#it's also very funny when the author has another character walk up to her and be like “You'll NEVER be the empress of the Roman Empire”

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

Double Babysitter - Hozier x fem! reader

Summary: You and Andrew end up with the tough task of babysitting your friend's child together.

Word Count: 6,325

Author’s Note: hi hi hi!!!! this is my first real fanfic, i’ve written little things here or there but this is the only full fic i’ve written. shoutout to the wonderful @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading this, im so grateful for u! this is based on the Bluey episode Double Babysitter, it's not required watching but if you want to watch it to understand the fic better you can. i hope you enjoy!!!

ALSO: I do not know Hozier in real life, nor do i claim to. This is a fictionalized (ish) version of him. All other characters featured are fictional. Now, enjoy!

fic under the cut <3

Andrew was always vaguely aware of the fact that he was getting older. He had spotted the occasional gray patch in his stubble, noticed a faint wrinkle somewhere on his face. He even felt his back ache every now and again, but he had always brushed it off.

It wasn't until he had been asked by an old friend from college to babysit his daughter that he can say he actually felt old.

Of course, he wasn't complaining. He had met the young girl only a few times, but to say she held a special place in his heart would be an understatement. He had just finished up the last leg of his tour, so he had all the time in the world back at home. And he did owe Liam and Quinn, her parents, a favor. They deserved to have a night out just the two of them; watching their daughter was the least he could do.

He took this responsibility very seriously. He was even on time, arriving at 6pm on the dot, as instructed (given, it was only because he told himself he had to be there at 5:30).

He walked up to their doorstep, gave their door a few light knocks, and stepped back. It took a moment, but he could hear his friend’s voice call for Quinn through the door before watching it unlock. Liam opened the door with a puzzled expression that had Andrew wondering if he somehow showed up on the wrong day.

“Andrew, you're here… on time? Are you feeling okay?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” He replied sarcastically, accompanied by an eye roll. They greeted each other, Liam widened the door, and Andrew stepped inside.

“Honey, the babysitter’s here!” Liam shouted up the staircase. Quinn quickly emerged with open arms and gave Andrew a quick squeeze once she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Andrew! It's great to see you. How long has it been?” She asked.

“About… six months, I’d say. The week before I left for the States.”

“That's much too long. We need to actually go out sometime soon.”

They spent a few minutes standing around and catching up, swapping stories about their jobs (including a concert story or two). It gave Andrew a moment to appreciate these smaller, mundane moments that seemed to slowly be becoming a rarity. He was mid-sentence when he was caught off guard by the pitter-patter of small footsteps rushing towards him.

“Uncle Andy!” He glanced down, finding a little girl already latched on to his leg; Katie, the reason he’d been asked to babysit. He reached down to pat her head, ruffling the little one’s hair.

“Hey there, lass! How are you?”

A muffled noise that sounded something like ‘I’m good’ came from the girl as she buried her face in his leg.

His sentence was cut off at the sound of another knock at the door.

“That's odd. I don't think I’m expecting anyone-” Quinn started, interrupted by Liam opening the door to find you standing on their front step. You didn’t even notice the surprised looks on everyone’s faces as you entered, blindsided by your excitement.

“Hey,” you said, giving Liam a side hug before moving on to Quinn and doing the same. Katie let go of Andrew’s leg and rushed over to you, joyfully screaming your name. A wide grin grew on your face at the sight of her, and Andrew couldn’t help but notice how beautiful your smile was. He immediately snapped himself out of it once he realized he had no idea who you were, let alone what you were even doing here.

“Hi, Katie Cat!” you exclaimed. He watched as you pulled her into an embrace, not noticing his presence until you pulled away. You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his, smile fading in awe.

“Y/N, this is my Uncle Andy,” Katie explained as she held on to your hand, quickly dragging you towards him until there was maybe a foot between you two before pointing upwards. A thought flashed across Andrew’s mind: Is this five-year-old playing matchmaker?

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Have you met my friend Andrew before?” Liam asked.

“You do seem familiar. Didn’t you get drunk and sing Take Me To Church at the wedding?”

“Probably.”

“Oh my god, Y/N, I am so sorry. I think I double-booked myself and accidentally asked both of you to watch Katie,” Quinn admitted. “Again, so sorry. My head’s been all over the place today.”

“It’s alright. He got here first. I’ll just go, then. Leave you to it,” you decided, admittedly a little disappointed but understanding the whole scenario. You took a step back, turning to go before a small hand grabbed yours, stopping you in your tracks.

“Don't go! You can both stay.” Katie begged, puppy dog eyes in full effect. It's like she knew exactly how to tug on your heartstrings, because after that you were willing to stay for as long as she wanted. But you still needed permission.

“I mean, as long as it's okay with… Uncle Andy.”

Andrew gave you a nod, perhaps a bit too quickly. He couldn't tell if it was because he already knew he was going to need help with this, or because he simply wanted to be in your company. Either way, both were true.

“Two babysitters it is.” He conceded.

“Hooray!” She yelled, latching herself onto your leg as she had done to Andrew's just moments before. You looked down at her, a warm smile returning to your face, before looking back up at him. All three of you could tell this was going to be… an interesting night, to say the least.

Before they left, Liam and Quinn had given you two very lenient instructions. All you had to do was put Katie to bed by 8:30 and watch the house until they got home around 10. Everything else was fair game. Easy enough of a job for two grown adults. However, the way that your night started at their kitchen table made you wonder if perhaps their rules were too permissive.

You were sat across from each other, you and Andrew on the same side, Katie on the other. It oddly felt like you were being interrogated by this small child. Which, after offering a game of 20 questions so you could get to know each other better, wasn't exactly far off from reality.

“Why do I feel like she's going to ask me why I was at the scene of the crime?” he asked you in a whisper, leaning towards you. Andrew swore he could feel his heart skip a beat as you chuckled at his remark, and he was relieved as you revealed you felt the same.

“The real question is, is she Good Cop or Bad Cop?” You replied in the same hushed tone.

“Oh, bad cop. I’ve done this with her before, and when she wants to know something she’ll badger you until she gets an answer.”

“Perfect. She can be my lawyer in about twenty years.”

That elicited a laugh out of Andrew, a small chuckle that caught Katie’s attention.

“What's funny?” She asked, genuinely feeling like she missed out on your conversation.

“It's nothing.” You changed the subject to convince her it was inconsequential. “Why don't we get started? Ask us anything,” you instructed, regretting the words as soon as they left your mouth, mostly because of the next words that came out of Katie’s.

“Why don't you have a wife?” She turned to Andrew, whose mouth was now agape. Your own eyes had widened, shocked by the boldness of her first question before remembering she is a little girl that hadn't yet developed a filter.

“You haven't seen me in a while. How do you know I don't?” He retorted, a lazy attempt at deflecting the question.

“Do you have a wife?”

“Well, no…”

“Then why don't you have a wife?”

“Ehm… I think it's her turn.” He tilted his head in your direction. Katie agreed with a nod and thought for a beat. Once she formulated her question, her attention turned to you.

"How many friends do you have?”

“God, I don't know… four? Five?”

“That's not a lot. Why do you only have five friends?”

“Good question… back to him!”

Katie turned.

“How come I don’t see you often?”

“Because usually I’m on tour.”

“Is that why you don’t have a wife?”

“Huh. Maybe.”

“Do you want to get married?”

“Yes,” you both said. You exchanged a glance, surprised you both had the same answer. The girl across the table was oblivious to this small moment you shared, and immediately went back to her questioning.

“Will Tommy be the husband?” Katie leaned across the table, an excited gleam in her eye.

Tommy. Your ex. Last time Katie had seen you, you two were in love, almost madly. However, a lot can happen in four months, and you found yourself having to explain a breakup (a particularly messy one, at that) to this naive girl. You let out a sigh.

“No. Me and Thomas… we aren't really friends anymore”

“But you said he was your true love.”

“Not anymore! Next question. Please.”

“True love is forever. Is true love not forever?”

“It is! It is.”

“Then how come you and Tommy aren't friends?”

“Well, Tommy — Thomas,” you corrected yourself before continuing, your words stunted, “and I weren't as good together as we thought. It took longer than it should've to realize, but we couldn't work. Kind of like when you’re doing a puzzle, and it looks like two pieces fit, but when you try to put them together, they don't.”

It was like you could watch the gears turn in Katie’s little head; she was trying as hard as she could to imagine your comparison. Meanwhile, Andrew was watching you as you thought, mentally praising you for not only putting into words something obviously painful for you, but explaining in terms a kid could understand. Despite the supposed ‘way with words’ he had, he knew it would take him several tries and multiple rough drafts to do the same. He let you continue, his eyes never leaving your face.

“It’s just sometimes, you think someone is your true love, when actually they’re not. Sometimes some things aren't meant to be. And that’s okay. No matter how sad it makes the both of you afterwards, or how upset you get…”

Your sentence trailed off, your throat closing up with that all-too-familiar feeling you recognized immediately. All of this had happened months ago; the breakup between you and Thomas had devastated you of course, but you had recovered. But having to explain the complicated events between you two in such a straightforward way, to put all the emotions you felt into simple terms, made it all seem real. And it only made those feelings resurface.

Andrew could tell something was off. He, of course, had no idea about this past relationship, and frankly, it was none of his business. What was his business, however, was how you looked like you were about to cry, how he could see the tears in your eyes welling up. He wasn't about to let you shed a tear over this. So, he attempted a diversion.

“Alright, I think we're done playing 20 questions. How about a movie?” He stood up, a feigned smile on his face. Your eyes lit up at his suggestion and you stood up after him, following suit.

“You know what? Good idea. Katie, why don’t you go find something to watch with Andrew and I’ll make popcorn, get some snacks ready?”

For a moment you worried she wouldn’t comply and more innocently personal questions would be coming your way. However, Katie didn't seem to mind this interjection, immediately agreeing and hurrying over to the living room to find the TV remote.

You both watched as she scurried away before looking back at each other eyes meeting for the first time that night. A few seconds were spent just staring into his eyes, noticing how very green they were. This captivation distracted you from the awkward silence that filled the air between you. You broke eye contact first, stepping around your chair and pushing it in. You walked into the kitchen, the footsteps you heard behind you letting you know he followed you. You didn't speak until you knew Katie would be out of earshot.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely.

“No problem. I completely get it.”

“Jesus, my first babysitting gig and I almost cried. At this rate, I’ll have to go back to selling lemonade to make ends meet.”

He let out a laugh, and the sight of it made a smile tug at the corner of your lips, though you couldn't shake the feeling you looked a bit… pathetic.

“ You probably think I’m a loser, huh?”

“No! No, absolutely not. Love, breakups, endings … dealing with that stuff isn't easy. If I thought it was, I wouldn't write songs on the matter for a living. Having to explain it to a kid without crushing her dreams is even harder. If anything, I commend you for it.”

For a reason you couldn't immediately explain, his praise actually managed lighten your mood, to the point where you had to suppress the urge to grin from ear to ear.

“What is it?” Andrew asked, as if to tell you your smile hadn't gone unnoticed.

“That was… just really nice of you to say.”

“I mean, it's true.”

The room filled with silence for a moment before you broke it.

“Do you think we could just forget that the whole thing ever happened and get on with the night?”

“Absolutely. It's forgotten,” he agreed, borderline erasing it from his memory as soon as you asked. His attention shifted as he yelled into the other room.

“Katie, have you ever seen The Princess Bride?”

Andrew went off into the living room, following Katie, and a smile grew on your face as you looked through the pantry for microwave popcorn.

It took a solid ten minutes of searching due to the plethora of streaming services Liam and Quinn had, but you finally found The Princess Bride. Katie brought down some blankets from her room in the meantime. Given, because they came from a six-year-old’s bedroom, they were patterned with Disney characters and unicorns, but they were comfortable all the same. You sat on opposite sides of the couch, a bowl of popcorn equidistant between the both of you, and for a reason only her little brain could rationalize, Katie was sitting on the floor.

You looked at the screen in awe like it was your first time watching, when in actuality you’d seen the movie more times than you could count. You mouthed the words of the most famous lines, almost subconsciously, as to not disturb the little one’s first viewing experience. Of course, you also snuck a few glances at Andrew when the screen held less of your attention. Okay, maybe more than a few glances. It was the first time that night you both could actually relax, and you took the moment to size him up. His hair, which was up in a man-bun at the beginning of the night, had since been let down, brown curls now loosely framing his face. He wore a white sweatshirt and black jeans. On his feet were white Converse that were clearly well-loved, to say the least. Despite how casual it all was, he really pulled it off. It almost made you wish you could raid his closet, see what other unexpectedly stylish clothes he had in his possession, maybe steal a sweater on the way out.

Oddly enough, it felt natural, being this comfortable on opposite sides of the couch with a man that might as well be a stranger. It’s almost like you wouldn’t mind if this was your house, your television, your kid-

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the clapping you heard from Katie’s spot on the floor as the credits rolled.

“So what did you think?” Andrew asked. Katie’s gaze broke from the screen to look at him.

“I wanna watch it again!”

“You can watch it again another time with mum and dad.”

“I want to watch it now!”

“Katie, the movie’s over, and it's 8 at night. Get upstairs, put on your pajamas, and brush your teeth.” He scolded as he got up from his spot on the couch. He bent down, resting his hands on his knees.

“I said I wanna watch it again!”

“It's getting late, you have to get ready for-”

“Again! Again! Again!” She stomped. You knew she was bound to have a tantrum any second now. Something that, judging by the concerned on his face, Andrew had no idea how to handle. It seemed like it was your turn to come to the rescue.

You got up from your seat, walking over to Andrew to stand by his side (figuratively and literally).

“Could you help me out here?” He asked, his frustration with her slowly growing.

“Watch and learn.”

You turned to Katie and crouched down to be on her level.

“Do you want to play a game?”

She didn't give a verbal answer, but based on her frown immediately disappearing and her head nodding so rapidly you thought it might fall off, you could assume what she would say. You thought for a moment before continuing.

“All you have to do to play is go upstairs and do everything you would usually do right before you go to bed. I’m going to set a timer, and if you’ve done everything and you're in bed before the timer, you win. Got the rules?”

“Yep!” She squeaked, her excitement evident.

“Alright. Ready… set… go!”

She quickly ran out of the living room and up the stairs, leaving the two of you left stunned for a moment. You both got up from your crouching, and you craned your neck upward to be met with, to your surprise, a look of amazement from Andrew.

“I swear, you must be magic.”

You deflected his praise almost immediately.

“Please, I’m not even close to being magic. I just know that kids will do anything if you turn it into a game.”

“Which is a level of sorcery that I can only wish to achieve!”

“If we end up babysitting again, you can always become my apprentice.”

“Offering a second date already?”

You knew he was teasing, but the romantic suggestion was enough to make your heart pound in your chest. You responded the only way you knew how.

“Shut up…”

You bantered and talked, taking advantage of the very little time you had to try and get to know each other (past the deep secrets you already knew from Katie’s questions). Your conversation immediately felt as if you knew each other for years, not hours. There was almost a click to it; the back and forth between the two of you happened easily, naturally. But, like all things, it couldn't last forever. After about ten minutes, a small voice yelled from up the stairs:

“I’m done!”

“We’ve been summoned.” Andrew stated.

He started walking towards the staircase, and nodded his head to tell you to come along. You caught up to him with no hesitation.

Andrew opened the door to Katie’s room and took a look around. It was as messy as one expects a five-year-old’s bedroom to be. Toys, anything from fake jewelry to Barbies, were scattered across the floor. Her drawings, mostly scribbles of rainbows and cartoons and her family, hung on her wall. Stuffed animals and fuzzy blankets were contained in a chest in the foot of her bed. After a moment, he held the door wider, giving you room to walk inside. You thanked him and walked over to the side of Katie's bed. A bit unsure of what to do, Andrew stood behind you as you talked to Katie.

“Hey, you tricked me!”

“Yeah, I did. But now that you're all ready for bed and tucked in, aren't you tired?”

“I guess,” she started, a yawn interrupting her thought, “I am.”

“Then it's time for you to go to bed. Good night Katie Cat.”

You leaned in to place a kiss on her forehead before Katie let out a yelp.

“Wait! I can’t go to bed yet. I need a story.” She whined. “Mum and dad tell me a story every night before bed. I can't sleep without it.”

“What do you want it to be about?”

“Can it be about a princess? Like the movie?”

“Sure. Well, there was-”

“It needs to start with ‘once upon a time’.”

“Does it really have to?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then,” you conceded, knowing as much as you wanted to protest, she wouldn't let it go.“Once upon a time, there was a princess… that was trapped in a tower… guarded by a dragon.”

“Wow, that’s never been done before,” you heard him whisper behind you. You looked over your shoulder and shot him a small look of disapproval.

“Well, to her it's original. Just go with it,” you chided before continuing.

“As I was saying, there was a princess trapped in a tower. And there was a prince,” you turned behind you again, mouthing ‘that's you’ to the man behind you, “that was trying to rescue her.”

“Can I be the dragon?” Katie asked eagerly.

“Whatever you want, dear.” You replied, giving her approval. Katie let out a roar and, shockingly, Andrew got into character, already miming holding a sword and shield.

“Hello, Ms. Dragon. Listen, I have to slay you. I’m not happy about it either. It's the only way to save the princess.”

He gave you a quick glance, one you would've missed if you had blinked in the wrong moment. He returned his focus to ‘the dragon’.

“I usually am a pacifist, so I truly hate to do this, but I must…”

He faked a lunge towards her and began to tickle her, making both of them double over in laughter. You attempted to engrave the memory into your mind in fear that you would never experience a moment as heartwarming as this one again. He gave up after thirty seconds, standing up again.

“And just like that, the dragon was defeated!” You announced.

“Now the princess needs to marry the prince!” Katie yelled, almost commanded.

“What?” Andrew asked, more confused than opposed. Katie only gave him a disapproving look, which was enough to make him comply.

He knelt down on one knee and scoured the ground for something that had caught his eye before: a toy ring. He snatched it off her messy floor and held it towards you in an extended hand.

“Princess, I have rescued you from the dragon. Now, should you say yes, I would like to have you as my wife.”

This wasn't necessarily the most romantic moment of your life, but for some reason, it definitely made the list. A fact that was a bit pitiful, sure, but still very true. Which was exactly why you- technically, the princess- needed to take the story in an alternate direction. It was a personal way to protect your ego.

“And the princess said… no thanks.” Surely that would save your self-esteem from his imaginary judgment. To your surprise, it did the opposite. His brows furrowed in confusion, and his smile dropped.

“What? Why wouldn't the princess want to marry the prince?” He asked, trying to give you a look as if to tell you to just go with it. You, of course, got the message, but decided to lean more into your own narrative.

“She didn’t like the look of him.” Lie. But one that kept the girl entertained, her laughs growing louder.

“Why not?” Andrew couldn’t help but feel just a little offended, even though he knew everything you were saying was intended lightheartedly, the real purpose being to entertain the girl.

“Well, he was a bit lanky, for starts.”

“That’s not exactly something the prince can control. You have to cut him some slack there.”

“And his hair was better than hers! It was beautiful. All long and curly and fluffy. The princess simply wasn’t having it.”

“Wait, you think my hair is-.”

“And to top it all off, he was tall! Very tall. She’d have to go on her tiptoes just to kiss him, which, honestly Katie, gets very inconvenient.”

Andrew was about to counter, the words on the tip of his tongue, but stopped himself upon hearing the fits of giggles escaping Katie. He decided to let the moment be, taking in both your and Katie’s smiles from this new perspective.

You turned, your face showing your feigned contemplation. For a brief moment, you enjoyed the fact this might be the only time you'll be taller than him. A sigh escaped your lips and your eyes rolled, but you couldn't hide the smile on your face.

“I guess the princess could try and give the prince a chance.”

He looked back up at you, giving you a sheepish grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He took your hand and carefully placed the ring on your finger, as gentle as he would be if it was made of diamond and not plastic. His calloused fingers wrapped around your hand, undoubtedly hardened by all the guitar he’d played over the years. The feeling of his hands on yours, him looking up at you, the way his eyes were staring into yours with such admiration, it all almost felt like a real proposal. Not one that came after slaying a dragon, but after years of knowing and loving each other. One that came before celebratory kisses and preparing for a wedding. One that made your heart stir and your mind wander, only stopped when you heard him mutter something.

“You kinda have to finish the story.”

Right. The story. His words snapped you out of your deep thought, and you blinked a few times as you focused back on reality and not what you’d made up in your head about the man you'd only known for about two hours. The gorgeous, tall, kind, funny man you had only known for two hours. You cleared your throat.

“So, the princess finally said yes to him. And then they got married and they all lived happily ever after!”

You took a bow, as if you had just finished up a broadway worthy performance. Andrew, however, stayed in his spot on the floor still kneeling, something you only noticed when you looked up to smile at him to find empty space where you expected his head to be. You looked down at him and whispered.

“You can get up now, you know.”

“Oh. Right.”

He got up and did his own small bow before making an announcement.

“Alright, story’s over. Time to go to sleep.”

Though she had enjoyed it, by the end of your story (performance?) Katie's eyes were already drooping, so she had no more hostility towards going to bed. You walked over and stood on the left side of her bed, Andrew on the right.

“Goodnight, Katie-Cat. Sweet dreams.” You said softly before placing a small kiss on her forehead. He quickly did the same, placing a kiss on her forehead as well.

“Goodnight, Katie. Sleep well.”

He paused for a moment before adding on something you hadn't expected.

“I love you.”

As if your heart couldn't melt any more.

“Love you too, Uncle Andy.” She mumbled before making herself comfortable, snuggling up under her blanket; it was almost a signal for you to leave the room. You both obeyed, walking towards her door frame. You flipped the light switch, leaving the room in darkness, and closed her door behind you both.

You hated to admit it, but a smile grew on both of your faces.

Unsure of how to celebrate (a handshake was too formal, a high-five was too loud), after an awkward rotation of gestures, you settled on a fist bump.

Does fist-bumping a man ten minutes after calling his hair beautiful count as mixed signals?

“We did it!” You whisper-shouted after your small celebration. Andrew's tone mirrored yours as he spoke.

“Jesus, is this what being a parent feels like?”

“I hope not. No offense to you, but I’m miserable.”

“Oh no, the pounding headache’s got to you too?”

“That and the back pain from all the crouching over.”

“At times I could feel my hair turning gray.”

“What I’m hearing is that you could also go for a cup of tea right about now.”

“That's exactly correct. However, this isn't our house, which means it's not our place to make tea.”

“It can be if you give me two minutes.”

You shot Quinn a quick text to ask.

hey. is it alright if me and andrew make some tea? I know you said we could do whatever but i feel bad if you're not home.

It took a minute, but Quinn replied.

i trust you both so much i’d let you cook a three-course meal without me home. go ahead and brew your tea.

“Well, we’ve got Quinn’s approval.”

You showed him the text, and he let out a soft chuckle, nodding. You both headed down the stairs as quickly (and quietly) as possible.

You returned to the kitchen and began to look for teabags while Andrew looked for a kettle. You didn’t dare to make a mess, so you both just closed and opened drawers until you found exactly what you needed. He filled the kettle and placed it on the stove while you made the hard decision between chamomile and earl grey; you immediately made your decision when he made a comment about chamomile being his favorite.

You leaned on opposite sides of the counter, the stove between the two of you. After a minute you fell into a silence that was comfortable, but unwanted. It was the first time that night you had the freedom of being alone now that Katie was fast asleep, yet you had no idea what to do with yourselves. Biting at your lower lip, you thought of something to say.

“Hey, we did a pretty good job being her court jesters for the night.” You finally commented. Andrew nodded his head before jokingly correcting your statement.

“More accurately, we did a good job being her prince and princess.”

“Almost made me think I should’ve pursued a career in acting.”

“You have to give some credit to your co-star here, as well.”

“Oh, absolutely. Oscar-winning performance. I appreciate you incorporating props, as well.”

“One of the greatest improv moments of my career.”

“I had no idea I was in the presence of such a legend. ” You said barely, being able to hold back your laughter. Your conversation fell back into a now-familiar rhythm. The topics started anywhere from how you knew Quinn to how much you both loved Katie, but as you went on you diverted to your favorite movies snd Andrew’s interest in classical literature. The only interruption was the whistle of the kettle, which you had almost forgotten about. Andrew took it upon himself to prepare the tea, even after you insisted that you would take over. Instead, you actually took in the kitchen, finding something unexpected on the counter.

You were both surprised that Liam and Quinn actually owned a radio.

“Do you mind if I put on some music?” He asked.

“Not at all.” You stepped to the side, giving him permission to turn the radio on.

He twisted the knob of the radio, searching for a station for a moment before stopping. He landed on a station playing jazz, turning up the volume as he recognized the tune: A Kiss To Build A Dream On by Louis Armstrong. Instinctively, he tapped his foot to the beat.

You both stood in silence, one that almost drowned out the song playing. This silence was just strong enough for you to formulate an idea. You liked this song, you were bored, and most importantly, you wanted to be close to him. So you decided to take a risk. You extended a hand in his direction.

“Care for a dance?”

It took him a moment to process your question out of shock. After a few seconds, he stuttered out his answer, his gaze shifting to your hand.

“I- No, I couldn't. I have two left feet. I’d probably be… stepping on your toes the entire time.”

You shrugged.

“Who cares? It's just us, and I’m not gonna judge you.” You reassured him, motioning for him to join you.

Andrew was quickly learning he couldn't say no to you.

He gave in, taking one of your hands in his and placing the other one on your waist. At first, you awkwardly kept your distance between each other, like two teens during a slow song at their school dance. However, you got more into a rhythm as time went on, eventually getting comfortable enough with him to rest your head on his chest, as close as you could get to his shoulder with his height. Andrew was hoping you were more focused on dancing so you couldn’t feel his heart beat out of his chest. He kept his promise of stepping on your toes, mumbling a “Sorry!” every time he did so. He wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be. He even tried to spin you by the second chorus, almost crashing you into him, but helping you regain your balance. Laughter was your only response to any of this.

Much to the dismay of you both, the song ended, and you pulled away from each other. You missed his touch, your hand buzzing from the sudden change. Another song began to play from the radio: I’m In The Mood For Love by Julie London. Christ, it was like the universe was sending you a sign. Everything else throughout the night had all led up to this.

You could barely process what was happening when Andrew placed his lips on yours.

The kiss was small and chaste, cautious in case you didn't reciprocate. It was so sudden that you forgot to kiss him back, just absorbing the moment that you had slowly been longing for more and more throughout the night. When he pulled away, all he saw was the astonishment and shock on your face. He didn't notice how your gaze was fixated on his lips, and instead frantically began to apologize.

“Shit, I misread you, didn't I? I’m so sorry, I apologize. You have every reason to be upset with me.”

His suggestion made you laugh.

“Are you kidding me? That's all I've wanted all night.”

You saw something change in his demeanor, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“It's alright if I kiss you again, then?”

“Yes! Yes. Please do.”

As soon as you gave him permission, he placed his hands on the sides of your face and pulled you close to him.

Another thing about the universe is that not only does it send signs, it tends to have impeccable timing; just as Andrew leaned in to kiss you again, you heard the front door unlock. Quinn’s voice rang through the hallway.

“Hey, I don't know if you got my text, but there wasn't that much traffic so we got home… Oh. I see we're interrupting something."

You both let go of each other, a look of guilt like you’d been caught doing something illegal. Thankfully, Quinn was no cop.

“I’m not mad or anything. Just happy you waited until Katie was asleep to start swapping spit.”

You both thanked her, ignoring a passing comment she made about how she “always did think you’d be good for each other”. You said your goodbyes, hugging Liam and Quinn with smiles and faces that were still flushed from earlier. You waved them a final goodbye and walked out onto the patio together, Andrew holding the door for you again. You were alone together again.

“So, do you think we could pick up from where we left off before?” You asked a mischievous glint in your eye.

“I thought you'd never ask.”

He finally leaned down to kiss you again, holding your face gently. This time, you reciprocated, placing your hand on the nape of his neck to keep him as close as possible. It was slow, as if both of you decided to take your time; a gentle precursor for all the kisses to come in the future. Your hands made their way into his hair, his making their way to your waist. You stay like that for what could have been forever for all that you care, but's only a minute.You both pulled away to get some air, small pants escaping your mouths. Andrew looked down at you with wonder, a smile growing on his face.

“You really are magic.” He mumbled.

“Still not magic. Just… me.” You deflected again.

“Is there a difference?” He asked rhetorically. He let out a sigh before speaking again.

“ Y/N… God, I feel like a teenager saying this, but… would you want to go on a date sometime? A proper one, with no babysitting or playing pretend. Just me and you and staring at a painting or a sunset or each other's faces.” He rambled, taking a deep breath. “Whatever you want.”

Letting out a laugh, you replied.

“I would love to.”

You gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Good night, Andrew."

“Good night, Y/N.”

Andrew gave you one last peck on the lips before you, unfortunately, went your separate ways for the night. Walking back to your car, you also couldn’t help but feel like a teenager, but because he made you so… giddy, so willing to start something new with him. You could barely keep down the butterflies in your stomach. All of this caused by coincidence, a bit of fate, and a babysitting gig. Not how you thought the night was going to go, but perhaps the most pleasant surprise you’d ever had.

You got into your car, and tuned the radio to the same station as before. All the songs remind you of him.

You had the stupidest smile on your face the entire drive home.

[smol-blue-bird]

They also lean way too heavily on the foreshadowing, which is funny because these books obviously end in a foregone conclusion. If you're picking up a book on the empress Theodora, you are fully aware that she's going to marry into royalty by the end. There's no need for the authors to lay it on ridiculously thick. But every Theodora Novel has at least one scene where Theodora is like "You know what would be fantastic? If I lived in the palace and wore purple every day. In fact, I feel in my bones that this will happen to me. I am fully convinced that this future will come to pass. Actually, nevermind haha, I'm just being silly... unless..."

Another hilarious thing Theodora Novels always do is include at least one scene in which all of the relevant female characters (usually Theodora, her sisters, Antonina, etc) loudly and publicly discuss birth control options, abortions, pregnancy, and the general stigma surrounding stage acting. And, like, I know why they do this—the author always want to establish very early on that 1.) effective birth control does not exist in this setting, 2.) abortions and childbirth are scary and dangerous, and 3.) "acting" is seen as disreputable, and these characters are not glamourized Hollywood starlets. But it always sounds incredibly stilted and bizarre, because these characters are always just swapping information they already know with other women in the same boat. They always walk up to each other like "Hi, person who is my friend and who will marry Belisarius in the future! Did you know that acting is stereotypically associated with sex work in the Byzantine Empire, the society in which we live?" And Antonina will just smile placidly and reply with "Gee, I sure wish there was a contaceptive pill or an IntraUterine Device we could use to prevent unwanted pregnancies, but unfortunately, that technology does not yet exist in the sixth century AD." And the author will just breeze past this like this is a normal conversation for these characters to have

[cloudcountry]

breaking the mold

Genre/Tropes: Mutual Pining if you squint very hard.

Summary: Vil has always been cast as the villain. With a new writer working with his club, he learns that not every director will see him that way.

Author's Comments: I wrote something similar to this for another character that was normally portrayed as a villain (2p!America cough cough) so it was kinda funny writing something like this again but I really enjoyed it!! Also, in Epel's SSR vignettes this club apparently doesn't have auditions? Vil just picks someone and is like "you're good" so I put Reader in that same role.

~~~~~

“For our next play, I’ve opted to let our newest member write it. They’ve proven themselves efficient at directing the stage crew and have shown me various samples of their writing.” Vil announced, locking eyes with you from in front of the small crowd of club members, “Come to the front, director!”

Murmurs swept through the crowd as you jumped up, rushing towards his side with a huge smile on your face. Vil looked upon your smiling face with pride, confident that he’d made the right choice. It only made you more motivated to please him.

“A new member? Writing for us?” someone muttered from the group, “That’s unheard of.”

“You must push boundaries to progress.” Vil responded, “I’ve made my choice. I only hope the rest of you are willing to give them a chance.”

“I won’t let you down!” you proclaimed, standing even straighter in hopes that the club would accept you.

“Let’s try it out. What’s the worst that could happen?” someone else said, “Besides, Vil will still be overseeing everything, Nothing will go wrong!”

Another murmur swept through the crowd as people started to nod. Vil turned to you with a small nod, and you knew exactly what he was trying to say.

They don’t believe you can do it by yourself. Prove them wrong.

👑

The next day, Vil walked into the small room the club had set aside for you. The table was cluttered with papers and pencils, and in the middle of it was you, writing down one last note before you looked up at him and beamed.

“So, how’s the cast list coming along?” he asked, trying to make sense of the messy writing scrawled over the papers nearest to him.

“I’m so glad you asked! I’m planning on casting you as the main character, of course.” you hummed, pouring over the script on the table, “I want to start off my first play with a bang, but you’re also the safest option because of your experience.”

Vil watched you work, scribbling down notes for the plot and little details you wanted added to the set. The passion and personalization you were giving to this production was admirable. Vil often had to remind his fellow club members to do exactly what you were doing when directing productions and designing sets. All of the actors and crew should be represented in their own special ways when on stage.

“Just so you know, I refuse to play a villain role. If you opted to play me in that role, perish the thought. I refuse.” he declared, pulling out the chair opposite of you and sitting down.

He was prepared for a barrage of complaints and reassurance. He was prepared for ‘but you’d do so well!’ and ‘it’s a great opportunity!’ and ‘what do you mean? Do it for the play!’ His agent’s voice echoed in his ears as he waited for your response, and he shook her away.

“Don’t worry, you’re not the villain. Not every hero is warm and soft, you know?” you laughed, shaking your head, “Heroes can be cool and tough too. If I wanted to write something with a wimpy hero I wouldn’t be casting you in the first place.”

You passed him the list of characters from across the table, pointing to the bright HERO title with stars doodled around it. His name was written in your all too familiar handwriting, a little smile stretching across the bottom of his name that used the two i’s as eyes.

“If this is your verdict, I’ll respect it.” he nodded, passing back to list.

“Oh, but you wouldn’t have if you were the villain?’ you snorted playfully, “I’m just kidding. I’m not here to write something cliche and stupid. I’m here to explore a side to heroes that the productions we’ve seen so far don’t want us to see.”

“Elaborate.” he said, lacing his fingers together on top of the table.

“All of the productions I’ve seen in Twisted Wonderland portray heroes as happy and soft and sweet. But heroes need to be smart and strong and resilient, you know? I don’t understand why people think those attributes are more villain-like. It’s like they want their heroes to be joyful and handsome instead of genuinely strong.” you met his gaze and beamed, “Not that you aren’t handsome. Obviously. You know how good looking you are.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Vil rolled his eyes, gesturing for you to continue.

“Right, right. I’ll keep talking, Your Highness.” you snickered, scribbling a few more notes down on the character page, “I actually cast Rook as the villain this time around. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to share the stage with you. Also, doesn’t he have that dramatic villain vibe about him? I figured he’d be able to play the tyrannical king role pretty well.”

“You’re definitely right about that.” Vil nodded, lifting up the set design from your pile of papers, “Is there a particular reason why you chose the mirror to be here, in the corner?”

“Ooooh, I’m so glad you asked!” you nearly leapt across the table to look at the diagram with him, your hand resting on his arm for support, “You see, the tyrannical king ends up trapped in the mirror at the end of the play. I wanted to pay homage to the Evil Queen and her magic mirror while also giving the impression that the king’s punishment is a result of finally being cornered. He spends so much of the play in the middle of the stage, but once the hero and his allies find him he gets backed into that corner with no escape! He’s hidden away from the audience’s view and then the lights go out and boom! He’s trapped in the mirror for all eternity!”

“It’s very hard to come up with an original story, so I don’t blame you for referencing the Evil Queen.” Vil hummed thoughtfully, “However, are you sure the mirror design is your best work? If it’s truly a symbol to pay homage to the Evil Queen, will the audience get that message from this design?”

He handed the design back to you, watching as you poured over it. Your pursed lips slowly lifted into a smile as you jolted back into your chair, scribbling away at the paper once again.

“I got it now! This next one will be the one that knocks your socks off!” you proclaimed, waggling your pencil at him.

“I look forward to it.” he chuckled, leaning over to pat your head before leaving the room with a swish of his cloak.

You shot up in your chair, brushing a hand over where he had touched your hair. He really did know exactly how to motivate people, didn’t he?

👑

“Why did you cast Vil as the hero?” Epel asked, tilting his head as he read through the cast list.

“He’d be a lovely hero. That’s why.” you replied, waiting for the rest of the cast and crew to read over the list.

“That’s…an odd choice.” someone else piped up, “I mean, Vil is more suited to be a villain, you know?”

The group mumbled in agreement, nodding their heads. You furrowed your brow, holding back the twinge of annoyance in your chest.

“Do you want to have a play with a hero that’s soft and gentle? Or do you want a hero that’s tough and reliable? Do you want someone who only focuses on the princess, or a hero that rallies people together? Do you want a hero that nobody cares much about because they’re so vapid and uninteresting, or do you want a hero that everyone will remember because he’s the one that sent chills down their spine?!” you narrowed your eyes as the club listened, allowing you to explain yourself, “Vil is perfect for a hero role. It’s a disgrace that nobody has cast him in that role before.”

The room was silent for a moment before Epel sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

“If that’s what our director thinks, then I agree. They’re pretty convincing too, when they want to be.”

“Thank you, Epel.” your gaze softened as you relaxed, making sure to make eye contact with as many people as you could, “I’m willing to hear your input on this, but I’m not going to put Vil in a role that I think would be ill-suited for him.”

“I think Rook as the villain is a good casting choice.” Someone offered, “We’ve never seen him in a role like that before, but seeing you make that decision has made me curious.”

“Yeah! I know he’s in the science club, but there’s no way he’d pass up a chance to perform with Vil.” you nodded enthusiastically.

“He has no qualms about getting people not in his club to participate.” Epel mumbled, “I miss Spelldrive practice for one of his plays once…if I missed the play he would’ve killed me.”

“You were our main role, Epel. Our leading star. The play would have been ruined if you didn’t show up.” Vil replied, stepping into the room with grandeur.

“Housewarden!” Epel yelped, “How long were you there?”

“Don’t yell. I’ve been here the whole time.” his eyes flickered to yours, gratitude in his eyes, “I heard your discussion about the roles. I’m glad we’re all in agreement.”

“I’ll run them by Rook later.” you shot up out of your seat, gathering your papers quickly, “I still have to finalize that mirror design, and then I’ll show you that too. Let me know what you think!”

“Wait.” he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, eyes only for you as everyone else filed out, “I want you to stay back for a moment.”

“Hmm? What for?” you asked.

“I want to talk to you. That’s all. Do I need a reason?” he replied, a challenge clear in his tone.

“Of course not, handsome.” you laughed, sitting back down, “What did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to show you my gratitude.” he began, sitting in the chair beside you, “You have been the only person that has bothered to take my thoughts into consideration. It’s such a simple thing, but since you are the first to show me such thoughtfulness, I feel the need to let you know the impression you’ve made on me.”

“It’s no big deal at all! I just did what I thought would fit you best.” you stumbled over your words, face warming at the praise.

Since when did Vil praise you for silly things like that?!

Amused by your reaction, he laughed. How was one man so pretty? His hair fell into his eyes before he brushed it away, meeting your gaze again. You swallowed thickly, nerves twisting in your stomach.

“I trust you will do your best.” he said, hands clasped in his lap, “I believe in you.”

With that said, he left, leaving your mouth hanging open in shock.

If Vil Schoenheit wanted you to focus, he’d need to stop praising you like that.

👑

The day of the play was fast approaching as you watched over the rehearsals. The costumes had come together a while ago and the set had been built completely. The paint crew was still touching up on little details of the castle and mirror, each golden swirl and apple motif painted with extra care. Some of the club members that had worked on the set even picked up a paintbrush for the production. It warmed your heart to see everyone try so hard for the sake of you and your production. Even Epel came in to work hard when he didn’t have Spelldrive practice, his painted apples shining more radiantly than anyone else’s. Before you knew it, the show was being performed for any NRC students that wanted to attend. You extended personal invitations to all of your friends, making sure Malleus in particular had the date memorized so he could see your vision come to life. Cater had spammed his Magicam feed with promotional posters for the show, and Vil had also done some advertising to a lesser extent. The nerves were starting to settle in as you watched the people file into the theater, the low rumbling of conversation making your stomach do flips. Pacing around, you took deep breaths as your heart pounded. Today was the day of your debut as a director for Vil Schoenheit and the entire Film research Club. You only hoped you could do him and the rest of his club justice.

“You’re up.” Vil said from behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder, “I know you’re nervous, but you’re ready for this. I would not let you walk out on that stage if I didn’t think you were one hundred percent ready.”

“Thank you, Vil.” you smiled, hands shaking as they took the mic from the nearby stand, “I’ll…I’ll go break a leg out there.”

His eyes shone with affection as he offered you a smile, gently pushing you into the bright lights of the stage.

You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the new lighting, a chorus of cheers and whoops erupting from the crowd. Your stomach twisted itself into an even bigger knot as the darkened blurs wriggled and twitched with movement, but you reminded yourself of Vil’s words and breathed deeply.

“Thank you all for coming out tonight!” you said, putting the biggest smile you could on your face.

The sentiment was met with another round of applause and a loud yell of “THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND,” which you could only assume came from Ace.

“Thank you, thank you! Um…” you clutched the microphone tightly as the applause died down, taking in another deep breath, “This is my first time producing a play with the film research club. Being a director has been hectic, but it has also been very rewarding. As you all know, I got to work with the amazing Vil Schoenheit on this project-”

An even bigger applause erupted from the crowd at the mention of his name, to which you responded by looking backstage for him. He was standing just behind the curtain, a smile on his face as he listened.

“I know, I adore him too. He spent hours and hours with me, pushing me to do my best on set design and costumes and storytelling. He wanted me to make this play personal, and because of that, there are bits of him in the story, too.” you stopped to take a breath, the audience silent as you continued, “Thank you all for coming out tonight to support the work we do. Without further ado, I present to you, Poison’s Heir!”

The audience burst into applause again as you rushed off stage, waving to everyone that had come to watch your show.

“You did so well.” Vil whispered as the lights dimmed, “Now go take a breather. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Break a leg.” you whispered back, beaming at him.

👑

The second the auditorium doors were opened after everyone had taken their final bow, you were jumped on by Ace, Deuce, and Grim. A strangled yelp escaped your throat as you begged them to let you go, but they refused.

“You never told me you wrote in your spare time!” Ace yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “I can’t believe you wrote something like that and didn’t tell us! What is wrong with you?!”

“It was really good, Prefect.” Deuce said, looking at you with stars in his eyes, “I’m so impressed, it must have taken so much work to build everything.”

“That’s why you kept sneaking off! That’s why you had all those late nights! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Grim grabbed your leg and shook it vigorously.

“I wanted it to be a surprise!” you yelped, shaking them off, “I’m surprised you guys even came!”

“Of course we did! You always come to my basketball games and I know you go to Deuce’s track meets too! Don’t act like it’s a burden for us to show up!” Ace crossed his arms over his chest and glared, pouting like a child.

“Hello, Child of Man.” Malleus interrupted, appearing behind you unexpectedly, “That was a lovely production.”

“Hornton!” you jumped, placing a hand over your heart, “You scared me! Don’t just teleport behind people like that!”

“But I didn’t.” he mumbled, a confused look on his face, “I just walked up to you.”

“Ah. My bad. I was occupied.” you sighed, smiling at him, “I’m glad you liked it!”

“I brought you this.” he hummed, presenting you with a bundle of orange roses, “I was told by Lilia that directors and cast members of plays often receive flowers after a play as a show of appreciation. He stressed that I should not give them to you before the play, since I would be bestowing bad luck upon you.”

“Dude, we so got one upped!” Ace quipped, but you ignored him.

“Aww, thank you so much.” you gasped, gratefully accepting the flowers from his arms, “They’re beautiful. I’ll be sure to treasure them for as long as they live.”

“Don’t worry, Child of Man. I’ve enchanted them so that they will not die.” he smirked, “You don't even have to water them. Those flowers will remain stationary, halted in time, just like the memory of your first production in my mind.”

You almost cried with how moved you were, but settled for giving him a huge hug. He returned it, holding your gently before he gave you a final smile and moved on.

The next person to throw themselves on you was none other than Cater.

“Hon!” Cater screeched, throwing his arms around you dramatically, “Oh, that was a gorgeous production! I wish I could have recorded it!”

“Thank you so much!” you laughed, wrapping your free arm around him to hug him back.

“Would you mind taking a picture with me? I’d absolutely love a photo of the director themself!” he begged, hands itching to grab his phone and take as many pictures as possible.

“Of course you can.” you pulled away, putting on another one of your director smiles.

Cater whipped out his phone and took a bunch of quick pictures, trying out a few different angles. You felt your crowd pleasing smile grow into a genuine one as your face warmed, feeling all the love all of your friends were sending to you.

“You don’t mind if I post these to Magicam, right?” he asked.

“You ask every time Cater. My answer is always no. I don’t mind at all!” you laughed, thankful he’d go through the effort of checking every time.

“I just want to be sure! I’ll send you the ones I want to post just so you can go through them.” he said, pulling you in for one last hug, “Great job, hon. I’m so proud of you.”

The crowds slowly died down as time went on, and the club was finally allowed the step back into the auditorium. That’s where you found Vil, standing by the doorway in his costume.

“I was waiting for you.” he said, hooking his arm through yours and pulling you away from the group, “Come with me.”

You allowed him to lead you outside into the cool night air. He sat down on a nearby bench and gestured for you to do the same.

“So how many flowers did you get?” you asked, still clutching the orange roses to your chest.

“I received many flowers from adoring fans.” he said matter of factly, “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“What is it?” you asked, scooting closer.

“Magicam. The production is blowing up.” he murmured, unlocking his phone and pulling up his Magicam feed.

You watched as he scrolled through post after post of happy, celebratory photos, all tagged with #Poison’sHeir. Your heart warmed at the display and the fact that Vil had taken the time to show it to you.

“I dare say your first show was a success. I’m looking forward to the next one you direct.” he chuckled, expression soft and caring, “I’d love to work with you again.”

Pride welled up in your chest at his words, the knowledge that this would not be your last show and that you’d impressed him enough to earn his praise forcing a wobbly smile to bloom across your face.

“Wait…Vil, is that Neige?” you gasped, the laughter catching in your throat as the moment was shattered.

His nose wrinkled in displeasure as he rapidly scrolled away from the post.

“Don’t pay attention to him-”

“Noooo, Vil! I wanted to see his post!”

“Stop trying to take my phone-!”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Safe In Your Dreams

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: angst, major character death, fluff

Summary: You don't know what you have until it's not there anymore.

Square Filled: drowning in their sorrows for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“Come on, if we hurry, we might make it before the trailers are over,” you giggle.

“Are you sure we should be doing this? I have money.”

“And give it to those corporate assholes? You know barely any of the money goes to the theaters. They all go to the production company that makes the movies. I’ve done this once or twice. They don’t care if you sneak in. All they care about are their popcorn and food sales. That’s why they’re priced so high. That’s how they make their money.”

Spencer looks unsure about sneaking into a theater, and you yank open the back door with a smile.

“We’re gonna get caught.”

“Sure, with that attitude. Just tilt your chin up and pretend like you know where you’re going. Works every time.” Still, the unsure look doesn’t leave Spencer’s face. “If it really means that much to you, we can do it the normal way and go through the front.”

Spencer might be part of the FBI but who doesn't indulge in a little rebellious act every once in a while? Spencer takes your hand with a smile and steps toward you.

“Lead the way.”

“I knew you were a bit of a bad boy,” you joke and lead him inside the theater.

You lead Spencer inside the movie theater and away from anyone who might kick you out. There is a movie showing you’ve been wanting to see and happened to drag your boyfriend along with you for the ride. There is popcorn in your bag that you popped yourself so you don’t have to buy the theater’s popcorn.

You two walk into the theater you want and head to the very back so as not to bother anyone else. It’s a cheesy horror movie that has you laughing rather than screaming. Spencer isn’t a huge fan of horror but loves movies like these because it’s something you love to do.

Another thing you love to do with Spencer that he also enjoys is playing min-golf. You two clearly don’t know what you’re doing but it doesn’t matter because you’re having fun.

“Spencer, I think you’re doing it wrong,” you giggle.

He holds the golf club at an angle and hits the ball but it goes nowhere near the hole. It bounces off several walls and goes back to where he started.

“I suck at this game,” he smiles.

“Let me show you how it’s done.”

You walk to the front and set your ball down. You look at the hole on the other end of the course and bring your club back only to hit it super hard. The ball not only goes flying, it flies right into the set instead of on the grass. This course is a pirate’s theme so there are wooden pirates everywhere, and the ball nearly takes off one of their heads.

The couple behind you stares at you in judgment for acting like children. You two are giggling like school girls, but the couple doesn’t think it’s funny.

“Maybe you should play the right way,” the woman says.

“Maybe you should mind your fucking business,” you snap.

The woman is shocked you talked to her that way, and you turn to Spencer with a giggle. She storms off to presumably get security which means you and Spencer have to go before you get in trouble.

“It’s not good for an FBI agents to be caught with petty vandalism.”

“Then we better not get caught!”

Mini golf might not be the best date idea since you and Spencer can’t play for shit, but the kind of dates you love taking Spencer on are beach dates. The perfect time of day to go is when the sun is setting since the clouds are bright pink, orange, and purple, and the sun makes the water shimmer magically.

“Are you ready?” you grin at Spencer.

“As ready as you can be.”

“Don’t push me this time.”

The water crashes on the shore, and you and Spencer run from the water. You two look like little kids who don’t want to get wet but you don’t care. Once the water recedes back into the ocean, you and Spencer walk closer to water. The waves crash onto the shore again, and tyou and Spencer take off running away from it. The water splashes on the back of your ankles, and you squeal at how cold it is. The East Coast waters are a lot warmer than the West Coast, but it’s still winter.

Spencer scoops you up into his arms and walks closer to the water that has receded.

“Don’t drop me,” you giggle and hold onto him.

When the water crashes onto the shore, Spencer attempts to run from it but ends up slipping and falling. He turns so that you land on him instead of the ground, but the water washes over both of you. You scream playfully from how cold the water is and Spencer shivers from the temperature. You lean down and kiss him just as another wave washes upon you.

Though, the best date you’ve ever been on with Spencer is when he took you to a rooftop restaurant. He had to work late because of the BAU but managed to get a reservation a the restaurant since he was friends with the chef. Since it was past closing time, there was no one else on the roof but you two, and it overlooked the city which only added to how romantic it was.

“Damn, you can see everything up here,” you say. “It’s very beautiful.”

Spencer stares at you as you admire the city below. “Yeah, it is.”

Soft music is flowing through the speakers, and Spencer gets up and extends his hand to you. The chef has your orders so while you wait, Spencer wants to fill the time with dancing. You look away from the city and blush at his hand. When you grab his hand, he pulls you into him so that your head is resting on his cheat. You can hear his heartbeat underneath your ear which releases an abundance of endorphins in your head.

Your hand is so small compared to his, so he envelopes yours completely. Everything else in your life goes away because the only thing you can focus on is Spencer and this moment. You’re so in love with him that it’s overwhelming and consuming. You’ve never felt this way about another person before.

You’re not sure where you’d be without him in your life.

A few weeks after that rooftop date, you and Spencer are in the park near your shared apartment. It’s nearing midnight so there aren’t any kids playing around. It’s just you and Spencer which is all that you want. You two are swinging lightly on the swings, and you look up at the stars that twinkle for you.

“Do you still read the book I made for you?” he suddenly asks.

You look at him and slightly frown.

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too painful, I guess. It reminds me of you and I get really sad,” you sigh.

“I see,” he nods.

“I hope you’re not mad.”

“Mad at a cute little thing like you? Never.” He stops swinging and looks at you seriously. “I do have to go, though.”

“No, please stay,” you whimper.

“I can’t darling. I promise I’ll be back soon.”

He gets off the swing and approaches you from the front. He pulls you close and kisses your head. You close your eyes to savor this moment but when you open them, you’re in your bedroom. The room is dull in color and the curtains are drawn closed to prevent light from coming through.

The alarm clock reads seven AM. You should be at work. You should be with your team. Instead, you roll to the empty spot in bed and bring Spencer’s pillow closer to you. You stain the sheet with your tears as you force yourself to go to sleep.

Your dreams are the only place you get to see Spencer now.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[seriousbrat]

What are your favourite telltale signs that a fanfic was written by an american?

Some that always sticks out to me:

- Characters drinking lots of coffee

- Tea with cream instead of milk (it’s not unheard of, but it’s not your standard cup of tea)

- People mentioning hospital bills

- Being unable to write smokers casually

- Sirius is salivating for a Harley Davidson and not a Triumph

Okay honestly the tea thing in general is a BIG one. I think people don't always understand the way tea is consumed in the UK, how ingrained it is in daily life. Ive basically got a rotating cup of tea all day. Growing up in my house, even when we lived in america, someone would offer to make tea basically hourly lol. There's different situations when tea is offered in slightly different ways, different ways of making tea like builder's tea, different things that are served with tea, tea meaning 'dinner' in some regions, and these customs are hard to understand unless you've lived them.

Often Remus is portrayed as a tea fanatic because he offers tea when Harry visits him, which is always funny to me because that's just the normal thing to do when someone's visiting.

Another tea-related one I encountered once (this made me laugh a LOT and I felt a bit bad for the author) was that Lily 'woke up to the smell of tea.' This is an instance I think using coffee would have been alright lol, they obviously just replaced 'coffee' with 'tea', not realising tea doesn't really smell much when you make it and definitely doesn't waft about the house like coffee does. James would have to be holding the cup under her nose or brewing several large vats of the stuff in the same room lol

I agree with the ones you've said. In what was once the most popular jily fic in the fandom, there's a whole thing with Lily somewhat righteously trying to get James to quit smoking when, in the 70s, everyone and your nan smoked, even indoors, and Lily herself probably would have too. In a lot of Europe young people from all walks of life will casually smoke. rah where's my baccy etc

Similar to the Harley thing, there's often a lot of American music/TV/food/pop culture used. Or anachronistic stereotypically British things like everyone being into the Beatles.

THE NAMES. Characters having surnames that are very much from America's immigrant heritage, polish or german etc, like 'Schneider' and 'Kowalski' and things. First names too, this is a bit less dire but a lot of names common in the US wouldn't have been given to a child in the 60s. Specifically aristocratic characters would have a particular set of names, although pureblood conventions are obv a bit different than irl.

Another one is general drinking culture. Like I mentioned the idea of, honestly, anyone who isn't an obvious child being asked for ID in a pub is very silly haha, unless maybe in a student area. Whereas in America they'll ask everyone for ID before they let them sit down. (even my 60yr old dad has been asked lol)

in my experience Americans have a strange relationship with alcohol in general, which is both slightly puritan and enthusiastic. My theory is that this is because of prohibition (I find this very historically interesting) and they aren't as prone to casual daily drinking as Europeans, rather they tend to go all out on specific occasions. I love an American house party haha, but I don't think Americans would go for work drinks at the pub as often.

Exaggerated distances between places. Working class families having multiple cars and big houses and driving everywhere even within London. Aristocratic characters doing things they'd never do and having things they'd never have. The Blacks are often portrayed as too fantabulously wealthy imo in a very Rockerfeller New England-y way. Also they wouldn't speak French to each other lol

In general class distinctions, which are very important in the UK, are difficult to understand from an outside perspective I think.

However, I think the main tell for me is usually dialogue, SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG:

This issue, tbf, is very understandable. It's very difficult to achieve natural-sounding dialogue for dialects that you're not personally familiar with. Tbh I think it's not always easy to achieve natural-sounding dialogue in general for anyone. I've lived in America too and now have lived in a non-english speaking country for many years, mostly speaking catalan/spanish on a daily basis, so I get confused too and I use american phrases picked up either during my time there or from the internet. Anyway point is I think about/notice dialogue a lot, so here are my thoughts.

There's often overuse/misuse of slang or certain terms that can end up being amusing, like that fan film using 'a row' constantly to describe a bitter fight to the death between sworn enemies haha. Over/misuse of things like 'bloody,' 'wanker,' 'twat' lol. Understanding what types of characters would say what, and in what situations, can be tricky. 'Pants' is a common mistake because in BrE it means underpants, not trousers. 'Restroom' is also very American. 'College' meaning 'university' ditto. 'Pissed' for angry rather than 'drunk,' 'mad' also to a lesser extent-- I'd normally understand 'are you mad' as 'are you crazy.'

I saw a tumblr post once, one I thought would be a bit mean to reply to directly, in which a character jokes to Sirius about 'doing fags' because he smokes cigarettes and is in a relationship with Remus. lmao. That's a good example of someone trying to use a slang term without understanding the way it's really used. Also a good example of someone gratuitously using a slur (which is more common in America anyway) for no reason lol oh well

In general, I think since Americans are used to hollywood portrayals of British characters who mostly use something akin to RP, even authors who are diligent about BrE can end up sounding a bit stilted and a bit pride and prejudice-y with their teen characters (except with 'bloody wanker!' sprinkled in occasionally.) And this is fine, I don't think it's fair to expect perfectly natural/accurate dialogue from fanfic authors all the time, wherever they're from. But a line like "Yes, it must have been nice" might sound more natural as "Yeah, must've been nice," though it depends on the character obv.

Personally I think I overuse contractions because I find them fun (I love a cheeky 'oughtn't' or a 'mightn't.' or 'shouldn't've' lol. tbh im always saying 'ought' and 'ought not' irl but that's just me being weird.) But contractions and dropping certain words is common in informal BrE, what's tricky is that if this is misused it also sounds odd. So it's a difficult balance to get right. For instance: 'it would be nice if they had' can become 'be nice if they had' but not 'be nice if they.' or 'be nice if they'd.' This was a professionally made video game rip but there's a character in Mass Effect who talks like that, it drove me mad.

I love to think about accents and dialects and dialogue in general (which is why this got so long sorry) and imo the key is just familiarising yourself with a dialect as much as possible and making sure you hear the accent in your head as you write. Using slang terms in ways you've heard them used before, and carefully. For younger characters you'll want to watch something like the inbetweeners rather than bridgerton haha. Or something like Would I Lie To You or Taskmaster where there's a variety of panelists and therefore of accents, both series are free on youtube and are excellent!

[anncanta]

We are adults. ‘Lucifer’ and ‘Dracula’

Once in the chat, discussing Dracula, I said that it would be nice to write a fanfic about Dracula running a nightclub in London. To which one of the participants answered me, ‘Darling, such a story already exists, it`s Lucifer.’ I shrugged my shoulders and forgot about it. And a few weeks ago I decided to watch the series finally.

I absolutely loved the first three seasons, it`s brilliant. Smart, funny, dramatic, elegant. Tom Ellis is very good. He and his play are my discovery of the year. But the most interesting thing about the series, for me, is what follows from its similarities and differences with Dracula.

The similarity of motives, plot, and even to some extent – genre is obvious. But the differences are more difficult. Although they lie on the surface, making you realize at some point why the series Lucifer had problems and why it was closed after the third season.

Why do I love Dracula? For many reasons, but one of the main ones is that this is a film for adults. And not only because the heroes are over forty and have problems, consistent with their age but also because it was written and played at an adult level. You see, the main female character of Lucifer at the beginning of the film is thirty-five years old, and Lucifer himself, by human standards, looks forty-something, but at the same time, they have teenage problems and relationships.

Well, a grown-up woman can`t, giggling, bat her eyes and say to a grown-up man, ‘This is a date, right? Oh, I don’t know…’ or at every hint of sexual or emotional intimacy, wave her hands and say that that`s not what she meant. When characters do this, it inevitably involves teenage context and – of course – teen romance clichés. I saw reviews that said, ‘How is it that Chloe doesn`t react to Lucifer`s power? What is this, teenage fan fiction?’ Yes. With such a heroine, this can only be a teenage fanfic. And combined with her age, it looks terrible.

This approach to the heroine logically gives rise to another teenage cliche: the ideal girl and the bad guy.

That`s why I love Dracula and the relationship between Dracula and Agatha so much. Agatha was never a good girl and never considered herself one. Her monastic habit in this sense is a mockery of herself (in the text) and a reminder to the authors that ‘not everyone is a monk who wears a hood.’ After all, when Agatha says Johnathan about priests who always survive, she speaks not only about one particular priest but about all of them. Including that priestess who sits in front of Harker.

Not only is Agatha not perfect, she`s clear from the start that she`s interested in dark forces, and she clearly has a checkered past. She enjoys communicating with Dracula and does not hide it. She does not purse her lips and does not pretend that she is unpleasant about one or another of his actions – if she is unpleasant, then she is unpleasant, and she speaks about it openly. Agatha does not try to behave ‘decently’. She doesn`t care about decorum.

Agatha lies to herself, but this is the lie of an adult who has been burned many times by her own ugly truth.

And what about Chloe? Nothing. Sweet, smart, right, with a hairstyle that makes her eyes pop out of her head, she walks back and forth with a gun and, living in Los Angeles and being a police officer and a former actress who starred in a movie with nude scenes, she is horrified that... the nightclub owner picked up the cigarette at the crime scene?

Don`t get me wrong. I love the beauty and the beast trope. I don`t like it being turned into a straight-A student/bad-boy relationship. Moreover, if the student has not read anything except the textbook and is mainly concerned with ensuring that no one thinks that she likes the bad guy. It`s disgusting.

I don`t know how they planned to build the plot in Lucifer and who came up with the love line itself. But this is clearly its weak point. Everything else in the first three seasons is just great. All the characters, without exception, are good. The way they communicate and work together is amazing. The way the divine beings settle down on earth and try to find themselves is brilliant. The world of the series itself, its internal state, atmosphere, are beautiful. Everything in it is in its place and everything is where it should be. Except Chloe. And that`s the problem.

I don`t know why this happened. I assume that because the authors could not decide on the genre and audience of the series. On the one hand, the theme and genre seem to be teenage – a comic book about the devil who ‘lights up’ Los Angeles. On the other hand, a story about a hero who goes on a journey in search of himself (and this is what lies at the heart of the plot) is not a teenage one. Teenagers are not searching for themselves. Teenagers trying to fit in. These are different things. And the discord is completed by the choice of actors for the main roles and the age category of most of the characters – over forty. If all this happened, roughly speaking, with heroes Bella Swan`s age and in a high school setting, then everything would be fine. And Chloe`s mental turmoil would not look idiotic, but consistent with the age and psychological norm.

It hurts. Really. Because there are several moments in the series that are incredibly beautiful and valuable regardless of everything else. The main character`s journey to himself, his sad and funny attempts to get rid of his father and his unwillingness to see how much he loves his father and depends on him and his opinion of himself, his devotion to his friends, their connection that exists despite everything and radiates light. The way the hero reveals his face is one of the most intimate scenes I have ever seen, and also that how he protects his beloved. This is wonderful.

But at the same time, the story, after dozens and dozens of episodes, came down to whether the heroes would sleep together. That`s not how it`s done. Perhaps I don`t understand something and perhaps my opinion will change over time, but now everything in me is protesting. I want an adult story to remain an adult story. Do I want too much?

Or maybe Steven Moffat just spoiled me.

[sdwolfpup]

I just finished reading HFoG and oh. Oh. My. God. I need to rant (you can totally ignore this if you'd like).

First of all, the scenario you've created fits them so well. Brienne as a mechanic is an amazing idea. She's still doing something stereotipically male (and kicking ass) at best unnoticed and at worst cast aside as no one takes her seriously or they outright mock her. You've kept her under patriarchy's thumb, and also as a powerful, simmering force waiting for someone to turn up that heat!! What an excellent mirror to her situation in the books.

Second: the extremely high risks + high adrenaline + mightily physically demanding + high rewards of F1 is another excellent transposition of their survival/quest situation in the books. I feel like that, as a setting, is what makes it feel very genuine to them as characters. Your characterization is great too! They're slightly different to the books but still familiar (they would probably act like this in this more modern, more subtle flavour of a patriarchal society). I mean. just. Man. MAN.

Also, turning a bit more to Jaime: The way all the events unfold was incredible. We go steady, quite calm but with an undercurrent of stress and anxiety, building, some doubts, triumphs, more building, more triumphs and then BAM. The dreaded doldrums where we pick up the pieces of a horrible shipwreck. Jaime never getting to that P-1 absolutely broke me. I literally held my breath reading those paragraphs, where time stops for the whole circuit after the crash, and the heavy moment of silence before Brienne hears him over the radio... MAN. I thought you were going to give him at least one P-1 before he lost his hand, making it bitersweet already at that point, and when you didn't I was SCHOCKED. You held back on that element and it worked WONDERFULLY towards the end. JB'S P-1 felt so earned, so fought for. Talk about good storytelling. AAAAHHH!!!!!

I ate it up between yesterday night and all of today. I slept at most, like, four hours. I couldn't stop reading. Congratulations, honestly. I usually don't read fics this long (or leave reviews this crazy under anonimity lol) because authors tend to meander (not a bad thing necessarily but it does get tedious at this scale) but this was SO not the case. Every. single. paragraph. mattered. MAN!!!!! (man counter: IIII)

I know you're probably quite done with it (and what a fucking project you did, my god), but if you ever want to write about JB in that universe again I see myself forced to BEG YOU ON MY KNEES to do more of their radio banter in your missing scenes section. I absolutely love it, the subtle flirting, the encouragement, and the oopsies (Jaime forgetting to turn the radio off and accidentally exposing himself as a I LOVE MY CAR MY CAR IS MY GF guy is soooooo funny). Ugh. Swooning. It has started an itch I need to scratch so bad (I feel like im going crazy a bit ngl. Give yourself a big smacking pat in the back.) that I'm just going to start re-reading it for those parts and also to get that thrill that is there between them at the beginning which is also so good! And so yummy!!!!!

Ok im done now i think.

TLDR: xoxo mwah mwah mwah i loved HFoG i worship and kiss the ground you walk on, etc etc etc. im obsessed, great job!!

"ignore this"?! Are you kidding, anon -- I'm gonna print this out and wallpaper my bedroom with it. 😂💕

I have been re-reading this ask off and on all day, wanting to respond appropriately to make sure you know how much I so sincerely appreciate you taking the time to leave this for me, and I just don't know if it's possible. I'm just... man, I'm grateful. (Man count for this post going up!!!) Seriously though: thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm gonna be riding this high all week.

(Also, I fought with myself about allowing Jaime to win the World Driver Championship and then lose his hand, so I'm always glad to hear that that choice worked for others. It was the right thing to do, but wow did that hurt to put him through it, heh. And pacing of long fics is a thing I take very personally, so I am ALSO pleased to know that worked for you, too!)

Anyway. THANK YOU. I'm gonna go back to re-reading this comment, hee.

[writerofweird]

The Doors

The below story is a sequel to my earlier story confessionsofcaine.doc. It is 4,305 words long and also includes death, violence, enbyphobia, murder and suicide. It also includes characters originally created by Gooseworx, Glitch Productions and The East Patch, which the author does not own and has written this story as a tribute to the creators and their works. Please support the original creators.

Out of respect for Gooseworx and her plans for The Amazing Digital Circus and its story, this is set in an alternate continuity. The first two episodes and bits and pieces from her Tumblr and the previews are still a part of it. There are spoilers for the episodes here; in fact, the first sentence is a spoiler for Episode 2 so the whole story is under a read more link.

‘WASN’T IT ENOUGH YOU KILLED GUMMIGOO YOU BASTARD?’

I hate going through this door.

It’s a setting I’ve seen many times, a scene that’s splattered onto my memory. A short woman in a business suit screaming at a computer. Another, taller woman in a business suit resting motionless over a chair, almost looking like she has no skeleton.

‘Laura, please,’ came a voice from the computer screen, ‘if I kept him, this would’ve been harder!’

‘Laura, come on, let’s go!’

There’s another figure at the scene, attempting to pry the short woman away from the screen.

I’ve seen that person’s face before. Every time I enter this room, the moving humans have their backs turned to me, but I’ve seen the taller one’s face. I’ve seen it up close, looking over me like a bird over its chicks. Their face dominated my entire field of view, so I got a close look at their bulging eyes as they beheld me, and even though, unlike the scene with the computer, I’ve only seen that giant face once, I still clearly remember the cries of ‘No!’

How long have I been here? I think as I slam the door behind me, again in the middle of a room with crimson carpets and dull wood panelling. It feels like I’ve been here for decades, and at the same time, it feels like I’ve been here for hours.

What else is there to do but open doors?

One might be the way home, I tell myself, but then I wonder if I find home, will I recognise it?

My mind has created various images of what I might call home, but none of them ring a bell. I thought that my home would be an apartment with bottles and wrappers all over the floor and streetlights glowing from behind blinds, but that isn’t a very familiar picture. I certainly didn’t live in a cottage with a flower garden and a picket fence, and as much as I would like it to be true, I never lived in a mansion, well, one safer than the one I was trapped in.

I lightly hit my forehead to help me focus, and right as I do so, a vase leaps off the table. Funny. Just thinking about flowers.

Whatever plant was kept there – I’m no herbotologist or whatever those are called – is transformed into a mass of writhing worms, and the pattern changes to a scowling face. Without even thinking, I pull a crowbar from my pocket and in seconds, the foe is reduced to shards, the worms squirming their way within the floor.

None of the other furniture moved.

What else is there to do but open doors?

I pulled another one open, and again found myself involuntarily squinting as sunlight burst through. That setting is rare, and one I always make sure to savour.

When I first stepped through a door into this land, I told myself it was home, and if I walked enough through the tall grass and the bright forests, memories would come flooding back. Nothing I recalled as “home” could be found there, but I need a break from the constant barrage of nearly-sepia hallways, so I run into this land whenever I find it. I’m almost tempted to frolic through the fields.

Every time I come here, I mistake the first figure I see as a statue, an installation by someone attempting to make a statement. A metallic figure with a triangular, horned head, its body and limbs a mish-mash of various shapes. Their left arm looks like spaghetti. Their right leg looks like a rifle.

The figure stands beside a thick path framed by twisted trees, its yellow bricks making it stand out amongst the green. As I walk down this path, I am joined by two other figures: a giant chess piece with eyeballs, tattered robes and a large straw hat, and a pale young woman in a blue dress. Every time I come here, they don’t seem to notice me. They always notice the metallic being.

‘Look, Pomni!’ cries the chess piece, lifting a gloved hand towards the being, ‘It’s a wotsit! You always need one of those!’

Pomni picks up a nearby oil can and splatters it over the figure, allowing them to stretch their limbs; yes, they’re made of metal but stretch like elastic.

‘Oh, thank fuck’ sighs the being in a voice I know too well, ‘Hey, how’s it going, I’m Zooble.’

‘Do you want a heart?’ Pomni asks Zooble.

‘What? Are you kidding me?’ barks Zooble, their fists – or what count as fists – tightened. ‘That’s the last thing I want!’

‘Good!’ comes another voice, ‘You don’t need one working for me!’

I twirl around to see that blonde woman who was lying limp on the chair, except this time she’s wearing a tall black hat and matching robe, a broom in her right hand.

I’ve seen that woman many times on my adventures. I remember opening a door and letting loose a stench that made my nostrils sting. It was the woman, wearing the business suit she wore in the office, bright red wriggly lines around her form, along with flies. I even heard a foghorn in the distance as I beheld her.

I take out my crowbar again and swipe it at her direction. It felt like I hit something – it feels more like I hit a pillow rather than flesh, but it has no effect on her. In fact, after she lets loose a maniacal cackle, I always end up back in the hallway, as if the door just spit me out.

There was one time I stepped through and the chess piece, Pomni and Zooble were joined by another figure – one wearing a lion costume and a white tragedy mask.

There was one time I saw all four of them in a room where the walls were made of gleaming green emeralds, ones that made me flinch as much as the sun did. They all stood before a giant bubble, one almost as large as that face that cried ‘No!’. The bubble barked at them words I cannot remember, but what I do remember was who was controlling the bubble: a short humanoid figure in top hat and tails that matched the walls, his head a pair of comedy dentures with two eyeballs sitting atop his frog tongue.

As I pick another door, I see that tooth-faced man and the bubble again, the man now dressed as a circus ringmaster and the bubble much smaller. Zooble is there too, only made of plastic and not tin. The three of them sit in what I can only describe as a colossal playroom, building blocks of many colours lining the walls and framing a stage, gigantic wind-up cars and jack-in-the-boxes providing decoration.

‘So, Zooble,’ says the ringmaster, throwing his right fist to the left as if trying to hit an invisible fly, ‘as you chose to opt out of the Candy Canyon Kingdom adventure, Bubble and I will be providing entertainment until your friends return!’

‘They’re not my friends…’ sighed Zooble, right before the ringmaster conjured up another building-block wall in front of them, two windows built into the blocks. The ringmaster opens one window, crying, ‘Hey, Bubble, what do you get if you cross a rooster with a goldfish?’

The second window opens, revealing Bubble. ‘I don’t know, Caine, what do you get if you cross a rooster with a goldfish?’

‘A rooster who drowns,’ replies Caine in a more sombre voice, his arms flopping over the sides of the window.

‘Very amusing,’ replies Zooble, ‘anyway, I would like to do some drawing…’

‘Capital idea, Zooble!’ cries Caine, regaining his usual jovial attitude as he springs into the air. With another swerve of his fist, the walls and windows vanish and in Zooble’s hands – a balloon-like glove and a claw – materialise pencils and sheets of paper. ‘You could draw Bubble, really get his good side!’

‘No thank you,’ groans Zooble, looking at the paper, ‘I’d rather just draw things around the Circus, if that’s okay.’

‘Of course!’ cries Caine as Zooble walks through the halls.

More halls. More doors.

Every time I find myself in these halls, I try to open the doors. The doors with the cute cartoon faces on them, looking like logos for a children’s animated series. When I first came here, I gave them all my own little names before learning of their real ones. Bertie the Blue Bunny was actually called Jax. Smiley the Clown was actually Kaufmo.

Zooble leaned on the door that bore Kaufmo’s face – Kaufmo’s face crossed out with lines as red as the woman’s stink marks - drawing his face. As they do so, Caine slithers beside them, reminding me of the worms from the vase.

‘Go away, I need quiet.’

‘What you need, my friend, is support. You’re doing a great job! Go at it! Keep up the good work!’

‘Thanks but no thanks.’

‘Okay!’ cries Caine, and yet he stands beside them as they finish their drawing, and then turn towards the door bearing the masked woman. Gangle, formerly known to me as Masky.

The door – the one that brought me to this multicoloured wonderland – pulls me out and back into the hall. I open the same door to find myself back there, only for more figures to enter.

From a portal steps a bipedal alligator, a yellow, glue-like substance where there should have been scales. I’m certain I could see my reflection in his form.

As soon as he enters, he makes his grand exit, exploding in a flurry of party favours to the horror of a nearby jester.

I would hit Caine with my crowbar if it did any good.

Even though they aren’t present, I hear Zooble’s voice in my head.

She wanted us to suffer. If he didn’t kill Gummigoo, she would’ve.

‘I know you guys love your NPCs,’ Caine explains, bending and stretching ‘but if I start losing track of who’s a human and who’s an NPC, who knows…what could happen…’ His body went limp again.

He was a good liar, I’ll give him that.

The jester, Pomni in her usual outfit, can only chuckle.

Caine vanishes, not like Gummigoo had done but rather to some little personal corner or somewhere of that nature, and I hear Zooble again, this time for real. ‘Sheesh. I thought he’d never leave.’

Zooble shows their friends – the masked ribbon, the chess piece, the jester, the ragdoll (the rabbit doesn’t seem to be their friend) – the drawing of the clown, framed and standing on a table.

It’s a funeral.

When I’m not in one of these colourful places, I explore a haunted house, almost every piece of furniture possessed by malevolent ghosts. Occasionally, I’ve stopped to think what could have happened in their lives to make the ghosts as malevolent as they are. Did they have funerals? Did their friends have any kind words to say about them? If so, did any of them know what their deceased loved ones were currently doing?

As I watch Zooble say their piece about Kaufmo, the scene changes to a haunted house not unlike the one I had been exploring. Zooble, now wearing a different set of limbs including a plastic daisy for a leg and a fish fin for an arm, walks alongside the clown.

‘An Exit Door appeared when you first did,’ Kaufmo explains, gesturing to nothing with his enlarged hand, ‘and if you had managed to run through it in time, you would be back in your body. If Adams is observing us to make our copies more accurate, then she must place headsets on them often, and then another Exit Door will appear, and if we find one and run through it, we will enter…’

‘The more anyone speaks, the more nonsensical it sounds,’ Zooble groans, ‘I’ve only been here a day and I know we’re never getting out of here.’

‘We can’t lose hope…’

‘Just shut up and keep looking.’

As I watch Zooble say their piece about Kaufmo, the scene changes to a haunted house not unlike the one I had been exploring. Zooble, now wearing a different set of limbs including a plastic daisy for a leg and a fish fin for an arm, walked alongside the clown.

‘An Exit Door appeared when you first did,’ Kaufmo explains, gesturing to nothing with his enlarged hand, ‘and if you had managed to run through it in time, you would be back in your body. If Adams is observing us to make our copies more accurate, then she must place headsets on them often, and then another Exit Door will appear, and if we find one and run through it, we will enter a body wearing the helmet.’

Zooble places their hand on Kaufmo’s shoulder.

In seconds, I again find myself in a sunny setting, with me involuntarily squinting before revealing the blonde woman and Caine, tied up on a grey road. Zooble approachs them, riding a steamroller.

I return to the scene of the funeral. As I do, so does Caine, his eyeballs turned to the floor as he scratches his arm.

Caine wanted to say something, I know it, but he couldn’t.

‘Pomni,’ he says, ‘I can’t hold it in anymore!’ He grabs the sides of what could be called his face, and I’m certain he’s going to pull his head off his body. ‘I’m sorry I killed your friend! I had to! I can’t keep doing this!’

‘Caine…’ Pomni shivers.

‘I’ve been trying to get you guys out of here! I didn’t want to get attached to the NPCs I created before I destroy this place for good! I…’

‘Traitor!’ comes a woman’s voice from above.

Caine disappears, this time like Gummigoo had.

‘Obviously I’ve been too easy on you!’

The colourful walls transform into grey stone, stretching towards an inky abyss. Skeletal hands snake through the cracks between each stone, grabbing onto every funeral attendant as they shriek and struggle.

But there’s someone here who didn’t attend the funeral.

Jax, Bertie, the blue rabbit approaches them with a grin, hands behind his back as his form enlarges.

‘Jax will be in charge of your little adventures from now on,’ comes the voice that shook the entire room, ‘I see a little bit of me in him.’

Jax leans to look over his new victims. ‘I’m going to enjoy this.’

It’s a good thing Caine is a good liar. A good performer. Imagine what would happen if he broke character for too long.

In seconds, the funeral resumes, the room springing back to its original colourful form before Pomni approaches Zooble. ‘Zooble,’ Pomni asked, ‘did you get a good look at Gummigoo? Could you…’

Zooble places a hand on Pomni’s shoulder. ‘Sure thing.’

I see a picture of the alligator join the picture of the clown before being catapulted back to the hallway.

Here, I decide to stand still and breathe heavily, allowing my mind to process the rollercoaster I just went through.

It feels like I’ve been here for decades, and at the same time, it feels like I’ve been here for hours. I don’t recognise any of these characters, and yet I’m certain I knew them from somewhere.

It’s a ride I’ve experienced many times before, and a ride I’ve just experienced for the first time. My first thought was that it was the ghosts creating it, but then they would have used my memories, wouldn’t they? None of the people or creatures I’ve seen in these rooms are me and I don’t know if they have anything to do with me.

I have no memory of my childhood. What school I went to or what my favourite toy was I cannot say. When a teddy bear in this haunted hallway springs to life and I reduce it to stuffing, I think of how it’s a perversion of a childhood favourite, but if it was a favourite of my childhood, I have no recollection of it being so.

A landscape painting flies off the wall towards me, and I duck, allowing its glass to smash against the wall. The frame and the painting lifeless, I take a look at the latter, seeing Pomni and Zooble – Pomni in her blue dress and Zooble in their metallic state - in the sunlit forest, the witch lurking in the background.

The sight of this makes me pick another door.

Again I squint in light, but this is not the sun, but the yellow beam of a streetlight. As the door disappears behind me, I breath in and take in the night air, feeling an iota of hope I might have finally picked the exit door…

Weren’t they talking about exit doors earlier?

I walk and pay attention to the clacking my shoes made across the pavement, looking at the glowing shop windows, the full moon peeking from behind skyscrapers, and the big blue bunny.

No, this isn’t the way home.

Humans are walking the street, humans more detailed than the cartoon characters that populated Caine’s world, but here is Jax, throwing one of those humans to the ground and leaping into their car. With a laugh, he slams his foot on the pedal, not even bothering to close the door behind him, and drives the car in the middle of the pavement. I dive out of the way even though I’m sure he won’t be able to hurt me.

He craved to feel the rush again. I’d feel sorry for him if weren’t a murderous prick.

I don’t remember picking another door, but I have, as I’m in yet another room, a colourless office with several detailed humans, including three familiar ones.

The blonde woman in the grey jacket and skirt, now mobile and not dressed for Halloween. The short-haired person, now wearing an ensemble not unlike the blonde woman, tapping away at a computer.

‘Joanne,’ said the woman, ‘what have you done with your hair?’

I took a closer look at the person at the computer, and saw they clenched their teeth before responding. ‘I feel like it’s more me,’ they reply, ‘and I would prefer it if you would call me Jo.’

‘Why?’ The woman smiles widely. ‘Your hair looked so beautiful and Joanne is a lovely name!’

‘Please don’t call me that,’ Jo continues, ‘Jo feels more me. I mean, I’m 22, I’m still finding myself.’

‘Why would you need to find yourself? You’re right here.’

‘Very funny.’ It was a sarcastic remark they were struggling to phrase sincerely.

‘Please grow out your hair again, Joanne,’ the woman said, ‘it looks much better that way. You look like a boy!’

Nearby is the woman who was screaming about Gummigoo. Laura. Pomni. Now I can see her from the front, and I can see she wears glasses.

As the blonde woman walks away and Laura approaches Jo, Laura whispers, ‘Don’t listen to her. I think it really suits you.’

‘You think so? I was thinking of dying it.’

‘Oh yeah, do that.’

Jo turns around. As they turn around, their face grows, the whole office swallowed up by their skin.

I’m back in the haunted hallway. Behind me are a never-ending set of doors framed by a carpet of blood. In front of me is that giant frightening frightened face.

A door opens.

I pull out my crowbar, steeling myself for another possessed item, but out comes a man, his face nearly hidden by his fedora and trenchcoat. My first thought was that it was someone pretending to be a noir hero, but the more I looked at him, with his five o’clock shadow and necktie, he seemed to have been released from a tattered pulp paperback. This was someone, I could tell just by looking at him, that had lived the noir lifestyle, not someone pretending they had.

He looked over his form. ‘An improvement,’ he states, ‘but not exactly what I’m used to. I’ll manage. Look, Nathan,’ he continues, addressing me, ‘I don’t have a lot of time, so just look at the face there. Look at them.’

‘Oh,’ says Jo, ‘thanks for using my preferred pronouns.’

‘Hey, whatever you’ve heard about us isn’t true,’ he says to the face before turning back to me, ‘Look, buddy, that face up there. You owe your life to that person. You recall old teeth-head and gummygator?’

I could only say, ‘Yeah?’

‘Man of few words. I like that. You’re just like them. Characters created with care, given new life.’ He turned back to the face. ‘It wasn’t Abby or your copy meddling with your game. Well, Caine sending his little life story to you may have been the spark that finally made him what he is. But it’s mostly you. You thought about him like the Adamses thought about Caine and he thought about Gummigoo.’

‘So you’re saying…’

‘No, of course I’m not saying it’s the power of love that made Nathan what he is. My associate might say that, but I won’t. Look, I’m busy, and I’m certain you two are smart enough to figure out what’s going on. I mean, Jo, you’re pretty much the hero of this picture. See ya.’

He steps into the door and leaves as quickly as he entered. For once, I feel no desire to explore. I can only stare at Jo. I can only stare at Zooble.

It feels like I’ve been here for decades, and at the same time, it feels like I’ve been here for hours. I didn’t recognise any of the characters I saw, and yet I’m certain I knew them from somewhere. I didn’t know Jo, and yet I felt I knew them more than they probably knew themselves.

We stare at silence for a few seconds before they pull their face away to lift their hand towards me. It looks like they’re trying to grab me and pull me away from my home, but I know they’re unable to.

I lift my hand and place my tiny palm against their real one. No, we place our palms against the film separating our worlds.

I say what I know is the only right thing to say:

‘I want you to tell me exactly what I am.’

I find out more about who they are. Jo, non-binary AFAB artist, who briefly worked in a tattoo parlour before realising game design was their true calling. They worked at game company C&A, the company behind The Amazing Digital Circus. The Amazing Digital Circus was going to be an immersive virtual reality experience full of fun and adventure.

It was going to be that, but it was transformed into a prison, a way for Ms. Abigail Adams to replace her employee’s minds with…

‘They weren’t like you. They had flesh and blood bodies but…they didn’t think. They just did what she programmed to do. She didn’t put…she didn’t put much thought into them.’

The Amazing Digital Circus, the prison where Jo and others had been kept for so long, had been overseen by Caine, who was secretly working on a way to save everyone. He apparently had some help from an angel, and Jo thought they had found that angel, only for another to talk to them instead: the man in the fedora who had entered the hallway.

Caine had managed to save whoever he could and destroyed the Circus so no-one else would fall victim to it, creating a document which he sent to those he saved before he died. A little piece of him that made me somewhat like him, I suppose.

Jo then explained exactly who I was. Nathan, a man trapped in a haunted house as part of a game they were working on, one based on their experiences being afraid of the dark as a child and even feeling unsafe as an adult. Even when they were trapped in Abigail’s program, they thought of me, the world I created and what more I could experience.

They not only created games, they created artwork and wrote about their experiences in the Amazing Digital Circus before its destruction. They kept that on their computer, and those were the rooms I visited.

I wondered if sending the document to a computer with any game on it would bring the characters in those games to life, but I was mentioned in the document – a side effect of trapping peoples’ minds in a computer was that their memories floated around for Caine to see – so I wondered if Caine wanted me to gain sentience.

No, it wasn’t him. It was Jo. Jo made me and Jo saw me and my world as a labour of love. When they saw me move of my own accord, they thought it was Abby’s interference, but they didn’t delete me. They couldn’t delete me.

Jo pulled themselves away from the computer to show off where said computer was housed. A bed with a duvet cover that looked like a broken window. Various paintings depicting withered, surreal landscapes and hallways like those I constantly travelled through. A magazine cover with Abigail’s head, glued to a dartboard.

‘You know,’ they said, once they returned to their seat, ‘I thought, once I complete this game, I’m going to put it up online for free, make it popular and everyone will forget Adams and the crap she churned out. But she shouldn’t be forgotten. Everyone should know what she did.’

They sent the file out. The file that helped me think and realise.

They sent it out anonymously.

I pointed out that I could be used as proof, but they said, ‘No, you’ve been through enough. I think it’s time I thought of a new adventure for you.’

[awkwardplant]

2023 Reads

This year I've read 24 books - I had only planned to read one book per month, given that I've barely read since leaving highschool. But my old bookworm self is re-emerging! As I write this, I'm on my 25th lol.

I decided at the start of the year that I wanted to try an read a wide variety of genres, which I did. Didn't love everything I read, but such is life. Below are all the titles and my terrible attempts to summarise the plots. The ones with a heart were my favourites and ones I highly reccommend.

My full list in order:

No Destination by Satish Kumar

Autobiography of the life of a pilgrim who left his family at 9 years old to become a Jain monk, then left that to become an activist and walk across continents.

Not the kind of life story you hear everyday, that's for sure.

How to Invent Everything by Ryan North

(Nonfiction) An in depth guide for the stranded time traveller that needs to recreate modern technology from scratch.

Funny, easy to understand, and bitesized sections that can be read when you've got a spare 5 mins.

Moral Compass by Danielle Steel

A girl who experiences sexual assault while at a private school that newly became co-ed, and the resulting court case/investigation into what happened.

Personally I felt this read like a case-study more than a story, and the message was very heavyhanded.

Meddling Kids by Edgar Cantero ❤

A horror comedy about a group of adults that used to be sleuths in their teens reunite to solve a case that everyone thinks has been wrapped up.

This was recommended to me by a librarian that said it was like "if the scooby doo gang all had trauma and fought eldritch beings" which perfectly summed it up. Also, if you shipped Velma and Daphne... you'll enjoy this book 👀 The writer randomly switches to a script-like format at times, some people hate that but I personally like when an author does whatever the fuck, just because he can. Delicious dark humour.

The Rain Heron by Robbie Arnott ❤

About a woman who lives alone in the mountains in a country devastated by a coup, and is sought out by a soldier in order to find the mythical Rain Heron.

Nice prose and descriptions, and the other character's pov chapters have some great suspense.

The Mark and The Void by Paul Murray

An office worker meets a novellist who wants to write about his life.

I was really into the first half of the story, but the second half became boring as the plot stagnated

Resistance by Samit Basu

People have superpowers corresponding to their innermost desires, and we follow the life of a billionaire who is the leader of a mecha group and the lives of their enemies.

I accidentally picked this up at the library, not realizing it was a sequal to Turbulence, but it read okay on it's own. You'd like this if you're into My Hero Academia or other shounen anime.

Notes from the Burning Age by Claire North ❤

Set in the distant future after an apocalypse, an archivist is forced to translate documents from the "burning age" for the Brotherhood

I still think about this story daily. The writing has an interesting style and rhythm and the plot is packed with intriguing developments

The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins ❤

There's a library with the secrets to the universe, and several people, called Pelapi, grew up learning a unique catalogue of skills using its books, taught by Father, who might be God? But he's gone missing lately.

If you like The Umbrella Academy you'd like this. Like Meddling Kids, it's also dark and funny.

The People we Meet on Vacation by Emily Henry

A journalist and her old friend go on holiday in a last attempt to rekindle their friendship.

I found this book on a train, then left it on another. Hopefully it got a new home! The story was sweet, especially the ending where the journalist spent some time on herself.

It's Kind of a Funny story by Ned Vizzini

A teenage boy suffers a mental breakdown and spends a week in a psychiatric ward.

Given to me by a family member, I am now a bit concerned for her. It has a happy ending, at least. There was a transphobic depiction of a character that was mentioned in the blurb, but she doesn't even stay for the whole story.

The Darkness Knows by Arnaldur Indridason

A body is found on a mountain in Iceland, reopening a cold case from 30 years ago, bringing the detective in charge of it out of retirement.

The prose isn't great in this due to a poor translation. The plot/characters are a bit cliche but not too bad overall. The ending was unexpected yet also expected in the best way?

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree ❤

Cosy fantasy about an orc who retires from adventuring to open a coffee shop/cafe.

Bought this after seeing it recommended for people that like Stardew Valley. I liked the amount of detail that went into just building the shop. The prose is simple, but I find that fits the main character, Viv, well, and there were some really good lines/messages in the story. I have adopted Thimble.

Leonard and Hungry Paul by Ronan Hession

Two unremarkable irish men consider their lives and place in the universe.

This would've been one of my favourites had it not focused so much on Paul's sister's wedding. The book should've been called Leonard, Hungry Paul, and Grace. I did enjoy the conversations in this book, and the attention to the mundane.

Summer Sons by Lee Mandelo

Southern Gothic queer supernatural story about a college student trying to solve the case of his best friend's death, while being haunted by Revenants.

This took me ages to read because it was so emotionally heavy and the plot moved slowly. Like it had some incredibly good prose and relationship dynamics, but I couldn't force myself to read it again.

Psalm for the Wild Built by Becky Chambers

Solar punk story about a (nonbinary!) person who suddenly switches jobs to become a tea monk, then leaves that to visit a hermitage and meets a robot along the way.

This is a short book because the sequel is the second half of the story. £13-17.99 seems too expensive for half a book. It was recommended as a cosy fantasy but the MC is existentially unhappy with their life for most of it, so the story doesn't quite fit in that category.

A Cosmology of Monsters by Shaun Hamill ❤

Noah, the youngest child of his family, narrates the life of his parents: a bookish mother and a Lovecraft-horror lover father, and the monsters they all encounter

Phenomenal prose, characters, themes, and plot. Lots of psychological trauma and inner demons.

Those People Next Door by Kia Abdullah ❤

A family moves into a suburb and a war begins between them and the neighbours after he knocks down their "black lives matter" banner.

Oh boy, it sure escalates to become way out of hand. It has a mystery element to it which I enjoyed trying to figure out. Lots of tension between plot points. The last line! Agh!!

The Fall by Louise Jensen

A girl falls off a bridge and the family/police try to uncover who pushed her, but instead uncover secrets about the family.

There were some parts that didn't make sense to me, and there was a lot of characters to keep track of. Not a bad book but it just didn't have that extra spark.

Bookshops and Bonedust by Travis Baldree

Prequel to Legends and Lattes (but can be read on its own) where Viv has recently started adventuring but has to recover from an injury before she can return to her group. She helps out at a bookshop and gets caught up with a necromancer.

Preferred the first book as it felt cosier, but the action in this book is fun too.

Days at the Morisaki Bookshop by Satoshi Yagisawa

A woman leaves her office job after a breakup to live above her uncle's bookshop and helps out, but she hates books.

Too short for my liking, and the main character was difficult to connect to and the relationships/conversations seemed shallow. the second half of the story centres on the uncle's wife and while it had a valuable lesson it just wasn't as good to read.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

Childhood friends meet again in college and design a game together, which changes their lives/careers.

This was not a terrible book, but it did have some strange descriptions, and the author doesn't understand how the game industry works.

The Hike by Lucy Clarke

4 women who have been friends since highschool go to Norway to climb Mount Blajfell, but they are not prepared for the trek

I felt this had some cliches, but a pretty decent suspense novel

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie

10 people are invited to Soldier Island for various reasons, only to find they all have one thing in common... murder.

I was theorizing like crazy during this, trying to guess whodunnit. I felt like the reveal was a bit disappointing because how on earth was anyone meant to guess that??

Library books: 9

Given to me: 5

Favourites: 7

If you have any recs for me I'd love to know, just message me!

[llycaons]

ep18 (1/2): in which wwx manipulates and lies to his friends and family (lovingly)

forgot this. he can just fly around catching birds. no wonder it's so easy to camp

I feel like birthdays really only crop up in american tv in the context of little kids. it's something children do.

xy twirling his hair as he walks away 😭 can your believe ppl still ship them after he murdered SL's entire family

this was such a good change for the show to make bc 1. this introduces the idea of bssr really naturally and 2. it gives wwx another interaction with SL, which is emotionally significant later for both us and the characters

also they need to slip in his backstory and all of its parallels to wx somehow and waiting until yi city is way too late

oh cool I love a t/n

wwx making it a mystical quest bound in ceremony and ritual to prevent jc from suspecting or asking too many questions, and to control his actions. ugh

that post abt jc hero-worshipping wwx continues to baffle me. in fact this is the only time we ever see jc so eager to follow wwx's directions and do what he says

'let her do anything' she is a grown woman she can gather herbs if she wants and what authority do you have to stop her 😭

this smile after he convinces jc about his plan is so haunting. you can see he's sxcited and then the smile fades and he just looks...resigned? fucking misery

yanqing warriors! when wwx mentions jyl leaving soon, wen qing freezes and doesn't say anything for a few seconds. what can it mean hmm?

I don't think jc would have accepted the core if he knew what wwx planned, which is why wwx kept it secret. one of the reasons

this is kind of manipulative no? not in a way to hurt her just to get her to agree with his plan. and maybe he means it too. maybe he would have done with without the debt of the jiangs held over his head. we'll never know

drugging you sister. sir!

I think it's really funny when wwx insults jc sorry I always will. he deserves to at least a little

first shot of wwx looking like a little mousie with his threabare pillow and jc a raging little brat. very similar to the first shot of the show! wwx bleeding and suicidal, and jc stalking over to finish the job. but in that scene and this one, we see there's more to the story

im going to fucking isekai myself into cql universe for the sole purpose of cuddling this child

you know I was so excited for jfm to say that. like go jfm! the haters were wrong about you! you love and protect at least one child under your care!

and then it IMMEDIATELY cuts to wwx hours later freezing because jfm told him 'jc is a good kid' and then he LEFT HIM THERE AND WENT TO BED

FUCK HIM FUCK HIM FUCK HIM. USELESS BASTARD. YOU ARE THE PROBLEM HERE

ugh it's not cool to hate on a 9 year old esp since he's lonely and neglected by his dad but he's such a brat

her parents and sect are so useless this preteen girl has to go out into the woods at like 1 am to find her new brother

wwx's first instinct was to find a tree to climb. dogs can't climb trees, but how many trees were in yiling for him to learn to climb? hmm

wwx falling is such a theme and jyl being the only one besides lwj to ever try to catch him....ough. his two lights indeed

jyl also actually explains why jc is upset rather than just telling him he'll be fine

HALF A DAY??!! hasn't he suffered enough. mein gott

and of course now she has to parent her two baby brothers one of whom is very traumatized and newly adopted and the other is very socially inept and clumsy so he came out to help and now he's BLEEDING. if I was her I would have carried so much resentment as an adult oops her parents are dead so I guess she can't even if she wanted to

YOU WILL SAY IT CRYING SOMEDAY

it's significant that (iirc) jc never says he's sorry in the main timeline. only twice in the story - here and at the very end. a lot of people consider the finale the end of their relationship, but I prefer to see it as a reset. a renewal. they're starting again. jc is crying and he's sorry for hurting wwx, and wwx forgives him because he's a nice kid and because he does care about him. and they can start from there, even if things will be different

they don't have jyl anymore, but everything's come out between them. they can coexist on equal footing. wwx has someone who protects him. jc doesn't resent him so much. all his anger is spent. he feels bad. they won't be what they were before, but I like to think they'll at least have some of the brotherhood they once did

jc also crying in his sleep with this flashback. lot of sleep crying these days

[littleragondin]

I was tagged by @howdydowdy ages ago (quite literally gosh), thank you a lot! Even if it was incredibly hard to pick up only 8 books oh my god, the show version felt like a walk in the park in comparison lol

8 shows books to get to know me in no specific order

- "Les Fleurs du Mal" by Charles Baudelaire, illustrated by Henri Matisse. I got this book when I was maybe 10? I liked Baudelaire already (I was a very festive child I swear), and I loved drawing and art, so my mother - who loves book as much as I do - got it for me. It cemented my love of poetry, I think. Baudelaire is still a favorite of mine, and Matisse's illustrations just enhanced the experience.

"Alors, ô ma beauté! dites à la vermine Qui vous mangera de baisers, Que j'ai gardé la forme et l'essence divine De mes amours décomposés!" - from "Une Charogne"

- "The Belgariad" (and "The Mallorean" that follows) by David & Leigh Eddings. I have always loved fantasy stories, and this one has been with me for a long time. It's very classic fantasy, Chose One goes on a quest with the help of A Group of Prophecy Designated Companions but it's terribly well done, the characters are lovely, and it's very funny.

Silk: Not to worry, Urgit. Hettar came all the way through the streets of your capital, and he didn't kill even one of your subjects. Urgit: Remarkable. You've changed, Lord Hettar. You're reputed to be a thousand feet tall and to wear a necklace of Murgo skulls. Hettar: I'm on vacation. - from one of The Mallorean books

- "My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness" by Nagata Kabi. There had to be some illustrated work of course. Sometimes you read a story that resonates so much with you it kind of makes your body vibrates - like an echo that keeps responding to itself. This story did that to me, and the art (sketchy, nervous, simple but efficient) truly enhances the feelings.

“Maybe the times I couldn't move were the times I needed to take better care of myself.”

- "Le Petit Prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Another one from when I was a child. I had an abridged version read by French actor Gérard Philippe, and I would listen to that CD all the time. Then my mom (her again) got me the book, and I have read and reread it regularly since then. I think I like different things about it now than when I was a child, of course, but the sadness of the Narrator at the end makes my heart aches the same way it did back when I read the book sitting under my desk at 12.

"Et quand tu sera consolé (on se console toujours) tu seras content de m'avoir connu. Tu seras toujours mon ami. Tu auras envie de rire avec moi. [...] Ca sera comme si je t'avavais donné, au lieu d'étoiles, des tas de petits grelots qui savent rire..."

- "Smoke and Mirrors" by Neil Gaiman. Particularly "Chivalry" and "Murder Mysteries", respectively first and last of the collection. I love a great many of Gaiman's works, so he had to go on the list. I picked this one because it sparked my love and appreciation of the short story format. Plus, I love magic hidden in the mundane (like in Chivalry), and I love retelling of religious stories (like in Murder Mysteries), so it's also a good intro to that I think.

"I feel dirty. I feel tarnished. I feel befouled. Perhaps it is true that all that happens is in accordance with Your will, and thus it is good. But sometimes You leave blood on Your instruments." - from "Murder Mysteries"

- "Oh boy!" by Marie-Aude Murail. She was my favorite author when I was a child/teen, I devoured everything she offered (the Nils Hazard series was such a huge part of my childhood). I picked this one because I loved it very, very much - I remember breaking a friendship because I lent it to a girl who never gave it back to me, lying that her mom bought it for her and that it was not mine. It's a story about grief, about siblings love, about facing adversity together and coming out from the other side, maybe a little worse for wear but still here. All things I still cherish very much in stories today that I'm the adults' age and not the teens anymore.

"Chapitre 13 qui n'existe pas pour ne pas porter la poisse aux Morlevent."

- "This is how you lose the time war" by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. Sometimes you start a book the way you absent-mindedly brush your fingers against the surface of water, and sometimes that water swallows you whole but you don't drown, the water just fills you. I closed that book with all its words left in me, I think, and I had to catch my breath again. It's about war, and it's about love, time, and choices and sacrifices. It's a small book, all in all, but it took me some time to come back down from it. I think mostly, it's here because it touched me, and it's a good example of why I like words. Also it's epistolary, a format I deeply, deeply love.

"But when I think of you, I want to be alone together. I want to strive against and for. I want to live in contact. I want to be a context for you, and you for me."

- "The Discworld" by Terry Pratchett. I know this one is, like, the worst cheat because it's more than 40 books and I just went and gave them all to you as one. But I can't have them off the list! Not a year goes by without me re-reading some of them, and while I do have favorites they all hold a big place in my heart. The whole collection (in French and in the Atalante edition which is, like, very pretty) was my mom's gift for obtaining my PhD even if I already owned nearly all of them in either French or English, so I guess that gives you an idea of how much I love them.

"Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving." - from "A hat full of sky"

I won't tag ppl because I tagged a lot for the actual show version, and I don't know how much my mutuals would like to do it, but if you do PLEASE tag me so I can see your lists <3

[austencollins]

day 36 kodansha daily review challenge

Today's Manga Is: I Body-Switched With an Evil Hag for 10 Years, and Now My Knight Ex-Fiancé Who Never Wanted To See Me Again Can’t Let Me Go

Kodansha has broken this series up into way too many mini-chapters. There are only 9 pages in the first "chapter" Kodansha put up. NINE! Just nine!! And this kind of nonsense goes on and on. It makes the story and characters feel VERY choppy. If story, characters, and setting weren't so simply, it might be hard to follow.

There are also pacing issues that can't be blamed on Kodansha: for example, Sadie's return to her original body was depicted way too abrupt;y. Not only does it happen during a page-turn, but it's made extra confusion because it crams the transition from Sadie as a child (before the switch), to Sadie-in-the-wrong-body post-switch, and then finally back to Sadie in her original (now grown) body again, all within merely two pages.

There is absolutely zero sympathy for the former-slaves-turned body-snatchers, which is fine coming from Sadie and the other body-snatched kids, as they are not obligated to; but the author doesn't have any sympathy either. Later, I felt like the author was trying to depict the bodysnatchers as having acted deliberately and maliciously, without having been enslaved beforehand; and so it was only once the kids had swapped into the adult bodies that those adult bodies became enslaved -- which, ok, that doesn't seem to fit with the pictures depicting the adult bodies as emaciated dirty and unkempt from the start; but let's say that was the plan -- and had simply forgotten that the audience doesn't know that. Or perhaps this was a translation issue. I didn't like it.

Sadie's ex-fiance Rufus has more of an interesting personality than these kinds of characters usually get, in that while he's got the typical romance hero reputation (i.e. a stoic, cold, emotionally unreadable commanding macho guy whose non-wrathful moods can only be recognized by the heroine), the reality is that anyone who knows him well enough (like his bestie or his dad) can figure out that he's emotional about breaking off his engagement to Sadie. It's funny that the title insists Rufus can't let her go, when the first chapter introduces him literally in the moment of letting her go. Granted, he doesn't really want to do so, and the plot isn't going to let him just walk away -- but he certainly does seem capable of it.

It would be better if the story gave readers a reason that explained why Rufus and Sadie are so hung up on one another, even though they haven't seen eachother since before puberty, because they do seem well-suited to one another! Granted, that's because Rufus isn't an asshole (shocking, for this genre!) and Sadie is a gentle, sweet, wide-eyed naif who'd probably get along with just about anyone. So I wouldn't be disappointed if the series ditched Rufus and made Gerald (a fellow body-switched kid who befriended Sadie during the 10 year gap) the romantic lead. Tho I guess it'd be hard to do that when Rufus is mentioned in the title!

Speaking of Gerald... he's a mild yandere (so far); but the thing that actually makes him more interesting to read about than Rufus is the fact that Gerald is directly connected to the mystery plot. The addition of other children who got body snatched makes Sadie's situation much more interesting, and brings in a much-needed mystery that explains why Sadie is not passively recovering from her ordeal at home, sheltered by the few remaining friends and family who believe her story about being possessed. (And Sadie sorely needs qualities that make her look less like a limp rag.)

Rufus, otoh, is more important when the plot focuses on Sadie recovering her reputation, which is not particularly interesting or suspenseful because it's obvious that Sadie isn't in danger of being executed or tossed out on the streets because of the imposter's behavior. Sadie's parents and devoted maidservant immediately believe her story about being body-switched and impersonated for the past 10 years. We don't even see her parents react to this on-page.

Overall, I think this series isn't as deep as it needed to be. It moves too quickly, feels too choppy, and doesn't foreshadow or set up important details in advance enough. If it wasn't going to cost all 10 free tickets to read 15 pages, I might try to go further in this series in order to find out what the deal with the body-snatchers is... but I suspect the payout isn't going to be worth it. I do like the characters well enough (even if they're a bit safe/bland, and the villains need to be either more hammy and over-the-top, or more subtle, charismatic schemers), but I think this needed a rework in order to identify which characters and plotlines the author really wanted to write about; because the romance between Rufus and Sadie could stand to be a lot more compelling than it is.

Tangential: I didn't like when the popularity of Inu-Yasha resulted in boys using "wench" unironically. Not sure where this started, but it feels like sometime in the past 10 years "hag" got the same treatment.

[gamerbot-22]

So I Made A Decision--

I made a tierlist so I could rank all the Daily HSR Ficlets I've been doing! The thought is I'll update it every week on Sunday and add some thoughts. Since this is happening two weeks in, There's a lot of thoughts, so I'll do everyone the favor of putting everything under the cut.

(Also while Fugue, Sunday, and The Herta are present on the list, I still have not played New Venture on the Eighth Dawn. I'm going to wait, I think, for the English dub situation to get sorted out and for voice lines to be added in before I do story stuff again. God knows I have plenty of side quests and achievement hunting to do in the meantime--)

Intense Concentration and the Consequences Thereof, B Tier - I think I had the most fun with the title. When I first started this, the idea is I would write everything in 200 words or less and that hindered the story from getting into A Tier. All that aside, though, I had a lot of fun writing it and as a gamer who snacks, I have been betrayed by the melting point of Ice Cream many times.

Subject on an Empty Stomach, B Tier - So my word limit went out the window with this one lol. Sushang is a delight to write for, I adore characters that walk the line between capable in one aspect and terrified in another. Plus Bailu being a little menace made me smile. I think the only thing keeping it from going in A Tier was the fact I was still finding my footing when it came to how I wanted this whole challenge/exercise to go down.

Astral Express Regional Floor Skating Try-Outs, A Tier - I could write about the Astral Express crew forever, I think. I really enjoyed getting to play into the dynamic between the three youngest ("youngest" being relative, thanks, Dan Heng) Trailblazers. The whole thing was very much inspired by the types of shenanigans I would get into with my little sister when we were kids. I do think the general setting and action isn't as clear as it could've been? Hence it goes in A instead of S Tier. (This was also when I decided to make my own post dividers!)

Working Up an Appetite, A Tier - Oh this was all 1000% based on my dynamic with my new puppy, Ripley. She's a sweet girl, but she very clearly has a favorite in my family and it is not me, which led to a lot of chasing her around when we first got her (she's marginally better now, we're working on it--) There's not a ton of explicit character in this fic since it's basically a transcribed Scooby-Doo chase, but aside from that I think it was a good, funny story.

The Girl from the Luofu Went Walking, S Tier - I went out of my way to write this ficlet with no dialogue whatsoever. I felt it added to the sort of dreamlike, melancholic tone I was aiming for when I rolled Tingyun's name. It's one of the most vocally well-received ficlets that I've written so far, and I'm glad of it. Despite it's short length, there's very little I would change about it.

Calm Before Lightning Strikes, S Tier - The first fic where I felt compelled to throw a ship tag onto it! I really did struggle with where I wanted to place this story in the timeline of the game, but when I realized there was that whole hunk of time between her getting told to leave and showing up with Black Swan on the Astral Express, I knew I had an in. I'm most comfortable writing dialogue, and I think what I wrote between these two mysterious ladies really shines.

The Most Important Meal of the Day!, S Tier - SOMEONE ON AO3 SAID I SHOULD HAVE NAMED THIS "THE SERIOUSNESS OF BREAKFAST" AND I HAVE BEEN KICKING MYSELF FOR IT EVER SINCE F TIER-- /J Okay, in all seriousness though, I had. Such a blast writing this. You know how some authors will talk about being possessed by their characters while they're writing a scene? I think March 7th genuinely entered my body when I wrote that fucking brilliant play. It came to me in a frozen vision, I swear. I do feel a little bad for making Himeko share the spotlight so hard, but I think the end product more than makes up for that.

Just a Spoonful of Sugar..., S Tier - I think this refined the issue I had with the previous fic, where Welt is able to be part of an ensemble without feeling sidelined by the story at large. Also getting to explore a sneaky, almost mischievous side of his personality was really fun, especially when juxtaposed to Dan Heng and Caelus' journey off the Breakfast Struggle Bus. Again, Astral Express Crew 4 Life I could write them until an actual Stellaron Crisis happened on Earth.

Rite of Passage, C Tier - I've had ficlets where I published them unsure but came around on them with time and that just... Has not happened with this. Maybe it will later, but as it stands this feels like the weakest ficlet I've written so far. It's way too procedural and... idk, internal? Without the character interaction to back it up. Like it feels rote.

Just a Bit of Fun in the Meantime, S Tier - From my least favorite to my most favorite that I've written so far. I had been hoping for a low-energy prompt for Jing Yuan and the generator came in CLUTCH for that. I really like the depth to Jing Yuan's character, and giving him some time to goof off and be silly felt really rewarding for both me and him, I think.

Slipping Into Something More Comfortable, C Tier - I think this would've been B Tier if I had gotten it done at a reasonable time and not Fresh Off A Fat Nap. Also genuinely I think this might've read better if I leaned a little more into Kafka's physical appeal. Like obviously I wouldn't go full tilt into NSFW, I would sooner die than do that on a public account that my dad now looks at, but just like Clara's ficlet, the whole thing just feels a bit too... procedural, and Kafka has a lot of personality and allure that I feel didn't get to shine with how quickly I wrote it. The saving grace to me is what little character interaction there is between Kafka, Blade, and Silver Wolf.

Wakey-Wakey, S Tier - A Bitch Thrives In Angst. Especially dreams. Dreams let me do some fucked shit without having to worry about silly things like lung capacity, blood loss, or vital organs. And going from, as @/theniastarfell described in the notes, "happy to slightly unsettling to PAIN" was a fun exercise in tension building. It also posthumously adds some conflict to Kafka's ficlet, since that and this are meant to have taken place on the same night.

Closing Time, A Tier - So I'm starting to recognize that there are two areas I feel the most comfortable/love exploring the most, and those are Soulcrushing Angsty Scenes and Quiet Downtime. I think if I had sat down and made this one a little longer, and taken the time to describe the bar a bit more, this would've been an S Tier, but as is I'm incredibly pleased with how it came out. Penacony's atmosphere is very fun to play in.

Let the Spirit Move You, A Tier - I floundered on whether this would be A or S tier before eventually settling on the former. I still feel like I don't understand Luocha's character very much, but I think the atmosphere I was able to strike here makes up for what's probably at least a slightly inaccurate portrait of this character. Also it was nice getting to toss an original character and area into this thing, expect more of that potentially (eventually I will start writing OCxCanon, mark my words!)

[dollycas]

Buried on a Sundae (Coffee & Cream Café Mysteries) by Lena Gregory #Review / #Giveaway - Great Escapes Book Tour - @LenaGregory03 #gemmahallidaypublishing

Buried on a Sundae (Coffee & Cream Café Mysteries) by Lena Gregory About Buried on a Sundae  Buried on a Sundae (Coffee & Cream Café Mysteries) Cozy Mystery 4th in Series Setting - Long Island, NY Publisher ‏ : ‎ Gemma Halliday Publishing (August 27, 2024) Digital: Number of Pages 225 ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CW1B4V2Y From author Lena Gregory comes a delicious new mystery... Things have been looking up for Danika Delany's business—her uncle's old fashioned malt shop on eastern Long Island. But for her love life? Not so much. After a disastrous date with Detective Jake Barlow, Danika lets her best friends, Gwen and Eli, talk her into a night out at the hottest new nightclub in town. Only, while there, Dani finds her sort-of boyfriend secreted in the shadows on the beach behind the club with crime boss Patrick Johansen’s wife, Angelique! An upset Dani leaves without giving Jake a chance to explain, but when he doesn’t get in touch the next day, she takes a long walk along the beach to reevaluate her love life. That's where she suddenly stumbles across Angelique’s body buried in the dunes near where she last saw her with Jake. Sure that Jake is innocent—of murder at least—Danika and her friends set out to prove Jake had nothing to do with her murder and stop a killer...before they strike again! Dollycas's Thoughts Danika Delany's Coffee & Cream Café continues to thrive but the same can't be said for her romantic relationship with Detective Jake Barlow. They can't seem to make it through a date. Duty always calls. The last date had Dani the "queen of dating mishaps" having a mishap at the town's new restaurant and ending way too soon when Jake receives a phone call and tells her "something's come up" as he headed out the door. Her besties were not going to let her night end early. They talked into going dancing at the hottest new nightclub in town. Seems that Jake's something that came up also brought him to the nightclub. She notices him in a secluded spot on the beach with another woman! Angelique Johansen, the nightclub owner's wife and crime boss, Patrick Johansen. She walks out before he can explain, that is if he wants to. Jake doesn't contact her the next day either. She is angry and hurt and decides a long walk on the beach may help bring her some clarity. The only clear thing is the dead body she finds partially buried in the sand. A body she thinks is Angelique, very close to where she saw her with Jake. Knowing Jake may be a cad but he is no killer Danika and her friends try to find the real person who murdered Angelique before another body is found buried in the dunes or the killer comes after them. ____ I love everything about klutzy clumsy Danika Delaney. She is a genuine individual with a huge heart who just keeps finding herself in the middle of murder investigations. Her sleuthing skills improve each time. Her love interest, Detective Jake Barlow really had his hands full this time with all the shady dealings happening around town and a murderer on the loose.  Danika's friends, Eli and Gwen are on board to help her any way they can even when her ideas are fully thought through or end badly usually with a ton of laughter but sometimes in peril. Danika's family is hilarious especially when when Dani finds a body and is trying to find a killer. They come to the weekly dinners her mother hosts for the food but also for gossip and information. Ms. Gregory has created unique characters and has given them snappy dialogue. They all continue to develop so believably. The mystery was complicated with twists, turns, and red herrings. Ms. Gregory has plotted everything out so well but I fell for more than one of her misdirections. It was a lot of fun trying to untangle the clues and follow along with Dani, Eli, and Gwen. There were so many funny moments but one truly had me laughing out loud so much I had tears in my eyes. I love the way the author blends all the cozy elements together to totally entertain me while still making me think while trying to put all the clues together which I failed at this time. I was surprised when the killer was revealed. The showdown was scary and exhilarating. Warning - You need to have the makings for your favorite ice cream sundae in the house because you will be craving one or more while reading this book.  The Coffee & Cream Café serves up several within these pages. Buried on a Sundae is a delightful cozy mystery that I recommend to all cozy lovers. Engaging characters, a fun theme, small-town happenings, a well-written mystery with tons of humor, and a little bit of romance keep those pages flipping. It's a Perfect Escape! The entire series is wonderful, so I recommend for maximum enjoyment you read the series from the start. Consider them a 4 scoop sundae, you will love every spoonful! I voluntarily reviewed an Advance Reader Copy. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Thank you to the author for providing me with an ARC. Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent About Lena Gregory Lena Gregory is the author of the Bay Island Psychic Mysteries, which take place on a small island between the north and south forks of Long Island, New York, the All-Day Breakfast Café Mysteries, which are set on the outskirts of Florida’s Ocala National Forest, the Mini-Meadows Mysteries, set in a community of tiny homes in Central Florida, and the Coffee & Cream Café Mysteries, which take place in a small town on the south shore of eastern Long Island, New York. Lena grew up in a small town on the south shore of eastern Long Island, but she recently traded in cold, damp, gray winters for the warmth and sunshine of central Florida, where she now lives with her husband, three kids, son-in-law, and four dogs. Her hobbies include spending time with family, reading, and walking. Her love for writing developed when her youngest son was born and didn’t sleep through the night. She works full-time as a writer and a freelance editor and is a member of Sisters in Crime. Author Links Newsletter    Website    Facebook    Facebook Fan Page  Twitter (X)    Goodreads    Pinterest Purchase Links Amazon - B&N - Kobo -  Also written by Lena Gregory This post contains affiliate links. If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you. Thank you for supporting Escape With Dollycas. Great Escapes Praise for Buried on a Sundae (Coffee & Cream Café Mysteries) by Lena Gregory I absolutely love Lena Gregory’s writing! I highly recommend Buried on a Sundae for its plethora of enjoyable characters, laugh-out-loud moments, and well-plotted mystery! ~Christy's Cozy Corners Buried on a Sundae by Lena Gregory serves up a delicious mix of engaging characters, a compelling mystery, hilarious situations, and even a dash of romance! ~Reading Is My SuperPower I loved every single page of this book from the characters, the setting, the mystery, and the author's writing style. The pacing was perfect and once I started the book I just couldn't put it down. ~Sapphyria's Books Excellent writing, a wonderful blend of mystery, humor and romance, and mouth-watering descriptions of ice cream and waffles make this a wonderful cozy mystery. I am a fan! ~Sarah Can't Stop Reading Books I am giving five stars to Buried on a Sundae by Lena Gregory, and I recommend it. I love this series and coming back to Danika’s life. Owning an ice cream parlor is so cool. Ms. Gregory did a great job setting up this mystery with the clues and everything else. ~Baroness Book Trove TOUR PARTICIPANTS - Please visit all the stops.  August 27 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT August 28 – Christy's Cozy Corners – REVIEW, AUTHOR GUEST POST, INDIVIDUAL GIVEAWAY August 29 – Reading Is My SuperPower – REVIEW August 29 – Socrates Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT August 30 – Read Your Writes Book Reviews – CHARACTER GUEST POST August 30 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews – REVIEW August 31 – Sarah Can't Stop Reading Books – REVIEW September 1 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT September 1 – fundinmental – SPOTLIGHT September 2 – Baroness Book Trove – REVIEW September 2 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT September 3 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT September 3 – Ascroft, eh? – AUTHOR INTERVIEW September 4 – Elizabeth McKenna - Author – SPOTLIGHT September 4 – Guatemala Paula Loves to Read – REVIEW~COMING SOON September 5 – MJB Reviewers -SPOTLIGHT September 5 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – REVIEW September 6 – Reading, Writing & Stitch-Metic – CHARACTER GUEAST POST, INDIVIDUAL GIVEAWAY September 6 – View from the Birdhouse – REVIEW September 7 – Ruff Drafts – AUTHOR GUEST POST September 8 – Cozy Up With Kathy – REVIEW September 9 – Mystery Thrillers and Romantic Suspense Reviews - SPOTLIGHT a Rafflecopter giveaway Have you signed up to be a Tour Host? Click Here to Find Details and Sign Up Today! Want to Book a Tour? Click Here Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. Receiving a complimentary copy in no way reflected my review of this book. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” “As an Amazon Associate, I earn a commission from qualifying purchases.” Read the full article

[wordsphrasessentencesparagraphs]

Notes from a book talk: Wicked Marigold

Got to sneak out to an event Friday night after work: Pittsburgh-based author Caroline Carlson read from Wicked Marigold, her new book, and then did a Q+A moderated by author Jonathan Auxier, who is also Pittsburgh-based. It’s pretty cool living in a community with such rich participants.

It reminded me of the Ben Folds live album with the Perth Symphony. At one point, he tells the crowd that all of his songs were arranged for the orchestra by local composers. “These songs are arranged by local composers. So there are people walking amongst you on the streets of Perth who know how to do stuff like this and I think that’s awesome.” How cool is that?

The talk was great: it covered questions like “how does Caroline come up with character names?” (by reading the newspaper and keeping an eye out for interesting words she’s never heard before) and what other books or writers influenced her along the way (she reads a lot of books, so it seems like kind of an amalgamation of all of them when she works, but she cited Kate DiCamillo and James Thurber’s 13 Clocks specifically, among others I didn’t catch).

And some of the questions got deep into the writing process, which I found really interesting. Here are the highlights from the notes I took:

Jokes!

-I like “having written, not writing. So I try to write something silly to enjoy the process. 

-4x the amount of jokes she thinks there should be in the book

-Craft. Caroline makes space for jokes and funny bits. It’s not as if it just happens, you have to spot where there’s space for one and then, like any other element of a story, you craft it into something that fits - beginning, middle, end.

My Takeaway Jokes don’t just happen. They’re not just opportunistic asides. They play a role in the story – give this section brevity, break the tension, give the character another angle of their personality, whatever – and then, like anything else, you need to sit down and shape it. Again, funny spots don’t just happen, you need to be intentional with them.

Flow/Structure/Pace

-Where does Caroline’s sense of flow/pace come from? Rhythm of stories she’s read. (Note to self: READ MORE BOOKS.) But has trouble figuring out where to begin the story, how much she can introduce before getting audience into the book so they don’t put it down. 

-She said you need to spend enough time at the beginning to give people a chance to meet the character - and care about what happens to them. (Was able to do it in about 10 pages)

Feedback

-When you ask for feedback, make sure the person you’re talking to understands what you’re going for. Are they a collaborator or just a commentator (who sees the version of X *they* want to see)?

Having Fun Writing

-Craft is good, but you need to enjoy it, not take it so seriously. 

My Takeaway I can absolutely get lost in The Task, which is a very serious and reverential thing. And I have that because I think if you want someone to read something you’ve written, you should put in the effort to take it seriously and put something in front of them that respects their time. Make sure it’s good. But I can quickly lose sight of the fun that writing brings. Because I write all day long at work, the work I do at home can be a break. It can all be fun. (Still respect the craft, but don’t pile on the pressure.)

Finally on that point, the manager of the bookstore (Riverstone Books in Squirrel Hill) made the final point: Kids need books that bring them joy and make them laugh, ones that are light and entertaining. Like Wicked Marigold, from Caroline Carlson.

[ceasarslegion]

Oh, boy! @general-luce @justfortalkingtofriends @onwardsandfourwords

So i should underline that I don't know exactly where this started, but I have a few personal theories based on what I've read of his and his online presence.

For those who don't know, years and years ago, when Twitter was still Twitter, SK had made a public statement regarding the then-new wave of book banning in the US where he said that if your school bans a book, to go to the nearest public library or book store and find out exactly what it is they don't want you to see and make your own conclusions. In this he included a graph of all the usual suspects of alt right Christian eye lasers: the hunger games, to kill a mockingbird, 1984, Harry potter, etc. JKR responded to this by saying that SK was one of her allies and said something to the effect of "im so glad that someone in our circles still has common sense" because she had equated his statement about how banning books is always bad regardless of what that book is to mean he was supporting her personal views. SK responded with a short and sweet "trans women are women" and then posted a screenshot showing she had blocked him. Objectively funny interaction

My personal theory is that this is where it all started. Because you don't exactly see the whole interaction if you follow someone and they never reply to the last thing someone said to them. If radfems had only seen the one sided view of SKs words through JKR, then they would naturally assume he was on their side.

But ever since then, there's been a weird... spike of radfems in the tags for SK works. Most notably, I've seen them hanging around the tags for The Shining, Carrie, and most often, Misery.

For those who don't know the book plots of these works, The Shining and Carrie focus a lot more on the systemic misogyny aspect of the abuse that Wendy and Carrie White face than their film adaptations do. Wendy is lulled into learned helplessness by being totally financially dependent on Jack after he saved her from an abusive family life, essentially meaning that she traded one abusive situation for another. In Carrie White's case, she's described explicitly as fat and unconventionally attractive for a young woman, which is portrayed as the main reason that she is abused by the other girls in school, and why pig's blood specifically was chosen to dunk her with at the prom. And a HUGE difference between book and movie in these ones is that in the books, SK's women have a lot more personal agency over their actions and are a lot less passive than they seem in their movies. Wendy is way more gung-ho about self-defense against Jack and Carrie White owns her psychic powers more; they drive their own story and actions rather than being people those actions happen to.

In the case of Misery, you can take that and multiply it by 100. A brief plot summary for those who don't know is that Paul Sheldon is an internationally famous author who made millions off of his victorian period romance/drama novels featuring the character Misery Chastain. He kills her off in his recent book because he's tired of being defined by what he terms as trashy romance books and wants to be a Serious Author. He gets in a car wreck and breaks both his legs, and a former nurse named Annie Wilkes drags him out and nurses him back to health. She claims to be his biggest fan and worships the ground he walks on, until the last Misery book releases and she reads her death. She keeps him locked up and tortures him into writing one last Misery novel just for her where she gets resurrected and they all live happily ever after. That's a very basic version of it, but just know that at one point she chops his foot off with a rusty axe for trying to escape and runs a rookie cop's head over with a lawn mower for trying to rescue him, and the only reason she doesnt shoot Paul in between the eyes and then herself is because he hasnt finished her book yet.

Annie Wilkes is also not described as the most attractive person in the world. This is not for any physical features beyond what you would expect from a book written in 1987, this is a combination of how Paul is a bit of misogynist with mommy issues that he ascribes to women as a group himself (heavily implied that his mother used to emasculate and beat him as a child), and how Annie doesn't take care of herself. She's described as gross more than ugly, like she doesn't bother to shower and leaves greasy dishes behind for weeks to grow mold and rot and Paul can smell it on her breath, or hear the rats scuttling in the basement. She was once also on trial for murder in Denver after a strange amount of NICU infants died under her care as a nurse, but was let off for lack of evidence. She's also very religious but in the way racist republicans are religious, so she essentially kills people and thinks it's justified because they were wicked and deserving of damnation. Many things can be read into there with the earlier things I mentioned.

Anyway, Annie has been... I don't know if "reclaimed" is the best word to use? She's been somethinged by radfems. I think most of us with basic reading comprehension can grasp why Paul's character would not exactly describe Annie in the most respectful or best of lights, considering she kidnapped and tortured him, kept him drugged up, killed a bunch of babies, forced him to write a book for her, chopped off his foot, locked him in a cellar with rats, and horrifically murdered the man who tried to rescue him. The TERFs do not grasp this very well. A common theme you'll see among them in the SK book fandom is that Annie Wilkes did nothing wrong and Paul deserved his torture and should've been murdered at the end of the book for his pretty run of the mill milquetoast 1980s misogyny. And that the way King describes Annie is in itself misogynist for describing a kidnapper and torturer in a negative light. There's many who have voiced that they actually felt bad for Annie by the end of the book and described King as "verbally battering" her. As if a few mean words towards again, a kidnapper and torturer as described from the POV of the guy she is kidnapping and torturing, are worse than the kidnapping and torturing.

There's also a few slurs within the book. I want to heavily underline here that these were dropped within the context of showing the flaws of the characters who said them in a horror novel, they weren't just thrown around for the sake of it. For example, Paul introduces a new black character in the book he writes for Annie because his characters go to Africa looking for an experimental cure for Misery's condition and most people tend to not be white in Africa. Annie actually likes this character a lot, and still very casually and without hesitation refers to him as the N word, which in the context of an otherwise relatively relaxed scene, is meant to make the reader flinch and feel uncomfortable, which draws attention to how Annie's poisonous worldviews infect the way she thinks of even the people she likes, reducing them down to inherently inferior even when they hold positive positions in her head. Also, someone like her is not exactly going to realistically use PC language. The discomfort is the point and it's additive to the novel at large. This is of course taken as though King himself approves of the use of these terms despite being vocally anti-racist and portraying racism as an element of HORROR, ie, something to be HORRIFIED by.

So here's some examples I found after 5 minutes of scrolling the Misery tags to prove I'm not fucking with you:

Why are the Stephen King tags so full of terfs when the man himself has been vocally pro trans and told JKR to fuck off