual friends, who remembered Quinn and who were avid sports watchers, that he had made some significant strides in his career with the Canucks. You were happy for him, sure, but the constant reminder of you having been with him had hurt too much and you wondered if it would just be easier to unfollow him. However, you never did. It wasn't like he posted that often, anyways.

It was nearing eleven in the evening outside St. Augustine, Florida. You were getting buckets ready for the morning's feedings when you phone pinged. Anytime your phone went off that late you always made sure to check it. Your parents always told you that calls after hours were never good news. Though, when you turned on the screen, you weren't expecting to see that notification.

Who had sent you a message? Did that say Quinn Hughes had sent you a message? The message read almost like spam, but the account was verified. So, if it was really him, then why? You hadn't spoken since the breakup. In fact, the last message had been from 2019...

Quinn Hughes: Hey, Y|N. I don't know if you even want to hear from me. I thought I might see how you were doing. I hope you're well. It would be nice to hear from you. (11:11pm)

You were in shock. Quinn, after all of these years, had actually reached out? Again, you wondered, why? He had all of these years and now, of all times? You thought on it for a minute, and the only conclusion you could come to was that he was looking for someone else and noticed you were still on his list. There was no other reason for him to notice you. Sure, your Insta account was active, you had a decent following, but you weren't being sought after by any professional athletes, by any means.

Quinn, on the other hand, while he waited for you to reply, if even at all, decided to return to your photos, and pick up where he had left off. He saw your two new horses, your sponsorship with Nikovian, the purchase of the barn in St. Augustine, but what stopped him from scrolling was the gold medal you had won at the Paris Olympics last summer. He remembered going to a couple of your shows back in college, but had no idea what was going on other than you were jumping things against a stopwatch. He found himself smiling at your picture without meaning to. He was taken aback by how much had changed since the two of you had been together. He couldn't get over the massive advancements to both of your lives: he was the captain of the Canucks, and you were a gold medal Olympian.

Twenty minutes you'd leave Quinn on read before you managed to figure out what you wanted to say to him. There had been so much you had wanted to say in the past that no longer carried the same weight as it did now.

Y|N: Well, yours was definitely the last name I expected to see flash up in my notifications. (11:35pm)

Quinn Hughes: I wasn't expecting to see yours either. I figured you had blocked me. (11:36pm)

Y|N: No, I never thought about blocking you. Deleting you, sure, but even then, I didn't do it. (11:40pm)

Quinn Hughes: Well, that's good. :) (11:42pm)

What was he doing? How were you supposed to respond to what he was saying -- how he was coming off? You wanted to be bubbly and excited to talk to Quinn, but considering that the last time that you talked to him had been when he had hung up on you, it was still hard to completely let that bit go. He seemed different, however, and how would he not be? It had been years; both of you surely had changed in big ways since that argument. The thing was, was that he had hurt you -- hurt you deeper than anyone else ever had. Not to mention he had never apologized. You knew you weren't blameless either. You hadn't reached out to him at any point in time to make amends, but you never disagreed that you weren't stubborn.

Y|N: Sorry-- I really don't know what to say. (11:45pm)

Quinn Hughes: It's alright. Honestly, the fact that you replied at all means a lot. :) (11:46pm)

You weren't oblivious, you could tell how quickly he responded to you -- the eagerness. You wondered if he was laying in bed, just watching his phone for your reply, wondering if you were doing the same. There were still horse chores to be done but every time that Instagram notification went off, you checked your phone. You felt like that little nineteen-year-old again which scared you slightly.

Quinn Hughes: Hey, I just noticed the time, I'm sorry if I'm keeping you up. (11:48pm)

Y|N: Just getting feed buckets ready for the morning, you're fine. (11:55pm)

Quinn Hughes: You're still working? It's midnight! :0 (11:58pm)

Y|N: I have almost 20 horses boarded here, so it keeps me busy. I don't always work this late but my lessons ran long this afternoon. (12:01am)

You found yourself in the tack room, laying on your back on the leather sofa. There was no denying that you were tired, but Quinn had you curious -- too curious to just end the conversation and go to bed.

Quinn Hughes: Wow, 20!? That's incredible! Knowing you, I'm sure the place looks like a magazine. ;) (12:02am)

Y|N, Ha, you're not wrong. I'd say you're welcome to come visit, but Vancouver is a bit of a trip. (12:03am)

Deciding to take a risk with the open door invitation, you noticed how fast your heart had started to beat. The instant regret ramped up when the notification that Quinn was typing -- making you quickly turn off your phone's screen to avoid him getting the "read" alert as soon as it delivered.

Quinn Hughes: I'm actually not too far away. Spending a little more time down home while I deal with something. (12:03am)

Y|N: Are you alright? (12:04am)

You couldn't help yourself feeling some sort of way about him, or about asking if he was okay given how he had worded his last statement. Self-control was becoming a slippery slope.

Quinn Hughes: Yeah, for the most part. Just a tendon issue. (12:05am)

Y|N: "Just" a tendon issue? (12:05am)

Quinn Hughes: Haha, fair point. I'm listed week-to-week at the moment. It's been bothering me for some time, but lately it's gotten worse. Just trying to give me some down time to get right before the 4 Nations in February. (12:07am)

Y|N: Hockey players with hand issues doesn't sound ideal! (12:08am)

Quinn Hughes: I would assume like a horse with a foot problem, lol. ;) What's the phrase you always said? (12:10am)

Y|N: No hoof, no horse? (12:10am)

Quinn Hughes: Yeah, lol. (12:10am)

You couldn't contain your smiles. How had him remembering the stupidest little thing bring a wave of emotion over you? Falling into a spiral of what-ifs, Quinn would double-text you which would snap you out of your delusional headspace.

Quinn Hughes: Would you really want to meet up? It's been a long time. Not sure if you were being serious or just said that to be nice. (12:18am)

It had now been over an hour since Quinn had messaged you for the first time in years, but it had felt like just ten minutes had passed -- somehow those six years felt like it had only been a week ago. The Quinn Hughes whirlwind was insane.

Y|N: Yeah, I meant what I said. If you want to come by, I'd love to show you around. (12:19am)

How long had it been since you used the word "love" and "you" in the same message sent to Quinn? It felt both foreign and familiar -- the warning lights were flashing behind your eyes, but the alarms were muted.

Quinn Hughes: Are you busy tomorrow? (12:21am)

Y|N: Tomorrow as in this morning, or actually tomorrow-tomorrow? (12:21am)

Quinn Hughes: Oh, lmao, right! ;) Tomorrow as in this morning. (12:22am)

Y|N: I'm always "busy" but I can make time for you. (12:23am)

Your throat tightened after hitting send on that message. You wanted to kick yourself in the ass for coming off like there wasn't any bad blood between you. Not that it was anything terrible, and you had grown since that moment, but that didn't mean you were still hopeful to talk to him about it -- clear the air.

Quinn Hughes: What time works for you? (12:23am)

Y|N: Whenever, really. I'll be here all day. (12:24am)

Quinn Hughes: Alright, well, I'll let you get your stuff done and I'll get with you in the morning for directions? :) (12:26am)

Y|N: Work for me~ (12:26am)

Quinn Hughes: Have a good night. :) It was nice to talk to you. (12:28am)

Y|N: You too, Quinn~ <3 (12:28)

By the end of the conversation, you felt like you were floating above the cushions of the sofa. Had you really made plans to see Quinn in the morning? For a fleeting second you wondered what the hell was wrong with you. You wondered what morning-you was going to think about your decision...

- - -

Sunrise had come too early. Your late-night chat with Quinn, and feed-prep had cut into your sleep, and you could feel the repercussions that morning. Regardless of how you felt, you had a job to do and a guest due in in a few hours. Hopefully that wouldn't turn into a mistake.

Just like he had said, Quinn texted you for the directions, at a much more reasonable time than he had yesterday.

Quinn Hughes: Morning. :) (8:04am)

Y|N: It's definitely morning, yep. (8:15am)

Quinn Hughes: Did I wake you up? (8:17am)

Y|N: No, I've been up since 5:30... (8:21am)

Quinn Hughes: I shouldn't have keep messaging you last night. I'm sorry. (8:23am)

"You'll apologize about that...really?" You thought to yourself.

Y|N: You're good. I could have just stopped messaging~ (8:24am)

Quinn Hughes: Fair point! (8:29am)

Y|N: Before I get too busy, here's the directions and the passcode for the gate. (8:31am)

Quinn Hughes: Gated, huh? LOL Thanks, I'll see you in a couple hours then. (8:36am)

Y|N: Be careful (8:39am)

Quinn Hughes: :) (8:40am)

- - -

Those two hours had come a lot quicker than you thought they would have. No sooner had you DM'd Quinn for the last time, your first lesson of the day arrived, and they were late. They were supposed to have been there at nine, but hadn't show up till closer to ten. Thankfully, it wouldn't affect your afternoon timeslots, but it was going to put you still teaching when Quinn arrived. Just one of those things that couldn't be avoided.

After imputing the code into the terminal, Quinn drove up the long, shaded lane until the property opened up to him. It was expansive, with numerous green pastures, white rolling fences, and several outlying buildings. Everything was perfectly manicured and matched from one side of the property to the other. Every building was the same shade of paint, the same style of doors, and even the landscaping. It was like a real-life drag-and-drop tool had been used. He had been right: it was straight out of a magazine.

Unsure of where to park --as he hadn't thought to ask about it-- Quinn pulled up to the house and got out. He was met with something that took him back several years: the sweet smell of fresh alfalfa, and the indescribable smell of horses. It was your place, for sure.

With hands in the pockets of his joggers, Quinn decided to wander towards the larger of the barns he could see on the property. Horses in the outside turnouts knickered and trotted up to meet him along the fences as he went past. They made him smile as he petted the noses of the ones who had been curious enough to see if he had any treats or not.

"Do you have a lesson?" Asked a little voice, pulling him from the moment with the animal. She couldn't have been much older than ten and looked at him with narrowed eyes, her hands on her hips.

"I, uh...no, I don't," Quinn replied, not sure how to approach the situation, resigning his hands back to his pockets as the horse nudged his shoulder.

"Well, you shouldn't pet horses that aren't yours! You don't know how to do it right! You'll get bit!"

"Emily, that's rude. You need to apologize," said the girl's father, deeply embarrassed by his daughter's outburst. "I'm so sorry about that."

Quinn laughed softly, "It's alright. Hey, actually could you tell me where Y|N might be?"

The little girl continued to side-eye Quinn harshly. "Are you her boyfriend or something?"

"Emily," the father said, unable to refrain from rolling his eyes at his daughter's possessive attitude. "Drop it, please."

Smirking, Quinn looked down at the grass for a moment before returning them to her disapproving features, "I used to be."

"You better not have been mean to her. I'll beat you up! Miss Y|N is the best!" She balled her right hand into a tiny fist before her father took her by the arm.

"That's enough! You do not threaten anyone for any reason. Do you understand me?"

"But--"

"Do you-- understand me?"

She gave a silent nod, still eyeing Quinn suspiciously while her father confessed his deepest apologies to him, expressing that he wasn't sure what had gotten into his daughter.

"This is a first. Please, forgive us. Um, I'm sure Y|N is still in the upper arena. Just follow that path there, and you can't miss it. Again, I'm very sorry about all of this."

Quinn had to contain his want to laugh, as the father and daughter returned to their SUV, the child looking over her shoulder at Quinn one more time. If looks could have killed... With the vague directions, he followed the paved, concrete path to the east and towards a very large building. He had to decide which door to take, and hope it would be the right one and not one that would put him face to face with a twelve-hundred-pound animal that wasn't expecting him to be there. Thankfully, he had guessed the correct one, and it would open up into a posh viewing area behind glass with numerous matching leather armchairs. Quinn thought to himself about how grand this whole property was and that he wondered if he should have dressed a little nicer.

The other people in the seating area gave him similar looks like the little girl from earlier. He, however, found himself locked onto you as you rode around the arena with the girl involved in the lesson. You looked like you had in your Instagram photos, but nothing had prepared him for how you looked in person. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been next to you, but there you were. His smile deepened when you came closer to the glass, but you didn't notice him. Quinn assumed it had two-way effect which allowed parents to see their kids, but the rider or the horse would be none the wiser to the distractions on the other side.

"Do you need help with anything?" Questioned one of the women in the room once Quinn sat down. "You don't look like anyone we've seen here before. How did you get in?" Her tone was of fake interest and niceness as was her smile.

"Just waiting on Y|N," he said softly, returning his attention to you. "I have the code for the front gate." He would miss the woman looking down her nose at his two-day scruff, wild curls protruding from his hat, and the relaxed look of his clothes. He didn't fit the aesthetic of the holier-than-thou equestrian elite and he didn't care. He was there for you and that was it.

The woman and her friend would leave before the lesson had come to an end, finally letting Quinn breath a sigh of deep relief. It was like the whole room had warmed ten degrees and the air didn't feel as heavy.

Eventually both horses exited the arena, leaving Quinn unsure of what to do now. He grabbed his phone and shot you a DM, hoping you would be around your phone before too long.

Quinn Hughes: Hey, I'm here. I'm in some kind of sitting room in the arena. In case a certain blonde tells you I'm here, I'm not looking to rob the place. :( (11:04am)

It would be fifteen minutes before you saw his message.

"Oh shit!" You muttered to yourself, checking your phone after getting the lesson horse returned to its stall. Without replying, you'd rush off towards the large building, stopping to collect yourself before you opened the doors.

"Hey--," you said, seeing him turn to face you. "I'm sorry you had to wait on me."

He stood up, already with a smile on his full lips. You didn't really expect him to look a certain way; you hadn't stalked his account like he had yours. You just hadn't had the time that morning to prepare yourself, but you weren't disappointed. His style was a stark contrast against your polished riding clothes, but you didn't care. He looked so comfortable and you were jealous. There was nothing comfortable about English riding gear. Everything was tight against the skin, restrictive, and painfully hot in the Florida heat.

"It's alright, I knew you were busy. You look--," he stumbled over his words. "It's great to see you."

Unable to keep yourself from smiling, you returned the warm greeting, "It's been a minute."

- - -

"Do you still have Tater?" Quinn asked as the two of you walked slowly through the stable.

You hadn't expected him to remember, "Oh! Tater Tot? Yeah, I still have him! I think he's turned out right now. C'mon, let's see if he's out here."

Leading Quinn through one of the side doors, he'd linger behind you for a moment before returning to your side. He couldn't help admiring the view, but didn't want to come off like a creep. It was hard for him to come to terms that all of this was actually happening.

"I'm shocked you remember Tater," you added, leaning against the white fence rails after whistling for the horse's attention. It wouldn't take long for the bay horse to come trotting from the back corner of the turnout.

Quinn laughed softly to himself, "Hard to forget being bitten."

"Oh, pfft, he got more of your hoodie than actually of you! I told you not to put those treats in your pocket."

"I didn't want to hold them, though," he smirked, reliving the full memory in vivid detail. "Think he'll remember me?"

"They don't forget, just hold out your hand."

Quinn gave you a look of disapproval before it melted to a shit-eating grin, "I'm dealing with enough hand issues at the moment."

"He's not going to bite you!"

Tater stopped just short of you, obviously looking for a reward for having been pulled away from his grazing. He towered over the both of you, and Quinn seemed reluctant to approach given his past with the animal.

"You said that the first time, too!"

Looking over, you'd laugh, because Quinn looked like a little kid scared to get any closer for fear of being eaten. You'd back off the rails and take him by the arm. The eye contact between the both of you, following the physical contact, left you both blushing. Quinn would extend his arm out on his own, but your hand wouldn't drop away from his body till the horse moved forward. You should have been enjoying the sweet moment, but all you were doing was internally chiding yourself for having been so upfront and touchy. He didn't seem bothered by anything, but you were for the both of you.

Once the horse was dissatisfied that he wasn't getting anything extra, he turned away and left Quinn and yourself alone in the awkwardness.

"See, I told you that you'd fine," you forced yourself to say, watching Tater walk away instead of making eye contact with Quinn for the time being.

He chuckled, putting his hands back in his pockets, "How long do you have until your next lesson?"

You'd have to look at your phone for the time. How had nearly two hours gone by already? "Oh shoot, um-- looks like I have a half-an-hour."

"That flew, huh?"

"Yeah..."

Quinn paused for a moment, trying to find the right thing to say, "Well, thanks for letting me come by. It was great to see you, Y|N."

"Are you leaving?" You were shocked to hear him saying his goodbyes so soon. "Did I say something wrong?"

"What? No, no! I just thought you'd want me out of your hair so you could get to work."

You looked away, feeling torn between two options, "You're welcome to hang around, Quinn, unless you have other places to be."

"Are you sure? I don't want to be in your way."

Shaking your head, you'd reassure him that you didn't mind if he hung around. He was welcome to stay out in the barn, the house, or just wander the grounds. He seemed happy to be told that he didn't need to turn around and head back to the lake house so quickly. Honestly, you didn't want to him leave so soon either -- not since this was the first time you had seen him in nearly six years. However, you couldn't let yourself be too excited. You still needed to talk to him.

- - -

The rest of the day seemed to fly by. Your afternoon lessons had been on time and went off without a hitch, and after the way the morning had gone, you were thankful. Quinn, funny enough, had spent the majority of your teaching time in your living room, asleep on the couch. You were so envious of the fact that he got a nap, considering it had been his late-night messages that had kept you from getting much sleep at all. Again, five a.m. had come quickly for you. Regardless, you knew you'd feel better with him driving home if he was rested.

Your two stable hands were helping you with feedings, when your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Quinn Hughes: Do you need help with anything? I feel weird just...hanging out in your house. (4:43pm)

Y|N: We're just finishing up, you're good, but thanks. Help yourself to whatever. I shouldn't be too long. (4:45pm)

Quinn Hughes: Are you sure? (4:46pm)

Y|N: Just don't drink all of my cherry wine in the fridge! LOL (4:50pm)

Quinn Hughes: Dammit! I'll just sit here then (4:51pm)

Y|N: If you're that desperate, you can come feed your buddy Tater. (4:55pm)

Quinn Hughes: I'm good! Like I said, I've already got one bad hand! (4:55pm)

Y|N: Suit yourself! ;) (5:01pm)

Another half hour would pass before you finally dragged yourself back to the house. Quinn was still where you had left him: on the sofa, but now the television was on, and tuned to the NHLN channel. (Go figure.) You thought to yourself.

"All done?" He asked as you planted yourself on the bench by the front door. It felt so good to sit down on something other than a saddle, because your back was killing you. The sigh that escaped your lips non-verbally expressed how tired you were; even a blind man could sense it, despite your head falling back against the wall.

"Finally," you breathed out.

Quinn frowned though you wouldn't see it. It pained him to see you so exhausted just sitting there. "Are all of your days like this?"

You'd pull yourself off the wall to finally look at him as you struggled to remove your riding boots. "Pretty much. Normally, I have a little more sleep."

It wasn't your intention to punch him in the gut like you did, but he remembered the early morning conversation that had kept you from your bed. "That's my fault, sorry."

"Oh, you're fine! It happens! I told you I could have just stopped replying."

"Yeah, but--"

Your second boot would hit the floor with a thud, almost interrupting him. You could tell your feet were going to swell... "Maybe I'll sleep in in the morning, ha!"

Quinn didn't know how to respond to your sarcasm and opted to just remain quiet.

"Don't feel bad about it, honest. It happens."

"I feel like I should get out of here so you can get an early night. Maybe we could get lunch tomorrow or something?"

You glazed over his wishes of leaving early to focus on his want to come back tomorrow. "You want to drive back down tomorrow?"

He looked like a deer-in-the-headlights, "I invited myself over again, didn't I?"

"No, it wasn't that! I'm just-- shocked, that you'd want...to make the drive again."

"It's just a couple hours."

"One way," you stressed.

"It's no big deal."

His smile took your breath away, prompting your heart to run away with your words, "Why don't you just stay if you're planning to come out tomorrow, too? If-- you want that is." You prayed he didn't see your blushing cheeks through the Golden Hour sun streaming through the living room's large windows.

"Oh, I couldn't--"

"There are plenty of rooms. It's not like you'd be putting me out. But, you do what you want." You dragged yourself to your feet and shuffled past him through the living room. The words you had picked made you feel like you were trying to gaslight him into saying. Best to physically leave that conversation for a glass of wine in the kitchen. However, you wouldn't be alone for long.

Leaning against the doorframe, Quinn had followed behind you. "You're sure?"

"I'd feel bad if you fell asleep driving..."

Thankfully his nervous laughter broke whatever tension was starting to form, "Yeah, I don't want that. Thanks."

"No problem," you replied, your back to him as you grabbed a glass. "Are you as hungry as I am?"

"Starving!"

"

[cumplanecrash]

Just over 500 words of the deaged!SQQ concept that stole my soul yesterday while i was trying to work. Not quite feeling the vocal tic(s) here but I didn't wanna write baby talk. I'm thinking Binghe is about 16 here, and Shizun has been made about 4.

Honestly, Shen Qingqiu had been thinking immediately before everything went to shit, My disciples know what they're doing; they don't need me.

And then the demon in question flung a spell with a frankly alarming amount of qi powering it at Luo Binghe, and of course Shen Qingqiu was the closest person to be able to help deflect, sticky thing that his Binghe was, and really, he'd intended to throw up a shield as soon as he got into position, but the spell was moving so much more quickly than anything else the demon had done so far, and, and, and --

Shen Qingqiu hit the ground. He felt Luo Binghe immediately leap over his position and sling two sword glares in the same movement, not a Qing Jing form but damn impressive. At least two more disciples took position surrounding where Shen Qingqiu was incapacitated -- covered in a blanket, maybe? He thought Ming Fan was the one breaking formation to get in close, based on the wordless yell and rapid footsteps, as all his disciples on this trip redoubled their efforts to take the creature down, hurling vincentives that Shen Qingqiu is sure he's never heard anyone utter since he died, cough cough. Shen Qingqiu knew his disciples would need guidance, the demon was apparently far more powerful than they'd given it credit for, but first he needed to see what the damage was, and if he would be in the way.

His head popped out of its covering triumphantly, just in time to see the demon be bisected vertically by a sword glare from the group next to him -- Binghe or Yingying, based on the warm tone -- and from behind by Ming Fan's sword.

Ah, well. He had just been thinking what good hands he was in.

"A-Yuan thinks this might be a very good lesson in not letting your guard down around an enemy, even if you think you have their measure," a childish lisp announced from his approximate location. Huh. He'd been trying to say 'this master' but that is not what came out of his mouth. "Also, A-Yuan thinks that spell was a very nasty trick, and is afraid to look down."

From the general direction of down, an open palm smacked him in the rough vicinity of his face.

Shen Qingqiu -- Shen Yuan, he must suppose-- looked down.

The face he saw bore a striking resemblance to the one he had seen in the mirror every day since he'd died, and, he suspected, an even more striking resemblance to the one he currently wore.

"Noisy," complained the Original Goods, because honestly, who the hell else could it be? The child -- if Shen Yuan had to guess, perhaps they were four or five years old, presuming he was just as deaged as the boy in his arms -- was naked except for the Peak Lord appropriate robes they were both loosely draped in, and was burrowing further into Shen Yuan's chest. "Xiao Jiu is trying to sleep."

[omgsecretsecret]

Wife

Pairing : Han Jisung x gn!reader ; established relationship

Genre : fluff, a tiny little bit of angst I guess? reader is just a bit anxious

Word count : about 1,750 (I never thought I would write that much)

Warnings : probably nothing lol. Talking about marriage if that's a warning? I didn't make it about a specific religion because marriage don't always have to be religious and I wanted to include as many persons as possible

Author's note : this was supposed to be out for Valentine's day but I'm 2 days late (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ ; thanks to a lovely friend of mine for helping me proofreading it ; I know the title is "Wife" but I promise it's really gn reader ; the pics on top are not mine, credits to the owners

Taglist : @giddyfatherchris & @0omillo0 <3

Masterlist

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

You had been thinking about it for a while. Jisung and you have been dating for a few years now, you even moved in together. He is always the perfect boyfriend, taking care of you when you are happy and when you are not, making you laugh and comforting you. You did have a few arguments, but never anything big enough to threaten your relationship. He is always mature enough to stop before it gets too big. He always makes time for you, and the way he looks at you with all the fondness in the world is just another proof of his feelings for you. And in return, you love him just as much. You hold him when he's down, cook and and help him shower when he's too tired, attack his cheeks with kisses to cheer him up, and always give in to his pouty lips and boba eyes when he asks for 'just a tiny peck' and he ends up pulling you in for a few more 'or he will die'.

He likes to hold your hand pretty much all the time, but he gives you more space when he knows you need it. When he cooks, he always makes a little heart with some items on your plate. It can be with sauce, rice, vegetables, a scrambled egg, anything. It's silly, it can be on the whole dish or just a tiny one in the corner, but it's adorable. He knows your favorite drink, and is always proud to order it for you when you go out. He notices when you run out of something, and always makes a quick run to the nearest store to make a little stock. He sometimes sings you to sleep, and it is your favorite thing ever.

It's the little things that make your relationship so great, and you hope it's the same little things, with maybe some more added, that will keep you happy in your marriage. Because that is what you have been planning. You want to spend the rest of your life with him, and what better way than this to make it official. You know everybody doesn't have to get married, but you want to.

Planning your proposal took a little bit of thinking. You wanted to make something special, of course, but nothing too grand. You know Jisung would be uncomfortable with anything too big. You need a cozy place, at a moment when you are both relaxed (or at least he is), something sweet and personal. That is how you got the idea of a home date.

Jisung and you have started watching an anime together a few days ago because he insisted that you would like it. And so, this would be the evening when you would propose to him.

You have prepared everything. Today is your boyfriend's day off. You're pretty sure he noticed that you are more stressed than usual, and it's probably why he keeps being so so gentle with you, but you don't let that disturb you more. You appreciate his care more than anything, really, but you're too busy making sure everything is perfect to try to reassure him.

You get all of the snacks ready, set all the pillows and blankets perfectly on the sofa and check at least three times that all of the other details are exactly like you want them. You can then finally change into comfortable clothes like every time you organize a home date like this one, except this time you pay more attention to your appearance, taking more time to get ready in more depth to make yourself pretty for the special night.

When you come out, you can't help but feel a wave of affection at the sight of your boyfriend in his oversized warm hoodie and soft pair of sweats waiting for you. He looks a little tense too, probably because of how you have been stressed, and you'll have to help him relax. He's already sitting in the middle of all of the pillows. He immediately perks up at the sound of you entering the room and looks at you, a heart-shaped smile blooming on his face. He pulls up the cover so you can sit next to him and cuddle and he just looks so cute all excited but still slightly concerned about your nervous state.

You give him a soft, genuine smile before making yourself comfortable on the couch with him. You know you have to relax, at least so he can enjoy the show without worrying about you. So you give him a small peck in the lips, rest your head on his shoulder and start the episode.

Unfortunately, your resolution of being relaxed is soon forgotten as you think about what you are going to do tonight. What if he says no ? While preparing everything for today, you were more focused on choosing the right ring, right moment and place, and it's only now that your mind really drifts off to all of the failing possibilities. You're not focused on the anime anymore and it must be obvious because Jisung speaks up at the end of the episode.

"Jagi ? Are you okay ? You weren't even watching. he says in a slightly concerned tone, lips forming a small pout.

— I'm good, baby, sorry about that." you quickly reassure him. "I was just distracted. I'm thirsty right now, do you want something to drink too ?"

He simply nods, big doe eyes following you as you get up and go to the kitchen. Once there, you take a minute to compose yourself. You have to do it now. If you don't do it now, you won't do it tonight, and you don't know when you'll do it. You grab two glasses for your boyfriend and yourself, pour the drinks and take them in one hand. With your other hand, you carefully take the little box that you had hidden earlier and slip it in your pocket. This is definitely not as romantic as what you had planned. You have been anxious all night and you don't even know if Jisung enjoyed it that much. Maybe a regular date out in a restaurant would have been better ?

You shake your head. You would have been just as anxious in a restaurant anyway, except it would have been in public. Now is okay. You take a deep breath and go back to the living room where your boyfriend is waiting for you. You set the drinks down on the table next to your snacks and Jisung is quick to pull the soft blanket up again so you can sit next to him. But this time you don't.

"Before we continue our date there is something I want to tell you. Or ask you." great, first sentence and you already sound stupid. But Jisung doesn't seem to think the same way because he takes your hand as a silent encouragement. "I... I have been thinking about it for a while now. You make me happy, so so happy. Every day when I wake up, you're there with me. You are kind, you are funny, you are gentle, you are strong, you are cute, you are smart, you are creative, you are very too, and there is still so much more. Every moment I spend with you is full of happiness and I want it to last forever." now this is smoother.

You clumsily get on one knee in front of your boyfriend, shaky hands gripping the small box firmly. "So, Han Jisung, will you marry me ?" you see his eyes fill with tears and you hope they are happy tears. "Will you stay with me and be my wife ?"

Silence.

Will he be your wife ? You are so stupid.

"M-my husband ! My husband ! Will you be my husband ! Oh my gosh..." you cover your face with your hands, mortified. How could you make such a dumb mistake when you are fucking proposing to your boyfriend ? The silence is deafening until a laugh which you love is heard. Warm hands grab your wrists and pull them away from your face.

"Baby, it's okay ! If anything it makes it even better." he says while laughing. "I never thought this would happen tonight, but I couldn't be happier." his eyes get watery again. "You are the love of my life, jagi, I want to marry you."

You smile brightly, squeezing him in your arms as tightly as you can. You kiss him with all the love you have for him, your tears of joy mixing with his, before you gasp and pull away. You quickly get back in your previous position and grab your little box again, looking up at your boyfriend– no, your fiancé. You slide the ring on his finger and he entwines your hands.

"So.. what color do you think my dress should be at the wedding ?" he chuckles as he pulls you closer. "I have to look pretty when I officially become you wife !" he teases.

— It was a mistake ! you whine as you hide your face in his shoulder.

— You're so cute. I know you like when I wear a skirt, maybe I should do it more often...

— Stop it !" you cover his mouth with your hand, embarrassed. "... Though I wouldn't hate it." you mumble. He is indeed very pretty in a skirt.

He chuckles again and gently removes your hand from his face. His eyes are still a little moist from his tears of earlier, but you know they were good ones.

"Noted." he says softly, looking at you with a fond gaze. "Is that why you were so nervous earlier ?" he asks and you nod. "Okay. I was a little worried. But it was worth it, I'm your fiancé now !" he grins.

You both stay there for a little while, trying to process that you are engaged now, that he isn't just your boyfriend anymore. You still have lots of time to plan a wedding, so neither of you think about it. You just cuddle peacefully and eventually watch the episode again so you can actually follow the story. It's impressive how quickly you went back to usual. You're cuddling just like you normally do, and from the outside it probably looks like nothing is different, but you know that something between you changed, in a good way. You have the promise of a forever, and you can't wait to call him your husband.

do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[weneeya]

soft kiss m.list | rules

pairing. haikyuu x reader

characters. oikawa, osamu, kageyama, kenma

note. apparently i'm not able to write with anything other than haikyuu, so here i am once again! i'm trying to write with different characters bc i love them all <3 don't hesitate to request!

⎯ Oikawa as sharing a kiss after a long time

It had been months since the great Oikawa Tooru had left for Argentina. You had pushed him to leave without a single thought ; it was too much of an opportunity for him to just say no because of you. Yes, you missed him like crazy, but you called each other anytime you could, fighting against the timezone. 

Argentina was so far away, and Oikawa was so busy that you didn't have a single idea of when you would be able to see him again. You tried not to worry too much about this, knowing well that he would feel guilty for leaving like this. 

You were with Iwaizumi, laying down on his couch while telling him how you felt about the distance with your boyfriend. After all, it was also his best friend, he was the best to help you right now. Your monologue was cut off by the bell of the door. You looked up to glance at Iwa who simply shrugged his shoulders. 

“You should go open,” he told you, and you didn’t understand why he would ask you to open the door of his apartment after hearing someone ; but you did it anyway, standing up from the couch to go to the door. You opened it without expecting anything, until your eyes locked on a face you knew too well. 

Your eyes widened and you didn’t even know what to say right now. You blinked a few times, trying to process when you heard his voice. “You didn’t miss me?” Tooru teased you, and the second after you were almost jumping on him. He caught you the second after, keeping his balance so none of you would fall. 

You looked into his eyes, still not realizing that he was really here now. What made you realize it was when he leaned closer to capture your lips, his fingers tangling with your hair at the back of your head to keep you close. It felt surreal, because you haven’t felt him so close since what felt like an eternity. 

You kissed him back like your whole life depended on it, your hands cupping his cheeks. It never felt so strong before, perhaps because you never spent so much time away from each other before. 

What brought you both back on Earth was Iwaizumi clearing his throat behind you, arms crossed on his chest and a grin at the corner of his lips. “At least get inside,” he told you, and Tooru nodded, taking your hand in his to get in Iwa’s apartment. You had no idea for how long he would be here, but you planned on enjoying every moment until he left again.

⎯ Osamu as a forehead kiss to check your temperature

You had been feeling sick the whole day, but your boyfriend was sadly not here to take care of you. Osamu had a lot of work to do at the restaurant, and he left too early to even notice how bad you could feel. You decided not to say anything to him while he was gone ; he had enough stress with work, he didn’t need to be worrying about you on top of that. 

When Osamu came home after his long day of work, he simply walked to the living room where he knew he would find you. Except that he didn’t expect you to be half asleep, but clearly feverish. You slowly looked up at him, and you quickly noticed the light frown on his face. 

“What’s going on?” He asked you, crossing his arms as you slowly sat back up on the couch. You sighed a bit, before you explained that you spent the day here on the couch, not even able to go make yourself something to eat. It simply made his frown a bit harder on his already tired face. “Stay here, lay down and don’t move.” 

Osamu left for the kitchen, after he made sure that you were really laying down on the couch while he was gone. He came back in the living room a moment later, with a plate in his hands, which he put on the table next to you. You sat back and he took a seat right next to you. “Eat what you can, but don’t force yourself.” 

You took some time to eat a bit, before you turned around to be facing him. You were about to say something when you simply felt his lips brushing against your forehead. It caught you off guard, his hand resting at the back of your head. He moved away a few seconds later, a bit of worry in his eyes. “You got a really bad fever. Come here, let’s get you to bed.” 

You were too flabbergasted to realize that he was already taking your hand to guide you to the bedroom. You didn’t know what you did to deserve such a sweet man, but you knew he would take care of you for as long as you would need it.

⎯ Kageyama as kissing your knuckles to ease your anxiety

Exams were slowly but surely approaching, and as always, it made you a nervous wreck. You weren’t bad at school, never really having catastrophic grades ; and yet, it made your anxiety rise like crazy. You were overworking yourself, spending hours on studying to be sure that you would pass. 

It made Kageyama worry a lot. He was bad at showing it, but he really hated those times because you were staying inside the whole day, not even caring a little about your own health. He knocked at the door of your dorm room, and the light sound he heard from the other side gave him the permission to get inside. 

His eyes met your figure sitting in front of your desk, not even looking up at him when he walked closer to you. He sat on your bed, next to where you were, waiting in silence until you would finally look up from your books. 

“Did you need something?” You asked without looking at him, and it made him frown slightly. He stood up, marking your page before closing the book in front of you. Suddenly, you looked up at him, about to say something, when you realized what was going on. You sighed slowly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, I just…” 

“I know,” he told you softly, falling on his knees in front of you. He gently grabbed your hands in his, looking up at you. He was bad with words, he knew it ; and he wasn’t really good with showing it either ; but for you, he always tried his best. 

He raised your hand closer to his face, and his lips kissed your knuckles without saying anything more. You stayed silent too, tilting your head to the side while looking at him. No words were needed, you simply closed your eyes and breathed slowly. He always said he was bad at showing you affection, but you couldn’t ask for better.

⎯ Kenma as kissing your nose to watch you blush

Your boyfriend had never been a huge fan of PDA. In fact, he wasn’t a huge fan of physical affection in general. But if there was one thing that he loved way more than he disliked PDA, it was teasing you in front of everyone. It was his little guilty pleasure, he couldn’t lie about it. 

Kenma was currently streaming, and you were doing your own things in the rest of the house. His viewers knew you well. Even if he wanted to keep your relationship a secret at first, people began to notice things and, eventually, he had to properly introduce you to them. It was safe to say that he never missed a chance to embarrass you in front of his whole chat since that. 

He was just chatting with the viewers, when he heard some noise from outside, which made an idea cross his mind. A light grin on his face, Kenma called out for you. It didn’t take you long to join him, opening the door and raising an eyebrow. 

“Come here, please,” he asked you to walk closer, which you did without understanding what was happening. He gestured to you to lean over him, and when you did, he quickly left a kiss on the tip of your nose. It was fast, but it was enough to make your face burn all of a sudden. 

You stuttered a few words which didn’t make any sense, and all he did was to grin at you. You hated how proud he looked right now. You pushed his shoulder, moving away from the camera angle, and it made him chuckle. Teasing you really was his guilty pleasure.

thank you!!

[cookie-lore-keeper]

All the Canon or Implied Canon Relationships in Cookie Run

For some reason, you cookies really like your romantic relationships. It's fine, though. I'm the exact same way. But, to fill your shipping needs, here are all the confirmed/implied romantic relationships in Cookie Run!

Cocoa Cookie and Mint Choco Cookie, obviously. Both have crushes on each other but they're both too shy to act on it, despite every Cookie already knowing and shipping them (I see you Mont Blance and Latte trying to dress Cocoa up for her not date. I also see you, Sparkling Cookie, who also clearly ships them)

Lime Cookie has a massive crush on Orange Cookie and tries her best to get her attention and impress her. She also gets jealous when other cookies show interest in Orange Cookie, lol

Pure Vanilla Cookie literally stated that he loved White Lily Cookie and even said, "Do I still have feelings... for White Lily Cookie?" In his dream, so that's confirmed. We don't know whether White Lily Cookie likes him back, but given all the shit they do for each other, I'd say she does

Sea Fairy Cookie and Moonlight Cookie are in love, and Sea Fairy literally abandoned her role as an elemental so she could forever gaze at the moon

Despite not being officially confirmed, it is so VERY heavily implied that Shadow Milk Cookie has feelings beyond obsession for Pure Vanilla Cookie. He is ECSTATIC over the idea of Pure Vanilla Cookie saying that they are "meant to be" and when Pure Vanilla Cookie says that he'll stay by his side forever. For fuck's sake, the two literally FUSE their souljam. Honestly, some romances can't be described by simple words. Sometimes it's described through obsession, corruption, awakening, and hatred.

Knight Cookie has a crush on Princess Cookie and literally has a dream where she was going to ask him to marry her, but he woke up before it could finish

Blue Lily Cookie has a crush on Lilybell Cookie, and it's implied that Lilybell likes her back (no, they are not sisters. No, Lilybell Cookie isn't a child. She is an adult, but she is just small).

Milk Cookie has a celebrity crush in Dark Choco Cookie

In the comics, Adventurer Cookie and Blackberry Cookie are married

Lord Oyster and White Pearl Cookie both had crushes on each other before shit hit the fan

In the comics, Fire Spirit Cookie had a crush on Cocoa Cookie

I'm actually not sure about this one since wikis can be edited by anyone, but I'll still count it. It's implied that Shining Glitter Cookie and Black Lemonade Cookie have feelings for each other

Cotton Candy Cookie has a crush on Pink Choco Cookie

Cotton Candy Cookie has a crush on Chili Pepper Cookie (shown on relationships chart. Honestly, she has a crush on everyone)

Cotton Candy Cookie has a crush on Roguefort Cookie and Roguefort Cookie is attracted to her.

Raspberry Mousse Cookie has a massive crush on Rose Cookie. Though, he seems to not know what it is and thinks that it's a curse...

Royal Berry Cookie and Jungleberry Cookie are married (does anyone except Hollyberry even care about them?)

Espresso Cookie and Madeleine Cookie.... kinda. Okay, I'm not really sure. I'm leaning toward "maybe" bcuz devsiss advertises it a lot more than other ships, but also, that could just be bcuz it's popular. Espresso Cookie seems to be annoyed by Madeleine Cookie's antics, but Madeleine Cookie seems to want to impress Espresso Cookie and he does view him as a friend and despite their differences, they are seen a lot together. Is it canon? Idk, probably queer-baiting. But ik that someone was going to say smthn, so I put it here. Put its status as: "Idk, it could be 🤷‍♂️"

Linzer Cookie and Créme Brûlée Cookie are exes, and it's implied they still have lingering feelings torwards each other

If I forgot anything, please tell me!

[ckret2]

I don't know if anyone has asked this already, but I really really need to know if goldilocks is gonna have any romantic development between agent powers and Bill, where Bill does feel a certain thrill for the whole dating scene. I honestly had never thought of them as a pair before, but with your fic I'm genuinely in need of any content at all where there's a certain mutual romantic/sexual tension between the two, and I really wanna know if you plan on expanding a bit on it, because after all Billford is the endgame, but idk if this is gonna be a plot point where Ford experiences jealousy (bc I'd eat up that too, honestly, anything u write makes me a bit insane) or if the manipulation is as far as we're getting with these two. Thank you for writing!!!

I'm gonna stick this one under a read more since this is the kind of plot point I don't mind spoiling, but that some readers might not want to have spoiled.

EDIT: this sure is a hell of a post for tumblr's "move the read more down one paragraph before posting without telling you" bug to kick in. Fixed.

Powers is gonna pop back in and out of the plot for the rest of the fic, the fake dating will continue, and it's possible they might hook up more than once idk yet that's the kind of minor detail that's too far out for me to have plotted yet; but, the emotions are gonna be pretty much one-sided.

Bill does find a few things he actually likes about Powers (he appreciates a human who yearns to Solve The Mysteries), but in the grand scheme of things, it's like finding a gold watch in a parking lot. It doesn't make you wanna buy the whole parking lot. To Bill, Powers has more dealbreakers than positive traits. (Like... working for the government, for starters.)

And he'll be quite happy to hook up with him, but not due to any attraction to Powers himself; Bill's just turned on by other people being attracted to him. Powers is a warm body that offers Bill attention and physical pleasure, and 90% of the time attention & pleasure is all Bill wants out of people. (The other 10% of the time he wants a portal.)

So there's gonna be like... a cold-hearted femme fatale vs naive rival spy type dynamic here. There's some kinda tension, it gets steamy, but plot twist the femme fatale felt nothing for the spy the whole time. Except it's not a plot twist because we're following Bill's POV instead of Powers's so it's not a surprise.

Ford knows Bill too well to be jealous over somebody Bill's manipulating; and he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who gets jealous over physical intimacy. Bill could bang half the town and Ford wouldn't get jealous until he hears that Bill's been helping someone out on their quantum physics doctoral thesis. He maybe gets jealous over emotional intimacy, but he definitely gets jealous over intellectual intimacy.

(Like,, the one time in the fic so far that he's gotten jealous—not even in a romantic sense, just in general!—is when he saw Bill playing chess with Mabel. Bill playing chess with a kid gets Ford more jealous than Bill banging an utterly smitten suitor and that tells you everything you need to know about Ford's priorities.)

If anything, he actually pities Powers because he knows the guy's getting used and doesn't deserve it.

There is someone else later on that Ford might be getting jealous of (depending on what order events end up happening in—i.e., whether it's still going on AND whether Ford knows about it once his emotions start to turn), but that character hasn't been introduced yet.

There's also someone Bill might be getting jealous of depending on whether I find a way to work them into the plot. I hope I do, I've got a couple killer scenes in mind for them.

[transformers-spike]

Back at it with sparkling brain rot

Soundwave's cryptid daughter is mostly well behaved but has a playful/mean streak and likes to play pranks. When she gets fed up with Knockout and Starscream she will play Megatron's voice to jump scare them which works every time. She will also play different bots voices to deceive the vehicons and even her parents (only sometimes works on them) when getting in to things she's not supposed to. When she's mad at Soundwave she plays her Mom's scolding voice. Megatron knows all about it and feels like he should be mad but can't find it in himself as after all it's Soundwave's sparkling and watching her put the fear of Primus into Starscream and other mechs is too delightful.

"STARSCREAM!"

Megatron's booming voice coming from out of the blue is enough to jolt Knockout and Breakdown from their conversation.

"Hungry."

Even though it might not have been their designations shouted, both bots look thoroughly shaken.

"Right, of course. Here you go, two rust sticks for my favorite patient."

Dreadwing probably has the most respectful sparkling. Always cleans up after playing with his toys and doesn't make a mess drinking his energon. Aside from just generally being one of the most noble decepticons Dreadwing being a split spark has a strict sense of fairness from growing up with his brother and passed that to his sparkling (you know the meme of siblings measuring cookies portions to make sure they're even). Doesn't tolerate the other Sparklings bullying each other or Cheating in games.

"Love, care to tell me why Starscream says you hit his daughter?"

"THAT'S BECAUSE SHE'S A CHEATER AND KEPT EATING MY CHESS PIECES!"

Breakdown's sparkling is honestly just a good normal kid. She might be made of metal and the bulkiest sparkling but she likes Saturday morning cartoons and roughhousing with her friends. Breakdown is vert attentive and protective of her. When she's old enough they go mud bogging together.

"BLUEY!!!BINGO!!!"

I feel like with Shockwave there would be a ton of kids in the name of science. Predaking either carries them in his mouth like a mama gator or on his back like a mother opossum. They'd mostly rather play among each other but sometimes accept the other sparklings. Despite the fact that they range from different shades of purple and pink outsiders have trouble telling them apart and discerning of many of them there really are.

"How can you tell them apart?"

"Oh, easy that one's a-12, that's a-3 over there, this is one is c-4, etc..."

Some shitposty part of me wants to think all of the kiddies share the same mom, except they're all born weirdly (idk extra small like she's carrying a litter of sparklings). The birth wasn't excruciating, just took longer because there were so many. Idk if it was all of them at the same time or like multiple pregnancies Soundwave's kid is so fucking adorable - I'm even tempted to say she can probably breakup fights with her tendrils, and she's been caught occasionally stealing treats using them (with the other sparklings cheering her on) I love how you're hinting that Skyquake and Dreadwing used to beef over portion sizes. Dreadwing's kid is just a mini him, same serious expression, just small and extra cute. Honestly him losing his mind over Starscream's kid eating his chess pieces is uifehiefiuefufe - what the fuck is wrong with her??t??? I want to say he's a momma's boy who likes being carried around and cuddled. Don't worry, Dreadwing's also there, he's just overprotective of his spawn and he cannot drop the serious act for even a second. The type of parent to speak to his newborn like he would an adult. He's trying his best Breakdown must be used to taking his kid and KO's son for outings. They're chatterboxes when they're together and they both laugh at his horrible dad jokes. When KO's exhausted he looks after his kids (or well, at least his son) - because KO's daughter wants to hangout in clean spaces with her dad. Damn the reader had a separate pregnancy just with Shockwave's kids at this point. Predaking is honestly very happy caring for his extra small siblings, and he's very careful not to crush them. Honestly he's a better dad than Shockwave lol. Also, if you wake them up, a bunch of tiny red optics open up in the total darkness. Feels like a horror movie

[buckysgrace]

Sugar and Spice

Steve Harrington x pregnant!reader

You and Steve try and bake one of your cravings when he burns himself.

"It sounds so good," you whined as you stretched out over him, hand pressed across your stomach to keep the fluttering inside you at bay, "don't you think?" Your gaze snapped towards Steve, whose legs were tangled with yours. He cocked his eyebrows, brown eyes drifting back towards your features and away from the western that was playing.

"Do you know how to make it?" He asked as he continued to dig his fingers into your feet, making you sigh softly at how relaxing it felt. They had swollen up like balloons, now matching the rest of you.

"It's just cake," you reasoned with a little grin, "except we bake it backwards." You told him with a firm nod of your head, sure that was what it consisted of. Your sweet tooth had grown within the last month of your pregnancy, making anything sugary sound incredible to you. Currently, you were desperate for a taste of some pineapple upside down cake.

"What does that mean?" He asked as his features contorted into pleasure. You huffed dramatically, trying to think of how to explain it correctly.

"Like you put the pineapples and cherry at the bottom of the pan," you explained as you used your free hand to speak, "and on top of that you put the cake stuff." You smiled as you settled it all together, watching the way his eyebrows raised as he nodded his head slowly.

"The cake stuff." He repeated as he squeezed at your ankles, releasing as you slowly began to swing your legs off of him. You struggled from a moment, still forgetting how heavy the bump attached to you could be.

"Precisely," you said with a nod of your head, "and don't make fun of my wandering words. That's your fault." You pointed towards him playfully, taking a deep breath as you gripped the back of the couch and the arm rest, slowly beginning to push yourself up.

"M'sorry," he said sweetly, like curling into a soft smile, "so we're having cake for dinner?" He asked as he sat up far faster than you, placing a hand against your back and your waist to push you the rest of the way up.

"Maybe ice cream too," you stated as you gave yourself a second to catch your breath, shaking your head before you wobbled towards the kitchen, "I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

"Sounds delicious," he teased as he followed behind you, his hands brushing against your sides as you began to search for what you needed, "I'll get the pans." He suggested, glancing at you before he stepped forward. You were sure it had to do with the pants being so low to the ground, and how last time you nearly got stuck in a squatting position.

You worked on getting the cans of fruit out of the pantry, proud of yourself for getting that earlier in the week. You used the can opener as Steve spread some shortening across the bottom of the pan. You watched him work as you pressed the can of pineapples up to your lips, taking a large sip.

"At least it's not pepperoncini's this time," he grinned as he turned towards you, making your features turn into a scowl, "even though that was pretty funny."

"It hurt my tummy," you mumbled as you set the pineapples down, watching as he scooped them out and set them neatly across the pan, "or his tummy." You replied a second later as you placed your hand across your tummy, hoping this meant that your baby wouldn't be a picky eater.

You opened the jar of cherries as he continued to spread them out, draining the pineapples a few seconds before he tossed it down. You hadn't suffered much with morning sickness or nausea, but you had been facing severe heartburn this whole time. And you were huge. It only made you slightly nervous to think about how big the baby would be.

"You know the cherries are supposed to go in the pan." He teased as he glanced towards you, holding his hand out as he waited for you to pass them along.

"I'm well aware." You told him as you took another handful, unable to help yourself. This baby had certainly turned you into a pig, but you could blame that on Steve too.

"Can I see them then?" He asked as he wiggled his fingers at you, making you pretend to think before you slowly handed it towards him.

"Oh, alright," you grinned as you stood at his side, wrapping your arm around his waist as you watched the way he dropped a mess of cherries across the pan, "you can use all of them." You admitted as you pressed your lips together, biting back your own laughter.

"At least we know he'll like fruit." He reasoned as he did what you said, dropping the cherries all across the pan. You thought about it for a moment.

"With lots of sugar," you responded as you crinkled your nose up, smiling as you met his amused eyes. You could see the green poking out as the sunlight drifted across his pretty features, "sweet, just like you." You teased as you brushed your finger across the curve of his nose, making him snort as his cheeks grew pink.

"How do we make the cake part?" He asked instead, brushing your compliment off. You shrugged your shoulders as you walked away, knowing that you'd bother him about it later. You thought it was cute that he grew almost bashful at times.

"From the box," you replied as you dragged the yellow cake mix out from the back of the pantry, "Quicker and easier." You reasoned as you nodded your head, watching as he squinted to look at it. You had been bothering him about getting glasses for a while, but he was adamant that he didn't need them.

"Works with me," he responded as he took it from you, reading the instructions as he opened the top of the box, "can you get some eggs?" He asked as you waddled your way back to the fridge.

"How many?" You asked as you popped the door open, pausing to rub at your lower stomach as the fluttering inside of you grew. You were surprised that you weren't bruised from how much you were kicked.

"Two of them." He mumbled from across the way, distracted as he measured the oil out. You slowly bent over to grab the eggs, carefully holding them in your hands as you walked back to him.

He quietly thanked you as he began to mix everything together in a bowl, his free hand reaching forward to set the time on the oven. You stretched out, careful to avoid hitting your bump against the counter as you pulled the brown sugar down.

"What's that for?" He asked as he looked at you, then squinted back at the words on the box as if he had forgotten something. You giggled at how cute he looked, biting own on your bottom lip gently.

"We put it over the fruit," you responded, "I think so anyway." You shrugged as you tried to recall what the syrupy sweetness in the cake was, predicting what it could be.

"Alright," he shrugged his shoulders, leaning over your shoulder to watch you dump it on top, "should we spread it out?" He laughed as he slowly began to do just that.

"Probably." You grinned as you dug your hands in with him, getting sugar all over your hands. He smiled as he pulled away, dragging his large hands across your cheeks as you gaped at him.

"You did not just do that." You froze as you felt the sugar dripping off of your cheeks, eyes wide as you turned towards him in disbelief. He was wearing a cheeky grin, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I did," he apologized as he leaned forward, sticking his tongue out to lick part of it away, "my bad." He grinned as you gasped once again, shaking your head as you waddled over to the sink.

"That's a very rude way to treat the mother of your baby," you teased as you scrubbed your face and hands clean, glancing back at him as he handed you a towel, "ok, you're forgiven." You added a second later, easily swayed with him.

And it was hard not to be. He was the sweetest, even though your face still felt sticky with sugar. As the timer for the cake ticked down, he fussed over you. Like usual. Before you used to protest, reminding him that you weren't fragile just because you were pregnant. But now you didn't mind, you enjoyed it quite a bit actually. It made you feel special.

"Three more weeks," he added as he placed his head on your lap, allowing you to gently play with his messy strands, "are you excited?" He asked as he turned towards you, leaving you to gently trace the moles on his face.

"I am," you hummed softly as you traced your thumb across his lip, heart hammering at the way he looked at you, "I hope he looks just like you too." You told him truthfully, pressing your thumb against the corner of his lips as his smile grew. He didn't get time to respond before you both jumped, startled by the sound of the timer in the kitchen going off.

"I'll get it," he told you quickly as you tried to get back up again, feeling like you sunk further into the cushions instead as the timer went off, "don't worry about it." He laughed as he kissed the top of your head, making you giggle.

You traced your fingers over your stomach once again as you thought about your words, truly hoping that your little boy would resemble him. At least if he had his eyes, you'd be happy then.

"Shit!" You jumped up this time, eyes widening as you rushed towards the kitchen. You had just enough time to see him accidentally bump his hand against the hot stove racks, face contorted into pain as he quickly tossed the pan onto the top of the oven.

"Oh!" you shouted back, taken aback as he waved his hand back and forth in the air, "cold water! Run water over it." You said quickly as you turned the water towards the cool side, gripping his wrist softly as he placed his hand under the stream.

"Damn it," he sighed as he closed his eyes, shaking his head, "I don't know why I did that." He shook his head, looking frustrated with himself.

"It happens," you cooed softly as you brushed your fingers across his wrist gently, "don't worry about it. Does it hurt?" You asked him softly, feeling like it was a dumb question. It looked like it was painful.

"A little." He mumbled softly, glancing at his hand before he looked back towards you. You pouted your lips out, feeling bad for him.

"I'll get a band-aid and some cream," you said quickly, slowly releasing your grip from his hand but ensuring that he kept it under the water, "don't move." You demanded as you wagged a finger at him again, watching as he nodded his head in agreement.

"I won't." He promised as he glanced back towards you. You waddled your way through the house, stopping at the first bathroom to search for the little first aid kit you had slowly created.

You quickly gathered up the items that you needed, taking a few different sized band-aids with you as you weren't sure just how big his wound would be. You only hoped it wouldn't blister, as that always made it worse in your opinion.

"Here," you hummed gently as you gently patted his hand dry, frowning as you looked at the gash along the side of his palm. It was about half the size of your thumb length wise, but it didn't appear to be too thick, "poor baby." You cooed as you began to dab cream along his wound.

"It was dumb." He replied as he stood close to you, resting his cheek against your head. You inspected his hand for a moment, letting the cream soak into his skin before you bandaged him up.

"Happens to the best of us," you responded, pausing for a second to hold up your hand. There was a little scar along two of your knuckles, one that you showed off proudly, "I grabbed a curling iron the wrong way when I was little. I learned that day."

"Awe," he smiled as he held your hand delicately with his long fingers, squeezing your skin softly before he brought your hand up to your lips, "I bet that hurt." He hummed as he kissed your hand gently, eyes softening as you scoffed playfully.

"It did, lover boy," you teased as you pulled your hand away gently, working on getting him bandaged up, "it didn't look as bad as this though." You admitted, glancing towards him to make sure that you weren't accidentally hurting him. He didn't whine nor complain, nor did his features tense up like it was bothering him.

"Not my worst injury." He said a second later, giving his shoulders a little shrug as you slowly nodded along. You'd seen many of his marks and had spent much more time kissing them. They were apart of him, lovely.

"I guess so," you smiled as you gently kissed the bandage, not wanting to hurt him, "thank you for making me cake." You praised him as you brushed your cheek against the healed part of his hand, making his grin grow on his lips.

"You're welcome," he replied as he dipped down to kiss your nose, "I'm happy to help."

[thegreatyin]

so.

st erzulie's candle, huh?

caeru enters the nadir hot on the heels of mangling his destiny into that of a most tormentous end, with most of his loved ones at this point either discarded or outright abandoned in favor of his patron. he has nothing left to do. nothing left to live for. nothing left to stave off his fate.

it's... an odd sensation, plunging into irrigo depths, and not just because of the color's nature.

he just. well.

he thought he'd be more excited to end it all. right now all he feels is emptiness and regret.

no matter. he's far too deep to turn back now.

fittingly, i drew the QUEEN OF INKS card on my very first try. no surprise, given it's ubiquitous frequency.

st erzulie is a special candle. it doesn't require much. SMEN 42 and st destin's, sure, but beyond that? you can reach it pretty easily. unlocking the nadir in normal gameplay is arguably harder than this...

...for the most part. everyone who's so much as browsed the SMEN walkthrough on the wiki knows there's a very important, very special catch.

lilac (or what remains of her) says it best. you've given up your past and your present, and now? now it's time to give up your future. mr eaten doesn't do sacrifices by halves, after all.

it starts out innocent enough. give up your tattoo- special extra 1-2 points of BDR that you can (ironically) only obtain during the current festival. it's a small thing. a negligible thing. sure, losing out on free stuff sucks, but it's not like it's anything too irreplaceable.

except after that it gets worse.

sacrifice your profession- weekly payouts, professional activities, tools of the trade, all of that down the drain. an objective and irrecoverable loss.

sacrifice your notability- no more unsigned messages, no more t3 lodgings, no more PoSI upgrades, no more railway, period. everyone who's ever had to deal with the horrors of fallen london's midgame making waves grind knows just how much this is both a blessing and a curse. mostly the latter. especially the latter.

sacrifice your ambition- this is a central part of most FLPCs! arguably the "main story questline" for the entire game! textually, it's the reason your character came to the neath to begin with! and it's all gone! forever!!!!

all of it is gone. forever.

the only negligible things are the enigma and destiny sacrifices- enigma is an obscure developer commentary easter egg that isn't really worth playing or keeping to begin with, and while losing your destiny sucks- especially if you had an advanced destiny from irem- it's nothing that isn't already faced by the player when choosing to take the torment destiny required for st destin's candle. or there's the slowcake route, i guess, if you really want to take vengeance on the guy.

from both a gameplay and story perspective, i adore this. it's an excellent way to look the player in the eye and ask them if they really want to commit to this road. it's practically an embodiment of SMEN's themes and role as a journey of purposeful self-annihilation- it hurts! obscurity fucking hurts! if you've built up an endgame account across months and months of dedicated time and energy, it hurts to throw that all away just for one measly item that doesn't even have a purpose beyond accelerating your character's demise!

except, there's, uh,

there's one very important thing about st erzulie i've purposefully neglected to mention so far. one very important, very crucial detail that flips the entire tone and context of this choice on its head.

you don't actually need to do any of that.

the game presents you with one option- the horrible bane that is obscurity- and then simultaneously hands you a get-out-of-jail-free card that does exactly what it says on the tin. you can get this candle for free. there is no debilitating cost. all you need to do is click the button and throw your dignity away.

i've had a good bit of time to think about this, and even now, i'm still really mixed about this choice. on one hand, this undermines the entire point of the candle and what it represents. on the other hand, it's a legitimately good deal, and i love the concept of a game option where the only consequence is having to live with and know your own sins. it's like if undertale let you do the entire no mercy route, but implemented a skip button that lets you ignore having to fight sans. do you really value convenience over your own conscience? is ending the game still an achievement to be valued if you didn't actually work for it? if you play something with cheat codes on, is that any more or less legitimate than actually playing the game for real?

i suppose it all ties back into the nature of post-rework SMEN- the version that currently exists in fallen london and is freely available as we speak- compared to pre-rework SMEN, the version that is forever lost to the sands of time. i've heard it said that if pre-rework SMEN gleefully stabs you with a dirty knife and leaves you to rot, its post-rework incarnation simply hands you the knife and politely invites you to stab yourself with it. it's the difference between being a straight-up masochist and having to decide whether or not you're a straight-up coward. both have their virtues and their vices, but one is very much different than the other.

and as for what i picked, ahahaha, well,

i'm afraid i'm a coward. i have my own reasons for taking the easy way out, but i'm a coward nonetheless. i'm a coward any and every day of the week.

i think, ultimately, i would prefer if this choice didn't exist, even if i took it and i respect the intention behind it. forcing the player to willingly embrace obscurity and all its horrors is a lot more closely-aligned with SMEN's overall themes and narrative than this free bypass key that suddenly gets meta about the sins crawling down your back. is it really hypocritical to think that whilst gleefully hammering this skip button with my grubby little paws? yes. do i think it anyway? also yes.

(that's not to say it doesn't have its worth, of course, or that everyone else who took it is wrong for doing so- or even that they're wrong for liking it!! it's just my own preference. i just want post-rework SMEN to be meaner. and maybe slightly less prone to making me ramble for several dozen paragraphs about its features.)

melodramatic ramblings about the nature of SMEN's game design aside, the text here is beautiful and absolutely iconic. huge ffxiv dark knight questline vibes. that, for the record, is a compliment.

"i love you. you imagined me. what else could i do but love you?"

i just. aughhh. it's so good. it's so lovely. i don't have any more rambling in me, nor am i really confident in my ability to dissect how and why this line makes me run in circles like a rabid dog, i'm just foaming at the mouth and desperately in need of a gun to the head about it.

and with all of that exhaustively said, only two candles remain before the end of my seeking journey!!!!!!! by the time this post goes live, caeru will have already set out to the chapel of lights in search of the 6th candle, st fortigan- you'll all probably see that post come sometime later this week.

after that, naturally, awaits st gawain. and after that awaits nothing at all.

he doesn't want to doubt. he can't afford to doubt. he can't let himself doubt. if he doubts, if he turns back- what's even the point? what even waits for him if he comes home after all this time?

and yet. and yet.

it goes without saying at this point, but since this post is so long and so rambley- at the risk of sounding like an old-timey kids show broadcast channel- i'd just like to take the time to thank all y'all for reading and (even tangentially) following my FL adventures. they've come to mean a lot to me over the year (singular), and i earnestly hope they mean something to y'all too.

i can't wait to cut off my sad twink's head (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

[rei-ismyname]

Magneto kneels to Cyclops

All of Utopia is having a funeral when long time frenemy and the most dramatic man in the world arrives. He's contrite and even polite to everyone not named Charles Xavier. Magneto is here to see Scott.

Scott orders everyone to attack (and I love that they have Magneto tactics, but only one kind? Should be Magneto protocol 37B or something) so Mags immediately takes his helmet off as a show of good faith. 'My sword at your feet' - the action of a beaten enemy or a vassal to a ruler.

Chuck gets his Admiral Ackbar on, interestingly while using his powers. It wasn't a trap; does that mean Chuck was lying? Did he know that Mags was here to replace him, to push him further down the totem pole of importance? He's particularly stubborn here, insisting that Magneto is 'rotten to the core.' Mags ends up being very close to Scott and, aside from a few secret murders, a valued member of the team.

Magneto refuses to fight and Scott wants to hear him out.

I don't know if this is some secret code word that sets Chuck off, but Magneto plays him like a fiddle. 'This thing of ours' is a mafia reference lol, and they make it sound gay as hell. Chuck pushes back on the idea that the world doesn't revolve around the loser husbands. His attack looked like it hurt - I wonder where it was on a scale from 1 to holocaust beam. He utterly fails to keep his cool and looks like a fool very publicly. Mags is certainly saying what Scott wants to hear, but he does end up walking the walk.

I'm inclined to think that Chuck's authority and ego being threatened are at least factors. He's definitely accustomed to being the unquested leader except he's not that anymore. He was dead for a while and he burned a lot of bridges with his unethical telepathy. Scott very clearly orders him to stand down but is ignored. His condescension isn't convincing anyone.

Except for his refusal to fight, every word he's said has been to Scott. Sure, he's playing to the crowd like the dramatic bitch he is, but he knows who's in charge here. It's why he's here. It's a pretty impressive display, too, as he compliments Scott while bending his ancient knees.

He can't help himself but to paraphrase Shakespeare, inverting Antony's declaration of ill intent from Julius Caesar. Look at Chuck frowning in the background, lol.

Chuck still isn't convinced or silent, standing next to Beast who probably agrees (and is the first to bail on the oddly named Utopia.) Scott has had enough of loser husband drama and Xavier specifically, so he definitively shuts him up. Scott has Psylocke on standby to kill Mags (but moreso to reassert his authority) and so he lifts him to his feet to talk privately. Chuck sulks up a storm and is probably super embarrassed. He definitely should be.

In a more private setting Magneto elaborates on his position - mutants are fucked and the torch has passed to Scott. Scott emphatically disagrees with the first but doesn't deny the second. He certainly doesn't trust Mags, but he's willing to give him a shot. This is a fascinating time for everyone especially in terms of power structures. I'll cover Magneto's face turn and evolution into Scott's right hand in future posts, hopefully ones not drawn by Greg Land. For someone who traces porn he manages to make a tense loser husband moment feel unsexy.

[pompomnium]

I recently finished reading the final volume of Scarlett and Browne. I can't talk about it without spoiling the part I want to talk about. I'll mention that in a postscript (i.e., there are spoilers, so be careful). I read it using a translator, so I'm sure there are many parts I don't understand well. Still, I am generally satisfied with the book, except for a few parts! It was a pleasure to witness this wonderful final installment.

The part I was least satisfied with was the ending. It wasn’t bad at all, but I really wanted it to end with Scarlett and Albert's conversation! Since it ended from Thomas’s perspective, his impression inevitably became the strongest at the end.

If possible, I would have loved for it to end with Scarlett and Albert having a conversation like, 'Where should we go next?' 'Anywhere, as long as I'm with you.' Or I strongly wished it would end with the crowd stirring, shouting things like, 'Who are they!?' 'Hey, don’t you know? It’s Scarlett and Browne!'—marking the beginning of a new adventure. And at the very end, I wanted a big 'THE LEGENDARY SCARLETT AND BROWNE' to appear on the screen. Of course, this is just one of my personal wishes.

Well, to be honest, that’s about it. It’s not like I was extremely dissatisfied or anything. There were some parts I wanted to know more about, but aside from that, I was satisfied.

For example, Mallory! I already liked him from the start (he kind of reminds me of Nat), but this time, I grew to like him even more. Despite being so strong, he was completely powerless—just like Albert in the first book. But that’s what made him so endearing. The scene where he regained his power thanks to Ettie was also really great. Just as Albert was able to control his power through his connection with Scarlett, Mallory regained his power through his connection with Ettie.

The duo of Scarlett and Mallory was great too—the way they weren’t cooperative at all. Just like Bartimaeus and Nathaniel, I really love that kind of uncooperative buddy dynamic.

Also, my impression of Thomas changed quite a bit. I had imagined him as a younger, softer, and more adorable little brother, but he is undoubtedly Scarlett’s brother. His facial features are probably quite similar to hers as well. Definitely.

And of course, Scarlett and Albert too. There’s no doubt that their bond is deep. I thought that if it were Stroud, he might have separated them by death, but I’m glad that didn’t happen. 'Need some company?' 'Always.' That scene was exactly what I wanted to see the most.

In the previous book, I was worried about how dependent Albert was on Scarlett, but in this one, I was glad to see him thinking and acting for himself (even though he did some pretty extreme things).

Also, since Albert’s sense of morality is a bit precarious, I’m glad that he and Scarlett didn’t claim to be heroes of justice. I think they should just live as they choose, and let the world judge them as justice or evil however it wants. There’s no need to wave the banner of justice in order to do the right thing.

It is possible that I am just missing something, so I may have a completely different impression when it is translated into Japanese.

These are my impressions of the above in a light summary. I would like to get the meaning in more detail, so I hope it will be translated into my native language soon. I will be working on Scarlett and Browne's manga for a while, so I will be uploading artworks less frequently. Thank you very much for reading this far.

[writtenjewels]

Make Something Happen

Jason felt raw, like he'd cracked himself open and let all his mess spill out on the floor. Once he started talking, he couldn't seem to stop. It all came out: the girl at the checkpoint, the true reason he signed up, what he was doing when the towers were hit. He never told anyone those truths, never let them see the pain of his choices.

It didn't make sense for him to do so now, with an enemy soldier, no less. Except there was something about Salim that made him feel safe. Even now, exposed and vulnerable, he was secure in that safety.

“I don't know what the fuck I'm doin' here,” he confessed.

“You're serving your country,” Salim reminded him.

“Yeah?” Jason snorted, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Looks to me like I'm standing in a goddamn hole in the ground.” Salim let out a surprised laugh, immediately turning sheepish as the noise echoed in the strange chamber. Jason's lip curved up into something more like a smile.

“You're terrible,” Salim chided him, “but it's good to see you smiling.”

“I wasn't,” Jason denied, letting his lip drop.

“Oh, but you were.” Salim poked him in the cheek. “Here I was, worried that those muscles didn't work.” Jason batted him away but could feel his stupid mouth twitching. Salim's own smile grew wider, his eyes shining in triumph. “There it is again.” He touched Jason's other cheek with his thumb, caressing near the corner of Jason's mouth.

And now his stupid heart was beating a little faster. He just aired out his worst laundry with this man, and instead of being disgusted, Salim was teasing him. He looked at Jason and fucking smiled. Jason felt emotion bubble up inside his throat, and he tried to swallow around it.

He didn't know how it happened, but he was suddenly a lot closer to Salim. He was sliding his eyes shut, his lips slotting up against the other man's. For about three seconds, there was nothing but delicious heat running through his veins. Then Jason snapped back to reality and he jerked away.

“Fuck! What the fuck!” His brain scrambled trying to understand what he just did. If sharing the worst of himself made no sense, this was toeing the line of insanity. “Fuck, I didn't... I didn't...” He couldn't even think of the words.

Salim's hands were suddenly cradling his face, the man leaning into him. Salim kissed him, blanking out Jason's panicked words. Salim's lips were almost feverish as they worked against Jason's, betraying a desperate hunger. Jason's response was an instinct to match him heat for heat. He didn't know how long it lasted before they were forced to come up for air.

They stood there, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed, their lips swollen from the kisses.

“We shouldn't wait for something to happen,” Salim told him. “We should make something happen. Go there and find a way to hurt them.”

It took a moment for Jason's thoughts to cohere. Make something happen. Well, they sure as fuck did that. Jason's mouth cracked into a smile.

“Start believin', Salim. We're gonna get out of here and see the sun again.”

“You truly believe that?” Salim questioned him.

“Oorah!” Jason answered with as much gusto as he could.

And when they did, maybe they would make something happen again.

[canmom]

it was a matter of time but pure-generative-AI animation has progressed to the point of looking 'not utterly shit'.

it's obvs a blatant ghibli pastiche, there's sometimes e.g. some inconsistent spacing (the leg on the walking cat for example) that I would criticise in a human animator, but the level of spatial and temporal coherence is much, much higher than it was before and it basically 'feels like' human animation, or at least a lot closer to it, than previous efforts that I've seen.

the process used involves a lot of 'human in the feedback loop' iteration - the artist used one generative model to produce still shots, and a second generative model to produce animations out of them, and additional generative models to get foley and music - but this was done in a weekend, compared to the weeks of work (months if you include preproduction) by experienced experts that it would take to produce comparable animation by the traditional techniques. the video generation is controlled by a text description of what you want to happen in the shot, but it doesn't seem like there is much fine-grained control over the details here.

traditional animation is a thoroughly collaborative process (unless you're Don Hertzfeldt), it takes large teams, and generally speaking only functions at all in the modern world by outsourcing large parts of the labour to countries where the cost of living is lower. the most celebrated (and higher-paid) roles in the process tend to be roles like storyboarding and key animation, where artistic choice is highest. animation lore is full of frustration from artists at this end of the pipeline, about the intent of a cut being lost through rushed or thoughtless inbetweening and compositing.

although image generation competes with this 'planning' stage, its unpredictability and lack of a connection to a 'personality' means I think that direction and key animation will still be a thing in animation to come. I'm less sure about inbetweening. current techniques for AI gen aren't there yet, but it doesn't seem to be far off the point where we can give an AI some keyframes and have it generate a reasonably convincing path between them, taking over the roles of cleanup, inbetweening, and compositing.

I doubt it will stop here either. the question will be how amenable it is to artistic control. for making an impressive-looking non-narrative twitter video you can just take a few generations that look good and staple them together, but these tools will only be useful for filmmaking if they can maintain consistency of character designs and respond reasonably to tweaking, without having cumbersome text input.

at the demoscene event this weekend, I was struck by how, as much as there is plenty of excitement about exploring new techniques, there was perhaps even more work being produced in the 'old school'/'mid school' categories targeting machines like the Commodore 64, Amiga, BBC Micro, or even modern low-level fantasy consoles like the TIC-80. new techniques are still being discovered for C64 demos, despite the hardware being decades old and no longer produced, and oldschool demos are still being made and appreciated by an audience who didn't necessarily grow up with the tech. not to mention the fact that we still draw and paint as furiously as ever.

art and medium are intimately connected; knowing how someone made something is a huge part of the context I bring to interpret it. so I don't fear that nobody will ever want to produce animation anymore.

but a demo is something that can be produced by a solo coder and generally not done for money. animation is produced in a variety of ways - there is a strong subculture of solo or small-team independent animators - but animated films are rarely made except by a whole studio working full time. I'm not sure how AI is going to affect that whole economic structure, and affect the future of this medium I love, but it's getting much closer to the day that we find out.