#look the most complicated a book can get before it's too frustrating to read in terms of actual writing and how small the words are is like

[tommyssupercoolblog]

I can't read 👍🏻 wiggles

If you see this you’re legally obligated to reblog and tag with the book you’re currently reading

[ladyloveandjustice]

Otherside Picnic Volume 8 Review that Devolves into a Bunch of Quotes and Gushing

I’ve been wanting to do a review of Otherside Picnic Vol 8 because I loved it so much, but haven’t been in the right mindspace to properly convey my enthusiasm. But I’m about to get busy so it’s now or never. Here are my thoughts that are inevitably going to devolve into a bunch of quotes and gushing. Let's just go through it all!

-I loved this so much, first off. It literally inspired me to have an honest discussion with my partner about my own intimacy and relationship quirks and what we want from each other. It made me feel a little better about myself and my own weirdness, that’s how much it affected me. It really got across the relief of just communicating in a relationship, of having frank conversations with your partner, and accepting your differences from the mainstream as okay.

-The conversation about romance, love, and sex being different actually made me tear up, which is how I knew this book would murder me from the beginning. It’s just so nice to see one of my favorite yuri and favorite romantic stories ever acknowledge asexuality and the full spectrum of experiences in such an understanding and thoughtful way.

-I love that this book really recontextualizes the oblivious-to-love protagonist, slow-burn and often stalled development that aren’t uncommon in animanga adjacent media romances and made it into something incredibly interesting. This was already hinted at in previous volumes, but Sorawo’s disconnect with her own feelings and slowness in responding to Toriko wasn’t just to tease the audience, but because her view of romance and her understanding of her own feelings conflicted with societal ideas of romance and it left her lost and confused. It makes everything that came before it so much more meaningful. This is also extremely relatable, and I love that Sorawo was frustrated with the idea of her relationship fitting into a socially acceptable box, when she felt what she had with Toriko was a lot more complicated and far reaching and didn’t want to define it so neatly.

-Honestly reading about Sorawo not being all that into kissing and basically being like "I don't hate it but it doesn't do anything for me" made me feel a little bit less alone and little more confident in talking about this aspect of my experience. ME TOO. GIRL.

-Every single yuri should have a line like “sounds to me like you’re a raging lesbian” from now on. How can anything ever live up to this.

-Toriko looking into sexual abuse gave me a heart attack because at first I thought she was trying to understand what happened with her and Satsuki. But she was researching Sorawo, because the stuff with the Red Person made her realize Sorawo has trauma and I felt so vindicated about my article. Then we have the hilarity of Sorawo, who literally has a “cult mode” when she’s made to relive where she had to deal with abuses from cults, where she becomes like a different person and talks to herself like she’s a separate person and is disconnected from her normal self…claiming she doesn’t have lingering cult trauma and doesn’t dissociate.

And then Toriko going “uhhhh what about the Red Person?”

“Huh oh that didn’t count. Cuz your love saved me.”

THE most un-self aware person, I love her.

(And EVERYONE knows it, especially Toriko, loved this exchange:

“Don’t try to force something I’m not aware of onto me.”

“Sorawo, there aren’t many things about you that you actually display self-awareness of.”

“Wow, insulting much?!” )

-The fact Toriko noticed how thirsty Sorawo was for her the second they met is so funny and makes that scene 100 times better in hindsight.

“It took me by surprise. Here I am, holding you in my arms, and you go and stare at my face, then your eyes start working their way down. I was like, ‘Girl sure has a lot of energy for someone who almost drowned.’”

“So, what? When you were talking about me ogling you before, you meant—”

“Yeah, right from the get-go. From the moment you saw me for the first time.”

Sorawo didn’t realize she was doing it…the entire exchange is hilarious. SO much of this book was hilarious honestly, here are some other choice quotes:

Who would’ve known there could be such a touching scene right next to a shelf stuffed full of erotic manga with titles so incredible that I couldn’t possibly name them...?

And this, the best love confession ever:

“I love you! I love you!”

“For real?”

“Apparently!”

-I really liked that Toriko was genuinely worried Sorawo might not have consented to the previous kisses and might be bothered by them. It built on the ongoing theme of Toriko struggling with emotional and physical boundaries, giving her such good character growth, and It shows a concern and care most stories gloss over.

…Which is kind of a stark contrast to the lack of concern she shows about that time she hit Sorawo in volume 6, despite Sorawo bringing it up as a problem. This has been an ongoing issue that’s bothered me, and it’s been mentioned often enough I hope Miyazawa is going to actually do something to address it. He DID address the questionable consent of the earlier kisses, going beyond my expectations, so I actually have my fingers crossed this is something we’re going to explore and confront. It’s really jarring compared to the rest of how well everything else has been handled, and is the only mark against the story, so I’m hoping this is intentional. The Toriko who worries Sorawo might have been sexually abused and goes above and beyond to try to be sensitive and understand her and the Toriko who is dismissive of the time she hit her (now) partner seem so in opposition to each other, and I there could be some interesting exploration and resolution of that.

(Miyazawa does mention something about having to treat serious issues casually because of Sorawo's detached, cynical POV and hoping readers will understand; and I think it's likely he was referring to that, which gives me more confidence).

-Sorawo understands Toriko’s moms are lesbians now I’m so proud of her.

-the fact that Toriko wanted to fuck in her dead parents bedroom …she has so many problems, I cherish her.

-I loved getting more Toriko backstory and her moms. Love Sorawo being like “wow I probably should have asked about this but…” YES YOU SHOULD HAVE, FOR MY SAKE. But Sorawo’s focus on living in the here and now, and being content with the Toriko in the here and now, is such an interesting aspect of her.

-EVERYthing about the final scene was so good. Like how can I even talk about it? Toriko fucking Sorawo with her weirdass interdimensionally-corrupted hand while getting jazzed by Sorawo's magic eye is just PEAK lesbian fantasy, no other series had delivered this exact weirdness that I want, thank you for being there for all of us bizarre sapphics.

“I...might make you go crazy.”

“That’s okay.”

Toriko’s hand drew closer. It meant something different now than it had before. If Toriko touched me now, I’d be the one to go insane. She snuggled up to me, so close our noses could touch, and with a voice full of heated passion, she whispered, “Let’s go crazy. Together.”

“Girl hit me with your evil eye, let’s get real fucked up” I love them, they’re such freaks and I am here for it. THE PASSION. THE METAPHOR. THE PURE CHUUNI WISH FUFILLMENT.

-Honestly I just highlighted the entire final scene because it hit me right in my weird gay little soul the way few other things have and I want to be able to whip these out the next time some loser says wlw media doesn’t have poetic declarations of love and passion so I’m just going to go through them.

Here’s one:

But that’s not what happened. Toriko looked beautiful, opening before me like a flower in bloom, and I was aware of every minute branch of the tree, down to their very tips…[]

Toriko became rude, polite, lewd, or embarrassed. I didn’t have the composure to focus or think as I watched, so Toriko changed from one thing to another as my gaze wandered. Laughing, getting angry, crying, fearing, moaning—feeling as if she were flowing from one state to the next, in constant flux, and yet in all of them simultaneously.

Sorawo accepting all sides of Toriko, all her complexity, how she’s everything all at once! And the fact they have such amazing sex they basically GO TO THE OTHERSIDE? Dimension transcending lesbian sex? Showstopping, incredible.

The way her hand moved, tracing the outline of my body—its true outline—was as gentle as could be, sensitive yet bold, overflowing with care, incredibly unreserved, and audacious. It felt like it was packed full of all the experiences of being touched by another person. In another way, different from mine, Toriko was unraveling the person that I was too. I was being decomposed, broken apart. The things that had been pressed into a human form were decompressed, and expanded outwards without limit.

This is how you do a sex scene. If your partner doesn’t unravel you and make you see all the shattered pieces of yourself, is it even worth it? I love the motif of falling apart but becoming more whole at the same time- isn’t that just every human experience all wrapped up into one?

I had been afraid to look at Toriko. Toriko had been afraid to touch me. Now, as we were looking at, or touching, our partner directly, tossed about on the waves of madness, we began to gradually find a way to take control of the situation.

The idea of how maybe you can’t help losing your minds when you look and feel all the other person is…but maybe if you lose your minds together it will be okay. Romance.

These two beasts with all these bodies converged through their desire for one another and were bound together. We were blending together at the interfaces where we connected. The different ‘us’s melted together, without ever becoming a perfect whole, but without fully separating either. Like a chimera made from two types of living being. Or two galaxies colliding.

“We became a chimera” is the absolute nerdiest way to describe making love and thus perfect for them (also lol the beast with two backs).

That’s too long, so how about shortening it to Soratori?” I burst out laughing as I remembered the time she’d tried to use the name Soratori Road for what we now called Route 1 in the other world. “

That’s like one of those ship names,” I told her.

“What’re those?”

“You’re a mangaka’s daughter and you don’t know that?!”

“Nope, not a clue. Is it something dirty?”

“Well, maybe?”

“Hmm.”

Okay, so Sorawo is clearly in some fandom and ships something. Place your bet on what it is. Probably she ships creepypasta monsters.

Do you know what the ‘nue’ is?”

“It’s a Japanese monster, right? Made up of a bunch of different animals mixed together.” “Yeah, that’s the one. As an extension of that, the word can also refer to something that doesn’t have a discernible form.”

[...]

While we were there, the two of us got all mixed up together, right? Intertwined, melting into one, like animals... Depending on how you look at it, you might say we were like a nue.”

“So, basically, if you wanted a word to represent our relationship, we wouldn’t be ‘lovers,’ or ‘accomplices’...but a ‘nue’?”

Okay forget what I said this is ACTUALLY the nerdiest way to describe your relationship. And speaking of nerds, I love this stupid conversation:

“It’s cute. Nue. I like the sound of it. Maybe I’ll get a tattoo of the kanji.”

“You’d take it that far?”

“You’re not gonna get a matching one?”

“They might not let us in the hot springs in Japan anymore. You sure?

” “Huh?! I wouldn’t like that... You think it’d be okay if we put them somewhere no one will see?”

“Where would no one see? This is sounding painful, and I’m not really on board with it.”

“Wha?”

-

Anyway, yeah, this section was everything I wanted, no notes. Toriko and Sorawo have the most demented, fantastical sex possible, having a threesome with the otherside because they all are strange and wonderful, being the nerdiest dorks it’s possible to be, their relationship is now a chimera because that’s even better and more all encompassing that something boring like lovers, Miyazawa really gave us it all, love wins, gays win. What more can I say? I adore this series.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Gosh, some people in this fandom are so frustrating. It's like, God forbid we have some nuance! I haven't read the books, but I love the story, I love them all, I hate them all at times, but most of the time I relate to them. And even when I can't, I can see some fucked up logic for where they're coming from. Like, these vampires have endured way more for way longer than most of us do in our alives. If we're already messed, imagine them lol. I do believe Louis loves Armand, that he even fell in love, but feelings are complicated. I think for vampires things are even more intense and fluid than us. I believe he loved Armand and Lestat. But there's no denial that Lestat is it for him and this whole time he was in the back of his mind. Armand might have gotten a piece of his heart, but he was never able to get the whole thing like Lestat did as first. Call twin flames, soulmatism, vampire bound or whatever... Doesn't mean Loumand doesn't have its importance, Loumand was meant to happen, just not meant to last. And it's okay since Armand finds Daniel too? I do agree they could've given Loumand more stuff, I liked the flirtation on 2x02 and they had a sweet chemistry, and I did hope for it, but for all of these episodes there was never an episode where Lestat was completely out of Louis's mind. Even on 2x05, after dreamstat left, we have that messy interview where he's like a petty drunk ex talking about him lol. So there's nothing crazy in acknowledging he was never really over, even when he was with Armand. Or to assume he was feeling Lestat on that scene with Madeleine. Specially because he was looking weird and uncomfortable even before shit went down.

Exactly.

Feelings... are very complicated. And messy.

And the show is not shying away from any aspect of it all.

[hsslilly-blog]

OC ask game by @/yvesdot; from here.

Answered for/by Blair as requested by @ryp3004!

Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite? - Blair has lots of stuffed animals! Their bed is covered in stuffed animals and they made sure not leave a single one behind when they moved from Scotland. Their favourite one is a white bunny named Hop Hop.

Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child? - Yes, yes, and of course. Blair doesn't have any pets, but they and their brother used to take care of their family's sheep when they were younger. As for children, they really love them and it's their dream job to work with kids. In high school, they babysit for their neighbours and friends for money. Blairbysitting.

Ask them to describe their love interest. - "He's funny and he's nice to me."

Do they look good in red? - They didn't think so at first. Blair wears almost exclusively blue clothes since that's their favourite colour and they like how they look in it. They start wearing brighter clothing as they grow older and start making an effort to challenge their rigidity (and, like, character development). So they do look good in red, eventually!

Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about? - Blair likes writing and giving speeches. They really like public speaking. They can give a speech about any topic, really, just give them some time to think about it. I think Blair would love to give a speech on Gaelic or maybe chess notation history. And they do often talk about friendship and acceptance, too.

Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is? - Blair will always go to Autumn for advice, no matter the subject or the situation. They often agree in most topics, and if they happen to disagree Blair can trust Autumn to be honest with them and tell them how it is. They also trust Wes' takes on situations. And before he passed, Colin's word was truth. Meanwhile, Blair will not hear Sakura, ever; they believe Sakura gets too caught up on her own biases while trying to be "just" and "honourable". Also Sakura just bugs them at times.

Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words. - Me: Caring, thoughtful, bitter. - Blair: Smart, cowardly, neurotic.

Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them? - Blair loves complex puzzles. They like every single type of puzzle actually: jigsaw puzzles (their favourites), crosswords (close second), sudoku, riddles, chess; the list goes on. They love anything that makes them reflect in silence.

Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)? - No. Blair is a very concrete thinker.

What age do they most want to be right now? - They haven't given much thought to this.

They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save? - Fix their problems + save. Blair didn't grow up having money and it wasn't an issue until they moved to Glasgow and got into a private school through a scholarship. They felt very alienated. After their parents divorced and they moved to the States with their mother, their situation got a little more complicated without their father's income. So winning the lottery would do them good.

Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)? - No. Blair doesn't get how romance works and it often confuses them, so they choose books with little to no romance. They have no issue in reading books/watching films about love though, they just tend to avoid it.

Name one thing their parents taught them. - Their father taught them to always be understanding of people's situations. He also taught them how to play the piano. Their mother taught them how to lie.

Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any? - No. There are no guilty pleasures for Blair, which is interesting considering their entire relationship with guilt and shame. It is still a work in progress, but seeing their friends being so passionate about the things they like (especially Nishan) makes Blair feel more comfortable with their dorky side... which is all their sides.

What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work? - They have a problem with finality. So, spending any time on something that won't last.

If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear? - Blair is pretty happy with their current style. Most of it is thrifted, which does add to the vintage aesthetic. Maybe with more money they'd be able to afford nicer pieces, but they like to think that the money constraints forces them to come up with creative combinations.

Do they like children? - Yes. They don't desire children themselves, but would love to work with them in the future.

Kissing: tongue or no tongue? - Gross. Why are you asking them this?

Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews? - Blair really likes studying, planning and practicing, and they always put a lot of effort into it. They like making flashcards for tests and making bullet point lists for presentations. Autumn is always the designed listener when they want to practice a speech or presentation.

What do they like that nobody else does? - Crucifixes. Blair has a crucifix collection.

What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw? - Wildly misrepresenting them. For Blair, it is very hurtful to think someone they felt comfortable enough to open themselves to don't actually know them. Even so if it's done in bad faith, somehow. They almost break up with Wes when he accuses them of having no integrity after Ace leaks that one tape.

Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to? - Blair doesn't use pet names or nicknames with people! The exceptions are Nish (because it's Nish) and Wes (for obvious reasons). Otherwise, they call you by your full first name. They have no opinions on pet names for themselves. I have it so Wes calls them Princess (jokingly), and Colin used to call them Thistle.

Stability or novelty? - It depends. I'd say they're naturally very keen on novelty (and see the importance of trying new things), but at the moment they prefer stability.

Honesty or charity? - Honesty.

Safety or possibility? - Safety.

Talent or effort? - Effort.

Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)? - Resentment.

Would they date a fixer-upper? - Blair sees everyone as a fixer-upper, including themselves. This is not really an expression that exists to them. Relationships demand effort and change from both sides, anyway. They wouldn't "fix" a person, as it's not their place to do it.

What recurring dreams do they have? - They dream a lot with Colin. In those dreams, they're always aware he's dead, so it's a strange feeling.

What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven? - Everything. Blair doesn't think they deserve forgiveness.

[kohakhearts]

request: palletshipping, hanahaki?

wc: 7 158 read on ao3 here

Gary is eleven years old the first time he throws up a flower petal, just south of Viridian City. At first, he thinks it is his mind playing tricks on him; maybe he hit his head when that Pokémon in the gym knocked him out. But it happens again the next morning, and he knows with a leaden sort of dread settling deep in his stomach it’s not.

Gingerly, he picks the flower up, considers it with an appropriate level of emotional distance: it’s thin and round, deeply yellow. When he pinches it between his thumb and index finger, it is small enough that it seems to disappear entirely. There’s still a slight tickle in his throat, but a deep breath in and out assures him there’s nothing wrong with his lungs.

Though it somewhat complicates his return home, he also knows he has a better chance of finding information tucked away on a dusty shelf at Oak Laboratory than out on the road. He tells his grandfather his occasional cough is nothing more than a passing cold he must have picked up on the road, a story which only really gains credibility when Ash comes by and the fits become somewhat more frequent. Even if a coincidence, Gary can’t quite help taking his frustrations about it out on Ash for the handful of days they both stay in Pallet Town.

Unfortunately, his search of his grandfather’s shelves leaves him with about as much information as he had to begin with, being basically none. Most of the books are about Pokémon, rather than human, diseases; and apparently, this particular malady hasn’t been observed in Pokémon.

When he leaves Pallet Town again, it gets better. So he redoubles his training and puts flowers out of his mind in order to focus on the League. Only every other night, when he wakes up with a headache and ringing ears, does his cough re-emerge. It seems obvious, then, that it’s related to what happened at the Viridian Gym—and he is not ready to face the implications of that yet. Not until he wins the League. Not until he proves that he is stronger than that armoured Pokémon made him feel.

But it is not meant to be; his fourth round opponent sends out a Golem against his Nidoking and he has been here before, only this time his grandfather and Ash are watching, and when his Pokémon falls he falls with him. A cough wracks his body, but the petal doesn’t dislodge itself from his throat until later, when Ash finds him outside.

“Gary!”

Gary turns around with a wry smile, which he can’t maintain for long. When he coughs, Ash’s frown only deepens.

“Gary?”

He waves a dismissive hand at him, while the other comes up to cover his mouth just in time to catch the flimsy orange petal before it passes between his lips. He wraps his hand around it and drops his fist down to his side before Ash can see anything.

“That trainer was lucky I was distracted by the girls cheering for me,” he says. His confidence is easy and comfortable, and even if Ash doesn’t look entirely convinced, it’s still enough to let him get away. Another day, another time, perhaps he would have stayed behind to see how Ash fared in his battle, but today he wants nothing more than to get away from here.

As they drive away, he crushes the petal between his fingers, then sends the wilting pieces back with the wind, away from him. The sooner he gets away from here, the sooner he’ll get over it. He’s sure of it.

*

The flower petals don’t completely go away, nor, however, do they grow worse. It quickly becomes something he adjusts to and deals with, because he has to. He doesn’t try to research it any more than he has, if only because he can’t bring himself to ask anyone else about it. Scouring the Internet on a Pokémon Centre computer, he learns it is a rare affliction commonly associated with repressed feelings of some kind. So long as he still wakes up with nightmares of that Pokémon, he supposes it won’t get any better, but those are lessening, too, as time goes on. It must be a matter of patience, then.

After that, he mostly tries to put it out of his mind. It bothers him only once every few days, if that. By the time he returns to Pallet Town again, he has found ways to make his coughing less obvious; sometimes, he can even swallow them down completely, though it results in an aching pain in his chest that he prefers to avoid whenever possible. Around Ash and his grandfather in particular, he leaves room for the ache, knowing it is better than their questions or, worse, their concerns.

He thinks he has it all figured out, until the night before his battle with Ash at the Silver Conference, he chokes up not just a petal, but an entire flower.

It is round and yellow, small, as if not yet fully grown. He is no botanist, has never been particularly interested in plants beyond their usefulness to him and his Pokémon. He holds it up to the light in his room, then far away, trying to glean…something from it, but there is nothing. Umbreon, who was sleeping near his feet before his coughs roused her, stretches up to sniff at it.

“I guess it’s kinda pretty,” he allows. “If you like that kind of thing.”

“Bre?”

“Forget about it. After we’re finished here, it’ll get better. It has to.”

She doesn’t look fully convinced, but dutifully lies back down. Her eyes follow him through the dark as he leans over to put the flower on the table beside his bed, then slips back into bed and turns on his side, so he can’t see it any longer.

In the morning, it has already wilted. He tells himself he pays it no mind as he grabs his things and leaves the room behind to prepare for their battle.

Facing against Ash, it is easy to forget about the things that are weighing down him. He is a passionate and spirited battler, always intent on keeping his competition on their toes; a long time ago, Gary thought Ash would never grow into the rival he was sure as children they would be for each other, but even from across the battlefield, the glint in his eyes is impossible to miss. Gary swallows hard against the flowers in his throat and throws himself into the battle, the way Ash has always wanted him to do.

His loss comes with a sense of serenity. Any doubt still lingering about his next steps flees the moment the referee declares Blastoise unable to battle. He has made it as far as he ever needed, or truly wanted, to. And on the other side is Ash—shocked, until the realization hits him. And then he is smiling so brightly Gary wonders how he ever let himself believe he wanted to take that away from him.

He throws up a second flower shortly after that, much like the first one. He doesn’t know why looking at it for too long makes his eyes begin to sting. He doesn’t know why it makes his chest hurt so badly to drop it on the ground and stamp beneath his foot, as if it were still somehow rooted to his lungs.

After he is sure that it isn’t going to happen again, he asks Ash to meet him by the lake, and returns the top half of their Poké Ball. It takes a heaviness from him, lessens the ache, even if just a bit. He holds Ash’s hand tightly in his and smiles and really means it when he says that, this time, he’ll be there to cheer him on.

There’s nothing between them, then. Ash opens his mouth, as if to say something, but then thinks better of it and clamps it shut. He just smiles instead. When they let go, Gary turns away first. He doesn’t let himself look back.

*

His next return to Pallet Town is short but necessary as he considers his next steps. Research is a different path, which will lead him other places and introduce him to new people. It will be like starting from square one all over again.

During this time, however, the flowers only grow bigger, and come more frequently. He spends a few days in bed with what he tells his grandfather must be the flu, just trying to breathe through the stabbing pain in his sides. By now, it has been just over two years since this began; and while the venom of his memories has lessened, the flowers only seem to have developed thorns of their own.

They’re worse at night, when everyone else is asleep. This has been true from the beginning, like loneliness is a prerequisite to their growth. A few days into his stay at the lab, it is so awful he thinks perhaps he really does have the flu, and yet no amount of heaving over the toilet produces anything more than specks of velvety yellow and orange. Most of the flowers are not in full bloom; many come apart somewhere in his throat, leaving his choking that much more pronounced.

It's like this that Tracey finds him, knocking hesitantly on the door and then poking his head inside.

“Hey, Gary?” he calls. “You all right in there?”

In answer, he throws up again.

“Okay, stupid question.” Tentative footsteps echo behind him, until Tracey is kneeling down next to him. He seems to debate for a moment whether or not it’s a good idea, but after a pregnant pause puts a hand on Gary’s shoulder and awkwardly begins to rub his back.

Gary doesn’t have the strength to push him away, nor the mental fortitude to try anyway and risk revealing the source of his illness. Unfortunately, it is impossible to remain in this position when coughs tear through him again and he retches. He spits a few broken petals into the toilet and at least leans back in defeat.

“Oh,” says Tracey, very quietly.

Gary attempts to clear his throat, to little success. Apparently clueing in, Tracey gets to his feet and tells him, “Let me grab you some water, all right? Stay there.”

As if Gary could have gone anywhere if he wanted to. He shoots a pitiful glare at the toilet, as if it is to blame for the flowers now swimming in it. When Tracey returns, he takes the water without a fight, just grateful to have something to relieve the scratchiness in his throat.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” Tracey says after a moment, “but, um…how long has this been going on?”

Gary directs the glare at him, now; he puts his hands up in surrender.

“I know, sorry. It’s just—it doesn’t seem like your grandpa knows. Does he?”

Minutely, Gary shakes his head.

“Does anyone know?”

“No,” Gary rasps. “And you can’t tell anyone, either. It’s not a big deal, all right?”

Tracey’s gaze is kind, yet somehow also unrelenting. He says, “It is a big deal, Gary. I… It’s a rare disease, but I knew someone who had it. In the Orange Islands, we call it Hanahaki Disease. She, um, passed away from it. If you let it go untreated for too long…”

Gary tries not to focus on the part of that statement he leaves hanging between them. “There’s a treatment?”

Tracey winces. “Well…not exactly. How much do you know about it?”

Gary’s grip tightens on the glass. He tells himself it is only that tension making his hand tremble so much. “It’s psychological,” he finally manages. “It’s because of—feelings. If you don’t deal with that…”

A beat passes, and then Tracey kneels down in front of him again. Gingerly, he eases the glass free from Gary’s grasp, then sets it down on the floor between them.

“Sort of,” he says. “But you’re smarter than that, Gary. Pretty sure you can tell it’s not just in your head. It’s also here.” He gestures to his own chest, and then down to his midsection. “And here.”

As Gary watches, unbidden, he thinks of the flower he crushes under his foot, during the Silver Conference. He does not know why, despite the pain of leaning over the toilet for who-knows-how-long before Tracey came around, this is what makes tears spring into his eyes now.

“Then—what’s the treatment?”

“I guess you could say it’s honesty. But I think the first person you have to be honest to is yourself, right?” He hesitates a moment, and then says, “The feeling. What is it?”

Under the weight of his kind stare, Gary falters. Suddenly, his certain diminishes; if it were truly to do with the nightmares and the memories and the fear he’s carried since the Viridian Gym, he would not be here now. Would he?

That’s when it started. So what else happened that day?

He closes his eyes, thinking back. Ash was there. He picked him up off the floor. He looked him in the eyes, open and earnest. The memory of his hands around Gary is more poignant than that of the explosion that knocked him off his feet in the first place.

It got worse recently. He clenches his hands into fists, remembering how it had felt holding Ash’s. Passing him the other half of that Poké Ball. The bright light in his eyes. The ambitious joy in his smile.

He swallows down a sudden lump in his throat and opens his eyes again.

“I don’t know,” he lies.

“Gary…”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Gary says again, voice tight from the flower lodged somewhere within it. He thinks to try swallowing it down again, but there is no point, when Tracey already knows the truth anyway. He coughs a few times, until he is able to spit up the yellow abomination. He holds it out in his shaking hand, vision blurring somewhat.

“It’s pretty,” Tracey offers after a moment. “I don’t know if it’s true, but…I’ve heard that the flowers that grow inside the person afflicted with the disease represent the person they love. So I guess it must be someone fairly bright, right? Someone who…makes you happy?”

Gary snorts out a laugh. “Is this supposed to make me happy?”

Tracey puts a hand over the flower, which draws Gary’s eyes away from it and up to his face.

“Love isn’t supposed to hurt,” he says seriously. “The only way to make it stop hurting is by being honest about it.”

Gary just shakes his head. He can’t tell Tracey. He can barely bear to examine this realization himself.

Tracey sighs, but gives his hand a small squeeze and then reaches down and passes the water back to him anyway. “Well, at least make sure you take care of yourself. And if you ever need anything…”

There’s something terribly ironic about Ash’s friend offering him a helping hand, as if this whole thing isn’t clearly Ash’s fault in the first place. Tracey is nice enough, though, and Gary doubts he would try to involve Ash unless Gary actually asked him to. Still…it’s not worth the headache, when Gary knows he figured it out too late and now he’s missed his chance. If he said anything to Ash now…

Love isn’t supposed to hurt. Yeah, of course it’s not.

And Gary isn’t interesting in hurting Ash now, just to give himself some relief.

He drinks the rest of the water. Tracey waits for him.

Finally, he passes the glass back and says, “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Tracey accepts it with a smile. “Sounds good. Why don’t you go get some sleep? I’m sure I’ll see you in the morning.” He pauses, but only briefly. “Why don’t you leave that here with the other ones? I’ll clean them up.”

Gary stares at him for a moment, and then slowly unfurls his hand from around the flower. He lets it fall into Tracey’s outstretched hand, then hurries up to his feet and heads back for his room. Pure physical exhaustion is the only thing that ensures he falls asleep once he is in bed; it does not stop him from tossing and turning, his dreams an all-consuming shadow around his best friend’s smile, his hands, his burning, passionate eyes.

*

He tries to leave before Ash can catch up to him, but Ash finds him anyway. He always does. And he sends him off with the half of the Poké Ball and a heaviness in his lungs, like it is no big deal.

Mostly, his first year and a half as a researcher are spent trying to cope with the flowers growing in his lungs. A part of him is convinced he can just live with it, that even if his life is in any sort of danger, that danger hangs suspended far in the future. There must be something he can do in between then, if he just…gets stronger, learns more, tries harder.

On Sayda Island, he mostly is able to ignore it. It comes and it goes, he finds, and when he is occupied with something else, it tends not to be so bad, at least until that thing becomes stressful and overwhelming, like the rampaging Aerodactyl.

Which is a perfect time for Tracey and his grandfather to come for a visit, too.

Tracey is cautious about broaching the subject, but it becomes unavoidable when, shortly before he and Samuel are about to leave, Gary bends over, heaving, and chokes out a few crumpled petals, and then finally a large, round flower.

Dora and Crystal and thankfully preoccupied with Aerodactyl and don’t notice anything. But Gary’s grandfather sees it, and if Gary thought it was bad enough that Tracey knew, well…now he kind of wishes he could sink into the ground and be done with it.

“Gary, what…?”

“It’s not that bad,” he hurries to reassure. “It’s been happening a lot less than before.” He pointedly doesn’t mention that the flower in front of his feet now is the biggest one he’s seen yet. Even Tracey would have no way of figuring that out.

“This is…” Samuel blinks. Shakes his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Gary looks away. He hates when his grandfather gets that look, like he has somehow done something wrong or bad for Gary, like this is his fault rather than Gary’s.

“Gary’s been monitoring his symptoms,” Tracey jumps in quickly. “Right now, they’re not so bad, right, Gary?”

“Oh, uh…” He clears his throat and turns back to face them both. “That’s right. I just…I’m not in a position to do anything about it, that’s all.”

Samuel’s lips thin. “I don’t know much about this particular malady, but I understand the solution is fairly straightforward.” Suddenly, his eyes flash, and dread flows from Gary’s head down to his feet. Leave it to his grandfather to have him all figured out in ten seconds flat.

“You can’t tell him,” he says, and feels like he’s begging but can’t quite help it. “I’m not coming back. Look—Dora and I were talking, and she has some friends working with Professor Rowan in the Sinnoh region. I spoke to him. After I’m finished here, he’s going to give me a position in his lab. I can’t go back now.”

“Really?” Tracey beams. “That’s awesome, Gary!”

“Now, Tracey, wait just a moment…” Samuel is frowning. Deeply. “Gary, I understand you don’t want to leave things in the air for so long, but surely…”

“I don’t even know where he is,” Gary points out. “We’ll see each other again someday, but for now, I’m doing my own thing, and he’s doing his. Isn’t that enough, Gramps?”

“Well…”

“It’s not usually this bad,” he tries again. “It’s just ‘cause everything was so—hectic. I’m keeping an eye on things. You believe me, don’t you?”

Finally, his grandfather’s composure crumbles. He heaves a short sigh, then offers a watery smile.

“I believe you,” he promises. “But I hope Tracey’s right about you monitoring your symptoms. If they ever worsen…”

“I know, I know.”

Samuel gives him a long, searching look, and then nods. “Very well. Then, I’m happy for you, Gary, truly. The Sinnoh region will have plenty of excellent opportunities just waiting for you. Don’t forget to call every now and then!”

Relief lessens the tension in Gary’s jaw enough so that he is able to must up a genuine smile. “I won’t. Thanks for visit, Gramps, Tracey. See ya soon. Have a safe trip back.”

They both bid him farewell, then turn begin making their way toward the boat. Only when Gary is just about to turn away himself does he hear Tracey yelp, “Ash?!”

He shakes his head, sighing. Leave it to his grandfather to spill his secrets for him. All he can do is hope Tracey will keep him from telling anyone even more implicated than Tracey is.

*

True to his word, Gary does make an effort to call often, and dutifully reports with at least a degree of honesty on his current symptoms. They remain about the same, though his stress levels rise somewhat significantly under Professor Rowan’s tutelage. He is a severe man, with big expectations; Gary intends to surpass them all, but this grows increasingly difficult when he is throwing up flowers every other day.

It is manageable, though. Gary returns to Pallet Town for a short while after he hears Ash has completely the Battle Frontier challenge. He isn’t sure what he expects to say to him, if anything at all; but after not seeing him in so long, he can’t bring himself to think about the disease or the crushed up flowers or anything, really, other than how nice it will be to see him again after all this time.

And it is nice. In the time they’ve spent apart, Ash has grown—physically, of course, but it’s more than that. There’s a new confidence in him, unlike the arrogant self-certainty he has after he toured the Orange Islands. This is more peaceful. Assurance, security—nothing more or less than belief in himself and his Pokémon.

It is the first time Gary’s seen him in person since he left, shortly after realizing the truth of his feelings. Aside from a postcard he sent when Ash was competing in the Ever Grande Conference, they haven’t exactly shared words with each other in just as long. But Gary watched his battles on TV; Gary asked his grandfather about his travels and his Pokémon and his friends; Gary thought about this moment, and what he would say when it came, so often it sometimes kept him awake at night at least as often as the flowers have.

But he doesn’t say anything. He just accepts Ash’s request to battle, and hopes that says enough for Ash to know he isn’t giving up on his dream, and neither should he. Neither Tracey nor his grandfather try to hold him back when he says he is leaving, but, then again, neither does Ash.

It’s just as well, too, because Gary coughs up some more flowers not too far from the lab. Orange and yellow petals drift down around his feet. He takes care to step around them when he finally moves on.

*

After he returns to Professor Rowan’s lab, his condition worsens.

He is not so stupid as to think Ash won’t be motivated to follow him to Sinnoh after their battle. At the same time, he knows it is still too soon for their paths to converge. When he is in the middle of a briefing with the professor and begins vomiting blood and vomit over the side of his chair, he is too overwhelmed by the pain of it to notice that his mentor has come around and kneeled down in front of him until he murmurs, “Zinnias.”

Gary coughs once, twice, then looks up at him, dazed. “What?”

“These flowers are called zinnias. But I suppose you must know that already.”

Slowly, Gary shakes his head. “I don’t know anything about flowers, other than that these ones’ve been a real pain.”

Rowan’s moustache twitches. “Yes, I would imagine they have been. I must admit I’ve never seen this phenomenon before in person, but it doesn’t appear to be new to you. What do you know about it?”

And it’s strange, in a way, how relaxing it is. It is as if they are discussing a theory of Pokémon evolution—he grills Gary for the facts, then acknowledges the gaps in his understanding and sends him off somewhere to fill them in for himself.

“It’s caused by unacknowledged feelings,” he says. “Untreated, it can kill a person.”

Rowan raises an eyebrow at that. “And yet you’re sitting here now.”

“It’s not that bad yet,” Gary mutters, though the excuse doesn’t feel right when the words are coated in a thin film of iron.

Rowan says nothing to that. Instead, he asks, “And what is the treatment?”

“Honesty. To the target of the feelings.”

“And what of the afflicted?”

“Well, I’m being honest now, if that’s what you mean.”

“In a sense, I suppose.” He strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Then, if there were somewhere you could go or something you could do to ease the symptoms, it would be…?”

Gary closes his eyes and really thinks about this. He imagines that, by now, Ash is halfway across the ocean on his way here, but if their battle showed Gary anything, it’s that he’s still finding his path. And Gary isn’t so different, isn’t he?

He opens his eyes again. Says, “There isn’t anything. It’s just psychological management.”

But Rowan shakes his head. “No problem,” he says in that low, rumbling voice of his, “has only one potential solution. Perhaps you ought to think it over before your next assignment, and then we can re-evaluate.”

Gary chews on this for a moment. He doesn’t mistake any of it for a question, or even a helpful suggestion. This is simply how the professor operates.

At last, he nods. “All right. I’ll think it over. But I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Rowan looks down at the flowers around Gary’s feet. His eyes are decidedly dark.

“Come back if it worsens,” he says. “There are things that can be done if the cure is truly out of reach.”

In the moment, Gary doesn’t ask about it, but when his lungs start to feel heavy every waking moment of every day, after his next run-in with Ash during his assignment with the Shieldon, he begins to consider what exactly Professor Rowan meant.

The answer disturbs him more than he would like to admit:

“There are surgical procedures,” he explains gruffly. “In essence, they will remove the source of the growth from your organs. But it’s highly invasive, and not often done. The mortality rate is too high for most to justify it.”

“But some people survive it?”

“Certainly. Those who do go on to be quite lonely, however.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simply, they lose the ability to love. Much as the heart reacts to the repression of love by growing flowers, it similarly reacts to the unnatural removal of them by altering its function. In a way, it’s not so different from some phenomena observed in Pokémon evolution.”

Gary’s skin feels very cold, suddenly. He rubs absently at his arms. “And that’s the only alternative to the cure?”

“There are plenty of supposed natural remedies, though no scientific evidence to back them up. Some have attempted seances with ghost and psychic Pokémon, while others have supposedly attempted communicating with Legendaries in hopes of establishing a cure. Here in Sinnoh, Mesprit is a rather popular choice for such woes, so far as I understand it.”

Gary imagines himself begging to a Lake Guardian to rid him of his disease, then promptly dismisses the thought with a short, despairing laugh.

“I think I’d rather try my luck with the surgery,” he mutters.

Professor Rowan is silent for a moment, and then he clears his throat. “Forgive me for saying so, but I do wonder if there’s more to your decision to not simply confront the object of your affections than you believe there is. I will not presume to understand your situation, Gary. But I doubt whatever ramification you’re fearing is enough to risk your life over.”

When Gary says nothing, he just sighs. “In any case, there have been some reports about habitat disruptions in the caves of Mt. Cornet I was hoping you might be able to look into…”

That is the end of the conversation, but it stays with Gary for a long time, especially as his body begins fighting against him more and more. When he sees the Lake Guardians at Lake Valor, helpless to save them, he doesn’t think about the flowers. He doesn’t think about whether or not they could help. He sees Ash at the end of it all, one of the heroes standing in the way of Team Galactic, and all he can do is promise to return the Adamant and Lustrous Orbs back to Celestic Town.

Then, finally, he thinks of what Professor Rowan said.

Then, finally, he thinks he understands it.

(They stop no fewer than five times on the way to Celestic Town so Gary can throw up. The taste of blood has begun to mingle with something salty, but Professor Rowan tactfully says nothing of it when he has to wipe his eyes clean as well as his mouth.)

*

For a long while, Gary has time to simply think about it, if only because his condition gets so bad he is confined to bedrest for the unforeseeable future. He eventually relents to Professor Rowan’s insistences and calls his grandfather and Tracey, whose faces are sorrowful but advice is exactly what he expects it to be: Just talk to him, Gary.

His grandfather informs him that Ash will soon being competing in the Sinnoh League. He already was in contact, asking to have some of his old Pokémon transferred to him. And this time, Gary knows—he has no choice, but he can wait a few more days. He can.

The flowers he throws up now are dry, brittle things, past their lifespan. The blood that coats them when he coughs them out changes their colour into something dull and grey, not at all bright or happy, like Ash is. It feels worse, somehow; as if he has waited so long out of some noble sense of self-sacrifice and all he’s done is kill them both.

He musters up the strength to call Ash shortly before his battle against that trainer with the Darkrai that the announcers are raving about on TV. He has to leave a message with Nurse Joy, but he tells himself he didn’t expect anything different. And then he just has to hope that Ash receives it, and will come.

Though it is difficult to get up and walk around, Gary does manage it once in a while, certain that exercise will probably help him more than hinder him even if it makes his breathing short and fast and painful. Lake Verity is not too terribly far, and he finds that the way the breeze rolls off the water is refreshing; it helps him breathe.

It’s a better day than he’s had in a while that he comes out to the lake to wait for him. He watched the match on TV the other day, and still finds himself amazed at the way Ash smiled at the end of it, like he hadn’t been so unfairly outmatched, like he was just happy to have gotten the experience of battling such a strong Pokémon, rather than lost in the semifinals of his fourth Pokémon League. After all this time, so many years—and failures—he is still smiling just like he was that day at the Silver Conference. The day Gary walked away from him, not knowing what it would cost.

He doesn’t hear the sound of footsteps behind him, because he is bent over coughing when Ash arrives. The bloodied petals fall into his cupped hands. When he glances back to see Ash, they both stop, eyes wide.

Gary curls his hands into a fist, obscuring the petals from view, while Ash takes in two deep, stuttering breaths, then quickens his pace to get to Gary.

“Gary!” He stands above him, and he’s sort of…hovering. Like he doesn’t know what to do. “It’s—it’s been a while, huh? Are you…?”

In spite of it all, Gary cracks a smile at that. He scoots over a bit, and uses his free hand to pat the grass beside him.

“I’m all right,” he says. “Saw your battles.”

Lowering himself down with a wary sideways glance, Ash asks, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Pretty good. I was impressed.”

Immediately, he relaxes. Smiles. “Well, thanks! I’m glad you think so. We trained real hard. It wasn’t easy!”

“Easy’s not in your vocabulary, Ashy.” Gary laughs a bit, then stops, straightening up, as the act of it sends pain lacing up his side.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s…it’s nothing.” He looks away, toward the water. “So, what’s next, then?”

Ash is quiet for a long moment. In the silence, Pikachu jumps down from his shoulder and inches closer to Gary. He doesn’t have the heart to push him away.

Finally, Ash sighs. “I don’t know yet. Guess I should be askin’ you that. I never woulda travelled here if not for you.”

Gary smiles, faintly. His eyes trace out the reflections of the sun against the lake’s tranquil surface. “I know,” he says. “Pretty cool that ya got to battle against Paul’s Electivire, too.”

Pikachu’s nose brushes against Gary’s fisted hand. Not expecting it, his fingers twitch as he pulls his hand away. The petals slips between them, settling down on the grass. Pikachu cautiously steps closer and sniffs at them, then sits back and looks at Gary with wide, sad eyes.

“Pika…”

“Something’s funny,” Ash declares. “Even Pikachu’s worried about you. Gary, what’s going on? You don’t look so good. Have you been eating? Sleeping?”

Gary pats Pikachu’s head. “You’re too nosy for your own good,” he mutters. “Just like your trainer, y��know that?”

“Pi?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs. “Ash, look, I… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? That’s all.”

“That’s not all.” Suddenly, Ash’s hands are wrapping around his wrists, pulling them toward him so face Gary’s whole body has no choice but to follow. His eyes find Ash’s and blink dumbly at him as he says, furiously, “You’re hiding something, just like you were before! What were you holding, anyway, and why are you— Why are you looking at me like that?!”

Gary opens his mouth to respond, but the words are lost as he begins to cough. And cough. And cough.

“Gary?”

He heaves until at least, the familiar sensation of flower petals tickles at the roof of his mouth. When it passes between his lips, it is whole, not wilted. A yellow zinnia, perfectly rounded, not a petal out of place.

Ash drops one of his hands to pick it up. The only indication of a problem is the streaks of blood, but he is apparently unfazed by that. His eyebrows are furrowed when he looks back up at Gary.

“Really…bad timing,” Gary manages between puffs of overexerted breaths. “It’s—”

“Hanahaki,” Ash says. “Tracey told us about it, once, a long time ago. I didn’t think I believed him.”

Gary stares at him for a moment. Ash looks back down at the flower.

“But I guess it must be real, then. Gary, I…I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Gary recoils. Ash’s head snaps back up, eyes widening. It is only their joined hands and Gary’s frail condition that prevents him from pulling away completely.

“Let me help you,” Ash says quickly. “I—I don’t know much about it, but I get the idea. Who is it? If you need to track ‘em down, then I can help! Or—or if you don’t know how to talk to them, then I—”

He cuts off when Pikachu comes around and jumps on his lap again. If he had the wherewithal to do so, Gary would have laughed at the look the little mouse levels his trainer with.

“What?” Ash bristles. “You think you know, Pikachu? You’re kidding me.”

“Pi-pi-chu!” Pikachu points at Gary, then at the flower. And then finally at Ash. “Pikapi!”

Gary has no idea what he’s saying, but clearly Ash does. He stares at Pikachu, dumbfounded, and then looks up at Gary again. He makes a clear effort to void his face of emotion.

“You can tell me,” he says, quietly. “I won’t judge you.”

“I…” Even still, even knowing the words—it’s so hard to just be honest. Gary’s not like Ash, not even close, and they both knows it.

But Ash feels it when his hand begins to tremble. He holds on tighter and leans a little closer and says, “Hey, it’s okay. You’ve definitely done scarier things than this before. Professor Oak was tellin’ me one time—something about an Aerodactyl?”

Gary lets out a huff of air, a sad imitation of a laugh. “Of course he never saves the best stories for me to tell, does he?”

Ash smiles a bit. “He’s just proud of ya, that’s all. But still—that’s way scarier than just tellin’ someone how you feel, right?”

It’s not. It’s really, really not.

“You asked me to come here because of this, right?”

Wordlessly, Gary nods.

“It reminds me of the day you gave me back that Poké Ball,” Ash says. “And I think maybe—you were kinda nervous then, too. But the Poké Ball helped me understand your feelings, so maybe…this flower…”

“I don’t know anything about it,” Gary rasps. “Except that—except that it’s colourful. Bright. Like the person it represents.”

“Someone bright and colourful. All right. Anything else?”

He swallows back an acidic taste. Clutches Ash’s hand more tightly.

“That person was the first bright thing I saw after the worst moments of my life, so—so I guess you could say they flowers are like that because this person…makes me happy.” He makes a face at that, pointedly not looking at Ash as he says it. “I don’t know what they really mean. I just know that—in all the time we spent apart, I don’t think I even really wanted to get rid of them, because they reminded me of you.”

All at once, the pain in his sides changes into something—different. More of an ache than a sharpness. A scar rather than a wound. His free hand comes up to touch around his throat, gingerly, just waiting for something to happen, but—nothing does.

He breathes in, deeply, and out, and looks at Ash.

And it’s the same look he normally reserves for battles. He saw it on the TV, watching the Lily of the Valley Conference just days ago. It saw it in Pallet Town, outside his grandfather’s lab. He saw it at the Silver Conference.

But there’s no battle here. It’s just them, and Pikachu, who’s looking…rather smug, so far as Gary can tell. And then he doesn’t have any more time to think about it, because Ash is pulling him forward into a bone-crushing hug. Pikachu yelps, ducking away just in time to avoid be squished, but Gary is not so lucky.

Then again, as he lets himself melt into it and his eyes begin to well with tears, he’s pretty sure there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

“You shoulda said something,” Ash mutters. “Y’know, I coulda been here way sooner than this. I wish I had been.”

Gary takes a moment to respond, only once he is sure his voice is going to cooperate. And then he says, “I didn’t want to hold you back.”

Ash pulls away, just enough so that he can look at Gary’s face. He frowns.

“You never held me back. All you ever did was push me forward.”

“This is different, though.”

“Nah, it’s not. Wherever either of us ends up, I know you’re gonna be in my corner. For a while…for a while, I wasn’t sure. But I’m sure now, and I’ll always do the same for you. C’mon, Gary. You’re my best friend. What ever made you think I couldn’t love you back?”

Gary’s breath hitches. With some effort, he manages to pull away from Ash, who just grins at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Gary sees Ash scoop up the flower, and then get up to his feet.

“How’re you feeling now?”

“It’s a little easier to breathe,” Gary admits. “But I think—it’ll take some time. It’s been like this for…a while.”

“A while,” Ash echoes. “Months?”

Gary cringes away from him. He casts his gaze desperately back out toward the lake. “Well…a little longer than that, yeah.”

“A little…” Ash steps closer and leans down in front of him, so he has no choice but to meet his eyes even if only briefly. “How long, Gary? C’mon, just tell me! Isn’t the hard part over?”

“I’m not telling you that. Shut up.”

“Please?”

“No. You’re so annoying. Let’s just go back to the professor’s lab.”

Ash pouts, clearly wanting to push the topic, but then his sympathy for Gary’s situation clearly wins out and he sighs, extending a hand down to him. “Okay, fine. Let’s go. Sure you can walk?”

Gary takes his hand, even as he glares up at him. “I’m sure.”

Even once they are both on their feet, Ash doesn’t let go of his hand. Gary doesn’t ask him to, although his face feels rather hot at the continued contact. It’s only once they start walking that he finally relaxes enough to realize, “I never said the word love.”

Ash blinks. “What?”

“You said you love me back. But I never said I love you.” Gary glances at him, then quickly averts his gaze again. He clears his throat, awkwardly. “So how’d you know?”

“You…didn’t? Huh… I dunno. I guess I just kinda always knew. I never really had to think about it.”

Gary doesn’t know what he was expecting, honestly. He just sighs and wraps his hand around Ash’s a little more tightly. In his peripherals, he sees Ash’s smile widen in response. Neither of them says anything. Eventually, there will be more Gary has to be honest about, but for now…he supposes Ash is right.

There’s no need to speak what both of them already know.

[kithj]

quick reading wrap-up cus i haven't posted any in a whileeee

talking about Odd Girl Out, Merciless Waters, and The Weight of Blood

i finished Odd Girl Out by Ann Bannon and am taking a break before i keep going onto I Am A Woman. i DID like this book, but it comes with heavy caveats... it is very frustrating to read at times because it was written & is set in the 50s. the misogyny in this book is crazyyyy, on an institutional level from the college the girls are attending as well as on a personal level, from every single man we meet (and some of the girls, too). i hated Charlie, i hated reading his POVs where he jumped through hoops to excuse his aggressive behavior towards Beth, and i hated the way their relationship was written. i don't really fault the author for this, again this is just very reflective of the time period, and i do want to give her some credit, because some of it is definitely intentional with the way all 3 of the main relationships parallel each other in the book (beth/charlie, beth/laura, emmy/bud) and i really really liked the ultimate subversions of the typical lesbian pulp tropes at the end. i can really see why these books were so popular and how they would have meant so much to young, closeted lesbians back then.

after that i finally picked up Merciless Waters by Rae Knowles & read it pretty quickly (it's a short read). i go back and forth on this one, it was a blast while i was actively reading it, but if i think too hard about it, there are a lot of like. i don't want to call them plot holes, but just little things that don't really makes sense once you put them under the microscope. i was also a little disappointed in the ending, it felt like a cop-out, and i wish that we had seen more of Lily, considering she's the driving force behind the narrative and the focus of Jaq's obsessive love. that being said Knowles' prose is lovely and it was fun for people who love awful sapphic women (me) i also have Rae Knowles and April Yates' anthology, Scissor Sisters, which i'm hoping to get to later....

then i read The Weight of Blood by Tiffany D. Jackson cus i was looking for something easy to read. unfortunately i did not like this one..... i'm going to link this review because it honestly says everything i was thinking and i was happy to see it since otherwise this book is very highly rated. it's a retelling of Carrie, which i've never read (i don't like stephen king lol) but i DO like the og movie. and this book is SO derivative, which... yeah, it's a retelling... but it really gave me nothing. it's a shame, because i do think if you were to do a Carrie retelling at this point, this would be the way to approach it. but this book is a swing and a miss. and i could not believe the setting was 2014... of course, there absolutely are racist towns like this even now in 2024, but the time period was really the wrong choice for me, especially because it felt like it was only done so she could give the characters cell phones and twitter, but then she never really used the modern setting to her advantage outside of that. i also hated how much time we spent in the POVs of Maddy's racist bullies. i hated Wendy, i hated every POV from her... she's this books Sue Snell, but honestly worse. i do think her POV added something to the narrative, so i don't think it should have been cut entirely, but it also took way too much time away from Maddy who ultimately had no presence at all in her own story.

Kendrick was honestly the most interesting character with the most compelling POV, due to his own experiences dealing with the racism from his "friends" as well as grappling with his complicity as the "token" Black friend. however, even with Kendrick being the star football player, it didn't make sense to me that he was considered the "most popular guy in school" when said school was SO racist. i get that their interest in him was ultimately just so they could ride his coattails, but there was just a lot of dissonance in this story between just how explicitly racist some of the characters were in some instances but then not in others... i know racism has no rhyme or reason, but this just felt like inconsistent writing rather than anything intentional from the author. i also did not enjoy his romance with Maddy, for the same reasons as the other reviewer, but i'm glad he dumped Wendy for it so i'll take it, i guess.... overall, interesting ideas, but horrible execution. i really wanted to like this one but.... there's also a point where the author chose to name-drop Stephen King, thus implying that he exists in this universe along with all his works (they reference Firestarter in the text) but at no point does anyone say "Hey, isn't this case a lot like Carrie?" and that really broke the immersion for me lmfao

[broke-art]

Monkey King's daughter (magic)

You set the spell book down. It didn't look too complicated. It was only a glamor spell. Just an illusion. You could do this.

With a deep breath you summoned your magic to your fingertips and concentrated on the apple atop the table about two feet away.

If the spell worked correctly it would look like a peach to anyone other than you. Not so hard. And harmless.

The magic spilled from your fingertips and swirled around the apple for a moment filling the room with a golden glow.

A small smile touched your lips. Then the magic turned to an angry orange and your eyes widened. Instantly, you dropped your focus but it was too late. With a massive boom your magic exploded outwards throwing you back.

You screamed as wood splinters flew at you and covered your face. In an instant a shadow loomed over you shielding you from the debris.

After a few seconds you slowly lowered your arms.

Monkey king frowned down at you. Annoyance etched across his features.

"Y/n-" he growled only to drop the tone when tears filled your eyes.

"I'm sorry." You whispered as frustrated tears slipped down your cheeks. "It was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be easy." Frustration gave way to disappointment. "Why can't I do anything right?" You whimpered curling in on yourself.

"Hey! You do plenty right." Monkey King soothed hugging you gently. "It was one little mishap, kiddo. That's nothing to-"

"One?!" You scoffed pushing away gently. "Dad, I've lit the house on fire  four times, had 8 explosions this week, and I nearly killed two monkeys." The tears burned much more now as the panic set in. "and the explosions just keep getting worse! Dad I'm dangerous." You cried feeling his tail curl around you protectively.

"Whoa now. That's unfair, chimp. You're not dangerous. I can handle a few explosions. And most of the monkeys are immortal anyway."

You rubbed the back of your hand over your eyes.

"Can't you teach me anything?" You begged hopefully looking up at Monkey King.

He recoiled some with a nervous smile.

"Oh come on kid don't look at me like that. I don't know magic."

You sniffled and hugged your knees. Maybe you could just forget about your magic and push it aside. But that felt like cutting off a piece of you. But you supposed if it protected your family, it would be ok.

"Maybe it's best if I just don't use magic."

Monkey King frowned.

"Chimp, no. You love magic. That's part of who you are."

You shook your head.

"It's too much of a risk."

Monkey King chuckled.

"Nonsense you'll be back at it within a month."

You shrugged.

As the weeks passed Monkey King began to notice y/n grew extremely quiet. Explosions ceased, and each time he entered her room he couldn't find any of her spell books that normally filled the shelves.

About three months passed before he gave up.

"Y/n we have to talk." He began when he found her reading a random book in her room.

Silently, Y/n placed down the book and offered him a smile.

"I think I know someone who can teach you." He grumbled.

With a small gasp y/n perked up excitedly.

"Really?!"

So she had been wilting. Too bad he didn't have any way to force this teacher to actually help them.

"Buuuuut I don't think he will agree." Monkey king confided. His heart felt as though it would shatter at the way she wilted.

"Well who is it? Maybe I can help!" She chirped.

Monkey King hesitated. Maybe bringing this up had been reckless. It was just, he hadn't seen her smile in so long. And the silence was so unlike her. He wanted his little chimp back. But now if he dashed her hopes, it would be even worse after he'd given her hope.

"Nah, don't worry, kiddo." He ruffled your hair making you giggle and push at his arm. "I'll figure it out."

That night, after y/n fell asleep, Monkey King slipped out of the hut. There was one place you could always count on finding his mimic wanna be a dark dojo hidden away in the city's depths.

Jumping on his cloud he pitched his weight forward. The movement shot him toward the city.

Meanwhile

Macaque flicked through the pages of the old worn book of shadow magic. He had memorized every page around a century ago. But he had nothing else to do at the moment. And he didn't feel much up to creating mischief. Absently he created different shadows  on the walls. Thinking of different stories he could regale his fans with in his shadow plays.

Just as he stood to stretch his ear twitched. Catching onto a whistling sound. Summoning his violet staff he took up a defensive position when Wukong kicked a hole in his wall.

A sardonic grin tugged at his lips.

"Well well well look who it is. How's it going, Wukong?" He mocked with a dry chuckle.

"I need a favor." Sun growled folding his arms.

"Ohoho a favor huh? And you think I'm gonna help you?! Classic Monkey King." He turned away.

"I'm not just asking." Monkey King stated firmly.

"So you're demanding? Aheh. Not a chance." Macaque summoned his shadow portal.

"No, I'm bargaining."

Macaque paused tilting his head a bit.

"Do my ears deceive me? Did you just say a bargain?!" Macaque chuckled looking over his shoulder.

Monkey King never bargained. He was desperate.

Oh he could use this.

"I'm listening." Macaque turned folding his arms and raising a brow with a smirk.

Monkey King felt his insides roil. This was a bad plan. A terrible plan. If he made this deal he'd have to deal with this arrogant jerk forever. That was the moment his mind flickered back to the past month.

He decided then that it was worth it. You were worth it.

"If you'll teach Y/n magic, properly, until she is content, I'll give you a peach of immortality."

Macaque's eyes widened and his mouth fell open slightly.

A peach of immortality?! Wukong had to be bluffing.

Macaque analyzed him carefully. But Monkey King looked serious as ever. Determination sparking in his golden eyes. So he wasn't bluffing.

"You're serious?!" Macaque laughed. "You really are an idiot."

Monkey King rolled his eyes.

"Yes or no, Macaque?"

Macaque paused.

That was it? No backhanded comment, no posturing, no lie about having other options?! Macaque almost couldn't believe his luck. Wukong was basically out of options. And more or less at his mercy.

That was the moment he truly considered the offer. A peach of immortality was tempting. He had tasted death before, suffice to say it hadn't been pleasant. He'd avoid it as much as possible. But immortality was forever. There was no going back after that first bite.

All he had to do was teach a kid some magic parlor tricks. And suddenly the ability to destroy Monkey King was a very real possibility.

"Alright." Macaque agreed with a grin.  "But I got a few rules of my own." What was a little torture between enemies? He'd make this as unbearable for the Monkey King as possible.

Monkey King's eyes narrowed but he didn't object.

"First you aren't allowed to sit in on lessons."

Wukong bristled and Macaque grinned knowing he must have struck a nerve.

"I can't have you distracting this Y/n, who ever she is." Macaque dismissed any argument that might slip from Monkey King with the simple statement. "She'll need to focus. Second, she has to do as I say. Or I can't teach her anything."

Macaque could have swore he saw murder alight in Monkey King's eyes.

"And last but not least," Macaque added with an evil little smile leaning forward, "I'm gonna need access to flower fruit mountain."

You stretched with a yawn as sunlight spilled into your room and birds began singing outside your window.

You dressed quickly and headed outside to find something to do while Monkey King would begin training M.k.

Only you never made it farther than a few steps outside the hut.

A black Monkey stood not four paces away with a malicious grin his arms folded across his chest.

"You must be Y/n. Funny, I don't recall you ever having a kid Monkey King." He scoffed shooting your father a look as Monkey King stepped past him.

"There's a lot you don't know." Your father fumed as you hid behind him.

"Dad." You whispered. "What is he doing here?!" You couldn't keep the panic from your tone as your eyes flicked to him then back to your father.

Monkey King sighed and pulled you aside.

"He's here to teach you magic, chimp."

You peered over your father's shoulder.

"But I thought you said-"

"He's dangerous. I know I know it doesn't make any sense." Monkey King finished for you. "But he knows his way around a spell. And if he so much as looks at you wrong I'll kill him." Monkey King said the last part loud enough for macaque to hear. Though from what you knew of him, he likely had heard every word regardless.

The black monkey scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Come on, I don't have all day ya know."

You looked at Monkey King then at Macaque.

Monkey King nodded so you walked over to Macaque albeit hesitantly.

"So, you're my new student." Macaque smiled in a way that made your stomach sink. "Why don't you show me what 'cha got?"

Lessons that day were particularly violent eruptions since you hadn't practiced in so long. But Macaque seemed to understand your struggles almost instantly.

He dropped the sarcastic smile and seriously began teaching you how to concentrate, what to focus on, what spells to use, and how to preform them.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months as you studied under Macaque. Each spell became slowly less violent. Until one day.

You placed an apple on the table top as Macaque instructed.

"Good, now step back and try that glamour spell again." Macaque urged stepping back a few paces as well.

You sucked in a breath and focused on the apple imagining it as an orange. The magic spilled from your fingers but you concentrated on the image in your mind's eye.

The apple seemed to morph then changed color taking on the appearance of an orange.

You gasped in excitement.

"I did it? I did it!" You cheered looking at Macaque.

He grinned.

"Good job, kiddo."

You raced over and hugged him tightly in excitement.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" You cheered before releasing him and rushing over to the apple. "I've gotta show, Monkey King!"

Macaque watched you dash out of the hut on your way to find your father with wide eyes. Y/n hadn't even noticed the way he'd gone rigid when she'd hugged him. Too caught up in her silly little victory.

A small smile tugged at his lips. Over the months he'd grown something of a soft spot for the kid. She was like M.k. pure hearted, kind, and sweet. He honestly couldn't bring himself to hurt her, even if it meant upsetting the world's worst father and mentor.

Meanwhile.

You raced to the hut spotting your father critiquing M.k.

"Dad!" You yelled.

Monkey King bristled and dashed towards you creating a sonic boom with his speed.

"What?! Did he hurt you?!" Your father panicked looking over you. "If he hurt you I swear-"

"Dad." You laughed cutting him off. "Look! I did it!" You cheered offering him the apple.

He stared at it a moment before smiling in confusion.

"Uhh that's great, chimp. You found an orange."

You laughed once again.

"No dad, look closer."

Monkey King rose an eyebrow at you then his eyes shone gold as he refocused his attention on the apple.

Eventually a slow grin spread over his lips.

"Hey! You're first glamour!" He cheered ruffling your hair. "Great job, Chimp."

You giggled excitedly.

A few weeks later:

You waited outside the dojo on a bench as you studied the most recent spell books Macaque had given you. This week was all about shadows and how to manipulate them.

He had introduced the topic with a shadow play then told you he wanted you to make your own.

You were thrilled. But this particular week Macaque had needed to grab something from his dojo. After begging Monkey King to let you come, he'd reluctantly agreed.

So, you swung your legs happily as you scanned the pages.

"What an interesting book." Someone mentioned from behind you.

You looked up to see a man in a finely tailored suit with a lopsided grin.

"Um...thanks." You responded awkwardly. Slowly, you closed the book and edged away.

"What's a beautiful young lady like you doing out on a park bench all alone?" He asked his tone polite but off kilter.

"Uhm just waiting for my uncle." You explained as the man circled the bench to stand Infront of you.

"Oh how delightful." The man's eyes shone a chilling blue. "We wouldn't want you to be left all alone now would we?"

Something inside of you screamed for you to run. So you glanced around looking for somewhere you could take off to.

"Actually-" you began but the Man grabbed your wrist.

"The lady bone demon would be delighted to keep you company. Oh and she'll be needing that book."

You gasped and attempted to rip your hand away spying Macaque stepping from the dojo as the man tugged you against his chest.

"MACAQUE!" you screamed as blue mist swirled around you.

A panicked and almost fearful look sparked to life on Macaque's features just before he lunged for you.

"Y/N!" He yelled.

But before he could reach you the world around you faded to black.

Macaque caught himself with a skid that ripped up the ground at his boots. And growled as he realized Y/n was now a prisoner of the worst demoness he knew. He couldn't hope to take her on without help.

Fear exploded in his gut as he looked in the direction of flower fruit mountain.

And Monkey King might just kill him first.

*Whew that's a doozy I think I'll leave on a cliffhanger til I finish requests. Don't worry I only have a few more. 😈. Anywho this was a combination of requests. From ARandom_Reader and  ikissedjo  so you have them to thank for the inspiration for this lovely arch. Let me know if you want a part two after I finish requests.*

[another-lost-mc]

1, 4 & 8 under relationships and personality for your demon ocs pls hehe (or just 1 if u don't wanna answer multiple questions 👻)

Oh these are great questions! I'll answer for all of them. <3

What's their relationship with the cast?

They're all potential platonic/romantic candidates for MC. 💙

Karasu: I actually detailed his relationships with the demon brothers here, and a more in-depth look at his relationship with Mammon can be found here. For the most part, he can get along with them easily enough.

Azra: Easily aggravated by Lucifer and avoids him. Doesn't really interact with most of the brothers except for when they're at the club. You could argue that he and Asmo are friends. Asmo spends so much time at The Fall that they see each other a lot and get along. It helps that they're both lust demons and interested in the Devildom fashion/beauty scene.

Zekhan: Very rarely interacts with the demon brothers except for Lucifer or Asmo. Sometimes he speaks to Lucifer if there is a special party or event being hosted at The Fall. He also sees Asmo frequently so talking to him isn't too much of a chore, even though he thinks they have nothing in common.

Metatron: Was intimidated by Lucifer but got along with the others when they lived in the Celestial Realm. He used to be close friends with Azra before he fell, and his feelings about him now are complicated. (After getting over his initial shock and fear of Satan, he'd probably get along with him since they're both such avid readers.)

What is a character trait that will immediately make them despise someone? On the flip side, how can you easily win their favor?

Karasu: He would despise someone that broke his trust. In a romantic relationship, this would probably mean cheating (emotionally or physically). You can earn his favour by being genuine, honest, and kind without pushing him outside his comfort zone.

Azra: He hates being bossed around or talked down to. It's not hard getting on his good side though: he appreciates honesty, humor and authenticity. He gets tired of demons who only want to know him for his money or his looks.

Zekhan: He would hate someone who is pushy or doesn't respect his boundaries, especially when it comes to his personal space. However, if you want to get on his good side, the best thing you can do is be patient and kind with him. He'll warm up to you faster than you realize, even if he doesn't show it right away.

Metatron: It would be hard to like or forgive someone that manipulates him or betrays him in some way. Someone wanting to be friends should show an interest in books/learning and being open-minded.

Are they easy to read or do they mask their intentions perfectly? Are they manipulative? A good liar maybe? What are their tells?

Karasu: He hides a lot of his thoughts and feelings behind a screen. He's very reactive in-person and it's harder to hide his feelings, especially ones that lean towards the romantic. He's not a great liar.

Azra: He's perfected a bland, charming mask that allows him to fit in with the other powerful and popular demons in the Devildom. He's a good liar and he can be manipulative when it suits him. His eyes and hands will give away the first signs of anger or frustration he feels.

Zekhan: Poker face for days with most people. He's confident and authoritative and it's hard to get a reaction out of him. He can be manipulative but he avoids outright lies if he can. It's rare that something stuns or upsets him into silence. He will disappear (you think) if he's ruffled - but really, he's just watching you from somewhere close by and trying to figure out how to solve you like you're a very stubborn puzzle.

Metatron: He wears his heart on his sleeve. He's an optimistic the-glass-is-half-full, sees the best in everyone type of angel. He wouldn't want to manipulate anyone, but he could lie convincingly if it was important enough. (He will be very regretful later.)

OBEY ME MC & OC ASK GAME

[enhabot]

𝗹𝘂𝘃𝗯𝗼𝘁. ─  28 [ yn and the chipmunk ]          𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕. 2.5k 𝒕𝒘. mentions of alcohol consumption. ──────────

“it fucking reeks in here.”

you crinkle your nose in disgust as you navigate through the drunken crowd of sweaty bodies with sunoo in tow. an overplayed edm remix of some popular song is being blasted, and you can feel your entire body vibrating from the noise. this marks your second attendance of a fraternity party within a span of less than two weeks — and you can confidently say that you are unhappy to be back. “where did heeseung leave his phone again?” you yell. sunoo looks puzzled and slightly disheveled. “what?” he screams back. “i can’t hear you.” you loudly sigh. this is going to be a long night.

you make an attempt to tune out the commotion in order to recall what led you to the events at hand. who do you have to blame for your misfortune, again? ah, yes. none other than the reigning champion of disaster, jake sim — and you can’t forget lee heeseung, too. i mean, who leaves a phone at a party? you curse under your breathe and make a silent promise to tear their dumb heads off after jake gets discharged.

for now, though, you have a mission. you lightly yank sunoo arm and search for a less populated area to regroup and strategize. he lets out a startled yelp, “where are we going?” you grind your teeth together. “somewhere quieter,” you respond quickly. you narrowly sidestep a face-first crash into what looks like a faded partygoer, and safely make it off the dance floor. the two of you make your way up the stairs, and saunter your way into an empty room. you silently pray that some frat brother won’t catch the two of you loitering and kick you out. “that was close.” you let out a sigh of relief, and so does sunoo. “so, what now?” he asks. “hee’s phone. how do we find it?”

you groan, “heeseung’s not replying.” you figure it’s probably because he needs to conserve some battery on jake’s near-dead phone. “should we ask somebody?” sunoo shrugs. the two of you stand and ponder your choices for a solid two minutes. you’re so frustrated with heeseung and jake, you don’t immediately realize that this is the first proper interaction that you’ve had with sunoo since you picked him up earlier that night. well, since he confessed, to be exact. you peer at him, and he catches you staring.

“what?”

“nothing!” you sound a little too defensive.

sunoo raises an eyebrow, and you sigh in defeat. there’s no use in lying to him. after all, he was, and hopefully still is, your best friend of over five years. sunoo can read you like a book, and you know that well. this is uncomfortable; you’ve never had to avidly conceal what was on your mind in front of him before. “yn?”

“it’s just… you know.” you sound completely robotic; almost as if someone had preprogrammed your dialogue. “we haven’t talked in awhile and i was wondering if you’re, like, doing okay and stuff.” you mentally facepalm yourself for making things even more awkward than they already are. “i’m okay…” sunoo sort of trails off. “how are you?”

you sheepishly shift from foot to foot, and stare directly at the ground like it’s the most interesting thing that you’ve seen in your entire life. “i’m okay, too. anything new with you?” you ask. “not really. it’s only been less than two weeks since we last spoke, yn,” he replies. yeah, but two weeks is the longest that we’ve gone without contact. you want to remind him, but you decide to keep your mouth clamped shut.

“so, how are things with you and jungwon?” sunoo suddenly questions. you don’t sense upset or bitterness laced in his tone; just genuine curiosity. “uhhhh, good?” it sounds more like a question than an answer. well, things are doing good. you just don’t really know how to talk about it with sunoo. “are you guys are dating, now?” sunoo asks. “no? yes? i don’t know. it’s complicated,” you sigh.

“what? did he do something? seriously, that dumbass. i ought to —“ your eyes dart upwards and you wave your hand in panic. “no, nothing like that!” you interrupt. “it’s because of me! we like each other, but i’m the one that he’s waiting on,” you make a clumsy attempt to clarify. once again, sunoo looks confused. “you?”

you nod. “it’s me. i’m the reason why we aren’t together.”

“why?”

you’re taken aback at sunoo’s level of directness. after all, you weren’t exactly expecting him to ask you so many questions after the silent car ride. you knew that sunoo wasn’t the type to beat around the bush, yet you couldn’t help but to be a little flustered. “i just needed time after everything that went down,” you respond truthfully. “don’t tell me… you’re talking about my confession, aren’t you?” sunoo interrogates. “what?” you gulp. “you aren’t dating jungwon because you’re still scared of hurting me, aren’t you?” he asserts.

you can’t find it in your heart to lie to sunoo, but you struggle to confirm his words nonetheless. “sunoo, i…” his expression falters into a sad smile. “you don’t have to answer that. i already know. i know you, yn,” he reassures. he’s right; sunoo knows you well. you peel you eyes away in an attempt to hide your expression. “i’m scared…” you start. “of losing you.”

sunoo exhales a long, deep sigh and you feel nervous. “first of all, you aren’t going to lose me, yn. you mean more to me than that. above everything, you’re my best friend. sure, i have feelings for you… but our friendship is more valuable to me than anything else — and, i’m sorry for not telling you this earlier.” you nod, slowly digesting his words. “secondly, you’re an idiot. why do you always do that, yn?”

“do what?” you ask.

sunoo looks a little frustrated. “put other people first all the time. when your group members don’t show up to your meetings and make up dumb excuses, you let them off the hook. when people cut you in line at the grocery store, you just let them take your place. seriously, if you keep doing that, people are going to walk all over you,” he scolds. you laugh gently, “i know that already. you and the others always warn me about it.” sunoo shakes his head, “no you don’t. if you did, you and jungwon would be together by now,” he argues. “this is different, sunoo. you’re my best friend and —“

“it’s not different, yn,” he insists. “just because i like you, doesn’t mean you have to force yourself to lose feelings for jungwon. it makes me want to rip my hair out. why do you keep making hard decisions all by yourself, yn? and no matter how many times we tell you it isn’t your fault, you continue to beat yourself up.” you choke back a sob, “i don’t know, sunoo. is there something wrong with me?” sunoo gently shakes his head no. “no, there’s nothing wrong with you, yn. i just wish that you’d be easier on yourself. you’re so selfless all the time and… and that’s a part of why i like you so much, yn.” sunoo looks away, embarrassed. “but still, it can’t be helped. i can’t cast a spell for you to like me, yn. that’s not how it works.”

you glance at sunoo, “i’m sorry. i… i was just scared that you were going to decide that being my friend was too much to handle, and i was about to do something really stupid. i thought i could handle this all on my own, sunoo — but it’s hard. i was so conflicted because i felt like i had to choose between you and jungwon.” the sentences finally flow out of your mouth naturally, and you find yourself crying for the second time that night. you feel like a tall child.

“yn…” sunoo hesitates as if he’s carefully choosing his next words. “i’m sorry, too. i was being really harsh, and… i made a lot of bad decisions, too,” he admits. “even though i don’t regret confessing to you, i should have known better then to just leave it at that. i had no idea that things would turn out the way that they did.” you firmly shake your head. “you didn’t wrong me in any way, sunoo,” you mumble through tears. “i’m just happy that you aren’t leaving my life.” sunoo smiles, “me too.”

“are we okay, now? or do you need more time? i can wait,” you sniffle. “no, that’s okay. i thought about it for a long time, and i figured that i’m not gonna let some dumb feelings ruin our friendship,” he replies. “they aren’t dumb, sunoo. thank you for liking me so earnestly,” you respond, and you pull him in for a long overdue hug. “i missed you, sunoo. we all did — jake, hee and i.”

“i missed you guys, too,” he replies warmly. a few moments pass by, and you pull away with a bright grin. “i should probably apologize to jungwon, though,” sunoo abruptly laments. “huh? oh… that,” you realize what he’s talking about. “right.”

“is he cursing me out right now?” sunoo worriedly asks. “i mean, i kind of get it. i grabbed his collar and i was about to swing. i don’t know what got into me that night. i’ve been too embarrassed to see him ever since,” he mutters. “no, nothing like that. the opposite, actually. he was the one who told me to go smooth things out with you. well, i was planning on doing it either way but i was nervous and needed a push,” you comment thoughtfully. “that’s good. still, i should probably talk to him. i never hated jungwon, or anything like that. i was just jealous.”

“jealous?” you question. “kind of. but anyways, that’s in the past! if the two of you become a couple, i can’t become a wedge in between you guys, anymore. i’m not an asshole,” sunoo sighs. your face reddens at his words. “couple?” you stammer. “we aren’t a couple…”

sunoo wiggles his eyebrows. “yeah, not yet,” he teases. “shut up,” you whine. “i’m so embarrassed. i sobbed my eyes out in front of him earlier, i don’t know how i’m going to face him.” sunoo looks amused at your despair and you have the violent urge to wipe that dumb smirk off his face. “woah, so the great yn is nothing more than a simp, after all?” he gently elbows you. “fuck off!” you let out an undignified groan. “now that’s sorted out, we should probably focus on looking for heeseung’s phone, huh?” sunoo remarks. “damn, i forgot all about that,” you seethe. “this is going to be such a pain in the ass.”

the corners of sunoo’s lips pull into a grimace, as his eyes dart around the room. “we should split up. the frat house is kind of big… i can ask beomgyu or soobin to lend a hand and ask everyone to look for heeseung’s phone,” he suggests. you lift your head up and nod, “that sounds like the best idea for now. i’ll scout upstairs and you do downstairs,” you add.

“you’re such an asshole, yn. downstairs is where all the people are!” sunoo whines. “you do downstairs, i’ll stay upstairs.”

“no way! i dibbed upstairs first and —“

ring, ring. you can distinctly hear a ringtone coming from the same direction as the en-suite bathroom. the two of you cautiously cross the room and follow the insistent chime. lo and behold, a familiar phone sits atop a granite counter, frantically buzzing and begging to be picked up.

“is that…” sunoo doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence before he hurriedly snatches the phone to answer it. he presses speakerphone and the two of you intently listen in.

“hello? hi, please don’t hang up!” none other than lee heeseung is desperately wailing on the other line. “my name is lee heeseung — and you have my phone! please don’t wipe it and sell it, i’m a broke college student! i cant afford another one,” he pleads. you fight the desire to cackle and hang up, “heeseung.”

“yes! that’s my name. anyways, it’s a really long story. i’m in the hospital right now because my dumb friend ate soap. he’s so stupid. listen, at this party, you’ll find this blonde-headed guy! he kind of looks like a smaller squirrel? like, a squirrel but imagine that it got stung in the face? what’s that animal called? it’s a little round-faced and — oh, right! a chipmunk. anyways, his name is sunoo! and you could give him my phone, or — “

“heeseung!” you’re growing a little sick of his antics. “shut up, and listen to me!” you hiss. “hey… that’s kind of rude, you know. you’re talking to a complete stranger, right now; show some compassion! moving on, there’s another person that you could give it to if you can’t find sunoo! their name is —“ heeseung just won’t stop talking, huh? “yn! their name is yn, and yn is talking on the phone with you right now!” you yell into the speaker. heeseung finally ceases, and you can practically hear the gears churning in his head. “yn? how are you on the phone, right now?” he asks dumbfounded. “because we found it, you asshat,” you reply, angrily. “some directions in finding your phone would have really helped, hee,” sunoo adds, equally as pissed.

“nice! thanks, guys!” heeseung replies cheerfully, disregarding your irritated tone of voice. you silently pull the phone away to restrain yourself from allowing a slew of unimaginable words from being said. on the bright side, heeseung did indirectly initiate the your make up with sunoo — granted that it was a dumb way in an even dumber place. nonetheless, it’s a relief that you found the phone this fast. given the size of the frat house and the amount of people currently inhabiting it, it could’ve taken well over two hours. “hee, are you still at the hospital?” you finally ask after taking a few seconds to calm yourself down. “yeah, jake’s getting discharged, in a bit. we just need to fill out some paperwork, before we go,” he replies.

“first,” you suck in a breath of air. “how is he?” you question. “is jake okay, now?” heeseung hums. “he’s fine. the doctors said that he just needs a day or two to recuperate and he’ll be back on his feet.” you let out a sigh of relief. “that’s good to hear. i swear, if he gets drunk and does something stupid like that again —“

“you’ll rip our heads off, i know. phone’s about to die, yn. tell me when you get to the hospital parking lot. thanks again, guys! you’re the best,” heeseung makes a lousy attempt at flattery before ending the call. sunoo looks at you with a tad bit of worry. “i know that you’re mad, yn, but you can’t be violent towards a patient,” he remarks. “i know,” you respond, with yet another sigh. “anyways, we should really get going.” you check the time on heeseung’s phone and it reads 3:00 AM. you cringe, thinking about your incoming 9:00AM lecture. “yeah… like right now. let’s get going,” you grumble, and the two of you leave the fraternity house.

on your way out, you reckon that jake and heeseung are so lucky that you’re feeling generous today.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆.    ever since the day you accidentally screwed over yang jungwon’s course selection during freshmen year, you were pretty sure the guy disliked (if not absolutely hated) you. after several failed, uncomfortable attempts to get jungwon to forgive you, you settled that it would be much easier if the feelings remained mutual. thus, you avoided him at all costs! you treated him as if he had something along the lines of a nasty case of the bubonic plague. surprisingly, it went pretty well… until you ended up seated next to yang jungwon in a cramped lecture hall. oh boy, did i mention that you also have a group project to do with him? ah yes, these next three weeks will be fun.

𝗮𝗻.             biology makes me sad af btw this is not proofread srry 4 the word vomit 😓

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁        @xoxojayd3n @cosmiclele @echelhoops @chimiesspeach @yjwooon @yangyanghq @lumixen @instahann @sleepy-paws @plshhhhhhh @ncityy04 @n1k1tty @wonionie @youreverydayzebra @reallysmolrenjun @strawberryyukhei @studioreader @clear-colour-hair @alo-ehas @hobistigma @notrosemary @sunysunoo @whoe-dis @jayparkfromenhypen @k1ttyl1x @mikaa7 @ivswonie @ghjasksdk @enhyseob @jungw8ns @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @jooreneeee @april1538 @creamkwan @tlnyjoong @yenart @shotasgf @uhhalexwashere @ilyaera @lyra8 @wonietree @shawkneecaps @raindropsandroses1107 @curryramyeon @rikibae @jaemsluvr @jakesasahi @papiibuprofen @milkycloudtyg @aernx [open] ────────── [ 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃. | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁. | 𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ] ───

[rolloollor]

Is it ok to ask a bit more of your loved ships in bio. I'd like to see what you say about Idoazu Jack/Leovil

Sure! I'm always down to ramble.

idoazu

This was my main ship before mallerollo popped up. Naturally, I have the most to say about them.

I started to love idoazu when I got to Azul's overblot. I assumed Jade and Floyd would fuck off when Azul was in trouble, but they stayed! I was like, "Oh my god, they love him..." or at least care about him. I was legitimately moved since I was sure they'd dip. I've read people comment on their relationship and that it's purely transactional. That the second Azul falters, the tweels will give him the boot or eat him alive or whatever. Certainly Azul seems to believe this. They say something similar to Jamil in book 4, but it's important to remember that characters can lie and they can lie to themselves. They had a chance to drop him with the overblot and they didn't. Actions speak louder than words, right, so I think it's more likely that they believe it's only transactional, but they do genuinely like each other.

Though this like doesn't mean that the tweels treat Azul all that nice... they fucked up his restaurant during book 6 for funsies. Jade is a huge weirdo and I bet he loves seeing Azul frustrated or pissed off. I love Jade so much... I'm not as big on Floyd, but he can be surprisingly normal when he wants to be. It is nice that Azul has been able to have events with both of his boyfriends and even one with Idia without the eels if you're into that.

I like how close they are and I like how they respect each other. They all know each other's strengths and they've been together for a while. To go on this go-on-land venture together I think is significant. The tweels were the first to 'support' Azul, even if it was mainly to have fun, and I'm sure Azul does feel a bit of fondness for them, even if he says it's all business. I also like how Azul is a bit afraid of them, but he knows them well enough to be able to make his schemes appealing to them. There's this ever-present atmosphere of danger. Both eels love to eat octopus, after all. They're predators and Azul has this balancing act he had to perform, but even if he slipped and they usurped his position, I think they'd keep him around anyway. Floyd uses Azul's name, after all, so he's on the same level as Jade.

I'm not that interested in tweelcest, though. I never got the appeal of twincest. They look the same... I like when there's some kind of contrast.

leovil

The main thing that jumps out at me is how well they know each other and how they respect the other. Leona picked Vil for his Tamashina event and Playful Land showed more of the way they understand each other. They know their weaknesses, too. Their relationship would be complicated and maybe volatile at times, but I think they could make it work if they wanted to. It's probably Leona who'd hold it back. I feel like Vil could encourage him to try harder, but it could easily cross into being really irritating for Leona. Maybe Leona could get Vil to chill out a little bit, who knows. The appeal for me, aside from the visual contrast, is that it's a relationship of equals.

jackvil is just really cute. They're both very driven, and they already jog together in the mornings... it could easily develop from there. There's something just so charming about this giga celebrity getting together with a random guy he knew briefly as a child. It's cute. I think Jack would be good for Vil, too, since he'd be extremely loyal and supportive. He'd also make a good househusband. I don't have as much like 'backing' for this one, it's simple and cute. Plus I'm sure Vil does have a soft spot for him. The story about them making snow stuff together was really charming.

Also I dabbled in rookvil for a while, but it's like... too easy? Like things are established already. The climax of the love story happened already, if you feel me? I also don't like Rook's home screen line from the Ghost Marriage event where he says he's fickle... It worries me. I'm not against the pair, it just doesn't intrigue me, I guess.

[georgieluz]

Hello I would LOVE to hear anything abt your BoB OCs if you're happy sharing them!

hello!! yes i'm more than happy to share them!! also sorry that i'm replying to this so late! i got sick like a day after i got this ask but i'm finally back and can talk about them a bit! i decided to attach some pre-war moodboards i made a while back of them as well, so i'll put everything under a read more in case it's too long

first up, we have: oliver hardwick

wealthy new yorker with your classic parental issues. likes to think of himself as fearlessly rebellious, especially regarding his sexuality and refusal to conform to the expectations of someone of his "class". however, his parents have connections spread wide across the city, which they use to dampen, and cover up, any of his attempts to shame their family. naturally, this frustrates him even more and he spends every second of his time trying to disappoint them. but they never let the mask slip, never let him win. it's cruel really. he knows they hate what he is, and they make sure he knows, but they never let on in public. they never make it obvious. they never let him win. he's been stuck in a perpetual loop of failure, both his intentional attempts and his inability to make his parents care, his entire life and it's made him resentful of control and irrationally short-tempered when anyone attempts to perceive him or claim to know him.

before the war, he was studying literature and latin at university, and most likely to be found in a nearby bar or the bed of an older man. when the war comes around, he doesn't want to give his parents the satisfaction of becoming an officer, knowing they would consider any rank or military achievement he gained a win in their war of conformity and respectability, and that they would continuously use it to shape the perception of who he is. so, instead, he chooses to enlist as a regular soldier. his parents have other ideas in mind though, and through their military connections, they ensure that he's placed in officer school, with no choice or input in the matter.

eventually he finds himself chosen as an intelligence officer, working under lewis nixon in easy company. having every decision about his position chosen for, and dictated to, him leaves oliver with a bitterness and anger about being controlled, leading to a huge disdain toward taking orders. emotionally unstable, provocative, and with absolutely no consideration for his own safety or life, nixon may have met his match for messiest officer in the company.

(he's basically my hot mess of an oc who i'm gonna hurt so bad)

next up, we have: tommy monet

also a new yorker! (EDIT: he's now from boston, sorry) from the other side of the tracks entirely. this boy is all hardshell exterior and repression and no one can hurt me if they can't get near me so i will build this wall so strong not a single person can break through. his childhood was complicated to say the least (if you'd like to hear more about that then i can talk more about that later since it's a bit long for an introduction post) and he blames himself for the state his family is in now. he has a little sister who he would kill for, she's the only person he trusts, but he also feels he has failed in his mission to protect her. he is remarkably good at making friends with the neighbourhood cats, which their owners despise, but his favourite is his own, his best friend, named badger.

he fell in love with books and poetry as a teenager, but refuses to admit it to anyone. not because he wants to act cool, but because he's scared that if he pursues that interest, or anything academic, he would fail. he refuses to look his insecurities in the eye and pushes them down, along with the trauma of his past, until they're nice and buried down deep. he didn't exactly fall in with the wrong crowd after high school, bc he was already there growing up as one of them. he and his friends are generally seen as troublemakers and nuisances, but outside of getting into fights and breaking into a few factories and warehouses, they don't actually do much wrong.

he ends up in easy company, and when he meets liebgott during training, they get along well enough, but when things start to get stressful, they start to rub each other up the wrong way. they're both scrappy and aren't afraid of a fight, and they both have anger inside of them. tommy's anger is toward himself, but he tells himself it's anger towards his father. even though they find themselves in each other's face sometimes, they recognise that anger in each other. it bonds them together like glue and they understand something unspeakable about the other. tommy's never had anyone who truly sees him before, someone who makes him feel like a real person, not just a passing breeze, because sometimes, he doesn't really believe he's anything more than an empty shell of a body. and slowly, just maybe, they start to open up to each other more.

(tommy is my repressed broken boy who i'm GONNA FIX I SWEAR I'M GONNA FIX HIM GUYS HONEST)

if you wanna know anything more about them feel free to ask, i'd love to talk about them more! maybe i'll do one of those oc ask games or something! i also have a few platonic band of brothers ocs (male, female and nonbinary) from my formula one au who i absolutely adore!! so if you'd like me to introduce them as well then i'd love to bc honestly they're like my besties at this point

[neerons]

kei is a complicated person but he is good, he is not possessive or toxic in a bad way what i like the most is that he lets the MC follow his career and accepts her as she is strong and independent and we don't see many MCs like that, i feel that some they get frustrated and I understand it at first it happened to me but then I understood we are not talking about a person with a difficult childhood we are talking about someone who suffered abuse in the most horrible way by people who seemed good and who had to take care of him that is not something that just by saying to you The master heals, it's a very long road, but if we compare it from the beginning until now, he has made a lot of progress, there will be relapses, as in his new story, the scar from the past will always be there, but he is no longer alone, and the truth is, I want to continue seeing how their relationship grows. and maybe a see a wedding and a family. I would like to know what do you think of Kei's relationship with the MC from the beginning until now? And about KEI as a character and his story?

Hello! First of all I'm so sorry for replying to you only now, I had been busy before but I hope you'll see this ❤

I completely agree with everything you said. The reason his story might be more frustrating to read for some people is because, like you said, he's more slow burn (he takes more time to develop) compared to other characters. Although my personal favorite is Kazuomi from the title, followed closely by Seiichi, I can say that Kei's story is easily the most beautiful route simply by the way it's written by the author. Him being slow burn makes sense since, like you already said, he deals with trauma.

The problem with slow burn stories is that people do pay to read, and LC stories are more expensive, so it's frustrating to pay a lot with basically little development each time. I have to say that I'm very happy with where his story is going so far. The MC is really getting more in touch with her intimate self too through this route.

I'd like to see a sort of "wedding" season too, whether or not it's a vow made between the two of them or an actual wedding in front of God, I don't really care. If they do have an actual wedding I wonder what the development leading to that would be.

As for your questions, I viewed Kei's relationship with MC in the beginning as a psychological battle between the two of them. They both tried to hide their real self while reading into the other's personality. In this route, we could see that Kei is very mysterious, observant, and very dangerous since he was able to read the MC like a book even though she's a top agent and Kazuomi, who is very observant as well, and Yuzuru, who's very smart and cautious, couldn't see through her immediatly in their own route. The MC has trouble reading Kei's emotions even now, but he's more open to her than he used to be.

In the beginning, I think the author tried to make sure to implement Kei's domination over her through this psychological battle. Then they grew closer but both of them really had a hard time figuring out their feelings for each other, which wasn't surprising to me. It always feels like Kei becomes a child again when it comes to understanding his own feelings. He doubts himself a lot and can't understand himself despite knowing many things about psychology. So I'm looking forward to see how he and MC start being sure of their own feelings for each other

As for what I think about Kei as a whole, he's great at dealing with others but not himself. He has a great development considering he went from not even wanting to live for himself, to being so passionate about a lover he became an MI6 agent, which means he was ready to die for her while training and going on missions just to impress her (he's already great as he is though). He now seems more attached to living and is not alone anymore, so I'm glad about that. He might need some time to adapt himself to situations he's not comfortable with still, but he already made a lot of efforts to enjoy things himself, and not just to make the MC happy. I really love that he genuinely wants to be "normal", meaning in this case that he just wants to leave his trauma behind and move forward. Speaking about trauma and past, I hope we'll see Kai Soejima soon though, I bet he's going to be tough to beat and that might bring more drama to the table. He's like... the final boss?

Thank you for the ask ❤

[mistress-of-crystals]

Unknown Waters Chapter 1

[Next]

Magecrage - Or Thaumaturay as it is sometimes referred to- is the act of recreation of mystics.

Mystics is the essence that comes from the root-A frustrated noise left the young woman’s mouth as she buried her face into her notebook.

‘Why does ‘magic’ in this world have to be so complicated?’ She thought to herself. The young woman removed her face from her notebook. ‘Even so, I need to continue on with this. Understanding this world will be beneficial to you and the Council when you return,’ She encouraged herself to continue on with her research.

The mage returned to the book on her lap to reread the paragraph that she had just wrote. Once she gathered all she could from that book she moved on to the next one. This continued for a few hours until she was disrupted by someone.

“Hey!” The person shouted from the end of the bookcase.

The sudden sound nearly caused the mage to drop the book that she had been reading. The mage put the book back on the shelf that she had taken it from. Holding onto her notebook the mage jumped off the ladder that she had been sitting on.

“The library is closed!” The man informed her. “This is unacceptable, you should know what time the library is open! What department are you from!? I need to inform your instructor so they can discipline you!” The man questioned her.

“None,” She smiled.

“What…?” He was stunned by her blatant confession.

“I’m not a member of the Clock Tower or the Association,” She told him.

The man stood there dumbfounded by the woman in front of him, grinning like an idiot. If she wasn’t a member of the Clock Tower or Mage’s Association how did she get past the Tower’s security? A fiendish smile across the blonde’s lips as watched the man trying to figure out how she got in.

“Well, it’s been nice chatting but I really need to go now,” She smiled at him.

It took the man a moment to process her words but it was already too late for him to act. The young woman was stepping back, swinging her arm forward as she did. As her arm was going forward she cast a spell in her closed hand that created a small clear crystal. Once her arm at a 45-angle, she release the crystal from the hand. The man’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw the small object.

“Illuminate!”

A light erupted from the crystal filling the space between the bookshelves. The man screamed as he covered his eyes from the blinding light. Taking that moment the young woman morphed into the shadows. Moving within the shadows she darted to a shadowy area quite away from the library but still in the Clock Tower, and waited. In the shadows she watched the mages racing to the library to investigate what had happened. 

“You do love causing trouble,” A voice told her.

“Now, now Death,” She playfully warned him. “This was the most ideal plan,” She told him.

“The ideal plan was to flash-banging the poor mage?” She heard him sarcastically say to her. “The actual ideal plan would have been just using me to retreat,” He scolded her.

“But then I would have shown my hand,” She told him. The mage sat down in the shadows, crossing her arms and legs. “This is a foreign world to us, Death. So we must keep all our tricks up our sleeve until we get a good grip on the situation,” She explained.

A sigh was her only reply from the spirit that inhabited the dark jewel around her neck. Hearing that the convention had ended, the mage looked up from the shadows to see that the cloak Tower was still in chaos so she summoned a book to read until it had quietened down and she could leave. Hours passed in the shadows before she could move out of the halls of the Clock Tower to an ally a few streets away. Where ‘Death’ melted of off her, revealing her brown-pinkish travelling cloak. Fixing the hood of her cloak making sure that it was covering her face before leaving the ally and mixing into the busy streets of Londinium.

[minimalist-language-learning]

Read what you love (and why the right level is still important)

Please note that I write about my own experiences and thoughts. I describe what works for me and what I enjoy. Some things work well for many people, but not everything works for everyone. If something else works better for you, that's fine! I just want to share my experiences.)

Some time ago, I read the following advice:

"Don't care about the right level, read what you love!"

It's funny, because this is what I did before I switched to my current way of reading and although I tried to read articles about topics I'm very interested in I was very frustrated because I needed to look up almost every word (which is no surprise since one of my favorite topics are history and science XD).

It was no fun at all and I didn't made any noticeable progress for months. Maybe it's because the books and topics I really love are much more difficult than the books other people love (certain mangas or light novels, for example).

Does the level matter or not?

This advice is not bad, but it really depends! Even if you love certain topics or series and if you are very motivated to read it in your target language, this is not a guarantee that you will really enjoy it. If it's too difficult to follow the story there's not much to enjoy. At least, this is what I experienced. 

In my case, choosing reading material that is around my level or not too far above was the best decision ever. I made so much more progress since. I don't follow a certain rule, like, "read material you understand to X%" or "read material where you understand X of 10 words".

I'm also really bad at guessing the level of difficulty in general. I'm not familiar with the JLPT levels. I can only describe how easy, normal or difficult it is for me at my current level. When I describe the level of difficulty it's very subjective.

Example:

This is how I describe easy, normal or difficult books:

Easy: 『ペンギン・ハイウェイ』 was the easiest novel I've read so far. I looked up a few words, I didn't understand every detail but I was able to read it comfortably. I understood most of it.

Normal: 『ぼく��の7日間戦争』 was normal. I didn't understand everything and some sentences and paragraphs were difficult, but overall I was able to follow the story well enough to enjoy it.

Difficult: The 『ハイキュー!! 』 novels are difficult at the moment. The story is not complicated but the author used a rich vocabulary to decribe even the simplest things. I'm used to not understanding every detail, but this writing style made it difficult for me to understand what is going on. I really love 『ハイキュー!! 』 and I will definitely come back to these novels, but I will expand my vocabulary by reading books that are easier to understand, before I try it again.

Tips:

I recommend to read the excerpt of a certain book (if available) and see for yourself if this book is at the right level for you.

I always try to read the first chapter or two to tell if I understand enough to enjoy the book. I follow my gut feeling, not strict rules. The right level is a level at where I can enjoy a book. So in that sense, level does matter in my opinion.

If your favorite books are too difficult at the moment, try to find books at your level. Easier books can be interesting, too. Maybe you'll find your next favorite book.

Be flexible

Let's say you want to read this one light novel series in Japanese, because you enjoyed the anime in your native language (means, you are sure that you will love the light novel, story-wise).

But when you only understand fragments (a few words or sentences here and there) so that it's very difficult to follow the story, it might not be so enjoyable as you thought. You won't get much out of the book at this stage. At least, this is how I feel. 

Instead of forcing yourself to read something you "should" enjoy but which is too difficult at the moment, I think it may be a good idea to try something else for now. If your favorite light novel or manga series is too difficult at this stage, don't hesitate to try something new and broaden your horizon — you may discover your next favorite book, who knows?

It's not a shame to admit that some books you are interested in are too difficult at the moment. If you are open minded and curious and also try books other than the popular manga and light novels you already know, you may discover even more books that are interesting.

I've read books which seemed not so interesting in the beginning, but in the end I was so glad that I've read them. Don't judge a book by it's cover!

The most important thing for me is to keep going. Books I barely understand only slow me down. That's why I rather try something new at the right level instead of insisting on that one cool series which is far above my current level. I learned so much by reading books that are around my level and I enjoy this process much more than before! 

When I choose a book, the content is not the only important factor. The better I understand a book the more I can enjoy the content. It is very motivating if you read a book in your target language and realize that you can follow the story without too much trouble. This can give a language learner a lot of confidence! There may be countless books you can't understand, yet, but it is a great feeling when you read something you can understand well (enough).

Mixing the level of difficulty

As I wrote above, reading books which are not too difficult are very important in my opinion. However, in order to improve I don't avoid difficult texts completely. I'm experimenting with reading books at different levels. Reading something difficult is hard but challenging yourself is beneficial:

Difficult texts are not scary anymore If you are mixing different levels of difficulty you'll get used to reading difficult texts. It's still difficult, of course, but you won't develop the habit of only reading easy texts and avoiding everything that is more difficult than what you are used to. You'll gain confidence with every challenge. In my experience, the first few chapters of a new book are usually the hardest. After you are used to the story and writing style it often gets easier. If you are used to difficult texts you won't give up on the first few pages.

A more realistic feeling for your real level Reading only things at exactly your level can lead to the impression that your language skills are at a higher level than they really are. If you read things at different levels of difficulty you'll get a more realistic feeling for your current level. You'll learn in which areas you need to improve. Are you lacking vocabulary? Or is grammar your weak point? If you know where you stand you can choose your language learning activities accordingly.

Keep learning something new Leaving your comfort zone regularly makes sure that your progress won't stagnate. At some point, some texts are so easy that you won't learn much from them. It's absolutely fine to read easy books, of course, but I think it's a good idea to mix them with a bit more difficult books so that you'll keep learning new things.

Tip:

My main focus is on easy/normal books, but I also regularly challenge myself by reading at least a few pages of a more difficult book. I'm mixing extensive and intensive reading, so to speak. This way I don't get overwhelmed by the difficult book, where I need to look up much more words to understand what's going on.

If there's an interesting but difficult book you can't wait to read, this strategy may be a good compromise.

[beck-nightengale]

Summer Reading/Writing/Arting Tag

Yo, I was tagged by @chennnington over here to do this thing and it does look like fun, so why not!

But I'm also going to be boring since idk who to tag, so anyone is free to fill this thing out if it hits your dashboard. ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ Go knock yourselves out.

1) Describe one creative WIP project you’re planning to work on over the summer.

Thanks to Enderal kicking my creative nuts into gear and being recently liberated from certain "game-master" obligations (long, long ass story that'd probably go over most Tumblr folks' heads, anyway), I finally started diving back into a sapphic-flavored dark fantasy book series that I'd been planning since like around 2016 or so. It was mostly born out of some frustrations with the lack of WLW in general, and while I have some WLW elements in my existing works, I wanted to write something that was more overtly WLW with a leading lady who was outgoing about her sexuality than my previous protagonists (who are either repressed as fuck or too dead to hold a relationship that would function) and wouldn't take her four dang novels to finally kiss a girl.

Anyway, Morane Soraya was created from a whole mess of complicated feelings about women in media. I describe her as a combination of Julie D'aubigny and Anne Lister, with a bit of Christina of Sweden (all of who were badass women in history. Look 'em up!). I wrote a lot about the basics of who she is/what she's all about here.

Morane is a good bean:

Book 1, Bloodtithes, will go into her venturing into a scarcely-visited icy continent to investigate a possible cure or effective treatment to the painful condition she had been forced to live with, which gives her the proficiency she has in Blood Magick (which isn't inherently evil in her world, but very often misunderstood because of its side effects). She's from a mercenary group who all share the same condition and propensity for Blood Magick, so they're interested in this so-called "cure" as well, but not many make it to this country and survive, so Morane is sent alone instead. Along the way, she meets a horned jackal-man named Darius ka Dir, and gets entangled in a plot with a strigoika named Viorica Avanas who has a whole buttload of inner demons of her own (side note: I once played Vio in Skyrim to mess around with Kaidan and they got into some... Situations).

A friend drew Darius and he has a single giant and glorious curl that he is very serious about.

I've also talked a lot about Jade for my Enderal stuff, who was already based on an existing character, and I've figured out how to work her into Morane's world. She won't factor in until Book 2, Cloverleaf, because she's essentially gonna tear down a wall and break freaking everything.

You know. Like she do.

It's still in the planning stages but I'm feeling pretty good about it.

2) Rec a book!

I just started reading Dreams of the Dying by Nicolas Lietzau, which I'm enjoying a lot, but haven't read enough yet to form a coherent recommendation on it. I just got the audiobook though so I'm looking forward to that!

Otherwise, House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski is one of my favorite novels of all time and was a major writing inspiration for me. It's creative in how it gets you to feel uneasy while you're reading the book itself, a huge mindfuck, and one of the few novels that actually made me feel a sense of dread while I was reading it.

If you'd like some seriously bonkers reading material, I'd suggest giving it a looksee.

3) Rec a fic! (outside your character tag)

Iiii don't actually read fanfiction that much, so I'm not sure if I can rec one!

On the flipside, feel free to rec me some Enderal fics (or your own, if you have any). I'll read the shit out of it.

4) Rec music!

I can't recommend Murder by Death to people enough. They're my all-time favorite band, one of the few I've ever made an effort to go see live when they were playing in my city (just before lockdown hit, no less), and deserve more love. I've been listening to them since I discovered them high school and their albums just keep getting better and better.

Also it's not hard for me to find some character-centric songs from them because the topics they write about is very versatile. I tend to think of Lost River for Jade's story, and Ditch Lilly and Rumbrave for Rey's.

5) Share one piece of advice!

Writing women! Because I guess this one needs telling as there are people who still find writing female characters daunting or somehow more difficult than it is to write men. Which, fair, I was the same way. Despite having mostly female protagonists in the novels I'd written, the dudes in my earlier stuff somehow ended up taking the spotlight and stealing most of the development. I really struggled to work through some of my own internalized misogyny and "there are no good female characters in media" mindset, and it took a lot of opening my mind up before it got easier. Now I predominately focus on writing women to be that change I want to see - this includes not killing certain ones off to enhance manpain like I used to, which I learned was called "fridging", lol.

My advice for writing them is to just write them as characters. It sounds simple and stupid, but I'm surprised how much people get wrapped up in the "she must be a strong girlboss" brainrot that they end up with a very flat, boring character that literally no one can relate to, so she still gets outshined by the dudes because the writer tried to overcompensate her badass womanliness without giving her actually compelling character traits.

I feel like one of the main reasons why I absolutely adored Ellen Ripley when I was a kid was because she was written to be a man in the first Alien movie, but they changed the character into a woman without changing the script and it just worked. I didn't know that when I was young, but finding that out just made me appreciate Ripley so much more, because the writers didn't treat her like a "strong female character" but as just a character. I think if writers approached this mindset more, we wouldn't have the "no good female characters in media issue" that doesn't need to be an issue in the first place.

These days I approach character-building by not restricting certain traits by gender, and finding a balance between strengths and weaknesses. Just shut off your critical analysis brain to create a "strong female character" and just write "strong character" instead.

I could word vomit more about my own ladies and how much I love them now than I used to but I feel like this has gone on long enough. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[hopefulstarfire]

Alright day 1 of my ship prompt drabbles here and ready for you guys!

Prompt 16: Poetry.

I kinda had a few different ideas but ultimately came to this one for Trouvailleshipping! Hope you guys enjoy!

Car keys dropped into the bowl on the hallway console, boots toed kicked off haphazardly at the designated mat by the door and his bag fell to the floor with a thud. "I'm home." Was the exhausted call made, followed by the shuffling of sock covered feet and soon, Iris saw Alister shuffling in, dressed in a warm sweater and jeans, hair mussed from his helmet and a certain level of exhaustion in his eyes.

She opened her arms just in time as he practically flopped on top of her, head buried against her chest as his arms slowly wove around her.

"Rough day?" She guessed, setting the book she was reading aside. There was a muffled noise of confirmation and she brushed her fingers through his hair. He relaxed, practically melting into her touch. "Work stuff?"

"I wish," Alister scoffed. "My job's a lot less of a pain."

"Valon being a gremlin?"

"Your brother."

She didn't even need to ask which brother. She already knew damned well which one. "What did Seto did this time?"

He pushed himself up enough to look at her, caging his arms on either side of her. "I went to go drop off some things with your mom after work, because she asked if I wouldn't mind and, of course I don't, I love her dearly," he explained, brows furrowed in frustration. "I get there. Her writing club she started up is there, hence why she asked if I could drop off some food she ordered. And so is your brother, because he was watching your sister or something, and they want to stop and talk. Your mom told them about my Dad's journalism and his articles and they were praising his work and we got to talking about what their writing challenge was for this month, which was poetry, and they asked if I was interested in joining. I was trying to say no--"

"--And he trapped you into doing it by egging you on." She sighed.

"Your brother was so much more tolerable when I was actively planning his downfall."

Her hand moved to his cheek, shaking her head. There was always the route of them going to her mom and telling her; Meredith understood it better than anyone how her son was. Or, there was always the funnier route she liked to take of writing a prescription to her brother to eat a dick.

But Alister Gayle was one of the most stubborn men she knew.

"You want to prove him wrong, don't you?"

"Well, no shit," he scoffed, before sighing. "You know. I'm...trying to push past...everything involving Kaiba and focus on my new life. Our life. I swear to you, Iris, I am--"

"But he's Seto." He had yet to mellow out himself fully. Kat had been good for him in that sense; she was working on it with him. Frankly, she thought they'd do more good if they just confessed their feelings already, but life was still currently too complicated for that at the moment. "Trust me, you don't have to justify it to me. I grew up with him, remember?"

Alister fell quiet for a moment, leaning into her touch a bit more and pressing a kiss against her palm. "...The funny thing is, disregarding that...it might actually be fun."

"Have you ever written poetry before?" Iris asked, curiously.

"No. I came up with my own stories to pass the time with my friends, sure, but..." he said, and there's a flash in his eyes she's all too familiar with. "But. Most of it was fantasy stuff. And I haven't really done any of it since I was a kid."

She hummed in thought and her free arm stretched out towards the coffee table, hand fumbling for the remote. "Well. We're both off tomorrow and we can stay up," she mused, flicking back from the video she was on and going to the search bar on YouTube. "There's bound to be plenty of videos we can watch to get you some tips in."

He cocked a brow at her before he snorted in laughter. "We're gonna sneak in a cram session so I can write one little poem?"

"No, we're gonna cram it all night so you can write a poem that'd make Emily Dickinson eat her own paper and you can give my brother the proverbial middle finger and make moms friends sing your praises."

The competitive streak of hers used to be so much more subdued. It wasn't until after she woke up from her soul being snatched out of her body that it came out.

He gazed at and smirked after a moment, hand going to the back of her head as he gave her a kiss. "Have I mentioned I love you?"

"Mm, a few times today, but it's nice to hear," she quipped. She settled back against the couch, stretching her arms out. "For the record, I love you too. Now let's get started."

°°°

Around 1 in the morning, Alister was pretty sure he'd seen enough tips and beginners videos to give him a solid starting point.

Iris had passed out probably a half hour, 45 minutes top before he decided he'd had his fill. He shut off the television, rising to his feet as easily as he could without waking her, before he lifted her slumbering form into his arms. She let out a small grunt as she was shifted, but didn't seem to wake, instead burying her face into his chest.

He carried her up the stairs of their old house, silent as a mouse. He deposited her on her side of the bed, pulling the covers up over her and smoothed her hair out of her face. The thought to turn in and join her crossed his mind, but he was still far too awake to even try at the moment. He had held off with little sleep before, he could stay up a little later and it would be fine.

Ideas were swirling in his mind and, frankly, he didn't think there was much of an off switch.

Alister scooted the chair at the desk out, booting up the laptop and dimming the light down to keep from bothering the sleeping woman, but still light enough to not completely fuck up his eyes.

Fingers gently padded against the laptop as he sat back in thought. There was a thousand things he could write about. Nature, random objects, civilization. Most poetry seemed to come from a place of vulnerability, though, or at least some of the best ones did. That...made it a little trickier.

There were things he never could share. The horrors he went through were not something he could put to pen and paper and try to make something tragically beautiful out of it. Opening up old wounds, opening up the party of him that longed for better, was not something he could just unleash on the group that barely knew him, even if he wanted to. And his memories of happier times failed him; he barely remembered his father and what he remembered of his mother was plagued by war. He only knew of who they once were from stories from the family; it was all he had.

How could he write a poem about people he didn't truly know?

He could write about his chosen family. Raphaels strength, Masons fatherly instincts, Valons sheer determination and willpower. He could write about the joy they brought. But, then again, could he ever live it down that he wrote poetry about Valon? The humiliation would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Soft snoring filled the air and the shift of the mattress let him know she was tossing in her sleep.

He smiled, silver eyes glancing back to where his fiance slept.

If there was anyone in this world he knew inside and out, even more than any other member of that family, it was her. She had truly become more than he ever would have prepared himself for. She had started as a target, a means to an end, a person to take out if he had to. Then she became his friend. His best friend. Then a girlfriend, and he argued it was for the mission, to get closer to his goal...and then they were nothing but heartbreak.

Yet she waited for him. Patient, understanding and resilient; when he came back, she stayed and promised to help him through it all, without expecting anything else in return other than getting questions answered. She gave him space, but, most importantly, she gave him a safe place. When things got bad, she was there, finding ways to help him where she could and tried her hardest to understand.

He loved her and she loved him, and finally, finally, he could let himself feel...well, feel anything other than just pain or numbness.

Turning back to the computer, his fingers stilled above the keys for a moment before his thoughts poured out onto the page.

"You didn't care that I was broken glass that could shred you open,

And you didn't curse my name when you had every right to.

Instead, you picked up the pieces and helped slowly put it back together.

I carried a life time of war,

And when you opened your arms for me,

I finally came home from a once neverending battlefield."

Maybe it was corny. No, okay, it was the sappiest thing he'd ever written and he wasn't sure how he even managed it. But, he read it, over and over again, mouthing it along before he sat back once more.

Maybe it should be corny.

He closed the laptop, giving a nod to himself. He could edit it later. But, for now, it would do.

The best poems came from the heart, after all.

And she was his.