#maybe next week? we'll see

[mawofthemagnetar]

I'll stop banging on about the vast majesty of the cosmos when the cosmos shrinks down to a convenient travel size.

[snarkspawn]

Oh look, it's that time of the year again :'D (how tf did that happen??) Anyway, hm. Mental health-wise this year was the worst in quite some time for me, so for some months I literally only had one, maybe two finished pieces to choose from. BUT on the plus side I'm fairly happy with most of the drawings I did finish, so that's good! I'll just focus on that, and on all the things I still want to improve on in the future. Here's to hoping 2025 will be less rough, and a little kinder, to all of us :)

On that note I wish all of you a wonderful end of the year and a great start into 2025! Thank you so, so much for coming with me on my art journey, for liking and reblogging, and for leaving nice comments and messages! You make it all worth it and I appreciate the hell out of you, whether you've been following me for ages or only just got here 💜 mwah!

[failyaoi]

Raiko ... Reiden .... yea we gotta think of a better shipname

honorary doodle from January that started this all:

[somegrumpynerd]

Oh my god. I wanna hit something THEY'RE SO FUCKING CUTE ARHHARGHHAGHA HHHGHYH TUHHHH

OH MY GOD HE'S SO PRECIOUS I MUST PET HIM HE'S SO STOOPID AND GOOFFYY AND ARGHHHHHH

FUCK. HIS BEADY LITTLE EYES FFGGFFFFG HE MUST BE PROTECTED AT ALL COST

Ahsukdbsbjkb I'm so glad you like them!! They're one of my favourites hehe :D

Ignore the fact that I almost forgot to draw them cause I got so caught up planning sprites for everybody else lol

Unfortunately you cannot pet Killer (yet) because he will bite, but you can hold Cross as much as you want (he still doesn't purr but he is having a good time I promise) (ignore the tears he's just not used to so much attention)

[catocappuccino]

Everyone making those edgy theories about THIS image

just for it to end up being a teaser for a silly goofy merchandise commercial video is one of the funniest things ever

Live laugh love dog N plush

[ryonello]

baby conduit :3

[theladyofshalott1989]

I'll be on and off for the next week or so as I'm going on vacation (woooo!).

My fellow Americans, if you haven't already cast an early voting ballot, please go vote!!! <3

And everyone, stay safe, lovelies. Also, if you miss me, play The Helicopter Game and think of me as you smash your helicopter into walls. Why? I dunno. But I'm rolling with it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

PEACE OUT HOMIES.

[a-s-levynn]

Tiny Token 3rd set

[ionozoned]

[endwersed]

I know you’re on break but can we get a nibble of poets? Pleaseeee? With Derek on top?

With Derek on top made me genuinely cackle out loud - so yes, absolutely you can 😄 Warning that the following snippet is a li'l spicy, and there is alcohol involved, so I've put it under a read more.

“C’mon,” Stiles says, almost a goddamn purr at this point. “I’ve missed you, Derek. I’ve missed you so much. Missed your hands and your mouth and your cock, oh, fuck, I’ve missed your cock.”

Derek does not open his eyes. He does not look capable. His face is all screwed up, his teeth grinding together so hard they may crack any second. He twists his hips pointedly away from Stiles, pointedly where Stiles cannot press the hard lengths of them together any longer, and his grip on Stiles’ middle grows tight enough so that Stiles cannot follow, cannot chase, even as he whines and squirms to try and do so.

“Jesus,” he hisses, head shaking jerkily. “Stiles, don’t –“

“Haven’t you missed me?” Stiles cuts over him. “My hands? My mouth? My ass? How good it feels to fuck me when I’m wet, so fucking wet, and all for you?”

A choked noise splutters up from Derek’s throat. His eyes spring open.

“Stiles,” he tries again, a third time, just as ineffective as the previous. “Stop it.”

“Nobody fucks me like you fucked me,” Stiles carries on heedless. “Nobody ever makes me feel as good as you did. Derek, please, fuck, none of them are you, I need you.”

“Stop it.” These words barely make it through the clench of Derek’s teeth. He stares at Stiles in naked disbelief. “You’re drunk.”

“I know I am,” Stiles says, still trying to struggle in Derek’s hold, Derek’s firm hands still holding him perfectly still. “I’m drunk, and I’m horny, and I want you, Derek, I want you so fucking much. Don’t you want me?”

Derek’s hips might be irritatingly out of his reach, but his face, oh his face, that is still so close. In a moment of genius, Stiles surges forwards, surges upwards, darting ahead to try and catch Derek’s mouth with his own, trying to recreate the kiss from months ago, from Christmas, but without any pesky family members watching on to clear their throat and split them apart.

It seems like Derek is set on being the fucking irritating one here, though. He pulls his face quickly away before Stiles manages to make contact. His hands are still on Stiles’ waist, though, and he takes that as a good sign. Or maybe Derek is just trying to make sure he doesn’t fall over. Stiles’ drunk mind decides he likes the former better and runs with that.

“You know I want you, Stiles,” Derek says, quiet, strained and aching. “You know I want – fuck, everything. But you… you need to stop. You’re drunk, and you don’t want this, I know you don’t, not really.”

Instantly, insanely and irrationally, Stiles is angry.

“Fuck you,” he spits, his hands yanking away from Derek’s hair to shove against his chest, feeble in their attempts to push him away. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.”

“Stiles,” Derek says, through gritted teeth, through exasperation. “Stop fucking struggling. Just calm down and let me get you to –“

“Fuck you,” Stiles snaps again. “You broke my fucking heart, and now you won’t even pity fuck me? Fuck you, Derek Hale, get the fuck off me, get off, let me go, let me go.”

“Stiles,” Derek tries again.

“Stiles?” his dad’s voice comes from the porch.

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: great, unique and creative worldbuilding in sci-fi

A note: most of the books on this list are ones I cherish very highly (some are on my all time favorites list!). A few had a lower overall rating for me personally but still stellar worldbuilding and are of what I'd consider good objective quality even if I subjectively didn’t super enjoy them.

For details on the books, continue under the readmore!

Other book rec posts:

Really cool fantasy worldbuilding

Mermaid books

Dark sapphic romances

Vampire books

Feed (Newsflesh series) by Mira Grant

Zombies and news bloggers and presidential elections, oh my! A look at the world post-post zombie apocalypse, when society has gotten back to its feet but the zombie virus is still very much active. Humanity as a whole has been forced to adapt to the ever-present threat. Largely political, character and worldbuilding focused. There is some zombie action, but it’s far from the central focus.

Shades of Grey (Shades of Grey series) by Jasper Fforde

Walking the very thin line of giving you just enough information to follow the plot and grasp the overall idea of the world, but not enough to create info dumps or hand you answers not yet earned, Shades of Grey presents a world in black and white, where your perception of color determines your place in society. Is it fantasy? Scifi? Post apocalypse? Who knows! I sure don’t! Occasionally it hands you a tidbit of information that seems like a remnant of our world and you feel like you're onto something, but then some pages later said tidbit is turned on its head and you're back to square one. It’s delightful.

This Alien Shore (Alien Shores series) by C.S. Friedman

Space opera in which humanity found a way to faster than light travel and began establishing colonies all over the galaxy, only to belatedly realize the method of FTL caused irreversible mutations and disabilities and leaving their nascent colonies to die. Much later, many of the colonies have survived and thrived, and one has found a new way of FTL travel, allowing an interconnected space society to grow. However, Earth is on the hunt for their method and is prepared to do anything to steal it. Aside from cool worldbuilding, This Alien Shore also features some interesting commentary on disability and accommodation. And there are extra-dimensional space dragons!

Ninefox Gambit (Machineries of Empire trilogy) by Yoon Ha Lee

Military space opera where belief and culture shape the laws of reality, causing all kinds of atrocities as empires do everything in their power to force as many people as possible to conform to their way of life to strengthen their technology and weapons. It’s also very queer, with gay, lesbian and trans major characters, albeit little to no romance.

Ancillary Justice (Imperial Radch series) by Ann Leckie

Another space opera, in which sentient spaceships can walk the ground in stolen human bodies, so called ancillaries. One of these ancillaries, the sole survivor after the complete destruction of her ship and crew, is one the hunt for revenge. This series also does very cool things with gender!

The Quantum Thief (Jean le Flambeur series) by Hannu Rajaniemi

Place this one in the category of 'accept that you're gonna be confused as hell and just let the world wash over you'. The singularity has come and gone and humans can now easily upload, download and copy themselves into new bodies, not all of them human and not always willingly. Consciousnesses and time has become something close to currency. Follows a murder mystery on Mars.

Stray (Touchstone trilogy) by Andrea K. Höst

Young Adult. Cassandra accidentally walks through a wormhole and ends up on another planet, where she tries to survive in the abandoned ruins of a long since gone civilization. When rescue finally arrives, she soon finds her troubles are far from over as she gets embroiled in a war between her rescuers and monstrous creatures from dreamlike other dimensions. Mixes scifi elements such as space travel, vr and nanomachinery with fantasy tropes such as psychic powers, monsters, and interdimensional portals.

The Peacekeeper (The Good Lands series) by B.L. Blanchard

Alternate history in which Europe never colonized the Americas. Follow Ojibwe detective Chibenashi as he travels from his small home village to a city of living skyscrapers to solve a murder. While I found the mystery somewhat lacking, the worldbuilding and look at a contemporary North America never touched by European colonization is absolutely aces.

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden

South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.

Leech by Hiron Ennes

I mean, this is probably scifi? Like Shades of Grey it hands you only just enough information to get by, and whether its historical fantasy, an alternate timeline, or futuristic post apocalypse is hard to determine. A sentient hive mind have taken over the entire medical profession to ensure the health of their host species. One of their doctors is sent off to an isolated location where they’re cut off from the rest of the hive mind, only to realize they’re faced with a rivaling parasitic entity.

Children of Time (Children of Time series) by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Millenia and generation spanning scifi. After the collapse of an empire, a planet once part of a project to uplift other species to sentience is left to develop on its own, resulting not in the intelligent monkeys once intended but in sentient giant spiders. Millenia later, what remains of humanity arrives looking for a new home.

Dreamsnake by Vonda N. McIntyre

A classic following a healer as she travels a post apocalyptic Earth with an alien dreamsnake to help people. When her snake dies, she must go on a journey to find a new one. The worldbuilding feels fairly vague, but not in an annoying way but in one that makes the world feel vast and mysterious and lived in. Just like in the real world you won’t get all the answers, but you do get the feeling of the world as a whole being much larger than the character and her quest.

The Outside (The Outside trilogy) by Ada Hoffman

AKA the book the put me in an existenial crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired scifi where reality is warped and artifical gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by post-human cybernetic 'angels' to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart.

The Three-Body Problem (The Three-Body Problem series) Cixin Liu

While I felt the characters could’ve been better developed, this is undeniably a well-written novel featuring an alien race and culture developed on a planet vastly different from ours. Firmly in the realm of hard scifi, this is a realistic, fascinating and slightly terrifying look at how first contact may look.

Space Opera by Catherynne M. Valente

Eurovision in space! If you lose, humanity is doomed! Good luck! The sentient species of the galaxy have chosen to face each other not in war but in a musical contest, and now humanity is invited to partake. The problem? If we lose, our species as a whole will be exterminated. While I found this book as a whole slightly gimmicky, it’s a fun and flashy experience with some wild and creative alien species.

Escaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus series) by Nicky Drayden

Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one.

The Stars are Legion by Kameron Hurley

More fucked up biological spaceships, this time all women edition! It’s weird, it's gross, there’s So Much Viscera, it has biotech but in the most horrific way imaginable. Had I to categorize it I would call it grimdark military sf. It’s an experience but not necessarily a pleasant one. Features a mass of slowly dying world-ships, and the conflicts arising between them as they struggle to survive. It’s also sapphic but not what I'd call romantic.

Isle of Broken Years by Jane Fletcher

Young spanish noblewoman Catalina thinks she’s done for when the ship she’s traveling on is attacked by pirates and she’s captured. Things gets worse when the entire crew is stranded on an inhospitable island where time works strangely, dangerous monsters terrorize the woods and something alien stops them from leaving. Strong Lost vibes. Lesbian romance. Admittedly quite indulgent but very fun and creative.

Vagabonds by Hao Jingfang

Slow and long and literary, Vagabonds presents a world a hundred years post a war of independence between Earth and Mars, after which two vastly different societies have grown. A close look at the impossibility of a utopia and how different circumstances allow for different cultures to grow, and how the two aren’t always compatible while neither is necessarily better or worse than the other.

Mortal Engines (Mortal Engines quartet) by Philip Reeve

Young Adult. On a barely survivable Earth humanity has taken to living on great wandering cities, hunting each other across the plains for resources. Tom lives in London, but when he intervenes to stop a murder, he falls off the city alongside a strange and hostile girl on the hunt for revenge. Aside from excellent worldbuilding this also features one of my most favorit female characters ever in Hester Shaw. If you’ve seen the movie, forget about it and read the book instead.

Too Like the Lightning (Terra Ignota series) by Ada Palmer

Centuries in the future, humanity has deliberatly engineered society to be as utopian as possible, politically, socially, sexually, religiously. Written in an enlightenment style and featuring questions of human nature and whether it’s possible to change it, and what price we're prepared to pay for peace, this book is simultaneously very heavy and very funny, and written in a very unique style. While still human, the society presented often feels starkly alien.

A Memory Called Empire (Teixcalaan duology) by Arkady Martine

Mahit, ambassador of a small station nation, arrives at the heart of the Teixcalaanli Empire, ready to battle for the continued independence of her people. In her head she carries part of the personality of her predecessor, there to guide her. A look at imperialism and the conflicting feelings of hate, fear and even admiration one can have towards empire. Also features a sapphic romance!

Gideon the Ninth (The Locked Tomb series) by Tamsyn Muir

I mean, you're on tumblr, you probably already know about this one. Trust me when I say it's exactly as good as people claim. There are indeed lesbian necromancers is space (quite a lot of them, actually), but also incredible worldbuilding that keeps growing with every new installment, interesting political commentary, morally complex characters with fucked up dynamics, and well-thought out plot that keeps you guessing until the last.

Railhead (Railhead trilogy) by Philip Reeve

Young Adult. Listen, Philip Reeve is so good at absolutely wild worldbuilding, I nearly included a third series of his on this list (hey go look up Larklight okay!). In a future where humanity travel between the stars using not spaceships but a portal-connected system of sentient trains, a young thief and street urchin is hired to steal something off of the Emperor's train.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon

More AI gods!

A Big Ship at the Edge of the Universe by Alex White

Magic in space!

The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang

Angels in space!

[holopossums]

little life update:

i had moved into my parents' house for a few months so i could find a job and get back on my feet. i got a new job in late July and have been working my butt off.

yesterday i finally moved back to my usual place i live at with my friends! i should now hopefully be okay financially, so long as nothing bad happens for a good long while and i can continue to have this job.

living away from my parents is really mentally healthy for me, so i'm glad to be outta there. things are definitely looking up.

now that i've settled a bit, hopefully in the coming days/weeks i can be back here a bit more and take care of all the things i meant to.

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

With the newest leaks the shanks twin theory is here again

Do you think it’s possible?

i mean, one of the things that makes me skeptical of celestial dragon shanks is how, exactly, anyone in-universe would know. it's not like they have dna testing or anything like that, and i kinda doubt shanks' hair color is as unique in-world as the manga coloring would have us believe.

(like, did roger go around telling tales about the treasure chest baby he found? enough that the story made its way back to the marines, and from them to the nobility? that seems… unwise, given where he found shanks. which wouldn't be ooc of roger, i'm just saying.)

shanks having an identical twin who wasn't raised by pirates would be a very tidy way of explaining things. (though tashigi and kuina's word-of-god unrelatedness means even the existence of a shanks lookalike might not mean he has a twin.) i'm not opposed to the idea in theory.

buuut now that i've seen the art, i don't know that i agree with the leaker's claim about this guy. like, yeah, there's a bit of a resemblance to shanks, i guess. and he's holding a sword with his left hand. but shanks' profile is simply not unique or distinctive enough for me to jump straight to "secret twin."

[somegrumpynerd]

Time for a new toy!

Seems like skateboard is the clear winner! (Doing it a little early this week since I didnt mean to leave it so late last time, hopefully there isn't suddenly hundreds of votes for something else after I post this lol) Tomorrow there will be a skateboard in the garden :D

So now it's time to decide for next week,

("Nothing" is an option that will still yield a cat, it's not just there like a trick lol)

[sabraeal]

Desert & Reward, Chapter 18

[Read on AO3]

A few months ago he would have dug in his heels. Would have really put these fancy boots to the test struggling against both Kiki and Sir’s attempts to strong arm him into this ballroom, and left a good bit of sole streaked along the stone for his troubles. Obi might not have the muscle Mister does, but but what he lacks in raw strength he makes up for with sheer cussedness. A hard thing for the Big Guy to handle, historically. Not so much for Lady Seiran.

But that was when he was just Master’s messenger, a failed assassin up-jumped to knighthood. When the only thing that kept him orbiting in the court’s highest circles was a royal decree; a flimsy bit of paper and an unbreakable chunk of crystal his only assurance between respectability and the gutter he’d been born into. And tonight—

Tonight he’s Miss’s husband. So he lets Miss Kiki lay her hand over his fine sleeve, and tries to forget that a few years ago, he would have jumped straight off this balcony. Folded himself as thin as foolscap to slip in among the shrubbery, biting his lip bloody to keep the giggles in when the guards tromped past. He’s half-tempted to try it still— he might be bigger now, better fed, but he could still give those rookies a run for their money when it came to a rousing game of cat-and-mouse— but he catches one glimpse of dress blacks through the balustrade, followed by another two or three and, well, it’s clear His Majesty already took cold feet into consideration, even after the papers were signed.

“You can’t possibly think he would let you slip through his fingers now,” Kiki murmurs, all smiles as they stride through the doors. There’s a few curious eyes that fall on them, and an even greater number that linger on the hand Sir’s got clamped to his shoulder, all friendly on the outside, but all steel hidden beneath the skin. “Not when he needs to give these people a show.”

Fair enough. The man’s not one to leave good behavior up to chance. Not his, at least. “Yeah, it’ll be a real production all right. How come no one told me there was going to be public speaking involved in this whole marriage thing?”

“Oh my,” she drawls, one corner of her mouth lifting. That’s practically a guffaw in Kiki-speak. “You didn’t think all this fêting came for free, did you?”

“Considering how I didn’t have a say in any of it” — hell, he barely consented to more than a signature on paper and a wife in name— “yeah, kinda.”

Kiki’s too dignified for a snort— at least in this dress— but the air huffs right out of her still, like this whole disaster is a real laugh riot. “You’ve never had a problem singing for your supper before. Most of the time, we can’t get you to shut up.”

“Well, sure, but that’s different.” On the business end of her ladyship’s arched brow, Obi’s tongue nearly trips over itself to blurt out, “I have to actually mean what I say this time.”

That brow hikes higher, if it’s even possible. Curves itself so much it nearly comes to a point— one Kiki would be happy to hold to his throat, if her glare had its druthers.

“I mean,” he wheedles, “that I have to be earnest.”

“Oh, come on now, Obi.” Sir chuckles, giving that lantern jaw of his a good workout. “I’m sure you’ve done it before.”

For Miss, sure. Master, at least once or twice. He’d even summoned up some liquid courage and managed it with Kiki and Sir.  But— “Not in front of people who would eat me alive.”

“There are times I’d like to eat you alive,” Kiki informs him, helpful as always. “If only to get you to stop talking.”

“Kiki.”

“I don’t see why you’re taking that chiding tone with me.” Now it’s the Big Guy under the weight of that oppressive brow, made all the more ominous by the lack of expression beneath it. “It’s true.”

“Well, yes,” Sir allows, red creeping up from his collar. “But you don’t have to say it.”

“I, for one, would be happy to be devoured by you, my lady.” Obi gives her his most charming smile, hand pressed to the place Miss tells him his heart would be— at least according to anatomical models, she would say, too thoughtful. Which only depict the most likely shapes and places of organs. Some people even have hearts on the right side of their chest, if you can believe it. “So long as it would keep me from having to make this toast.”

“You can’t be that hard pressed to say something nice.” Obi’s used to bearing up under Lady Kiki’s glares and scowls, to soldiering through her glowers and leers, but none of those are as devastating as the concern she turns on him now. “It’s Shirayuki, after all.”

It’d be harder to find fault with her, that’s what her stare implies, and that’s— that’s the problem. If they asked him to go up there and wax poetic about the blue of Master— Zen’s eyes, or the breadth of Mister’s shoulders, or the keenness of Kiki’s blade, he could raise enough praise to get them past the heaven’s gates. But to ask him to talk about Miss, to even touch the angles of what she means to him and think to come away unbloodied—

“Maybe…” Big Guy coughs, kindly keeping his eyes elsewhere as he suggests, “…you could just talk about how grateful you are.”

“What?” It’s Obi’s turn to lift a brow now, mouth ratcheting to its wryest angle. “For getting strong armed into a wedding?”

“I meant…” Sir grunts, an agitated flush working its way up from his collar. “For the opportunity to celebrate. Not everyone talks about their” — feelings, that’s what he’s trying so hard not to say— “the bride. Or groom! But their, er…gratitude for their guests—”

“That I didn’t invite.”

“—Or your host,” he adds, more than a bit strangled. “For honoring you. Even your wife for—��

“Putting up with you.” Kiki’s teeth glint like a knife’s edge between her lips. “She deserves the credit.”

“What about you, Mister?” Obi asks, ignoring her ladyship’s all-too knowing smirk. “You did one of these, didn’t you?”

“Well, er…” There’s red blooming right at the tips of his ears, almost painful to look at. “Not, ah…really, no.”

“What?” He stares at him, wide-eyed, before letting it drop the foot to fix on Kiki. “How come he gets out of it, but I don’t?”

“Precedence,” she says, all simple, like he should be able to figure out from there. “As host, it fell to my father to toast the assembled party—”

“I would have though you’d remember.” Sir’s got his brow all furrowed, like Obi should have written this all down in his diary or something. “You had, er, comments after he was done.”

“Notes,” Kiki offers with a twitch of her lips. “They were extensive.”

“Sir.” Obi pressed a scandalized hand to his chest. “Do you think I’d do you the disservice— no, dishonor, even— of being sober enough at your wedding to remember it?”

“Obi…”

Kiki raises a hand, laying it against Sir’s arm. “No, he has a point.”

Mister stares down at her. “Really?”

“But if the host’s suppose to be the one doing all the toasting, how come it’s my head on the block tonight?” Obi gives the silk swags and effusive floral arrangements a pointed glance. “I’m certainly not the one footing this bill.”

There it is, another twitch of her ladyship’s mouth. Oh, what a laugh riot she’s having tonight. “Members of the royal family are exempt from the rule.”

“What?” He doesn’t so much speak as squawk, drawing every noble eye within shouting distance. Lower, he adds, “But they’re the ones raised to talk in front of people.”

“Yes, but— what is it you’re so fond of saying to Zen?” Her teeth flash again, and he’s half convinced he can feel the points pricking at his throat. “They suffer us to live at their leisure.”

“That is definitely not what I say.” Though he’s thought it often enough. “It’s ‘I live at your pleasure.’”

It’s awful how elegant all that breeding can make a shrug. “Same difference.”

“If Shirayuki’s father were here, it would be his job to make the toast,” Sir explains, more than a little harried. Marriage might have given him a fancy title, but politics still make the man break out in a cold sweat. “But since that’s not…er…possible, it’s yours.”

“Didn’t the Marquis stand in for him out there?” Begrudgingly, on both sides, but still legally binding. “A proxy, or whatever? Shouldn’t he be the one putting together some flowery speech about duty and lying back and thinking of Clarines—”

Kiki snorts. “Do you really want Haruka lecturing the court on your worthiness as a husband?”

“All right,” he relents, steps dragging the closer they come to the banquet hall. “Good point.”

*

It’s not that Obi expects Kiki and Sir to hold his hand through the rest of the reception— at some point they’ll expect him to play lord to Miss’s lady, after all, and he assumes that will involve some ritual   hand fondling and meaningful eye contact. Much as he’d like someone to feed him his lines in this little skit, three’s a crowd, and four makes for the sort of gossip it’d take more than a marquis’s glare to clean.

It’s just— he thought they might at least see him over the threshold.

Instead, their little party hits a halt right when parquet changes its pattern, the vise grip at his shoulder easing just as Kiki’s talons retract from his sleeve, leaving him to stand there, dumb, as Miss settles in his sights. Her dress is less impressive behind a table, but the gold still shimmers as she sighs, her own eyes searching the room until she finds—

Ah, him. It’s him she’s looking for. At least, that’s what her smile says when she does, so bright and pleased he has half a mind to run right back out this door and—

And only one breath deep in that idea, the Lord and Lady Seiran slap his back hard enough to stumble him across the finish line.

“Good luck,” Sir murmurs, stepping out from his side.

Kiki slips around him, taking her husband’s arm. “You’ll need it.”

Hah. With friends like these, who needs enemies? Still, he’ll give it to them— getting over the threshold makes it easier to stroll it, even with the Marquis glaring a hole through his back. Obi’s got half a mind to saunter over there and ask about payment for a job well done— maybe it took him a couple years, but their red haired guest wouldn’t be marrying any princes anytime soon.

But it’s Miss’s eyes that draw him back, that keep his feet angled along the straight and narrow. A lady’s supposed to maintain her composure, to play coy when the object of her attention draws near, never letting a soul know her true desires— but Miss squirms with his every step, so giddy she might burst at the seams before he get to her, and it’s—

It’s infectious. Obi’s not one for butterflies in his stomach— and for all that he may joke, he’s not the kind of man with gentle flutterings of the heart either— but he’s buoyant when he bounds toward her, lighter on his feet than he’s ever been. Unsinkable, that’s how he feels as he takes his seat beside her, smirk outstretched to a smile.

“Miss.” He flips his hand on his lap palm-up; an invitation, if she cares to take it.

“Obi.” A corner of her mouth curls, mischief bright in her eyes. “I don’t think you can call me that anymore.”

My name. Even now he can remember color of her eyes, so dark he thought he might get lost in them. I’d like you to say it. Just one more time.

He can taste it on his tongue, feel the shape of it filling his mouth, and ah, if they asked him to do that stupid toast right now, he’d sing so many of her praises he’d make minstrels wish they had half as must poetry in them. “My lady.”

A laugh huffs out of her, sweeter than any wine His Majesty could serve them. “That’s not what I meant.”

He’s tempted to tease, to try and draw another please from her before he lets her have her way, but the ornate chairs beside their own sober him better than a judge. “We should talk.”

The shine disappears from her eyes, smile dimming to the realm of mere mortals. “Of course. We haven’t had the chance since…”

Say it. Obi, please…

She flushes, right from her tasteful décolletage to her hairline. It’s terrible how much he’d like to feel its heat against his lips. “You probably have a lot you’d like to ask.”

He hadn’t— just this toast business, and only then to concoct a speech they could both live through, with minimal mortification— but now that she’s mentioned he should—

“Excuse me.” A hand claps him on the shoulder, familiar in its weight— and how hard it grips him, like a mother cat biting its kitten’s scruff. “I think you’re in my seat.”

He blinks, adding up that soft, pale skin and the calluses across the palm at the same time Shirayuki gasps, “Oh, Zen!”

Her hand doesn’t slip from his, but Obi does from hers, turning to grin up at this lost prince. “Well, hello there, Highness. You take a wrong turn at the punch bowl?”

“I’m afraid not.” His smile is strained at the corners, like hide stretched across a rack. “This is my seat, and yours is to my sister’s other side.”

Obi stares down the table, stymied. “That’s three seats away.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t seem it when he shrugs, adding, “Precedence. You understand, don’t you?”

Miss frowns, a little furrow digging in between her brows. “But—?”

“Of course, Master.” It’s with numb legs that Obi gets to his feet, smiled stretched thin. “That’s the one thing you can always count on me for— I know my place.”

*

Obi might have been in the practice of dodging Wirant’s late night soirées, begging off invitations with reasons that ranged from the mundane— already scheduled to be on shift that night, and he’d walk the length of the wall between Lyrias and Wirant twice over before it was done— to the absurd— another greenhouse apprentice had managed to mix up the two different shigure, and Yuzuri had requested all hands to rescue the plants in the lower beds— but he’d gone to enough to know that the worst part of the night wasn’t all the ambitious mamas, looking for a likely knight to foist their foolish daughters on. Nor was it the dancing, though the ceaseless circles bored him— and Miss’s attempts at copying them usually resulted in a new set of boots for him— or the conversation, which even Miss called tedious, and he called mind-numbing.

Oh no, the worst part would be waiting for the titles to stop talking and eat. Those kitchens would be filled with some of the best chefs in the country making their most delicious dishes, and still theses lords and ladies would let it grow cold as they milled about the dinning room, more eager to fill their bellies with gossip than food.

But tonight, Obi hardly notices the foot-dragging; no, his attention is bent down the table, watching as Master leans into Miss, whispering in her all-too eager ear. Must be funny, whatever he says; Miss lifts her hand, hiding her giggles behind it.

Three seats away. Obi snorts. Even marrying her kept her closer to Zen.

A hand folds over his, gently urging his palm flat. “You’re going to tear the linens.”

It’s not in him to startle, but he does glance up, right into Her Majesty awaiting smile. “Sorry.”

“Don’t think of it.” Her eyes slip from his to drift over the feast hall, never lingering more than a moment on a face before floating to the next. “This will all be over soon.”

“Soon?” It’s three years by his count. Too long and too short, in turns.

“Of course.” One elegant hand lifts, gesturing toward the tables. “Soon, our guests will be seated, toasted and fed, and once our stomachs have settled, you will open the floor with your lady wife. Not so long at all, if you are to think of it like that.”

Obi blinks, running the numbers, but still— he’s got no idea what Her Majesty’s on about. “Not so long until what?”

He’s getting sloppy, letting a mistake like that leave his mouth. It’s barely tripped off his tongue before she’s fixed him with something so like her husband’s smirk it makes his skin itch. “Until we send you away, of course.”

“Send us away?” If only he did remember more of Sir’s wedding, he might know why his mouth’s gone all dry. “Where?”

Her Majesty is too refined for glares and sarcasm, but the looks she sends him is rather flat. “To your rooms. Where you will retired for the night.” A corner of her mouth curls, and when her mouth does part, her smile is all teeth. “It wouldn’t do for the happy couple to dance all night. Not when you both have much more pressing duty to attend.”

It’s a good thing they haven’t started the first course, since Obi does a fine enough job choking on his own spit. “Duties—?”

Silver chimes against crystal, and the steady din of conversation in the hall comes to an utter standstill. Oh, Zen’s accused his tongue of being honeyed and silvered and honed to an edge, but the second he looks out on this crowd, it sits dull and leaden in his mouth. Obi’s palms prickle with perspiration and he presses them to the table, knowing there’s no more time to complain, no more time to bargain, he just has to stand up and—

And sit back down again, since it’s Lata who’s on his feet now, glass in hand. Lata who is glaring down the table at where another man stands, knife still poised beside the glass, glowering back.

“Oh my,” Her Majesty sighs, sounding more amused than taken aback. “Marquis Haruka and Lata Forzeno. The majordomo must be falling to pieces.”

It’s more of that precedence again, that same jostling of elbows between a well-titled lord and an heir apparent to a better one that had them both squeezing their shoulders down the aisle. Obi can’t say he’s the biggest fan, but he’ll give it this: watching these two duke it out over who has the right to say the nicest stuff about him is the best entertainment he’s had in weeks. Better than him trying to choke through it on his own, at least.

But there’s one man here who trumps both of them in position and prestige, and it’s him who gets to his feet, glass upraised.

“My lords, if you would allow me,” Zen says, each word enunciated with such crystal clarity it brokers no protest. “I would like to say a few words.”

There’s little and less that either of them can do in the face a prince, and it’s with great reluctance— from the Marquis— and begrudging respect— from Lata— that they both lower to their seats cede the floor to him.

“First, I would like to thank all of you for coming to see my good friends wed.” Zen casts him a long look down the table before turning back to his audience. “I have known both bride and groom for a long while, and I must say, many of us never thought this day would come.”

Because it was never supposed to, that’s what His Highness won’t say, though the strain of his smile does well enough. Because it was supposed to be me here.

“If I had been told only a few years ago that I would be seeing them married”—Master shakes his head, and the court laughs with him— “Suffice to say, they could not have been less suited for each other. But there’s few hearts Shirayuki can’t turn, and even fewer troubles Obi can’t talk his way out of, and somehow, they have both become some of my closest companions. My most loyal retainers.”

Master peers down at Miss, and Miss looks up at him, and for a moment, Obi sees how it should have been. The two of them together, husband and wife, hands tangled together beneath the table as Zen stood to speak. Oh, how Miss’s eyes would shine as his love of her was finally put on display, put into words so pretty there’s be songs about it, played in every tavern from here to Lyrias. The both of them side-by-side, taking the first step into their future together, always facing forward—

And him, somewhere near the back of the room, clad in his dress blacks, just happy he pulled the right shift. Because that’s what mutts like him deserve: a chance to guard the door.

“After their years together at Lyrias, I’m certain of two things. First, that together, there is nothing they cannot accomplish. And second” — Zen fixes him with a pointed look— “that Obi knows how to do his duty.”

There’s a smattering of applause as he takes his drink— one that continues longer than it might, were it anyone else who spoke. But a prince deserves his due, and they’re still clapping even and Obi takes his own mouthful of drink, barely tasting more than bubbles as he swallows it down.

And it’s in that moment that Miss stands, her own untouched glass clenched in her hand. That she looks down the table and fixes him with a look that shines.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she says, jaw set like she doesn’t care either way. “I have something I would like to say too.”

[f-ngrl]

i made a chinese hiphop playlist btw, with the music i found after searching for a bit. spotify link if anyone's interested.

i like the sounds of all the songs, esp the beats :D

most songs are in dialects and not standard mandarin so they won't help me study but whatever

a chinese speaker i know told me that chinese hiphop is often in dialects bc hiphop is rebellious and the government wants dialects to go away and this is SO cool. i wish there was a khh rapper who rapped in busan dialect :D :D where i'm from nobody even sings in our dialect bc it's so hated by everyone who thinks they're educated (incl ppl whose 1st language it is)

another chinese speaking friend said they couldn't understand a word in any of the songs and the tones are missing when you rap so it doesn't make much sense

i asked chatgpt to give me standard mandarin rap songs to study but it couldn't

i asked chatgpt to give me any chinese hiphop/trap songs and the same ones kept coming out, most not available where i am. (i also asked for khh playlists with specific details as a test and it failed miserably :()