#fourteen people is objectively too many to tag so we stopped at 6

[firstelevens]

last line meme

tagged by: my dearest @ankahikoibaat

tagging: @birdhapley @philtstone @sonseulsoleil @bhavvyyy @avocadomooon @compactpersian @romansuzume

rules: Write the latest line from your WIP and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.

Mrs. Meltzer down the hall called his blintzes perfect, which Bucky will be wearing as a badge of honor for the rest of his natural life.

[fragiledewdrop]

11 Questions

Rules: Always Post the rules. Answer 11 questions, then make up 11 new ones and tag 11 people. Inform the person who tagged you that you answered their questions.

Tagged by @procasdeanating . You are so right, we used to do this a lot! It brings back fond memories. Thank you.

Okay,I’ll try to put as much spn as I can in my answers, but I have been reading mostly works in other fandoms as of late, so be prepared for a bit of everything.

1. Favorite fic you read this year?

Definitely  Keeping You in Sight by  gingerswag , which I had been following since the beginning. It’s a slave fic, but focuses mostly on the recovery and the consequences of the abuse. I love it to pieces and will keep hoping for a sequel. Check it out, you won’t regret it (read the tags and triggers, though).

Outside the supernatural fandom, the best was without a doubt  Finding a Voice by Roselightfairy , my absolute favourite legolas/gimly story EVER (and that’s saying something)

Also shout out to  don't you dare by LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch , aka the silverflinthamilton precious black pearl of a fic you wrote for my prompt and that I keep close to my heart. It’s beautiful.

2. First memorable romantic scene that comes to mind?

SPOILERS for “Keeping you in sight”

This might seem unconventional, but at the end of this story, former slave Dean Dean decides to leave Cas behind because he understand that learning to take care of himself, to be a person on his own, is the only way he can truly love Cas:

“Listen to me, Cas.”

Cas does.

“What I’m saying is…you can’t fix me by being nice to me for long enough, or in the right ways, or anything. There’s no cheat code. There’s no right answer. I’m screwed up, and I’m gonna be screwed up forever. I’m doing my best, but there’s always gonna be shit that makes me panic for no reason.”

He swallows.

“That’s why I have to go. I can’t be your responsibility. I’m not a child, or an animal, or a toy that needs to be put back together. As long as I’m your responsibility, I’m still yours. Every time I fuck up, every time I cry, every time I get scared, you’re gonna feel like it’s on you. And I’m gonna feel like an object, ‘cause even my screw ups are yours.”

He drops his hand from Cas’s mouth, knowing he’s not going to interrupt now.

“And as long as I stay, you’re never gonna admit to me when you’re upset or exhausted or pissed at me, because you know I’ll freak. Like right now. You couldn’t let yourself be even a little frustrated, because it was scaring me. And you won’t even admit…you’re pretending you’re fine with me leaving, because you think I’m so fucked up and desperate to please that I’ll change my mind if you admit that you want me to.”

Cas pulls away from him. Dean hadn’t realized how close together they’d been until they aren’t any more.

“Dean…”

“It’s not fair!” Dean insists. “You know it’s not. We have to be free to feel sad, and be angry, and make mistakes without worrying someone we love is going to kill themselves over it.”

His heart bounds in his chest, pumping everything he’s held inside of it into his bloodstream. He feels braver than he ever has.

He thinks about Sam, fourteen and falling apart under the pressure of holding Dean’s psyche together.

“Cas, we have to learn to take care of ourselves, ‘cause we can’t take care of each other. We gotta stop hanging our happiness on other people, and then falling to bits when they let us down. They didn’t ever agree to be the way we measure our own self worth.”

With the same certainty that he knows Cas would never keep him against his will, he knows that Cas does not have the strength to make him leave if he decides not to. He can hear it in the heartbreak trailing down Cas’s cheeks.

It’s not fair to expect him to have that strength. It’s not fair, and it’s not love.

Love is choice.

Love is knowing that you can lean on someone without losing the ability to stand on your own. Love is knowing you can lean on someone without them falling apart.

You can’t lean on a person you’re holding up.

Dean knows, then, that if he allows himself to fall apart now, allows himself to be swayed, that Cas will not have the strength to make him leave, but he will also never show himself to Dean again.

Cas is trusting him to stay solid, to stay real, to not disintegrate like a hologram at the first sign of weight. He’s allowing Dean to look at him, trusting that his true face won’t turn Dean into stone.

Dean isn’t going to let it.

He takes in the image of Cas, red-eyed, blotchy skin. Calmed, now, but with still hitching breath. He lets it ingrain itself in his mind.

“Cas, I’m in love with you.”

He’s surprised at how steady his voice sounds, and how solemn.

And so Dean leaves, and Cas lets him leave, even though they love each other. That love manifests itself in their respective efforts to become better people, for each other and for themselves. It takes so much strength and so much courage to love someone like this, to change yourself for the better despite your fear, to let someone go even though you want them near just because it’s what they want and it’s the right thing to do. More than that, this is  REAL, it rings true to me: not a big romantic gesture, but hundreds of small, day to day ones; something that is not built in a moment but through a lifetime. 

3. A line that you can’t forget?

Every Christmas I reread  A Winter's Tale by NorthernSparrow .  There is a line in it that has been my mantra for years:

Many of the trees in the stores have an angel at the top. Always with its wings spread wide. A symbol of that hope, perhaps? A hope that spring will come again?

It spoke to me deeply. I kept looking at the little angels on the tops of the conifer trees and I thought, I've fallen off the tree. I want to get back on the tree.

I WILL get back on the tree. I WILL survive this winter. The sun WILL come back; for me, and for everyone; somehow, someday.

Another one that I can’t seem to forget is this:

Where I am from, finiteness does not diminish the value and pursuit of things. Just because something will end does not mean it is any less worthy of love and effort. Like flowers and trees and lovely things that grow.

I wrote it down while reading months ago and keep thinking about it, but I can’t find the story it’s from. It should be a Glorfindel/Legolas fic on ff.net, which is not at all my usual fare, but it was lovely, and this tiny extratct has so much wisdom in it.

4. A writer who inspires you/had an impact on your own writing?

The anwer to this will always be @awed-frog . But recently also @roselightfairy

5. A fic that made you cry?

Listen, I cry at most fics, Okay? So I’ll tell you which one didn’t make me cry:  The Life of Death by yellowturtle . When I finished reading it I had trouble breathing and I had to go out for a walk to avoid collapsing in a heap and sobbing for days. I’ll never understand why this story isn’t more well known.

6. A new author you found and subscribed to on AO3/followed on tumblr?

@roselightfairy (great gigolas) and tothewillofthepeople (awesome Les Miserables fics)

7. A fic that you wish would get more recognition?

All the ones I have mentioned here.

8. If you could pitch a fic (one of your own if you’re writing) to be turned into a script for the show, which one would you choose?

Another weird answer, but  Torn by Misachan . It’s dark but I would love to see a) Cas hurt by the angels b) Sam and Dean taking care of Cas c) Dean’s protectiveness and d) Dean FINALLY bringing up his past as a torturer in hell to put the fear of himself into someone who deserves it.

As for my own fics, I would love for something like  The Gold-shackled Singer, or the story of Erasmus and Kallias to be part of the Captive Prince universe.

9. A cracky prompt for anyone who stumbles across this and wants to write it?

I am not really in the mood for crack, but maaaaybe Sam and Crowley trying to get Dean and Cas together for Reasons, while Crowly is jealous and Sam is done with all of them.

10. The story that never fails to make you smile.

The Apple Thieves by: Lindir's Ghost   

It’s funny and happy and warm and the reason I know how to make cobbler.

11. A fic that you would rec to people outside fandom?

Probably  The Sawdust Men by linoresearch 

MY QUESTIONS

I am in a nostalgic mood after the holidays, so let’s talk about memories and childhood.

1) What is your first memory, if you remember?

2)The first time you realized something big (good or bad) was going on in the world?

3) The first book you remember reading

4) First movie you loved/were obsessed with

5) Your favourite game as a child

6) Favourite food as a child

7) Favourite song

8) Favourite fairy tale, if you had one

9)Do you remember your first day of school?

10) A childhood adventure

11) What did you want to be when you grew up?

Tagging @procasdeanating , in keeping with tradition (fill free to respond to your own questions too ;) ; @nevernotlikelove ; @maryshelleey ; @vengefulnoob ; @awed-frog ; @justsomeonerandom17 ; @leeaneea ; @pod7et ; @snovolovac ; @vivianecarstairs ; @roselightfairy and whoever else wants in.

This is meant to be fun, so obviously do it only if you want to.

[resonantrequiem-blog]

6 then and I would totally reply to the message if i knew where it was

Battle Memes || Accepting

6. A drabble about the first time the muse killed someone.

@siren-legion

Since this is part of Ethan’s backstory, I figure I should tag you guys. ;D (Edit: Okay, I’ve revised it. Just some minor stuff. Please reblog the revised version.)

The older male standing before Ethan snorted, a withering glare being tossed with all too much ease as he stared him down.

“Are you seriously so stupid as to pick a fight with us, kid? Don’t you know who we are?”

Ethan cocked his head contemplatively, his crimson irises cold and calculating. In a voice that expressed no remorse, he offered, “A bunch of idiots?”

That had the ringleader of this stupid trio burning red with anger. It took all his effort not to snicker in amusement. Riling these “gang” types was all too easy when you were a “stupid” kid. Really, Ethan was only fourteen, but he’d always been smart and resourceful. Many, many street fights have taught him how to hold his own.

It’s not like the dumbasses could see the hard-earned muscle under his hoodie, though.

“You’re gonna pay for that, you little brat,” the ringleader growled, attempting to tower over him in an intimidating way. Another perk of being Ethan was his unusual height. He just seemed to grow and grow. And right now, he was practically matching the height of these—what? Twenty-something-year-old’s? They might be younger, not that he cared. But it made their tactics pretty useless on him.

As the group dispersed and moved to surround him, Ethan hummed a soft tune to himself, sliding into a sense of calm that only overtook him during fights. Unsurprisingly, one of the first to attack was a lackey, trying to catch him off guard from a supposed blind spot. 

Ethan slid out of the way all too easily.

Ethan couldn’t hold in his chuckle as the lackey looked at him with irritation. “Looks like you’re gonna have to try harder.”

And they did.

The three constantly switched from individual attacks to teaming up. Ethan slid out of the way of each blow with the grace of a dancer, thought it became increasingly difficult as they began to actually work as a team.

“C’mon, kid, you’re not gonna dodge all day, are you? Why don’t ya fight back a little?” taunted the ringleader. The brunet merely passed him a bored stare in response, as if to say, “Do I even need to?” 

That really pissed the guy off. 

With more fevered attacks on the way, Ethan was forced to become more creative with his dodges, as well as defending. He began leading members of the group into hitting each other, or running into objects. He’d even toss up dirt and dust to distract them, or even disable them temporarily by getting it in their eyes. 

Many would assume that his tall stature would make dodging in his easy way difficult, but somehow, Ethan managed. He supposed it was a result of all the fighting he did in his free time. He was nothing but a ball of anger and misery, and the best way to cope with and express it, he’s found, is by fighting.

With a grin, Ethan easily sidestepped another attempt at a punch, grabbing his assailant’s arm and pulling him forward, forcing him off-kilter and to the ground. He was literally eating dirt.

“Oops, sorry,” he whistled merrily, not at all sorry.

But in his merriment, Ethan had let his guard down, if only for a moment, and that was when the ringleader decided to strike.

By decking him in the face.

The male stumbled back a bit, his sense of balance temporarily lost. He swayed, but forced himself to regain composure fast enough to dodge a second blow. He could feel blood sliding down from one of his nostrils.

He laughed softly.

���I guess that means I have to get serious, haha.”

For the first time during the fight, Ethan moved into a fighting stance. It was undisciplined, but it was a stance that worked best for him. Once he’d settled on a plan, he moved.

He was fast.

Really fast.

He each attack was turned into a counterattack, a strike being used as an opening to strike back. He slammed bodies together, forcing the air out of them long enough for him to shove ‘em to the ground. They always tried getting back up, being persistent as they were. Not to mention that, despite his skill, he was still a kid. His blows weren’t as strong as he’d like.

Which is why he had to be smart.

Whipping out one of two items concealed in his pocket, Ethan went in to take out one of the lackeys. A successful feint left the older male open, and gave Ethan a clear shot for shooting his pepper spray right into the fucker’s eyes.

The main screamed in abject pain, recoiling and holding his eyes as if doing so would somehow remove the substance burning them. With him thoroughly distracted, Ethan used the opportunity to use the butt of his knife—his second concealed object—to knock the man out with a hard blow to the back of the head.

One down, two to go.

Both of the remaining men looked equally pissed off, now. After all, they’d been outsmarted by a kid, and their friend was just knocked unconscious by that same kid. Oh, how dare he! they must think. 

Ethan only smiled.

To his surprise, it was the ringleader who took the initiative, instead of letting his lackey wear him down. Perhaps he was more angry than the brunet initially thought.

They said nothing as they traded attacks, some hitting home, some missing them by the skin of their teeth, and some missing by a mile. Ethan was by far the one winning, no matter what the leader did. He was clearly trying to be just as clever as Ethan, even calling in his lackey to attempt some pretty nasty stuff. But alas, they were always blocked, dodged, or countered.

Eventually, the ringleader and his friend pulled out knives.

“Enough of this bullshit,” he growled. “You’re going to die.”

Ethan held his hands up in mock fear. “Oh, no! I’m so scared!”

It wasn’t a complete lie.

Ethan had never seen knife fights end without death. 

But even so, he pushed forward, using his resources to the best advantage he could grasp. The flurry of attacks became all the more important to dodge and counter now. One wrong move meant fatality.

One blade grazed his cheek.

Another, his arm.

One barely missed his stomach.

And another was just barely a hair’s breath from his throat.

He had to end this fast.

Taking the initiative, Ethan moved with every ounce of speed he had, pushing himself to move towards the ringleader. He was sure that if he could take him out, he’d win the fight.

The man thrust his knife forward, thinking Ethan would skewer himself on the blade. What a foolish mistake. With ease, Ethan leaned away, took hold of the man’s arm, and slammed his fist onto the elbow, forcing the man to let go of the knife as he reeled back in pain.

With little time to spare, Ethan did the only thing he could do to permanently keep the man down.

The thing that would keep him from calling back-up from his buddies and trying to get revenge.

The thing that would silence him forever.

Ethan equipped his knife, and with movements as fluid as water, slid it into the man’s gut.

Twisted.

The ringleader cried out in agony. Ethan didn’t stop there. The knife was removed, then replaced. Again and again. Then when he was sure his organs had been turned to mush, he moved to the chest, forcing the knife into where he was sure the lungs were with all his might.

He pushed and pushed.

And twisted.

It took Ethan a moment to realize they were both on the ground now, the man was slouched while Ethan crouched, and he was choking on his own blood.

And in that same moment, he noticed the lackey behind him trying to stab him. 

He had no time to remove the knife. It was too deep, and he was running low on stamina. He had to dodge.

Now.

Moving with what energy he had left, Ethan rolled to the side.

The lackey’s knife hit home in his own leader’s throat.

The shock of the action left the older male in a stupor, one that gave Ethan the chance to pick up the fallen knife of the ringleader and point it at his final attacker with menace.

“Tell anyone about this, and you’re dead.

“Try to get revenge on me, and you’re dead.

“If you so much as speak my name to anyone ever again, you can consider yourself fucking dead.

“You’ve seen what I can do. And I can only get stronger. Don’t give me anymore practice dummies. Got it?”

The man didn’t say anything.

No, he took one look at Ethan—scarlet-soaked, cold-eyed, demonic Ethan—and he ran.

Ethan sighed as he lowered his weapon. The thrill of battle had made his wounds numbed, but now, as his heart rate was beginning to slow, and his nerves were finally calming down, he could feel the ache and sting of every ailment he’d received.

He then turned back towards the body of the man he’d killed. He’s never killed anyone before. Hurt horribly? Yes. But killed? No. He knew it’d happen eventually, though. With his track record, death was bound to happen. It made him reflect on his life. On how death continually trailed after him.

First his dad, then his mom.

Now, this man.

And perhaps many more to come.

Maybe he was Death.

Maybe he was cursed to be the cause of death for anyone who was near him—be it friend or foe.

Which means his aunt would be next.

Perhaps a few more gang members.

And his classmates.

One by one…

Ethan shook his head, as if trying to remove the damned thoughts from his mind. He was no Death. He was just terribly unlucky. And this fool of a man had just gotten caught up in his bad luck.

Ethan took a moment to assess his appearance. He was drenched in blood, and he doubted he could exit an alleyway while looking like this and avoid having people call the cops. 

Looks like he’s gonna have to ask for some unwanted help.

Whipping out his phone, Ethan quickly dialed a number he’d memorized all too well. His aunt picked up on the first ring.

“Ah, hello, Ethan.”

“Aunt Cheryl… I kinda sorta fucked up.”

[patheticphallacy]

IT’S MAY Y’ALL. Even though I’ll still be doing blog posts in May, it’s not going to be as hectic, as I finally finished my second year of university and have decided to take it easy after a very packed April.

I’m also doing things a little different with my wrap up this month by getting rid of star ratings. I watched a video on it, and I just feel like I’d rather people go by my actual comments on the books than look at the rating and decide that covers all my thoughts. I still have star ratings on Goodreads for my own personal use, but I’m doing my best to start writing proper summaries of my thoughts from now on!

READING WRAP UP

  Tropic of Serpents by Marie Brennan– a solid follow up to the first book, although there’s a startling lack of dragons in a series about a dragon naturalist! Definitely go into this one expecting a lot more politics than book 1, and Isabella starting a lot of Drama.

The Elementals by Michael McDowell– such an amazing horror novel! McDowell is so underrated for a writer who wrote predominantly in the seventies and eighties, and it’s so tragic how young he died. 

Princess Jellyfish Volume 1 by Akiko Higashimura– such a disappointing read. It’s really problematic, to the point where it drastically impacted my enjoyment of the plot, especially when I’ve got so many other more recent manga I could be enjoying more than this. 

Fullmetal Alchemist Volume 8 by Hiromu Arakawa– speaking of next tier manga… holy shit. I am so scared of volume 9 and finishing this series, it’s meant so much to me and it’s really helped me immerse myself fully in reading manga. 

Lumberjanes Volume 9 by Shannon Watters– Barney is a precious precious bean and I love them! This is a roller derby volume, and it was pretty great: I’ve been a fan of roller derby since I first watched Whip It, and this volume was super entertaining!

Lumberjanes Volume 10 by Shannon Watters– wholesome volume where the parents come to visit their kids. I do feel really sad for Molly, but it was nice seeing everyone else’s parents! 

Lumberjanes: A Midsummer Night’s Scheme by Nicole Andelfinger– this was a fun bonus one shot comic. However, it does get very cheesy and it’s whole message is just so obvious  that them explaining it was very much unneeded. 

Smut Peddler Volume 1 by Various Authors– this is a fun anthology of smut comics that I super enjoyed reading. E.K. Weaver’s comic is by far my favourite, and it’s only after I realised that it was a one shot about a character in her webcomic! 

Rumple Buttercup BY Matthew Gray Gubler– a very cute children’s graphic novel about loving yourself and finding acceptance! 

Smut Peddler Volume 2 by Various Authors– this wasn’t as good as volume 1, but I still read it really quickly and had a fun time looking at the different art styles and methods of story telling!

Dream Daddy by Various Authors– there are so many good moments in this comic, it’s so great. Highly recommend if you’ve played the game, and if you haven’t, check it out, it’s real fun! Damien and Robert’s issue was by far my favourite as they were my favourites in the game too.

Tokyo Ghoul Volume 5 by Sui Ishida– finally, I’m starting to enjoy Tokyo Ghoul. It took a while this volume to actually understand what the hell was happening, but once I did, it really did become something I enjoyed.

Rick and Morty VS Dungeons and Dragons by Patrick Rothfuss– A decent enough read, although there is way too much dialogue and exposition on every page. The font is really small, too, so reading it was a hassle. 

Meddling Kids by Edgar Cantero– this book was actually terrible and I have a whole review discussing my issues and how harmful it is!

Jackass! Volume 1 by Scarlet Beriko– This is a funny, sweet manga about fetishes and blackmail. It has an age gap romance between an 18 year old and a doctor, and there is some transphobic bullying/weird treatment of bullying being okay if the person has a crush on you, but the main relationship is great, and the MC has a really lovely relationship with his older sister. 

Batwoman: Elegy by Greg Rucka– Chronicles the Alice Batwoman arc from Detective Comics, as well as giving the backstory for Kate. It’s so great having a badass DC hero who is a lesbian, whose storyline also touches on homophobia in the ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ era of the military. Glad I finally got to this!

Sparrowhawk #5 by Delilah S Dawson– a really disappointing series conclusion overall. I knew I should’ve just stopped reading after the first issue and I wasn’t feeling it, and I honestly wish I had after such a dissatisfying conclusion. Others may enjoy this, but it really wasn’t for me.

Assassination Classroom Volume 1 by Yusei Matsui— an amazing series starter! Already really moving with a teacher who spends all his time encouraging his students despite being a threat to the entire world they have to kill within the year. I have a feeling this will become a new favourite.

I’ll Be Gone in the Dark by Michelle McNamara– really great non-fiction read written by a journalist who played a massive part in the resurgence of talk surrounding the Golden State Killer. You also get some of her life story, and by the end I was almost in disbelief that the author had already died by the time her work was published. I will say it did drag at points, especially in the parts not written by McNamara that had to be finished after she died, but overall a really thorough look into the cases and the victims.

The Woods Volume 5 by James Tynion IV– this series is- dare I say it- picking up? I still have issues with the representation and the fact that most of the main characters to have died, especially in this volume, were POC while the white characters are in the exact same situation and survive. Will have to see if this carries on. 

Backwards & In Heels by Alicia Malone– this started off strong, and I found out so much about women in film and their presence in the industry since the creation of film in the 1800’s. However, by the end it got so repetitive and formulaic in the way information was presented that I started skimming. This is more of a coffee-table, occasional-read book when you fancy learning more about amazing women! Also, even though there is diverse rep and talk of lack of hiring of WOC and LGBT+ women in the industry, we also get the author praising white women earlier on in the book who took on roles where they did blackface and yellowface, which really dulled down the conversation in the latter half of the book. 

My Love Story!! Volume 6 by Kazune Kawahara– so GOOD. I got so emotional reading this volume, I ended up crying. This is by far one of my favourite manga series, I can’t recommend it enough. It follows tough-but-soft boy Takeo as he enters into a relationship with Yamato, cutest girl in the universe, with the support of his best friend Suna. Truly the PEAK of romantic comedy fiction. 

When the Sky Fell on Splendor by Emily Henry– emotional, hardhitting read about a group of friends who end up with superpowers after discovering a strange alien object. It’s very reminiscent of the film Super 8 in my head, and if you love stories about not only aliens but found families through friendship, highly recommend!

The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle– I just don’t think Sherlock Holmes is for me. I love the retellings and adaptations, and in theory, I’m invested in the murder mysteries, but I just think Doyle’s prose weighs it down and there’s always that underlying racism I don’t think is appropriate to even attempt to shake. 

And my May TBR Jar pick is…. MY HEART GOES BANG by Keris Stainton!

TV SHOWS/MOVIES/VIDEOS

At the start of the month, I started bingeing Dead Meat videos, a channel entirely revolving around horror. My personal favourite series is the Saw kill count videos, and the movies that changed horror podcast episode James (the host) does with his girlfriend Chelsea (who is amazing)!

I finally watched season 2 of Stranger Things! I adore Steve, as always, and it was such a solid season (BOB). However I did have an issue with the needless rivalry that festered with Elle towards Max, season 3 better sort that and stop pitting girls against each other for no reason other than because of boys.

Zoe from Read by Zoe was on FIRE this month with some really great read-a-thon videos! I loved her 24 read-a-thon vlog especially, she read only books she enjoyed growing up and it all felt really nostalgic.

This is very much a personal one, but my favourite streamer returned to a podcast with the company he used to work for, and it was just…. so heartwarming to watch. I can’t believe he left four years ago! I’ve been watching this company since I was about fourteen, so it was so nice watching this, a long-awaited reunion.

Kat at paperbackdreams did an amaaaaazing video rant reviewing After by Anna Todd, and I loved it. In general Kat is a top tier booktuber for me, I highly recommend her videos as much as I can!

MUSIC I’VE ENJOYED

Pressure by The 1975

Old Town Road Remix by Lil Nas X, Billy Ray Cyrus

The Black and White and I Spend Too Much Time in My Room by The Band CAMINO

I Got 5 On It  (Tethered Mix From US) by Michael Abels, Luniz, Michael Marshall

Soldiers (From Stranger Things) by Kyle Dixon, Michael Stein

REVIEWS I POSTED

Three Romance Reviews: Kulti, The Hating Game and Sunstone

The Elementals Book Review

Meddling Kids Book Review

OTHER POSTS I’VE DONE 

Spring Cleaning Book Tag

Film Friday: Favourite Campus Films

Getting Through Exam and Essays: ADVICE

DISCUSSION: Reading at University, and how I do it!

Music Monday: OMG This Song Book Tag

Top Ten Tuesday: Rainy Day Reads

Top Ten Tuesday: First Ten Books I Ever Reviewed on Goodreads

  April Wrap Up & May TBR Jar Pick IT'S MAY Y'ALL. Even though I'll still be doing blog posts in May, it's not going to be as hectic, as I finally finished my second year of university and have decided to take it easy after a very packed April.

[jetmalek]

Across the Table

Kenji didn’t want me to interview him.  “I don’t care,” he enunciated, slender eyes becoming even narrower as he glared at me, “If everybody else thinks I’m toast. Or waffles. Or any other beloved thing.  “What matters is, I’m not great. Stop talking to me, about me. And give me some space.”  “But I haven’t talked to you in years,” I rejoined. My pen twirled in my hands between my fingers— until I realized, I’m not very good at this. The pen dropped from out of my hand and plunked onto the tabletop sitting between us. “Does that count, for what you want?”  “I,” he uttered as he opened his mouth wide, as if to object. But his mouth formed a self-aware ‘O’ shape, and he frowned— this time, he did not direct it at me. He eventually closed his mouth, and opened it again— but still couldn't seem to find words to say.  Finally, he crossed his arms and turned his face aside, glaring at the wall to his right.  “Fine,” he muttered. “You can ask me dumb questions.” 

OC (Original Character) Interview

Tagged by: darkness1247

Rules: 1. Choose one of your OCs. 2. Your OC SHOULD NOT lie. 3. Journal title should be "OC Interview". 4. When you’re done, tag as many people as you wish. 5. Have fun! 

OC being interviewed: Kenji Imamoto

1. What is your real name and nickname?

 Kenji’s eyelids scrunched tightly, shutting me out. “You already stated who I am. What’s with this first question?”

 I admitted a shrug and a nod, neither of which he could see while squeezing his eyes closed. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure either. These are questions created by, I’m not sure who originally. I was asked to interview an original character of mine, though; provided no other questions besides these. I’m stating the originals- to keep the format authentic. But feel free to improvise on your answers, just as you might want me to ask different questions. Does that sound fair?”

 Kenji opened his left eye slightly.

 Considering me out of the corner of his eye,

I thought.  “Okay, then.”

I have no nicknames.

... …Don’t anyone call me, ‘Ken.’

2. Interesting... What's your current age?

 “Remember,” I added quickly, “I didn’t write these questions.”  Kenji gave an almost imperceptible nod as he opened both of his eyes again. But his gaze was not directed at me. As I studied his face, I came up with a label for his expression: 'Bored.'

 “And what would your alternate version be?”

Alternate Question 2: About how old are you?

That’s much better. Less rude; less intrusive.

I’m in my late twenties, even though I shouldn’t be.

It’s either that or I shouldn’t still be in college. But whatever.  

3. What's your favorite food?

 For the first time, Kenji’s shoulders started to relax and his eyes almost lit up. At the very least, his demeanor improved as he turned in his chair, three-quarters of the way, until he was almost facing me directly.

Toast.

With or without butter. Margarine. Grease spread. I don’t care.

But you have to put eggs on top of it. Scrambled or fried, doesn’t matter.

Eggs and toast. One atop the other. That’s the only viable way to have them.

4. And your favorite drink?

 When Kenji's immediate response was a sneer, I believed that his momentary passion for the interview had already waned.  “I’m not stupid!" he snapped. But then he told me in a more even tone, "Half-dragons shouldn’t drink alcohol,” by way of further explanation.  Kenji is a half-dragon. I instantly understood: he was concerned about self-control.  “Well,” I spoke cautiously, staring down at the tabletop— I was feeling a little embarrassed, myself. I stroked the surface of it with one finger, like I was trying to rub off some dirt that I had found. “I know that it sounds like, ‘drink,’ as in, ‘wine or beer.' But I don’t believe that the person who wrote this question had intended, ‘alcoholic beverages, only.’ Maybe, some interviewees have a favorite soft drink?” 

 “They might," came his crisp reply, "But I don’t.” 

 “Okay!” I offered cheerily. This, I didn’t mind; having a specific answer, regardless of his tone, meant a lot to me. “Would you like that response to be what I record?”  Kenji rubbed the side of his cheek with his thumb as he eyed me at length.

I don’t have any ‘liked’ beverages. I get hydrated; what else is there to like?

 But suddenly, there seemed to be a change on his face again. With the corners of his mouth twitching- almost as if he were fighting back a smile of some sort- he slightly parted his lips, and quickly asked, “Hot or cold?”  “What was that?” Yet I stopped myself mid-thought, snapped my fingers, and pointed at him excitedly. “Yes! Hot or cold beverages— either one of those counts!” 

I have a favorite. I was wrong.

It's hot apple cider.

No whipped cream is necessary.

Though I guess it couldn’t hurt.

Caramel toppings are fine. Except, no hard candy pieces. That would be gross and would interfere.

Sure, then: a smooth caramel sauce drizzled into a hot mug of apple cider. That is the perfect beverage.  

5. Confession time! Who's your lover?

 Immediately, I pinched my lips together and frowned severely with my eyebrows. “Kenji, I’m sorry; I hated that question. I could ask instead, ‘Where have you lived? Both before and now?’ Not. That. Question. I’m really—”  He held up his hand in a gesture that read to me, ‘Stop.’ So I fell silent. But he then extended this same hand as he lowered it- palm upwards, towards me- and assured in speech, “It’s all right. I could tell. That was worded in a way that you would never use. I know you at least that well.”  At this unexpected show of kindness, I had to look down at my paper again and try to hide my eyes. They were teary.   Yes, yes. Time to write down his answers, instead of thinking about how touched I am, I silently chided myself. 

To answer whoever it was that asked: ‘My lover’ is no one.

To answer my author, Jet Malek: I’ve lived in Stray’s Sendai Japan, for most of my life. I’ve briefly lived in one of Stray’s secluded Dragon communities, too; I’m not sure where it was located geographically. And, finally, I now live in Stray’s Manhattan New York.

6. Have you kissed anyone yet?

Along the same lines as before: 'No.' Next question.

7. What about your childhood sweetheart?

Is this interviewer obsessed? Love-life. Questions. Three of them, right in a row.

All taking place immediately after, ‘Favorite soft drink?’ Wow. Are they serious?

What a way to 'try and get to know’ me, whoever it is.

 Even though I didn’t want to obscure any of his answers- I preferred to hear Kenji talk rather than see Kenji pout- I did want to add a small word of counsel. “We don’t know if this interviewer had a great relationship with their own characters, and wanted his/her level of comfort transferred into a questionnaire. Also, admittedly you and I were both more enchanted about romance when we were littler: this interviewer could have been any age when he/she wrote this. Ten? Eight? Nineteen? Twelve? Fourteen? Any age other than ours, basically.  "I hope that information helps, Kenji, by providing some possible context.”  Kenji’s eyes did alight— with understanding this time. “That helps a lot. Thanks, Jet.”

If you’d define ‘childhood sweetheart’ as someone who loved you back- and I mean romantically- then I had none. However. I doubt that there are many ‘childhood sweethearts’ who've experienced such romantic equality since youth.

If. You were to ask. ‘Who was your childhood crush?’

Then. I could tell you.

Her name is Amber Midge. She was my best friend. At the time.

There. Are we done, now? With all of these love confessions via interview?

How awkward.

8. Who's your favorite author?

 As I read this one to Kenji, I couldn’t help smiling. “I guess the interviewer heard you.”  A smile stole across his face, too— twisted by all desires not to smile, so it seemed to me. He then reached up to his face with one hand, and began swiping the sides of his mouth with his palm. “So it seems,” he uttered.  His shy happiness sent me- on the inside- into backflips.  My gosh; I loved when Kenji opened up even a little.

Dorothy L. Sayers, author of ‘Strong Poison.’

Sorry, Jet Malek: It’s not you, even though you’re my author, illustrator, and creator. 

It's because I like detective novels. And you write urban fantasy. ‘Elements of mystery,’ written in another genre, don’t count as my favorite. Give me those stubborn, hardboiled, 19th- and 20th-century detectives, and I’m sold.

I guess that means Arthur Conan Doyle is another favorite of mine. But, I actually don’t know from experience. ‘Sherlock Holmes’ stories are apparently so popular on Earth that I’ve yet to read a copy on Stray.

Maybe, someday. An Earth person who loved 'Sherlock Holmes' stories, will suddenly stop liking them. Causing their thoughts of those stories to drop onto Stray. Here. Nearby one of my most frequented bookstores. And, doesn't get sold out before I can buy.  

That's certainly a lot of 'if's.

9. Now, what's your biggest fear?

 Like I’d done before, I shrugged at Kenji regarding this question. “Unless you have some tangible phobia, this question feels to me like it would be more suited for an author than a character. I mean— as a person, I don't often go around thinking, ‘Wow, X is my biggest fear.’ ”  When Kenji chuckled, I wanted to throw my pen down onto the table and gape at him— possibly pointing an emphatic finger, too, or maybe waving some jazz hands of excitement.   Kenji just laughed?I thought. When was the last time that happened?

 Knowing a lot better than to do any of the things that I'd imagined, I simply smirked and folded my hands over my paper.  Kenji then told me in a low voice, as he sat with his arms less tightly crossed than before, “You really did think this over first. Well. Thanks for sticking to the integrity of the original questions, regardless. I guess.”

My biggest fear.

Huh!

Give me a moment.

My biggest fears, are so big that I don’t even like saying them aloud. So: I’m trying to help you out, by naming something smaller.

Hmm.

Spills, I guess.

I hate that feeling, of spilling something. It makes me extra cautious, even around hot liquids.

Which I love.

That’s, like a ‘fear.’ That counts.

…Moving on now.

10. Any siblings?

Okay, that one almost made me laugh. Out of spite.

No— thank the Earth, my parents were not stupid enough to try and have any other kids like me.

11. Almost done, it's only twenty questions. Who's your hero?

‘Almost done,’ huh? More than halfway; I guess that counts.

All right. ‘Who’s my hero?’

Again, I need to think. This isn't something that I focus on much. …Okay, not something that I focus on, ever. Give me another minute.

Not my Dad or Mom; ugh. Not any celebrities; couldn’t care less.

Well. …Perhaps that’s telling: that I can only think of ‘not’ heroes.

Really, though; isn’t there anyone I at least admire?

Huh!

Whoa, does that change things: Yes. There are plenty of people who I admire.

Friends of mine. My psychiatrist. Friends’ parents, or friends' siblings.

None of them, would I consider my ‘hero,’ however.

There’s no changing me for the better— I am what I am, because I was born a half-dragon. So.

There’s no point in looking up to somebody, wanting to be more like them. Because I can’t be.

12. OK, who's your worst enemy?

Hah. …I’d guess my Dad, but that’s probably rude. He and Mom didn’t know any better, or something.

Myself. That’s, definitely a far better, more accurate answer.

How pathetic. I’m one of ‘those.’

‘I am my own worst enemy.’ Wow, how cheesy.

13. Huh, alright. Now who's your best friend?

…

I was about to say, ‘I don’t have one.’

Hah!

But even that’s too low for me!

And: I realized, it’s not true. Thankfully.

Confessing that I didn’t think of her, right away, because. I guess, I consider. Her. Better than a friend.

If only.

But, no. We’re not in a romantic relationship. No.

…I just esteem her, that highly.

‘Yakitori.’ That’s her online handle.

 He whispered something extra to himself. And in the moment that he noticed I’d overheard, he started to panic.  But I promised him: I wouldn’t write that last comment.

14. Interesting... What would you do if you met your creator?

Heh; I’m sitting across the table from her. Right now.

Guess I’d, get interviewed. If I met her.

15. Now, what do you want to be when you grow up?

Oh please.

I already feel as old as crocodiles. Am I supposed to want something later than this?

Well. What I want, now, is 'to not be a poison in other people's lives.' I’m getting what I want right now— so long as I stay in this city, keep on being careful and get myself a new Sentry. I wouldn’t want anything else.

So, I suppose that means: I want my job, out-of-college, to be here. In Stray’s Manhattan New York.

That’s what I want to have, ’when I grow up.’ After I graduate from college.

16. What's your worst nightmare?

…The opposite of what I just described. 'Poisoning other people's lives.' Again.

I don’t want that happening, ever again...

17. What's your lifelong dream?

…No.

Those days, are over. I will never have my lifelong dream become a reality.

So why talk about it?

18. What would you do if your lifelong dream came true?

 He suddenly looked at me with a scowl that tossed me right back into the past— to the moment when I’d asked, if he’d willingly be interviewed.  “Was this your add-on question?” he growled. "Did you switch the format all of a sudden?"  “No!” I blurted. I felt more scared than I wanted to feel— I wasn’t afraid of him, but of losing him.  We’d gotten so far. Things had been so smooth. I didn’t want my voice betraying my fears to him. I knew that he’d take them to mean what he wanted, instead of the truth: that I cared about him, and worried over him.   How do I recover? I thought. And then, thankfully, I quickly found the answer. 

 “I stopped adding alternate questions, Kenji, back when.” My cheeks flushed as I faltered, trying to recall and trying to re-word it for his ears both at the same time. “A while ago, I said something by way of explaining. Or apologizing. And, once you told me, in essence, it was okay— I just went with it.  "I stopped inserting my own opinions, alternate questions for you, or anything. Really. I was just trying to write what you were telling me, fast enough— so that I wouldn’t lose all of it.”  The word ‘integrity’ popped into my mind: what he’d described of my process.  I hoped that he remembered that word now, too.  He almost seemed to; his expression wasn’t a scowl, anymore. It wasn’t a smile, or a frown, or even a hiding-smile. Like my favorite kind.  Instead, his eyes seemed to focus on me for only a moment, but then focus on nothing at all as he seemed to retreat into his thoughts. His mouth was a straight line of thought.  I could just imagine him, then, saying to himself: ‘I have to believe her, because, it’s obviously a true report. But I don’t want to. I’d rather blame something tangible than note the coincidence— that this follow-up question was even asked. After I said to her, I’m not going to talk about it.’  Even as I could just imagine these ideas whizzing through his brain, I kept my lips pressed together tensely.  I wanted to know what he’d say- what he’d choose- after all of this.

If.

My lifelong dream.

…Of becoming a family, with somebody else.

And not being, a danger. To anybody else. Ever.

…If. That, lifelong dream. Came true.

…

I can’t even imagine, how happy I’d be.

But it’s not guaranteed: it even, wouldn’t be, guaranteed. If it happened.

Because: it’s not just some, ‘I want to marry a princess’ fantasy, or whatever. It’s that I want to be something, that I'm not. I'd want it every day, without any more internal struggles.

And I’d, have to work extremely hard in order to get there. To not be, a Half-dragon.

Which I’m already trying, in the only way that I know how.

…The only difference, is. I’d be risking it all with someone else, every day. If my dream ever came true.

Which it won’t.

…That probably means. I wouldn’t be all that happy, after all.

…I sound just, emo when it’s said out loud. How appalling.

19. OK, where's your favorite place to relax?

…I’m not giving you any more ‘emo’ fodder.

Hah.

This is a natural question; not something that I would say, ‘I never relax!’ to.

Hahah! …That’s actually, pretty great. Come to think of it. ‘Never relax.’

I mean, really? You wouldn't survive, if you didn't sometimes.

I love relaxing while lying down in the sun. Reading a book.

Anywhere could work— but in my apartment, that place is up in the window box. There’s this ledge that’s long and wide enough for a person to stretch out across it. And it’s located right beneath the apartment window. It’s my favorite place in the world, right now. I’d rather be there, sleeping, all day. Every day. I guess with a little reading and eating, every now and then.

But. If I did only that: I wouldn’t graduate, wouldn’t have a job, and wouldn’t live in an apartment of my own anymore. Heh.

So, I’ll settle for sleeping there as long as physically possible, instead.

Playing video games on my computer, by the way, is one of my favorite hobbies. But it’s not relaxing—hah!

20. Last question! What do you do most of the time?

I kind of covered it, throughout the interview.

Wouldn’t you say so, Jet?

Go to school, work for free- I mean, at an internship- until or if I get hired, then go back home and go to sleep. Play video games.

Those are the things that I do most of the time.

 Though I was still writing down his last answer, I heard Kenji push his chair back from the table. The shadow that he was casting on me grew, as I assumed that he stood up and, at last, I could pause from my writing long enough to look up at him and smile. My smile was grateful, and it was wishful. 

 I wanted to stay with him. Write for him.  'Help to solve all of his problems,’ yes; in the way that we writers all think that we can. Through our stories.  As if our characters didn’t write themselves.  “Hey, I, wanted to say thanks,” I stood up and held out my hand, formally. It was my offer of peace. “We don’t have to do interviews ever again, if you’d rather that. I don’t have any more questions that were provided, so. That’s easy for me to say now.”  His light green eyes acknowledged my hand. But when he brought his right hand forward, he moved it past mine— and landed it atop of my head.  I could almost cry— again. How was a character that I’d dreamed up, back when I was little, so much taller and taller than me now? Is this what it feels like to be a parent? I wondered in silence. 

 “You’re good,” he stated. “Not that, ‘you can interview me again.’ That’s not what I’m saying.  “But I know that you have a lot of trouble writing.  "You worry. You think a lot of things. You give. A lot. Of your time. You, care.  “And you could be like me, as I know that you’ve sometimes wanted— in a ‘safety’ sort of way. You could keep on being dissatisfied, with all of your own efforts. Like me.  “It��s hard for you to write. Without knowing your audience.  "It’s gotten harder for you to write. For yourself.  “But, whatever. You also don’t have to be like me, at all— because no one should do that. You could just be,” he hesitated before saying, “Happy. With what you have done. What you do. Wherever it leads. However little of a difference it seems to make.  “Not that, ‘I could do it, it’s so easy.’ Not at all. Instead, I’d like to keep working on that. It seems. Guess, I’d like to be happy, too, when I grow up.” Then he shrugged. “So. It’s been cool.”  He only removed his hand, I noticed, after I’d smiled up at him and said: “That’s, so eloquently worded. Um. Thank you?”  The slightest happiness glowed in his eyes as he smirked and nodded, pocketing both of his hands in his three-quarter-length tan coat. “Sure.” He lifted his hand, like he was waving, as he turned towards the open exit doorway. “We’ll talk again. Take care of yourself.”  “You, too. Please!” I whispered a little too late as he crossed the threshold.

He probably could hear me, I thought, reassuring myself. He’s Half-dragon. And Dragons have excellent hearing.