#i wanted to keep the premise vague but it's so difficult SO

[static-radio-ao3]

thursday snippy

thank you for tagging me @itsjaywalkers @magswrite & @sugarsnappeases MWAH

“All my dreams are no use, my love,” James says as he puts away his coals and paper. The black smudges on his fingers stain his shirt when he smooths it down. Regulus says nothing in return. Simply regards him, a fondness in his eyes that James feels down to his bones. “I know, I know. The real thing is better anyway. But I miss you at night. I can’t wait to wake up and see you.” Because some mornings, James wakes up aching and hard. Some mornings, James wakes up crying. And some mornings, James wakes up anxious. But every morning, James wakes up alone.

i think most people have done this now so open tag <;33

[junosmindpalace]

s/o asking dcst characters what hairstyle do they like the best on them? (like braid, low/high ponytail, bun, hair down, etc?) some fluff :)

preferably with senku, gen, ryusui, sai and tsukasa, but feel free to change the characters if you want to ^_^

thank you very much for you request!

a/n: if the premise didn't give it away...reader is implied to have long enough hair for styling in certain ways, but i did my best to be vague ;,)

SENKU: hair tied back.

-He’s not the type to care so much as to have a preference. Consciously, at least.

-But you spend loads of time with him in the lab, doing experiments or just spectating as he performs his own. Either way, most of your time with Senku is spent with your hair tied back. 

-Whether it be a headband or hair clips or a hair tie, you’ve gotta have it outta the way when you’re in the lab. So for the most part Senku is accustomed to seeing you with your hair back.

-And as everyone knows, science is his greatest love. He loves doing experiments, he loves learning about science, he loves talking about it, he loves it when people indulge him in his rants and is able to talk about it unfiltered with the person on the other end not only being able to keep up, but add on to the conversation meaningfully. 

-And you do all of that. 

-The connection here is weird, but bear with it!!

-There is nothing more attractive to Senku than someone who is passionate, and can keep up with him, as his general company usually cannot. Someone who takes an interest in his interests, and are capable and witty--and kind. 

-And because you spend so much time with Senku doing science related activities--going to museums, doing experiments, talking about theories, spending time in the lab--that big love of science sort of becomes synonymous with you.

-He starts seeing you just a little differently during all of those times when your hair is back; when you say something witty, when you laugh victoriously at a successful or aweful experiment, when you challenge his views with ideas of your own. When you best demonstrate your intellect and curiosity, all things that Senku finds leave a stirring in his chest and when he sort of views you at your most beautiful, your hair is tied back.

-So even though on the surface he really doesn’t care how you choose to wear your hair, subconsciously, he’ll always find you at your most beautiful when your hair is back, associating it with the thing that made him so attractive to you in the first place. 

“I don’t really care.”

“Can you not be difficult for once?” You deadpan from behind your goggles. He doesn’t even spare you a glance when he responds to your question, keeping his eyes trained on the various beakers in front of him as he circles the counter they were sitting on. You huff as you approach the opposite end of the counter, lowering yourself to be at eye level with his engrossed gaze. “I mean--really? You don’t have any style that stands out to you?”

“Maybe if you randomly shaved it all off.”

“So you like buzzcuts?” 

“I don’t care.” He repeats back, this time finally looking up to shoot you an irritated look through a slit in between two beakers, and you huff, muttering about how he’s no fun before getting back to the experiment at hand. 

But when he’s certain you aren’t paying attention to him any longer, he lets his eyes find you again, and they linger as he takes in your features. 

He can’t help but think back to your question as he does so, his mind simulating various styles he’s seen you wear your hair in almost like a makeover game. 

They’ve all been nice, every single one he envisions in his mind. Some quirkier and more elaborate than he personally prefers in general, but still; nice. 

The simulation ends in his mind's eye and he’s back to present day you, with your hair tied back as it often is with all the experiments the two of you work on, and he can’t help but think he has a certain appreciation he just can’t describe for it. All he knows is that he likes it and that it suits you it in a way that leaves his heart skipping a beat, and if he really had to answer your question, he’d probably say that he preferred this style.

GEN: hair down, framing face.

-It’s a more modern, glamorous preference, what can he say. 

-It’s pretty stereotypical, but there’s a reason why it’s so appealing. 

-He likes how perfect your hair looks, as if you came out of a dream. 

-It just takes his breath away; of course you look gorgeous any time, but when you go out of your way to style your hair all shiny with delicate and elaborate pieces framing your face, his breath gets caught in his throat and he’s staring a little too much. 

-It’s maybe because it’s more rare; you’re not always going to have the energy to style your hair so elaborately, so it’s more of a treat that he can’t help but appreciate. It’s a good kind of different. It only enhances your already gorgeous features and he can’t help but grow warm at the sight. 

-He’s embarrassing, really. It’s soo obvious he has this preference, but it’s also endearing the way he can’t stop making heart eyes at you. He’s sooo fucking smug with himself when you hold his arm when you wear your hair so elaborately, as if he’s showing off a treasure chest of gold--though not even all the jewels in the world could amount to you. 

-Also likes to twirl the framing pieces with his finger. He thinks he’s so slick, he tries to be 100% more charming. You just make him so nervous with how gorgeous you look, he feels the need to make up for his own feelings of inadequacy. Especially when other people also appreciate the look as well. 

“So you think I’m ugly, then?”

“I never said that!” 

You snort at his horrified expression, crying out defensively when you accused him of only finding you attractive with the glamorous hairstyles he had been dreamily going on and on about since you asked him, with his answer being a lot longer than you anticipated. 

“I’m kidding! But really? I rarely style my hair like that.”

“I can’t help what I like.” He replies simply, leaning an arm back against the trunk of the tree the two of you were sitting against as he leans over to tug at the ends of your hair. “It’s grown out a bit.” 

“Not like I can get a proper haircut in this era; or a glamorous look.”  You state frustratedly, observing both yours and Gen’s primitive clothing slightly distastefully. It could be absolutely worse, but you miss your old, comfortable, stylish clothes along with the elaborate do’s you’d get done for special events.

Gen could only turn his brows up empathically and offer you a shrug, pulling his hand away from your locks of hair. “Haaah…well, what can you do?” 

He stares at you from the corner of his eye, however, a playful smile dancing across his lips.

“You don’t need it, though. You look breathtaking all the time.” 

You snort again and roll your eyes at the exaggerated compliment, but lean in closer so you could rest your head against his shoulder. 

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

“Oh, you wound me.” 

RYUSUI: he likes them all…but likes when you accessorize your hair. 

-It’s criminal that you'd ask him such a question, really.

-When he absolutely ADORES all of them. 

-Each one makes you a different kind of endearing that he just can’t get enough of, from simple, lazier looks to time-consuming and expensive do’s that make you look like you belong on the red carpet--which he always thinks you do, by the way (not to mention he funds all your trips to your stylist).

-He genuinely has to wrack his brain and pick apart all of your looks if you really insist on him answering the question properly. He thinks of all the updos, all the curls and waves and straightening, all the specific cuts…and he STILL can’t pick a favorite.

-Sorry, you can’t get much more out of him than that. He can go on and explain the appeal of each one if that's what it’ll take for you to realize what you’re asking isn’t so easy to answer. 

-To satisfy you, however, he does say that he particularly loves it when you accessorize your hair in one way or another. He likes the creativity, and it just suits your hair type so well. Whatever it might be--pretty hair ties, any special head accessories, whatever--, he thinks it only enhances your already incredible look. 

“Ryusui, I don’t care about all that. Can you please just answer properly?”

He gets where your exasperation is coming from, truly; after all, he’s the one having the most difficulty answering your question as he illustrates in detail what’s going on in his mind as he thinks, every hairstyle having its own charm that he adores. 

“But how can I pick? I love them all!” 

You frown at him for a moment before eventually sighing and shrugging your shoulders, putting your hands up in surrender as you sit down on one of the benches in his workroom. “Okay, fine. If you can’t choose, you can’t choose.” 

“Exactly!” he says almost relieved, pointing the pencil he was using to make blueprints at you. But even so, he follows and takes a seat on the bench beside you and continues to go through that mental list of hairstyles he’s seen you wear as he leans his head back against the wall and eyes your strands of hair. 

There’s a pause between the two of you for a moment before he says, with all the seriousness in the world: “But you know…I especially like when you accessorize them.” 

You tilt your head to look at him and raise your brows. “Accessorize? With what?”

“With anything. Any way you wear your hair is gorgeous, but it’s somehow even better with something in it.” and as he says this, he brings the pencil he had been twirling between his fingertips up to your face, tucking it into the strands by your temple. You laugh when he pulls away, and he can't help but smile.  

Yup, any accessory.

SAI: anything with a braid.

-He is SO flustered when you ask.

-And even more embarrassed when you insist he gives you a straight answer after he meekly responds that he loves every single one of your looks.

-And it’s the truth!!!

-But you still want a singular, concise answer, so he thinks, nervous that this might be some sort of test he has to pass. 

-And like his brother, he truly can’t pick one specific look that he really likes. 

-But then he spots a pattern when he reflects on looks that he’s really liked and realizes they all shared a common feature: they all had some sort of braid in them.

-Doesn’t care about the style, length, thickness, whatever. Whether it’s one big one or two small ones framing your face or your entire head braided, he loves them. He loves the variety, and in general he just finds the design so beautiful. 

-He doesn’t admit it when he answers your question, but he finds himself even more in awe of your hair if the braids in one way or another are accessorized. A ribbon, a bandana, whatever, he thinks it adds to the look tenfold. But he thinks just the simple braids on their own look gorgeous.

“If this is another one of your tests--!”

“I promise it isn’t! Can you please just answer?” 

He stares at you expectantly, and a little bit nervously, as he tilts his head away from yours. 

“I mean…” he starts carefully, still not fully convinced by your words. “I like them all…”

You give him a look that tells him you aren’t convinced by his words, and he finds himself getting irritated again from the (completely unnecessary) pressure of the question. “It’s the truth!” 

“Yeah, but! Don’t you have one specifically?” 

“I don’t know…”

You huff, frustrated by his lack of response, and take a step away from him. He mentally sighs in relief over being free from the hounding. “Not even one?” You try for the final time. He pursues his lips and thinks on your question again.

He likes that one time you wore your hair up; he really liked that one. And then that other time you had a sort of half up half down. And those unique buns were also pretty nice...

And as he continues to reflect on instances where he found himself doing a double take over your hair, he realizes that all of them share one detail in particular. 

“Braids.”

“Hm?” 

“I like…when you wear braids.”

Not actually expecting a genuine answer, you can only stare and blink at him. His face grows warmer at the blank eye contact, pink rising up his face at your lack of a reaction. “What?!”

“Nothing! I just didn’t expect that.” 

But after your initial shock, you can't help but smile at how bashful he is over his answer, and he only grows even more exasperated (and embarrassed) when you now badger him about which specific braid styles he likes best.

TSUKASA: low styles, specifically hair down. 

-It’s simple, but it's the simplicity that’s so beautiful to him. 

-He likes to be able to touch your hair one way or another, whether by patting your head, twirling the strands or raking his fingers through the locks, and having it in an updo or some sort of elaborate hairstyle means he cannot do that. Doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like them of course! But if he were to have a favorite hairstyle, it’s a more casual one. 

-There isn’t all that much to it. He isn’t one to find a specific style uglier or superior, but he likes that this specific style is so versatile; it doesn’t necessarily have to be open either. Whether it’s in a low hairstyle like a bun or a ponytail, he just likes the lower styles better. 

“What hairstyle do you like best on me?”

It’s quiet in the classroom the two of you are sitting in, most of the students simply lounging and drifting around as they wait for their next class to begin. You and Tsukasa respectively lean your arm against your heads to bring them closer together, faces only inches apart as you talk lowly among each other. A little break to catch up after spending the busy school day mostly apart. 

He watches you as a finger circles around a stray strand of your hair, brows ever so slightly creasing together. “Hairstyle?”

“Yeah, like…do you prefer my hair in buns? In waves? Think I’d look good with an undercut?” 

He glances at the hair curled over his finger and framing your face, thinking to himself for a moment as he mulls over the question in his head. “I like your hair right now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like it down.” he mutters with a small smile, twisting the soft strands between the pads of his fingers, reveling in the sensation and watching the curl it creates bounce.

“You don’t like waves, or a cut of some kind or…?”

“I do. But you said to pick one, right?”

And with all the love and attention he’s showing your hair as he delicately cards his fingers through the strands, you can’t help but smile and hum in validation, satisfied enough with his answer. Enjoying the relaxing sensation of your hair being played with, you rest your head down on the desk, and he smiles at your content expression.

[erinwantstowrite]

Let me just quickly say, cross-overs can sometimes get REALLY difficult to map out and write in a cohesive way but you have absolutely NAILED IT!! I absolutely ADORE LoF!!! I usually don’t even bother reading fics with the ‘Richard Grayson is Richard Parker’ premise cause I felt like they were super confusing and overcomplicated but this fic?? SUPERB. ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE. OH MY GOD I ADORE IT. Everyone’s characterizations are so nice and wonderful aaaaaaah!!!! <33333

Ok ok I did actually have a question as well: would you be willing to share what your writing process looks like in terms of a chapter you’ve already posted? I was just wondering since I’m also currently working on my own fic (it’s been a few years but I managed to get fixated on an idea and it grew legs lol) and I’m currently fighting the organization of it haha.

How do you keep track of the plot points and/or foreshadowing you want to get a ‘lightbulb!’ moment for later? Do you have any tips?

Thank you so much! I absolutely adore your writing AND your art is so gorgeous omg it adds so much to the incredible story :DDD I hope you have a good day!!

I have a secret: I actually didn't like "Richard Grayson is Richard Parker' tag for a while for the same reason. Sometimes they felt like they missed the mark or it's just. A thing that's there? I almost didn't include it for LoF, but I'm glad I did because it changed the direction in such a big way.

Another secret: this made me incredibly happy because I have read so many wikis and scoured the internet to make sure that I had enough info on both fandoms so LoF could make sense to anyone who's reading it, whether they know Spider-Man, Batfam, or neither at all. Sometimes I worry a lot before I post that I'll miss a mark and will confuse people.

As for the question: I definitely am willing to share what my writing process looks like!

Be prepared for under the cut, I love to yap. It's in my blood to yap. And that's why it took a minute to get to this ask haha

(Spoilers for Leap of Faith!! Everything mentioned has already been published ((Chapters 1-11))

I had to go and find out which chapter I wanted to use as an example and I think we're gonna go with Chapter 5 for the most part :)

My writing process is, as described by alighterwood:

I think the description fits because while I'm all over the place, I have to be very detail oriented and I store everything in one spot.

Starting with the overall process, what I find is most helpful for me, when organizing, is having a notebook rather than doing it all digitally. I've been using a 70 sheet notebook that I had lying around waiting to be used, and as of yesterday, I officially filled the entire thing front to back. It's been an incredible help, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because it's a lot easier to remember something I physically wrote down than it is to remember something I typed. I'm now on to my second notebook for LoF, and I might even have to get a third.

In another ask, startupkat asked me this:

And I shared a little about my outline process there, but I'll try to go into a little more depth here. Emphasis on little because this is so long.

I write a truly insane amount of outlines in this notebook.

This is just what I can show you, but a good chunk of the notebook is just outlines. Over and over and over again. That's because they're always changing/adapting based on so many different factors. Sometimes I get to a chapter I thought I had fully planned out and then realize it just doesn't work anymore. Other times, I get to the chapter and realize I don't want to write that anymore/isn't as interesting as I thought it would be. A few times I got halfway through a POV of a scene I was struggling on and decided to switch POV's, which will change up the outline for a chapter every now and then.

Which is why I don't write incredibly detailed outlines and try to keep it vague until I actually get to that chapter. It's a lot less daunting to rewrite a chapter outline than it is to rewrite the entire outline.

Fic outlines and Chapter outlines look a lot alike.

This is what I said in the other ask, but I didn't elaborate on it all the way.

I make a list just like that, and then I try to put it in chronological order/in an order that makes sense. I keep the Fic outline vague by writing down "Goals" for a chapter rather than scenes. But I also keep notes to myself if I really think something is important. The more important I think a scene needs to be, the more details I write down to make sure my future self recalls what I had in mind when I thought it up.

Really simple example:

Chap 1 Goal: Peter gets to Gotham and meets Babs while running around. Meet Nightwing too? Get shelter.

Chapter 2 Goal: Bats are like "???" about Peter. Batfam dynamic important... Peter stalking Batfam back? Peter meet Batman >:)

When I get to a chapter, that's when I make a far more detailed list of wants/needs/goals. It's the Step 2 from the Step 1. Here are some examples from Chapter 5:

Needed to have:

More POV's from universe 1299 (Peter's home universe)

Tony's POV more specifically, how he's doing/feeling, what he's figured out

What they've figured out on 1299 side vs what's going on in 1300 (Gotham)

Explaining more about Peter's trauma/his past

Dick learning more about Peter, and vise versa

Wanted to have:

Ned being a more central character

Natasha :)

Loki being a little shit

Tony and Cap bickering

Peter talking to Nightwing again

The last name Grayson

Gymnastics!!

(This is the shortened list, because the chapters are so long)

When I looked at this list before writing my outline, I had to figure out how I could incorporate everything. If I needed more 1299 POV's, and I wanted Ned, Natasha, and Loki, there's one scene accounted for. I had to get their side of things and wanted that trio together. I needed a Tony POV, and I wanted Tony and Cap bickering, so those went together, plus I got 1299's POV of Ohnn and his plans explained.

I needed to have Peter explaining more about his trauma, and Dick and Peter to talk/get closer. I wanted a Nightwing POV, to have Peter say his last name, and them doing gymnastics. I knew Peter wouldn't willingly talk about that, so I had him have a nightmare. Not only did it give readers perspective but it made Peter more susceptible to talking to Nightwing because he was more emotionally vulnerable/lonely, and that's how that scene came together.

That's when I would write down the chronological order of these events by writing out "Scene Blocks." (This is what I wrote down but my handwriting was so bad I can't subject y'all to it):

scene 1- Ned talking to Loki. Natasha should be nearby and observing Loki's behavior. They are not on friendly terms. Ned is more worried about Peter than he is as to what Loki could be up to, so Natasha takes on that role.

scene 2- Tony is freaking out about Peter being in an alt dimension. He should attack Ohnn when he's not prepared for it. Beat his ass? Beat his ass. Cap there too.

scene 3- Peter's nightmare. "Ben, where do you go when you die?" "Where do you think?" "With you. Where you went."

scene 4- Nightwing and Peter.

Of course, things come to attention when writing. Like originally, Tony and Cap were arguing in the Tower. But it was a little too much like his and Natasha's argument, and I kept in mind that Tony is smart. Sometimes I forget that the characters are smarter than I am, so I have to account for what they would figure out. So Tony would have picked up the puzzle pieces and come to more conclusions than I originally thought about, and I figured he'd be way more proactive about it than just. Being in the Tower and waiting.

Which means that that scene ended up being as listed above: having a squabble with Cap, learning more about Peter's dynamic with the Avengers in this universe, and seeing how Tony is reacting to it by throwing himself head first into trying to capture Ohnn.

I'll realize I need something else to be mentioned or put in and I'll have to shimmy things around, but that's basically how it goes.

As for other forms of organization:

Keeping a timeline is so important because it tells you a lot about the environment your characters are in. It's also important to remember what a character has on them, what money they've spent, who they've met/who you have mentioned, every alias that is being used, to read your work and write down edits you want to make before you make them, to write down ideas beforehand of situations you can use, and, most importantly: MAKE A MAP!! This has saved me so many times. Sometimes your brain WILL trick you or make it harder on you to envision a scene. Make a map of where your characters are physically!! It will save you too!!

As for foreshadowing and plot points, I'll let you in on yet another secret:

Your subconscious is doing a lot more than you think it is.

Sometimes when I foreshadow something, I didn't even know I was until I got to it. I very often go back to read chapters that came before this to see what I've mentioned and what I haven't, and when I do, I'll see something and go "I have to bring this back" or "I almost forgot about that!"

Other times, I am very aware of what I'm foreshadowing, and that's because I follow a mystery plot formula. You have to keep in mind everyone's intentions, all the time. How are they feeling? What are their motivations? And: what are they doing right now, while this character is doing this?

Like Beck and Ohnn. From the very beginning, I knew I had to make sure that it was obvious Ohnn wasn't working alone. From there, I had to weave through the story and slowly build him up as someone who's working behind the scenes. Even from Ned's first POV, I made sure to mention that this person knows Tony and is tech savvy.

My biggest tip is to make sure you reread your work or at least skip through it, because sometimes you don't even know that you placed something there.

And sometimes, it's very purposeful. :)

I hope this helped! I really tried to keep it short but I am insane and the process is sooooo long. It sounds complicated but it really is simple when you're actually doing it I swear

[the-boy-meets-evil]

all i want for christmas - xmh (the8)

(where you want minghao for secret santa so you can prove he's not really that hard to buy something for.)

pairing: minghao (the8) x gn!reader genre: friends to lovers | fluff rating: sfw (but i still don't want minors interacting) word count: ~1.8k warnings: none, really. this is just fluff and a secret santa exchange. no pronouns used for reader.

a/n: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays. day 14 - secret santa 💕 i'm also counting this as a drabble.

“Are you sure you want to trade for him?” Mingyu asks, eyeing you suspiciously.

“For the last time, yes,” you huff out. 

Are you actually sure? No. But, this plan has to work. Every year you and your whole friend group draw names for Secret Santa. This year, you were really hoping to get Minghao. For a lot of reasons you’re not trying to share with Mingyu. Thankfully, he’s terrible at keeping secrets from you and had instantly whined about getting the hardest friend. He’s relieved you want to trade, even if he’s also a little suspicious. Not suspicious enough to hold onto the most difficult person to buy for, though. 

“Your funeral,” he says with a shrug. “Who’d you have again?” 

“Seulgi,” you remind him.

“Oh that’s so easy. She leaves notes about what she wants everywhere,” he says, satisfaction plain on his face. 

“So does Minghao, if you know where to look,” you add, keeping it a little vague.

“If you so say,” he says.

Mingyu’s not suspicious enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. Literally. Minghao is famous in your friend group for being difficult to buy presents for. Famous for not even pretending to like a present. You wonder how many presents he’s taken back in exchange for something that he wants more. Which does make the whole thing a little more daunting, especially because you’re not supposed to spend over a certain amount. That’s the whole premise of doing a Secret Santa with your friends. It’s so that you don’t have to go broke buying presents because you have a lot of friends. Of course, you’re all older now than when you started as broke university students. Still, it’s nice to hold onto the tradition. 

Now that you’ve switched, you’re nervous. Everything in your plan got you to the point of switching (and kind of how to pull off the perfect gift within your budget). You haven’t considered what he’ll say or what you’re going to say to him. Or if you’re even going to admit what you went through to make sure you had him in the exchange. You know you should just rip the band-aid off. Easier said than done, though.

The reality is that you want to be the one to give Minghao a present for a lot of reasons. You want to be able to get him something he’ll actually like. To show him that you listen to him and you know him. To show him that he’s not actually that bad to buy for, because you can tell it gets to him sometimes. That he thinks he’s just difficult, which he definitely is, but there’s more to him than that. There’s also the biggest reason you wanted to pull his name. That you have a giant crush on him. One you’re shocked he hasn’t picked up on and just as shocked other friends haven’t seemed to pick up on, either. Well, except for Seulgi. Then again, she never misses a beat. It’s useful that she knows, too, since you’re planning to ask her for help in securing the perfect gift. 

(Seulgi comes through, like the actual best friend in the world, with a killer discount on a beautiful designer scarf. Minghao hasn’t eyed that exact one, but you think you know him well enough to know that it’s still something he’ll like. It fits seamlessly into his style and it’s the kind of thing you can easily see him buying for himself. True to her word and the plan, Seulgi set aside several pieces that were returned because the brand had really weird rules about reselling things that left the store. They take returns because of the goodwill with customers, but never resell the items even close to full price.) 

When it comes time to actually exchange gifts, you’re a little nervous again. Didn’t think it through that you do this as a group, so everyone will see what everyone else got. Including the care put into your present for Minghao and the obvious, at least to you, significance. As if sensing your nerves, Seulgi shoots you a warm smile, then directs you to take a couple breaths. 

“I get to open my present first, right?” Soonyoung calls out. He’s already looking through the presents on the table. 

“You go first every year,” Seungcheol points out. 

“Right, so it’s tradition,” Soonyoung agrees. 

“Or maybe someone else could go…” Seungcheol starts. 

“Got it!” Soonyoung calls. 

“Just let him have it,” Seulgi laughs out.

As it turns out, she had him and got him a silly tiger plush and also a ticket to go to a drive through safari experience where they had tigers. Unsurprisingly, it’s a strong start and Soonyoung is thrilled. Seulgi opens her present next and it carries on just as well. It seems that everyone likes their presents, at least so far. Though, someone makes a joke that Minghao hasn’t gotten his yet. You’re still deep in thought and worry when you finally realize that your friends are trying to get your attention. It seems like it’s your turn to go next. Still somewhat lost in thought, you find your present. It’s easier because there aren’t many left and one of them is the one you bought. 

The second you open your present, it’s all you can think about. It’s a beautifully decorated scrapbook, so carefully put together that it almost makes you want to tear up. You start flipping through the pages and it’s like walking through all your favorite memories with your closest friends. The road trips and the sporting events. Concerts and beach days. Bonfires and drunken parties. A complete catalog of your best memories, without you even having to tell whoever made it. Each page is uniquely decorated without it being overdone. As you’re flipping through each page, you notice that there’s one person in more pictures than anyone else. Minghao. Is it that obvious to whoever made this that you have feelings for him? 

“I hope you like it,” Minghao says and he actually sounds nervous.

You look up at him, surprised. “You did this?” 

“Yeah, I realized after I wrapped it that I forgot to include a card,” he admits. 

“This is honestly the best gift I’ve ever gotten, thank you,” you say sincerely.

Seungcheol breaks the moment with a laugh. “Looks like you’re up next, Hao.”

“Right, yeah,” Minghao says. He clears his throat as he stands up. 

It’s a little hard for you to figure out where to look. You’re so enamored with the present you got from Minghao that you want to keep looking through it and appreciating the little details he put in. You find yourself aimlessly running your fingers over the pages. But, you also want to know what he thinks of your present. The real reaction as he opens it. Which does win out as he sits back down with his present on his lap. He’s careful as he unwraps it, almost like he’s preparing for whatever is inside. Over the years, he’s definitely been a little better about reacting to presents. Maybe he’s worried this will be another present like that. You know watching his reaction was absolutely the right choice when his eyes go wide and his mouth opens a little in shock. His fingers run over the fabric carefully before he reaches for the card. The smile when he reads the card is so genuine that your heart melts into a puddle. Maybe it’s more than a crush.

“I don’t know how you did this and stayed under budget, but thank you,” Minghao says with more emotion than you’re expecting. 

“Hey, yeah, that’s a foul! You can’t go over our budget just to get him something he wants,” Mingyu argues. 

“It wasn’t over budget, I sold the scarf. I have the receipt still,” Seulgi says.

“That’s even worse!” Mingyu argues with a pout.

“You’re just mad that someone finally got Minghao the perfect present,” Seungcheol teases. 

“I hate it here,” Mingyu says.

The conversation turns back to the remaining presents. Nobody really seems to have another comment on the moment that passed between you and Minghao over the presents. Neither of you has ever gotten the other for Secret Santa like this and it’s gone much differently than you expected. Instead of feeling nervous, you’re feeling a little hopeful. At least if your present is anything to go off. Minghao’s never put this much effort into a present. Not that you can remember, at least. Maybe, you’re not trying to get ahead of yourself, but maybe he feels a little something more for you as well. 

You’re a pretty disengaged from the conversation, especially once everyone finishes opening their presents and things turn to what movie to watch. Instead, you head into the kitchen to get someone to drink, missing the way Minghao’s eyes follow your movement. A little surprised when he appears in the kitchen with you.

“Thank you again,” he says quietly. It still makes you jump a bit. 

“Oh!” you gasp. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad you liked it. I know it’s kind of simple.”

“No, it’s perfect,” Minghao disagrees. “How did you manage?” 

“I told Seulgi that I had you and roughly what I wanted, so she set aside some returns. Only ones that came back immediately and clearly hadn’t been worn,” you rush out. 

Minghao’s touch on your arm is gentle, instantly calming. “I’m so thankful you got me.” 

“Me too,” you agree. “Well, I didn’t, actually. I traded with Mingyu.” 

“You did?” Minghao asks, seeming surprised but also pleased.

“Yeah, I wanted to get you something,” you say.

“I did, too,” he answers softly. “But, I was lucky enough to just draw your name.”

“Your present was amazing. I meant it, it’s one of the best I’ve ever gotten,” you whisper.

“It’s what you deserve. I know I didn’t spend much,” Minghao starts. 

“No, it’s everything. I can’t imagine how much time you must’ve put into this. I’m not sure anyone��s ever done anything so thoughtful for me,” you assure him, eyes soft on his. 

“You deserve only thoughtful things,” he tells you. 

“You, too,” is all you can say.

“Do you think, well, would it be weird if we got dinner sometime?” he asks and you can’t hide the shock. 

“Let’s go, you two!” Seungcheol calls.

“Like a date?” you ask, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“Forget it, it’s weird,” he backtracks. When he starts to leave, you grab his arm.

“Yeah, I’d love to, but only if it’s actually a date,” you tell him. If you thought the smile over his present was big, this is infinitely bigger. 

“How about right now?” he presses.

“I don’t have anywhere else to be,” you agree. 

“Then, let’s go,” he says, hand held out for you.

And you take it. It’s one of the easiest decisions you’ve ever made. You didn’t even have to tell him that you’d been thinking of asking him the same thing. The holidays truly can be so magical.

i hope you liked it! please let me know your thoughts or give it a reblog if you enjoyed it 💕

[mixelation]

The thing is I'm not even a stickler for magic systems "making sense", I am pretty willing to roll with whatever. You say "hey in this universe people can fly" I am not going to be doing the math on how that works(unless its for fun maybe). You tell me that almost everyone has a superpower and sometimes people just walk around with engines poking out of their legs, I can roll with that too. As a reader I am pretty willing to accept a given premise and suspend my disbelief. So the fact that I read JJK with my head tilted to the side in puzzlement was really unexpected for me lmao.

well, i mean, the point i was trying to make is that fictional worlds need to be internally consistent for readers to follow along, and also readers WILL pick up on glaring gaps in the world's internal logic. you don't need to have it "make sense" the way many reddit fans want things to make sense (ie, having in-depth explanations based in real world facts and logic).

if flight exists in your universe as a common power most people have, but some characters seem to just never fly even when it would be more convenient, readers will wonder why that is. and you don't need to be coming up explanations for HOW people can fly, or explaining complex genetic inheritance patterns to explain why some people just can't do it. you don't even need to pause your whole plot to give someone a classroom lesson on it. you just need SOMETHING. it can be "yeah a lot of people just don't get their flying license, like with cars, and we see this because someone complains about how their parents won't let them take the test" or "either you're from a flying family or you're not" or maybe "yeah it gets taught in school, but a lot of people just never get good at it. look your favorite character has just listed it along with math and spelling as things they failed in school but don't need kick your ass"

jedi mind tricks in star wars are presented like this, for example. the movies never spell out hard rules for how the force in general works, but we see on screen what it can accomplish and what it can't, and we can intuit the vague framework of "rules" from this, although it's inherent a soft magic system so the rules are wishy-washy. for mind tricks in particular, we see how they work very early on in a new hope, and it's stated it only works on "weak minds." Then in both return of the jedi and a phantom menace, where a problem could be easily solved with a mind trick, we see it attempted and then fail due to minds being "too strong." does anyone ever explain to us strong versus weak mindedness? no, not really! but also the concept of strong/weak wills exist in our world, and we as viewers can clearly see the difference in agency displayed by storm troopers and characters like jabba and watto.

my issue with JJK is that a lot of panel space is dedicated to longwinded explanations but they often don't answer basic logistical questions, or are just a string of words that don't make a ton of sense even with my brain in "yeah, there's curse-ghost-things, sure" mode. then fight choreo (in the manga at least) is then also poor, so it's difficult to then intuit what's happening by simply reading how events play out. sort of like if every three chapters there was a break in the cool fight to explain how flight works, except the character explaining keeps talking about positive and negative air space and special parts of your brain for sensing the negativity of air itself, but never what any of those words mean and also we still don't know if certain characters can fly or not. or like if suddenly people in star wars were like "oh yeah, the strength of your will is related directly to midi-chlorian count" and then nothing there is unpacked or demonstrated on screen in any meaningful way whatsoever.

[owlespresso]

lavender haze. vere. tags: fem!reader, alcohol, vere being himself, not 18+

The Haze is a domed Eden, straddled comfortably on the border between Hightown and the Amaryllis District, coddled between stained glass lanterns and columns of stark ivory, sat in the midst of a sprawling patch of multi-tiered gardens. Lavender curtains of wisteria layer this verdant paradise into its different sections. The stone gardens and artfully arranged hedge sculptures and various water features each a sight to be seen on their own.

You enter from the east. To your left, a triangular cut of land rises between two merging brooks. Perched upon that jutting ledge is a gazebo surrounded by pale roses and fresh foxglove, vines strewn along strips of lattice fence, affixed to the gazebo’s bottom half. As picturesque a place to meet as any, but Vere has commanded your company indoors.

Up ahead looms the Haze, a series of seven, octagonal towers of varying heights. Each one is domed, stonework lovingly etched and painted, shaped into candy-colored spirals. Hooded windows of stained glass prod out in even rows. Buttresses and arches link the towers, alongside skywalks which hover stories above ground height. It’s a mess of a building, a decadent spectacle which intrigues and befuddles the eye. Bricks and ceramics layer the towers in different patterns, a stain of vibrant color against Eridia’s greys and whites. It’s still smaller than the Senobium, built so that it remains comfortably tucked into the spire’s grand shadow most of the day. On purpose, you would assume. 

A group of guards, clad in tight black and red uniforms roam the premises, prowling along the various plazas in duos and trios. Two of them eye you as you approach, as discerning as the towering doors they stand watch over.

“Hold it,” the one to the left snaps as you ascend the final step. Your brow wrinkles. They don’t turn away patrons, Vere had told you. That’s the receptionist’s job. “You stink of the road. And you don’t look like you can afford the flat fee. Scram.”

Your face rumples into a sour frown.

“I was invited.” you inform them flatly. And you most certainly do not smell—not after an hour with Leander’s fancy soaps. “And the man who invited me doesn’t like to wait.” 

That seems to give them pause. The Haze’s clients are all come from places of great wealth and power—from some of the Senobium’s finest sages to the old nobility of Eiridia’s founding clans. Holding up any one of their guests could hold dire consequences for those responsible. 

“If I’m late, I’m going to have to tell him why. And I would hate for anything to happen to two find guards just trying to do their jobs.” you press, resting your hands on your hips, cocking your head to the side. Your lips remain twisted into an impatient frown, boot tapping staccato against the white marble. The difficult guard’s face contorts with righteous offense, cheeks flushing pink. The leather of his glove squeaks as his fist tightens ‘round the staff of his steel polearm.

“As if any of our clients would want the company of some filthy little street urchin,” he snaps, voice rolling down the ivory steps and into the gardens below. 

“Keep your voice down, goddamn you!” the other guard hisses quietly, brown eyes blown wide. “Or Vernal’ll have both our heads—”

At his coworker’s prompting, the ornery guard seems to settle down temper kept at bay by the threat of this “Vernal’s” wrath. Regardless, he still looks at you with obvious contempt, clearly unmoved by your vague threats.

“We aren’t letting you in,” he repeats. “I don’t care who you say invited you—not unless you have an actual, physical invitation or the madam’s personal seal on your person. Now, scram. Before we have to—”

“What seems to be the problem, here?” a familiar voice drawls from behind the guards. The doors haven’t been opened. Vere seems to slide from the shadow cast over the building’s entrance, heels clicking against the pale marble. His head tilts as he drags his prying gaze over the scene, lingering on you for a mere moment before turning to the guard so insistent on denying you entry. Both of the sentries have whirled to face him, both suddenly wrought with tension. Their spines have gone ramrod stiff, shoulders squared as he prowls forward.

“Just another tourist, sir,” the guard says, barely keeping the shake out of his voice. “And she was just about to leave—”

“Really? That’s a shame, considering I invited her here,” Vere says, flat and frankly unamused. The color drains from the guard’s face, and any satisfaction you could feel in the moment is cooled by the frigid, heavy feeling that settles over the vicinity. The lingering humidity so typical to Eridia’s climate has been sucked from the air, the cold hanging heavy like morning fog. “I hoped the madam’s esteemed employees wouldn’t be dimwitted enough to lie to me. I’ll have to have a chat with her about the gutter trash she decides to hire.” he croons, oozing condescension and disappointment. 

“My apologies, sir,” the man bows his head. You can practically hear the restrained outrage in his voice. It won’t be enough to satisfy Vere, you know immediately. He should be groveling on his hands and knees for forgiveness if he hopes to keep his life. 

“How dare you even speak to me,” Vere begins coldly, cutting him off without hesitation, “After harassing my esteemed guest. You were hoping to shake her down for some extra coin, weren’t you? I’ve heard rumors about the guards here, but I didn’t think you would actually be this stupid. Consider yourself fired—” Vere snaps, fangs bared and eyes alight with visible animosity. The otherworldly pink glints, catching the sun’s last rays. Behind you, you’re sure the gardens look resplendent, dyed in that warm, golden light. 

The guard looks up at that, eyes wide and wild, unsuppressed panic written across his pale visage. “B-but sir, I had no way of knowing—”

A clawed hand shoots out, fingers fixed in a crushing grip around the man’s windpipe. Nothing about Vere’s lithe build belies the unearthly strength he levies, a forceful reminder of what he so unabashedly is—of what you’ll attempt to unleash over the following weeks or months.

The guard squirms and chokes. His hands fly to Vere’s wrist, legs feebly kicking. His struggles are rewarded by an even more crushing grip. As his bones creak and his trachea crumples, you can't help the morbid curiosity that you observe with—the strange sense of awe that comes with Vere attacking your antagonizer with such little hesitation—

The remaining guard stays frozen in place, helpless but to watch in silence as his coworker’s air is stripped from his lungs.

—Surely, Vere isn’t doing this for your sake, for some feeble, twisted notion of chivalry. He’s probably just annoyed at being spoken back to, by someone he views as so incredibly beneath him. Yet still—

Vere inspects his free hand, looking over his perfect manicure with placid interest. A faint wrinkle to his brow is all that potentially belies his agitation. The guard is getting purple in the face.

—And where do you fall, on the totem pole? Will he do the same to you if you get into a disagreement? Based on the interactions you’ve had thus far, you don’t think so. You hope not. You are in possession of something he desperately wants. And you like to think you’re clever enough to avoid the beast’s bite. You have to be. To fail is to sup on nightshade and the noxious shadows which compose him, to impale yourself on the razor ivory and sable of his maw.

A resounding splash sounds from behind you. Something’s been tossed into one of the streams close to the very base of the stairs. When you look at Vere, the stubborn guard is no longer there. There’s a small, red splatter on Vere’s cheek. His long, pink tongue slithers out from between plush, painted lips to lick it up. The remaining guard stands still as stone at his post, unreadable gaze fixed straight ahead.

“I would have just brought you with me had I known the employees were so eager to shake down unsuspecting customers.” Vere says with a put-out sigh, before turning to the remaining guard.

“Tell me,” Vere leers into the poor man’s personal space, sharp teeth flashing. “How many times has he tried that on other people? How many times have you just stood there and watched?” His voice dipped from sanguine sweet into a low, gravely snarl—a noise no mortal would be able to make. The guard, much to his credit, does not stammer or wither away or begin to beg for his life. 

“This is the first time we’ve been posted together—” he begins, but Vere steps away with another, dismissive scoff.

“Booooring,” he says. He glances at you, motioning you forward. “Stop gawping and come on. We’ve already wasted enough time.”

Not eager to test his already dwindled patience, you hastily bounce up the steps. Perhaps, if you were younger and braver and stupider, you would have been embarrassed at how readily you scrambled after him. 

“Sorry for the trouble,” you apologize, because he’s still in a shitty mood and your blood is not hot enough to make you forget the ease with which he can dispatch a man. 

“And what, my little morsel, are you apologizing for?” Vere’s eyes crinkle with teasing mirth, the tip of a fang prodding his lower lip. How many have stared down that maw just before being swallowed whole? Countless, surely. “You don’t have to grovel—but feel free to. It’s almost cute.” All wrath and rancor is left forgotten as he turns on his heel. The sheer fabric of his sleeves sways with the motion, glistening underneath the sun’s dying rays. Like a hound commanded, you are at his heels, head lowered. You can’t even look at the remaining guard, but Vere has no such trouble.

“Keep up the good work,” he says, a sneer in his voice. Will the man have to haul his coworker from the water with his own two hands? Or do they have people for that?

“Are you going to get in trouble?” you inquire, stepping through the threshold.

“Me? Get in trouble? Perish the thought,” “No one’s going to miss a single guard—not even the madame. Especially not one that acts like that. All of his coworkers probably hated him, anyway. We did them a favor.” he rattles on. He leads you past the entry point, to the second floor. You spare a glance down the rounded corridor. An overpowering flowery scent blows in your direction, making your nose crinkle. Translucent, pearly curtains, more like veils, flutter from rounded doorways. There are sounds, too, giggles and breathy moans, which makes your ears burn hot, despite already knowing this venue’s many, many purposes.

“Hurry up,” Vere scolds over his shoulder, and you don’t need to be told twice, hastening your strides. “Like I was saying—no one cares if a random guard or two goes missing. That’s why they all wear the same thing.”

“The sages who come here to get their dicks wet are the only reason this place hasn’t been demolished yet. They could commit murder in broad daylight and management wouldn’t say a word.” He rattles on, deeply sardonic. The kind of bitterness that could only come from someone with long-lived experience. There’s a graveyard’s worth of skeletons in the Senobium’s closet. You wonder how many he is responsible for.

“A murder in broad daylight.” you repeat dryly. 

“Broad daylight. Not sunset,” Vere points out helpfully. “The Senobium can do whatever they want, wherever they want, to whoever they want. This place isn’t any different from the rest of the city, even if the window dressing is nice. And as an esteemed asset to the Senobium, their authority naturally extends to me… And even if it didn’t, what could they possibly do?”

The conversation moves. Vere leads you up flight after flight of stairs, until you stop bothering to keep track. You’ve already leaped into the lion’s mouth. There’s no point in counting your steps or turns. Did he have to climb down all this way just to meet you at the doors? Suddenly, you find his ire more comprehensible. Your legs feel leaden by the time he leads you from the stairs, through an arched doorway. A current of air, thick with magic, ripples over you as you pass. A warding spell, you realize a moment later. Only select people can enter this chamber.

The chamber itself is massive, a circular room with a glass skylight, the soft shine of the stars flooding the room. The moon’s pale face peers down through the glass, shining off the marble floors. A circular bed sits on a platform up against the wall. The rest of the furniture is just as fine, all carved wood and black velvet. A bottle of… something sits atop an elm table at the room's center. It’s rounded with a suspiciously tall neck. Vere snatches it up, pours it into two crystalline glasses which sit next to said bottle. It’s a pearlescent, amethyst fluid. Curls of white and silver churn amongst the pale purple, the liquid covered in a glittery sheen. 

“Here,” he holds out a glass. The fraction of a second you spend hesitating makes him roll his eyes and scoff. “What reason would I have to poison my new and incredibly useful little friend? Don’t be stupid.”

You take the glass begrudgingly, because you’ve seen what his displeasure looks like. The body crumpled in the fountain sticks at the forefront of your memory. It could have been you. It still could be. He knocks back the whole glass, swallowing its glittery contents in one, smooth go. You watch the rhythmic bob of his throat, the elegant line of his neck pulsing with each swallow. 

“Happy now?” he drawls, frosted with forced sugar, like he’s talking a child into taking their medicine. The condescension is grating, but you fend the feeling off. You’ll earn more flies with honey than with vinegar.

Yet, you have to wonder, how would he eat you if he grew bored, or decided this arrangement isn’t worth the trouble? Would he swallow you whole, or sever you into smaller cuts, morsels to dip in honey and savor over time? What are you in your most consumable form?

You tilt your head back and drink deep of the draught. Thicker than water, not as viscous as you feared, or cloying like syrup. Sweet in a way that somehow makes your eyes water. It coats and clings to your tongue. You blink the tears out of your eyes. Vere laughs. You’re glad he finds it funny.

“Delicious,” you deadpan, licking furiously at the roof of your mouth in hopes of scrubbing the taste. You’re quietly glad for something else to focus on, because you feel hopelessly out of place amongst the soft silks

When you turn to look at him, he’s lounged atop the elevated mattress, sheer silk parting to give you an unobstructed view of his stomach and chest—all lithe muscle framed by the silvery chains which drape from his collar. You take care not to let your gaze wander, no matter how tempting. The long lines of his legs are just in your periphery, one bent and folded atop a thick, bunched thigh. His chin is propped in the palm of his hand, roguish smirk curled onto fittingly fox-like features. He’s looking at you, eyes two pinpricks of luminescent pink. Unnatural in their vividity, their glow.

You look down at your feet, at the floor, at the table. Anywhere but into those prying eyes. “What?” 

“You look so lost, poor thing.” Vere coos. “Come,” you take a single step towards him. “Oh! But be a dear and bring another glass with you.

And so you do. Unfaltering and unquestioning. Hopefully, if you’re compliant enough, you can finally get some answers to your burning queries. It all ends with you flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling. He’s still on his side, only a few centimeters away. It doesn’t bother you as much as you thought it would.

“Why did you call me here?” you stare up at the myriad stars, an endless trail of them emblazoned across the dark, dark sky. If there ever was proof of a god, it’s hanging right above your heads.

“Do you really have to ask? I went through the trouble of inviting you and getting you inside just so we could be alone,” he purrs, an insinuation in his voice. One of his hands splays over your hip, fingers curling possessively into the thick fabric of your trousers. You squint at him, flat and unimpressed, ignoring the gnawing unease which eats at you. It’s been a constant, enduring feeling, crushing at the sides of your wearied brain since you entered this city. Yet, Vere brings it front and center, alongside a heady heat you don’t care to examine too closely. You school your expression into one of near perfect neutrality, ignoring the weight of his hand until he breaks, rolling his eyes as he rolls onto his back. Long waves of russet fan around his head like a lion’s mane, feathery tips of several strands teasing your upper arm.

“Because I wanted to get you drunk and pick your brain.” Vere replies, almost boredly. 

“Hm. If you have questions, you can just ask.”

“You play your cards close too close to your chest for me to just up and ask you.” he says dryly. “Remember your first night here? You cowered when I so much as looked you in the eyes. Thought you were going to piss yourself.”

You frown. “Not true. Keep in mind that you stole from, grabbed and threatened me only hours before.”

“Didn’t stop you from following me into a dark alley after,” Vere chimes, the corners of his smile a little tight, a little too smug for your liking.

“Because you were the only honest person in the room. I knew you wouldn’t give me any bullshit.” you reasoned.

“And is that all it takes? You’re a cheap date, darling,” Vere purrs. You open our mouth to once again protest, but he continues. “You have a shitty sense of self-preservation, which means I’ll have to keep a close eye on you. Be good and listen to everything I say from now on, if you want to stay out of trouble.”

The encroaching haze blankets the edge of your good sense and sharp wit, yet another reason as to why you seldom imbibe. Even so, you only had one drink. Whatever he bullied you into drinking was no joke.

“Did you invite me here just to bully me?” you mumbled, on the edge of a complaint. Your foundations are fracturing. You observe the destruction of your carefully crafted countenance as though you are a distant spectator. Your oak spillars splinter, cracks spider-webbing up your brick walls. You’re left to flounder about in the debris, but it’s not as alarming as you assumed it would be. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but you can’t bring yourself to reach that fever pitch of fear.

“Oh,. please. I haven’t even started bullying you yet,” Vere clicks his tongue, chiding.

“Well. You’ve already tried to shake me down with my own roomkey. That’s kind of like… stealing my lunch money… I should have tattled to Leander.”

“Ew, no. That slime doesn’t deserve any more excuses to talk to me,” Vere reaches over to his nightstand and gulps down another dose of amethyst bliss, arching his back and raising his arms above his head in one, serpentine stretch. “We have to move you out of that shithole as soon as possible. I don’t trust that freak.”

“Me neither,” you muse, realizing it aloud, in that very moment. “Who gives out free food and board to someone they just met like that? He said I didn’t owe him anything, but—”

“He could take that back at any time. And what could you do about it?” Vere finishes for you, looking at you with an unreadable expression, pink eyes calm and flat. “Tell him ‘no’? On his turf? Full of his drooling goons? They practically run that part of the city. He could find you no matter where you hide or who you pretend to be.” Vere murmurs. You tilt your head to look at him. You glance down at his lips and swallow. That gets him to smile, smug and mischievous. No more of that monotone dread, that sense of being evaluated, the feeling of being sized up like a meal.

“Why are you helping me?” Vere asks after a long moment of silence. You blink at him. “I was surprised when you decided to take me up on my offer.”

“You said you can get rid of my curse,” you regard him carefully, ruminating over each word. Or maybe it’s the substance. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, thoughts slow and sticky like summer haze.

“Bullshit. You wanted nothing to do with me even after I made that offer, and I have no doubt that slobbering beast Leander made you a similar one. Did he promise?” Vere’s voice dips into something sugary sweet and mocking, a mean edge to his smile now. “Did he hold your hand, look right into your eyes when he said it? Was he on his knees? That’s one of his favorite places to be. Really, it’s the only place he’s of any use.” Vere pries and rattles on. The small space between you feels cold, all of the sudden. Still, you are not sobered. “Why not cozy up to him? Or that fucking doctor, because I just know he offered.” His tail comes to lay over your thigh. You look at it through hardly open eyes.

Something seizes the underside of your jaw. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s Vere’s hand. His nails bite into your cheek as he forces your attention upwards, into the dark maw of his gaze. Your hands, which have flown to his wrist on sheer instinct, freeze.

“I don’t know,” you begin, words falling out of your mouth in a current, previous caution utterly forgotten in the face of animal fear. “You’re dangerous—but you’re honest—and I don’t know why you were locked up or what’ll happen when you get free, but I also don’t really care.”

“You don’t care?” Vere inquires, lips curling into another smile. He looks relentlessly amused. “What if I told you… that I plan to eat every man, woman and child I see after I get out? I’ve been hungry for that kind of flesh since before you ever dreamed of coming to Eridia. Eating off the same menu for centuries will do that to you. And they won’t stand a prayer, you know. Do you really not care?”

“I probably should, but I think… I realized I can’t worry about everyone, especially people I don’t know. I’m not Leander. I’m not delusional enough to think I can save everyone.” Your pulse rings slow in your ears. It’s grounding, somehow. 

Vere releases you, the tight warmth of his hand gone with him. If you were sober, perhaps you would be mortified at how much you miss it.

“You can’t play nanny to every poor sod that comes crawling up to you on the street.” Vere observes airily. “I suppose that’s a start.”

“Gee,” you say.

“Oh, please. Don’t pout,” he tuts, tapping you on the nose. He’s closer now, pressed right up against your side. “Human morality is the first hurdle to realizing our goals.” he drawls, lifting himself over you as he continues. His knees dip into the mattress on either side of your hips, eyes go bright through the lavender haze which permeates the room. “You’ve mounted it with flying colors. Now, do I need to throw in a little extra something to get you to stop moping? I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, but you’ve been such a good—”

He rattles on, voice falling to the wayside as his plump lips run absentmindedly along your jaw. Your world becomes that single, molten point of contact. Your head tilts to the side, eyelids dipping low as he whispers his filth into your skin. Little pinpricks of pleasure wind straight down your spine, throbbing pleasure building between your thighs. 

The tips of his hair tickle your exposed skin, where your shirt has ridden up to expose a sliver of stomach. Belly-up, you realize idly, close enough for him to dig straight into your soft center.

“Surmounted,” you mumble groggily.

“Pardon?” Vere asks, looking up at you with one eye. His face is half-pressed into the column of your throat. A fang peeks out from between his lips. There’s a pleasant numbness settled at the back of your skull, a silvery sense of weightlessness. Whatever you were worried about before has been washed away by that dreamy lavender, that pearlescent hue which even now veils your vision.

“Before—you said I mounted it. But you, uhm, meant to say. Surmounted.”

Vere reaches out and pinches your cheek. “You have me in your lap and that’s what you’re thinking about?” He settles atop of you, chest-to-chest, one cheek gracefully perched atop his palm. “I don’t know if I should be offended or worried. That brain of yours isn’t smoothing out, is it? Your skull isn’t getting soft?”

“I’m drunk,” you remind him, still coherent enough to try and inch away from his hand, nose wrinkling. You stretch your neck until the muscles creak in protest, smooshing the back of your head into the pillow.

His finger freezes a centimeter above you, and he laughs. “You are, aren't you? Forgot about all that.” 

“You’re the one who made me drink,” you grumble.

“Ah, ah, ah, I didn’t make you do anything. I simply offered my honored guest a refreshing beverage, like any half-decent host would,” Vere tuts. “Trying to blame my good manners for your sloppiness? You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I’m not really cute,” you hum, reaching over to gently toy with his hair.

“Don’t be dense,” Vere coos, pressing his finger against the tip of your nose. Your eyes cross to look at it. He snorts, privy to some sort of irony beyond your current ken. His hair gleams like… rubies under the watery light. It’s soft as it looks, silken and smooth where it washes over the sheets in tides of russet. 

He sighs, “I could swallow you whole here and now and you couldn’t do a single thing to stop me.” he says, wistful.

“I know, but I would taste like—like that weird nut stuff the Wick makes.”

“Nut stuff? Now you’ve caught my attention,” he purrs in a way that even drunk, you know spells trouble.

“I don’t mean anything—dirty. Y’know, the stuff they put on the counter. It tastes bad,” you stammer. You blink several times in succession, as though it’ll make your thoughts less syrupy. The world still blurs at the edges of your vision. You’re thinking through a layer of cotton.

“Of course it tastes bad, it’s free,” Vere retorts. “Nothing worth anything comes for free. Not in this shithole.” You hum in consideration. His bushy tail is still behind him, rested off to the side, next to your thigh. You don’t dare touch it, even though you’ve already touched his hair. 

He radiates warmth, and you find yourself lulled by it in combination with the downy soft mattress at your back. You make a small sound, nestling closer to the heat, to the craven beast with nary a peep of protest. Perhaps being devoured is a far better fate than you initially thought. Because it’ll at least be warm inside. Warm like the breath which fans over your cheek.

“Got to come here for free,” you mumble in the last throes of consciousness. There’s a pause.

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” he says, voice dripping with fond condescension. He says something else, and something else. Vere, you get the sense, sometimes talks more for himself than he does for others. But you can’t say you mind, because you say so little. And what a wonderful ability, to be able to spin such incredible weaves of conversation out of thin air. Not that you’ll ever tell him as much.

Soft lips press to the space above your brow. In the dark, a small voice whispers. “You’ll pay your dues later.”

---

Run, the fawn within you, weak and knobby-kneed, beseeches. Its cries go unheeded.

[ask-ursa-tonypeter]

I've actually got two questions, and didn't know whether to separate them. Oh, well. I've been wondering, what will happen eventually for Pyrate Peter and Tony? I can imagine that this a spoiler that you will explore in next works, so I understand if you can't answer, but man, I just can't help thinking. It's such a bomb waiting to go off. Not just the feelings involved; the way Peter is basically all in but might be too young to recognize it as love, or to even realize how messed up the power imbalance would be and the shady circunstances in which they first came to make out - and then Tony, who is getting deeper and deeper into the mud, sliding down with no chance to crawl back up, trying to convince himself that he's not gone on his baby brother. But also the whole morality of it and the aspect of Tony taking advantage of Peter, seeing it even as a game. On top of all of that you still have Howard and Maria, and the whole problem that would be dating your brother while being one of the most famous families in the country. It's just not the fact of Maria and Howard finding out, like that one ask talked about, but just the notion that any road might lead to complicated branchs and difficult avenues. What would a happy ending look like for them? Would they be able to keep up the charade their whole lives? Would Peter feel groomed and go no contact? So many questions... Then, the second one, more of a prompt than an actual question. If you have any plans for continuing Kidnapped!au, I'd love to see the exact conversation Other!Peter has with Pyrite!Tony when Other!Peter and Pyrite!Peter make it to Pyrite!Peter's reality of origin. Like, the shovel talk, the warning; the I hope this goes without saying, but you are never touching him again. Would he threaten him? Use a little bit of Spidey intimidation tactic? I love Pyrite so much. Best Starker AU ever.

[[🐻ursa interlude🐻

Aww thank you I'm so glad you enjoy this universe! I admit the Pyrite boys take up a LOT of space in my brain haha so it makes me happy when other folks are interested. The things you talked about here are indeed a lot of the things that will be discussed in the sequel, which, mild basic premise spoilers, will follow the brothers as their relationship changes/develops over the years! Lots to dig into there and I hope you enjoy the eventual outcome 👀

Aaaand as far as the kidnapping AU, wellllll:]]

"Tony, can you show me Pete's room? He asked me to make a few changes," Peter said.

Tony— this younger Peter's Tony, Peter Stark's Tony, and it would've creeped Peter out a little that they were brothers even before knowing everything else—rose to his feet, looking appropriately haunted as he struggled to tear his eyes away from where Pete was still huddled with his parents on the couch, all of them with shaky hands and red-rimmed eyes and unsteady voices even hours later.

He was such the perfect picture of a caring older sibling, shellshocked by his little brother's return, that it was hard to imagine him doing the things that Pete had quietly told Peter about back in that warped version of Stark Tower.

But it was hard to imagine a Tony being the cruel dictator Peter had seen with his own eyes in that world, too, and after managing that situation, Peter wasn't feeling charitable.

It was convenient that the Stark family home had such long, isolated hallways. Peter closed the door behind them when they reached Pete's room anyway, but not because he was afraid of being overheard.

"Pete doesn't want your parents to know this, but he asked me to tell you," he said in response to Tony's vaguely questioning expression. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and continued, "I'm proof enough of the whole multiverse thing, yeah? So we're going to skip the part where you don't believe me when I tell you that the guy who kidnapped Pete was another Tony Stark."

Peter didn't say anything as he watched Tony's expression shift from incomprehension to shock to— there it was: horror.

"He— but then he— what does that mean?" Tony shook his head, wild, and it was fascinating to see any version of him thrown this off-balance. "No, no, that's—"

"Yeah, no," Peter interrupted, pushing off the wall. "We're skipping that part, I said. What it means is that the whole time Pete has been gone, the creep that he's spent every single day with for the last year, the creep that's been keeping him prisoner and abusing him and forcing him to do stuff he didn't want to do, the creep he's been living in fear of being murdered by, looked exactly like you, plus thirty-odd years. That's what it means."

Tony stared at him with a kind of numb dismay that seemed genuine enough, but Peter stayed quiet, eyebrows raised and waiting for a response. He wasn't going to rush in with softening disclaimers or rug-sweeping platitudes. He'd told the truth, and it was Tony's turn to talk.

He saw the change on Tony's face once he realized Peter was letting the words and all of their implications dangle there on purpose. Tony flinched back, and he had the audacity to look offended as he said, heated, "I wouldn't—"

"You wouldn't?" Peter's voice was sharp, cutting off Tony's defensive protest at the knees, and it was gratifying to watch his eyes widen with the recognition that Peter knew.

"Yeah," Peter said, and maybe it was a point in Tony's favor that he didn't shrink away as Peter stalked closer. "Me and Pete had a lot of time to talk while we were figuring out how to get us both home, you know? So I really hope that this goes without saying, but—"

He laid a heavy hand on Tony's shoulder, and leaned in close when he said, "You are never going to touch him again. Understood?"

So much about this Tony was jarring and unfamiliar. His family tie to his Pete. The things he had done. The youth of his face; the way he was closer to Peter's age than to the Tony that Peter knew. The way he stared at Peter, pale and frightened, because Peter's Tony had never had a reason to be afraid of him.

But Peter knew what regret looked like on Tony. He knew what self-hatred looked like on Tony— the furrow in his brow, the downturned corners of his lips, the crack of helplessness in his eyes that wasn't resignation but rather the desperation to fix.

So when Tony finally, finally nodded, silent, just a tiny wobble of his head with his eyes trained on the floor, Peter let his hand drop away from his shoulder.

"Good," he said, and he stepped back with a firm nod of his own. "Because Pete doesn't want to blow up another part of his life, and he deserves to have what he wants, but I'm going to be staying in touch. And I'm not going to let him get hurt again, and neither is anyone else in this house. Yeah?"

Tony nodded again, his eyes squeezed shut, and this time he managed to whisper, "Yeah."

And that was something. Peter didn't know how much it meant that Tony was agreeing with him; that he felt guilty. He'd wondered before— if he'd had the opportunity to talk to Westcott afterwards, would he have felt guilt? Would he have bowed his head with shame and been unable to meet Peter's eyes, like this unfamiliar Tony?

He didn't know. He couldn't know, and he wasn't sure he would've felt strong enough to take the opportunity even if he could. But this was what Pete had said he wanted, and Peter wasn't going to take another choice away from him if he could help it.

"Awesome," Peter said, and he cocked his head. "Pete said he wants to move his room closer to your parents'. I'll do the heavy lifting, but help me pack up the little stuff?"

Tony's head jerked up as he was clearly startled by the ask, but it only took a few beats for his expression to wash out with relief— relief and focus, and oh, Peter recognized that too.

"Okay," Tony said weakly, and he cleared his throat. "I— yeah. I can do that."

Peter watched as he moved with renewed purpose, packing trinkets and framed photos into boxes with scrupulous care and thrumming with the energy of having something to do with his regrets. His eyes were still downturned and his shoulders hunched with shame, but— nothing could've been more familiar to Peter than a Tony who was doubling down on fixing something he thought he had broken. And if Peter was still suspicious— still planning on keeping close tabs on Pete, still ready to dig up more insight into Tony's true feelings and exact intentions surrounding his little brother— that was enough to have him hoping that maybe, maybe, maybe things would be okay.

[fangswbenefits]

So, unpopular kink (opinion?) -

I love breeding kink....without the pregnancy. I know! It seems counterintuitive. I just love the thought of him breeding you and telling you about how he could and the fantasy of it. However, the rarity of a dhampir kinda rides that line of both. So, I get it.

Also, Dad!Astarion...but not with bio kids. I would want nothing more than this man loving his found family and bonding/loving/protecting a charge that he is not biologically connected too.

That being said.

Bonus Horny Astarion Thought (C) -

The crew finds a baby (say in the underdark, so not many mammals around). After trying to find its parents without luck, Tav figures out a way to lactate to feed the baby. Spell? True polymorph? Hormones go crazy, who cares its dnd, this game is goofy and vague. Anyway, Astarion is annoyed at the risk of having a baby in the camp, he doesn't see the point in risking their lives to save a random loud baby. She makes some comment about feeding him and yet they keep him around, which passes him off, until he sees her nursing and that breaks something in him. The fact that she's willing to take in and save someone helpless and selflessly give her body to nourish them. It mirrors their current situation and his past where no saved him, no one cared enough to see he was in trouble. Stuff happens and they find the baby's parents, but now Astarion has conflicting thoughts/emotions, especially when feeding on Tav. The lactation hangs around, he's hopelessly intrigued and has no idea what to do or how to tell her about it. Until Tav leaks all over him while he's feeding....

Idk where I was going with this, it just sort of happened?

Astarion brain rot. It's so bad. When does it end? Does it end? Will I ever be normal again?

Sorry for yet another rambling ask!

Someone on discord mentioned that there is nothing in D&D lore that suggests dhampirs are rare because they are difficult to conceive (and I searched around and it is true). I think they are not that common because I assume not many vampires are interested in mixing themselves with humans to produce an offspring that could potentially kill them and their kind. Cause yeah... in lore, dhampirs are very skilled monster hunters since they know first-hand how a vampire behaves and how to exploit their weaknesses 😅

I tend to have that premise in my breeding kink fics cause I just love the idea of Astarion having to keep trying and trying again 🤭

But I do love your ideas tbh! I can see why the breeding with no consequences is hot 👀

And that cute scenario with Tav breastfeeding the baby and Astarion just falling in love because of how selfless she is.... 🥹

[moreespressoformydepresso]

knock knock ⭐ losing battle plssss

(future me adding this later because I want people to see this without reading this whole mess: In The Losing Battle, Lamina loves Treech while Tanner loves the idea of Treech. Explanation is at the end of the post below)

Omg okay there is so much I could and want to talk about but I'd be writing several essays so I'll try to keep this contained to one thing. If anyone else is interested I'll ramble about the other stuff because there is so much that I haven't put into text yet or have kept vague/implied so far (IE what exactly happened between Treech and Vipsania during the interviews and dynamics between characters that are neither Treech nor Lamina). A lot of it is due to perspective restraints, because I love me an unreliable narrator to the point where I've never written anything that didn't contain it to some degree but it does make it difficult to fully get across what the character thinks vs what's actually happening around them. There's a lot of smaller inaccuracies in their perception of reality that I don't see anyone mentioning (though to be fair not many people talk to me about the fic) so I don't know if anyone caught them or not. A shame, really, because I've put a stupid amount of thought into them.

Also, there's just so much to say about all my fics but especially this one! I could talk about all the different motivations of characters who aren't very present or the tensions building in the background or the deep explanations of why characters do what they do that TreeMina isn't self-aware or present enough for to realize or I could talk about how this whole fic's basic premise is the soul-crushing reality that major, world-shattering changes on a personal level barely have any impact on the bigger picture until decades in the future but I'll pick just one. Oohh this is gonna be difficult I just really want to type whatever comes to mind but I can't. But! That's enough useless introductory words. Onto the unhinged ramblings of a mad entity!

The mini LumberHouse subplot! Otherwise known as why Tanner really doesn't like Lamina in this fic, even if it isn't that apparent due to how small his role is in the story.

I'm choosing Tanner because I have a lot to say about him, but unlike the main duo or Vipsania and Pup, Tanner isn't gonna get a big spotlight chapter as it stands right now. Maybe as a mini spin off one-shot but I'm not planning on it. Vip and Pup will get more focus later, especially once Treech and Lamina are out of the arena, but Tanner just doesn't have enough impact on the story to get that. Which is the intention here.

My basic idea for Tanner is that he's someone who very clearly has his own life and complicated emotions during the games, with pain and drama and the whole shebang, but it all happens in the background. You can get a good idea of his struggles if you pay attention but it's just as easy to read past and not even notice, because he's not a main character. He's my representation for the way all these kids had their own stories that could just have easily been the one you were reading, but you aren't. So you only get glimpses whenever one of the actual main characters is close enough to take note. Most of his story is implied, with enough room for other people to have different interpretations than what I intended. The timeline in my head for the Tanner/Treech arc of Tanner's life is as follows:

Tanner didn't even really notice Treech before the arena bombing. Sure, he enjoyed the singing and he knew his name, but at most he really noticed him due to his proximity to Lamina, who Tanner tended to pay attention to due to her crying. Then Treech had the balls to turn Coral's offer down during the bombing. and Tanner really started to see Treech. The way he shared all of his food, the small ways in which he showed kindness, the way his face lit up so prettily when he smiled. Tanner became intrigued, but only ever from a distance. With dawning horror he realizes he's developed a crush on a boy he'll be forced to kill in a matter of days, and he can't even go and talk to him. When they meet up in the arena, it's no accident. Tanner deliberately snuck away from Coral and Mizzen to see if he could catch a glimpse of Treech and possibly even talk to him, if only to give himself some closure. When he finds Treech with Dill, his feelings deepen, but when he hears Lamina calling for him... When he sees the way those two interact, he knows he's lost. He lost before he even began.

See, Tanner dislikes Lamina, but it's not for anything she's done. It's because she has what he wants to have: A connection with Treech. She's had years to get to know him and spend time with him, and Tanner didn't even get an hour. Now, he's not stupid, Tanner knows that he and Treech were never gonna be a thing because no shit, one of them is gonna have to die here, but it doesn't lessen the jealousy. It doesn't erase the what-ifs and the might-have-beens. And unlike Lamina, Tanner doesn't get to spend his last few days with someone he cares about. Brandy's gone and Treech is at the top of his alliance's blacklist. Whether he lives or dies, he'll have spent these days as good as alone.

The biggest difference between Tanner and Lamina that made TreeMina endgame instead of LumberHouse is that Tanner has a crush where Lamina is in love. One of the most painful things for Tanner is that he knows he could've loved Treech if he'd had the time, and maybe it could have been mutual, but they don't. Lamina did have that time, and over the years she and Treech fell in love far past a simple crush. Basically, Lamina is scared of losing what she has where Tanner laments what might have been if things were just a little different. Tanner doesn't actually know Treech, they've barely spoken to each other, and while he has a good grasp of who Treech is due to what he's seen so far, he's only seen bits and pieces of his person. Therefore, he can't really love Treech. He has a crush on him, and he loves the idea of Treech he has in his head based on what he's observed. How accurate that image of him is, is a whole different question. Lamina, meanwhile, has had years to get to know him. She and Treech have shared many vulnerable, personal moments together and their bond has grown incredibly strong over the years. Not even betrayal could fully break it. Lamina truly loves Treech, because she knows him better than anyone else. From his strengths to his biggest flaws, she's seen them all and she loves him for it.

Lamina gets to stay with Treech because she knows him in ways Tanner will never get the chance to, and he hates her for it.

[tiabwwtws-art]

Been playing a little game called pretend that I was given a written premise for fe engage characters and had to design them as if they didn't already have designs*. Here's Timerra, Panette, and Yunaka !

*kind of. I keep color palettes and generally follow that rule loosely but that's what it is in theory

Explanations/thought process bullet points below the cut

Timerra

I gave her Fogado's feathery sleeves and her mother's feathers in her hat to make them feel a little more connected

In her support with Alear she talks about wearing jewels and she straight up is not. Unless her balloons are jewels¿? So I gave her some

Because she starts off with Ike's ring, she now has Ike's sleeveless-nes with the one shoulder pad and the big cape.

Changed her hair a bit to fit jewelry I thought would be neat

Tried to keep metal off of her skin directly so she doesn't overheat

Flower motif. Just felt like the vibe

Tried to vaguely keep her original silhouette, in that her center of gravity is at her hips. Everything else "points" in that direction

Panette

With how dedicated she is to being a Solm Retainer, you'd think she'd present herself in the Solm fashion more. (Not that Solm fashion is very concrete; I mainly worked off of Seforia and my Timerra redesign for consistency in that regard. So she has the signature lightweight fabric and the tassels + beads to indicate wealth.)

She needs a hood because she is so pale and she is going to sunburn to death . Also it's a little bit gothy

She's significantly less gothy overall bc it seems to me like Presenting As Dignified As Her Station Requires is her whole thing, and being goth is just a hobby

Tried to make her center of gravity higher so that everything points to her shoulders and she's parallel and opposite to Timerra. Don't know how well I succeeded there

Had a difficult time fitting in her brawling into her design. She's embarrassed about it so she wouldn't really want to indicate it...but it's also practical to be ready to throw down if needed...I worked that out by having wraps around her arms that are mostly covered, but on second thought I could stand to extend those to wrap around her knuckles too

Yunaka

Wanted to lean into her mysteriousness + practicality while also letting her be flashy

She's transfem. To me.

Tried to contrast very lightweight assassin-y cloth with big chunky leather

She lowkey reminds me of wolfwood trigun so she obviously keeps her low cut neckline. In reference to him 🙏

Kept it simple but with flare (hopefully). Flashiness is in how her clothing works as she moves (the two-toned "cloak" flitting behind her should be striking) instead of flashiness in jewelry or accessories.

Spare knives at her belt seem appropriate

Tried to keep fluttery strips of cloth throughout her design as a motif

Piercing. Real and true

[colaloli]

A Shadow Standing in Prayer- Kasumi Easter 2024 4☆ -part 1-

(Starless hall, Saki finds someone in the middle of the hall)

Saki: (Oh? Who's that over there…)

(Saki approaches)

Kasumi: Ah, Saki-san.

Oh my~ being found all alone in the hall is quite an unbecoming blunder as a mob.

Please keep this little thing a secret.

Saki: Fufu, I understand. What were you up to, Kasumi-san?

Kasumi: We were just rehearsing a while ago, but there was something that was bothering me.

I just wanted to see how it would look from the audience's perspective.

Saki: The thing that was bothering you…?

Kasumi: The scene wherein Sei was all by himself and lost in his thoughts.

It's a scene without any lines, and he is sitting down on the stage with his head bowed down.

I was thinking about how much I could convey to the audience by just sitting there in silence.

Saki: That seems… quite difficult.

Kasumi: For this show, we don't have any detailed instructions for direction, that's why everyone's expressing their own interpretations, but—

In the first place, I haven't even decided on “what I want to show” for this performance on my part.

Saki: What you want to show, is it?

Kasumi: The original is a famous poem, so there are many theories about its meaning and motifs.

The main point of most discussions is that “No one blames the sparrow for killing the robin”.

Saki: It's true, the story does proceed with the premise that the robin is dead.

Kasumi: In the Starless adaptation, Sienna had no choice but to kill Mei.

But, even so…

…

… Ah~ sorry about that. Being “undecided” is a tricky position, isn't it?

Saki: I can't really say anything about it but… I'm going to see Kasumi-san’s stage.

Kasumi: My stage, huh.

The thing that I'm quite hung up on is… I do empathize with my role, there's that. But because there is something precious to him,

When in front of the one that he needs to protect, he is reminded of the feeling of losing something that is precious to him.

Saki: Kasumi-san…

Kasumi: “I don't care what condition she's in, I want her to live” something like that, in the end, it's just his ego.

Even so, is that okay?

Well, we wouldn't know until I try. I have to give it a shot.

I can't show that I'm not good enough. I'll do my best until it's time for the show.

Some notes: The show is originally a poem with only the animal names mentioned so in the Starless version, they personified these.

Roles mentioned in this story:

Mei- heroine role; the robin

Sei- Kasumi's role; chief mourner/heroine's brother (Originally dove but they never mentioned the species in story. I assume they made it vague on purpose so it's to be open for yume)

Sienna- Mokuren's role; the sparrow

Masterlist

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Hey, can I get being the Best friend or close Friends With Rafal or Rhian ( Or maybe both? ) maybe the reader is a childhood friend or something. The gender can be whatever or whichever you prefer.

That's if you are comfortable writing that. 😁

My apologies. I wasn't really planning on taking writing requests of this type since I'm not currently interested in writing reader prompts. At times, I sort of view most readers as a blank slate rather than a character themselves, unlike the way an OC or a canon character would have a more definitive personality.

Thus, determining reactions by the reader would be difficult unless I gave the reader a defined personality I chose and made up, which might not align with what you or others want from a self-insert. Sure, I suppose I could fill in the blanks myself, and give the reader traits, essentially making them closer to an OC, but I'm not particularly interested in writing an SGE OC at this time either.

So, overall, I think I'd have a bit of a hard time with the vague nature of this request/anticipating what the reader "should" be like since it doesn't really give me a "plot" to work with, just a blank "character," if you understand what I'm getting at. Sorry if this is at all unclear.

That said, when I originally said you could address characters directly (in this post), perform actions and get them to respond, or give them information or a query to react to, I am open to writing Rhian or Rafal responding to a friend-like gesture or a what-if of some kind, say, what if a reader gave Rhian and Rafal a gift as a friend. This would give me enough specificity to more easily work with.

It's just that I don't plan on representing the asker/reader as anything much further beyond an entity, as if they were the bringer of content/information or the doer of a deed.

In a lot of cases, a typical response might take a form like this:

What would happen if I/you/the reader did/gave/said [this] to the brothers?

And the response would be the aftermath of that action/prompt, usually, written more passively, so as not to involve the reader/asker/doer/whomever:

Q: What would happen if Agatha were given a bouquet?

A: She would sneeze because of her pollen allergies.

Or, alternatively, an answer might look like this:

A: Agatha: [sneezes] Thank you for the flowers, but I'm afraid I'm going to hand them off to Sophie instead. She will appreciate them more than I could.

So, in conclusion, you could "do" something, essentially, perform an action/impart a (potentially dramatic) piece of information, but I won't usually take requests the type of relationship you're requesting. Yet, feel free to send another ask, if you have anything in mind that I might actually write.

For further clarification, what you could probably expect to get from a non-reader request is something with more focus on the character(s) involved and their reaction to an item/action/question posed.  This would mean the focus inherently won't be on the doer of the action (the reader/asker) whether it's on themselves, as a person, or on a relationship with the canon characters.

Overall, I simply don't plan on establishing new relationships with non-canon characters in the case of asks, and I'll only tend to work with new events/novel scenarios/prompts, involving existent characters and relationships.

Most likely, I'll try to keep to some form of canon (or if specified, my fics), as far as characterization or relationships go, depending on what an ask requires. While I think the idea of the brothers having a best friend is sweet, it doesn't really fit with my (very subjective) sense of their characters. Albeit, Rhian might be open to having a friend outside of Rafal.

So, to sum this up: I don't (usually) take formal writing requests or those involving a reader, and I'm sorry if I had ever been misleading about this before. (When I wrote dialogue or scripted scenes for other prompts, it was because I was given a premise/writing prompt that actually contained a "plot"/inciting incident/central concept of some kind, and chose to make the characters respond to events/information/other content within what I interpreted, sort of, to be the bounds of canon or the particular hypotheticals.)

None of my previous asks have been complete stories (they tend to be scenes or snippets) like the nature of this request seems to suggest(?), and I'm tempted to say this is because a relationship is a state of being, not a singular event, and such a thing could require much more development or the invention of a self-insert's "character." Also, honestly, I'm not an expert on reader-inserts as a genre, so I might not be the ideal person to ask.

However, again, if you would like to perform an action or give me dialogue of some kind, addressed to the brothers, I'd (usually) be willing to let Rafal and/or Rhian or anyone else from canon respond to such a gesture or events, if the gesture isn't by you or another hypothetical person with a major role.

So, apologies again, but I don't plan on taking requests that involve readers in the vast majority of cases, yet what I will write are Rhian and Rafal (or other characters) responding to concrete things or scenarios, usually in the context of their already-existent relationships, unless they otherwise happened to meet someone from canon they did not previously know.

Basically, these conditions would exclude a new, blank-slate relationship since I can't be absolutely sure what a reader-insert should be like, to successfully align with an asker's tastes, and simply don't have an interest in writing this type of dynamic at the moment.

Finally, if you or anyone else would like me to clarify anything they didn't understand (sorry if anything was explained too circularly), or if anyone has more questions on what I am generally willing or not willing to write, please don't hesitate to ask!

[mediaevalmusereads]

Cuckoo. By Gretchen Felker-Martin. Nightfire, 2024.

Rating: 2/5 stars

Genre: horror, lgbtqia+

Series: N/A

Summary: In the late 90s, five queer kids, whose parents want them “fixed,” find themselves thrown together at a secretive "tough love" camp deep in the scorching Utah desert.

Tormented and worked to the point of collapse by hardline religious zealots intent on straightening them out, they slowly become aware that something in the mountains north of the camp is speaking to them in their dreams, and that the children who return home to their families have...changed.

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: homophobia (including conversion/wilderness camps and family rejection), abuse, violence, blood/gore, body horror, transphobia (including internalized transphobia and deadnaming), fatphobia, moderate sexual content, racism, references to rape, self harm, suicide, allusions to pedophilia/incest/statutory rape

OVERVIEW: I was Googling around for some queer horror to read when I stumbled upon this book. The premise looked interesting, so I grabbed a copy and started reading, knowing nothing about this author beforehand. Overall, I think some things were done really well while others were probably not for me. On the one hand, the unsettling suspense of the prologue was great, as was the overall horror story and cast of characters. On the other hand, the pace of this book felt slow and characters could have been developed more. Thus, this book gets a 2 star rating from me.

Writing: Felker-Martin's prose is generally pretty good. I think it balances showing and telling well, and there are moments when the unsettling nature of the wilderness camp really got under my skin. The prose is also clear and quick, so it feels like it's going by pretty fast.

That being said, I do think there were some things that stood out as needing improvement. For one, the number of perspectives in this book made it difficult to both follow the main plot and keep up with the cast of characters. For two, I noticed some repetitive descriptions, like one character consistently being referred to as the "fat boy" and quite a lot of vomiting/pissing oneself. For three, the pace is fairly slow, so while the sentences themselves feel quick, overall progression feels like a slog.

PLOT: The plot of this book follows a group of queer teenagers in the late 1990s as they try to survive a wilderness camp. They are horribly abused and soon learn that there's something else about the camp - something taking their bodies and wearing their faces, posing as reformed children.

It's hard to actually communicate how the narrative progressed because for me, it was not at all clear. There are way too many POV characters, and they're interchangeable enough where it didn't feel like I was following a bunch of threads that would eventually come together. Instead, I was unsure of how scenes built on one another, and it was difficult to be invested in any one character's arc because there weren't many actual arcs to begin with. The result is a story that feels somewhat disjointed and slow, juxtaposing moments of horrific abuse with scenes where the campers are vaguely plotting something or wandering around.

What also made this story difficult was the lack of connection between characters. Characters don't seem to really bond in any meaningful way; they bully each other or decide to sleep together, so it either felt like everyone was out on their own or was attracted to someone else with no real reason. I think picking just a few POV characters and having them develop a true sense of emotional intimacy and solidarity would have gone a long way.

I did, however, enjoy the prologue immensely and thought it showed the most promise. The unsettling thing about the prologue is that it details the life of a camper after she has returned to her family. Very quickly, the mother realizes there's something... not right. A little too Stepford. As a result, the prologue plays with some nice ideas: homophobic parents sensing their child is "gone" after sending them to conversion camp, the idea of replacing one's kid for a copy that is a little too polished. I thought Felker-Martin was going to dive into these ideas a little more, especially since the idea of "body snatching" would have been an interesting way to explore trans identity. But all the promise seemed to fall through and I didn't get as nuanced a take on queer horror as I would have liked.

CHARACTERS: As noted above, there are a lot of characters and not a lot of development. I'm not going to go through all of them, so I'll just talk generally.

I did appreciate that there was a variety of queer characters. There were trans characters, lesbian characters, East Asian characters, Black characters, fat characters... it felt like they were varied and I enjoyed watching some of them come to realize who they were and why they had certain reactions to things.

But in the end, I didn't feel like I saw anyone grow or evolve, and I wasn't exactly satisfied by the conclusion. While there were some scenes with tender moments, I ultimately didn't feel like there was much human connection throughout the book, either between characters or between characters and the reader. Perhaps this is because I felt like my attention was being pulled in too many directions, but maybe it's also because this book didn't seem to know what it was trying to say or do.

TL;DR: Cuckoo is admirable for the visceral reactions it provokes through its gross imagery, but it was hard to connect with the huge cast of characters.

[nyelung]

Fic author interview! Let's see what that sets rolling in my head. Maybe even some words for fic? Thank you @lynne-monstr <3

No-pressure tagging: @narina-vhey @dragonpyre @theloneliestshipper

How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 26 after I went on a bit of an orphaning (and deletion) spree last year.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

397,281. Also a victim of last year, I guess, but I'm getting back there. I kinda hope to find the time to raise that to 500k and feel good with what I've written but we'll see.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Hence begins the journey (part 4 of the vampire Percy series I'm writing) - 598

The Ferryman (potc) - 474

Negotiator's Garden (star wars OS) - 414

Of New Beginnings (part 1 of the vampire Percy series I'm writing) - 344

Far Dawn (part 3 of the vampire Percy... well, you can guess it) - 307

Well, I'm seeing a pattern here is all I'm saying. I'm also wistfully staring at the Ferryman because, well, that's no longer my baby because it's too old for that but that fic has been with me for a while and looking at it now I really want to get around to officially finishing it someday. It's also hilarious to see that Star Wars oneshot up there but I guess vaguely fae Obi-Wan is a fun premise. Fond memories writing that one.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do. There are a few comments in my inbox that are a bit of a pile of shame right now but generally I respond to comments because I love talking about the fic I share. Like that one post so eloquently put it: I write for myself, I share for a feeling of community. Or something like that.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ooof, that's a tough question because I don't like angsty endings with a few rare exceptions. I think the closest I got online can aspire to vaguely ominous (as in hinting at Order 66) but that's not much, is it?

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Another tough question because I don't go darker than bittersweet for endings I write so, in a way, they're all more or less happy endings? Hmm, I would say maybe No Doubt In Us (TKA canon divergence) bc a) it's actually finished and b) the characters worked hard for their ending and got it.

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not as often as I'd like to and somehow I never get around to finishing them.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

One or two unhappy comments when I wrote Obi-Wan as bisexual (I mean, come on, look at the guy. He's supposed to be straight?) because how dare I write him like that but that's about it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Rarely and somehow usually as a gift for one person or another. Curious.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not apart from those mass-stealing incidents where lots of fic got copied to other sites and all that. At least not that I know of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think ten years ago or so someone wanted to translate one of my fics into russian but I honestly can't remember what came of that.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, actually, with the wonderful @theloneliestshipper and with @narina-vhey but overall I prefer to write on my own because I got my own approach, time limitations and all in all it just became too stressful.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I don't have one. On further thought, I don't think I'd be happy having an all-time favourite. I prefer that to stay in constant flux.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Oh, that's difficult. Stuff from the pile of shame, probably, so i'll pass on this answer^^

15. What are your writing strengths?

I am told that I manage to keep the characters in character but I think my favourite thing that one person pointed out was that I am good at building connections between canon tidbits to make up new canon divergences and headcanons.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Since my favourite topic is canon divergence, most of my plotbunnies have a tendency to turn into longfic which, as we all know, is not that easy to finish.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I could read this question in two ways but I think it means writing dialogue in a different language than the general narration and, no, just no. I don't automatically pass on a fic for that if it's using phrases from a conlang in moderation but usually it's just far more confusing than enriching the experience for me.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Oh, hmm. I'm not sure. The first fandom stuff I did online was for Yu-Gi-Oh and Detective Conan, I think. First fanfic was probably some OC for some high fantasy novel or other.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Polymachina (I'm getting there) and zjl/xby/szp for King's Avatar.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written

I can't choose but the whole vampire Percy series has some of my favourite moments I've written, so I'll go with that one.

[elsiebrayisgay]

For the ask game: 3, 16 and 17 😊

um yeah! 3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic so this has changed a lot since i started writing prose, tbh, but there are some hallmarks of my process that have stayed the same. the absolute first thing that has always remained true whether it's been more academic, poetry (which is what i did for my degree,) TTRPG stuff, or now prose fanfic, is that no matter what no matter where no matter when if i have an idea i do my best to write it down. i have lost too many good ideas to not being sure what i had thought up and being certain i'd remember it. so often when i am laying in bed drifting off to sleep and thinking about my work, i will grumble and sit up and unlock my laptop to type out some notes.

another thing that was true for a while and still holds up somewhat today (with caveats) is that when i get inspired by something, i *write*. the first chapter of sourceless bruises was written in one evening after i got home from being out at dinner. i'd had vague concepts and ideas floating around for months before then but when it finally hit me i just sat down and wrote. this doesn't really happen as much anymore because even though i have the inspiration and the hyperfixation, i just don't have the energy to be up and in such high gear for so long, so i need to break it up more. this was true of my poetry and essays for school as well, though; i would just sit down start turning work out when i wanted or needed to.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

alright so i've been kind of trying to figure out what i want to write after sourceless bruises. i took kind of a long break between my first fic and my second fic (more of these queer feelings... it's probably nothing on ao3) because i was just sort of waiting to have an idea i felt really solid about working on and that's how long it took. partially because sourceless bruises is a bigger project and is taking longer, these days i have a lot more ideas for what to work on next kicking around. none of them are really formed into anything super cogent, because i pretty strictly keep myself to one involved/long-term creative project at a time. however, things i have been interested in developing once i have wrapped up sourceless bruises in no particular order:

i have a draft started for a sequel to more of these queer feelings. it's mostly outlined, but i hadn't really gotten far into the drafting process.

korrasami modern au. this kind of setting adaptation is my bread and butter, if you couldn't tell. i posted a joke about this sort of idea on tumblr a while back but it actually got a lot more traction than i was expecting and so honestly i'm thinking about putting some more work in on it.

cait/vi (vilyn?) has been really interesting to me recently. i dunno, something about those girls. so i've been thinking about early stages of what i might want to do with them, whether to give them my normal au treatment or try something else.

i have also been working a bit on a premise for some original fiction. i will only say at this point that it will be horror/mystery and probably be a fair bit bleaker than what i tend to write for ao3 (though honestly i have no idea how i would go about publishing original fiction.)

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

okay so at this point it's time to circle back to the first answer in this post because honestly the truth of how i go about writing chapters these days falls a lot more under this question than that more general one. the first thing i'm going to say is that in my opinion, writing is labor. there's an old interview with john darnielle and john k. samson (among others) where JD talks about how there's no such thing as convenience store clerk block, or coal miner's block, so writers shouldn't get blocked—they should just keep sitting down to write, and to some extent i believe in that idea, but i want to add nuance. i think there probably is such a thing as convenience store clerk block, and coal miner's block, it's just that society doesn't allow or expect them to take breaks, or go on sabbatical or whatever. so they end up working through, and maybe burning out. i think that labor is something that any person, in any field, needs to take at their own personal sustainable pace. it's really easy, as a writer, to compare yourself to others. word counts on ao3, stories published, etc. but i think it's very important to listen to your mind and body about what you need as a creative person and also just as a person. if you've got nothing right now, i think it is important to try allowing your mind to simply lie fallow. there's that post about mental crop rotation, and about letting your mind have time where it isn't expected to turn out anything that needs to get put on a page. i think respecting that need is pretty important. this philosophy is how i've been going about writing since i got out of school.

this ties into the actual difficulty i've mostly been having with sourceless bruises. around late 2022/early 2023 i had some life circumstances cause my chronic illness to get a lot more severe, from which i have never fully recovered. this has meant that my pain is a lot worse, and my energy levels are a lot lower. what i used to be able to do with turning out thousands of words a day when i was really inspired happens only very rarely now, when those moments line up with my good days. there's another post on here (somewhere in my reblogs) talking about what to do as a fic writer when your capabilities change, and a lot of the advice on that post has stuck with me. accepting my limits and working within them has definitely meant that my process is a lot slower, especially during flares (and once the weather warms up in the spring i am mostly stuck in one big flare until fall) but it also means that i get to maintain the quality of what i produce and my own quality of life. in these periods, i mostly just try to carve out a bit of time every day when i am able to sit up, usually only fifteen or twenty minutes or so, to peck away at my draft. i sit down, get a paragraph or two dealt with, maybe look at a bit of research, maybe not, and at the end of it i have maybe two hundred more words than i did before. some days, i don't even feel up to this. sometimes i go a week without doing it. but i try to just carve out some time when i can to peck away and eventually i end up with a finished chapter. that's really what my creative process looks like these days.

[starlight-time-machine]

Week in Review

02/25/2024 – 03/02/2024

Sunday

Week 3 of missing Cipher Academy.

Girl Meets Rock is getting really good…I love Rin’s Machiavellian schemes and the tense dynamic between her and Momo, who’s rightfully mad at being used as a pawn. And even though the story seems to be moving towards a Bocchi-like “we have some obstacles in our way but we’ll overcome them and be a professional-level band” story, we did get like five falling-outs and disbandments, which satisfies my need to see an accurate depiction of how high school music groups almost inevitably fall apart (I may or may not have vaguely bitter memories of certain independent high school choir groups…but I digress). Now I’m just waiting to see if they’re going to play Hato’s singing straight or have her be really bad but suited for metal screaming or something.

Undead Unluck had an amazing lore drop, but I definitely needed the comments and Twitter to jog my memory as to its importance. The fight continues to be dynamic, and I love the new designs. Reading UU is such a treat, as it’s just strength after strength.

Oshi no Ko is…I get that it’s a serious subject, but it feels like the characters are just lecturing me about things I already knew lol. And the comedic turn to keep things light didn’t go over as well in this chapter, I feel, since the earlier speech had such a feeling of “reality” to it. And then the ending….lmao…well, let’s see where they go with this. I doubt they’ll actually go through with it, but it seems difficult to deter Ruby now that she knows.

Dandadan is more of the same, but at least the creature design was unique and I liked seeing Momo and Zuma use their game abilities in creative ways. Feels truly video game-like.

Noooo Shigemoto reverted to his old outfit in Magilumiere…everything feels a touch too “back to the status quo”, complete with the exact same office and character dynamics… I just wish there was something more to mark everyone’s growth (Sakuragi has her pixie cut, but everyone else is practically identical). And if I don’t get to see Shigemoto in a frilly bathing suit, then what’s the point of a beach arc.

One Piece…I’m guessing Vegapunk programmed this message to release upon his death, and I can’t wait to see what sort of ramifications it’ll have. Seeing Luffy take on Saturn and Kizaru at once is also extremely cathartic, though I wonder if it’ll feel too OP for him to defeat them both by himself.

Okay…so…for a while now, I’ve been wanting to get into otome games. I love choosing a character to romance in farming sims, so wouldn’t it be fun to play a full-fledged game where I can pursue a deep romance with a hot anime character?

It turns out that I might not be suited for dating sims at all. I’ve tried Western ones and Japanese ones and I just can’t seem to get past the inherent artifice of it all. At least in farming sims, I can just consider the dating stuff a bonus on top of the min-maxing gameplay I get to do. But I have yet to play a dating sim that has made me feel truly emotionally attached to any of its characters – I just see past the characters and to the tropes and writing conventions they follow, and their attempts to charm me ring hollow. My own personal views on love are already pretty skewed, so none of the characters I’ve seen have ever really sufficiently woo’d me. It’s honestly a little depressing…

But anyway, I finished playing Cupid Parasite. After a lot of looking around the otome game space, I decided to try this one as my first real otoge – I liked the aesthetic, the art, the design of the main character, and the premise of being a matchmaker interested me (I thought there’d be gameplay related to this…but I guess I shouldn’t’ve expected that from a cut and dry otoge). I started playing it months ago, and I decided to pursue Shelby, as I like the “workaholic executive allergic to feelings” type of character. Now, having finished a playthrough and read some reviews, it appears that Shelby’s route is generally regarded as the weakest in the entire game………………….

But even before that, the beginning of the game was so boring and wordy, as it took forever to set up the Parasite 5 gimmick, and the story progression just felt incredibly slow and frustrating. I was hoping to at least get a few choices or any say in how things turn out (you know, gameplay?), but I think I had like five choices in my entire route. (And I know visual novels/kinetic novels aren’t necessarily beholden to giving the player gameplay moments, but I feel like dating sims should…I don’t know, give me something to work with, otherwise the romance just feels entirely unearned and like I’m just reading a romance novel between some random guy and a girl who isn’t me, even if she has my name. I don’t read a lot of romance books for a reason.) It felt like I was just going through an endless and unchanging cycle – Cupid Corp would set up some sort of weird activity to try and get the Parasite 5 interested in marriage, Gill starts simping for the main character, green guy says something about fashion and is rude to girls, purple guy tries to be a homewrecker, Raul starts talking about his weird interests, rinse and repeat for like five scenes straight with zero extra insight into these characters (because you’ll get that in their individual routes, I guess, but would it have killed them to show me a Little bit more of their personalities beyond their gimmicks so that I could possibly be enticed to trying their routes??).

Sorry for wanting gameplay in a visual novel, but I think it could’ve been a lot more fun if we had the option to match the Parasite 5 up with other characters…it would fit the theme, give them happy endings, and give the player at least some semblance of challenge as they try to romance their mark while dodging the advances of the other bachelors. I genuinely thought the matchmaker concept would come up in gameplay somehow, but I was really disappointed to find that it was all set dressing. The writing as a whole is evidently very campy and anime-like, but it wasn’t endearing to me at all. It was actually so annoying that I stopped playing the game for like half a year, and just picked it up today to finish so that I could move on with my life. (I understand that the point of dating sims is to replay it and do each route and complete the game 100% to get your money’s worth and understand the full story, but I like to play romance routes as if it were real life and I have to make a real choice. Besides that, I dislike CupiPara’s writing so much that I’d never want to replay it anyway.)

To move onto the specifics of Shelby’s route, it seems like it was the most tropey and trite one of the whole bunch. Because Shelby is so out of touch with his feelings and incapable of pursuing romance himself, the plot has to twist itself into pretzels to contrive scenarios that force him and the protagonist together in order for romance to potentially spark. Fake dating was fun for a bit, but the company sabotage stuff was boring as hell and ended in the most anti-climactic way imaginable (a dash of godly powers here, an extremely obvious betrayal there, and a bit of slapstick Roomba romance “humor” for good measure). It was funny watching them try to justify how the betrayer’s brainwashing wasn’t just a cheap way of creating a blameless villain, and that they had those feelings in the first place anyway, but in the end it had the same effect of giving me a hollow and meaningless victory.

I also can’t really take the romance scenes seriously…that drunk kiss was so out of nowhere that it skeeved me out, and the eventual sex scene just felt awkward to me, because I always imagine the seiyuu in the booth having to say these lines, and any intimacy the scene may have had just goes out the window (I might’ve felt differently if I cared about any of the bachelors’ seiyuu, but I don’t).

As a whole, this game frustrated me to no end, and I’m seriously considering that otome games may just not be for me. I have one other game that I think I might be interested in, but if that one also flops then I’ll probably write off the genre forever. I’m giving this game a 2/10, and mostly because I was pleasantly surprised by a Shu Uchida English cameo.

Monday

Whoops

Tuesday

Finally got around to watching Great Pretender: Razbliuto, but I just feel utterly bewildered by it. I’m happy to return to the world of Great Pretender and its truly international lenses and broad-mindedness, but this instalment felt a little lacking. I’m glad that Dorothy wasn’t fridged, but being an amnesiac with no agency over her own story or safety isn’t much better. Jay is a fun addition, but mainly because he’s hot and voiced by Shunsuke Takeuchi. The rest was just…I was waiting for the minutes-long explanation sequence that we usually got at the end of Great Pretender cases, but here they’re just like “oh yeah everyone was in on it so it worked perfectly” and it just feels so unsatisfying and confusing. The constant backstabbings and surprise collaborations were impossible to keep track of, and I end the movie with feeling like I don’t know what anyone was actually doing or thinking, aside from the overarching idea of Laurent pulling strings to save Dorothy from being pursued. But I don’t know, the best part of heist/conman/mystery stories in general is getting to see the solution, and we just didn’t get that here. As always, I love the art and music direction, I appreciate the multicultural representation, the circular jokes and callbacks were fun, and I like that Dorothy and Laurent seemingly mutually move on from each other at the end, but as a whole the movie was kind of a flop. 6/10.

Wednesday

I worked my way through Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin this morning – while the gory writing and world building did effectively plunge me into this world, story-wise I was left wondering what the point of it all was. The premise is so unique and interesting, and I enjoyed reading about how different people with different circumstances were adapting to the apocalypse (it’s really refreshing to get trans perspectives on a genre that’s so focused on survival and the limits of the body), but the characters themselves didn’t really grab me. As with most adult fiction, I just could never buy into the way the characters talked – even all the swearing and horny talk couldn’t really convince me. And even when there were bits of character writing that I found compelling, the lack of a strong drive in the overall narrative made the book feel like a lot of monologuing without much meaning. It felt like I was waiting for something to happen for most of the book, and by the time something finally did, I didn’t care enough about the characters to feel invested in the climax.

Afterwards, I tried reading The Spiderwick Chronicles (I got the big, 600-ish page complete edition of the series from the library), but it didn’t go so well. I remember Spiderwick being fairly culturally relevant when I was a kid – it had a movie, and I constantly saw the books at my library, but for some reason I never got into it despite loving creature compendiums and cryptozoology when I was young. Now, having read through the first book (only 90 something pages, and a quarter of them illustrations…), I see that my tastes are still mostly the same, just more refined. Spiderwick’s writing is just so boring – things happen one after the other without any sort of flourish or sense of how to craft an interesting narrative. It feels like I’m reading through bullet points of plot milestones instead of getting invested in an actual story. There’s just no character to the writing at all. Needless to say I won’t be continuing with this series.

I watched the latest Game Changer episode with my friend, and it was a decently funny and surprisingly straightforward game. My friend and I even tried out some of the questions ourselves, though only about three of them actually applied to us.

While I was doing all this reading, I watched Liella’s 1st Live Tour, Starlines. Gen 1 Liella is my favourite incarnation of the group, so seeing them perform as five was really moving and nostalgic. All five of them have such strong beautiful voices, and the moments where they got to harmonize a cappella or had solo lines were absolutely gorgeous. I love that they structured the setlist to follow the timeline of the anime’s first season – seeing the girls step out in their costumes after seeing them in anime form on screen felt like I was witnessing the true emotive power of 2.5 media. AND THE AUDIENCE DOING THE LIGHTSTICKS THING FOR TINY STARS ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I did cry at Tiny Stars because it’s my favourite Liella song ever and I love Keke and KuKa and ahhhrhghgyudhj But then Tokonatsu Sunshine was so fun and Nako’s high note was such a slay, then Matataki was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard in my life, then Non-Fiction was so jfshgywueuhfsj and Starlight Prologue aahdjfk I love Gen 1 Liella so so so so much…

Afterwards, I read Cookie by Jacqueline Wilson in one sitting. Playing A Walk in the Sun a few months ago and reading the creator’s notes about Jacqueline Wilson reminded me that I enjoyed quite a few of her books as a kid (I was drawn to her writing about imperfect and non-nuclear families), so I decided to go back and see if I still liked her work. I hadn’t read Cookie before (that I can remember, anyway), but it seemed like a pretty slam dunk premise for the type of story that Wilson usually writes. It was a cute read, but I didn’t expect it to be so…Chicken Soup for the Soul-esque? Everything just felt a bit heightened beyond reality and like it was crafted in a lab with a formula specialized to create the perfect little soap opera, when I’d remembered Wilson’s writing as being slightly more down to earth and nuanced. At some points it did feel a touch on the nose with how miserable Beauty’s life was, and then the ending wrapping everything up in the biggest, shiniest, most perfect bow in world in only two chapters also felt a little ridiculous, but I guess Beauty deserved it after all her hardship. This book was probably aimed at a younger crowd, so I’ll pick up something more teenage from Wilson next time and see how I like it. (Small pet peeve, but the illustrations at the beginning of each chapter basically spoiling what happens next were a little annoying…) (The book also mentioned The Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett, which reminded me that I owned it, so I might reread it sometime in the near future.)

Thursday

I’m feeling pretty good about DunMesh Thursday this week, because I’ve made a chicken wrap thing with assorted salad vegetables and an onion and poppy seed dressing that I’ve been trying out and greatly enjoying. The episode was also fun, it neatly gave Namari a proper introduction and fleshed out the characters’ world a little more, and here again we have the staple scene of people being brought together by food. The themes of ecosystem and co-existence and community are so refreshing to see in an anime.

Friday

This morning I read through Rental Person Who Does Nothing by Shoji Morimoto, an interesting memoir from a guy who I’ve seen go viral on Twitter a few times. It was interesting to read about the unique experiences he’s had through the implementation of this service, and his thoughts on the role of humans in a work-focused society and how humans form relationships with each other were a little thought-provoking, but other than that the book was just a light read.

It’s Drag Race day once again, and I’m both excited and nervous to see yet another sewing challenge – Nymphia excels at it, sure, but I can never be sure if they’re setting her up to fail or not. I said before that sewing challenges are fun because I like seeing the girls interacting and having banter as they work, but this one just felt a bit tense…a lot of people are annoyed at Nymphia, Dawn and Q are gunning for the win, Morphine and Plasma are trying to get by while Plane Jane picks at Plasma, and Mhi’ya and Sapphira have their whole thing going on that also annoys everyone else…it’s just bad vibes. Mhi’ya certainly seems to have come out of her shell in the competition, but I don’t know if I quite like the cocky shittalking girl who’s emerged. It just feels a little silly to be talking down on the other girls when her only strong suit is fighting her way out of the bottom week after week. Runway-wise, there wasn’t anything that really blew me away. Morphine’s makeup was pretty incredible but the dress was just okay, Nymphia’s was gorgeous but you couldn’t even really see what it was, and Q’s jacket was amazing but I hated the styling so much (the painted face but normal body looked so bad, as did the netting and the big blocky black panty – if you’re going for a Victorian doll look, at least commit and paint the whole body/cover up more skin to sell the energy). I was sad to see Plasma go (she really grew on me over the season), but her look being the way that it was and her opponent being Mhi’ya pretty much sealed the deal before the lip-sync even began. I think Plasma’s a phenomenal and confident performer, but her taste level and eye for fashion need some serious work. I could see her as a great competitor on All Stars, but for now we’ll have to bid adieu.

Saturday

The new Undead Unluck episode is so good…we’ve finally returned to that strong sense of atmosphere that I’ve been missing since like episode four. The direction was fantastic, with the scene in the bar being a highlight (the hanging lightbulb swinging and casting its light over them…god…). The sudden mood shift really emphasized the tragic nature of Andy’s existence – it will always be filled with farewells. Fuuko being a constant throughout those months must have been some sort of comfort to him, and seeing them get closer (and seeing a quieter and more vulnerable Andy) really lent credence to their blossoming romance. I hope the next few episodes are also of this quality.

I finished reading The Devil’s Flute Murders by Seishi Yokomizo today, and it was pretty gripping from start to finish. I’d read The Honjin Murders before, and I’ve developed a tradition of reading classic Japanese mysteries while listening to select tracks from the excellent and moody Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu soundtrack (its instrumentation and air of bittersweet regret make for the perfect atmosphere). The Devil’s Flute Murders opened quite strongly, and it was easy to get drawn into this family and its twisted characters as Kindaichi tries to figure out what happened. Yokomizo seems to like operating on dread, often referencing things that are about to happen before they actually do – I dislike this slightly, as I like to be surprised rather than strung along, but it didn’t hamper my enjoyment of the book too much. This mystery was one where I had an inkling of the truth throughout, and I managed to deduce who the culprit was before the end, which was pretty satisfying. And while the actual events ended up being more slapdash and coincidental than they were set up to be, I was glad that it wasn’t as complicated as The Honjin Murders because I can never really get the geography straight in my head. The Devil’s Flute Murders offered compelling character relationships and tantalizing imagery (the flute…fantastic reveal), and for that I can safely say it’s my favourite Kindaichi mystery so far.