#it's still a really good book and I am glad it exists

[irisinluv]

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? Pt 2

Part one

It was almost 2 minutes before I realized I was still dragging the crown prince behind me. I quickly dropped his hand and looked at him, not able to hide the embarrassment on my face. Listen- I’m committed to the bit. I WILL be the crazy jealous fiancé. But… I’m still human ok. I just dragged a full grown man down several halls and a flight of stairs while I spaced out thinking about how I’m gonna buy my cat premium wet food once I get back home to her.

It’s fine, I’m not flustered at spacing out about my cat, my characters just flustered because she’s been holding the hand of the man she’s obsessed with, that’s all!

“Well…. Did you still want to dine and take that walk?”

I expected him to scold me for my mistreatment of Cressida, grow irritated from me dragging him along like this. Instead, he chuckles and threads his arm in mine, and begins escorting me down the hall.

“Absolutely, have you dined outside by the roses yet? There’s this lovely pavilion that I am eager to hear your thoughts on.”

And that’s how I found myself under an impressive array of roses, all trained up and around a cozy dining area, creating a canopy of green and pink over an intimate tea table. The food was equally impressive, I had to keep reminding myself that the other me is used to this lavish lifestyle, to not gawk at the fancy tiny sandwiches and deserts.

“Well? Is everything to your liking? ”

I’m going off script here, how am I supposed to know how the villainess would react to a romantic scene like this?? If my “evil crazy” side isn’t supposed to be directed at him, and she’s usually kinda distant and unsure around him…. That means I should probably respond pretty curtly, polite, yet not really engaging. But…. I’ve already messed that up…. I guess I can be more genuine when it’s the two of us like this. He can think that this version of me is the facade, that I’m pretending to be pleasant, and then will start to see what a jerk “I” truly am when Cressida’s around. Besides…. I almost feel bad for the villainess. She really just seems like she was shy. Who knows- maybe, if given the opportunity, she really would have opened up more. It’s clear she loved the prince, and just didn’t know how to show it. So, with that thought, I made up my mind.

“It’s breathtaking! Roses are my favorite flower, and I’ve never seen so many kinds in bloom at once…. Plus the food and company leave little to be desired.”

There you go- slip in some subtle flirting! I’m not quite sure what time period this is supposed to be, but I get the impression flirting as bit more high class here, and I think I can have some fun with that.

“I’m glad, to be honest I was a bit flustered asking you to dine with me… you caught me quite off guard today, but in a good way.” He reaches his hand across the table and places it on my own, “I’d like to do this more often, you and I. I feel like the confines of our current arrangement have left us practically strangers, despite being engaged for several months already. I’m enjoying just being companionable with you, even if it’s just existing comfortably in the same room.”

Ohhhh, I know I’m the villain in this story but I can’t help but root for him- what a sweetheart! It’s so obvious he’s been lonely, I can’t wait for him and Cressida to fall in love and have a couple of kids that they’ll spoil rotten. And in the meantime…. Maybe I do have a bit of evil in me, because I’m going to selfishly enjoy this handsome man treating me to lunches under roses and reading in cozy libraries while I can.

“I know exactly how you feel your highness. Now, you mentioned a walk?”

We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting, and it felt nice to chat without worrying too much about my role. He asked me about that book I picked out earlier, and listened attentively as I caught him up with where I’m at in the plot. In turn, I asked about what papers he’s been signing, documents he’s been drafting, etc.

The only thing I had to do was send glares to any young ladies we passed, settling my hand on his arm possessively, and I saw their eyes widen and faces disappear behind fans as they whisper to one another. I can picture this illustrated in a manhwa- the nasty princess sinking her claws into the gullible prince… hopefully all these ladies will start gossiping and we can really cement this evil persona of mine now that Cressida’s here.

When we returned to our separate apartments, I explored my rooms a bit until servants came to get me ready for dinner, and I slipped back into the frigid bitch persona. The servant girls dressed me in a slightly stuffy gown, but I had to admit, I looked gorgeous. I sat stiff and straight as they did my hair, forcing myself to be the very picture of cold indifference. I then dismissively thanked them for their help, then sat there awkwardly as they stared at me like I was crazy.

Ohhhh shit…. The original story hadn’t prepared me for this. My character was a villain, yes, but a side character for the most part! How was she supposed to act towards her servants? I went over what I knew- the novel showed the villainess alone quite often, usually obsessing over Eric and plotting/stalking. It showed her with Eric, and how distant and awkward their relationship was when together. And then of course the numerous scenes with Cressida where the Villainess did all sorts of heinous things to the sweet girl. But… it never depicted her with servants, or even any friends or other nobles. Just… Eric and Cressida. Was other me not actually a bitch all the time? Am I being unnecessarily rude right now? Oh god I’m such an idiot.

The story is told through Cressida’s point of view- of course there’s more depth to my own character than I initially thought! The Villianess must be a misunderstood introvert! Unsure of how to act around her crush, she’s fiercely insecure and jealous of this new girl who doesn’t struggle the same way she does. When she notices the prince slipping from her grasp, she acts out against Cressida because she can’t bear to lose Eric!

As someone’s who’s worked minimum wage jobs and struggled with social anxiety most of my life, I try to be nice to the people just working to survive, but here I am acting like these poor women are the dirt beneath my shoe…. Ok. Um. Well they’re still standing there in shock, I can fix this….

“You really did a lovely job… my hair has never looked so gorgeous, you’re truly talented! And I think the prince will be very pleased with this choice of ribbon!”

There- I was nicer, and I brought it back to Eric, so I’m still the lovesick fiancé whose entire world is waiting for her in the dining room. I frowned as the servants scuttled out of the room with hurried excuses, all of them looking like they were about to faint. Damn it… I can’t believe I misread the relationship between us. I probably just ruined their night by being uncharacteristically rude. I’ve gotta learn their names next time…. Maybe ask them to help me eat some fancy pastries as an apology…?

I didn’t know it, but while I was lamenting how wrong I was about the Villainess’ character, the servants were all gossiping to the others about what had just transpired.

“You’re telling me she said THANK YOU!?”

“Yes!!! And then you should have seen how nervous she got! She just rambled, blurting out such a sweet compliment, and she even tied it back to the prince!”

“I had no idea how precious she was… I can’t believe I never realized she’s just shy! In a new place, all alone aside from her new fiancé…. Who I gather she’s got a bit of a crush on! Poor dear.”

“Ohh our sweet girl, I’m sure it must be hard bonding with the prince, when all you do is sit yards apart and hardly speak …”

“Well I may have some news about that… and it’s no wonder she was a bit flustered today, because I saw the two of them in the gardens today! They were both nothing but smiles- absolutely smitten with one another!”

“Such a lovely girl, and we never knew it all this time!”

Apparently, I had it backwards. The real villainess truly was a 2D, basic character. She was insecure and possessive over the prince, bullying Cressida half to remind her who Eric belonged to, half for the fun of it. But she didn’t let on to anyone about the true depth of her love for him. She didn’t gossip to her handmaid, didn’t ask the servants which dress he would like better. Simply acted as if they did not exist, hardly saying a word to them.

While I thought my blunt “thank you” was colder than they were used to, and then tried to smooth things over…. It was more words than they’d heard from me in the whole time I’d lived in the palace. They lapped it up and declared me their own shy little dove after that.

When I arrived to dinner, I realized why daily dinners weren’t exactly a bonding activity for the villainess and Eric. The table was massive, and only held two chairs, one at either end. It felt so…. Cold?

Eric had beat me there, and quickly stood up from his seat, waiting until I sat and a servant pushed in my chair to retake his own seat. He smiled at me and said,

“Good evening, princess.”

He had to project his voice slightly. It wasn’t like he was shouting or being loud, it was just the manner of speaking you use when talking to an elderly relative, clearer, and enunciating better so they could hear you.

I replied back, projecting my voice similarly, and found the conversation was, in fact, more awkward than it had been earlier. We ate our food mostly in silence, occasionally one of us would say something and the other would stop moving their utensils on their plate, listening closer as they ask,

“What’s that?”

By the time dinner was over and we each went to bed, I felt drained. I could have just been louder I suppose- but it’s so hard to keep up a conversation like that. I know we get along- we had chatted all afternoon after all. But some part of me realized it’s probably good to keep a bit of distance between us, even if I’ve rewritten things to be a bit chummier between the two of us. Cressida needs to swoop in and steal him from me… and my job is still to leave that room for her to do so.

It’s hard trying to be someone else, yet also making sure you lead the plot in the right direction- it’s exhausting! I feel like both director and actress!

It’s with this in mind that I launch myself into the softest bed I’d ever felt, and passed out. My first day as princess consort, the Yandere fiancé, complete.

While I was getting acquainted with my feather bed, Eric was speaking with the head waitstaff.

“Yes, tomorrow, would you mind adjusting the seating situation? I’d like for the princess consort and I to be closer together from now on. Yes, and ask my assistant to arrange my schedules like so, I’ve detailed it here. Thank you.”

At the same time, Cressida was recounting her run in with the prince and I to her handmaiden as she finishing unpacking and settling into her family’s guest apartments. Which, unbeknownst to me… was right across the hall.

Series discontinued- sorry my loves. Ik y’all wanted more but the good news is that I’ve seen several really talented authors picking up this idea and executing it wayyyy better than my sporadic mood writing ever could.

[ilyrafe]

after seeing so much one direction content these past couple of days, it got me thinking. one direction really was the last boyband to ever happen. no one will ever come close to what they did in only six years. it’s a once in a generation kind of thing to happen. they didn’t even win the x factor and ended up being the show’s biggest act, 14 years later.

yes, they were manufactured, but at the same time, they were the least manufactured band to ever exist in recent times. they didn’t dance, they weren’t actually meant to be a band, they got everything they had because of charisma and talent. these boys were so talented and charismatic. they didn’t really dress the same, they were working class teenagers with a dream and they did it. and it was beautiful.

after seeing their statements, it’s finally downing on me that one direction is really over and i will never see all five of them together again. 11 year old me is absolutely devastated, and so is 24, almost 25 year old me.

the fangirl in me never went anywhere, it turns out. i still have my 1d concert tickets (the only one i went to and zayn was still in the band!), my albums and dvds, books, theater tickets and every once in a while i would take them out of the box and reminisce of the good old days, never thinking i would mourn one of them so soon. i genuinely thought i would be way older when they would go.

i can’t help but feel so sad that liam’s last years were so erratic and horrible. he was hurting deeply and he deeply hurt other people, and there is no excuse for what he did. i mourn what he once was, what he could have been and how it all ended up being. i take maya’s allegations seriously and i encourage you to do the same. what she is going through right now is impossible to imagine.

for those saying they’re glad “an abuser died”, think about what you’re saying. his death helps no one. his victims will never get justice, he will not take accountability for his actions. no one will ever get closure.

for those saying they feel bad for hating or mocking him, you really should. he was called an opportunist for showing up at the boys’ concerts and yet, when harry would do it, everyone loved it.

liam wasn’t perfect, he fucked up a lot, but like anyone, he had the right to, at the very least, apologize. 31 is too young, and no one deserves to go like this.

all i think about is his little son, who will grow up without his dad. no kid should ever lose their parent, especially at such an young age. the fact that he never once exposed his son to the media (like many celebrities do) to protect his privacy tells me that he loved his boy and knew all too well the damage this exposure would cause.

i saw that some 1d songs are trending again, and as much as i would love to take the day to listen to them, it is too soon. i haven’t been able to watch friends since matthew perry died, haven’t been able to watch brooklyn 99 since andre bragher died and will not be able to listen to 1d for a while.

it’s too soon.

call me dramatic, i don’t really care. the most magical part of my adolescence has ended tragically and i am really at a loss.

for those who are conflicted as i am, take your time. it is okay to be sad he’s gone and, at the same time, feel disappointed or even angry. it is okay to mourn and, at the same time, support maya.

edit: i would also like to express my support to his parents, sisters, cheryl, kate and friends.

[doruwuwei]

I'm done watching the first two Murderbot (!show) episodes (twice) and here are a few things we got that I loved and some that I didn't love so much. All in good spirits! I was very excited and still am!

(⚠️ SPOILERS AHEAD!!! ⚠️)

- Pin Lee's "For fuck's sake, Ratthi".

- Mensah being level-headed and amazing.

- Ratthi. Just Ratthi being Ratthi.

- Gu Gu???? Omg

- the fact that they managed to keep it mysterious and interesting and exciting even for readers of the books.

- The depiction of the alien remnants.

- The reason why the line SecUnit says to arada in the crater sounded so stiff in the trailer being that it lifted it verbatim from an episode of Sanctuary Moon?!

- Gurathin being reluctantly (not reluctantly) loved

- Arada. Delightful Arada.

- The moment when Baradwaj enters the hopper and the whole scene feels like a horror show just for her to be like "OMG hiii".

- Dr. "I guess I'll close the fucking door" Gurathin.

- SecUnit's veiled not so veiled threats to Gurathin when he was being an absolute asshole.

- Gurathin correcting Arada (twice) when she calls Murderbot "he". He may be an asshole, but he will use your correct pronouns. Also maybe objectification. He is an asshole.

- SecUnit saying "Gurathin" with actual visceral rage.

- They painted the habitat AND PUT RUGS ON THE FLOR.

- RATTHI MAKES HIS OWN JEWELLERY

- THE SKY HAS COLOURS

- Arada's little animalist tangent.

- Mensah and Baradwaj bickering about their specialty fields' importance.

- Gurathin being awkward with Mensah.

- SecUnit trying to flee discretely whenever the humans stop looking at or talking to it for 3 seconds.

- SecUnit walking barefoot into the crew area.

- The THEME MUSIC FOR SANCTUARY MOON GAVE ME GOOSEBUMPS.

- Us seing Mensah's children and them being all so very different hinting at some kind of different family configuration.

- We get to see the emotional toll this is taking on Mensah much more clearly.

- Ratthi is clearly a hugger.

- WORLD HOPPERS??? First hint at ART!! (Not really, I know. But I'm starved).

- FIRST OH SHIT MOMENT

Things I didn't like so much:

- The amount of time SecUnit is forced to be exposed without its armour or even clothes. Felt unfair. Although I suppose it was meant to make us feel uncomfortable. Just as much as it is.

- The cubicle design.

- No abort commands on the rescue(?)

- I don't know why they made SecUnit stay at the habitat for the recognizance trip. I wanted to see it herding the humans away from hazard markers.

- Ratthi flirting (???) with MB(?) Idk I may have misunderstood this one.

- Gurathin forcing MB to make eye contact. That was so cruel. But I guess it's getting more reasons to at some point tell him "I don't like you". And it will be delightful.

In summary: I'm liking it! I think it has a lot of potential and I'm glad this exists so that more people will know of the books. I'm having fun watching it and it won't change the love I have for the novels.

I just love seeing my favourite people in situations. And FULL COLOUR!

Hope you guys have fun watching and feel free to scream at me about it!

[butterflydm]

Additional WoT 3x04 thoughts

That was so good. Okay, now that I've gotten some sleep, some more thoughts. spoilers for the show through 3x04 and for the books through the fires of heaven

Rand's journey through the columns kinda washed it away for me at the time, but I did really love the beginning with Rand and Lan, and us getting some insight into what Rand is getting out of his training sessions with Lan, and the ways in which Lan is treating him like an adult capable of making his own choices, and Rand's reservations about any potential relationship he might have to the Aiel people.

Of course, we the audience know that Lan is still keeping Moiraine's secrets for her (including that time she let Rand and all his friends get attacked by Lanfear), but I don't think Rand ever forgets that Lan is Moiraine's Warder.

We got two transformative journeys for relationships last night and I'm glad that they gave those two moments to Rand & Aviendha near the beginning and the end of the episode, and the way that Aviendha looked at him at the end! (and how she ran away from him lol oh baby, run as hard as you can but you can't outrun wanting to bang that man like a house shingle in a storm). Her straight-up picking a fight with him at the beginning because him using a sword so close to Rhuidean reminds her that she's wearing weapons when she knows that she's been called to be a Wise One but she ran away from her duty instead of following her duty to her people! Everything that we had with Rand and Aviendha was so perfect.

And the other one, of course, being the journey that Rand and Moiraine took together. So, I mentioned last night that I do get why they didn't want Mat there... I love Mat's story in the Waste, with Rand, but Mat being there does (I am reluctantly forced to admit) undercut the specific character and relationship arcs that we are currently undergoing with Rand and that we probably need to undergo with Rand in order to get him where he needs to be with his relationships in the future. Mat being there means we need to carve out a third storyline in Rhuidean. Mat being there means that Lanfear needs to haunt him too (trying to drive him away from Rand) the way that she's haunting Egwene, or else her entire premise (I'm the Only One Who Cares About You, Rand) falls completely to pieces. Show!Mat, especially, is genuinely such an amazing friend that he completely destroys Lanfear's manipulation attempts simply by existing near Rand, and this story that they're telling, where Rand might potentially believe Lanfear when she says that no one would love him if they knew the truth about him, gets a harder shake if Mat is there trying to lift his spirits. Egwene is in the same sort of dark place that Rand is (in part because of Lanfear torturing her every night to keep her there) and Rand also has so much guilt surrounding his relationship with her, both elements that aren't there in his friendship with Mat.

So, yeah, I get it.

But I do really hope that we get our s4 (and s5+) so that we can have Mat back in Rand's storyline and making him smile again. <3

Rand and Moiraine did go on a very transformative journey, both together and separate. I loved how we see at the beginning exactly why Rand is wary with her, and yet how Moiraine can sincerely believe she has "done nothing but help him" even though we've literally seen her sit and do nothing while he and his friends were calling for help in 3x01. Their moments at Avendasora together, and Rand realizing how connected their threads have been, with her uncle being the one who set into motion the events that led to his birth on Dragonmount. And then their looks toward each other at the end of the episode. Definitely very interested to see what they will have to say to each other in 3x05!

I loved all the interactions that we saw Rand having with all the Aiel characters! That was all so good. We got some really great stuff, and it was pretty book-accurate but it was translated to screen so well. Amys-with-a-Bair-nametag was great; Melaine was great, Sevenna was great (...a sentence I would never say about book!Sevenna); Couladin was great, etc and so forth! I loved all the interactions.

The horror of the thousand-thousand futures was really well done -- to start with a future that seemed happy but that would doom the world (Moiraine a happy fishwife, smiling at Siuan) to the futures where Lanfear kills her in so many different ways. You really can feel that there's only a narrow path forward that Moiraine needs to forge. We know that we're going to get Moiraine talking to Lan about the rings (presumably in 3x05) so I'm interested to see what else she tells him that we didn't already see in the trailers. We saw so many different ways she tried to guide Rand (and they DID include the one where she and Rand became lovers, I noticed!) and so many ways it ended in death and doom.

Moiraine straight-up stealing the strongest sa'angreal in the world from the Aiel people! Definitely in character but girl, damn! And that was before she saw any of the futures, so it wasn't even her thinking that she would need it for something specific in a future vision.

And the centerpiece of the episode. Rand's journey into the past. It was so good.

I'm really glad that we got the scenes with Janduin! "Shade of my heart!" Him telling her that they'd won, desperately cupping her face but not feeling any warmth. That was so heartbreaking. Giving Rand this moment in particular was a good way for the show to lead into Rand being more deeply affected by the columns than he was in the books, because this mirrors the grief that he saw his father (Tam) go through when they lost his mother (Kari). It instantly gave him a point of connection that he could deeply relate to -- as his adoptive father loved and lost his wife too soon, his blood father loved and lost his wife too soon. Seeing and feeling how deeply his mother was loved, and how deeply his own absence was felt by his father, it gives him a starting connection to his bloodline that we're able to trace through to his previous ancestors.

The formation of Rhuidean, and seeing ancient Latra. The last of the Aes Sedai from the Age of Legends (who isn't a Forsaken trapped in a seal). Gorgeous. And we also once again the reinforcement of "shade of my heart" as an endearment.

Lewin! I saw someone calling him hobbit!Rand and, yes! There were definite hobbit vibes going on with his hair. This vision was truly the formation of the Aiel as who they are today. I am going to say, I kinda like that the show didn't feel the need to call out the moment when the Maidens first picked up the spear, because that just makes it feel more assumed that, yeah, just as some men decided to make this choice, women started deciding it too.

This whole sequence was so heartbreaking! And I definitely noticed that they made Lewin's friends reminiscent of Mat & Perrin. The scene between Lewin and his mother at the end is so much. "I had a son with a face like that once. I do not want to see it on a killer."

I feel like this specific moment in time is the one that kills so many Aiel who try to go through the columns. Learning that their entire way of life is based on breaking their oaths to be committed to peace. That what they believed was a noble thing about not touching swords is actually a last desperate attempt to hold onto any remaining honor after losing the Way of the Leaf.

Poor Jonai, struggling with the Way of the Leaf and remaining firm to it, as the Tuatha'an choose to break their ancestors' oaths and abandon their duty to safeguard what the Aes Sedai left them. I really like the connection we had with Adan his grandson being a small boy in this one, and then being Lewin's grandfather in the vision just before it. That really helped with a sense of emotional continuity. Adan's entire life was this journey to the east! Bookended by loss and violence and yet Adan never wavered in his own commitment to the Way of the Leaf.

And I had originally thought that our queer!Rand ancestor was Jonai, but I don't believe he got a name, and I think he was Jonai's grandfather. What a wonderful surprise he was. I adored his scene with Latra, and getting to see Josha do entire scenes in the Old Tongue was such a delight. Every one of the ancestors felt so sharply drawn and unique, but this one in particular really really drew me in even before we found out he was queer, though that definitely helped me feel even more connected to him <3 <3

He's so quiet and sincere and earnest. Committed to his duty and the honor that it brings him. Reminds me of Warders, in a way (with much less fighting lol), instead of the kind of generational servitude that original Aiel were in the books. And seeing how futuristic the wagons were, comparing to the wooden wagons that we see two generations later with Jonai!

And we end with Charn, speaking to Mierin and seeing the Bore, and catching a glimpse of the Dark One!

This scene was so good! We once again saw Charn's devotion and his genuine joy in his work, like we did with his descendant -- he seemed interested in what Mierin Sedai was saying about finding a source of power that anyone could use, but mentioned that he wouldn't want to use it to bring the harvest in, because he finds value and joy in doing it with his own hands.

I loved the way that the Bore looked. It really did look like a crack in reality.

And Mierin was great. She was warm and kind with Charn, but there were hints there of what would grow to consume her in the future -- her telling Charn the importance of not letting go of the ones you love... actually, Mierin, you definitely should let them go if they break up with you and marry someone else! That's definitely the point at which you should let them go!

I am very curious if Mierin will come up the next time Rand talks to Lanfear.

The journey of the tree throughout the episode! How the object of power rested inside its branches as it was small, as it waited for Latra to find it again. I really like how Latra was the one who created Rhuidean! And how devastating it must have been to her, to see what the Aiel had become, after we saw the relationship that she had with the Aiel when she was younger, during the very beginnings of the breaking of the world. And this also shows us the lifespan of how long powerful Aes Sedai could live, and how many 'normal' lives it spans.

What a brilliant episode.

[seraphicloves]

𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒍𝒅?

⊱✿⊰ summary: the overblot aftermath except yuu has my personality lmao

⊱✿⊰ warnings: book 2 spoilers, lowkey bullying leona (but nice), yuu is reader, fully self indulgent, fluffy tho, like a few refs to reader being small cuz im smaller than even ruggie so yeah. Thats like the only physical depictor i think

⊱✿⊰ notes: i had this dream last night and boom bam i made this. I think its preppy and also its lit ny personality and also leona is like 😍

your eyes slowly fluttered open, the bright fluorescents adding to the dull ache in your head. as your vision adjusted you realized you had quite a few people surrounding you. ace and deuce and jack and grim? what happened...?

"what happened?" you muttered out, sitting up in the...cot? you were in the infirmary but why? the last thing you could remember was playing the special round of spelldrive and grim mentioned something about a special move.

"at the beginning of the second half grim threw the disc at your noggin and knocked you out." ace answered barely concealing his snort, "don't you remember?"

"no i don't remember." you grumbled, narrowing your eyes in a glare. ace gave you an apologetic smile that you weren't sure held any real sorry in it.

"i was trying to aim for victory!" grim exclaimed, pumping his fist up. he smiled widely at you and plopped into your lap. despite your annoyance you curled your arms around him, letting him snuggle into your chest.

"you amateurs need to work on your throwing skill." jack replied with an eyeroll.

deuce quickly interjected with a gentle smile, hoping to ease any tensions that might appear. "i for one am glad you're awake! i was scared the hit did some real damage."

"true, you were asleep so long you even missed the closing ceremonies. they're taking everything down now." ace said, still trying not to laugh. evem through your annoyance you couldn't really blame him. it did sound kind of funny that you got hit by a disc because of grim's terrible throw.

"which dorm won?" you asked suddenly, words falling from your lips hurriedly, "how did savanaclaw do?"

even with leona being so underhanded you still wanted him to get what he wanted. he just wanted to feel like he was good enough, something you could relate to heavily. you hoped none of them could tell the way your face warmed with your rambles. maybe you could blame it on pain meds..if this place even had them.

suddenly that growly rumble of a voice filled your ears, leona saying, "diasomia won, unsurprisingly."

your eyes jumped to where leona was, him and ruggie in cots side by side. leona looked goregous, with his long hair still braided and a few bandages scattered across his dark tanned skin. you really ought to focus instead of fangirling over his looks like a silly school girl.

"there was nothing we could do to stop it." ruggie added with a sigh, looking slightly more healed now, "it didn't help that we took a beating from every other dorm before we got to them."

you winced sympathetically, unsurprised the other dorms had gotten their revenge out during the game. even still you felt bad, but perhaps that was your annoyingly empathetic heart talking.

"housewarden! ruggie!" jack exclaimed, turning his body around to see the others in their cots. you slowly sat up, ignoring your dizziness in favor of getting the chance of getting closer to leona. you are surely going insane, why were you wanting to comfort leona after everything he did? why were you wishing to kiss his hurt away in front of your friends no less.

leona tsked, his arms crossed over his hardened chest as he said, "being stuck in the infirmary for anything other than a mid-day nap is about as lame as it gets."

his eyes wandered over to you and you felt your body warm, self conscious about the way you look. you could feel that your hair was a bit tangled and your clothes were slightly frumpled, making you wish leona would suddenly forget you existed. did he think you look bad? you looked at your hands, trying to cease your racing heart.

"and what's worse? none of the diasomia kids ended up here." ruggie pouted, his ears flattening aganist the top of his head. you felt your lips quirk in amusement, finding the small boy's annoyance kinda cute. he reminded you of your friends from your world (though that thought suddenly made your heart feel heavy.)

ace nodded and started talking about the head of the diasomia dorm, apparently being a major powerhouse. you didn't doubt it, seeing as half the guys at this school were insanely large or annoyingly good at magic. they still scared you, seeing as you were neither of those things.

"with that attitude you're never going to beat them." jack said with his fist clenched, all good old determination, "i didn't beat them but i will next year! i'll do anything it takes."

"does 'anything' include your capacity for evil?" leona asked with a slightly malicious grin. you felt mildly deranged for wanting to kiss it off of his face.

"have you learned nothing?" you asked, fighting the urge to get closer. once his grin widened, deliciously evil glint in those pretty brown eyes you felt your resolve wavering.

so you did get a bit closer, sitting on the chair beside his cot. he didn't seem displeased with your proximity as he said, "i didn't realize this was an after school special."

you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled past your lips, eyes lighting up with amusement. he was insufferably wonderful. "i didn't realize you knew so much about those after-school specials."

ruggie interrupted with his infamous laugh, making you feel suddenly aware of the way you were sort of flirting with leona. you backed up and looked shyly away, grateful your friends didn't seem to notice the way you had been half tempted to settle your and leona's debate with kisses.

"there's the leona i know!" ruggie said, making jack roll his eyes. jack reminded you of captain america if he was part of the omegaverse, but the boy's brain might explode if you tried explaining that to him..

"i can already tell this won't end well." jack muttered with a slight shake of his head. you felt your lips curve into a grin at the same time as leona. even though you most definitely didn't want leona try to cheat his way to the top you also liked his...ambition. you were far gone.

deuce, ace, and grim chimed in talking about how they wanted to play in the tournament for real next year. a small part of yourself wondered if you'd still be around by next year or if crowley would have found a way home for you by then. then you quietly wondered whether you would return to your old life or stay in your new one.

suddenly a little boy with red hair bounced into the room, jumping onto leona without a care in the world. your eyes widened, surprised by the freaking kindergartener entering the infirmary. he was adorable and sort of reminded you of your younger cousins, who were all around his age.

"unca! there you are! i finally found you!" the child giggled, hugging up close to leona. leona looked shocked for a moment before his face relaxed to his usual pissed off look and he hugged the kid back.

"unca leona...?" jack mumbled, matching your confusion. all the boys seemed equally confused that this tiny person was calling leona uncle and cuddling up to him without getting beat into a pulp.

"this is cheka, my brother's son...my nephew." leona explained boredly, ruffing the boy's hair. your eyes widened, reeling at the sudden revelation.

"so this is the next in line for the throne." ruggie said in a low tone, amusement filling his expression. you were still shocked this adorable little baby was leona's nephew.

"unca! i saw you play, you were sooo cool!" cheka giggled, his hands tapping against leona's shoulder in a badly attempt at rhythm, "teach me how to play pleaseeeeee!"

"fine, fine just stop screaming in my ear." leona grumbled, plucking cheka off his body and putting him down. which made cheka notice everybody around, particularly you.

the tiny redhead ran to you, jumping onto your lap. he was very similar to your cuddly baby brother so it was easy to just wrap your arms around cheka and let him hug you. you giggled, amused by leona's nephew.

leona was about to protest, and you could have sworn you saw a light dusting of pink across his cheeks. it gave you the smallest glimmer of pride, close enough to the third year that you saw the tiniest details.

"so the source of all leona's anguish is..." jack began, struggling to understand what was happening. everybody was to be quite frank.

"this innocent angel." you finished for him, ruffling cheka's hair. cheka giggled and squirmed in your arms, eyes wide and happy as he looked at you.

"shuddap, all of you." leona grumbled, "stop gawking."

you grinned and couldn't help the way you decided to sit on his cot beside him. you were small enough that you could fit on the bed at his side. cheka seemed happy by this decision because he could now crawl freely between you both.

despite leona's annoyance, he wrapped his arms around your waist to prevent you from falling off the cot. ruggie raised his eyebrows in silent shock, probably surprised to see his big scary upperclassmen cuddle with the random girl who just appeared at the school.

cheka rambled incessantly, asking questions and talking to leona. cheka seemed to idolize leona, making you wonder if he realized that. does leona know how much cheka loves him?

ruggie was laughing like a maniac at the new side of leona they had all discovered, probably wanting to use this as blackmail. you did think it was funny, but it was also freaking adorable seeing leona so soft. leona nuzzled his face into your shoulder, glaring at the first and second years all laughing their heads off.

"are these your friends?" cheka asked, turning around to look at them all. then he looked back at you, "is she your girlfriend?"

"oh for sure. we're besties with leona." ace grinned, even happier when cheka asked about your relationship with leona. you felt your cheeks warm, lips opening to deny the assumption.

but leona didn't give you a chance as he grumbled, "i won't forget about this."

though the boys were still amused they decided to leave, laughing and talking about "unca leona". the older boy glowered, tightening his hold on your body. hell even ruggie left, feelinf well enough to leave the infirmary for a moment.

"you gonna marry her?" cheka asked, bouncing on leona's stomach. leona groaned and pulled the kid off of him, so he wasn't treating the third year like a jungle gym. cheka glanced at you and added, "what's your name?"

"my name is [name] but everybody calls me yuu." you said, ignoring his first question and especially ignoring the way your heart throb at the idea. it was silly, you were a teen and thinking about marrying leona.

leona also ignored the first question just mumbling out a quiet, "furball always trying to start stuff..."

suddenly cheka jumped up, hearing the voices of his attendants. the little redhead ran away as quickly as he came, probably going to cause more chaos. he really was lucky he was so adorable...and the fact he was a prince.

being alone with leona made you acutely aware of the way he was cuddling you. his arms wrapped around your waist and his tail curling around your shin. he was warm, his firm body pressed aganist your back in such a comforting way.

"i didn't say this earlier," he began, his low timbre full of the beginnings of sleepiness, "but im sorry for hurting you when i overblotted. i didn't mean for you to get involved."

you blinked with surprise, your heart stalling as a lump in your throat. maybe he really did feel remorse for what he did, the thought sending a flutter of excitement through your tummy.

slowly you turned so your front was against his, faces inches away. you were both laying down on the small cot, his strong arms keeping you steady and grounded.

with that delightful dizziness in your head, you leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. he froze, soft gasp of surprise falling from him. his arms tightened around you, squeezing the skin on your waist.

"its okay, leona. i'm not mad." you replied softly, gifting him your forgiveness like you were sent straight from god. not that you knew if he even had a god in his world. perhaps even without a god, you wondered if he knew how to worship one. if he might worship you like you were one.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[snowneedsanap]

What Lurks

The Merman's Cove // Poly!Mermay!141 x Afab!Human!Reader // Ch. 2

Tags|Warnings // Reader is Afab with she/her pronouns, this is eventually a poly ending but starts with a Kyle/Johnny fic for the beginning, the boys are feral hunters, reader doesn't like fish (this is important to the plot line), I don't care if it isn't MerMay anymore I want Mermen, Reader is human interacting with feral beasts of the deep, protective mermen, biting, marking, clawing, Reader def has daddy issues, real slowburn baby, i think monster fucking if you consider it?, drowning, mentions of death, mentions of death of a family member. author is trying to use regional dialect (i’m southern and don’t know shit), not proofread!!!

A/N // i'm so glad to see people still like mermen! this is a little bit heavier, since it contains reader's background. i am looking for muts btw :> this is long. i need some writers help too, i won't lie. plz give me proper feedback it will be appreciated

No, it absolutely, couldn't possibly be, not in anyway or anyhow does a fucking merman exist. But you saw one. All the fucking fairytales and stories you thought your father made up as jokes just for funsies, but nope! Oh yeah, the mystical creatures that are half fish half man that are larger than bull shark--no, whale sharks, are real. Absolutely fuckin' mental.

And mother nature is crying a sob story right outside the cove, where you're crouched over with the cover of the rocks barely keeping you dry. Unprepared as always, despite knowing you live in a wet environment. A small beat up pickup truck happens to just drive by, windshield wipers on frantically swiping back and forth and splashing you in the process. Saying, "fuck it," you book it to the passenger side with a swing of the door and a following slam. You sigh, looking over to the driver, your father. You sigh, somewhat drenched but relatively dry. Your dad hands you a towel.

While you dry off you sigh, having gone through so many emotions all at once, your father speaks up as he puts the truck in drive.

"Seen any otters?" His deep voice rumbles alongside the rain that pummels on the top of the hood. Thinking of the mohawk merman, you just nod and stutter. "Y-yeah. They were... clingy." You make up a short lie, obviously not being very good at it. He catches on.

"You didn't see any otters, did ya."

It wasn't a question. He knows something. He knows that you've seen it.

You didn't want to lie, but you almost felt like that hook that was caught in that merman's gills was the fishermen's fault out at sea. While not directly your father's fault, he knows of the urban legends, he spends his days at sea, and his sea-mates most likely talk the hottest gossip to hit the small coastal city.

But if you talk, you risk them knowing that there is something out there, you risking them knowing, hunting, a creature that does not need to be hunted. You continue with the lie.

“Yeah. I did. It was just one though… just wouldn’t stop squeaking and crying for more mackerel. I swear, one of those otters are going to be the death of me one day,” You chuckle lightly, hopefully that plays off with the lie.

Your father buys it, smiling and chuckling lightly along. “You love those otters so much why don’t you join them in the ocean?” He jokes along, to which you laugh lightly too, knowing this lie will go on for way too long. You move on for this, since it stresses you out way too much.

“How was work?” You ask, genuinely wanting to catch up.

“Interesting, to say the least. One of the boys caught a massive tuna after losing an expensive bait. Like the sea was sorry about that hook,” He carries on, then starts to blab on about why the hook was so expensive to who lost it to then it sparking a whole debate of someone stealing it, really you just wanted to go home and eat dinner and forget about the whole mess. With the mention of the lost bait, you can’t help but think on the hook stuck inside that merman’s gills. The hook was all that was left, he couldn’t have possibly been caught on one of your father’s set-mate’s lines? God, you didn’t even know anything about mermay life in general. What language did they speak? What was life like? Did they have, mer-children? No, that’s ridiculous. What the hell were you thinking about?

Genuinely, what the fuck was going on?

Finally arriving home, you immediately jump out and go inside, begging to find some answers on the internet. But answers are few and slim, and the ones available are all silly conspiracies. Except when you pull up a PDF of a newspaper cut out. The headline read, “Ireland Woman convinced of Mermen life, abandons newborn and husband.” No fucking way.

You zoom into the small text, but it’s poor quality. But then you read the name, the one of your mother’s. This… no! This was just a silly lie. Right? Right…?

You get off the internet for the night. You felt like you were going crazy. You didn’t know anything about your mom, just knowing that she died when you were born. Your father barely spoke of her. Just only said that she loved the sea. Maybe she loved it too much.

No, you didn’t want to believe it. Pressing on about it with your father would just bring in more utter confusion, more stress, all of that which you don’t need right now. Thank the heavens it was summer and you didn’t have to do any online college classes right now.

But what meant as your summer hideout may now be where those mermen lie. And you don’t want the attention, nor do you want anything to do with those fishy creatures. The last thing you wanted was to be surrounded by the one thing you hate, except, you already were. You begged to your ancestors to kidnap you and take you away from this hellish place.

Sitting back in bed, your elderly chubby calico cat Grunchy, that was named when you were a child, hops up onto the bed, sitting right by your legs and purrs like a motorboat. You sigh, grabbing her and placing her on your chest. Maybe some of those healing frequencies that you’ve heard that cats produced will take all of this sudden overwhelming information.

Your dad knocks on your door to drop off chicken strips and crisps in a plastic bag right by your door, to which you eye but enjoy the cat time. Grunchy starts to lick your nose, her nasty ass breath stinks so you take that as a sign to feed her and feed yourself.

Tsking the familiar meal out and eating it the way you enjoyed, when your father stood right in the door unannounced with a straight face.

"What the fuck did you see this afternoon?" He asks once more, to which you swivel in your chair with a mouthful of chicken tenders.

"Fuc'uf mean?" You ask sincerely, but wanting him to get off your back.

"I want you to stay away from that cove. There's been some strange sightings lately of... sharks. Don't even think about swimming either. Shits dangerous.....Al'righ, love ya," and he shuts the door abruptly. You know he doesn't mean that. He just doesn't want you around the "sharks".

Whatever.

Finishing up eating your meal to then feed your cat, of course you were going to go back to the cove later. You needed to know more. You wanted to ask your father questions, but you know he would never answer him. You know who would?

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

The town library was always a second home to you. The old librarian was the mother you never had who would always babysit you when your father would work the late shifts out at sea, sometimes feeling like he forgot about you for days on end.

The books she had were always well kept thanks to your hands and the shop always remained afloat with your savings.

Walking over in the humidity late at night with the toads croaking was a familiar feeling and experience during those late night walk back from the shipping docks to home late at night with your father.

Pulling on the door on the dimly lit library door, you're greeted by the smell of lavender and cat hair sticking to the windows. Not seeing the owner, you move to the back where you know where she might be. As frail and old as she is, she still manages to keep active and this shop afloat.

Moving past the dusty shelves, you find her taking a nap with one of her many cats. You sigh, knowing this was the usual, and place a blanket over her. Wanting to find something on the town's history, knowing that the owner keeps a well documented archive of all important news headlines. Searching through sections from twenty-five years ago, you surely do find a small cut out article in laminated paper to protect it, the same headline as the one you read earlier about your mother. You bag it immediately.

"Now dear, you got to tell me what you have," the bookkeeper stirs, knowing you took something. Flinching, you grab the small piece of paper out. You hand it to her. She smacks her lips, slowly raising her spectacles to her pale blue eyes. "Ah yes, the one about the your mother," she hums as if the story of a woman abandoning her child and husband to live in the sea with suspected "seamen", yeah right. You stare at her for answers.

"Glad you found out eventually. Those Mermen sure are nasty creatures, but want nothing but love," she hums on, earning a confused look from you.

"Your mother caught on to tha', they're lonely little ones, bein' caught in nets day to day, being hurt, caught in hooks, they'll lure you in. But do I blame them? No, dear." She slowly turns to you. "They love women, but women don't understand they can never love them back," she give a cautionary tale, still leaving you confused.

You blink rapidly, speechless. Old people, yea?

You just play along.

"Righ', so my mother fell in luv with some mermen?" You ask for clarification.

"Oh yes. She thought she could become one of them," She smiles innocently and leaves it at that. You smile back slowly but apprehensively. Gods does she make you scratch your head.

"And how do they lure in the women?" You ask, needing to know more.

"Oh, by many things. Pretending to be injured, giving you soft, luring eyes, bringing your shiny objects like the common crow, dear. They'll do anything to want you."

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Absurd. Absolutely, fuckin' absurd. Did she deny them? No! She knows they're real. But if you ask any other townsfolk they'll bow their heads in submission like a goddamn puppy seal or ignoring you, or even telling you to get out of their fuckin' cafe. Absurd.

You leave the library with more books then you need about sea life, probably more books than a child with a marine life hyper fixation, and that says a lot.

The librarian told you one last thing before you left, and that they were more active at night. Perfect.

You dropped off the books at home, hiding them away from your father, and then grabbing your bike and medical supplies, since 'the mermen lure you by acting injured', and by being overly curious, of course you were going to lure them on purpose.

You grab a headlight while you were at it at start riding into the dark fog. It wasn't something you were unfamiliar with, just something you didn't want to do.

Riding down the ramps with only the streetlamps lighting your way. You have yet to turn on your headlight to save the battery. Rolling down the hills, you're finally met with the familiar rocky cove.

Hopping off your bike, you drive it to the cove with the medical kit in the basket, along with some bratwurst the nearby deli made for bait. You park the bike outside and bring your 'lures' in, sitting down at the edge of the rocks, fixing the headlight and turning it on, setting it to where you threw in the sausage. You watched patiently for something to bite.

Something zooms by, definitely one of the mermen. The one you met earlier that day pops his full head up, looking straight at you with his baby blue eyes that were so alluring. He gurgles something at you, to which you tilt your head at. He points to the bratwurst, to which you roll your eyes at and throw in another, and he catches immediately.

Another head pops out. Another merman, darker, possibly a even more handsome friend of the mermen you already know. His black curly hair was short, his eyes too were alluring. Maybe this was the siren effect you've heard of. He too looked a little bit beat up from the sea's battles, but definitely kept his beauty protected. His fins were a blend of deep purple and black, reflecting off of the headlight. He has a top fin like his friend on his head, but it was shorter, although his ear fins were longer. He wore pearls in them, and they absolutely bring out his eyes. The would certainly look better under the sun. If they would look so beautiful under the sun--

"Oh, hello," you introduced yourself with your name, even though they probably didn't speak English at all.

"Hello," He responds.

You choke.

And pause.

"Heh, what?"

"What? Johnny over here never speak to you?" The handsome mermen turns to his beat-up friend. The friend scoffs. "Weel? I didnae' trus a human," He speaks in heavily dialect.

"You're Scottish...?" you ask in slight shock. Nothing has really shocked you as hard as learning about mermen.

"Aye," He responds. "Toss anotha," he mentions to the bratwurst again, to which you give in and give him the serving.

"Sorry about him. He's... apprehensive. I don't blame him," The friend of Johnny's apologizes. "Oh, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Kyle. I appreciate you helping my friend with the hook in his gills today. Neither of us could get it out..."

"Oh it's really no issue," you brush it off, but also remember what the librarian's warnings were.

But you want to press on something. But you want to be on their side.

"Look, I am not a fishermen. Nor do I even like fish. I am just trying to figure out where my mother went," you leave it at that, most likely knowing that they will not know anything.

"Your mother? Are we supposed to know her?" Kyle asks, to which you weren't surprised.

You sigh. "Don't-Don't worry about it..." your head hangs. You notice they look at each other.

"Was she a...mermaid?" Kyle asks.

"No, she was human. But she was lured by a merman, is what my town believes." You shrug, knowing it was the only thing to believe. "She went missing shortly after I was born. Abandoned me and my dad," you continued. Why were you telling them this again?

"Oh yea, that lil' miss," Johnny turns to Kyle. Your head perks up.

"You know where my mom is?" You ask, persistent. Kyle sighs. "Don't think she is here with us anymore, luv."

Your heart sinks.

"What? What... What do you mean?"

A siren sounds. The police siren. It's growing closer. It's coming, for you, you know. They're looking, your father knows you went out despite his warnings. Although you're a fucking adult--

You dive into the cold water.

||

Don't forget to read my Author's note! and don't forget you're loved<3

Oh, taglist question mark?

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Part 1 || Next Chapter ->

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

medialog april 2k25

ok first of all i just want to say that a few years ago i decided i would start always counting months monday to sunday, four weeks with a few fives, and this year april was a 5-week month, so this is actually not late and also that’s why thunderbolts, a movie i saw on may 4th, is on my april list (because i am a crazy person). ok anyway

books

toni morrison, playing in the dark: whiteness and the literary imagination — obviously great, but what i appreciated most about it was the way that morrison takes pains to clarify that her present interest is in the literary uses of blackness in american literature — its place in the toolbox of american writers — separate from the question of whether or not such and such author/book “is” racist. i am similarly very interest in projects that explore this kind of question from a formal, aesthetic perspective, which is not to say a depoliticized one but to observe that politics makes it known formally and aesthetically as much as it does didactically. there are much more interesting things to say about this stuff than “that’s racist” even though the existence of this phenomenon is of course inseparable from racism.

jennette mccurdy, i’m glad my mother is dead — as good as you’ve heard, and then some. often genuinely quite brutal to read, but told with a clarity and lightness (sometimes even a bracing and dark sense of humor!) that speaks both to what must have been enormous psychoemotional work on mccurdy’s part and to a real command of what she wants to say, which is in some ways the most moving aspect of the book—she talks about writing being a desire authentic to her, one her mother stifled, and it’s really gratifying to see proof in the book you’re reading that she’s good at it. she’s really deft with what details to include, and with the way that she writes her own present-tense first-person perspective in a way that never outpaces her own understanding at a given point in the narrative but still makes it unmistakable for the reader exactly what’s going on. also contains some of the most unflinching writing about EDs — across the spectrum — that i’ve read.

f. scott fitzgerald, tender is the night — i’ve said my piece on this already but: changed me as a person, forged me as a writer, the most gorgeously written book in the english language, weirder and more complicated and funnier than i remember every time i go back to it, never fails to move me profoundly in the closing sequence

suzanne collins, sunrise on the reaping — i just like the hunger games… i think objectively this is probably the weakest of the series because it’s basically the same as the first book but while haymitch is quite lovable especially given the affection readers will bring from his role in the OG trilogy, and while collins’s knack for sketching instantly memorable and likable characters that it’s really fucked up to watch die remains intact, there is just no competing with katniss, as perfectly constructed a protagonist as children’s lit has ever seen. but i read it in like three days and it was so sad and fucked up it almost made my tummy hurt (there’s one scene in particular i have to imagine will be toned down for the screen adaptation…) and the post-series epilogue made me cry for real lmao.

elif batuman, the idiot — i guess this book does what it sets out to do but wow i just could not care about this person or the “events” that “happened” (generous use of the words) at any point in this book at all. i actually also finished this one in three days but it was because i was so bored that i couldn’t bear the idea of waking up over and over in a world where i still had more of this book to read. i just didn’t care about anyone or anything or find the prose or scenes pleasurable in any way except for like 3 times one of which was that really funny line about eating a baguette where she’s like “the baguette required ear muscles i had lost in two million years of evolution,” that was great. but overall i was just not on the wavelength. i also was very annoyed by batuman’s use of repetition for comedic (...?) effect / pseudonaturalism (...?)... i didn’t find it funny or convincing and i noticed it really early so it just felt like a tic and every time she did it again i was like ENOUGH ALREADY.

david carr, the night of the gun: a reporter investigates the darkest story of his life. his own. — i like addiction memoirs because i have always felt a very profound “there but for the grace of god go i” resonance with substance abuse and i tend to find them oddly relatable despite never being even a moderately heavy user of literally anything. i also like stuff about the unreliability of memory. so i was the target demo for this book more or less and my review should not be taken as objective, but i thought this was pretty great. two anecdotes that sort of boil down this book’s deal: (1) there’s a part early on where he says something like “would you like my story if i said i was a fat thug who dealt bad coke and beat women? what if i said i was a father of two in recovery who had gotten sober to raise my twin girls? well both are true, so.” (2) the incident that spurred him into final rehab/full sobriety* for real was not the birth of his twin daughters but the night he left them in the backseat of the car to go get cocaine… which he remembered as both taking place shortly after their spring births and being cold enough to dress them in their snowsuits, a contradiction resolved when his brother reminded him he had in fact spent several months shooting cocaine while theoretically being a father. (*asterisk because this also includes, unusually in recovery memoirs, a section about his later relapse into alcoholism.) if that sounds like a guy you want to read a book about you’d probably like it too!

charles king, every valley: the desperate lives and troubled times that made handel’s messiah — this is one of those books that sort of uses one thing as a hook to take us on a little historical tour, in this case messiah acting as the excuse to lead us around 18th century england (mostly), its deranged political climate, its mix of enlightenment philosophy and often miserable living conditions sprinkled with steady outbursts of violence, its theater scene (including a truly bananas series of events surrounding suzannah arne, who makes her way in because she was one of the soloists in the first performances of messiah). i don’t care too much about this period in this place and i did kinda want a slightly deeper dive into messiah itself, but i had fun. i particularly appreciated the inclusion of the story of ayuba diallo, an educated and wealthy west african who got kidnapped into slavery on the way to doing some slave trading of his own and somehow talked his way out of it, becoming a bit of a british curiosity before heading home, no more antislavery than he left but having talked the royal african company into offering a ransom option for enslaved muslims… fascinating stuff.

george eliot, silas marner — i just feel like maybe no one has ever understood human psychology and behavior better than eliot did… this book is quite short (less than 200 pages) and its length and the clockwork nature of its plot give it the feel of a fable or a parable, but it’s so astonishingly dense with how many observations about the ways people can be she works into her sweet little story of redemption. she’s just such a warm, funny, wise narrator, it’s wonderful to be allowed to see the world the way she sees it… and it’s crazy that this book is a century and a half old, describing a world old-fashioned by the time it was published, and soooo many little moments, reactions, etc. feel so timeless and modern and fresh… like dolly telling silas “oh don’t bother to buy her baby clothes, she’ll outgrow them right away, i have some hand-me-downs you can use,” a conversation probably happening all over the world right now. this book also has some of the best writing i’ve ever seen about how great it is to hang out with a baby… at one point the baby pouts for her shoes to be removed and then after silas takes them off “baby was at once happily occupied with the primary mystery of her own toes, inviting silas, with much chuckling, to consider the mystery too.” like… that’s so real… babies literally do love to ponder the mystery of their own toes…!

george saunders, tenth of december — HELL YEAH FUCKIN RIGHT!!! finally i came across a story collection i actively enjoyed reading… saunders is weird and inventive and fun and funny and interestingly moralistic (not a criticism), and really above all i just loved reading his voice, i would have let him take me anywhere. i think my favorite story was the collection opener “victory lap,” which introduces to a pollyanna-ish young girl and then has her get child abducted… but is not remotely a story about how her sunny worldview is proven wrong. i was really pleased and moved by that. but honestly i enjoyed reading every story in the book. great stuff! wonderful times!

jenny offill, dept. of speculation — this was alright. i thought the writing was pretty good and i basically enjoyed it on a sentence level — it’s a novel told in short little bursts of prose, not even vignettes really, some almost aphoristic, and some of these were real knockouts in terms of being poignant or unexpected or funny. and i more or less liked reading the day to day observational stuff, the chapter about the actual horror of bedbugs, the early parenting material… unfortunately i was not compelled at all by the actual plot, which hinges on the disruption and subsequent repair of the marriage after the husband’s affair… some of my best friends are adultery novels but this one made me feel like the people who complain they are tired of litfic about professors and affairs (the protagonist is a writer/creative writing professor which… also a hard sell tbh. this is just not as interesting as writers want it to be). it also really had me like… man, the standards for men are so low it’s crazy… he fucks some girl at work or whatever and then we never like actually see him putting in any effort whatsoever into fixing things, we’re told she has to drag everything out of him in couples therapy, and then the thing that fixes it is they move out of brooklyn to the country…? girl stand up… i just did not buy the emotional resolution of this story at all even a little bit and i truly feel like to do so you have to have internalized a certain psychological weight and depth to the concept of “marriage” which is inseparable from having the most minimal emotional standards in the world for men. all that said i did find the format creatively/artistically stimulating to think about and potentially useful to tuck away thoughts about for the future.

david grann, killers of the flower moon: the osage murders and the birth of the FBI — this was really good and also (appropriately) incredibly upsetting. grann is a clean and thoughtful writer and he tells an incredibly compelling narrative about a series of acts beyond comprehension in the depth of their evil. he also makes a point of citing osage historians & writers repeatedly, which i appreciated. i always feel guilty about finding the investigative/procedural side of stuff fascinating but well… it was…. as was the stuff about hoover’s reforms & ambitions and the case’s role as early PR buzz for the FBI (including an episode of their radio show about it… yikes!). what is most devastating is what the final portion of the book is dedicated to, which is the reality that after william hale was convicted, the FBI considered the case closed even though hale had not been conclusively linked to all 24 victims of the “reign of terror”… grann traces how his own attempt to learn more from the record about one of the potentially unsolved cases leads to the realization that the scope of white people killing osage indians for their oil money certainly extends far beyond those 24 names, and he does such a good job of articulating the psychic toll that takes on a community for generations that i had to put the last couple chapters down a few times to take some breaths.

movies

the long kiss goodnight - this is a very weird and badly directed movie where geena davis plays an amnesiac who has hired samuel l. jackson to investigate her past and then it turns out she is a CIA agent which makes this the second movie i have seen where brian cox plays a fed in charge of an amnesiac assassin for the US government… i’d only have two nickels etc. the thing that really sinks this i think is that the director just does not understand shane black’s sense of humor at all or have the mastery necessary to walk the tonal tightrope necessitated by the script… but its badness does highlight how fun it is to watch jackson do anything

vanilla sky - weird movie but weird in a way where it’s like a strange high-concept premise with a deliberately confusing middle portion but it’s directed by cameron crowe who’s like the least weird man alive so it’s very normal feeling in a way that feels at odds with its central project…? bold to cast tom cruise at his peak and hide his face under a weird serial killer mask or post-car-crash disfigurement make-up for much of the runtime… his hair looks incredible and also freakishly like that of squall from final fantasy viii. i guess it was fine

companion - please put yellowjackets out of its misery after season 4 so sophie thatcher can go make a million silly horror movies for me to see her in <3 her AND harvey guillén, with a surprise jaboukie appearance? incredibly star-studded cast for the niche demographic of people who live in my apartment. don’t expect it to be any smarter than it needs to be but i had a lot of fun!

jack reacher - tom cruise… i actually don’t know how to classify this. i was going to say spy movie but it’s not really that… there’s some action but it’s not an action movie… but it’s too action heavy to be a legal thriller… i guess just a regular thriller? ish? rosamund pike… honestly might have been miscast but i love watching her so i don’t really mind. one time the mission impossible podcast guys said something about how mcquarrie lights skin in rogue nation and i did find myself watching this thinking everyone’s skin looks great (not great like “great skin” great like “i like the way you put this skin on screen” oh my god that sounds like serial killer language w/e you know what i mean)

the usual suspects - i wanted to watch this mostly because i’m so fascinated by the fac that christopher mcquarrie won an oscar for this screenplay and then couldn’t get a movie made for eight years and now he’s professionally tom cruise’s director more or less. ummm it was alright. the twist was spoiled for me by the key and peele cat poster sketch years ago but was still fun to watch. benicio del toro is sooooo good in every second he’s on screen i needed 300% more of him

high school musical 2 - this movie is crazy lmao the “we spent more than twelve dollars on it this time” vibes are off the charts both in the general look of the movie (which is clearly still a disney channel movie but like… a way more expensive one) and the choreo/group numbers, which have been beefed the fuck UP. the gay brother plays a piano in a pool??? watched this as the first one kinda sotned with one friend who was a fellow novice and two younger millennial friends who sang along with every song except the crazy fake hawaiian racist ashley tisdale number in the middle which they had completely blocked from memory. 10/10 viewing experience no notes

sinners - SLAAAAAPPED. really beautiful to look at for almost the whole time, insanely well-acted, creative and clever and, can’t emphasize this enough, so much more historically grounded than a hollywood product almost ever is… there’s like actual ideas here and they’re connected to reality and they’re expressed in interesting and compelling ways through the metaphorical valence of a pretty sick-ass vampire movie. the final fight scene is a little weak compared to everything else and there were a few points where i was like “ok i get it”... but i really fucking loved living in the world of this movie.

thunderbolts - idk guys… this one really worked for me… i loved bucky as like everybody else’s trauma elder… i loved every single thing florence pugh did in this film… i loved lewis pullman’s twitchy pathetic wet cat vibe and the concept of a character in a superhero movie whose whole deal is that he is seriously, actually incredibly unwell… the yelena/red guardian family stuff here worked way better than it did in black widow (one scene made me cry lol)… no laser lightning fights at ALL… they went as unflashy as possible with some of the effects in ways that made them actually much more effective… unbelievably funny gag in the ending credits art… JLD funny… geraldine viswanathan there??? but also all i ever wanted from these dumbass movies was for them to use silly superhero stuff to tell unsubtle stories about big human feelings and this one marries the content and theme about as well as the MCU’s ever done it, IMO, and definitely the best since before endgame. again there’s a reason despite falling very out of love with the MCU i have never changed my icon on this, a blog i started because i couldn’t shut the fuck up about bucky barnes, so i am not an objective observer here… but i had a great time at the movies

television

the white lotus (s3) - i’m like the only person on earth who hated s2 and therefore had zero expectations going into s3 and so i sort of agree with all the complaints that boil down to “this show is kind of dumb” but didn’t actually mind any of the dumbness at any time. public act of service IMO to introduce gen z to parker posey

yellowjackets (s3) - it’s actually crazy how fucking shitty and bad and stupid and horrible and inane and dumb this season of television was considering how much i loved the show before… like i’ve just never seen anything like it some of the all-time worst writing in the history of the screen. unbelievably bad. surreally bad.

daredevil: born again (s1) - idk fine i guess? reminded me that i did always find charlie cox as matt murdock a really charming performance but in a way where i wished he was in a show i liked rather than one that was… fine. i never made it past season 1 of the netflix series but well it wasn’t homework for two separate ringer podcasts back then so i’ll probably tune in for s2 to access that sweet sweet Content

currently watching: andor, which it turns out everyone on earth correctly identified as Good Actually; we picked up cheers as a chillout sitcom watch and it really makes going to work in a bar where you and your boss sexually harass each other all day look sooooooo appealing

music

had an off month for music bc i started feeling overstimulated generally and couldn’t listen to any music at all for a while and then my phone broke… so not a lot of albums this month. but i have a bunch loaded on to a playlist and am tentatively optimistic about resuming my albums era! (finding my bluetooth headphones would help though.) this month’s single is this gorgeous track by debby friday which starts out light and trancey and goes in a sort of caroline-polacheck-remix-of-everything-is-romantic direction and just soars really beautifully:

ALT BLK ERA, rave immortal - loud & dumb & fun! they’re already wearing out their welcome but i enjoyed it

alisa xayalith, slow crush - i really loved her single “what the hell do we do now” but the album didn’t quite live up to its promise… pretty but mostly forgettable although a couple tracks might stick around

ZORA, Z D A Y - zora’s first 2025 album back in jan was the first new release i really loved and is still one of my faves of the year so i was very disappointed that this one was kind of a miss for me… not sure if it was rushed or if she’s just doing a different vibe but it felt very half-assed and forgettable

Btrickz, 80’z - a charming 11 minutes of chatty-sounding hispanophone rap, not my fave kind of thing but a cool vibe

[sleepless-prince]

AYO WICKED (MORE SPECIFICALLY FIYERO) ENJOYERS‼️

FANFIC ALERT

(Small preview at the bottom)

Since it really feels like it’s on its feet now and I think I’ll be able to start pushing it out publicly soon, I wanted to announce:

I have a wholesome Fiyero fanfiction I’ve been working on that started just due to the fact that Fiyero is accompanied by a Horse in the movie version. I immediately jumped as

1) A Horse

2) The bond and respect between my own horse and I

Currently it’s a boy and his Horse (more so, a Horse and his boy) on the trek to shiz.

There will be some bits of Fiyeraba later, probably some gelphiyero too, but it won’t be the main focus. I wanted this fic to focus on the friend/familial relationship the could exist between Fiyero and Feldspar.

However, I will note: I’m someone who grew up with Wizard of Oz and didn’t get into Wicked until I was older. With things the movie has done and mentions it’s made in comparison to the og stage production, I’ve been having the fun of making my own sort of amalgamated world of Wizard of Oz lore and Wicked lore and making them play nice together. Don’t worry though! It’s not unfamiliar as Wicked is still the focus and you wont be lost if you don’t know anything from the Wizard of Oz books. It doesn’t require that knowledge at all and only acts as some fun nods and namesakes if you do know.

NOW, I don’t really know yet how far I’m going with this fic and where it will end, so we’ll see. I do have two other fic ideas in my head though (if I ever do them) that would be connected to it. One a sort of.. prequel, and one a continuum.

(Like.. this fic is also just named “Honse” rn in my docs because I’ve yet to think of a title for it 💀)

Currently it’s at 2~3 chapters and I’ve head a couple friends reading it as it’s created for their reactions and feedback. So.. I honestly can’t wait to, hopefully soon, share it!

For now! Please enjoy the sort of.. introduction as a sample 🥺

——apologies if the format transferred weird——

"Shiz University.. sure, why not? The most acclaimed university in Oz. The "Shiznit." The top of the top that even Mr. Better Than Everyone Else Wogglebug praises. The perfect place to send a prince, but how long do you think it will take until I achieve their final disappointments?" The Winkie prince tossed a stray twig into the fire and sat back with a stretch.

"Well, personally, I think you could do great there, Fiyero." The Horse of a different color couldn't help but nicker as he laid down. "If you would just start reaching out to your teachers, or even me for that matter, instead of continuously pushing it off.. That never does you any good, you know. Besides, I've heard the professors at Shiz are quite good! A few of which I’ve heard are Animals!" Feldspar spoke proudly before grabbing an apple to snack on.

Of course Feldspar would be giving him a sort of.. pep-talk with Shiz only being another day away. No one knew him better than that Horse. He had a decent hoof in raising the prince afterall. It made Fiyero both very glad and somewhat afraid that his parents had agreed to the idea to let him travel with Feldspar. Although, there wasn't much convincing that needed to be had. They had immediately been on board with it from the second they heard it. He always enjoyed getting to travel with Feldspar anyway, getting moments to explore the roads less traveled (Oz knows Gillikin country had plenty of areas less traveled) and getting to camp out like this. These moments where there were no expectations and all the pressure would lift away from his body. Moments where his brain felt completely at ease. Not heavy or foggy, not scattered or numb, just.. clear.

"And, personally, I think you have too much faith in me," Fiyero didn't catch the smirk that casually slid onto his face. "However, I will admit that I am at least a little excited about the Animal professors. I always liked the Animal teachers better back at home anyway."

"Hmm," Feldspar shook his head before grabbing one of the apples to toss at the prince. Fiyero had to scramble a little, the heel of his boot kicking up dirt from the forest floor, but he managed to catch the apple before it flew over his head. Feldspar tried to hold it in first, but failed as quiet chuckles still escaped him. "You should believe in yourself a little more. And I don't mean when you're prancing around like a young pony."

"I do not prance around! I flaunt. Very strategically." He took a bite of the apple, turning his chin up in mock offense.

"Oh, I am very sorry, Your Highness. You flaunt around like a young pony." Feldspar's laughing was louder this time. "But I am serious, Fiyero. I want you to take care of yourself. Maybe find yourself some good beings to hang around with this time, hm? Some real friends?"

“I do take care of myself," he dismissed with a wave of his hand, "As for the other thing, I can at least promise you that I’ll try. Genuinely.” ‘Genuinely’ was the funny little keyword. He would genuinely try, he always did. Maybe it made it a little hard to make genuine connections when he kept his genuine self locked away, only for a select few to find out. However, it was always easier to get others to like you by locking that away. It made things less complicated and it never let anyone get too uncomfortably close either. Sure, he would watch and carefully decide who he might actually like, but the prior made it easier to drift around if he so needed.

“Well, a promise to try is the best I can ask for.” The horse settled, letting the prince finish his apple. Feldspar took the moment to sit in a comfortable silence, looking up to the sky. The stars shone brightly through the leaves and branches, making it look like a few were peeking out at them from behind the trees. It made him a little sad, bringing the thought to mind that these moments may start to become scarce. His young human, the one he swore to protect and look after, the one he had joined on many adventures, the one he witnessed almost every milestone of, Feldspar knew he’d soon be expected to fully step into princely duties. In a way, Shiz felt like the start of some sort of countdown and he knew Fiyero thought the same. He could tell from the way they had, admittedly, taken a longer route to Shiz.

“Do you want your blanket tonight?” The horse’s thoughts were interrupted by Fiyero who had stood back up to get to their supply. They hadn’t brought too much with them themselves, having sent a lot of their things to the school separately. This left their little mound of items being mostly made only of necessities for travel.

“Ah, no, no,” Feldspar looked over and his ears perked forward as he watched Fiyero rummage around their things.” I think I’ll be fine for tonight. Although, as always, I do appreciate you asking.”

“Of course, friend. You’re the one doing most of the work this journey. Checking in on you might be the absolute least I can do. Aaand, I couldn’t really tell if you were admiring the dark or just trying to predict tonight’s weather.” The prince replied with a slight chuckle as he grabbed his bed roll and blanket. Despite the various other… reputations that Fiyero had made for himself, Feldspar had always been glad to know the true Fiyero. Even if he knew that the prince had never truly allowed even him completely in. Despite the constant pressure and high expectations he grew up under, he was a good kid.

As the quiet settled again, leaving only the sound of the gentle breeze that weaved its way through the trees, Fiyero got comfortable for the night. Laying back on his mat, he let out a sigh through his nose. There was a chance that they would make it to Shiz tomorrow and he needed to start planning what he would do, what his entry would be, and how he’d come off. It was a top of the line university, but so were the schools he attended back in Winkie Country. However, with this being Gillikin Country, he no doubt would have the extra flair and draw of being a prince from another quadrant of Oz. Most people never got to do more than read about the other quadrants, so anything in regards to another quadrant tended to easily get people curious and excited.

“Goodness,” Feldspar spoke after his head lifted up into a yawn, bringing Fiyero’s attention back to the Horse. “That seems like the cue for me to start drifting. Rest easy, Your Highness.” With the campfire dimming, it was getting a little harder to see the Horse, his blue coat starting to meld with the dark of night, but Fiyero could still make out the movement of another big yawn from his friend. He couldn’t help but let a few gentle, warm laughs escape before rolling back over on his mat.

“Goodnight, you old Horse.”

[kitorin]

misalignment (n).

/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/

the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."

contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)

Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.

The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.

If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.

Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.

After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.

Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.

He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.

It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.

It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.

He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.

But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.

You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.

Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.

You're first to talk. "How's university been?"

"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."

You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”

Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”

You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”

“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”

Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.

God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.

With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.

You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”

“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.

You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.

“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”

Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.

I hate you.

Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.

Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.

I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.

Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.

"Reo? You good?"

"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"

"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."

"And yours is so pretty."

There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.

"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."

And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.

"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."

It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.

Neither of you say anything for a bit.

Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.

A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.

If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.

"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"

You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."

And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.

"Well, it was an honour."

It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?

Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?

"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."

Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.

Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.

It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.

A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."

Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.

"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"

It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.

Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.

"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."

"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."

And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[davie-bullck]

So I finished Wind and Truth. Major spoilers for the cosmere.

Well, that went both so much better and so much worse than I ever could’ve expected. Not the quality of the writing or the story itself, those were so so so good.

The only prediction I made that came true was Herald Kaladin. I don’t think I ever posted about it but I have been preaching that gospel since Jezrien died. My favorite guy is immortal now!! So hopefully he’ll be around until the Cosmere comes to a close. And good lord Brandon did him so right. It’s a shame he didn’t get to spread therapy to the physical realm on Roshar very much but he’s putting those skills to extremely good use.

I never liked Szeth until this book. I love the direction he’s going in, especially the direction him and Nightblood are going. I AM NOT A THING. No talking sword has ever made me cry so much.

I never vibed with the theories that Gavinor would be Odium’s champion but I thought it was incredibly well done and I’m very excited to see what comes of him in the back half.

Rlainarin is everything I could’ve hoped for, and seeing Brandon’s growth as a writer in his representation of queer and neurodivergent characters has been so rewarding! I also love that Rlain has been given such a relevant role as Bridger of Minds. I was worried he might just become Renarin’s bf and not much more.

Adolin and Maya’s arc was so much more than I could’ve hoped for, I love the Unoathed, and hit fighting the thunderclast was one of my favorite action scenes in the cosmere.

I’m so glad Vasher is sticking around on Roshar AND training Lift??? I love Lift and can’t wait for her book in the back half.

I caught on to the Auxiliary “twist” as soon as he started calling Szeth his squire. I’m glad we got to see the beginning of Sigzil’s transition to Nomad. I’m not sure if I would recommend people reading Sunlit Man between Row and WaT or after, but I was glad I’d read Sunlit Man already. I love Sigzil so so much and really hope we get more of him than just Sunlit Man, fortunately the time dilation thing allows him time to travel the cosmere as Nomad then Zellion and still possibly come back for the back half!

Retribution, the perfect direction for this midpoint in the series. Taravangian wielding two shards that can work well together is such a huge insane threat and I can’t wait to see how the world responds to him.

Although they took a bit of a back seat I was very excited by where the Listeners ended up.

Dalinar. Good LORD Dalinar. If Kaladin didn’t exist he would easily be my favorite character, and as devastating as his death is, I’m so incredibly proud of him and his journey. Given what he was up against, he absolutely made the right decision, forcing the other shards into action. I LOOOOOOOVED him showing Honor that it’s not all about sticking to oaths, showing the power what it could be even in a dire moment like that.

The cosmere fandom is one of the only ones I actively engage with, due in no small part to the morality of its flagship series (I know I know, Mistborn’s cool too)

This is my favorite book series, I will love it until the day I die. I’m sad that there won’t be a new one for a couple years but it’s genuinely something that makes me want to be healthier so I live long enough to see the conclusion. The immortal words are etched into my heart and I will continue to do my best to live by them.

Life before death. Strength before weakness. Journey before destination.

[clearlightwired]

i finished almost nowhere by @nostalgebraist!

i think i heard someone at some point describe this as "puzzle box literature" and that is probably the most accurate descriptor. rotating this book in my mind was intensely pleasing. you don't usually encounter sci-fi with fully-explained science that feels like a real thing that exists; not shying away at all from explaining how things actually work is one of the things i enjoy/respect most about what nostalgebraist did in this book, because the explanation was certainly no easy task (and the fact that it came out both understandable to me and in a way that caused me to want to learn more about actual physics is big).

the same things that make AN less approachable are also what make it an intensely rewarding experience imo... it's long and complex and easy to lose track of. but if you like understanding things then it is the perfect challenge. i am very glad it's as long as it is, both because i'm not sure you could fit what needed to be told in any shorter of a book and also because it was so enjoyable to read that i did not want it to end. nothing feels like it is in excess, though everything has the wonderful depth of things that could easily fill three such books, if you really looked into them

the multi-format nature of AN is one of the strong points. it is at times a physics lecture, a play, an annotated manuscript, a console log, etc. and all of these really work for it and are deployed in ways that make the reading experience better

(spoilers/specifics, if you have not read almost nowhere go read it now!!! please it's so good!)

i don't know yet, how i feel about the ending. it's almost simple, compared to the rest of the book, and not really precedented by anything that happens up to that point, though i think it ends up working well. i'll have to let that part sit for a while

i adored the characters in this book. i would be hard pressed to pick a favorite. it might be grant, or grant and azad together; what little information we get about what the mooncrash was like, in both the rebased and original version, has some certain quality to it that tugs at my heart. though watching the divergence of the annes and all the people they become is up there too. and of course the glimpses we get into what it feels like for the vances, knowing they are fictional... seeing into what it was like for hector in the crash with his anime figurines and video games... suffice it to say that all the characters are dimensional and the crashes give a lot of insight into them across situations. this is probably one of my favorite parts

this book is also just really funny. the types of people described on stein's rock and their customs. moon's whole deal. the descriptions of sylvie's halo and what it does. grant's continued role as "guy who sits, confused, while people tell him incomprehensible things". it makes the whole story flow

i have a lot of questions, still, but mostly ones that are at their core "i wish there was even more of this great book": e.g. how and why did sylvie make the transition from "grant's dog" to "sylvie"? (maybe this is answered somewhere and i missed it.) i typed out a long list of questions after that one but am realizing that a lot of them are just that this book is very complex and maybe much would become clear if i reread it in the future -- the prompt to reread chapter 15 towards the end of the book surprised me with how much more understandable it was the second time around, and probably lots of other parts would be similar now that i've seen the story from above.

this is a really great book. i will maybe write more at some point but for now i want to think on it. and then maybe read everything else nostalgebraist has ever written

[overthegardenwirtt]

top ten books I read this year, ranked:

10. And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie (pub 1939)

Honestly this wasn't the most mind-blowing or memorable book, but it was my first Christie and my introduction to this genre. It got me out of a slump too which was great. Christie's style is so very british but I thoroughly enjoyed this as my introduction to this kind of mystery, and I found the reveal to be surprising and well done! This book definitely made me want to pick up more Agatha Christie in the future, but I'm not in any particular hurry to do so.

9. Goodbye to Berlin by Christopher Isherwood (pub 1939)

This was actually my most recent read. I picked up this book knowing that it was the inspiration behind the musical (and film) Cabaret. This book feels much more of a piece of creative nonfiction/memoir than a novel, but it tells different stories in vignettes of people in Berlin in the 1930s. Between dancers and artists like Sally Bowles, queer people in Berlin, and Jewish people living through the rise of the Nazi party, these true stories were incredibly touching and really made me think about the way we talk about fascism today. The modern way in which people spoke in Weimer Germany, and the extent to which they knew what was going on in Germany at this time and still just let the Nazi takeover happen, is terrifying and all too real, and I am glad this book exists to highlight that.

8. Go Tell it on the Mountain by James Baldwin (pub 1953)

My first Baldwin of the year and third Baldwin book overall. I really enjoyed this book, as it was an exploration of a Black family in Harlem, and each family members' relationship with one another and with God. I loved the way the story was told, through flashbacks and memories of each character as they sat to pray in a church. Each story was both incredibly humanizing and devastating, and the ending was surprisingly somewhat hopeful.

7. Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice (pub 1976)

I read this after the second season of the amc show aired. Honestly, this book was so much better than I was expecting it to be, given what I know about where Anne Rice takes the series in the future. In this novel, the prose is so beautiful and breathtaking. Anne Rice also delves into such deep and thought-provoking discussions about God and religion, goodness and evil and monstrousness, through her characters and their philosophies, and how they deal with their vampirism. I fully feel that this book deserves to be called the modern Frankenstein.

6. Babel by RF Kuang (pub 2022)

The youngest book on here by far. I am often weary of the trendy new books and the 'booktok' books, especially those that seem to be fulfilling some kind of aesthetic. So, my expectations going into this weren't the highest, I was expecting, as is true with most 'dark academia' books, a rip-off of The Secret History. However, I was so pleasantly surprised by this book! This book is an anti-colonialist response to The Secret History and the like, and explores how academia always serves the institutions in power, and how specifically British academia has driven, and continues to drive, imperialism. This book was also very science-fictiony, and completely deserves its Nebula award. The magic system in this book is so interesting and novel to me, and i truly think Kuang is a genius. Also, I personally loved the footnotes. It's so clear how much work and research went into this book, and it adds so much to the quality of the book.

5. Animal Farm by George Orwell (pub 1945)

This was technically a re-read, since I read Animal Farm with my mom in elementary school and didn't understand it at all. So, I finally got back around to reading this and it was great. Just so perfectly told, the story of revolt from one authoritarian regime and the decline into another, arguably worse regime. It was also incredibly heartbreaking, and made even more so by making the characters farm animals. It is truly a perfect book and I know it sounds cliche, but everyone should read it. George Orwell is well-known for a reason.

4. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut (pub 1969)

This one was unexpected! I have owned Slaughterhouse-Five for years, I think it has been sitting on by bookshelf for over five years untouched. I finally got around to reading it a few months ago and it was incredible. Kurt Vonnegut has a witty and to-the-point writing style that was difficult to get used to at first, but I definitely believe it worked in this book's favor. The childlike, simple way of writing and speaking, combined with the grim topic of WWII and PTSD, really highlight the sadness of Kurt Vonnegut's situation and how young he, and Billy Pilgrim, and all these soldiers really were. I absolutely loved the sci-fi interludes as well. It worked both creatively, to provide an allegory for war and PTSD, and literally to show just how dissociative Billy Pilgrim would get after the war. This book left me feeling incredibly sad, and I know that was just the point.

3. The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K Le Guin (pub 1969)

And the book that beat Slaughterhouse-Five for both the Hugo and the Nebula! This book is not one that I would typically read, but I am so glad that I did. It is considered a seminal work of feminist science fiction, and tells the story of a human man named Genly who goes to a planet where all the people are genderless. It is a beautiful story of finding love and understanding with other people, and learning that there are strengths in our differences, and those differences can bring us together. This is a truly great novel, and left me feeling the way the protagonist felt, having gained a new empathy and love for human beings, no matter how different we may be.

2. Another Country by James Baldwin (pub 1962)

My fourth and final James Baldwin novel to date. I absolutely loved this book. The writing style, the beautiful vibes, and the beautiful and devastating story of a group of friends in Greenwich Village, New York was so compelling. This was one of those books that I could not just put away after I finished it. I had to read and reread the book, go over it in my mind for a while afterwards. This book explores Black masculinity and Black womanhood in America, it explores queerness, and specifically Black queerness during this time, and it explores the complicated dynamics between a multiracial group of friends in 1960s America. It feels so shockingly ahead of its time.

Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell (pub 1949)

yeah yeah, this is cliche, but it's so well-known, and so spoken about, for a good reason. This book, outside of its talk about authoritarianism, was actually just a thoroughly enjoyable and effective work of psychological horror. The way that language and history can shape our current really was so brilliantly done that it had me questioning whether O'Brien was telling the truth to Winston at times. I feel like this is a controversial opinion, but I felt that many of the characters, including Winston, Julia, Syme, and even O'Brien to a lesser extent, were humanized in a way that I felt terrible for these characters. This book had such incredible world-building that I would have been okay with reading 300 full pages of Winston's day-to-day life, that's how interested I was in this horrifying world Orwell created. However, the plot was equally as compelling! I truly felt like I was there with Winston through every step of his journey, and that made this novel feel so sickeningly horrific, and so effective.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 8.5: 007- Peña, Agent Peña

Summary: After Javi's surprise on the Peña ranch, you had already had the best night of your life. Little did you know, your night was just beginning.

Word Count: 4.9K (This is as short as it's ever gonna get, this is just who I am)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up), creampie, praise (oh boy, does Javi tell you what a good job you're doing), semi-public nudity?? (not really, but you'll see!!), mentions of eating/food, mentions of alcohol, mentions of loss of a parent, you and Javi being absolute goofballs and being lovesick idiots

A/N: SO. I finished Chapter 8 and went to go walk my dog, and the song "Would That I" by Hozier came on, and it 100% is the inspiration behind this mini chapter. I literally came up with the idea for this chapter and wrote it in less than 24 hours because Javi and Osita live in my head rent free at all times being the cutest two idiots to ever exist. Enjoy this fun lil bit, it's honestly probably my favorite thing that I've written for this series so far!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“I’m not sure if cold, post sex and first I love you’s is the way that your dad intended us to eat these enchiladas, but holy shit are they delicious.” You and Javi laughed, finishing the last bites of the enchiladas verdes Chucho had packed for the both of you. It probably would have made more sense to eat dinner almost an hour ago when Javi had first taken you out to watch the sunset in the back of his truck, but, no offense to Chucho’s enchiladas, having the most romantic sex of your life followed by Javi telling you that he loved you for the first time seemed to take higher priority to you. 

“These ones are actually pretty good, I will give him that. Thank God he’s finally starting to get better at cooking, a few months ago his food was practically inedible.” Javi shook his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand as gathered both of your cleared paper plates and forks, tossing them into the empty paper bag Chucho had sent them with. 

“Actually? I didn’t know he had come such a long way in his cooking career in such a short time.” You snickered, pulling some of the blankets laying at the edge of the truck bed over you as you scooted yourself closer to Javi, laying your head against his chest as you snuggled next to him. Pulling you closer, Javi wrapped his arm around you, fingers tracing gentle circles along the back of his sweatshirt you were now wearing. 

“Actually. He never cooked until my mom died. One day he called me while I was still in Colombia and told me he had found one of my mom’s recipe books and was gonna teach himself how to cook. When I came home, he insisted on making me dinner every night so he could show off whatever he was learning. I ate a lot of sandwiches after he fell asleep the first few months I was home.” 

“Well despite the terrible food you had to eat, that’s actually really sweet. Glad I came around when I did so I only have to reap the benefits of his good cooking and not suffer along with you.” You giggled as he squeezed you before giving you a playful shake wrapped in his arms. “Can you cook at all, or is this a warning that you’re gonna subject me to your awful cooking too?” 

“I can cook enough. Not a good cook by any means, but definitely not my Pops a few months ago. Can do more than Kraft Mac and Cheese, I’ll tell you that much.” He smirked, poking fun at the first meal you had made. You sat up, giving him the biggest stink face you could muster without bursting into laughter.

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, don’t act like you wouldn’t have eaten an entire second pot if I hadn’t made one for you, Mr. Literally Will Literally Eat Anything Under The Sun In World Record Time.” 

“If I seem to remember correctly, you weren’t doing a lot of complaining after I ate, Osita.” He winked at you as you nudged your elbow into his side before he grabbed you, rolling you over and playfully wrestling you into the pile of pillows and blankets beneath you. “C’mere, Hermosa.” He wrapped his arms around you as you giggled and squirmed beneath him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grasp. You kicked your feet as he kissed at your neck, his mustache ticking you with each peck of his lips. Using all your might, you were able to roll over on top of him, straddling his lap as he lay on his back, breaking free of his grasp.

“Can’t get me that easy, Peña. Wrestling was the only way I got anything from my brothers for the first ten years of my life.” You smirked as you leaned down to kiss him as his fingertips gripped into your hips, pulling you further on to his lap. 

“Could think of worse ways to lose a wrestling match.” Javi’s face smug as he gestured to how you were sitting on top of him, letting out a quiet groan as you started to grind into his lap, feeling him already half hard beneath you. “Careful, Hermosa. Not gonna be so nice if you’re gonna try to play dirty.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to make the next move. 

Still bent over him, you kissed up his neck and jaw before nipping at his ear. “Last time I checked, you liked it when I played dirty.” Your whispers left jaw slack, pressing up into you, his dick already straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Fuck me.” He murmured under his breath as you began to grind harder into his crotch. “You wanna play dirty, baby? I can play fuckin’ dirty.” You could see the lust filled in the dark pool of his eyes, biting down on your lip, already feeling the slick pooling between your legs with each sway of your hips. “You already wet for me, baby?” 

This man read you like a book- like he had every fucking page memorized. “Mmmhhhmm.” You nodded, feeling how soaked the fabric of your sweatpants already was as you felt your clit rub deliciously against Javi’s dick, hard and heavy underneath you. 

“I know you are, dirty girl. Want me to touch you baby? Want me to make you come before I fuck that perfect pussy again?” You nodded again, frantically shaking your head yes at his filthy words as you worked yourself against his length. He laughed to himself, shaking his head as he watched how blissed out you already were rubbing against him. “Too bad.” 

You paused, shooting him a confused look. “What do you mean, too bad?” 

“You know exactly what I mean. You wanna play dirty, I will too. You wanna come? You get yourself off like this.” He gave you a subtle nod of his head, gesturing to how you were sitting on top of his lap. 

“Are you serious? Javi, c’mon, please.” You rolled your eyes at him as you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to play off how desperate you already were for him. 

“Rules are rules baby. Fight dirty, play dirty. C’mon pretty girl, I know how needy you are, how wet that pretty pussy is for me.” He mewled as he toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers brushing against your skin. He dug his fingers into your hips, slowly pushing them back and forth against his lap, encouraging you to pick back up your pace brushing up against his dick with every motion. “There you go, hermosa. That’s my girl. Just like that, baby.” He praised as you found yourself rubbing harder and harder against him, slick coating your thighs. With his length, it wasn’t hard to feel how big he was, making it easy to find a sweet spot that brushed up against your sensitive bundle of nerves as you rocked your hips back  and forth over him. 

“Javiiiii, fuck.” You whined, feeling the heat build at the base of your spine as your clit rubbed harder and harder on his covered cock. 

“That’s it, Osita. Doing so good for me, baby. God, you look so fucking pretty riding me like that, C’mon, I know you’re close sweetheart.” His praise had you climbing towards your high, each time you ground your hips into him had you closer and closer to coming undone. His name fell from your lips, moaning as he was gripping your hips again pushing you deeper into him. 

“Javi, I’m so close. Fuck, fuck fuckkkkkk.” You whimpered as you felt the euphoria rush through you, gushing, feeling your pussy throb from the intensity of your orgasm. You slumped into him, face falling on to his chest as you caught your breath. 

“Such a good girl, Osita. My good fucking girl. Did so good for me baby.” He whispered in your ear as hand his hands along your body, trembling at his touch. “Still want me to fuck you, dirty girl?” 

“Yes, holy shit, yes.” You moaned. “Please, I need you so bad Javi.” He helped you pull your sweatpants down, kicking them off your feet as you straddled back over Javi, sitting on top of his thighs. Slipping your fingers under his waistband, you pushed the pants down, revealing his dick, already red, precum leaking from its tip, leaving a stain on his sweatpants. You lifted yourself up, slowly sinking down on his length, each inch splitting you open with the sweetest stretch. Even without his fingers to warm you up, you were so wet that you took him easily, feeling yourself bottom out on his cock as Javi let out an audible groan. His hands reached around, giving you a light smack on your ass before his fingers kneaded into your flesh. You began to raise yourself up and down along his length, swirling your hips as your hands tugged at the hem of his sweatshirt that you were wearing, ready to take it off. His hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could get any further. 

“Keep it on. Fuck, I love seeing you in my clothes.” He bit down on his lip as you nodded, rubbing your hands up and down his chest as you threw your head back, drunk on the way his dick felt hitting against that sweet spot inside you. The hair around his base rubbed against your clit, making you whine as you picked up your pace. “Jesus Hermosa, fuck me. Taking me so well. My sweet girl.” His voice was thick and raspy between his heavy breaths, his eyes glued on your every move as you rode him. 

Suddenly, you felt him shift. Sitting up with his back pushed up against the truck, he wrapped his arms around you pulling you in so you were chest to chest, foreheads pressed against each other. You could feel him thrust up into you, his cock punching that magical spot that made the heat at the base of your spine creep up your back. “Javi, fuck baby, you feel so good. Fuckkk.” You tugged at his thick curls, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of his sweet and spicy cologne clinging to his sweatshirt. 

“I know, hermosa, I know. Fuck, you’re so wet and tight, baby. Gonna give me one more? Soak my dick before I fuck you full of me again?” You wrapped your legs around his waist, digging your fingers into his back as you felt yourself snap, screaming his name as pleasure ran through every inch of you. You could feel how tight you were clenching around his cock as you came, his thrusts pounding deeper and faster into you. It didn’t take long for him to meet his own end, only needing a few more pumps before you felt his seed spill into you, leaking down your thighs and into his lap as you slumped into each other. 

“Fuck, Osita.” He whispered between his labored breathing, lifting his head off your shoulder, smiling at your blissed out face. “Jesus, I fucking love you.” 

“I love you too, Jav. Super romantic with your dick still in me and your cum dripping down my legs.” You giggled, still sitting in his lap. 

“It’s fucking hot, is what it is. Fuck me, you’re so sexy. What the fuck did I ever do to deserve such a beautiful woman who fucking loves me like you?” 

“God, you’re so sweet. Get your dick out of me before I start crying again, you menace.” You both laughed as you shifted off of him, grimacing at the mess you had left behind in Javi’s lap. “Do you have any towels, or leftover napkins? Sorry, I made a fucking mess. So much for those showers before we left.” 

Javi paused for a moment before a sly grin crept across his face. “Ostia, can you swim?

You raised an eyebrow at him, very confused by his question, considering you were surrounded by a gigantic, grassy field. “What? Yes, of course I can swim? Why are you asking me that? How is knowing if I can swim helpful right now?”  

His smile turned giddy, smirking at you as he shimmied his sweatpants back over his legs. “C’mon, get in the truck.” He slid himself off the back of the truck bed, standing up and outstretching his hand toward you. You quickly pulled your sweatpants back on too, following behind him as he helped you out of the truck and picked you up to put you in the passenger seat. 

“Javi, what the hell are we doing? Are you gonna go throw me in a trough or something? Listen, I love those cows, but I am not gonna be happy if you toss me into a bucket full of dirty cow spit water.” You crossed your arms at him, waiting for a response. 

“You’ll see.” He winked at you before shutting your door, hopping over to the driver’s side and starting up the car. 

“You’re lucky I love you.” You grumbled, still crossing his arms at him. He reached over the center console, giving you a quick kiss before pulling away and shifting the truck into drive. 

“I’m a very lucky man, indeed.” You finally shifted out of your playfully grumpy demeanor, melting as Javi stared at you, his sweet, puppy dog eyes making your heart explode every time they landed on you. You turned up the radio as Javi pulled away, heading the opposite direction that you came from, his headlights shining on a thick patch of trees at the end of one of the pastures. Driving a little deeper into the wooded area, Javi put the car in park, leaving you even more confused than when you left. He smiled at you as he shut off the ignition, hopping out the door before coming around to your side, helping you out of the car. 

“God, I thought driving me out to the middle of the field was bad, but taking me out into the woods in the pitch black? You really never are beating these serial killer allegations, I’m afraid.” 

“You’re the worst, do you know that?” Javi shook his head as he grabbed your hand, pulling you along with him as he began to walk through the trees. 

“I’m just saying! Listen, if you really wanted- Hey! Hey! Put me down!” You squealed as Javi picked you up, flinging you over his shoulder as you pounded your fists against his back, kicking and giggling with each step he took. God, was he strong. He carried you like it was nothing, laughing to himself as he watched you try to wriggle your way out of his fireman hold. Letting out a huff of defeat, you slumped further into him, staring at the ground as he took each step. 

“At least I have a good view of your ass from here.” You snickered as he continued walking. 

“You really like my butt, don’t you?” He laughed, rustling you in his grasp, still flung over his shoulder. 

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are built like a God, Javier Peña. You’re very much proving your point right now carrying my fat ass through the woods.” 

He stopped, setting you down so you were facing towards him, placing his strong hand under your chin before tilting it up towards him. You gazed up at him, a surprisingly serious look spread across his face. “Hey. I love your ass. I love your body. Every curve, every single bit of you. Okay?”  

“Okay.” You softly replied, pulling you in tighter as he kissed the top of your head. “So are you gonna tell me where the hell we’re going, or are you just gonna keep carrying me through the woods?” 

“Turn around.” He nodded his head, gesturing behind you. As you spun around, you saw the moonlight sparkle off ripples of the pond in front of you. Rocks and tall grass surrounded the edges, water from a small stream flowing from behind the reeds into the pond. An old, worn wooden dock sat at the end, hovering over the first few feet out into the water. You turned back around to look at Javi, now smirking at your pleasant surprise with his most recent mystery. “I was out here every day as a kid in the summer. Nothing much, but it was deep enough to swim in. Haven’t been back here since high school, probably.”

“Is this where you’d take all the ladies to woo them with your swimming skills?” You joked, giving Javi a nudge as he stared around the pond. 

“No.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Just me and my friends, sometimes my cousins when they came over, if I was lucky.” 

“Well, I feel very honored to be the first lucky woman to get to see this secret pond.” You replied, slipping your sweatpants off your waist, leaving your bottom half exposed. Javi’s jaw dropped for the second time today watching you strip yourself of your clothes. “What?” You looked at him as your sweatshirt came next, dropping in a pile next to your pants, leaving you fully naked in front of him. “Aren’t we getting in?” You tilted your head at the pond, smirking at Javi who was now speechless. 

“You sure?” He said, gulping as he looked you up and down, your soft skin glowing in the moonlight. 

“Would I be standing here naked if I wasn’t?” You shrugged your shoulders as you raised an eyebrow at him. “You gonna swim in your sweats or am I gonna keep standing here like a naked idiot waiting for you?” Before you could say anything else, Javi’s clothes were on the ground next to yours, leaving you both bare, hidden amongst the secluded trees. This time, you grabbed his hand, running as you pulled him to the end of the dock, abruptly pausing as you got to the edge. “Are there like, weird things in here? It’s deep enough to jump in, right?” 

“Hermosa, just get in, you’re fine.” 

“Okay, but like-” 

“Osita, get in or I’m gonna push you in.”  

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

“You know I fucking will.” 

“Ugh okay, okay! Just promise me-” 

“1…” 

“Javi, wait-” 

“2…” 

“I’m being serious, don’t you do it! Javier Jesús Peña, I swear to God-” 

“3!” 

Before you could finish, Javi had his arms wrapped around your waist, swinging you back and forth, throwing you over the edge of the dock, limbs flailing as you splashed into the water. You peeked your head up, running your hands over your face as you watched Javi laughing hysterically. You flung your hand against the water, trying your best to splash him as he still stood at the edge thoroughly amused with himself. 

“I hate you, I hope you know that.” You grumbled, splashing him again. “Hey, wait, where are you going?” You shouted as you watched Javi turn around, making his way off the dock. It wasn’t long before you regretted asking the question, as Javi quickly turned around, getting a running start as he launched himself off the edge, drenching you as he drove into the water, making waves that splashed against you upon his entrance. You swam there for a moment, waiting for his head to pop up somewhere next to you, when suddenly, you felt something wrap around your ankle, making you absolutely screech at the top of your lungs. You swam as fast as you could back to the edge of the dock, clinging to the edge as you heard more hysterical laughter behind you, turning around to see Javi cackling to himself as you panted breathlessly, waiting for your heart rate to return to a semi-normal pace. 

“Holy shit, I didn’t think I was gonna scare you that bad, Osita.” He came down from his laughter, looking over at you hanging from the wooden planks still trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay?” He swam closer to you, now seeming like he felt a little remorse for what he had done. 

You took a few more deep breaths before letting go of the dock, looking back at him. Now only an arms’ length away from you, you swam full force towards Javi, wrapping your body around his, trying to wrestle him in the water. “You are an absolute jerk, you know that?” You grunted between your giggles as Javi grabbed you back, spinning you as you thrashed in the water, splashing it in his face before he grabbed your face to kiss him. Your legs locked around Javi’s hips, arms wrapping around his neck as his slipped behind your back, pulling you closer, feeling weightless in the water. He drew away for a moment, taking one of his hands to caress your face, rubbing his thumb along your jaw. 

“I forgive you, I guess.” You smiled as you sat there for a moment, taking in every detail of his face. His messy wet hair, his chocolate brown eyes, the way his mustache shifted above his lips as he smiled, everything about him that made you love him even more than you thought you already could. The way he looked back at you made you feel like there wasn’t anyone else in the world who could ever love you more. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi.” 

He brought you in closer, placing another gentle kiss on your lips. He pulled away again, this time with a look of panic washing over his face.

“What? Are you okay?” 

 “Was that your foot?” 

“My feet are wrapped around your waist?” You looked at him curiously. 

Trying his best to keep calm, Javi swam you both closer and closer to the shore, still carrying you with him as you stepped back on to land. This time, it was your turn to laugh at him, suddenly realizing why he had gotten out so quickly. “Not big and brave now, huh?” 

“At least I didn’t scream like you.” 

“Oh shut up.” You giggled as he set you back down, now sopping wet and shivering next to your pile of clothes. “Any way to explain to your dad why the hell we’re both coming back soaking wet?” You grimaced as you started to pull your sweatshirt over your wet body.

“We’re not.” His face smug as he followed suit opting to only put on his sweatpants, leaving him shirtless as you both headed back through the trees. 

“So…. What? You’re just gonna ask your dad to close his eyes and ignore us when we come back inside?” You raised an eyebrow in confusion looking up at Javi as he reached down to grab your hand as you walked. 

“No. To be honest, Pops is probably already passed out in front of the TV, but of course, you can’t walk through the front door without going past him. We’ll just sneak in through my bedroom window and he’ll be none the wiser.” 

You stopped for a second before laughing at him, continuing to walk as you shook your head. “Sneak in? What are we, 16? I know you said you’ve never brought any girls down here before, but I have a very hard time believing this is the first time you’ve snuck a girl into your room, Javier Peña.” 

“Only a few times.” He looked down at the ground sheepishly as you squeezed his hand. 

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Jav. Wouldn’t be my first time sneaking in either.” You admitted, your cheeks turning slightly red at your admission. 

“Really?” He perked up. “You don’t strike me as the type, but do tell.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You just seem like such a rule follower, maybe it’s the teacher in you.” He shrugged as you rolled your eyes. “What’d ya do?” 

“Fair, I guess. I was 17. One of my friends was having a party at her parents house while they were on vacation, and being the rule follower that I am, I asked my parents and they said no. I was so mad because it felt like they always let my brothers go out and have fun and I never got to. So, once everyone was asleep, I snuck out, rode my bike all the way to my friends house, got drunk out of my mind, which is part of the reason why I can never drink vodka again, and by some miracle, was able to ride my bike back home. When I came in through the side door of the garage, my brother David was in there, already waiting for me. He told me that he could hear me singing at the top of my lungs halfway down the block. He took pity on me and helped my drunk ass up to bed and never told my parents. He’s always been my favorite brother. Then, I pretended to have the stomach flu for the next 3 days to cover up for my hangover.” You both laughed as you finished your walk up to the truck, Javi opening the passenger door for you as you stepped in. 

“No vodka, duly noted. You trying to tell me your singing gets even more obnoxious when you’re drunk?” He smiled as you buckled yourself in. 

“You love my singing, don’t lie. But um… maybe… Just a little. You’ll just have to deal with my sober serenading for now, sorry.” You smirked at him as you shrugged your shoulders, Javi laughing to himself as he shut the door behind you. 

……….. 

As promised, you spent the rest of the ride to the ranch windows down, blaring “Go Your Own Way” from Fleetwood Mac, noting that even though Javi had put on the album not long ago, you were a bit distracted to actually listen to any of the songs. If it was anyone else, Javi would have rather been caught dead than singing along to anything, regardless of song, album or artist. But lucky for him, you weren’t just anyone. You were his everything. Javi was sad when you’re singing came to an end, lowering the music as you pulled up to the house, trying to remain as quiet as possible to not wake up his dad. 

“Too bad you don’t have the James Bond soundtrack in your car, I feel like we’re on some sort of secret mission right now.” You whispered, trying to close the truck door behind you as quietly as possible. 

“C’mon, you dork.” He replied, taking you by the hand and leading you around the edge of his house. You both tiptoed along the wood siding of the house, Javi leading you before stopping under one of the windows, slightly cracked open, pushing out of its frame. “Alright, if I lift you up, can you push it the rest of the way open and climb in?” 

“Sure thing, Agent Peña. What number do you want to be, since you clearly can’t be 007, that one’s already taken. I don’t think they’ll let you be the next James Bond with that ‘stache.” You mumbled, stepping in front of Javi as he got ready to lift you up. 

“Will you just get in the window, please?” He scoffed, squeezing his hands on your hips, getting ready to hoist you. 

“Fine, fine, just say you wanna be lame and move on. I’m ready.” As Javi shot you up, your fingers wrapped around the edge of the windowsill, humming to yourself as you shimmied yourself in. 

“Bada boommmm, bada booommmmm, bahnanah.”  

“Are you seriously singing the James Bond theme song right now?” Javi looked up at the window as you pushed open the rest of the pane, now looking down at him. 

“Yeah, at least one of us should have a little fun with this. You need my help getting in?” 

He hadn’t even answered your question before he was already halfway through the window, pulling himself through and landing on the floor.  

“Showoff.” You grumbled to yourself as he closed the window behind him. Wet and uncomfortable in your clothes, you stripped them off of you, drying yourself off from the towel you had left on Javi’s bed from your shower earlier. Javi did the same, shedding his sweatpants and throwing them next to yours before you both crawled under the covers, curling into each other. You pulled the comforter up over you, nestling against the warmth of Javi’s body. Laying your head on Javi’s chest, Javi ran his fingers through the ends of your hair, still damp from your swim. It wasn’t until you hit the bed that you realized just how exhausted you were, barely keeping your eyes open, your eyelids heavy with sleep.

“Javi?” You asked, looking up at him, your voice low and soft, letting out a quiet yawn. 

“Yes, Osita?” He peered down at you, fingers still twisting through your locks. 

“You really love me?” 

He chuckled warmly, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I really do. Con todo mí corazón. (With all my heart.) Get some sleep, Hermosa, I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

He paused, waiting for you to respond. 

“Hermosa?”  

The only thing he heard after that were your sweet snores humming against his chest, you already sound asleep in his arms. He gave you one more kiss on the head before pulling you closer, shutting his eyes as he whispered one last goodnight.  “Buenas noches, Osita. Soy un hombre afortunado. Tienes todo mí corazón para siempre. Te amo.” (Good night, Osita. I’m a lucky man. You have all of my heart, forever. I love you.)

..........

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

[owepossum]

I have been meaning to comment for a while now but I am very bad with words or getting my feelings across and english isn't my first language. So, sorry if I make any mistakes or if anything I write comes off as rude.

First, I am awed by your writing. The theme for Jayvik/Vanco fic you chose is perfect and I believe you to be a genius. Have you ever come across something and thought, ah I never knew my life would be so much better with this in it? Thats's what your story makes me feel.

I am Indian and queer stories, especially queer-coded characters as Viktor and Silco are nil in our media. We have some very appreciable LGBTQIA+ media but people like Viktor and Silco are never created. Suffice to say, (male) queer characters such as Viktor, Silco and Suguru Geto are something I really like because it goes against the status quo and contradicts gender constructs.

I reason, I write this is because, men being effeminate or taking up roles which society like ours have the majoritarian belief in should belong to women are laughed at. Rather, men/boys acting outside of the expected societal constructs are ridiculed, bullied, squashed under until their souls or their selves cease to exist. So even with the increasing queer media being made in India, women like Vi/Sevika and men like Viktor/Silco/Geto aren't made.

Motherly Silco is something I never knew I direly needed and for this, I have you to thank. Truly. Genius. I have very few things to look forward to everyday and your updates of the story really make my day.

I am not putting any pressure on you, please. I am just attempting to communicate the fact that I love your story. I love your writing. And what great flow. My vocabulary is bad so forgive me but wow, the way you change povs from one character to the other is amazing.

For now, me and my sister both are hyper-fixated on your story and I have reread it many times just to puzzle out the way you write. She reminded me to ask and I have ADHD so I usually forget. Sorry if I am rambling. But please, tell me where you learned to write from and what books you prefer the most. What genres do you like best?

If it displeases you, please you don't have to force yourself to answer.

And your drawings. Wow. You are so talented. Really. I know some might be offended that calling one just talented downplays their hard work. But what I meant was, you are amazing.

I hope you are in good health.

Thank you so much sweet anon! Your English is fantastic. English is my second language too and I totally empathise.

I’m glad you are enjoying the character portrayals. Silco is the dad I wish I had haha 😭 sexism really hurts men as well as women, it’s awful. I think arcane tries to be better with representation but there’s still heaps of issues (I chalk it up to the writers being from privileged demographics + the need to pander to the lowest censor — aka USA / CN).

I am usually a scifi (or hard science flavoured scifi-fantasy) reader / writer. I spent the last 5 years working on and publishing an original illustrated novel so coming back to fandom has been really soothing and a chance for me to write more emotionally indulgent stories!

All that is to say my reading list doesn’t really reflect Devotions haha! But I loved the recursion trilogy by Tony Ballantyne. A bit dry some places but conceptually thrilling. For YA, some timeless favs are His Dark Materials (Phillip Pullman) + Good Omens.

[adhdbisexualramblings]

I really like your Bill Regressor headcanons! Have you thought about a scenario where you describe the circumstances under which Ford was able to positively make him regress? I'd be curious to hear more about that!

Aaaaa thank you!! I’m glad people enjoyed them!

I have thought of that scenario, actually! And I will now give it to you in story form! It’s long so I’m putting it under the cut.

(The story takes place during The Book of Bill’s “drunk karaoke session” (spoilers by the way), meaning that there will be alcohol use and also regression while drunk (Bill has problems). As stated before, Bill’s regression is not typical. His regression is very subtle. I’m hoping I wrote it adequately. :) )

(I also got WAY too into the pre-regression part so apologies regarding that-)

(A quick note: I am aware the Bill and Ford are not great relationship-wise. This story isn’t saying that they are, only that they had good moments together. I’m writing this as a what-if scenario based on headcanons - do with that what you will.)

Title: What a Night

Another knight hops across the board to tear into a bishop with its newly acquired sharp teeth.

“Bill-!” The laugh in Ford’s voice couldn’t be clearer as the horse-shaped piece happily chews its opponent. “That’s not valid!”

“That’s a regular move in inter-dimensional chess! I think you’re just a sore loser.”

Bill swirls his glass and takes a sip himself before offering it to Ford, who takes it gratefully to drink a larger portion. The glass never empties.

“God, you mix a good drink.” He praises with a content sigh, slumping further into the comfortable velvet seat.

“They don’t call me the “universe’s best bartender” for nothin’, you know!” Bill blinks once and leans across the chessboard, knocking over a few pieces, “Wink!”

Stanford grins. He moves to grab a rook and jerks back when it snaps at his finger. He laughs joyously and retries.

“Well, I was Jersey’s best chess player for nearly a decade straight,” to the kids that would play against him, which weren’t many. Still, Ford boasts, “and I can’t assess your bartender thing - I don’t get out into the inter-dimensional bars too often, but you…your drink was…oh, boy,” he giggles, already feeling tipsy. Bill laughs loudly at that; it echoes through the Mindscape.

After many, many, chess rounds that ended in ties, the two companions are more wasted than ever.

“No, Bill, we’ve played We’ll Meet Again five times already.”

Bill pokes an accusatory finger at Ford, hogging their one microphone.

“Shhhut it, IQ. You - you just have terrible taste. ‘K?”

Ford huffs but lets the karaoke happen. He crosses his arms and waits on their couch while Bill slurs the lyrics, completely unaware of his  own volume level. Still, he seems to be enjoying himself. The music in the Mindscape stops. Bill droops in place as soon as it does, microphone dangling in his loose fingers. Singing his heart out to Vera Lynn each and every time probably wasn’t a great idea.

“…OK, I’m bored. Your turn.”

Ford catches the microphone tossed his way and grins widely. Bill replaces his spot on the couch, wiped out. He sighs deeply and adjusts his hat as Ford decides. All Bill needs is a little more pep, he’s sure of it. Hell, he’ll offer some to Fordsy, too. With a clunky wave of his hand, Bill’s “Myoclonic Jerk” appears in his hand. It wobbles in his lax grip before he grips it with both hands and chugs what would be the whole glass if the drink wasn’t infinite. A fuzzy feeling wraps around Bill instantly, and he’s too distracted to realize it’s more than the buzz of alcohol.

“Hey, Sixer!” He leans forward and holds up the glass double-handed like a trophy. Ford whips around from the handy little song selection screen. His eyes fall on the drink. He stumbles closer to the couch to take it.

“Hey, wo-oah, smaller sips.” Bill advises without much actual danger attached to it, clearly amused. He snaps his fingers, popping the drink out of existence after Ford’s share. Ford blinks at his empty hand in confusion, making Bill laugh again. It’s closer to a giggle this time. Ford gathers himself in time to glance at the selection screen.

“Oh, I picked som-something. C’mere.”

Bill floats up, finds himself unsteady, and conjures his cane to “help” him keep his balance despite the fact that the cane is no help at all. He stumbles some and giggles. Bill twirls the cane poorly, squinting at the screen.

“Disco Girl?”

Ford’s drunkenness doesn’t stop him from being self-conscious, it seems. He chuckles with a hesitant smile.

“It’s admittedly catchy.”

Bill crinkles his eye into a grin, bouncing a little.

“Hey, I’m stellar at keeping secrets, Fordsy!”

The song plays.

Saturday night is a night alright Time to groove till the morning light..

Bill knew of Ford’s guilty pleasure for the pop group, but the way he sang with such carefreeness for the entire three minutes had even the triangle surprised. Ford was similarly surprised and overjoyed when his companion also knew the lyrics.

At some point, Ford gets into the groove of the song and starts dancing along. Bill, also plenty giddy, follows suit.

Ford laughs between lyrics, a grin lighting up his features - the laugh booms around the Mindscape. It’s bright, hearty, and from the belly. Bill takes a moment to address the warm pit that laugh leaves in his body. He grins again and gets closer.

Their dancing stays separate for the most part, until Bill slings a hand around Ford’s shoulder and Ford grazes his hand long enough for Bill to feel it.

Bill freezes at the touch. Ford doesn’t, perfectly content. Slowly, Bill takes his hand away to stare at it with a wide eye. The part where Ford’s warm hand had touched his buzzes softly.

The fuzzy feeling from the alcohol and other factors increases. Bill blinks. An odd feeling wells up the longer he keeps thinking of the touch. He’s thinking so much that he doesn’t notice the song end.

“-Bill?” The voice calls.

The addressed demon blinks again - must’ve spaced out. He keeps his touched hand suspended and looks to Ford. The human stopped dancing a while ago and realized his companion had looked off.

Ford must have gotten concerned, Bill realizes. It makes Bill feel…nice.

He finds he wants something from Stanford. It’s not the portal or eternal servitude; Bill knows that’s not it. It ties to the fuzziness he’s been feeling. He decides to figure it out.

He grins and laughs, not fake in the slightest.

“Hah! Do that again!” Bill thrusts his hand to Stanford, the implication being clear as day in his mind, which is starting to feel even happier.

“…Do what?” Ford asks with an owlish blink. He looks down at Bill’s hand and looks to his own six-fingered one, gears turning. It finally clicks, “Hold your hand?”

Seeing nothing wrong with it and susceptible to suggestions, Ford fulfills the request and bring his hand to clasp it around Bill’s smaller one.

The warmth from Ford travels up Bill’s arm and only adds to the warmth in the rest of his body. Bill blinks silently again. Oh. Wow, that felt…comfortable?

Bill slips.

Without registering what he’s really doing, he leans into Ford and grips one of his fingers with his hand, moving to sit on his shoulder. Ford makes a little noise of confusion, to which Bill only giggles at. In a second, all the alcohol is figuratively flushed out of Bill’s system as his earlier excitement dies. Ford frowns.

“Bill? Are you alright?”

Bill gathers himself with a chuckle, “Pfft. Of course I am, Fordsy.” He lies.

Bill’s getting oddly sleepy. He was used to this tiredness, however; it went hand-in-hand with the fuzzy feeling. He squeezes Ford’s finger tighter, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Y’know what? It’s been a long night,” Bill starts, temping down the slight fog in his mind.

“…Has it?” Ford asks confusedly. Even intoxicated, he notices the behavior switch in his muse.

“O-oh, sure!” Bill finds that he’s unusually tired. It must’ve been the alcohol’s effect. He hopes his stammer isn’t noticeable, “I mean, this stuff’ll give ya a heck of a hangover.” He laughs falsely again, snapping his fingers.

Their couch immediately turns into a simple, cozy-looking, bed. Ford stares at it oddly.

Bill leaves Stanford’s shoulder but doesn’t let go of his hand. It gives him too much comfort.

“C’mon, kid. Let’s get you to bed.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bill physically pulls Ford toward the bed with impatience. Stanford stumbles at the sudden movement but follows anyway out of curiosity. He falls on the sheets, Bill falls after him.

It’s unsurprisingly comfortable. Ford had been low on energy, but hadn’t realized how tired he had truly been until now. Not bothering to take anything off, he sprawls out over the blanket.

Bill, meanwhile, lightly kicks his feet off the edge of the bed, sitting near Ford’s stomach. His feet don’t even reach the bottom. Bill stares at them swinging with attention and an oddly childish look in his eye. He giggles quietly before noticing that Stanford has already lain down.

Bill moves to hold Ford’s hand again and crawls closer to quietly lay next to him. Ford’s coat is made of fabric that Bill just found out is really comfortable. He snuggles closer to his side, making sure that the human’s sleep in the Mindscape won’t take him back to the waking world before Bill wants him to. He’ll let Fordsy wake up when he’s sober again. That sounded much better.

Ford doesn’t let go of Bill’s tiny hand - maybe he’s too tired to notice. Bill sighs quietly and flutters his eye closed.

In one movement, the karaoke in the Mindscape starts playing a slow lullaby on low volume and the blankets suddenly cover both Ford and Bill comfortably.

Bill turns his eye into a mouth and shoves his thumb inside, sucking on it soothingly. He squeezes a sleeping Ford’s finger tighter as he himself dozes off.

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello. I'm, um, not entirely sure how to talk about this. I hope it's okay if I misspeak. I'm a human, right, so I think that needs to be clear more than anything, but I've been very involved in the creature community for years now. I live by a great big lake and I always liked to walk down the shore late at night or early in the morning, you know, just to try and get out of my own head, and one night ages ago I accidentally tripped over someone's jacket and twisted my ankle. It was a gorgeous fur jacket, too, not like any kind of fur I'd seen in a jacket before, but just stunningly soft and thick as Hell.

Now, of course I didn't take it, that'd be awful, but also I had just hurt myself in kind of a nasty way and so it wasn't like I had anything else to do but sit by the shore next to the jacket and waited, and yeah, a few hours later one of the lake seals popped its head out of the water, looked at me for a good long while, and then...well, I mean, you know how the rest of the story goes, I'm sure.

Anyway, it's been a few years now and I've become really close to this family. I didn't really know anyone in my town before meeting them and I'm not on speaking terms with my own folks, so in a lot of ways these people have become my family, and it's an honor that they trust me to keep guard of their cloaks and such when they go out. But I've got this problem, right, and it's just...over the years it's felt less and less like I fit in with other humans. All my friends are nightfolk now, my family hates me even more because they're bigots--in this night and age, can you fucking believe it--and it's just like every night I get further and further away from the shore.

I'm just scared because...I don't *want* to stop drifting away. I've had dreams of joining them down there in the lake, practically every night for months on end. I've tried doing research into methods of joining the community but I don't want to become a vampire, I don't fancy any lunar-aligned nonsense, nothing has felt right except selkies, but I can't decide if I'm just self aware enough that I need a push from an outside viewer to try and accept something I already know full well...or if no, actually, that little voice in my stupid head that won't go away that keeps calling me a fraud, an invader, an appropriator--what if the reason it's not going away is because it's right and I really don't belong?

Just...please be honest with me. Am I a complete asshole for spending hours every day trying not to just outright beg my family--sorry, chosen family--to help me sew myself a cloak, or is there something to this?

First of all, reader, please rest assured. As long as you are speaking from a place of kindness and a willingness to learn, you don't need to worry about using all the correct terminology. I always try to listen generously when people come to me in need, and I encourage our followers to do the same.

Unfortunately I can well believe that bigots like your biological relatives still exist. I'm glad you've been able to extract yourself from their hateful society, and have found comfort, support and kinship among the nightfolk.

You say there is a little voice in your head calling you a fraud, casting doubt on the validity of your feelings. As much as you might want to push it away and stop your ears, I want you to listen to that voice, just for a little while. Pay attention to the language it uses and what ideas it seems to have about the world.

And then ask yourself: is this my voice? Does that sound like me? Or does this sound like a last, desperate, wriggling remnant of the people I've worked so hard to distance myself from?

Every one of us is raised with a narrative, a story about the world and our place in it, and how we should treat the people around us. We're told that story by our parents, by our teachers and schoolmates, by television and books and a million other sources. The story is so vast and so all-encompassing, it takes an enormous effort to be able to see any single part of it clearly.

Imagine, then, how hard we have to work to realise some of that story is untrue, or harmful, fed by hatred and fear. To start untangling ourselves from the rotting, strangling roots of the story we've known all our lives, and start planting something new and fresh and honest.

It sounds to me like this little voice is one of those lingering strands of the story you were raised with – one where liminality is nothing to admire or strive for, and where you cannot be trusted to know your own mind, and your own needs. It's time to tell yourself a better story.

You've found people who honour you with their trust and who make you feel supported and loved, as you deserve. You admire them, and want to be like them. None of this sounds “stupid” to me.

This is not a decision to be taken lightly. By all means, take your time, and talk your feelings through with your family. But I think you already know what story you want for yourself, reader – and for what it's worth, I think the world will be better for its telling.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]