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luvzshy · 3 months ago

Note

can you do gf!billie and reader going on live together and its just cute and funny fluff💖

a/: awh i love this, so cutie 🙁💕

Drive-Thru Moments

The phone is propped up on the dashboard, the two of you waiting in a slow-moving drive-thru line for burgers and fries. Billie’s hand is resting on the gear shift, and your legs are casually stretched out as you scroll through comments on your phone.

“Alright, you ready?” you ask with a grin, already hovering over the button to start the live.

Billie glances over at you, smirking. “Let’s do it. But don’t roast me when I mess up the order.”

You hit the button, and in seconds, the comments start to flood in. “Hey, guys!” you greet, waving at the camera. Billie leans in slightly, adjusting her hair and giving a small wave. “We’re currently stuck in this drive-thru getting food because, well, we’re hungry.”

“And the line is insanely long,” Billie adds, drumming her fingers on the wheel. “So, we figured, why not hang out with you guys for a bit?”

The comments start flying in, some asking what you’re ordering, others hyped to see the two of you live together. Billie squints at the screen to read the comments. “Okay, someone asked what we ordered. Uh, burgers, fries, and milkshakes, right?”

“Yep,” you confirm with a laugh, pointing at Billie. “She went for the double cheeseburger, and I’m keeping it classic with the single.”

Billie nods. “And extra fries for you, of course.”

“As always,” you say, reaching over to snag a fry from the bag you’ve already half-eaten while waiting in line.

Another comment catches your attention. “Someone said we should do a ‘who knows each other better’ challenge,” you read aloud, glancing at Billie with a raised eyebrow. “Wanna test our knowledge?”

Billie chuckles, sitting up straighter. “Oh, I got this. I know you better than anyone.”

“Yeah, okay, we’ll see,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully.

Billie looks at the screen, reading out the first question that pops up. “Alright, ‘What’s her favorite thing to do on a lazy day?’” She turns to you, confidently answering. “Easy. Movie marathon, snacks all day, and no interruptions.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, nodding in approval. “I’ll give you that one. Now, for you…” You pause, pretending to think it over. “Video games or lying in bed listening to music for hours.”

Billie points at you with a grin. “Spot on. Next question!”

The live continues with you two bouncing back and forth between questions, playfully teasing each other and reading out comments. The next question comes in: ‘Who’s more likely to forget something important?’

You immediately point at Billie. “Oh, 100% you! Do we need to talk about the time you forgot to bring your ID to the airport?”

Billie groans, her face scrunching up in embarrassment. “Ugh, that was one time! And I had to go all the way back home to get it while you just sat there eating snacks, not even stressing.”

“Because I know you!” you laugh. “I knew you’d figure it out, but still—definitely you.”

Billie waves her hand dismissively, but she’s laughing too. “Okay, okay, fine. I forget things. Your turn now.”

More questions come in, one asking who’s more likely to start an argument over something silly. You laugh before answering, “Probably me. I mean, have you met me? I get fired up over the smallest things sometimes.”

Billie nods, smirking. “Yep. But it’s cute, so it’s fine.”

As the live continues, the car moves up in line, and Billie starts getting ready to order. She’s about to roll down the window when you glance at the comments again. “Wait! Someone asked if we’ve ever had a disastrous cooking experience together.”

Billie bursts out laughing, almost forgetting she’s next in line. “Oh my God, do we tell them about the pancakes?”

You shake your head, already cringing. “Okay, so we thought we’d make breakfast together one morning, right? Easy, pancakes and bacon. But someone…” you give Billie a side-eye, “… decided to eyeball the measurements for the batter.”

“I thought I knew what I was doing!” Billie defends herself, still laughing. “I had no idea pancakes could come out that thin. Like, they were almost see-through.”

“They were basically crepes,” you add, laughing too. “And the bacon was burnt because we got distracted.”

“By playing with the dog,” Billie finishes, nodding. “So, yeah, don’t let us near a kitchen unless you want a breakfast disaster.”

Finally, it’s your turn to order, and Billie rolls down the window. She gets through the order perfectly, even remembering your extra fries, and as she pulls forward, you give her a dramatic round of applause.

“Redemption,” you say, grinning. “No mistakes this time.”

Billie leans over, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Told you I got this.”

With the food in hand and the live still going, the two of you settle in to eat while chatting more casually about upcoming plans and reading random comments. At one point, someone asks if you have any plans for a road trip, and Billie smiles. “We’ve talked about it, maybe doing a little getaway soon. Nothing too far, but yeah, we’re thinking about it.”

“Probably somewhere with no distractions,” you add, popping a fry into your mouth. “Just us, good music, and a whole lot of snacks.”

As the live winds down, Billie glances at the screen and gives a little wave. “Alright, guys, we’re gonna head out and eat before everything gets cold, but thanks for hanging out with us!”

“Yeah, you guys are the best,” you add, blowing a quick kiss to the camera. “We’ll do this again soon. Maybe next time with less drive-thru and more… whatever this chaos is.”

With one last laugh, Billie ends the live, and the two of you sit back in the car, smiling at each other. You grab a fry, holding it up to her. “Not bad, huh?”

Billie bites the fry you’re holding and grins. “We’re kinda fun together, aren’t we?”

You laugh, leaning over to kiss her. “Totally.”

#billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish imagine

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johnwickb1tsch · 8 months ago

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The Bastard’s Mistress ~ A Don John x Servant!Fem!Reader Fic

So I caught the don John brain rot this weekend…very contagious, 10/10 recommend. This might be @scarlettspectra ’s fault, from all her beautiful gifs she’s been posting!😆 I didn’t go full Shakespearean here but had some fun with the syntax. I apologize in advance. Reader is properly deferential for the time, but she’s got a little spunk.😬

Warnings: the line between dubcon and noncon here is VERRRY thin. I don’t even know. So if that bothers you do NOT read this! What else. Period correct misogyny and degradation. Corruption. I’m so bad at itemizing these things. Please take care. If u have squiks i probs wouldn’t read this…

You are a chambermaid in His Excellency don Alejandro’s hacienda. It gives you a certain distance from things, as you come and go, doing your best to keep the country house clean and stay out of sight. But don Alejandro’s bastard, the fire-eyed boy with such a burning contempt for the world, has always seen you.

When you were young children, don John would play with you all, the offspring of the servants who were too young to work. Not because he enjoyed your company, but because he delighted in ordering you all about. Luckily in those days he ignored you as often as he tormented you.

Then there was a time, when the two of you hovered on the precipice between childhood and adult responsibilities, that you had almost been friends. Or at least, not enemies. He, the bitter outsider with the privileges of a full blooded son, but none of the standing. You, unmoored in your fatherlessness, the fever having taken your sire when you were just a babe.

Don John goaded you into shirking your chores one day to go play in the hills. He’d only taunted you a little, as you played your silly games, which mostly consisted of him manipulating you, ordering you to do this and that, always testing just how far he could go before being met with rebellion. It was still better than working your hands raw in the laundry. “We should run away,” he’d said in that devil-may-care way brash young boys have, so sure the world is destined to fold for them. You, however, had begged to go home, for all it won you. Upon returning your mother absolutely tanned your backside, and you never associated with Don John in such a familiar way again.

You saw him around the grounds, of course, as you scurried from one backbreaking chore to the next, and as he went through the motions of learning how to become a gentleman. Amidst his riding lessons he would wink at you from astride his fine black horse, but the cruel turn of his mouth never failed to halt you in returning it, even if your heart quickened in your chest.

That did not mean you didn’t think of him later though, on your lumpy cot of straw, as urges began to awaken in your body that was well on its way to becoming a woman’s. You saw his face at night, so achingly handsome you could hardly contain your longing. It felt like madness, and so you shoved it down in the deepest dungeon of your heart, as far as it could go.

It was not helpful, or good, the times when young don John passed you in the halls, and you felt that he would like to just eat you up. He would tug at your apron strings with a smirk before striding on to whatever lark he plotted for the day. The unholy feelings just a look from that man called up in you had you reaching for your rosary–and late at night, when all others lay asleep, between your legs.

You’d felt a certain relief when he went off to war with don Pedro. Even though your heart ached for the inevitable change, a part of you hoped he would never return.

As it turns out, your hopes were not to be realized. He has returned to his father’s country house, on the tails of some scandal in Messina. His temper is even fouler than you remember. His scowl, crueler. He has met with some disappointment, out in the world. You hope he will not take it out on you blameless servants.

Perhaps that is too much to ask of the upper caste.

You feel his eyes upon you again, as in the old days, but different. There is a weight in his gaze that makes you uncomfortable in your own skin, as though it no longer fits upon your own bones. It makes you ache for something no pious unmarried girl should yearn for, something you cannot name, only feel in the darkest hours of night when you lay awake on your mattress of straw, your sinful fingers exploring the bud of flesh between your legs.

You decide don John carries the flames of Hell in his burning dark eyes.

You dream of him, as though he has possessed your flesh in your sleeping hours.

He corners you one day, as you are changing the linens in one of the many airy rooms of the hacienda. You eye him warily, as he shuts the door, his large and forbidding form blocking your exit. His dark eyes upon you are black as night.

“What a flower you have blossomed into, y/n,” he muses, stepping slowly into the room with the measured calculation of a predator stalking prey. “No longer the knees and elbows girl I remember.”

“You…have also changed, my lord,” you offer cautiously. No longer the awkward, rail thin youth, his shoulders have the breadth of a man who rides a charger and wields a sword. You have tried not to notice.

“How so?” he fishes, canting his head with a smirk.

Your face feels as though you have caught on fire. “You are…taller,” you offer, winning a cruel little chuckle.

“Oh? I do like the sound of that. What else?” Another step closer, his booted heel clicking on the floor, and you are veritably boxed in between the walls and the oversized bed.

“My lord?” you stall, mortified.

“Did you miss me, y/n?”

This question also takes you aback, and perhaps that is why you answer honestly.

“Sometimes.”

“Well. That is more than any of my relations here will bother to claim,” he answers bitterly. In that moment you still see a boy just striving, yearning for his father’s recognition. Perhaps it was ridiculous, but you always felt bad for him, in a way.

“Did you hear the happy news? Don Pedro has taken a wife, and opts to dwell in Messina,” snarls don John with a mocking brightness.

“How…fortunate for him.”

The man before you makes a sound that suggests he barely restrained himself from spitting upon the floor in his half brother’s name.

“Indeed.” He takes one more step, and you know you are done for, your heart in your chest. There will be no escaping now. “What of you, fair y/n? Assumed the yoke of marriage yet?” The disdain in his words hangs bitter in the air.

You are tempted to lie, but know no good should come of it. “No, my lord,” you answer, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“How fortunate for you.”

Perhaps in your fear, you forget yourself. “John, please–”

He moves to strike, and you are but a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf, quick but not quick enough to evade him. His arm is like a band of iron about your waist, lifting you off the floor in his fury. He slams you down–albeit upon the feather mattress–a luxury you’ve never experienced for yourself, your back accustomed to scratchy tick straw.

“Insouciant wench! How familiar you are, to address me so.” He sounds so cruelly delighted by it, wedging his lean body like a knife between your legs, his narrow hips locked against yours. When you attempt to sit up he easily pins you down, his large hand spanning two of your wrists with ease, his other pressed lightly over your throat. You can hardly hear, hardly think, over the sound of your heartbeat thundering in your ears. He can surely feel it in your pulse, fluttering against his fingers. You are filled with fear–and the sharp ache of desire, God save you.

“Please, my lord…”

He makes a low sound in his throat, his lips tracing your jaw. “Please what, pretty maid? I have a mind to make a meal of you.”

“Please…don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you? That is up to you, my dear. I will have you. Sweetly, or by force, tis your choice.” Your heart lodges in your throat. Your mother warned you about this, time and again. Men are dogs and gentlemen the worst of them. Never let them catch you alone.

And in your darkest heart of hearts, you know that a part of you hoped don John might do just that.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, surprisingly gently for such a villain, but you attempt to turn away. It only wins his annoyance, his large hand turning your face back to him. Before he can press his mouth to yours you say, “You merely seek to make sport of me in your boredom here. It is not right.”

He laughs at that. “Sport, I shall make,” he muses, hiking your skirts above your thighs. “Let us test the truth of your righteous outrage?” Boldly his fingers climb the trail of your leg, to the apex where he finds the damning evidence of your treacherous loins. “My lovely girl, so wet for such a reluctant quarry.” His long fingers dip inside your weeping center, and the sound you make does not resemble protest at all. He smirks down at you like the very devil. “And a virgin my little rabbit is not.”

Javi the stableboy took care of that for you, in a quick and disappointing tumble in the hay. His touch…had felt nothing like this, if truth you tell.

Ashamed, and burning, you look away. Tears trail out of your eyes, and a part of you wishes it shall just be over soon. He frowns at the shining tracks of water upon your cheeks, a menacing scowl that makes your eyes screw shut tight.

“Do not seek to engage my sympathy or my better nature, for you know I have none,” he growls above the dip of your throat, his lips searing as a brand upon your chest.

“That wasn’t always true,” you dare, winning naught but a growl from this ravenous beast of a man above you.

“You are the only one who thinks so.” For the barest moment you see a flash of vulnerability in his eyes–the ghost of the memory of the boy he once was, there and gone like ripples in a pool. It is as though this second of softness spurs him on in his deed, as though he must shove it aside to enjoy his sordid pleasure.

Clever fingers tear at the laces of your stays; you are freed to breathe, but you are bared to his hungry gaze as he tugs down your shift for his delectation. “Such lovely fruits, just ripe for picking,” he muses, cupping your breast in his hand, suckling upon a nipple.

You never knew how such a thing could make your insides clench, your sinning cunt tightening in its aching emptiness. Your hips move against his of their own accord, your legs wrapping about him as you mindlessly seek some relief from this madness. He withdraws with a dramatic pop, laughing at your body’s treachery.

“You are a fiend.”

“Pray, tell me,” he taunts you.

“I hate you.”

“Is that any way to speak to your master?”

He is enjoying this far too much.

“You forget your place, don John, as ever.”

That is when he slaps you. Not hard, nay, your own mother has hit you harder, but it certainly gets your attention. “I will rule here someday, y/n. Have a care with that tongue. I can think of better uses for it.” His piercing eyes fix upon your lips, a moment before he falls upon you, kissing you as though he means to devour you. You tense, thinking to bite him for being so cruel, so conniving, for just using you for no other reason other than he can.

He plays a very dirty trick on you, though.

That dexterous hand slips under your skirts again, swiping up your slick before circling that small nub of flesh that causes you such great tumult and shame. You moan into his mouth, and you feel him smile wickedly against you.

This man is the very devil, you are sure of it.

“Now who is ready to forget?” he taunts you, rubbing you in slow circles that drive you mad, make you writhe for the unbearable tightness coiling between your legs.

You can only manage a small cry, words escaping you. You’ve never felt anything like this, not at your own hands, and certainly not with Javi the stableboy.

“Please,” is all you can manage, and you’re not even entirely sure you know what you’re begging for.

“I like to hear you beg so sweetly.” He reaches to free himself from his breeches, his swollen tip hovering at your entrance. “So beg, wench, what favour is it you ask of me?”

You should entreat him to leave you be–you should beg for his mercy. But the delicious weight of him atop you, this dastardly man whose touch is such sweet sin–you are not sure you wish for him to leave you be. Your whole life has been such a march of drudgery. Even just the possibility of feeling something that is not pain or exhaustion makes you willfully forget every lesson your mother ever taught you, every fiery sermon the Padre ever flung down from his pulpit. Tis easy to renounce the Devil, until temptation has you in its clutches.

“I know not what to ask for,” you answer cautiously, and that at least is true.

Don John smirks down at you, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes.

“Ask for my cock, you stupid girl, and if your quim pleases me perhaps I may be moved to share in the spoils.”

“Yes.” You strain your hips towards him, craving that satisfying, stretching burn of a man’s first thrust. That, atleast, you know something about.

“Yes, what?” he taunts you, delighting in your torment as he holds himself just out of reach.

“Yes, my lord,” you whimper, hating yourself as much as him in that moment. “May I have your cock?”

His smile widens in his devilish delight, almost showing teeth. “Remember that you asked for it.” But he taunts you no further, his thick head penetrating your weeping hole, the fullness of him stealing the very breath from your lungs. He groans once fully inside you, burying his face in your neck.

“I’ve always known you would have the sweetest little cunt in the sierra,” he growls against your skin, and he begins to thrust.

If there is one thing you have always known about don John, it is that he loves to hear himself talk.

“You are mine, little maid,” he goes on, filling you so deeply you fear he must be in your belly. You are not sure you like it, and you only whimper in answer, straining for a better angle against him, seeking that certain friction that made you see stars.

“Say it,” he demands, understanding what you seek very well. You whine, turning your eyes to the ceiling. You know you are a mere peasant, and you know you do not own anything, much less yourself. Yet some small defiance rises in you, for his demanding tone.

“Perhaps I shall, if you make it so.”

You wait for him to strike you again, but to your surprise he smirks with a sort of dark delight, only turning your gaze back to his with a rough hand upon your jaw. “There is the saucy wench I remember of our youth. Do you remember how you used to defy me?”

You don’t very much, recalling that he usually always emerged the master and victor of your games.

“No, my lord.”

“You do not recall striking me with a stick, in defense of a hapless bird?”

You blink, finding it rather unfair of this man to expect you to command the capacity to think in this situation. But then you do recall. You had all been small children. The boys sought amusement in throwing rocks at an injured sparrow. You had taken exception to it.

Don John had sworn he would tell his father and have you executed.

You’d cried for days, but the sword never fell.

You’d nearly forgotten all about it, perhaps willfully burying the memory out of shame and fear. Mostly fear.

The bastard had deserved it.

He never forgot a slight, it seems.

“I always told myself I would have my revenge for that,” he tells you with a smirk, pressing his thumb into your mouth. You try to shrink away, but he has you like a fish on a hook. “Suck,” he commands you. You do not understand why those jetty black eyes boring into yours, paired with that unyielding tone, makes your needy cunt clench around him, only that it is extremely satisfying to see his eyes flutter closed, even if just for a moment.

You do as you’re told.

He uses your own saliva against you, reaching between your legs with that spit-wet thumb to touch you again.

You forget everything else, but the carnal heaven that is his clever fingers with his manhood inside you. The sounds the two of you make are barely human, as you strain and writhe against each other, chasing your release from this hell. Those full lips made for sin devour you–his mouth on your breasts makes you see God, a searing pleasure crashing through you in a spine-cracking rush. How can something that feels so wonderful be so forbidden? Only then does don John truly let himself go, the sound of flesh striking flesh filling the room as he takes you with all his pent up fury. It is not long before he roars his release, filling you with ropes of his hot seed, his powerful body trembling in its tangle of limbs with yours.

For just a moment you wished would last, his fingers lace with yours rather than pin you, his head heavy on your chest as he catches his breath. Yet when he lifts his gaze to you, his eyes gleam with their usual malevolence.

“You will come to my chambers tonight,” he orders you. “For I am not finished with you yet by half.”

When your mouth opens–indeed to give protest–he silences you with a hard but heart-melting kiss, his long fingers tangled unforgivingly in your now loosened hair.

“Do as I say, servant girl. Though if you don’t, I may enjoy making you.” That proud mouth ticks as he seems to imagine it, that fire igniting once more in his mesmerizing eyes. The thought simultaneously makes your blood run cold–and a thrill of desire run raucous down your spine.

This man is the very devil. You are as sure of it now, as you know when the household goes to sleep, you will find your way back to his merciless embrace.

#don john #much ado about nothing #don john x reader #don john keanu reeves #keanu reeves #keanuverse #keanuverse fic

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wishluc · 2 years ago

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Hi there! Can I request a Yandere headcanons of Kafka and Himeko?

I don't do headcanons sorry!

Content Warnings: stalking, implied kidnapping & imprisonment

As you watch Himeko leave the ship, the sight of her captivating smile and the warm grasp of her hand around yours is burned into your memory, bright and blazing like her presence. Something inside you shrivels up as she walks away, yearning for her warmth again, and you can feel yourself visibly deflate once she's completely out of sight, the rhythmic clacking of her heels completely faded into the background. You close your eyes and try to recall the sensation of her lips against your skin, but your mind can't conjure the same feelings despite the image still evident. Even the stars around you seem to dim after her absence.

"Well, what's got you looking so down?"

Kafka walks out from behind you, her steps slow and purposeful as she regards you with an uncharacteristically stiff smile. Dread washes over you as you realize she must have seen the entire meeting, and you internally berate yourself for not noticing sooner.

"Nothing." "Mm, is that so? You're going to hurt my feelings, darling," she says, her voice devoid of any of her usual airiness, and her usual smile lacking its charming quirk, "not sure I quite like being second place. "

She cocks her head to the side, her eyes looking frighteningly dark despite the lights around her, "But I especially dislike being treated as a fool."

You flinch back, hands gripping the railing almost painfully tight now, "I wasn't— Himeko isn't—"

"Oh, so it's Himeko now?" She sighs, her tone dripping with faux sorrow—beneath it, you catch a tinge of something more bitter, more resentful, even— "My, and here I thought we had something special."

"We don't have anything," you correct her, "...were you watching the whole time?"

Her sharp smile is all the answer you need, "you're losing your touch, dearest, if you couldn't tell I was here. Or were you just looking for an excuse to give you more training?"

You roll your eyes in reply, but some part of you is unsettled by her confession. Even if you had been too distracted to realize, Himeko is far too clever and observant to let something like that slide. She should have noticed the additional presence immediately, but didn't.

Or maybe she wanted Kafka to stay.

The two of them, you were aware, weren't on the best terms. You had always chalked it up to their differences in ideology and reputation, but recently, you've started noticing that your presence seemed to fuel their antagonism in some way; feeding into the flames of their rivalry.

Himeko, like Kafka, was always planning ahead; planning her next destination, her next expedition. You had seen her in action yourself; standing behind her as she gazed on ahead, and later positioned beside her as she pointed out the station you were heading to, so you were certain there was rarely an occurrence she didn't account for.

"I really didn't know," you admit, soft enough so only she could hear, "otherwise, I wouldn't have..."

"You really need to stop with the excuses. It really isn't helping your case—especially since they're all lies," she puts put a finger to your lips, causing you to swallow your protests, "none of that, now."

"Honestly, I'm not that bothered by your silly games," she declares, filling you with uneasiness, "and lucky for you, I happen to like challenges."

It should be a good thing, that she's not too upset by your meeting with Himeko, but you know better than to take anything Kafka says too lightly.

"Kafka," you say, desperately trying to appease her, "you know I'm not leaving you. I can't, even if I wanted to."

It's the truth, for once—you could try to hop off the ship when Kafka was away, but she had long latched one of her colleagues onto you like some kind of terrifying guard dog, and you had no intention of testing just how dedicated he was to his post. Besides, even if you were to leave, you had no doubt that she'd find a way to track you down and drag you back.

At the very least, the statement earns genuine laughter from her.

A gloved hand rests on your back, and Kafka moves closer to you, "Terrible little thing you are, darling," you find some comfort in realizing that there's actual amusement hidden in her words, "I don't think you know how much you mean to me."

No, and you probably won't ever know, but your verbal assent isn't the response she anticipates, so you remain silent.

"Terrible," she mutters, her other hand cupping your cheek, "but all mine, aren't you?"

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

#yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere kafka #yandere kafka x reader #hsr kafka #kafka x reader #yandere honkai #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #kafka. 🌀#honkai star rail. 🌀#mail. 🌀#yandere x reader #cw yandere #asa.writes 🌀#drabble request v01. 🌀#requested work. 🌀#drabble. 🌀

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omorimodreverie · 10 months ago

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Reverie Dev Log - 2024 January + February

Overview

January and February saw ups and downs in activity, but overall significant progress was made. The start of the year was initially slow due to breaks, but activity picked up slowly. You may have noticed that there were less promotional posts or updates in general during this time, as we were focused on development. Thanks to these efforts, though, we’re fairly optimistic that this will be the final dev log for Chapter 3.

As for me (Stahl) personally, I have not been able to do much this time round as I have been busy (hence lack of public updates), but this time round invaluable progress was made by others in the team.

Quick rundown:

First round of playtesting has been done - This was a very rudimentary one aimed at finding basic bugs

NPCs are now mostly finished, and our writers are now working on flavor text and side writings

Portraits are all done and implemented

Battles have been planned out in more detail

Various organizational changes

Extra writers and RPGMV members have been recruited

Updates

The first round of playtesting is complete! This one was rather rudimentary, containing only basic story points. The aim was to test progression and to fix major bugs, both of which we’ve now finished. There are still some major aspects missing, like flavor texts and quests but vital components to main progression like cutscenes and maps are completed and being tested. Hopefully, this round of playtesting should wrap up soon, and more will follow.

Minor and Side contents

There’s still a lot of design decisions to make, mostly regarding seemingly minor aspects of the game that actually take large amounts of resources. A lot of thought must be put into whether these features, like flavor text and shops, are worth the amount of time needed to make them, and if so how much.

Due to this chapter being a real world section and story centric, the remaining gameplay would be left to mostly side quests. This is an interesting challenge, as unlike base Omori, Sunny is not familiar with the city like back in Faraway town, meaning it’s more challenging to find opportunities to give him quests.

As for Reverie specific side content, battles won’t completely be abandoned in the real world. They’ll be taking forms in various challenge battles found throughout the city. For a rough idea, think of the Jackson poster found in Hobbeez from the base game.

Miscellaneous Changes

Another thing yet to be done are tweaks to previous chapter content. They will mostly affect quality of life, but some will also be major gameplay changes. Here’s some examples of planned changes (not exhaustive):

Picnic allows the player to change difficulty mid game (Trust me, later dream world chapters will feature major difficulty spikes and players may get stuck)

Hit Rates on equipment changed, mostly heavily nerfed. This makes evasion buffs actually relevant (and also, 300% hit rate is just silly).

Some skills entirely changed (e.g. Spaceboy Preserve will change into another Attack skill instead).

In game info to indicate that emotion influences Enemy AI very strongly in reverie compared to base game.

Conclusion

Overall, development on chapter 3 is reaching its later stages, reaching the first round of playtesting. This should hopefully be the last dev log in relation to Chapter 3 development.

As thanks for reading this far, here is a remade portrait of real world Sunny! It’s a bit more softer than the previous one, and the proportion has been improved as well.

#omori #omori mod #mod #omorimodreverie #reverie #omori reverie #devlog

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1800i-dont-write-fanfiction · 8 days ago

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(3) lavellan'd

The air is heavy here. Stifling. It wraps around me like a shroud, pressing on my chest with every breath. Elgar'nan does not need to speak to remind me of his power; his very presence thrums with it like a palpable weight beneath my skin.

I have been here for days. Or perhaps longer. Time fractures in this place, spilling into itself like sand slipping through phantom fingers. Each second feels designed to strip my composure.

The chains glow faintly, their light pulsing with a rhythm that matches my heartbeat. Magic, obviously—ancient and overwhelming. I’ve tested them, of course, tugging and twisting, but the strength of them reduces my defiance to futility.

Sometimes he watches me. I can feel his gaze even when I refuse to meet it, the weight of it pressing between my shoulders. There is something in the way he stares at me that makes my skin crawl. But I am not so naïve, nor so prudish, to reject the limited power I still possess. Even in chains, there is ground to be made however brief and fragmented my resistance may be.

I do not know what he wants from me. Not entirely. He speaks of vengeance, always. Elgar'nan the Destroyer, the embodiment of wrath. His words echo with the rage of countless lifetimes. Yet, for all his fury, his voice carries an unsettling calm, as though he waits patiently for the perfect instant when destruction will unfold.

I try to focus on other things. The space around me is small and cold, carved from stone that seems to drink the light, leaving only shadows in its place. That's what you called us; shadows of your people. After a while, I laughed at the irony. The faint energy pulsing through my chains hums persistently, a dull ache against my skin. But my mind returns to you, always.

Elgar’nan seems to think you will come. He speaks of your defiance as if it is an inevitability; kneeling, to suffer, to pay for whatever ancient sins still haunt him.

I should hate you for making me a pawn in a game I never agreed to play, and loving me in a way that feels like both a gift and a curse. I hate that I don't, or can't, and I wonder where you are. Do you know that I’m here? Part of me hopes you do, and that you will feel the weight of this. That my suffering will carve itself into your skin like the vallaslin you took from me.

A larger part just wants you. Because even now as I sit powerless, I feel you near me. A whisper at my edges, elusive but persistent. You are like a hand brushing against mine in the dark—a touch so faint I cannot be certain it is real, or if it ever was.

I swallow hard, pushing the thought away.

The door opens. I hear Elgar’nan’s approach before I see him. Slow, deliberate, echoing through the hall like a blade scraping against stone. I straighten my back, lifting my chin.

“You look tired,” he says, his voice low, smooth, laced with something that feels too much like amusement. I don’t respond.

His steps grow closer, and I can feel him now—his presence, oppressive, settles over me like a storm cloud. He leans down, close enough that I can feel his breath against my skin. My stomach twists, but I do not flinch.

“Your silence is impressive,” he murmurs, almost approvingly. “And impudent.” His smile carries no warmth. He could freeze blood with a look.

I do not know if you will come for me. But I hold on to the hope of a silly girl who loved you too deeply to care who, or what, you were. If I am to be broken, it will not be easily.

#solavellan #lavellan #solas #elgarnan #lavellan x elgarnan #datv spoilers

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luv4fandoms · 2 years ago

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Ti Amo (Marko x Fem!Reader)

This story was inspired by this idea

So thank you so much anon! I definitely couldn't have come up with a Valentine's Day themed story without your help. And I know this late, I'm sorry, life has had me busy.

For this I had to do some research on how Valentine's Day is celebrated in Italy and can I just say, that I much prefer the Italian way of celebrating! Like... America! You took a wrong turn somewhere and got off course.

Anywho, all Italian is translated by Google translate so if anything is wrong I do apologize.

Word count: 2,665

Pairing: Marko x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff!

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Ko-Fi

The shops suddenly being filled with red, white, and pink everything indicated only one thing…Valentine's Day was approaching. A holiday you hadn't cared for in many many years…Until you met Marko. As cheesy as it sounded, Marko changed your whole life, and actually made you believe in love again. So now that the holiday of love was approaching, you wondered what to get for your own Cupid. You knew a handmade gift would be best, since making things was something you both enjoyed, that and the fact that the both of you often made fun of the overly marketed cheesiness of the Hallmark holiday, stating that along the way it had lost its actual symbolism and was now simply a way for stores to cash in on love. Though as you were scoping out the shops that night on the boardwalk you have found something you knew he would love..But you wanted to do something more, something he wouldn't expect…and that's when the thought hit you. You only had a few weeks until Valentine's Day, which meant you had to cram as much studying into those few weeks, and the studying began the next day when the library was actually open. Marko was a bit suspicious when you started to get sleepy earlier in the nights leading up to Valentine's Day, but you would just assure him that it was a surprise and you were ok. To which he would grumble but pull you close to him, kissing along your neck and telling you not to put your health at risk. You studied as much as you could, tested yourself over and over again until you could say the words at least almost flawlessly, and finally felt at least somewhat ready for your Valentine's surprise.

The night of the holiday you had put on an outfit you knew Marko went crazy over and headed to the boardwalk, excited to see your Romeo..What you didn't expect, was for him to not be there. Looking at the boys, your eyes wandered for Marko, but couldn't spot the soft blonde curls anywhere in the crowd.

"He's just running late" Paul told you, slinging his arm around your shoulder. When Marko wasn't around, the boys, often Paul, took it upon themselves to be your protector on the boardwalk.

"Running late?"

"It's a surprise," he smiled, before pulling you along.

"Come on, let's go hit up the games til he gets here, I'll be your temporary Valentine" he said with a wink, making you laugh, Paul was definitely your best friend, but even being your best friend, you began to get worried after an hour passed and Marko still hadn't shown up.

"Are you sure he's ok?" You asked, for what was probably the tenth time.

"I'm sure if it sis, come on, you know Marko, he's reckless sure but not stupid, he can handle himself"

"I know that!...But it doesn't stop me from worrying" you sighed while looking down.

"Worrying about who?" You heard a very familiar voice ask. Looking up quickly you came face to face with a little stuffed bat.

"My silly boyfriend, you see he's an hour late and I'm starting to think I should go look for him Mr.Bat" you told the toy, trying to hide the smile as you shot a glance to your boyfriend.

"I'm sure he's fine, just maybe hoping you won't be mad at him for being late" the bat spoke, and you couldn't hold in the laugh as you reached out and took him.

"Not mad" you said while turning to look at Marko.

"Good, cause I promise I had a good reason"

"Oh?"

"Come on" he smiled, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards his bike.

"Thanks for hanging out with me" you yelled back to Paul as Marko pulled you along.

"Anytime sis!"

You happily climbed onto the back of Marko's bike, the stuffed bat tucked into your shirt.

"You keep doing that and I'm gonna get jealous of that little guy" he joked while starting his bike.

"Hey it's only fair, I let you ride in my shirt when you're in bat form remember"

"No way I could forget that amore, best seat on the whole boardwalk" he joked

"Funny, my vote would be your lap" you joked back, earning a grin from him as he leaned back, tilting his head until you could lean forward and kiss him, the kiss was short but full of love before he leaned forward again and took off. The two of you rode down the beach for a while, and honestly you felt like you could spend every night like this, with him, just riding. But soon you felt the bike beginning to slow before he stopped completely. You were a bit confused since you were at the edge of where the beach met the woods, but you trusted Marko, so when he got off the bike and held his hand out for you, you took it.

"What are you up to Romeo?" You giggled as you followed him through the forest.

"Now if I told you that it would ruin the surprise" he grinned back at you. The two of you walked for a little ways, slowly ascending, until the woods began to thin and you stepped out into a clearing that overlooked the ocean, but that wasn't what caught your eye, what caught your eye was the setup before you. A blanket laid over the grass with a basket, two glasses on-top and candles sprinkled throughout the area to give it a warm glow.

"Marko" you gasped, tearing up at the scene, no guy had ever done anything like this before, a quick burger at a fast food joint sure, but not a full blown candlelit picnic overlooking the ocean under a blanket of stars.

"Happy Valentine's Day amore" Marko whispered, gently pulling you towards the scene. You sat down and watched as he pulled a bottle of wine from the basket, glancing up at you and chuckling before saying with a wink.

"Don't worry, it's actual wine" he handed you the glass before pulling out the covered plates of food.

"How were you able to do this?" You asked with a laugh, happily taking the plate, Marko had never cooked for you before.

"I…May have snuck into your house after you left and used your stove" he confessed with a sheepish grin at your shocked expression.

"I'm not even mad cause honestly this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done" you laughed.

"Really? That makes me the best boyfriend then huh?" He grinned.

"Definitely the best boyfriend" you smiled, leaning over and giving him a quick kiss, a kiss that had him chasing your lips when you leaned back.

"I will also forgive you for breaking and entering because this smells absolutely delicious" you gushed, looking down at the plate of pasta.

"Busiate alla Trapanese...it was something my grandmother taught me to make" he confessed, looking at his own plate, and you swore your heart could burst…he made you something that you knew brought up memories of his past life…of good times from the small smile he had.

"I'm honored" you spoke quietly, causing him to look up at you.

"That you made me something from your childhood", his smile soon matched yours, before he just shrugged, happy that it was dark so you couldn't see the slight blush. Before the both of you dug in…and you couldn't stop the moan even if you tried. It was so.freaking.good.

"Ok…Are you a witch as well as a vampire, cause there is some magic in this, I'm sure of it" you told him, causing him to laugh, chest puffing up a bit in pride.

"I could be" he shrugged.

"You never know" he added with a wink.

"Well if you are I am fully under your spell" you winked back, earning a bigger smile. The both of you finished your food, Marko promising to cook for you more often. And now you were just leaning back against him, looking out at the ocean while you sipped your wine.

"I wish I could have found some Perugina chocolates, you would have loved them" he spoke after a moment, to which you just simply grinned, leaned forward and reached into your bag.

"You mean these?" You asked, looking back at him as you held up the box, watching his eyes widen.

"How did you?"

"I may have asked around, the Sweet Shope on the boardwalk was able to order them for me, straight from Italy babe" you smiled while leaning back into his arms while he happily opened the box on your lap.

"But how did you know?"

"I...may have done some research on how Valentine's Day is celebrated in Italy" you confessed, looking down to hide the blush as you felt Marko go stiff. You suddenly became worried that maybe that was weird, maybe you shouldn't have…and if that was weird then your surprise was gonna be too much. What you didn't expect was you feel his arms tighten around your waist, box of candy temporarily forgotten on your lap as he buried his face in your neck.

"You trying to make me fall in love with you amore?" He chuckled against your skin.

"Maybe?" You blushed.

"Maybe?" He smiled.

"I also have this for you" you told him, grabbing the small box out of your bag. He happily opened it and held up the little bell, a skull with a crown and red jewels in its eyes adorning it.

"It's a bike bell, they say it's–"

"For protection" he finished, kissing your cheek.

"Thank you baby, I love it" he told you before leaning your head back and kissing you. But just as you began to lose yourself in the kiss he began trailing kisses down your cheek and neck.

"I…I may have something else" you spoke hesitantly, causing him to pull his face from your neck.

"Oh?"

"Ho una confessione (I have a confession)" you spoke after a moment, seeing Marko's eyes widen again from the corner of your eye.

"Non mi sono mai sentito così prima (I've never felt like this before)" you tried to remember what you practice, your words coming out a bit slower than you would have liked.

"mi fai sentire così amato, protetto, libero... voluto (you make me feel so loved, protected, free…wanted)"

"Lo so, nella mia anima, non c'è nessun altro per me. non oggi, non mai.(I know, in my soul, there's no one else for me. Not today, not ever.)"

"ecco perché non ho ripensamenti quando ti chiedo questo (that's why I have no second thoughts when I ask you this)" you took a deep breath and slowly pulled away from his grasp, placing the box of candy on the blanket and turning to face him. A look of pure shock and love adorning his features, and as you looked at him, the moon giving him a soft glow while the candle light danced across his skin. Eyes shining as he looked at you, and lip gently caught by his teeth, almost as if he was trying to keep himself from speaking or smiling too much. You looked at this man, this man who had swept you off your feet in a flurry of laughter, sweet gestures, long talks, wild bike rides and slow walks on the beach, and you knew there was no one else you wanted to spend forever with.

"cambiami (change me)" you finished, watching as his teeth released his lip, mouth opening as he looked at you as if you had just told him the most shocking news.

"Che cosa? (What?)" He asked, unsure he has heard you say the one sentence he had wanted you to say since you met. Surely you hadn't just asked that, in his own native tongue, after confessing how much you loved him,in his own native tongue! Did you know what you were doing to him? Did you know how crazy you were making him? How crazy for you you were making him?

"Cambiami (change me)"

There it was again, that simple request that held such a heavy weight and yet you said it as if you had just told him the stars were pretty. But the look on your face said you had thought about it, ran it through your head a thousand times and the answer stayed the same…You wanted to be with him…Forever.

"Amore" he breathed, reaching up to hold your face in his hands, you leaned your forehead against his, smiling as you held his hands.

"per sempre? (Forever?)" He asked, still not believing it.

"Per sempre (Forever)" you smiled, and he leaned forward, crashing his lips to yours to try and show you just how happy you had made him, even though he knew he would never be able to fully show you…But now he had forever to try. Once he pulled away you couldn't help but laugh.

"Is that a yes?" You asked

"Sì, yes just name when and where and we'll make it happen" he smiled.

"As long as it's your blood I'm drinking, no offense to David but I really don't want him as my sire" you laughed

"No way in hell, you're all mine" he spoke while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his lap.

"Sorry if my Italian wasn't that good.. I'm still learning" you spoke after a moment, earning a groan from him as he pressed his forehead against your chest, holding you tightly. God if you only knew what you did to him.

"Amore, it was perfect"

"Really?"

"Really, and I will admit…I wasn't expecting it"

"I wanted to surprise you"

"Was all of it true?" He asked, and you knew that deep down Marko struggled to believe it.

"Every word" you told him

"non c'è nessun altro neanche per me, sei tu amore mio, solo tu (there's no one else for me either, it's you my love, only you)" he spoke, looking at you like you hung the stars.

"Ti amo Marko (I love you Marko)" you breathed.

"Ti amo y/n (I love you y/n)" he whispered before leaning in to capture your lips, his hand cradling your cheek while his other wrapped around your waist. The two of you losing yourself in one another under the night sky.

"So what other Valentine's traditions do they have in Italy?" You asked after a while as you now laid against Marko, your head resting on his chest.

"Well…there are a few things?" He spoke, a grin that could rival the Cheshire cat making its way across his lips.

🦇🦇🦇🦇

"Come on" he laughed, pulling you along.

"Is this legal? You know what, don't answer that" you laughed.

"Wise choice" he replied as the two of you made your way to the chain fence at the boardwalk. Once stopped, you tried to once again fix your clothes.

"Having some problems amore" he smirked when you shot him a glare that held absolutely no anger.

"Oh no just my boyfriend messing up my clothes to the point I can't get them right again"

"Mmmm they looked a lot better on the ground"

"Marko!"

"Just the truth babe" he chuckled while watching you, and watching the earring that swung from your ear as you moved, the earring that matched his.

"Come on, we do it together" he smiled

"I like the sounds of that" you smiled back.

🦇🦇🦇🦇

The guard would never find out who put the padlock on the fence, or who crudely carved M x F/I into it, though it looked like it was clawed in and that weirded him out to the point of simply leaving it, after all, he didn't have the keys, nor would he ever find the ones that had been tossed into the ocean once the lock was clicked shut.

I hope everyone enjoyed it! Also this is the bell and it can be found on Etsy

#the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #marko tlb #marko the lost boys #the lost boys marko #marko x reader #marko #marko x female reader #tlb marko x reader #tlb marko #marko tlb x reader #vampire x reader #vampires #alex winter

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yooo-gehn · 10 months ago

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A late night rant about sex

A porn star once had an erectile dysfunction right in the middle of shooting porn, he just couldn't get it up, so you know what he did? The naked super sexy lady on top of him was just not arousing him, so he grapped his phone, and played his favorite porn clip, and shazam, he was back in the game. How crazy meta is that? A porn star needed porn to be sexually functional! Even when he knows exactly how unreal it is. I know it's easy to use this story to condemn porn, but actually screw that.

All I was thinking is damn, sex is never ever as simple as feeling aroused by mere naked bodies. It's a whole complicated very personal world we are taught to automatically feel ashamed of. It's a personal mood, taste, kink, type, fetish, and of course, it starts and ends in the mind. So much so that when it comes to turning yourself on, you can't do it because someone is naked and going down on you, you can only do it with seducing your specific mind with what it sexually craves.

But we are collectively and extremely sex starved that we become nations of hungry people eating the first thing they manage to put in their plate, for a starved person doesn't get to pick what they eat. They go for the bare minimum, or less. That porn star who couldn't get it up still have a better sex life than most people I know. We talk a lot about how bad porn is to the mind because it confirms our worldview, so nobody talks about how bad our actual sex life is, we are either masturbating alone as our little dirty secret, or we are denied our right to even admit we have personal nontraditional sexual cravings, cause you'd instantly be a filthy animal.

I read an article once in Psychology Today about how porn psychologically affects the sex life of married couples, bearing in mind we're Not talking about porn addicts who consume porn excessively, and you know what it basically said? The therapist didn't preach us about how porn automatically damages our sex life, but rather said what I always thought, that couples who had no problem with porn, found it arousing and helpful, and other couples who were uncomfortable with it, found it to be harmful, and consider it disloyalty if they found out their partner watches porn.

So your personal beliefs and preferences can make or break your sexual experience? And manifest itself physically? There's no "one ring that rules them all"? No ultimate manual or guideline that applies on everyone of us? Go figure.

You know, Napoleon once sent a letter to his wife saying "Home in three days, don't bathe", and it never grossed me out, in fact, it felt genuine, intimate sex as it should be, sex IS gross, we're fancy apes, who worry too much about looking our best, like it's a goddamn performance test. Like the brain doesn't fire bursts of electrical impulses from nowehere to nowehere during sex. Like it's not all about how ripe the moment is, how ripe your labia is, how ripe your cock is, how ripe your whole state of being is, and to be with a person who knows how to play the instrument of your body, cause they know, cause they made it safe for you to say, is sexier than every porn clip and every meaningless sex and every traditional soulless sex.

There's been a trend that looks down on passion cause it's a luxury for those who can afford it, missing the fact that just because something is out of reach, doesn't mean it's not important. We adapt to not having passionate lives by claiming it's silly to try to find our passions in life. But you know what eventually happens? We become a porn star doing his job and not be able to command his body to betray its nature. We become a porn star who sooner or later wouldn't be able to get it up.

#تأملات في الجنس

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writingpei · 2 years ago

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wicked games (l.m.) - chapter fourteen

previous chapter series masterlist next chapter

pairing: lee minho x reader genre: academic rivals to lovers wc: 5.2k words

i still don't know where everything went

it was practically possible to hear the sound of the clock hands moving second by second in the silent room, filling the environment with a constant tick-tock. the pen's weight was tangible in her palm, as if it were made of lead, and the rhythm of its heavy strain fed the up and down movement of her chest, drenched in nervousness that didn't seem to have disappeared.

the minutes continued to pass, and the questions on the physics test in front of y/n were answered one by one, with absolute caution, as if she was following a fragile surgery, as if at any moment some bogeyman might appear out of nowhere in the room if she wasn't delicate.

she was well aware that her decision to go to work had significantly reduced the time she would put into her academic performance, but she was never someone who allowed herself to be easily shaken.

now, it was no longer her who taught hyunjin, but studied with him, keeping an eye out for the materials he reviewed when there weren't any in the cafe so that she could take advantage of even the free seconds she had, which became scarcer with the pass the days.

she knew she was being left behind in the eternal competition that was her and minho's relationship, and despite all the hate that many viewers would consider "uncalled for", she found herself a little scarred by an anger that burned her chest like a forrest. fire whenever she saw him in the hallways, backs against lockers laughing out loud at silly things with his friends without a care in the world. the poster child for the aristocratic lifestyle of today's society, a boy with the world in his hands and people who worked for him cleaning his shoes kneeling on the floor of the huge mansion he lived in.

it was nothing more than a raw and genuine hatred inside y/n when all the paths her mind went through when thinking about minho came to the inevitable conclusion that this, all of this was a sport for him. studying was a sport, getting good grades was a sport, excelling, being popular, winking at dumb girls across the cafeteria like you were television's newest heartthrob. it was all one big joke and when she looked at how she led her life, the lack of jokes was almost suffocating, a snake around her neck all the time just waiting for the right time to coil completely against her flesh.

when she felt pathetic, she tried to imagine him cleaning the cafeteria bathrooms using only a toilet brush, or having to listen to customers throwing tantrums over a cup of coffee with a smile on his face, not being able to retort or shout back. these thoughts brought her out of her own exasperated situation and made her laugh. she couldn't tell if it was because of the strangeness of minho's presence in these scenarios, how he would look wearing the uniform she has to wear every day, or if it was because, greater than this hatred was the restless desire that maybe, just maybe, lee minho wasn't exactly how she imagined he was.

but she knew it was impossible for that to be real. it was impossible because minho had only shown her his true personality, so she knew her like no one else.

the anger heats up until it cools down and settles in the throat like a stone, accompanied by a feeling of disgust. despite the considerable efforts she had made, her second-place name on the huge ranking list at the entrance to the school screamed in her face that they hadn't been enough. and the damn name of minho was above hers. she could only feel disgust. disgusted because of him? it was no longer a surprise to anyone. however, the disgust she felt was mostly directed at herself. she should have studied harder, spent more late nights studying until her hand ached and her eyes burned with exhaustion.

but now it was too late, and his failure was exposed to all who walked those halls. the feeling of dismay followed her, like a constant shadow, reminding her that her expectations were not met and that she had lost the opportunity to win.

as soon as she turned to flee to the classroom for her first class of the day, she saw minho walking towards the panel, eyes glazed over the top to see who had won, who had gotten the best grade.

she didn't wait long to witness the look of satisfaction on his stupid face and soon she was stomping against the floor, a red fury circling her entire body and she didn't even consider taking a step to the side to avoid him, and she certainly didn't feel pity when she bumped into him with her shoulder, knocking him off balance slightly.

she only heard a scoff behind her but didn't even bother to turn around, however much she felt like it when she heard him whisper “you need to be tamed, jesus”

but, contrary to what one might imagine, no ghost of a smile appeared on minho's lips when he saw his name at the top. all he could think about was what it meant to have his name on top of all those others, a hierarchy. he imagined his father's satisfaction at seeing him do exactly what he'd demanded, a silent submission, a reminder that minho was just the son and that no matter how much he kicked and rebelled, his father would always win.

he felt a bitter taste in his mouth.

“minho" yongbok appeared beside him magically, as if he had materialized there. “i met professor choi on his way here and he asked me to give you your test and congratulated you on first place”

the sheet of paper that yongbok held out to minho made a wave of discomfort run down his spine, but he took it from his best friend's hand none the less.

he looks down at the sheet and looks at the shoulder where the girl had bumped into it on purpose for a few seconds, before the urge to rip the test in half takes over him. ripped it into a thousand pieces and threw it in the nearest garbage, leaving yongbok with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

he pointed at minho, then at the trash can, then at minho, then at the trash can.

“but… why?” he asked.

“it’s just a stupid test, yongie” he shrugged putting his hands in the pocket of his uniform pants and walking unbothered while some people congratulated him on his performance in the hall.

but yongbok didn't understand, so he chose to ask more.

“stupid? i thought you cared about that kind of thing”

“no, at least not now. i have other things keeping me up all night”

“i wonder who that is…” yongbok whispers and pushes the big glasses back into place with his finger.

“what was that?” minho asks suspiciously, having just heard rumbles coming from the friend. minho still can't quite catch the things he whispers when he doesn't want him to hear. it's a normal thing to happen within their friendship, yongbok doesn't know how to shut up and minho can't mature enough to leave his nosy lifestyle behind.

“do you want to go with me to the varsity basketball game on friday?” yongbok asks him as they walk through the noisy halls. minho never went to a basketball game with him in all their years of friendship because when minho didn't want to do something, nothing could make him do it, it didn't matter how much he loved his best friend.

but this time, unlike previous opportunities, minho had a real and concrete reason for not wanting to go. a person, to be precise. as he dragged his steps down the hall, he could see the blond boy approaching, standing out among the other bustling and noisy football players. a feeling of disgust that rose from his feet to his head in a matter of seconds took over his entire body, while yongbok, beside him, seemed mesmerized by the presence of the school's basketball team.

minho's eyes locked on the approaching figure. he had never noticed hwang hyunjin until he bloomed in his field of vision like a very insistent weed. apparently he was the only one who hadn't fallen into the hands of the undeniable charisma he didn't care to hide. for minho, beneath that charming smile and effortless charm, there's something about hyunjin that rubbed him the wrong way. he couldn't explain if it was a gratuitous animosity that resided in the back of his mind, but it was strong enough to make his breath get heavier every time he saw him.

his friend turns to him so quickly, minho wonders if he had a whiplash.

“please minhoooo” for a second he thinks that yongbok, the shy and withdrawn boy who never raised his hand to ask a classroom question in his life was going to kneel on the floor of the packed hallway and beg.

the group of basketball players passes by the two and the air in the hallway disappears for minho. hyunjin smiles at his friends without a care in the world as he hears one of them saying “hyunjin, your pitch was great! i've never seen anyone score that far from the basket!”, cheeks reddening a little at the cheers of his teammates.

minho's eyes travel between him and his friend a few times, until his expression suddenly darkens and he turns to yongbok. “calm down” he says, seeing his best friend's anxious expression. “no need to make a scandal out of it, i’ll go with you”

the words are bitter in his throat but yongbok opens a huge smile and it seems once again that he is going to throw himself on his knees in the corridor, this time to thank him, but minho doesn't give him time to do that and soon starts walking towards the classroom for their first class, lip between teeth and head away from where his feet were taking him.

y/n has never had an easy time functioning in crowded places, a bonus is when those (many) people are screaming like animals and squirming in their seats as if they were trying to keep from flying off their chairs.

her constant hesitation to enter the large gymnasium in the midst of all the revelry and excitement was constant throughout his journey from the cafe to school, under the slowly darkening sky, leaving a gentle farewell to the brightness of the day and giving way to night. her journey was longer than she thought it was going to be, partly because her shift had been increased by a few minutes and her insecurity forced her feet to walk more slowly, needless to say, she was obviously late.

but all roads lead to rome or whatever, and she's been staring at the entrance to the gym for the last few minutes as if, if she walked in, she would be consumed by it.

the screams that rang out to her from the other side, outside the party, were wild and just made her want to get as far away as she could and go seek comfort in the dark and lonely cubicle that was her home, but her feet remained rooted to the ground, neither going in nor leaving.

she just found the courage to put her hand on the doorknob because she remembered the message that hyunjin had sent her earlier: a photo of the place he had reserved specifically for her. it was a front row seat, the most privileged and coveted by those who genuinely enjoy that spectacle of sweaty men hitting each other and running like dogs after a ball.

the seat was the most apparent and she was late, hyunjin must have noticed. she just opened the door because of that. she didn't want to upset him and destabilize him in his most important game, and he really wanted her to be there, for some reason.

sea of screams and cheers hit her full on as soon as the door was opened and the exasperated sound of tennis shoes against the polished wood of the court floor showed that the game was already close. y/n walked quickly to the only empty seat right in front of the court, where there was a yellow sticky note with the word “RESERVED” written in large, shaky letters, staining the paper black.

she sat quickly, taking in every detail of what was going on around her. hyunjin's team was dressed in vibrant orange jerseys, while the rival school's team sported uniforms in a deep shade of dark blue. the players on hyunjin's team moved around the court with an almost choreographed precision, like roots in a perfectly rehearsed dance.

the ball did not remain for more than five seconds in the hands of a single player, passing quickly from one side to the other. it was a frenzy of intense contests, a relentless battle for control of the element that dictates the game. every possession was a source of palpable tension.

it wasn't hard to find hyunjin in the middle, the hair gave it away, vibrating as if it wanted to be seen, to draw attention. he had a focused look on his face, his feet moving him across the court with mastery, and for the first time, she could understand why he wanted so badly to devote his life to this. she definitely hadn't seen him with the same full of life eyes looking at the endless math worksheets.

the court came alive with every jump, every dribble and every accurate shot. energy pulsed through the air, enveloping everyone present, as excited fans applauded and cheered with each play behind her back. it was as if the game itself was a living entity with a life of its own.

in the blink of an eye the ball stops in hyunjin's hands. his eyes quickly scanned the opposing defense, looking for an opening, and with a dribble he was already heading towards the basket. his purposeful stride, hard against the floor, stopped abruptly and morphed into a jump, and at the apex of his rise, he reached out, releasing the ball in a perfect arc.

the entire gym exploded with joy as soon as the ball went into the basket. hyunjin returned to the floor with a smile and a heavy breath, and his gaze went directly to her chair, regretting y/n not having seen his move.

but she had already arrived and was right there.

y/n didn't scream or jump, but a discreet smirk and slow clapping was her celebration for her friend's point, and he was happy because that was the most he could get out of her in that situation. she found herself silently rooting for hyunjin and his team, even though she didn't want to admit it. she didn't want to budge on something she considered so silly, but they were friends now, weren't they? hyunjin had said they were, but his words that could very well be empty didn't make her discover what it was like to be friends with someone overnight, and as much as she imagined that the normal thing within a friendship was to share that kind of joy, the idea of opening herself up to someone still made her body tingle and her breath hitch.

but at that moment, where his teammates were ruffling her hair and congratulating him, she couldn't stop herself from clapping louder, only stopping when the game had returned to normal and the frantic rushing back and forth across the street square will return.

her attention, however, was stolen when her phone started to vibrate inside her purse, which was an unusual occurrence, giving that she almost never received messages.

she reached down to retrieve it from the bag that was on the floor beside her chair, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the “ignore” contact texting.

ignore:

i need to talk to you

ignore:

it's about the study groups thing we have to prepare

her gaze goes up once more to the game, but the magic was gone, which was normal with anything that lee minho got into; for her, ruined. a wave of anger crept up her spine like a parasite. why did he have to send a message right now? it wasn't like she expected minho not to be an inconvenience in general, but she wasn't going to stop being irritated with him no matter how much his antics were awaited.

y/n:

i can't, i'm busy

the message was written with exasperated fingers, and quickly sent. but realized she had forgotten to add something.

y/n:

and don't text me anymore, i'll talk to you tomorrow morning

when she was about to put the phone back in her purse, the screen lit up again, revealing yet another message. she couldn't fight the instinct to ignore it and soon brought it close to her face once more.

ignore:

own, you'd rather i call than text and you're too embarrassed to admit it?

ignore:

if you want to hear my voice so badly, let's meet in the schoolyard to talk about what we have to do

her face heated with anger and embarrassment, even though she was never going to admit that he elicited any reaction from her that wasn't just hatred and disgust.

y/n:

i already told you i'm busy, minho, i know you can't help but be a pain in the ass 24/7 but now is not a good time, you'll have a lot of time to bother me tomorrow

her attention was snapped back to the game once more as the crowd roared, and apparently hyunjin had scored yet another point. he was smiling as he looked at her in the crowd and gave her a thumbs up, which she instinctively returned without thinking.

the messages stopped for a few minutes and she thought he had left her alone once and for all, but the shy vibration that indicated a new message made her huff and quickly bring the phone closer.

ignore:

i thought you really wanted to be student president, but i guess you just wanted the win, my mistake

ignore:

i'll have to do all of it by myself…

and now he was teasing her pride at his fingertips, and the anger she knew so well every time she interacted with or thought about him came on like a lightswitch.

minho knew he was pushing all the right buttons to piss her off, partly because of years of practice with everything to do with her and partly because he was looking at her, higher up in the bleachers, with a hawk's stare.

from the moment she had entered the court, his eyes had been irrevocably drawn to her, as if she were a walking magnet, and there they remained fixed for a long time. not even when Yongbok grabbed him by the arm, anticipating the basket the player was about to make, could he look away. it was so impossible to even imagine seeing her there, at a high school basketball game. however, what made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up was his theory about why she was there. the motive for that was inside the court, moving majestically across the polished floor with a cockiness that minho thought was all he could take in about him. y/n's eyes were glued to hyunjin's figure, and somewhere in his chest he swore that she was playing with his ego somehow, even though he didn't fully understand what that meant.

he was overcome by a brutally suffocating feeling and felt an unchanging urge that he needed to do something soon to break the gaze she was extending towards hyunjin. he needed it, it was almost vital, but if someone asked him why he would have nothing to answer, but he wasn't worried about his lack of motives, much less his thoughts about what it said about him and what he possibly felt for her instead of the insignificance and disdain he so pledged to feel.

he took the cell phone in a swift motion from the pocket of his uniform blazer and went straight to the contact list.

minho had lied the last time they'd seen each other, during the incident of sooyound locking them in the file room. he'd had her number for years, since begining of high school. it had been very difficult to get it and it really was a long journey, but when he got an idea in his head, he didn't give up easily. what if he wanted to start pestering through her on her phone too? what if she disappeared out of nowhere and never went to class again? what if he just wanted to talk to her? it was always good to be prepared, he told himself during the nights when he had trouble sleeping and he checked the list of contacts just to prove to himself that she was still there, that the contact hadn't been magically erased.

one day he had called her in the middle of the night, a year before, just to test if that number really belonged to her. it was two in the morning and the night was silent, so silent it was too loud for me, and sleep would not come to him at all, no matter how many times he tossed and turned in bed. the cell phone magically appeared in his hand and the contact was already open, curiosity bubbled in his chest and he didn't fight against it for a long time, pressing on top of the phone icon and quickly touching the cell phone to his ear.

the ringing noise seemed to go on forever, and minho was starting to get anxious. for a second, he was afraid that she would know he was the one calling and his fingers itched to hang up the call, but as soon as he moved the phone an inch away from his ear, the noise ceased and was replaced by silence.

"hello?" her voice is hoarse on the other end of the line, showing that she had just woken up.

minho's mouth opened slightly, wondering what to reply, but he stopped himself from letting any words escape his lips. perhaps, if he spoke, everything would be ruined, and a giant inexplicable fear rose in his chest.

“it’s 2 in the morning, what the hell...” he could hear her scoff, but it was in a different way from the scoffs she gave in his presence. she sounded more vulnerable, there was a fragility that seemed to echo in her very core. he was also vulnerable. he didn't know if it was the nocturnal silence that stripped him of his usual mask, the games and teasing that used to mark their interactions, but he did know that it was very different from anything he'd ever been through together with her.

“say something” she whispered on the other end of the line like an impatient but gentle plea. gentle was never a word he thought he could use with her, but all the others he could say fled his mind. the sound of her breathing echoed free as he held his to make as little sound as possible on his end of the line. “say something or i will hang up” she says, more determined but still nowhere near her usual attitude.

minho didn't say anything, he just took his hand slowly until it reached his face and covered his own mouth, pressing it. he knew he wouldn't say anything, but even so, he found it necessary to physically forbid himself, as if something was taking over him and he opened his mouth and said something he shouldn't.

she remained for a few more seconds that seemed eternal, only the sound of her breathing and some groans of tiredness for being woken up reached minho's ears, but he waited patiently to see what she would do.

“well, have a good night then” she said softly and minho brought his legs closer to his chest, curling up. “since you decided to call someone at 2 in the morning and not say anything…” she was stubborn no matter the situation. “don’t wake up anyone else with prank calls like you did right now” was the last thing he heard before the call was disconnected. if he was no longer able to sleep, the rest of his night was spent awake trying to imagine if what had happened had just been a hallucination in his head and, after that, he never dared to look at her contact again.

that is, until that moment.

he opened her contact and started sending her messages, messages where he feigned disdain but gulped as he wrote. when she looked away from the phone to look at hyunjin and give him a thumbs up that's when his patience was cut short and he let out a huff through his nose and sat on the edge of his seat, gripping his phone tightly.

“nice shot!” yongbok exclaimed, clapping his hands wildly to celebrate the school's lead in the game. it was only then that he realized that minho's body was turned sideways towards the court, not even watching the game, and after whispering a "what are you doing?" softly, his eyes followed the direction where his best friend was looking, and noticed the scene, where hyunjin was looking at her right after scoring his point and minho's knuckles turning white around the cell phone, which was open in a chat with a contact with the name “y/n”.

“what are you doing?” yongbok repeated it louder this time so that minho could hear. he didn't turn around to answer his friend, he just lowered his head and went back to looking at his cell phone and typing quickly.

“solving something” he answered simply.

minho, now without self-restraint, opted to openly tease her, joking about the fact that she won the election just to get a rise out of her. and he knew it had worked, because her shoulders hunched as she read what he'd written.

the typing symbol appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again and disappeared from view again. minho waited for her answer, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor.

y/n:

you have 1 minute and that's it

and her answer made a smile appear on his face, and when she started to rise discreetly from her chair, he quickly got to his feet and started to dodge the people sitting next to him, trying to get to her as quickly as possible.

y/n waited to get out of her chair in the middle of a play, while hyunjin wasn't looking, and made sure to leave her purse on top of the chair so he knew she didn't just leave. she walked discreetly to the entrance of the gym, and when she had passed through the door and was closing it, it was opened on the other side, where minho appeared right in front of her.

her breath shook as soon as she saw him, and he was panting as if he'd hurried to get to her. the realization that he too was watching the game and yet pestering her to talk to her made her even more uncomfortable, and she just took a step back to put distance between them and crossed her arms.

“1 minute, and don't abuse it” she turns around until she leans her back against the wall next to the door and looks at him with her head up and her nose in the air.

minho just took short steps until he stood in front of her, regaining the closeness she broke off, a huge gratification in getting her out of the gym that he couldn't explain.

“sooyoung spoke to me today, she said that we need to do full reports with all students who are interested in joining the tutoring group. i'll do one part and you'll do the other, then we'll put it all together when it's ready,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth that he can't quite control.

"is that it?" she asked in disbelief. “is that the only reason you were bugging me nonstop?”

"me?" he chuckled and also crossed his arms, mimicking her. “bugging you? what are you talking about, y/n? i was just talking to you, it's not my fault you get so rilled up every time you talk to me"

she rolled her eyes and stepped away from the wall, taking a small step towards him and looking him in the eyes.

"is that it?"

the proximity made minho stop for a few seconds, just looking back at her, thinking of something to reply to her. time passed slowly and he only awoke from his trance and looked away when a wave of cheers erupted in the gym and escaped through the thin door beside them. he swallows hard and takes a micro step back, backing up slightly.

“that was it” he whispers without any jokes or comebacks, because during all that time nothing came to his mind except the memory of the day he called her in the middle of the night, as if that memory that had been kept for so long had been unlocked into his brain without further ado.

she snorts with a know-it-all look and tries to circle him to make her way back to the gym, but an anxiety creeps up his spine and he unconsciously steps to the side and places himself in front of her once more. she stops in her step so she doesn't bump into him and looks up at him again, confused by his sudden movement.

“what the hell, minh-” before she could finish the sentence, the door next to them bursts open, and hwang hyunjin, breathing quickly for air, appears in their field of vision.

hyunjin looks at y/n and opens a smile the size of the universe and doesn't even notice minho's presence, and even after noticing, he doesn't care.

“y/n!” he exclaims, walking up to the two. "where have you been? you missed the endgame!”

he grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her out of minho's way.

“oh…” she starts to say, shame rising in her chest. she gives minho an angry look, before turning her attention to her friend once more. “i’m sorry, i…”

“we won!” hyunjin exclaims and the hands on her shoulders yanked her forward as he led her back into the gym. “let's go celebrate! you left your bag in there too, didn't you?"

the door closes, leaving minho alone in the night breeze. he gives in to the uncontrollable urge to bring his hands to his face and press them hard against his eyes, wondering what the fuck has been wrong with him lately, and why the shoulders that were relaxed before in her brief presence are tense, once again.

stay tuned for chapter 15! new chapters (almost) every sunday ☆

taglist: @liphglos@kiyoomimybeloved@lilactangerine @swiftlydirectioning @lethallyprotected @yhawnnzz @whatthefsposts@sleepyleeji @ddazed-lhs @thatoneperson1911 @poutingbean (if you want to be a part of the taglist, send me an ask, comment or message <3)

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undertale-encyclopedia · 1 year ago

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Heres some games ive been playing:

Mario Wonder is very cool and a fun mario game, dont think its winning any serious awards though.

Got back to playing Super Lesbian Animal RPG, if you are any one of those adjectives i suggest checking it out. Cute and emotional and really funny and epic swaggy. i think theres a demo on their website also.

Mario RPG remake is fun. i found the lack of a more detailed soundscape to be odd, no text noises and some enemies look like they should be making sounds but dont. i played the original like 4 years ago and thought it was fine, this feels more fun to play than that.

New Warioware was a little disappointing. No silly toys to unlock and motion controls were a little unresponsive at points.

I played a little bit of Who's Lila, which is like... a horror puzzle game about controlling your face? Its SO weird and so confusing and i got lost and kinda just dropped it. No idea about anything at all in this game.

My friend convinced me to play Dont Starve Together. A lot of "What the fuck do i do to live" and then "Ok everything i do makes it harder to survive". Started getting fun like 10 hours in once i started understanding things a bit more.

Deltarune Chapter 3 was alright, Stylep Groove was maybe my favorite song even though the fuckin channel switching puzzle was awful. Pierre my beloved....

Im not good at thinking, but despite that I decided to start playing FEZ. I havent gotten to anything really puzzley yet but so far its charming.

Other hyperfixation i have rn is Keyboards. Im looking into getting a pretty custom keyboard that sounds nice and feels good. Im still researching switches, ordered some test ones today! Dont know what im gonna do about a case though, but i know i need a hotswappable one because i REFUSE to solder anything. (if you have any suggestions please let me know :) )

And uhhh think thats about it WAIT! Music recommendations. Very into Vylet Pony rn, and EX-LYD released a new single thats pretty nice. Also slowly going through Patricia Taxxon's "TECHDOG", which goes from "strange, slightly overwhelming noise that are sometimes bops" to "i feel like i just jacked my brain into a computer and god is speaking to me through it".

alright thats it. have fun today :)

#ramblings

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 1 year ago

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reading update: july 2023

I don't have a cool and witty opening for this one. I read a fuck of a lot of books this month and I want to tell you about them LET'S GO

Black Water Sister (Zen Cho, 2021) - Black Water Sister has a very fun premise: a closeted lesbian and unemployed recent graduate moves back to Malaysia with her parents and is already having a bad enough time when she starts hearing the voice of her dead grandmother, who turns out to have been deeply involved in supernatural organized crime. our hapless protagonist becomes a medium against her will, and has to navigate to world of Malaysian spirits and superstition to lay her grandma to rest. unfortunately the actual style of the story wasn't more me; although definitely adult fiction, the prose is breezy in a way I affiliate strongly with YA, which is not to my personal taste but is still so hashtag valid. if you're one of the countless people trying to make that jump from YA to adult fiction and you like queer urban fantasy then Black Water Sister might be a great fit for you, although I should provide a warning for a pretty surprisingly graphic near-rape in the book's climax that really took me by surprise in a story that's otherwise pretty zany in its violence.

The Bride Test (Helen Hoang, 2019) - I think I said last month that Alexis Hall's A Lady for a Duke was the best so far of the romance-novel-every-month scheme I'm trying to pull off this year. the Bride Test has pretty swiftly displaced it; have I finally discovered the really good romance novels? (worry not; I know what I'm reading for August and my hopes are. low.) our two protagonists, Mỹ/Esme (her chosen American/English name) and Khai, are both genuinely charming and are pretty strong characters independent of each other, which cannot be said for A Lot of romance protags. despite the absolute insanity of how they met (yes, Khai's mother went to Vietnam and offered, uneducated a poor single mother a tourist visa in exchange for trying to seduce her autistic son. yes, that's shady. don't think about it too hard) and Esme waiting until WAY too late in the game to reveal the existence of HER LIVING HUMAN CHILD, I liked this book a lot. it's silly and heartfelt and I had fun; what else do you need? 5/5 eggplant emojis.

Giovanni's Room (James Baldwin, 1956) - there's probably nothing I can say about Giovanni's Room that I could say that someone smarter and gayer hasn't already said, but god. it really is breathtaking. I so often see this book talked about as a gay tragedy, and honestly that feels like almost too glib of a description. it's a really meticulous dissection of white male masculinity and the claustrophobic constraints there of, and our narrator's claustrophobic fear of divesting himself from the power that he's entitled to by virtue of being a white American man perceived as a heterosexual. this man would rather live in repressed misery for his entire life than risk being like those effeminate faggots at the gay club, but spoiler alert! being miserable doesn't make you better than your fellow fags; it just means you're miserable AND a fag. sharp and painful and so so so smart. also I'm going to summon @zaricats because I was supposed to tell you what I thought about this book. oops!

Lone Women (Victor LaValle, 2023) - okay so listen. did I just say Black Water Sister wasn't really for me because of the simplistic prose? yes. did I really enjoy the very sparse, straightforward style of Lone Women? also yes. leave me alone, I contain contradictions. anyway, Lone Women is a ripping piece of historical fiction spliced with supernatural secrets, based on LaValle's research into 19th century Black women homesteaders who made their lives in Montana. LaValle opens on a scene of irresistible intrigue - Adelaide Henry, lone woman, sets out for Montana with a mysteriously heavy trunk after burning down her family's California farm with her parents' mutilated corpses inside. and boy, does it escalate from there! it's a story about isolation and community and the people who are failed by so-called close knit small towns, and the ways in which vulnerable people band together to protect one another. it also makes the compelling point that maybe, just maybe, the real monsters were your local transphobe and her husband's lynch mob all along.

Black Disability Politics (Sami Schalk, 2022) - what a cool book! Schalk's argument begins with the idea that Black disability politics are distinct from predominantly white mainstream disability politics, and are therefore often overlooked in conversation, activism, and academia. Schalk analyzes the historical work of the Black Panthers and the National Black Women's Health Project to showcase what she describes as Black disability politics in action. in Schalk's conception, Black disability politics take a much more holistic approach to disability, conceptualizing as just one form (and, frequently, as a result of) of oppression tangled up with a myriad of others that cannot be meaningfully addressed when they're treated as separate issues. the book concludes in interviews with contemporary Black disability activists and organizers that shed light on ways in which the wider movement is often unwelcoming to folks of color, and an exhortation from Schalk for readers to continue the conversation well beyond the confines of the book. in a killer show of praxis, the entire book has been made available to read in PDF form, and I strongly recommend giving it a look!

The River of Silver (S.A. Chakraborty, 2022) - mentally I am kicking myself a little for waiting so long to read this continuation of my beloved Daevabad trilogy, because it did take me a minute to get back into the swing and mythology of the world and that did make me feel unpleasantly like I wasn't appreciating these character-focused short stories as much as I could be. but even having said that - man! fuck I love the world of Daevabad, and I adore these characters so much. getting to see them again, even briefly, was a delight, and I am once again congratulating Nahri and Ali on being the invention of heterosexual romance. (also, on a related note, but I ADORE the way Chakraborty writes her characters having crushes. they crush SO hard and it's very sweet. these books are such big drama all the way down.)

Men We Reaped (Jesmyn Ward, 2013) - an absolute powerhouse of a memoir, and devastating the whole way down. in Men We Reaped Ward attempts to make sense of a series of tragedies that befell her community when five young Black men - beginning with Ward's younger brother - died between 2000 and 2004. the word 'unflinching' is hopelessly played out, but it's difficult to figure out how to describe the head-on way Ward explores each young man's life and ultimate end and her own upbringing. the men in Ward's history - her brother, the friends she lost, her father and other male relatives - are never idealized; their demons, miseries, infidelities, addictions, and violence are placed on full display. but Ward is also insistent on displaying these men with dignity, compassion, empathy; showing them at their best and, most importantly, as men who were loved and deserved better than the violence that poverty and racism wrought on them. it's a furious memoir, one that will leave you mourning too.

Nimona (ND Stevenson, 2015) - did I only read this so I can make more informed complaints if/when I end up watching the netflix movie with my wife? YES. but listen, it wasn't JUST petty hater behavior. Nimona is just really good, and I think I got a lot more out of it this time around that I did when I first read it years ago. this comic is wild and unfettered and so spectacularly weird; I wish more things felt the way Nimona does. I also with more things starred small girls begging to kill cops and stage a violent overthrow of the government, that rules hard. also man I love Ballister, he's SUCH a good protagonist. he's curmudgeonly, he's deeply principled, he's held a grudge for years, he's paternal, he's even gay. what a guy!

#reading updates

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evolutionsvoid · 2 years ago

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An endless black hell, that is where I must be. The path before me forged of obsidian tar, shrouded by a night that knows no end. Ahead lies nothingness, but behind me is more of the same. There is no escape, no logic, I have long accepted that now. It seems to be the only fact that can be found in this void, as the rest is just asphalt and darkness. Yet, I drive on, because that is really all I can do. It is either that or just give up. Pull my car off to the side of the road (wouldn't want to obstruct this path of damnation), kill the engine and just wait for the end. Just sit in this cramped metal prison until I rot, but would that even happen? I am driving in a car that has no gas, in a world of ceaseless roads and fields, where the sun cannot be found despite days passing. Would I actually starve to death? Or die of thirst? It feels like I obviously would, but when my mind drifts to thoughts of food and drink, I don't find myself wanting. How can I not be hungry? How am I not parched from doing nothing but mindlessly driving for hours? Perhaps time doesn't exist here, just like all other rules of reality. It is almost silly for me to realize this now. Of course time is broken, of course this is just some frozen limbo that has no end. What good would all this torment be if I simply perished from thirst? No, I must remain alive, remain driving this lonely road. It is my punishment, though I don't know why. What did I do to deserve this? What horrible sin did I commit? What god did I offend to be condemned to this timeless prison? I cannot say. Perhaps it isn't even meant to be torture, maybe I just turned down the wrong road. Honestly, I don't know which option is worse...

I have yet to accept the idea of giving up, of bringing my futile quest to a halt, so I just keep driving on. Maybe determination is the answer to this hell, that persevering will eventually bring me to a conclusion. Follow this road for weeks, months, or maybe years and then the angels will come down and congratulate me for passing this insane test. But that is unlikely to happen. There is nothing to be gained from mindlessly cruising down this empty road, just more asphalt and darkness. As if in a trance, I just let cruise control do its thing and I let the car take me down this path to damnation. How long will my noble steed last? Though gas doesn't seem to exist around here, can I pop a tire? Can the engine die? Perhaps that is what will finally kill me. When I twist the key and send this metal beast into slumber, its glowing eyes fading away in the night. When the light and the purr of the engine finally die, then I too shall perish. The darkness and tar that surrounds me will surge inward at last and devour me, and I will be just like those rotten tar globs that scatter the path. Maybe I should try it, just to see. It sounds like it would be a relief at this point, to finally end it all. Surely a swift and deadly conclusion would be better than toiling away for eternity in this void of a countryside. It does sound tempting, but I cannot fool myself. Despite my wishes for the end, my hand still pauses and shakes when it reaches for the key. I still hesitate and wonder if this will truly be the end. Call me a fool, call me a coward, but I cannot bring myself to shut this vehicle off and let the night take hold.....yet. The road widened again adding more lanes to this monotonous trek. It just seems to do that the deeper I dive. Will there be a time when the grass and dirt vanish too? When these maddening roads run into one another and make a world of pure tar and paint? Perhaps. I cannot say for certain that it won't happen, as there are truly no absolutes here. Except for the one where I will absolutely never make it back to the real world. I will never see another building, human being or even a road sign ever again. So I guess there are no good absolutes here. If it is bad, then yeah, free game. Just keep driving and see what unfolds. For the first time in what feels like weeks, I see a structure ahead of me. It looms in the darkness, my headlights finally hitting something besides empty road and twisted metal monstrosities. The flash of pale gray cement woke me from my mindless driving, startling me so that I instinctively hit the brakes. My steed slowed to a crawl, and I could take the second I needed to truly understand what I was looking at. Cement pillars rising upwards into the night sky, arranged in lines and sloping patterns. An overpass. A bridge crossing over my dark path, where it is coming and going I couldn't say. For a moment I had a bit of hope. A new road, a new path. Somewhere else to go, or at least a radical change in scenery. But could I abandon the road I have been stuck on for so long? Would changing directions help my situation, or even change it in the slightest? No one could know, but it wound up not mattering. The second I drove further towards these cement pillars I realized that there was no new road to worry about. There was an overpass, or at least parts of a couple. What stood atop these structures were garbled chunks of bridge and rebar, arranged by a messy toddler with too many toys. There was no coherent bridge to be found, and I uselessly noted that there wasn't even an on ramp. Someone chopped a dozen overpasses into pieces and then scattered and stacked them with reckless abandon. The craziest intersections or tangled web of ramps found in the real world paled in comparison to this awesome architectural mess. Some bridge pieces ran into the sides of others, colliding with the cement barriers usually meant to keep cars from plummeting to their doom. Some chunks stood alone, looking like a lost chess piece left standing on an empty board. Some bridges were actually long enough to serve as one, if they hadn't looped onto themselves to create an infinite spiral. Others were stacked atop each other so high that I couldn't see where they ended. My headlights couldn't illuminate enough of them, and even craning my neck upwards didn't let me see the top of this mangled toy set. But my searching upwards did allow me to spot another new thing amongst the drab chaos. This twisted nest of road parts didn't stand empty, as an occupant was found atop it all. It was perched atop a random piece of scattered bridge, looking down upon me like a vulture eyeing a sizzling piece of roadkill. Its great metal limbs arched in such a way, that it made it looked hunched over. Thick sheets of tar dripped from its cobbled together frame, as if it sought to cloak itself in this noxious material. What had caught my eye was the blinking of orange lights, a steady rhythmic pulsing as if it was tied to a heart. A shiny black slab served as some kind of face, and strange arrangements of these orange blinkers gave the sense of crude eyes. Its hunched body held itself with iron claws, digging into the cement as if it was made of chewing gum. The way its whole form leaned over the edge, its strange face pointed downwards, gave me the sense of a judge staring down at a defendant from their towering bench. Though it had no real eyes or facial features, my body knew it was staring at me. The way my hair stood on end and with how my heart pounded in my chest, I knew. Once again, I was being acknowledged by a denizen of these endless realm, with no idea if it would finally take action against my presence. Would it pounce from its perch and drop onto my vehicle like an metal owl seeking to tear me to pieces? Would its pulsing face change into a signal for others, calling forth its brethren with the promise of flesh and steel to devour? No, that didn't happen. Like the times before, it only stared. Unlike the other two, it didn't carry on with its task, if it even had one. Perhaps this thing's only job was to stand guard, and watch all who came down this doomed road. I stared at it for hours, and it did the same for me. But at last, the shock of the encounter wore off and I decided to continue on. I slowly rolled under the tangled nest of bridges, keeping the speedometer just barely above the ten, as if speeding would anger this dripping sentinel. It did watch me as I passed under its home, but eventually its glowing face turned away and found something more interesting to stare at. The bridges and their guardian vanished into the darkness behind me, and I was once again left with the lonely open road. Just like before, I picked up speed and just kept rolling on...

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“Attention”

Been a while with these fellas!

#art #drawing #monster #creature #not really sure what to even tag this thing as

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