#not sure which book i should do next cause all the ones except like two lol on my current to read shelf ive already started...

[evandore]

ok cant really do any more until the trunk is clear to use so now im just gonna go back to my projects i was supposed to be doing all day lol...

[strikethematch18]

Of Sleep, Humanity, and Tainted Sorrow

Instead Of Sleep Universe (IOSU)

Dazai x F! Reader, Dazai x Chuuya, Dazai x F! Reader x Chuuya

Word Count: 2,696

This is an offshoot of my Bungou Stray Dogs oneshot Instead of sleep, I like to call this the Instead of Sleep Universe. While this could probably be read as a standalone, I would not recommend it. I’ll make sure to link the original. Instead of Sleep

To recap: Reader is a member of the ADA with an ability called Instead of Sleep which allows her hot project her current exhaustion onto someone else and enter their dreamscape, or subconscious. Her ability only works if she is tired beforehand and suffers from extreme insomnia because of this. “Instead of Sleep” ability is loosely based on the Ao3 tag “I wrote this instead of sleeping”

The original ship was just Dazai x Reader, but I’m a greedy indulgent little shit with a love for why choose books so this installment is Dazai and Chuuya with Reader.

This has not been proofed or edited. I am also considering writing a second part.

m.list

The relationship started with just you and Dazai, you thought it was monogamous, you thought it was just the two of you, faithful to each other. So, when you found out you were "the other woman" you were actually heartbroken beyond belief. Not only were you unable to sleep because of your ability, but you were unable to eat, you took up cases left and right and going home to change and stare at your ceiling most nights; sometimes your coworkers would come into the office the next morning to find you in the same position you were in when they left, at your desk doing your work but also nearly everyone else's too.

Every member of the agency tried in their own way to get you to settle, relax, eat at least a little something, or take a small nap. Well, all except for Dazai, he had tried in the beginning but your kept your distance as much as possible. Ranpo would leave snacks or force them into your hand. Yosano would drag you to the infirmary after a laborious case under the guise of a checkup but would make you lay there for a minimum of 30 minutes if you didn't manage to fall asleep for at least some rest. Junichiro and Kenji both trying to brighten your mood with jokes or tales from home. Kyouka would place the stuffed bunny she kept on her desk in your lap if she noticed you were fiddling with your hands more than usual and seemed anxious. Atsushi even guided you to an open section of the office a few times where he arranged the futon kept in the office for just in case scenarios, would force you down, and would turn into Byakko for you to contently sigh and curl into the tiger and at least run your fingers through the fur and let the tension slip from your shoulders and occasionally your eyes droop until you'd fall into a small slumber, that was about as much sleep as you would get. The president on more than one occasion would try to send you home and to not come back until you rested, but you both knew it was fruitless cause.

This carried on until eventually you had passed out from the lack of care your body was receiving on top of falling sick and found yourself in the hospital for a week and a half. When you woke up early in your stay there was Dazai in a chair pulled up next to your bed with his head in his hands and a certain redhead mafia executive leaning in the doorway to your room.

Come to find out, Dazai was bisexual and was interested in a polyamorous relationship and was working up the nerve to tell you about it and his relationship with Chuuya. He knew he never should have entered that relationship with you without you explicitly knowing. And was he ever sorry, seeing your weakened state and how much smaller you looked in that hospital bed amplified that. He stayed away because it's what he thought you wanted, that you were disgusted, never did he think you were going to find yourself sick in the hospital.

And well, Chuuya at the time was indifferent. Sure, the Mackeral should have done a lot different, but he didn't know you as well as he did Dazai. He did know you through Osamu, he knew details about you; hell he kept pestering Dazai to tell you early on so save both of you from the pain; he didn’t know things had gotten this bad. He didn't know you, but he wanted to, especially after he saw your smile and heard your laugh for the first time, even more so when it was over a piece of commentary regarding something dumb his ever so smart partner had just said.

Over time, your relationship with Dazai repaired and grew with Chuuya. Eventually, you found yourself in the best relationship you could ever hope to be in. Sincerely loved by both men and spoiled beyond belief, you didn't think you deserved it but were grateful you did. Most nights you spent in-between the two, curled into Dazai with Chuuya wrapped behind you; in fact most nights you actually got at least a few hours of peaceful sleep - this was the most rested you had been in years.

That's part of why you were worried when a joint mission with the ADA and Port mafia required the once double black to team up for a mission that was going to take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. Despite the usual efficiency between the two on missions, this was week three without them. You had managed to sleep maybe a collected 8 hours during that time. The three of you called regularly, sometimes it was enough to lull you into a light sleep but it never lasted a full hour. You would try to assure them that, yes you were getting some rest, but both men could hear the exhaustion in your tone as you tried to pretend for their sake.

So, when during one of your calls during a day you had off and you were sniffling and your voice sounded just a bit off, Dazai and Chuuya knew they had to finish this mission and finish it now. Of course they asked what was wrong and if anything happened just to make sure that wasn't the problem and you said you were sure it was just allergies despite it raining, it became clear to them your immune system had taken a hit. Which per past events, a simple cold had the high probability of moving downhill quickly.

You never had a particularly strong immune system, lack of proper rest tends to weaken its defense and ability to recover. By the end of the call you had let the coughs you were trying to hide slip and your voice was rougher than when the conversation started and you sounded absolutely exhausted. Keeping up the facade proved to be hard as the time went on.

This was more than enough to get double black to act quickly and end this. They had more than enough to report and act on. If their new plan went the way it was supposed to they would be back to you by tomorrow morning. By the evening hours the mission was completed, their bags were packed and Dazai and Chuuya were on a train back to Yokohama. Paperwork was done on the journey back and dropped off at its respected location before they made the trip back to mafia executives apartment where all three of you have been living. Dazai had made sure to tell shachou both of you wouldn't be in today or tomorrow, longer depending on how sick you were. Fukuzawa's eyes widened when he heard you were sick and told the brunette to not worry about coming back until you were in peak health, either of you. He knew Dazai was imperative to your recovery, sleep is a powerful medicine and you rarely got any without the detective.

After completing those quick tasks they met each other at the red heads building simultaneously and and hurried up the floors to reach the apartment. Getting ready to put the key into unlock the door both could hear a chesty cough and both looked at each other with wide eyes.

"Honey, we're ho-ome~!" Dazai announced sing songedly.

"Welcome back you two," you replied hoarsely before falling into the fit of coughs and slight wheezes.

Spotting you sat huddled in the corner of the sectional couch wrapped in the largest and fluffiest blanket they owned, Chuuya dropped his bag where he stood and made his way over to you. Watching you try to catch your breath worried him beyond belief as it reminded him of when you first officially met in that hospital room.

Placing his hand your forehead his frown deepened, "Oh lovebug."

Coughing a few more times you replied, "Sorry Chu."

"It's not your fault lovebug, let's get some medicine in you and get you in bed, okay?" Without giving you a choice he tugged you towards him before slipping an arm under your knees and the other on your back and lifting you up blanket and all. Dazai didn't miss the soft smile creeping onto his partners face as you nuzzled into Chuuya, relishing in the affection you've been deprived of the last few weeks. Wordlessly he made his way to the bathroom medicine cabinet and grabbed everything needed before walking into the shared bedroom and setting them down before preparing to change clothes. Osamu knew Chuuya was going to hold you and keep you to himself for a few minutes so you knew he was really there and to assure himself you were safe, so it gave him ample time to get things together. Taking off his typical ensemble and putting on a pair of charcoal sweatpants and pulling the navy t-shirt on just as Chuuya brought you into room, he got his first actual look at how exhausted and sick you looked. You seemed miserable and in more pain than he originally thought, but most importantly, you were so tired. And he knew better than to touch you until medicine has been taken.

That was the next action of business. Get you to take the multitude of medications he procured from the cabinet. He knew you were weak and feeling horrible but you never liked taking things, so often it was a fight. Nonetheless he proceeded to place each pill in a small cup for the pass off. If he so much as brushed your hand he knew you would be asleep almost instantly. And while sleep would help, it wouldn't be enough to get you back to peak health, not without the medicine. In the cup was a few vitamins, a decongestant, a cough reducer and something to hopefully bring your fever down. Currently placed in his pocket was your emergency inhaler left over from when you were able to come home from the hospital from before you had reconciled with him and your other lover.

Seeing the pills in a cup and small glass of water in his partners hand waiting to be handed to you Chuuya took the liberty of sitting on the side of the bed leaving you in his lap. Surprisingly but also unsurprisingly, you gingerly and gratefully took the cups into your slightly shaking hands to take the medicines. At least Dazai had the foresight to start off with the pills rather than any liquids, he knew you hated taking medicine in liquid form.

Noticing a slight bulge in Dazais pants pocket he asked, "Is that the inhaler?"

Glad his partner got the hint he confirmed it was before Chuuya took it upon himself to reach in and take it out while Dazai took the empty cups from your hands, longing to touch you but restraining. After looking at you Chuuya couldn't help but see how much these simple actions took out of you, exhaustion wearing you thin. Even keeping your head up was a struggle. He knew the inhaler could help, anything to help your lungs breathe better and decrease your wheezes. But he also knew you had very little strength left.

"Okay lovebug, we're going to tag team this, you know the drill," After getting the inhaler placed he counted down from 3 and pressed down to release the medicine.

You couldn't hold it in for long, forced to release a painful cough into your lovers chest, "Sorry Chuu," your hoarse voice rang out quietly.

"Bug its okay, you're sick and that was inevitable."

"I know. Just don't want you to get sick."

Coming back into the room after exiting the en suite bathroom Dazai chimed in, "We've got immune systems of steel we'll be fine. And if we're not we'll have the cutest nurse to take care of us."

Too tired to let out even a small laugh you smiled and responded, "yeah, I guess you're right.”

Chuuya went ahead and did a second dose of the inhaler, much like a similar response to before. After taking a coughing fit that had both men concerned for you wellbeing, they looked at each other reading each others minds as to whether or not they should take you to the hospital.

Half lidded, you looked at both of their faces and knew immediately what was on their minds, “I know what you two are thinking, and no, I’m not going to the hospital.”

”But love, you’re really sick, we’re just worried,” Dazai expressed wanting nothing more than to cup your cheek in his hand

”If-,” you began before coughing again, “If I get worse then you can take me. But I really just want to sleep first.”

Both men collectively sighed, in sync with each other after years of partnership. They knew any further arguing would be fruitless, also aware that they would have a hard time saying no to you when you were this sick and they had been away for the last few weeks.

Noticing the silence and your boys downtrodden faces you decided to break the silence, “So how was the mission, any issues? Take names? Kick ass?”

They knew what you were doing, and any other time they would have enlightened your antics, but chuuya could feel some of the fight leave your body as fatigue set in from the exhaustion and unconsciously knowing you were in a safe position. And so he gave you a small response to motivate you for later.

”You know I don’t kick any asses but yours and the shitty fish over here,” he smirked, “But I did kick some other things if you catch my drift.”

Before you had the time to continue your stalling tactic, wanting to spend time with Dazai and Chuuya that you had missed over the last few weeks, the later placed you in the middle of the bed so you would be between the both of you, as you were most nights. Dazai carefully pulled the blankets up so all either man had to do before crawling in to cuddle you from either side was pull their side of the corner back enough. While he did that, Chuuya changed out of his work clothes into a soft pair of pajama pants, and a silly t-shirt you had gotten him early into your relationship that he was too proud to admit out loud that it was his favorite thing in his closet next to his signature hat. After his quick change, the redhead crawled in behind you, not quite around your body like the koala he is just yet- he was waiting for you to settle yourself with Dazai who was turning out lights around the apartment.

Looking at both his lovers waiting for him expectantly, one smiling with a dopey grin, and the other with flushed cheeks and glossy, tired eyes, he couldn’t help but want to relish in the moment but run to both of them for some well deserved rest at the same time. He sauntered over to his side of the bed, gently pulling back the covers and climbing in. Wiggling his eye brows, opening his arms to welcome you, you giggled lightly and rolled your eyes before you inched your way into them. He became inpatient and proceeded to pull you closer against him, not missing the small pout from the man on the other side of your now aware of the gap between the two of you causing the brunette to smirk.

Sighing in contentment at finally having you in his arms, your head to his chest, Dazai smiled down at your face, admiring your beauty even when you were so sick. He waited for Chuuya to settle around you before he expressed ‘love yous’ to both of you. Osamu could tell you were seconds away from sleep as he kissed your forehead, officially activating his ability, as you begun some of the best sleep you swear was the best in your entire life.

[crystalandparrot]

RC9GN x Reader

Part 1, Part 2

“Hey, (Y/n),” Bucky spoke, spooking said girl out of her stupor as the two walked to school.

"Huh?" (Y/n) question.

"How come you only ever talk to me? I'm sure other students would love to hear your ideas." Bucky said optimistically.

"You really think so?" (Y/n) asked, eyes shining.

"Maybe not, all of them-"

(Y/n) deflated, causing Bucky to wave his hands frantically.

"But that's because they're not for high schoolers! I mean the home alarm, your staff, those goggles on your head—"

"Hey, these goggles help me log important information and — okay, I see your point." (Y/n) deflated again.

"What if you made something to impress them?" Bucky asked with a snap of his fingers.

"Something to impress them..." (Y/n) thought out loud. "Oh! What about my mechanical spider limbs?" With that, eight mechanical limbs popped out of (Y/n)'s hoodie, lifting her off the ground and flipping her upside down.

"You look like Invader Zim," Bucky chuckled, walking past the, once again, deflated girl. The arms retracted suddenly. With quick thinking, (Y/n) flipped and landed on her feet, surprising Bucky. "Do you know any more cool moves like that?" He asked.

"I prefer to show off my intelligence rather than physical prowess. Sure it's nice to have the ability, but my superpower relies solely on my brain!" (Y/n) said as she pushed open the doors to the school.

"Then you should put that brain to good use," Bucky held out his hand for a fist bump.

(Y/n) reciprocated the fist bump and the two parted ways. (Y/n) walked to her science class, which she always had for 1st period on Mondays. Mrs. Driscoll greeted her with a grin.

"(Y/n)! Any new inventions?" Mrs. Driscoll asked with stars in her eyes. She puppeteered her late husband's skeleton to 'talk', "Your inventions are positively humorous!" Mrs. Driscoll laughed and smacked Jerry's chest.

(Y/n) smiled and placed her satchel on Mrs. Driscoll's desk. As she did so, Randy Cunningham and Howard Weinerman happened to walk in. "Mrs. Driscoll, I present to you," (Y/n) held up a small box with a crescent-moon-shaped attachment, "the, still in Beta, the C.R.A.V.E.S, a system that, when placed against the user's teeth," (Y/n) put the device against Jerry's teeth. The machine beeped, "it tells you exactly what they were craving! For example, your husband was craving...scallops?" (Y/n) looked at the device in question.

Mrs. Driscoll sighed lovingly, "That was my Jerry."

(Y/n) shivered, she tucked her device away and walked to her seat at the back of the room.

"Who's that shoob?" Howard whispered to Randy.

More students began trickling in when Randy leaned close to Howard, "I have no idea, but she's pretty smart."

"A smart shoob is still a shoob," Howard said, pointing his pencil at Randy. Inside Randy's bag, the Nomicon quietly blinked red from behind its Math book cover, facing the direction of (Y/n).

As the final student, Bash (fashionably late as always), trickled in, Mrs. Driscoll began writing in the blackboard. "Welcome back, students!” She puppeteers her husband once more, “I hope your Spring Break was a bone-afide success!”

“Ha! Word play.” (Y/n) chuckled to herself. She sat at the back of the class, the two seats next to her empty while all the other seats were taken.

“And as a Welcome Back, I’m assigning your first projects of the next semester!” Mrs. Driscoll announced.

The students all groaned with the exception of (Y/n), “Oh, goody!”

“And since the school board has cut funding for the science department…again…this time you’ll be working in groups of three.” The words seemed to echo around the room. None of the students (with one exception) listened to the rest, as they were too busy deciding who to add to their group. Friends will be split, enemies made, alliances formed in blood… “You can now find your partners-“ with that, hell broke loose. Kids jumping over tables, holding back their friends to prevent a steal, throwing dangerous objects. It got to a point that Mrs. Driscoll hid herself and her husband under the desk.

“Cunningham! Save me!” Howard screamed as he was pulled into the wave of students.

“Hold oh, Big H!” Randy, without hesitation, jumped into the sea. His leg caught the strap of his backpack as he jumped, forcing the contents to be spilled all over the floor. The Nomicon hummed and blinked as students stepped and kicked it to the back of the room, the mask caught in its pages. With all of the abuse, the cover even came off, revealing its true cover to the world.

With a metallic THUD, the Nomicon hit the metal cabinet next to (Y/n). The girl let out a noise of surprise and looked up from her notebook. The Nomicon blinked softly as (Y/n) picked it up. Her hands traced the delicate patterns on the hard leather book, the feeling not uncomfortable to her hands like she imagined it would be. With a bit of remorse (Y/n) held the book away from her, “Oh, exotic book, what secrets you must hide—but alas! It is my code of honor to not open a book that does not belong to me…unless of course bought or received from a trusted source.”

The Nomicon flashed red, humming loudly.

(Y/n)’s eyes shone, “Maybe there’s an exception for glowing mystic books,” (Y/n) ran her fingers over the pages that begged to be opened. The Nomicon’s flashes got faster and louder, its pages flittering as they waited to be opened.

“Has everyone found their partners?” Mrs. Driscoll asked.

(Y/n)’s head shot up and with a sigh, she tucked the Nomicon into her satchel, the flap open to make for an easier grab. “Soon, my precious.”

In the middle of the room, Randy and Howard sat, rubbing their heads in pain. “Oh, good. Randy and Howard, you’ll be joining (Y/n).” Mrs. Driscoll announced once she saw they the three were, in fact, without partners. “(Y/n) has the highest grade in the class, so even you two should get a decent grade.” She chuckled.

“What?! But she’s a shoob!” Howard moaned.

“A shoob with the highest grade in the class! Howard, we can use this!” Randy whispered, excitedly. Both of the friends grabbed their bags and walked to (Y/n) at the back of the class.

“I don’t follow.” Howard whispered.

“We’ll act like total shoob’s, say we don’t know how to do the project, she’ll get annoyed with us, do the project and — BOOM, automatic A.” Randy smirked. The two sat down and a sudden flash of red distracted Randy. He looked down, spotting his Nomicon in (Y/n)’s bag. He nervously chuckled, “I-is, is that my book?” Randy asked, pointing at (Y/n)’s satchel.

“Huh?” (Y/n) looked down, at her bag. “Oh, it flew to the back, I didn’t know who it belonged to.” (Y/n) gently took the book out and traced the cover again. Shaking her head, she handed it back to Randy, “Where did you get it? I’d love to read it sometime, I’ve never seen anything like it.” (Y/n) spoke quickly, enamored by the book.

“Oh, it’s nothing just a little family history book. Old baby pictures, family trees—Really boring stuff, I’ll just take it off your hands.” Randy hurriedly took the book back, and shoved it in his own satchel. The Nomicon flashed brightly and loudly, angry at the turn of events.

“You bring family history books to school?” (Y/n) asked flatly.

“I-it’s for our History class! Some extra credit thing that you definitely don’t need!” Howard back his friend up, grinning awkwardly.

(Y/n) looked between the two skeptically, “Right…” with a quick hand, she opened her notebook to a fresh page and began writing, “So, ideas for our project?”

“Yes! Our project!” Randy grinned, winking at Howard.

“Totally love that project! I can’t wait to…do our project!” Howard added in a fake excited voice.

(Y/n) sighed out of annoyance, “You don’t know what the project is, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Not. A. Clue.”

(Y/n) gripped the bridge of her nose, “Super,” she gritted out through clenched teeth. “Cool, cool, cool. Cool, cool, cool.” She angrily closed the notebook and stood. “Why don’t I work on the project and you two do the report? All you have to do is write what the robot does AFTER I give it to you.” (Y/n) commanded as she pointed to Randy and Howard.

“But what do we—“

“You write down what it does!” (Y/n) took a deep breath, “I will give you a list of what it does. All you have to do is write a well written report.” (Y/n) began walking out of the room, “Even though my robot will be A plus guaranteed,” she whispered cockily.

“Those who are building, go to Mr. Smith’s metal shop for your basic design! Everyone’s who’s writing a report please go to the library!” Mrs. Driscoll announced after seeing (Y/n) leave.

“Automatic A—“ Howard started, raising his hand.

“Here. We. Come!” Randy punctuated each word with the next step in their secret handshake. They ended with their signature turn and pose.

The Nomicon angrily blinked, catching Randy’s attention. Picking up his bag, Randy held up a finger to Howard, “Give me just one second,” he whispered. He ran out of the room and into a Janitor’s closet. “Alright, Nomicon, I only got a few minutes before Driscoll realizes I’m not in the library, so be quick about it—“ the Nomicon flew open suddenly, causing Randy to lose consciousness and ‘Vloomp’ into the Nomicon.

Randy screamed as he fell through the artistic clouds and through the painted leaves on the two dimensional tress. With a couple of bounces, Randy finally landed against a tree trunk. “What the juice, Nomicon?!”

A painted scholar walked through the trees, smiling at Randy. Or at least, to the person behind him.

A painted ninja stepped through the trees behind Randy and walked up to the scholar. The ninja gave the scholar a piece of paper, and folded his arms. The scholar read the paper and nodded at the ninja. The trees fell backwards, blending into the floor as more of scene became exposed. The scholar walked to his small house. The sun rose and fell in flashes, showing how long the scholar was in his house. The sun rose once more, staying in the air as the scholar left the house, this time with a small box. He presented it to the ninja and began talking. No words or letters left his mouth, the only thing Randy could hear was soft flutes as the scholar spoke.

The ninja waved his hand and took the box, smokebombing away. The trees on the other side of Randy fell, blending into the floor, further increasing the scene. There was a small town with a large flying serpent terrorizing the village. With a puff of smoke, the ninja stood in front of the serpent. He opened the box and pulled out a smaller box with a button. The ninja looked at the box in question then pressed the button…nothing happened. He pressed it again and again…still nothing. The serpent AND the townsfolk all laughed at the ninja as he sulked. Colorful words flew out of the box and presented themselves over the ninja’s head.

“Neglect the brain and the heart becomes vulnerable.” Randy read aloud. “Uh, that scholar clearly sabotaged the ninja! I mean, who gives someone a box that doesn’t do anything?” Randy asked.

The ninja and scholar looked at each other unimpressed. The ninja pulled out his sword and the scholar…why is he holding a Bō staff? The two quickly ran to Randy and simultaneously attacked him.

With a gasp and a bump to the head, Randy left the Nomicon. He rubbed his head and looked behind him to see the shelf he bumped his head on.

Randy peeked his head out of the Janitors closet and rushed out before anyone could see him, bag in hand.

“AHHHHH!!”

“Someone get the Ninja!”

“Help!”

Randy gasped at the sudden cries for help. With no one in the hall, this was the perfect time to put his Ninja suit on.

“Looks like it’s Ninja o’clock!” Randy reached into his bag…except…

Randy’s heart fell into his stomach as his hand missed the soft fabric of the mask. He glared down at the bag, and upon not seeing the mask immediately, Randy overturned his bag and emptied the contents. The only object that was matching to the mask in color was the Nomicon.

“Sweet cheese, I lost the Ninja mask!”

————————

I swear I can hear the music starting and cutting out at the end. Also if you saw the lesson in the first chapter before I edited it, no you didn’t.

[nowiamcoveredinyou]

Summertime

BBC Sherlock

Fluff

"hey honey do you know where my ... Oh got it" I picked my favourite fountain pen from my desk that was hidden in all his stuffs, I mean our stuffs. Then I sat down with my notebook. This beautiful summer day made me wanna write a poem.

"is someone busy with poetry again?" Asked my husband as he came with my cup of team. Which surprised me as I didn't expect him to make tea this early in the morning. He sat , bringing another chair close to mine.

"one," I said taking my cup and placing in front of me, "you must know to wear clothes. You're literally wrapped up in bedsheet which doesn't hide much".

He knitted his eyebrows at me as he said, "excuse me everything is covered - oh!" As he scrutinized himself he found the bedsheet revealing exactly what should be hidden. He adjusted the sheet and cleared his throat.

"and two, when did you started making tea?" I asked cause every morning Mrs Hudson brings us tea, STILL.

"I didn't, I brought it from Mrs Hudson" obvious reply, shouldn't be offended.

"writing poetry again?" He asked raising his cup to his lips.

"no, I'm writing a poem, poetry and poems are different" I clarified and didn't have to look at him to know if he rolled his eyes at me or not. Because he did.

"you write both" he said after sipping his tea.

"quite right, I right both" saying so I started to doodle in the corner of my very artistic handmade journal which was so expensive that my mum couldn't answer me when she heard the price.

I let my pen flow, sometimes when writing doesn't comes, an art surely does and eventually end up making a line art of a peony. Sherlock sat and stared, he doesn't get much opportunities to spend a tranquil morning that often. Today was an exception.

I looked outside for inspiration. And the summer sun, the very bright pleasant summer sun of London, washing over the houses and rejuvenating us after a dull and gloomy winter was filled with imageries to write in a poem.

"have you ever wondered?" I asked, in a state of being mesmerized by the beauty outside, "what would the joy that the summer brings would look like?"

I heard him chuckle, his heavy voice filled the sitting room with a sultry air.

"I have" he replied, "I have seen what a bright joy looks like actually".

I turned to face him immediately, "you have? And what is it like?"

His eyes were fixated on mine with a warm smile on his lips as he replied, "exactly like you".

I knew the answer would be something like this, that took me back to the summer that was three years ago, when he handed me a book and disappeared into the crowded streets of London.

I opened the book after seeing it's cover, it was brida by Paulo Coelho. The book that was next on my tbr. And as I opened it I received a note, written by him that said, "all my happiness came wrapped in you".

Summer! Some Summers destroyed me, some made me happy. Alot of things came with summer. Like this aloof detective.

So with a sigh I finally penned the title of my poem that I was about to write, "Summer time".

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 14

Synopsis: The Reader gets a potential glimpse into her future. She also makes an enemy.

A/n: yeaaayyyy. More fun. Fuckery world building. Thanks to all my readers. I should probably do a tag list instead of zapping ur inboxes. Uhhh....yeah. to my mutuals who have to deal with me and aren't attached to this, I am sorry. I love you and I would donate my organs to you.

Grades were posted. Most were good, nothing to really write home about. You did far better than you expecting. The self-doubt really was deep-rooted, wasn’t it?

Except one. That stupid alien gave you a near-perfect. Just one point shy of an absolutely perfect one-hundred percent.

So much for no favoritism…

You’d take it anyways. And not bring it up…

Work was slow but it was steady.

He even met you between shifts at your park.

You started feeling a tad insane without him. Did love feel like this? You admitted you had little experience with love. Just what you attempted to create in the past. And trashy books and television shows and movies and songs…

You needed him like you needed a cigarette and a stiff drink after a long day.

Bella Swan would be so proud of you, you degraded yourself in your mind.

“How is work going?” The Doctor asked with genuine shine of curiosity in his tone and face.

“The amount of professors in now…I have to dodge them! I do think the statistics professor I had two terms ago recognized me!” You spoke in a shocked, scared tone. You didn’t need that getting out. Could ruin your future plans.

“Oh no!” He chuckled, as he handed you a bit of sandwich.

“You aren’t forgettable.”

You skeptically glared over at him.

“Any who. How was your gig at the student union?”

“No one appreciated the irony of Pink Floyd.”

“And?”

“Everyone loves Doctor Disco!” He flourished then played air guitar.

You burst out laughing. With a quick roll of your eyes, you shook your head.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“I invented the concept!”

“Probably true!” You let yourself think of his time on Earth. Who knew what funk he has spread? You weren’t going to delve into it much more.

Yet.

One day, when you felt brave enough.

“I have to go to London for a while in two weeks. Just maintenance of the Black Archives…I need to streamline some stuff for making it easier for my next few regenerations. And update some things about a plan for proxy since another organization is down to a woman named Gwen and her husband and she’s thinking of retiring the entire engagement. Her…leader hasn’t returned to the planet in ages. I doubt he ever will. This planet has caused him too much pain. Which, ironic, since his ancestors came from here. Talk about mother wounds! Just upload all the databases for UNIT to deal with.”

“Inviting me?” You clarified.

“Yeah…I think it’ll take a week. Especially with the layers of bureaucracy that is in place these days.” He looked over, his hair caught in the wind. “Could you spare a week? No TARDIS, no time travel. Just hop to, hop out, the slow way around.”

You licked your top row of teeth and scraped it back into place.

“Sure?”

“Perfect. I’ll have them ready a room, a better room for us.”

“One with a window?”

“If they do have those.”

You nodded.

“It’s a date!”

“Fantastic.” He smiled but seemed to flash in his eyes some hidden response from just the one word…

You chewed your shared sandwich and sipped your can of Coke Zero. The weather was getting warmer and the sun was actually shining in one of those perfect, photo-ready days.

“The vitamin D feels good, doesn’t it?” You turned your head to face the sun. The heat felt too good on your skin. You let a little moan slip through your lips.

“Perhaps. I might need a sun crème soon.” He replied.

You snorted. He was bone pale, but you didn’t know how alien skin worked yet.

“Yeah, you are pretty pale.”

Your alarm went off and you had to go.

Final good-byes said and you stalked off.

You had to plan out your little London escape. If it was hard work for him, you wanted to kill time in comfort. Do some sightseeing. Nothing major. London had tons of viral cafés and pop-ups.

The time flew by…

And suddenly you were off and away in another fancy armored Range Rover with armed escorts.

He did do you a bit of justice and got you a room with a view. Just not a particularly stunning one…

He went off, rather rapidly if you did say so yourself, because something needed him to submit his DNA and he couldn’t have any radiant interference. Petronella needed to be with him to get her DNA analyzed or something. You were not going to try to comprehend.

Fine by you, you’d nose around. There were so many floor and he gave you some sort of weird blank paper he said would get you through anything you needed.

“It’s psychic paper!” He said, smile up to his ears.

“Looks like a piece of printer paper shoved into an old wallet to me.” You replied as you regarded the object.

Fine by you, you stuffed it in your jean’s pocket.

You found yourself on the first floor, and saw a door open. There was a sign posted on an easel. ‘Companions and Surviving Family Support Group’, it proclaimed.

You put two and two together. It was probably in reference to the man doing who-knows-what.

You weren’t a companion per say. The Doctor assured you as much.

Did you invade? Did you go look at your future? Or a potential future? It mentioned family members…

Your curiosity got the best of you. Like that damn cat!

You walked in, it was set up like a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. Coffee, sweet treats, chairs all in a circle.

There were already a crowd of people.

And your entrance wasn’t exactly planned.

You slid onto the chair that was closest to the door. An east exit if this was too much.

“Oh! A new face!” A woman with a lot of life etched into her face with a kind smile and a mop of white-shock hair, her lips as red as blood.

“Does, is…am I late?” Was the best you could choke out. You could feel your eyes start to bulge. You swallowed hard. All eyes were on you. You didn’t like it. You preferred anonymity.

The mistake was already clear in your mind.

“No, dove. Right on time! We’re still waiting on Ian! I’m Jo!” She scooted her chair closer to you.

You thrust your tongue out and bit it’s side.

“I’m (y/n).”

A short woman with a leather jacket and all the authoritarian air of something that placed your hairs on the back of your neck at attention glared at you and Jo. “Why don’t we save it all for introductions…”

You got up and grabbed a bottle of water and sat back down.

An ancient man wandered in and sat down.

“Oh! Ian, love! We got a new straggler!” Jo said to him and gave him a hug that seemed too strong for her aged body.

The bossy girl cleared her throat. “Now we can start.”

You hated her already. She clearly ran this group with an iron fist.

There was Jo, Ian, the bitch’s name was Yaz, Martha, a woman who called herself Ace, a married couple named Nyssa and Tegan, a grandmother and grandson duo named Graham and Ryan, a Mel, and some young man named Luke…

Quite a big group.

It came down to you, you introduced yourself. And were supposed to give some brief synopsis of your relationship with the Doctor.

You stared off into space.

“Yeah, he’s here…doing something. I don’t know. I’m his…girlfriend. He’s also a professor at my university.” You stared at your left palm and gauged the reaction. “Nothing major. I’ve got his promise that he’s not going to get me in the way of death.” You finished with a shrug. “He introduced me to his…ex recently. Some milf named Missy. Have you lot met her?”

Yaz’s eyes could have make entrails out of you…

“What? Did I not brush my teeth correctly?” You pointed that faux-question towards her.

“She told me she didn’t do relationships.” She spoke in a tiny voice eventually.

“Well, maybe I’m special.” You shot Yaz a shit-eating grin masked as an innocent smile.

“Oh! I heard the Master went female!” Jo broke up your brewing tiff. “He was such a softie towards me! I enjoyed our little battles.”

You laughed and covered up your palm.

The conversations went on. Mainly centered around Missy now. Apparently she was the prime minister and tortured Martha and her family. Also, body-snatched Nyssa’s father. And became a cat. She’d certainly done her fair share of damage. No wonder she was chained up in a basement in Bristol of all places.

That explained her feline nature.

“Which Doctor are you with?”

“I don’t know. Tall? Thin? Scottish? Severe face? Plays guitar? Wild grey hair. Dark roots, too handsome…yeah.” You didn’t know how many or what the Doctor looked like previously.

“Oh. So the one before Yaz and Graham and me!” Ryan piped up. “She mentioned being a grey-haired Scot right before we met her.”

“Oh, so he got his wish of being a chick next.” You affirmed.

“Wonder what happened to you!” Yaz said, venom starting to leak into her voice.

“Nothing I need to know about, okay?” You pressured back. Two could play this game.

She clearly had sour grapes over you getting chosen and not her.

More conversations broke out, more story-swapping. You started to feel beyond way out just out of your depths. You had to keep your calm. Especially in front of your new foe. Any weakness and you were going to be either throwing down with her or she’d do something unspeakable.

She was apparently a police officer, after all!

“So you’ve never gone on an adventure? To space? Not even back in time? Or forward?” Ace spoke incredulously.

“No, I’m not going to put my life at risk. I made him promise to not. He’s retired. He just needs to help UNIT and rehabilitate Missy.”

“She doesn’t stay good!” Yaz spit out. She then told her tale of him and how the only way to break free from him, the Doctor had to hand Missy over to the Nazis.

“Not my problem.” You said, after finally scraping your jaw off the floor.

“And wow, what the fuck happened between now and when? Handing over someone to the literal Nazis?” You shot up an errant hand and glared. “And hanging around cops. No offense. It’s like historical Jesus versus American Jesus.” You made the decision to bite your middle finger nail in a covert attempt to flip her off.

“Maybe you had something to do with it.” She accused.

“Oh, yeah. Blame me.” You said.

Others attempted civility between the two of you.

Martha seemed between two minds here.

“Just remember how powerful your emotions are!” Ian called out. “Especially how deeply the Doctor evokes them in us!”

It dawned on you, and you decided to take the highest of roads. “Yeah, were dealing with some alien. Like…damn. We really are out here getting….cut up over an alien. He’s our weird alien. But yeah.” He was your alien. And you were going to defend your man, but you didn’t want Yaz and her feelings to make you any less powerful. “His body count has got to be in the millions.” You used the term in a way to dig in that the Doctor picked you for the mainstream meaning and not Yaz. But it worked for companions too!

“Who knows how many of us he’s taken a shine to!” Suddenly you felt yourself heart plummet. You knew you weren’t special as part of a group, but you decided to soothe yourself with your marked differences. No magical abduction story. Just a normal, morally-grey student and teacher relationship. Only it was your luck to end up with the most ran-through alien.

And, it did suit you. You too were ‘ran-through’.

You wished he was free and you could get some comfort here…

You felt yourself return to normal, and decided to pass the ultimate catch.

“Sorry for getting heated. The past month or so since he’s revealed his double life to me, has been…shattering. I’ve only recently discovered that he was…you know, not some man I hang out with. I only recently started calling him Doctor. Not Professor Smith.”

The though of him not taking anyone else as a lover after you did fill you with a sense of pride. Whatever impact you had, that was a mark in your favor. Loyal to you…even if you were dead or broken-up or whatever your fate was to mess around with anyone else.

A permanent (y/n)-shaped hole no one could even get close enough to fill.

When he was done with his task you’d have to slap him and then suck him off.

Martha finally put in her two cents.

“Just don’t get hurt. The last time he was in love when I was with him…so bad. The ending was enough to destroy me.”

“Thank you.”

The conversation went back to normal. You really enjoyed Jo’s stories. Apparently he was a white-haired debonair sort for her. You were curious to see what that had looked like. You doubted it could compare to your particular Doctor, but it was probably very close.

You found yourself laughing and getting along with most. Except for Yaz. You both kept finding yourselves shooting daggers at each other.

You tried to rise above it.

However. You were only human…

You heard a sharp rap at the door and turned at the noise.

It was your Doctor.

“Sorry. I was going to the toilets. Heard some nice familiar voices. Smelt the coffee! I love a cup of coffee after genetic sequencing…Hello!”

There were nary a word as he strode over and made a cup, dumping about a dozen sugar packets in.

“I’ll let you all talk amongst yourselves. Oh, and (y/n), I have tickets to walk through the Chelsea Physic Garden at three. Will you join me? And Martha, I am so deeply sorry for all I’ve done to you. It’s weighed on my conscience since I was a young man in a bow-tie. Truly. From the bottoms of both my hearts. And, oh, faces I don’t know yet, catch your laters.” He shot a quick peace sign.

He breezed out with the same ease that he came in with…

You flushed hard and felt yourself wanting to kick your legs hard. The smile that crept up around your face was probably very goofy. You felt suddenly very giddy and lovesick. And embarrassed.

You swore you heard Yaz mutter something about “Daddy issues”.

You wanted to snap and fight her on the floor.

Jo and Ace heckled. “Oh, he’s back to being a groovy gentleman.” Jo said. “I recognize that red jacket!”

After a while, everyone seemed to wrap it up.

You received quite a few warnings about how passionate a relationship with the Doctor is, and how it would eventually run it’s course.

You didn’t know whether to heed it, or believe him. You were airing on the side of him. After all, he could have popped down here in his TARDIS, but he was following your regulations down to the letter. Changed behaviors, and for whatever reason, when you were long gone, and he was a she, the Doctor didn’t take Yaz up on her romantic offerings.

You felt ashamed of your ‘I can fix him’/’I am the only exception’ mindset. You were a rebel to the idea of monogamy usually. You also didn’t believe in true love. Not after all that you’d seen at work and even experienced in your personal life. However, the beating of your heart and the ache in your soul and the throb of your cunt interfered…

You felt like you were his favorite.

Maybe you were.

You were delusional enough, you decided.

With final hugs and you swore you’d get down and learn more about your shared alien, you’d exited to go and text him that you were out front, smoking.

“You know, maybe you died from lung cancer.” Yaz materialized, carrying some stuff to her car. “Or emphysema.”

You blew out a puff in her general direction.

“I don’t need a lecture. He’s already on my ass enough to get me to quit.” You played back.

“So, lady Doctor. What does she look like?” You asked. Curious. You tried a friendly route. “Still Scottish?” The two incarnations of Time Lords you had met had been. It was an honest question. You even tried a cordial laugh.

“No, definitely not Scottish.”

You nodded.

“She’s blonde and has the most amazing eyes! I took her to get her ears pierced. She’s the most incredible and infuriating person I’ve ever met.”

“Apparently that’s par for the course.” You agreed.

She gave you some agreement.

“Does she still play guitar?” You offered an opportunity to bond, girl to girl. You may have hated her, but a cop on your side may come in handy. One day. And you both were tied to each other now.

So…you had to act your age or whatever.

She was a little younger than you. You could remember being her age. Empathy.

“No, she can’t even carry a tune. She sings all the time.”

You had to let a small snort escape.

“He can sing really well.” You cupped a palm to your mouth. “It’s a bit annoying at times, you know. He frequently does during his lectures.”

“So…that hadn’t changed.” You could see the gears in her brain turning.

“Wait, he’s your professor?” She exclaimed.

“Not currently.” You shrugged, as his text saying that he was coming down popped up, absolved of guilt.

“That’s so wrong!”

“Honey, the Doctor abducts barely legal girls with a degree of regularity. I think a tame affair with a student who started uni later than most is the best-case scenario. You included.” You flicked a bit of ash off your cigarettes end. “No offense.”

“Yeah…” You clearly won.

He swanned into the little front garden at the entrance of UNIT. He changed to a hoodie and simple black blazer and a relaxed pair of checked trousers.

It made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey. I was thinking Italian for dinner. Or Thai. In the fifty-second century there’s a great collision of their flight colonies.”

You smacked your teeth together and let out the final puff of smoke.

“You’re the Doctor before my Doctor.” Yaz gazed up, a look of pre-mourning in her eyes.

“As my wife, River, would say, ‘Spoilers, sweetie.’ It’s nice to meet you early. I’ll try to wipe you from my memory to make it easier for my future self.” He gave Yaz’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Yeah, good luck. See you soon?” You called out as you let yourself be swept off your feet by your particular Doctor.

“Sure?” You heard her say.

A few blocks later and going on the Underground, you pulled him close by the lapels. You gave him a firm kiss and slapped his ass. It was a ‘thank-you’ in a small, simple way. You’d never end up, all things go as planned, like any of those perfect victims. Who knew, maybe you’d dump him. It was all open-ended.

You had your entire life ahead of you. More or less.

For now, it was just you, the Doctor, and a walk in a garden with a fabulous dinner date.

“What was that for?” He looked at you quizzically.

“You’ll never know…” You grinned immensely and a little psychotically. You felt your nose crinkle a bit.

“Oh?” He replied back, skeptical in tone.

It was a start.

“Yeah…” You breathed, inhaling this moment. Inhaling the scent of him, you felt sane, safe, stable and most importantly- in love and loved back.

The train pulled up.

A perfect start to a perfect week.

He snaked out the psychic paper and tapped it like it was an oyster card. You entered the platform and smiled up at him...

Yeah, life was beyond awesome.

[saltygilmores]

Extremely Long And Exhausting Tale Of Salty's Skin Problems.

A few of you might remember me posting about skin issues I was having, back in the early summer. If you remember the story about how I was breaking out in mysterious hives, I have an update and it's certifiably insane. This is a long one…

Sometime around early summer I started to break out in mysterious hives that didn't appear to be a reaction to a food or any specific trigger. They would appear in random places, usually only one or two at a time and last a few days, they would start to fade, then just as I thought they were gone, they would come back in another spot. It was never itchy, it was more of a burning or inflammation sensation, at one point I was applying sunburn gel and ice packs to try to get relief. One day I woke up with burning hives stretching from my chest to my stomach and it was so uncomfortable I ended up leaving work. I went to my primary care doctor twice who prescribed skin creams and suggested anti histiamines that did nothing. Not knowing if I should start with an allergist or dermatologist, I started with a dermatologist. It was nearly impossible to find either an allergist or a dermatologist who wasn't booked for months in advance. Pretty sure I remember calling in July and some offices were booked through December. I managed to get an appointment with a dermatologist.

I had been taking pictures of most of the hives in case I needed to show a doctor like in this case. They were like perfect circles, 99% consistent in shape except one outlier that looked more like three wheals in a cluster shape and ignoring the fact that all of the other hives looked almost exactly alike, this dermatologist honed in on the picture of this outlier which I believe was on my inner thigh? And said "That's bedbugs, because they bite three times like that". Ummm? None of the other wheals were in threes and they had never been itchy like a bug bite, and I had never seen a single bug or anything whatsoever that would lead me to believe I had a bedbug infestation. I also had them in places that would have been covered by clothes, it's pretty horrible to contemplate that bedbugs would be going up my sleeve or into my pants or biting me near my butt, but idk. Maybe they can. Anyway.

I looked at her like she was batshit insane (spoiler alert: she definitely did misdiagnose me, but stay tuned for the rest of this story) and pretty much told her I didn't believe her. She asked me: Have you traveled recently? No Do you know anyone with bedbugs? No Have you stayed in any hotels recently? No Do you have any pets? No Did you have any guests in your house? No

How come I'm not itching? Idk?

Wouldn't I see some kind of evidence that there were bugs in my bed? No, not really

Well how would I have gotten bedbugs then? Idk? You should call an exterminator and stay at a hotel for the next week. Here's a prescription for a cream that treats bug bites.

I was LIVID. But I called an exterminator immediately who came to my house and found no traces of insects (he found one silverfish, lol) and said if you had bedbugs there would evidence they leave behind like blood residue. So, definitely still livid that this dermatologist so badly misdiagnosed me. For the next few months the hives continued. When they got so bad they were spreading to my chest and stomach and skin creams were doing nothing I knew this wasn't skin related and somehow found an allergist who could fit me in that day and wasn't booked 6 months out.

He disagreed that they were any kind of bedbug bites, a lot of of it having to do with the duration of how long they appeared before fading away- like hives from a food allergy or from petting an animal will go away after a few hours. These were persistent, 24/7 and never went away and he diagnosed me with chronic hives, which have no specific trigger, just a fault in the immune system that causes your body to attack itself, some people have them for months or even years. There wasn't much I could do but take anti histamines which I still found didn't work too much. I think the hives persisted for another month or so and it was such a fun game to see where the next one would pop up after the last one faded every three days!

AFTER I FINALLY felt like my misery was ending after a good three months, I actually got bedugs for real :)

I was having work done on my kitchen and a lot of people were in an out, designers, people carrying things inside, plumbers, electricians. I'm convinced they tracked the bedbugs into my house. Because Right after the work was complete in August, I started to itch horribly, mostly my hands, and it was very different from how the hives presented. From the fact that it only happened at night, only happened in my bed, and never happened anywhere but my bed, to the fact that I was finding random blood spots all over my bedding, yeah, I very much lived in denial for 3 months because how crazy would it be that one doctor misdiagnosed hives as a bedbug infestation and a week after the hives faded away someone tracks bedbugs into my house. What kind of bad Karma did I put out into the universe to be that unfortunate and WHY would I have bedbugs? For a while since I never saw any bugs I was convinced it had to be dust mites. I didn't want to pay an exterminator to come in and find nothing again. Again...with all the random blood spots on my sheets... total denial. I replaced all of my bedding multiple times, I bought an air purifier, I vaccumed my mattress and every inch of the bed I could find including the frame multiple times (never saw a single bug) I kept up with the vacuuming of the floor, washed my sheets in hot water, among other things, the itching wasn't going away and the denial was getting worse.

Anyway, the whole thing came to a miserable head last weekend when I pulled back my sheets and finally saw the actual bugs for the first time completely infesting my mattress. I went total apeshitpanicattackmode. This was last Saturday morning. I was completely hysterical and had to call my poor Dad, I put him through so much I swear. I somehow managed to call the exterminator and I had to wait until Tuesday until they came to treat it. Lord, it gets worse from here.

The receptionist at the pest control company said "you should sleep in your own bed, because if you decide to sleep on the couch instead they'll find you and follow you and make the infestation worse, and sleeping in your own bed will bring them out of hiding so we can treat them" Okay, you try to fall asleep in a bedbug infested bed, lady. Why did my dumbass try it? They were crawling all over my bed while I was fully awake trying to watch tv. They were on my pillow inches from my head, I was sucking them up with a vacuum, it was an absolute horror show nightmare shitshow and no one I know would do this if you paid them a million dollars. I don't even think jails make prisoners sleep in bedbug infested beds. No less for THREE NIGHTS. I moved to the couch and that's where I remain still. Come and find me, bitches!

I wish this was the end of this gruesome tale but alas…

In order for them to treat my bedroom I had to strip every item off my furniture of knickknacks and loose items, take down all of my wall hangings, remove every item of clothing from my closet (I HAVE A SHIT TON OF CLOTHES), remove the plates from every outlet cover, and everything had to be placed in garbage bags. I even bagged up my tv. I even put away my towels from the bathroom. It was totally exhausting and I was so overwhelmed and teetering on the brink of insanity.

Tuesday comes, the exterminators come while I'm at work, everything is hunky dory and I'm looking forward to ending this nightmare and sleeping in my own bed again. I bought new sheets and a new pillow. I'm told I can go back to sleeping in my bed that night. After the extermiantor treated my whole apartment, I guess my friends the bedbugs missed me so because minutes after I laid down in bed they came out of the woodwork. I found one crawling on my pajamas. I just lost it and nearly had a mental break. I took one Benadryl because I know it knocks me out cold and I didn't want to be awake. I had work in the morning, it zonked me out so bad that it was like my mind was awake but my body was fully asleep, like I was a zombie, when I woke up from my zombie sleep I could barely walk. And then I find out you shouldn't take benadryl if you're on Zoloft because they can make you double drowsy, Sooo, we're never doing that again. The zombie benadryl wore off and I was able to go to work (wednesday) but was falling asleep at my desk all day. My parents (again,bless them) who had nothing else to do tried to get in touch with the pest control company and got the run around all day until finally they got a hold of someone who said now I'm banished from my bedroom and HAVE To sleep on the couch for two weeks so the bedbugs can die and then the exterminator will come back to make sure they're really donezo this time. I can't go back in the room (luckily there's nothing left in there that isn't in garbage bags) and all of my clothes are in garbage bags all over my my living room. The couch is extremely uncomfortable to lay on but its better than having bugs crawling on your face. I had about a half dozen other minor to moderate misfortunes and panics already in the month of November so this was just the icing on top of the DonaldTrumpIsPresidentAgainInAMonth cake.

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 7 of ?)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

AO3 Link is here, my dear.

Word Count: 2584

------------------------------------

Act I, Chapter 7 - The Party

The next morning, the companions went to the druid grove, leaving you alone with Scratch and Withers once more. They figured with the goblin leaders dead, the rest would have fled, and camp was safely tucked away. Halsin had left before dawn, probably to get an early start dealing with whatever had happened in the grove while he was gone.

You were surprised when the companions returned mid-afternoon.

“Back so soon? Are we packing up?”

Karlach grinned. “The tieflings are comin’ here to celebrate before they head out!”

You couldn’t hide your surprised reaction quickly enough.

“Don’t worry, that’s why we came back early,” Wyll said. “To help you prepare.”

You weren’t worried; you just liked having a bit more advance notice than, say, a few hours. You could handle a big party, but you preferred smaller, quieter settings.

You immediately went into project manager mode, directing everyone to complete certain chores. By the time your first visitors began to trickle in, you had several game birds and a large boar roasting over a large fire pit. A rabbit stew was bubbling in a pot over the campfire. A second makeshift fire had a berry cobbler, and there was an array of wine and spirits set up on a flat rock nearby. Apparently the goblin camp had plenty of liquor to loot.

Fortunately, the tieflings brought some food as well, and everyone had a merry time. You flitted around, making sure everyone had enough to eat and drink. Everyone seemed nice enough, and even the kids were well behaved. You kept your gloves on, which had been the right decision, since a lot of people shook your hand, thanking you for the food.

You spoke with your companions too, just to make sure they were also doing well. And they seemed to be.

All except one.

You couldn’t quite tell what was causing his grumpy countenance, so you asked him how he was doing. You quietly listened as Astarion vented about not wanting to be a hero and having vinegar for wine.

You took his bottle away and took a swig. You immediately grimaced; this particular bottle had a heavy red wine, dry and sharp. “Yeah, this red is not… to my tastes.”

“See? Awful.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But it’s what you meant,” he countered.

You gathered two things from this conversation: one, he needed to have the last word, and two, he was probably hungry. “You’re being grumpy. Should I feed you and tuck you in?”

He glared at you for a moment, before his eyes lit up, as if he suddenly had a great idea. 

Oh gods, what now.

“Are you suggesting we steal away together? Privately?”

“I, erm—”

“We could make our own fun. Get a little closer, so to speak.”

Let me finish my damn sentence. “That’s not—”

“—what you meant?” he finished for you.

You glared at him.

He took a step closer to you. “All teasing aside, I am feeling a bit peckish.” He glanced at your scarf, which you had put on just in case of accidental contact. “Does your offer still stand?"

"I suppose," you replied, but you were wary of the suggestive smirk he was giving you now. 

"Excellent. Come to my tent when everyone is gone, so we can have some… privacy."

You nodded, but part of you was already dreading it. 

***

The party went on into the night, but some time before the witching hour, you bid farewell to the last of the guests and shooed the companions into their tents, insisting that clean up could wait until morning. 

You waited thirty minutes before sneaking into Astarion's tent. 

He was lying on his side, his shirt off, casually reading The Quarta Sune, the book open to a very explicit diagram. He closed the book as you stepped inside and knelt down beside his bedroll. 

"I was waiting for you," he murmured as he sat up. 

Then he glanced at your neck. Without him asking, you tipped your head to the side. 

"Can’t get enough of my bite, can you?"

"Just shut up and drink," you said without any real venom.

He got onto his knees and leaned forward. His hands held your shoulders, and through his touch you felt… almost nothing at all. As if he had built a wall around his heart and was hiding desperately behind it.

Something’s wrong.

He breathed in the scent of your neck before biting down. You braced yourself against the physical pain of the bite, but you didn’t need to steel yourself mentally. His usual emotions were barely there. After a few deep draws, he released you, languidly licking the blood from the wound before kissing it lightly. You should have felt something, even a flicker of fondness. But you felt nothing from his touch.

He’s disassociating. 

“There, all better,” he said, giving you a sensuous smile. A light smear of your blood remained on his lips, and his eyes glimmered with new strength. He really did look like something out of a romance novel, and your eyes followed the movements of his tongue as he licked the blood away. If you hadn’t known that his actions were purely performative, you might have fallen for it.

You reached up to your shoulder and touched his hand. “You’re not actually attracted to me, Astarion.”

His eyebrows rose, his mask cracking for a moment before it reformed in the blink of an eye. “Of course I’m attracted, darling.” His free hand cupped your chin. “How could I not be when you feed me such a delicious snack in the middle of the night?”

You took his hand and gently moved it away from your chin. Holding both his hands in yours, you stared into his eyes to make sure he was listening, truly hearing you. “And I’ll always feed you. So you don’t have to put on a show for me. Just be yourself.”

…confusion…

You let go of him. Your hunch was right. It was as if no one had ever done anything for him without a price. Your heart broke for him.

Holding back your own emotions when they threatened to push you to tears, you instead smiled softly at him. “Now, if you’re feeling better, I need to rest.” 

On a whim, you leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his. “Sweet dreams, Astarion.”

You quickly left his tent, but you glanced back to see him watching you, a puzzled look on his face as the tent flap closed behind you.

***

Just as you were about to crawl back into your bedroll, you heard a rustling in the bushes. Slowly walking towards the sound, you stopped short when you saw the owlbear cub limping towards you, blood on its front paw that it was favoring with each step.

“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured. “Wait here a moment,” you told it, hoping it would understand. You went to the party’s traveling chest and pulled out a couple of potions and some cured meat. Returning to the creature, you were relieved to see it had plopped down on its hindquarters, watching as you knelt down in front of it.

You lay down the cured meat, and though the creature looked at it warily at first, it eventually began to eat. Meanwhile, you uncorked the teal colored bottle and smelled it. Yup, this was the one you were looking for; it was hard to mistake the smell of hay, musk, and manure for any other potion. Holding your nose, you chugged the potion as quickly as possible. You resisted gagging as you waited for the potion’s effects to take hold.

Seconds later, you could feel that your hearing had become a bit sharper, as if there was a layer of sound in the world that suddenly became audible. You could feel the path of communication widening in your head, and it gave you a slight headache.

“Can you understand me?” you asked as a test.

The owlbear looked up, wide-eyed in surprise. “You talk?” The voice sounded like a young boy in your ears.

You smiled. “Yes, I can talk.” You held up the red bottle. “Are you hurt?”

He held up his injured leg. Taking his little paw in hand, you uncorked the healing potion and poured a few drops on the wound. The cut closed up a little, so you slowly poured a bit at a time until he was fully healed.

“There, all better,” you murmured, realizing belatedly that Astarion had said the same thing to you earlier. Shaking your head of the memory, you brought yourself back to the present and began a conversation with the cub. Chatting to the little guy was intriguing. You were charmed by his wish to be stronger, to fight bigger opponents and grow strong.

“So, will you stay in my camp?” you asked.

“Yes. Smells nice here. You have food.”

Simple desires. You already loved this cub. You would kill anyone who tried to hurt him.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Scratch slowly approaching.

“If you stay, you will need to be friends with Scratch,” you told the cub.

The cub looked over at the dog. You beckoned him over, and he loped closer.

“Is this a new friend?” Scratch said. He sounded a bit like a young man.

“Yes, a new friend.” You pet both of their heads. “Let’s all get along, shall we?”

Scratch made a soft chuffle in agreement before looking at the cub. “I’ll show you around. The best sleeping spot is…”

Their voices trailed off as they wandered away together. You couldn't help but smile, even as your head continued to pound. The effects of the potion would wear off soon enough, so until then, you’d have to just deal with the headache.

But it was worth it.

***

Morning came far too soon. You were exhausted, but as much as you wanted to sleep in, you had to get up and start breaking down the camp. It was time to head towards the githyanki creche. Lae'zel had been insistent that it would hold the key to solving their tadpole problem, and the rest of the group figured it couldn't hurt to check it out for now, before heading to the Moonrise Towers that Halsin had mentioned. In fact, the large druid was now accompanying your party, as a thanks for helping him escape from the goblin camp.

As you followed the group towards the mountain trail, the base of your spine tingled.

Godsdammit.

You opened your mouth to tell your group that you had a weird feeling about all this, but you thought better of it. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe you were just being paranoid.

While you were debating whether or not you should say something, you could hear everyone exerting themselves. Looking up, you watched everyone jump over the broken stone bridge with ease.

Gods DAMN it.

“I’ve got you,” Gale said as he waved his hands and gestured in your direction. You suddenly felt light as a feather.

Karlach waved you over encouragingly. “C’mon, jump!”

You peered over the side of the bridge and felt your heart leap into your throat. Backing away from the edge, you shook your head. Maybe you could find another way around and catch up to them later.

“Come now, no time like the present,” Astarion said from beside you. He leapt over the chasm gracefully, landing like a cat and spinning around to give you an arrogant sneer.

You snide son of a—

“We’re waiting,” he mocked.

Gritting your teeth, you took a few steps backwards, ran, and leapt right at him out of pure spite. However, the spell had made you much lighter, which threw off your sense of gravity. You floundered in the air as you practically floated over the chasm.

Astarion smoothly stepped out of the way as you landed and stumbled, nearly falling over until Gale gripped your upper arm to keep you steady.

“Right, up you get,” he said. Once you had your feet properly under you, he let you go and brushed your sleeve where he had grabbed you. “Ready to go?”

“Yup,” you said, your voice a pitch higher than normal. He smiled, nodded, and quickly turned back to the path along with the others. 

You carried on behind them, watching their backs. So strong, so able. You felt a little helpless compared to them. Even Scratch and the cub were able to easily leap across the bridge without assistance.

Am I holding them back? Perhaps I should have parted ways with them at the grove.

Shaking your head of your negative thoughts, you traveled north, through rather pretty mountain pathways, with the occasional wraith coming to harass your party. You were quite impressed by how your companions would quickly trounce their enemies, so you felt safe. Gale would always stay behind with you and sling spells from a safe distance while the others charged ahead.

As you carried on along the trail, the base of your spine tingled again. This time, you couldn’t ignore it.

“Hey, I think—”

Shouts interrupted you. As the path crested over a hill, you could see in the distance a group of githyanki facing off against some mercenaries.

Lae’zel dropped her backpack and ran off. The others immediately followed suit.

“Stay back here and hide,” Gale called out to you over his shoulder as he ran with the others.

You quickly grabbed everyone’s packs, dragged them off the road, and hid in a copse of trees. Your spine kept tingling, non-stop.

What in the hells…

A large shadow flew overhead, drawing your attention skyward.

What in the hells, indeed. 

A red dragon, majestic and terrifying, with a rider on its back, glided past. You saw everything from a distance: the bridge burning, bodies flying, the dragon soaring away. The smell of burnt flesh and unintelligible angry voices floated towards you. You trembled as you realized that whatever you had gotten yourself into, it would probably only get more dangerous from here.

I should bail. They don’t need me. They can handle themselves.

As the group came back from the wreckage to get their packs, you had resolved yourself. Clearing your throat, you mentally prepared yourself to speak.

“Lae’zel scouted ahead,” Wyll said before you could say a word. He picked up her pack as well as his own. “We should catch up to her.”

Without giving you a chance to say anything, the others began to walk towards the mountain path. You followed, wondering if they would even notice if you turned around and left now. Then you shook your head of the notion. Of course they would notice, because then they’d have to cook their own food and put up their own tents.

And you hadn’t collected this week’s wages yet.

Though if you were being honest, you weren’t staying just for the job anymore. You were staying for the people. You had grown attached to them, begun to care for them not just as people who were paying you a wage to take care of their camp, but as actual friends. And friends didn’t leave without a damn good reason.

Like my life being in danger.

All of their faces came up in your mind. Small moments, smiles, and words of gratitude. A certain someone’s face tended to show up more than the others in your memories.

You sighed.

Perhaps I should decide later.

----------------------------------

Chapter End Notes: A little peek behind the scenes - I’ve written through chapter 10, and going back and editing and making sure that continuity remains intact. Please let me know what you think of the story so far! Thank you for continuing to follow our Hearth Witch on her adventure!

[littencloud9]

jun'ichirou & steinbeck + you have one week to steal a tractor

kunikida & ranpo + PLEASE GOD I JUST WANT A BLACK COFFEE

nathaniel & kajii + alexa… initiate self-destruction…

poe & gin + it wasn't very nice... but i did it anyway

hope some of these spark some inspiration <333

corey your prompts are the funniest things ever ily

jun’ichirou & steinbeck + you have one week to steal a tractor

“And so,” Lucy sighs. “you have one week to steal a tractor. Any questions?”

Jun’ichirou glances at the people beside him. He’s had the unfortunate opportunity to sit right in between the two organisations, the Agency and the Guild. Technically, only the teenagers from both sides are here, so it’s slightly less intimidating, but still.

Except for the guy next to him who is taking bites out of a raw, unpeeled potato.

Steinbeck catches his eye and smiles, offering up the half-eaten potato. “Want a bite?”

“…No thanks.”

“Shame. You know, we don’t have to steal a tractor. I’ve got tons back home.”

Jun’ichirou blinks. “Isn’t your home, like, half the globe away?”

“Yeah. I could get Herman to fly us there really fast though.” Steinbeck decides he doesn’t want his potato anymore and sets it down on the table. “Want to come with?”

Jun’ichirou would actually much prefer to steal. But Steinbeck is beaming, punching him in the shoulder. “Awesome, man! I’d love some company. Louisa won’t come cause she’s scared of my sister.”

“Oh,” Jun’ichirou says, for he does not know what else he can say. “Um. Okay.”

“Yeah!”

—

kunikida & ranpo + PLEASE GOD I JUST WANT A BLACK COFFEE

“PLEASE GOD I JUST WANT A BLACK COFFEE.”

Kunikida slams his head on the table. He wonders if that gave him a concussion. He hopes it did.

“AND I WANT A MILKSHAKE!”

He flinches at the booming voice from behind him. Ranpo has their hands cupped around their mouth as they yell, and when Kunikida looks at them, they grin.

“LET’S GO GET OUR DRINKS!”

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING?!” Kunikida wails. He knows he yelled first. But still.

“I DON’T KNOW!”

Ranpo leaps off their chair, heading towards him. They grab Kunikida’s arm and drag him out the office, humming to themself.

“Wait,” Kunikida blurts, stumbling down the stairs. “I wasn’t that serious. I still have work to do—”

“I wonder how many espresso shots will kill you,” Ranpo says, ignoring him. “Let’s go find out.”

“…Yeah, okay.”

—

nathaniel & kajii + alexa… initiate self-destruction…

Nathaniel has no clue how he ended up here.

This is all Mark’s damn fault. If they didn’t insist on dragging him to a bar, specifically a gay bar (how horrendous), then he wouldn’t be stuck in this position, entertaining a drunk lunatic who also happens to be a mafia bomber.

Kajii fawns over his phone, speaking to Alexa through it and gasping whenever the AI replies. Nathaniel does not want to be here.

“You know, it’d be cool if I could attach something like this to my bombs!”

“Really,” Nathaniel deadpans.

“Yes! It would be a final, powerful command. Like… Alexa, initiate self-destruction! And bam!”

Maybe if Kajii bombs this entire place up, Nathaniel would finally know peace. He nods in agreement. “You should definitely try that.”

“Ay, really? Man, I don’t know who you are, but you’re awesome!”

“I told you my name three times already,” Nathaniel grumbles. “Though I’m not exactly sure why,” he adds under his breath.

Kajii either ignores him or doesn’t hear him, for he cackles, slapping his back.

—

poe & gin + it wasn’t very nice… but I did it anyway

“It wasn’t very nice… but I did it anyway,” Poe admits.

Gin laughs under their breath. It’s hard to picture Chuuya stuck in a book, losing his cool and coming out completely disheveled, but Poe doesn’t seem like he’s lying.

“That’s okay. You have a cool ability.”

Poe’s fingers, which were running through Karl’s fur, stop and twitch. “R-really?”

They nod. Though they’ve gotten used to being surrounded by powerful ability users, they still find themself awed over the more unique ones.

Gin doesn’t need an ability to protect themself, but there’s no denying that ability users like Ryuunosuke are on a different level. It’s nice to meet someone so, well—

Humble, maybe?

Gin wonders if they could get out of the book on their own. They voice this question out to Poe, whose eyes widen.

“I’m not sure I want to let you try that…”

They huff. Whatever. They definitely could.

[motions1ckness]

hi 🙂 can you do roman roy x asexual fem reader where reader has a crush on roman (shaky hands blushy cheeks when he is close) and gardener in logan's house, so one day roman is walking in garden and hears her talking on the phone with her friend about how she doesnt want to have sex with anyone, and will never have children etc. And realizes she is just like him. Aaaand He starts talking to her...

ofc and i hope you enjoy!

content: ace!reader, f!reader, pining, fluff, mention of sex

Your mornings started with a 20-minute commute to manage Logan Roy’s garden. What the fuck does he know about flowers? To your surprise, a lot. Marica hired you as a gift for Logan. She told you his mother used to bring discounted bouquets home when he was a kid, so no pressure.

Today went on like the others, showing up at nine, and doing your job, except for the part where his kids stopped by. Fuck.

His youngest, Roman always caught your eye. Usually, you would be there for a few hours and be gone by noon, but now Roman was here. You tried prolonging your stay, now glad you began wearing summer dresses to combat the warmth.

Frankly, you've never spoken to any of Logan’s kids. They'd sometimes call out to you, or Roman would comment on Logan, “only hiring hot people.”

Before heading out, you phoned your roommate, who teases you because you casually walk into a billionaire's home every day.

They picked up within two rings “Hey, what’s up are you almost off yet? Or does the old man want you to be human furniture?” They say with a sarcastic tone. You laugh but also don't put it past the family.

“I’m about to go, it's just, you know his son? Roman, the one I keep telling you about?” You were slightly pacing, turning to peer inside, but it’s not like you could look in if you want to. Logan made it impossible for anyone to peek in.

The call caused Logan to notice you chatting and not working. He sent Roman to check on you, which caused him to feel Logan was punishing him by sending him outside. With a soft exhale, mixed with a groan, Roman headed towards the terrace.

“Oh? Should I break out candles? Pre-order a new mattress?” The other line egged on. You rolled your eyes at the comment, completely forgetting you were at work. The terrace was rather big. It wrapped around half the suite. Making Roman’s entrance undetected.

“Yeah, sure. But for real, It’s not like a sex thing. You know I’m not into that,” you slightly clear your throat, embarrassed by the thought someone would hear you from inside. Unbeknownst to you, Roman was listening to the conversation. When he heard you talking about sex, he panicked and moved toward the wall so you couldn’t see him. He thought it would be worse if you found out someone heard you. “It’s already bad enough it’s my boss's son.” That caught Roman’s attention, apart from him fearing you were talking about Kendall, but he couldn’t stop listening. Like a book he couldn’t put down.

“I think that makes it more fun. You know, sneaking around. But without the sex. Anyway, what was he wearing? I need more details than just his name and what the press says. C’mon, tell me who is the Roman Roy.” You liked how engaged your friend was, fearing opening up about your crush would end in humiliation.

“I don’t know what he’s wearing, I can’t see through the glass. But uh, I don’t know ‘the real Roman Roy'. I don’t interact with any of them. They’re all scary as shit, but I think it's time to head out. It’s fucking scalding.” Followed by exchanging goodbyes and looking up when the next train was going out.

Roman knew that conversation was about him, which made him nervous talking to you. It wasn't the first time you piqued his interest, how your wardrobe changed according to the weather, and how meticulous you get about the garden's appearance. You fascinated him. He also felt relief hearing you didn't want to sleep with him. Intimacy was his grey area, and he loved not feeling pressure to do it.

Roman waited a few seconds before emerging and speaking up, “Uh, my dad um, just wanted to know what you were doing out here,” Oh my god. He undoubtedly heard you. You wanted to curl up and die or resign out of embarrassment. Maybe he JUST got here, let's hope.

You turned to face him, feeling your face flush, “Oh, just heading out, looking when the next train is going out,” You put on a smile, hoping it makes you seem coy. It didn’t. Even if he didn’t overhear you, your face was beet red and your hands were slightly shaking.

“Well, I was about to head out, maybe, I can give you a ride? Or get a drink somewhere?” You could've sworn your face turned scarlet. Holy Shit. You stood in awe for a second, unable to fathom the words he spat out. “Um, y/n? Are you having a heat stroke or something?” He shields his eyes, feeling the heat against his skin, “He is a piece of shit for making you work out here, wow.”

You finally grasped what he said, “Y-yeah it’s actual hell out here, but going out sounds fun yeah.” You tried your best to sound easygoing after facing the worst embarrassment you've ever endured.

“Cool, uh, my driver is downstairs already,” he said in a merciful tone, gesturing for you to exit first.

The car ride was mostly silent. A few questions got thrown out asking about your job to ease the drive. The bar was incredibly upscale, feeling out of place arriving in your work clothes. Roman did his best to make you feel comfortable, he paid for the tab, and reserved a quiet area; he was trying to impress you. He asked about your life while you tried your best to pry about his.

“C’mon, tell me about something not so surface,” you paw at him, the two of you facing each other. You scanned his face as he took a sip of his drink, patiently waiting for his response.

He set the drink down, slightly smiling to himself because of the comeback he came up with, “So you could know ‘the real Roman Roy?’"

[mncxbe]

Just an Ango thingy I decided to write because I miss Paris !! season 2 spoilers

5:40♧

𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒐 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: slight angst/ happy ending

The rattle of the rails reverberated through the entire tunnel, announcing the arrival of the midnight subway. It was a chilly autumn night and you were heading home from work. Just like every night, you were going to take line 14 from Châtelet to Saint-Lazare, then switch to line 13 to get to Saint-Denis, a total of 12 stops. This half hour trip to your crappy apartment was usually spent listening to music or reading the awfully long book you started the day you arrived in Paris two months ago; but not today.

As soon as the automatic doors of the subway closed behind you, your eyes landed on the poster glued to the tube's metal wall. It was a picture of the Ookagawa river in Yokohama, its banks lined with blossomed cherry trees. A sudden wave of nostalgia took over you and the memories came flooding in, echoes of the life you left behind.

You usually avoided thinking about your hometown and the people there; the memories were so fresh, the pain so vivid.

Only four months prior you were sitting on one of the high, rotating chairs at Lupin, celebrating Dazai's birthday with Oda and Ango, the people you considered your closest friends; your family. The drinks came one after another and except for Ango, who had his usual tomato juice, you were all tipsy.

"Ey Dazai. You've got enough to cover the bill, right?" you half laughed as you heard Dazai whine.

"But it's my birthday. Why should I be the one to pay?"

"Don't worry, birthday boy. I got you." said Oda in his usual calm voice.

You gently nudged Ango's arm, causing him to tense "You sure you don't want anything to drink?"

"No. Someone has to drive you home anyway." he replied without taking his eyes off of the glass in front of him.

Ango was the newest addition to your group; quite a reserved and stoic guy but you still liked him. He would often give you a lift after you had a few glasses at the bar.

"Alright. Suit yourself then."

That evening you parted ways, promising eachother to meet more often. Dazai left with Oda and you with Ango; the latter opening the passenger door for you.

"Angoo" you whined as you dropped onto the cushioned seat "My head hurts"

"Of course it hurts. You've had a lot to drink" he said in a slightly amused voice.

You noticed a few weeks prior that Ango would often let his guard down when it was only the two of you. It was a subtle change but you still noticed it: his shoulders were less tense, the line between his eyebrows would almost completely fade and he'd laugh more often.

During the ride home you looked at his profile. You were mesmerized by the way the city lights reflected in his glasses.

Without thinking, you reached for his glasses and snatched them, causing the man to almost crash into a nearby car. He managed to pull over in an empty parking space.

"Jesus, Y/N. I almost hit someone what are you doing?" he questioned in a harsh voice; but all his anger dissipated when he saw you propped against the door, adjusting his glasses on your face.

"Looook Ango. I'm pretty just like you now" you blurted out while smiling from ear to ear. A slight blush tinted his cheeks as he seized his glasses, earning another whine from you.

You were both quiet for the rest of the ride and by the time he pulled into the parking lot of your building you were almost asleep.

"Wake up, we're here" he spoke, gently shaking your shoulder but you only shurgged.

"Don't wanna go"

Ango looked at you for a few minutes, debating his next actions. He could let you sleep in his car, but that meant he'd have to spend the night in the parking lot. Or he could carry you to your apartment, which is exactly what he ended up doing.

Luckily the building had a functional elevator so he needn't walk you up the stairs to the 16th floor. He unlocked your door and walked inside your flat, placing you on the bed. Even in this drunked state you were pretty; laying on your side, your flushed cheeks like ripe apricots.

Just as he was about to leave you opened your eyes, calling out his name.

"Stay Ango please. Need to tell you s'mthing" you uttered while patting the bed. He cautiously took a seat and you pulled him down next to you, your arms wrapping around his torso.

He tried to protest but to no avail; you wouldn't let him go. Instead, you shifted closer to him, your face finding its way to the crook of his neck as you whispered a soft "I like you Ango" before drifting to sleep.

From then on you started seeing the man more and more often, the relationship between you growing by the day. It was still complicated; Ango was secretive and distant but you compensated with patience and trust. He eventually gave in and in three weeks time you started dating. It was one of the happiest months of your life; the usual missions were followed not by lonely nights, but by wonderful evenings spent in the comforting embrace of your boyfriend. "You did great today", "I'm really proud of you" he'd praise you, his fingers tracing random shapes along your thigh.

You'd often go on small dates: walks in the rain, late night talks under the starry sky on the top of his apartment building, a glass of wine in your hand, quick runs to the bookstore and occasional visits to different art museums; other times you'd simply join Dazai and Oda for drinks at Lupin.

But regardless of what you did in your free time, you did it together, your lives and routines slowly bleeding into eachother.

Your relationship ended abruptly on the day Oda died. When you found out about his involvement in your friend's death you fell to pieces. Although Ango begged you to stay, claiming that he never knew what would happen, that he didn't mean to hurt anyone, you couldn't be with him any longer. At least not now. No, you didn't blame him for Oda's death but he still lied to you and you felt betrayed.

The decisive factor in your resolve to flee the country was Dazai's disappearance. When you received his note saying that he'd left the Mafia and was going under the radar for a while, you booked a one-way flight to Paris, packed your few belongings and left.

Your recollection was interrupted by a loud chime that echoed through the subway, followed by the familiar mechanic voice that announced your arrival at the last station.

You quickly stepped out of the tube and navigated through the maze of tunnels until you reached the surface. A light drizzle had started while you were underground so you hurried home, eager to be confined in the comfort of your apartment.

When you opened the front door, the unopened envelope that lay on the ground caught your eyes. You picked it up and immediately recognized the handwriting. Without wasting a minute you tore the cover and procured the letter inside, your eyes scanning the paper.

Dear Y/N

I thought about whether I should reach out to you or not but I think it's time I did. Since you haven't been returning my calls I decided to write you a letter. It's been two months since Oda died and things are rough here; I just want to know if you're okay and safe. Please come home soon, I miss you.

Ango

You stared at the written piece of papern, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, clouding your vision. A few minutes later you neatly folded the letter, placing it on the countertop.

Maybe you were going to answer him, maybe you were going to go back to Yokohama, to him, but maybe you should think about these things tomorrow. But...

By the time you fell asleep, the night sky was already giving way to the rosy colours of the sunrise. The warm rays that entered the room through your large window fell onto your sleeping figure, illuminating the screen of your phone.

Suddenly, its display lit up and a blip announced that you had a new message:

I see my letter got to you, thanks for texting me. I'm really glad you're doing okay. Whenever you decide to come back I'll be here for you. ~Ango

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Serializing the opening of “The Lost Cause”

On October 7–8, I'm in Milan to keynote Wired Nextfest.

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful tale of the climate emergency, which comes out on November 14. Kim Stanley Robinson called it "an unforgettable vision of what could be":

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause

I'm currently running a Kickstarter campaign to pre-sell the audiobook, which I produced and narrated myself (for complex and awful reasons, Amazon won't carry my audiobooks, see the Kickstarter campaign page for details). You can also pre-order the ebook and hardcovers, including signed and personalized copies:

http://lost-cause.org

For the next week or so, I'm going to be serializing the prologue of the book, which gets it off to quite a spicy start. Here's part one!

I thought that I was being so smart I signed up for the over nightwhen pager duty for the solar array at Burroughs High. Solar arrays don’t do anything at night. Because it’s dark. They’re not lunar arrays.

Turns out I outsmarted myself.

My pager app went off at 1:58 a.m., making a sound that I hadn’t heard since the training session, GNAAP GNAAP GNAAP, with those low notes that loosened your bowels offset by high notes that tightened your sphincter. I slapped around my bed for my screen and found the lights and found my underwear and a tee and then the cargo pants I wore on work duty and blinked hard and rubbed my eyes until I could think clearly enough to confirm that I was dressed, had everything that I needed, and then double-­checked the pager app to make sure that I really, actually needed to go do something about the school’s solar array at, I checked, 2:07 a.m.

2:07 a.m.! Brooks, you really outsmarted yourself.

Gramps’s house had started out as a two bed/one bath, like most of the houses in Burbank, but it had been expanded with a weird addition at the back—­again, like most of the houses in Burbank—­giving it a third bedroom and a second bath. That was my room, and it had its own sliding door to the backyard, so I let myself out without waking Gramps.

It was warm enough that I didn’t need a jacket, which was good because I’d forgotten to put one on. Still, there was just enough of a nip in the air that I jogged a little to get my blood going. Burbank was quiet, just the sound of the wind in the big, mature trees that lined Fairview Street, a distant freight train whistle, a car zooming down Verdugo. My breath was louder than any of them. A dog barked at me and startled me as I turned onto Verdugo, streetlit and wide and empty, too.

Two minutes later, I was at Burroughs, using my student app to buzz myself into the school’s gate, then the side entrance, then the utility stairs, and then I jogged up the stairs. I was only supposed to get paged if the solar array had an error it couldn’t diagnose for itself, and that the manufacturer’s techs couldn’t diagnose from its camera feeds and other telemetry. Basically, never. Not at 2:00 a.m. 2:17 a.m. now. I wondered what the hell it could be. I opened the roof access door just in time to hear a glassy crashing sound, like a window breaking, and I froze.

Someone was on the roof with me. A person, glimpsed in the corner of my eye and then lost in the darkness. Too big to be a raccoon. A person. On the roof.

“Hello?” Gramps’s friends sometimes made fun of my voice. I’d hated how high-­pitched it was when I was a freshman and had dreamed of it getting deeper someday, but now I was a senior, weeks away from graduation, and I still got mistaken for a girl on gamer voice-­chats. I’d made my peace with it, except that I hadn’t entirely because I was not happy at all with how it squeaked out over that roof. “Hello?” I tried for deeper. “Someone there?” No one answered, so I took a step out onto the roof. Glass crunched under my feet. It was dark and it stayed dark when I slapped at the work-­lights switch next to the door—­they should have been tripped by the motion anyway. I found my flashlight and twisted it to wide beam and checked my feet. Smashed glass, all right, and when I swung the light around to the nearest solar bank, I saw that each panel had been methodically shattered. I took a step back toward the door, and the light beam swung up and caught the man.

He was wearing a head-­to-­toe suit—­a ghillie suit, Gramps’s friends called them—­and holding a short four-­pound sledgehammer with a handle and head painted in nonreflective black that swallowed my light beam. He was coming toward me. I reflexively hit the bodycam 911 emergency switch on my screen and it sounded its “Warning, bodycam recording” alert in a warm woman’s voice that I’d chosen for its nonthreatening tone. Mostly I bodycammed when I was having an argument with someone and the calm voice was a good balance between cooling things out and satisfying California’s two-­party consent rules for recording.

As he raised the hammer, I wished that I’d chosen the cop voice instead.

“Wait,” I said, taking a step back. The roof access door had closed behind me. “Please.”

“Shit,” the man said. He was using a voice-­shifter, either a separate unit or part of the ghillie suit. His voice was deep as a diesel engine. “Dammit, you’re just a kid.” He used the hand that wasn’t holding the hammer to flip up his nightscope goggles and peer at me. His eyes, visible in the ghillie suit’s slit, were bloodshot and wrinkled and blue. He squinted at my light and brandished the hammer. “Shit,” he said again. “Get that out of my eyes, dammit.”

“Sorry,” I squeaked, and lowered the beam, casting it around.

It seemed like 80 percent of the panels were ruined. Why had I said sorry? Force of habit. “Shit.” If he could say it, I could too.

“Shit. What the hell are you doing, man?”

“You’re recording this, kid?”

“Yes. Livestreaming.”

“Good, then I’ll explain. You just stay there and we won’t have a problem. I was gonna have to make a video when this was done, you’re just saving me the trouble.” He lowered the hammer and let it dangle. I thought about rushing him, but I’m not a fighter, and he was still holding the hammer. Same for turning and trying to get out the door before he could catch up with me.

“Kay, listen up. This world we’re in, it’s debased. America’s been rotted from the inside. First it was immigrants. You might think I’m a racist, but I’m not. It’s not immigrants I object to. It’s illegals. You want to come to America, you come in the front door, on the terms your gracious hosts here are offering. You don’t skip the line or break in through the window. That’s what a criminal does. You let in a criminal, let ’em become citizens, soon enough they’re voting for other criminals.

“You know just what I’m talking about, don’t kid yourself. The money we’re spending now? This Green New Deal? This Jobs Guarantee? These fuckin’ solar panels? Bill’s gonna come due on this. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Chinese hoaxed us into believing in this climate garbage, then they got us to go into hock to them up to our eyeballs to buy their shiny crap, and then they’re gonna charge us interest, and our kids, and their kids, and their kids. Mortgaging their future? Shit, what future? They’re headed for debt bondage for eternity. Biblical. It’s Biblical.

“All this mumbo jumbo about ‘money users’ and ‘money creators’—­it’s just word games. There’s two kinds of people in this world, and it’s not ‘money users’ and ‘money creators’—­it’s ‘makers’ and ‘takers.’ The makers create all the wealth, the takers elect politicians who confiscate it and redistribute it.” “Redistribute” came out like another f-­bomb.

This was crazy, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. I’d heard versions of this conversation around Gramps’s place ever since I came to live with him, back when I was eight. More, I’d heard these specific words before. I pressed my recollections, tried to put a face to the words. All the faces in Gramps’s living room had a sameness, a whiteness, matching haircuts and the same Maga hats, faded and frayed. Who had said those words? I could bring the face to mind now, the rest of the face that went with those blue watery eyes peering out of the ghillie suit.

Now, the name. Mark. Not Mark. Mike. Mike! Mike, uh.

“Mike Kennedy?”

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/06/green-new-deal-fic/#the-first-generation-in-a-century-not-to-fear-the-future

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

[samuraisharkie]

that virtualtoybox person literally told me they aren’t reading what I said and then tried to talk to me w about as much in their tags lol. i never understand people that go ‘I’m not reading all of that but you should read what I have to say” bc like. imagine how infuriated ur gonna get when that response is leveled right back at you? and judging by their tags they didn’t read past my very first line. bc they started comparing animals and animal rights to eugenics which is EXACTLY what I was saying is extremely dangerous to do. That’s exactly how people start calling things that happen to animals a ‘Holocaust’ and I’m positive such a statement is made in that book they told me to read. I’m disabled too. I know what I’m talking fucking about too. In the animal section, I for SURE know more than you do! Because if you knew and truly cared about animals and their welfare, you wouldn’t be talking like PETA. Here’s a trick to other disability activists: learn about animal welfare by volunteering on farms and educating yourself on breeders and the industry rather than getting involved in PETA! And another critical trick: NEVER compare animals to people! That’s exactly what the freaks that think any living thing with a deformity that should die are doing. These people would clutch their pearls the moment they hear farms cull undesirable animals bc they can’t afford to keep every single one and have to streamline their breeding and raising to what will help keep the farm running. That doesn’t mean these farmers want to do the same to people, because the animal is NOT a person and doesn’t live like one. Our lives are not even remotely comparable! People like OP are the people that keep a wild bird with an amputated wing alive bc in their mind it would be insinuating all amputees should die if the bird is put down, and next thing the bird is on the Dodo as inspiration porn. Duex Face is an exception to two headed animals, not the rule. Don’t tell me to do my research when you’re spouting talking points from people that have caused more problems for animals as a whole second only to the commercialization of animal industry. Maybe you need some research (field research) instead! They’re going to block me and I’m assuming that’s why I can’t rb the post anymore even if I wanted to (like I said I didn’t want to start a fight so like. I’m not going to be yelling and acting like an asshole. I swore a bit in the tags initially bc I feel very strongly about how animal rights activists have fucked up disability activism by acting like there’s equivalency in our existences, but that’s not targeted. Most was going to respond telling them that if they feel this strongly they need to be reading more about the animal industry rather than relying on people that are in no way experts on animals talking as an authority on them, and using that to tie with their human rights activism as if animals rights and humans rights are even remotely the same in any way. Whatever though at least the tags are there if anyone who cares enough actually reads them and thinks about them. Will most likely just attract militant vegans and ARAs like the op but whatever)

[an-aura-about-you]

am I really gonna move on with another chapter of Handbook for Mortals right now?

why yes, yes I am. because I know what comes next in this chapter, too, and I have no idea what this recap is gonna look like.

Chapter 15:

when we last left our hero, Scheherazade's relationship is on the rocks due to a make out with tongue misunderstanding that she decided not to clear up the easiest way possible and now Mac has left the show.

Chapter 15: The Tower

-the card chosen for the chapter title is actually relevant for once.

-staying true to the rest of the book so far, we skip over the entire show and go straight to the finale. we're finally gonna see a magic trick Zade performs for her job besides the high dive trick she auditioned with.

-Zade has decided to use "complex deep chaos-based magick" for this trick, which is dangerous because it can backfire if not done correctly. she does this because..... why does she do this?

once again all of Zeb's concern is 100% warranted.

-Zade has never done anything this hard or complex before, which means now is clearly a great time to start.

-Sofia got her singing job. good for her. glad to see she's living the dream. <3

-we've already started on the Incredibly Dangerous Illusion and Zade's mind is wandering to Mac. good start!

-she is, for some reason, conflicted about what she should say to Mac about who Charles is to her.

-ok so we've got the first bit of what this illusion does: generates a storm indoors. okay. neat.

-Zade reminds us twice in two back to back paragraphs that the power she's messing with is both strong and volatile AND that she hasn't quite mastered it yet. again, solid plan here. can't see how it might go wrong. definitely something you should do for Knockoff David Daddy Copperfield.

-"...it can all go to H-E-double-hockey-sticks real quick."

this book is supposedly not a YA book.

-Charles has been narrating her illusion, and she says he's a gifted storyteller like all magicians should be, but the whole purpose of magician patter is misdirection! something Charles doesn't need to provide in an illusion using Real Fucking Magic.

-next part of the illusion: the storm makes a wave crash over Zade, causing her to disappear.

-next part: rain from the storm turns to sand as it hits the stage and piles up only to be struck by lightning, leaving a glass sculpture of Zade. I feel like I'm watching a knockoff Salvador Dali painting come to life.

-we get a warning that Zade is Not Feeling So Great at this stage of the illusion.

-next part: another lighting strike, this one producing a rapidly growing apple tree complete with full grown man that falls out of it.

-"I could actually feel the wonder in the audience." really? because I kinda feel the way I would had someone put on a tame knockoff of a Lynch movie at a planetarium. I would think it's a nice visual thing with some obvious human parts working in it, but my own guess as an audience member would be this was some kind of shadowcast projection thing. all of it is impossible to such a degree that no sleight of hand is feasible for it. so without the explanation that it's all Real Actual Magic, the obvious fill in is this is some really good special effects and Zade actually isn't doing anything except acting against a projection. kinda like the Liam Neeson stuff in Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of The War of the Worlds.

she is, by all appearances, doing less than an actual magician's assistant would since I learned from the Breaking the Magician's Code specials that a lot of magic tricks rely on the skills of a well trained assistant or assistants.

-they throw some apples from the apple tree as a proof that it's real, which is the first thing that could possibly have a sleight of hand counterpart and thus is the first thing I as an audience member would consider a magic trick in all this.

-also are we sure chaos-magick apples are safe to eat?

-let's see, the man chops the apple tree down, wood chips fly into the audience. again, I would consider this bit a possible trick, but all of it feels like I'm just in some kind of interactive show? you know like the ones where you're like on the river rapids and it sprays water on you? this just doesn't feel like a magic trick overall, it feels like watching a short story.

-"If anyone had doubted it was a real tree they would have had to believe it at this point." no they wouldn't because it's not difficult to project the image of a falling tree, make the sound of a tree crashing into a stage, and throwing wood chips into the audience. also, why would you WANT them to think it's a real tree when you are trying to keep your magic SECRET?

-tree catches fire somehow (it is not specified as an explosion, but even then I don't know if any apple trees are also explody trees?) and a wind blows the sand up, blocking this from view.

-sand settles, fire and tree are gone, replaced by a wardrobe. the man opens the wardrobe to show it's empty, closes it, opens it again to take out a guitar and start playing. again, all things that are simple to do with projection and a sound system.

-he also puts the glass sculpture of Zade in the wardrobe

-Zade is feeling even worse and tells us she has to hold it together for just a bit longer because the illusion is almost done. good.

-wardrobe is struck by lightning, splits in two, and Zade is revealed. she then pulls an apple from her pocket, takes a bite, and faints. the man catches her, kisses her, and she wakes up. she gives him a bite of the apple, he disappears. so the man appearing and disappearing could be an illusion. that makes like 2-3 disappearing/reappearing tricks all in one with a whole bunch of special effects around them that I don't care about.

you know what's more impressive to me? the simple illusions. in fact, one of the ones that still gets me every time I see it is how the Phantom disappears at the end of The Phantom of the Opera as performed at the Royal Albert Hall. it's a simple but effective execution and stands out even more since it's not a magic show but a musical.

but this, this is SUPPOSED to be a magic show! there should be a LOT of magic! and it can be impressive to see multiple displays of the same kind of trick, especially with a specialist in it, but the thing about disappearing/reappearing act is it's the same visuals over and over again! idk maybe that's my bias since I tend to not care as much for disappearing acts, but I literally just cited a disappearing illusion as a favorite!

here, let's look at a simpler display I find more impressive than whatever the fuck Zade is doing with chaos magick. this is Francis Tabary, a magician who specializes in rope illusions:

I first saw a variation of this routine in the mid-90s on The World's Greatest Magic and I still enjoy seeing it. every single trick is just done with a rope, but it is visually varied and interesting. I get the feeling I could be sitting less than three feet away from him and I still wouldn't be able to fully see how he does it.

(also I love when he has to do his patter in English because he says, "I hope you will understand what I say and not what I do.")

-that was a nice detour and now I'm gonna go back to the book.

-Charles puts the cloak on Zade, who feels like she's dying inside. Me Too, Girl.

-lightning strikes Zade and she disappears. apparently with the magic going wrong she actually felt the lighting. why would you subject yourself to this when you didn't have to? literally you didn't have to. there was no reason to do a trick like this. why did you build the trick like this?

-Charles then picks up an apple, takes a bite, and disappears. that's it, the trick is finally over after 10 pages of description. this is the thing Zade has been working on with Charles that merited a big red carpet premiere. I want my $2 for the children's admission ticket for the planetarium field trip back.

-pfffff piece of shit dad out there taking his bows not even noticing that Zade's not out there to bow with him because she's suffering from magic internal bleeding.

-also, damn, gotta say Cam's doing a good job running this show on the fly. not one missed cue! that we know about, anyway. let's be real, that does seem like even odds on this being either a detail Sarem would ignore completely or would spend a solid 2/5ths of the chapter going over.

-the cat is sitting on the book again. also me, he is sitting on me.

-Zade manages to collapse in Zeb's arms, which wouldn't have been her first choice because she'd much rather do that with Jackson. but Zeb is like one of the few people who's gonna know what's going on! this is like the ideal situation once shit's fucked!

-Zade tells the gang backstage to call her mother before things go black.

then we get this:

That's the last thing I personally remembered from that day. Later, after I'd had some time to rest, I pulled out the memories of what everyone else saw and what happened.

so good news, we know Zade is gonna be perfectly fine! no need to worry about pesky things like tension!

-apparently fucking the magic up enough has left Zade in a state where she's practically choking on her own blood.

-Mac came back in time for all this btw. and instead of anyone trying to put Zade down in the recovery position (which idk if that's even appropriate for this but that seems moot since magic malady) or listen to the 911 dispatcher that Tad had Riley call, they just let Mac take over holding Zade.

-oh my god, even with all this going on, Zade notices in the memories that Zeb looks somewhat upset and thinks, "Maybe he didn't hate me after all." priorities.

-Charles says he's going with Mac to the hospital, and Mac is burned by this but at least has the good sense not to argue right now.

-omg Zade has to tell us the memories are painful to see because all of the people who love her are hurting soooooo much to see her suffering~

-Mac has enough of himself put together to be pissed at having to drive Charles and Charles is too upset to notice.

-Zade is actually getting care from a doctor that is implied to be the head doctor of the hospital. nothing but the finest for our mary sue.

-oh boy here we fucking go guys: the doctor asks for a member of the family since Zade is unconscious and can't consent. after being pressed, Charles reveals that he's Zade's father.

was it worth it?

-Mac then says he saw Charles and Zade kiss, which clearly grosses Charles out. also a lie since remember he couldn't bare [sic] to watch Zade and Spellman kiss.

-I don't know why Mac needs to talk about this now when the doctor obviously needs somebody to give the go-ahead on something. which also doesn't make sense to me because it seems like they could still do something to at least stabilize Zade, but maybe they're at that point and it's just not specified.

-omg Mac asks Charles if Zade knew this and he said yes. the book is right here confirming that Zade has known that Charles is her father. 0 excuses for any of the bullshit she's been pulling.

-apparently Zade found out recently, but by "recently" we mean "since basically the start of the book and that's when she came to work for him," which still means "the whole time," for our purposes.

ok to be fair it is not made clear if she knew before or after she actually got the job. it's possible this reveal happened during the conversation we were not made privy to in chapter 2. but it's ambiguous enough that it's possible Zade has known since chapter 0.

-Mac rethinks everything and considers how it makes sense now, but I still thing Zade's behavior has incestuous tones, like how she tried to reassure Mac about Spellman taking her to dinner with, "A girl's gotta eat." Zade obfuscated everything in the worst possible way when she could have used other tactics.

-also as far as why Charles hasn't said anything until now, he said he was abiding by Dela's wish to keep it secret. it is not made clear if this is some kind of binding magic taboo or not. it's certainly implied to be, but so far we haven't been made aware of the terms of this taboo. which seems pretty important since not only has he just broken it by telling the doctor, it seems possible that he ALSO broke it by telling Zade!

this also puts chapter 0 in a different light if the catalyst for Zade leaving home was finding out Spellman is her father, which would actually make sense. but again, if that's the case, then that means Zade knew the entire time and has been emotionally tormenting Mac for no good reason.

-I Would Like It If This Book Stopped Talking About The Concept Of Zade And Her Dad Making Out.

-Charles then tells Mac that Zade kissed him on the cheek, making the make out with tongue paragraph from the last chapter even worse since we were just gonna see the same thing in THIS chapter!

-Mac said Zade wasn't lying, but she was!! it's called lying by omission! she was intentionally leaving important information out!

That!

Is!

Lying!!!!!!

-oh hey Lambo Girl is here! she's here just to be seen for some reason. who knows why.

-the doctor makes an offhand mention of Dr. House and the book grinds to a halt for a full page to explain who House is because Charles didn't get the reference.

-man, it's so sad seeing Zade in her ICU hospital bed all covered in IV lines and tubes knowing full well she's gonna be perfectly fine by the end of the book.

-Dela calls Charles right after they all get settled in the room. damn, this is what you're using your magic for?

-Dela knows what's wrong. Charles suggests she come to Las Vegas. Dela insists they have to bring Zade to Tennessee. WHY? doesn't this sound like the more dangerous thing to do?

-Dela's explanation is that she needs her tools and her altar. I'm calling bullshit. you can bring your tools and build an altar where you need to. even if it needs like a special altar, you don't think you can find one in Vegas? we already know there are other people who know magic here; if it's like a church thing where it doesn't have to be an altar you build yourself, why not use one there? and if it has to be one you made, why not make one? this just sounds like putting your daughter through needless risk.

-"She could die. Couldn't she?" but she won't because she's telling the story.

-Dela is laying out tarot cards during this conversation. "She examined the cards carefully as if she were deciphering a code. That's kind of how reading cards goes." the narration says that like it hasn't shown us Zade doing the most incompetent card reading I have ever seen.

-why is Zade giving us a tarot card lesson while recounting her near-death experience?

-"Only sometimes can you change your destiny but that is hard and is a subject for another time and a later book." are you seriously giving me your discount knockoff May Those Who Accept Their Fate Be Granted Happiness, May Those Who Defy Their Fate Be Granted Glory speech, Miss "The Cards Haven't Told Me Which Boy I Should Marry"? not to mention a Michael Ende-esque hint to tantalize at another book.

-we get a full paragraph to explain the waxing and waning moon. not just the significance of those times in witchcraft, which even that's dumbed down, but what waxing and waning themselves mean.

you've literally covered this book with the triple moon symbol.

also Dela mentions the moon is waning. this could have been the opening to give the context that would explain it without having to go all baby dictionary on us, like saying the spell will have to be done on the night of the new moon.

-I'm glad the doctor likewise thinks letting Zade fly to Tennessee in her condition is nutso bananas.

-oof, the doctor's gonna make Charles sign a release that he understands that Zade is now his responsibility and that this may kill her. his priority, according to the narration, is avoiding a lawsuit. good god, does ANYONE in this book have even a shred of compassion? possibly not considering Sarem's callousness.

and the chapter ends with Charles telling Mac the two of them need to take Zade to Tennessee and reaffirming everything we had just learned from Dela.

just to rephrase this, the chapter ends with our big strong powerful honest to goodness magic using not like other girls protagonist at death's door for reasons that are pretty much her fault and needing to be rescued by her mother, her father, and the guy she's been kissing but they have not defined their relationship and parted on bad terms when they last saw each other and also she's been lying by omission to him. I think that covers everything.

[claire-starsword]

Authentic Story of the Shining Force - Saint Fencer Max - Chapter 3

Translation notes:

So, uh. Elliot's name is rendered with two t's in the og game, but a single one in the GBA version. I had never paid attention to that at all until I had already edited all these pages, and I don't care enough to change it.

Cain's sword causes an explosion here. In the game, it is indeed capable of summoning flames.

This is a perfect illustration of how I feel about these names, but I do wonder what the actual intention was, since Cain is supposed to be already gone. The original image is even cut off weirdly in the middle of the text, and i don't think it's a problem with the scan, since every scanned page has a black border showing that the paper itself doesn't cut there. I wonder about the production of this thing, but i'll wait until i translate the author's comments before saying more.

The map in the previous chapter was very accurate to the beta map of the game. The smaller map here showing Rindo however looks off, the coast is different, and there seems to be a river directly to the north of Rindo, as opposed to the path to Shade Abbey. Perhaps fitting since Shade is skipped here.

Metaphaluna, huh? Needlessly to say, the country of the gods/Ancients is called only Metapha in the final game. Also, in this panel, it pops up as an alternate reading for 前世紀 (ancient times), not the name of a country specifically. I chose to romanize the last part as "luna" for three reasons. One is that the continent of Rune is actually rendered as Lune in at least two guides. I take romanizations from JP guides with a grain of salt since they sometimes look bad/unnatural, or are inconsistent (Pelle's name for example has been romanized as both Peil or Payle depending on the book). I checked though, and town names however are consistent in both the books I've seen romanizing things. The second reason is that the beta map used at this point has a fairly noticeable crescent moon shaped island right in the middle. In the final game, we can't know exactly where Metapha is, because you only teleport there. But I wonder if this island had something to do with it at some point. The third reason is simply I saw no better reason. Metaphalna and Metapharuna would be just as valid, but don't have any meaning to them.

The biggest equation next to Tao as she explains the magic types is very clearly a E=mc². Look close.

I've retranslated Elliot's scenes from the game thinking it would be relevant to these notes. Now I feel it really isn't, but you get more content so you should be happy.

My main point with that is that Elliot does not say anything about Cain in the game. In the GBA version, Balbazak does try revealing Max, Cain and Darksol's identities before dying, but that's not a thing in the og. So yeah I really translated a bunch of stuff for nothing this time! Except not because Darksol is awesome in that scene and everyone should get to see it.

Now let's talk about Otrant. I have mentioned before that Otrant's gender is never explicitly said, and they speak in a mostly gender neutral way (I feel like there's a few masculine patterns in some lines, but I'm not confident enough to say for certain). What I hadn't noticed is that they also use lipstick in the games, which is probably what sparked these observations to begin with, but i'm uh, occasionally not smart. In any case, if any of these aspects were done at this point in development the artist here sure ignored them, and drew a regular old man who gets called an old man. They hate to see an androgynous boss winning.

I don't recall Otrant's third eye being called "Eye of Truth" anywhere else, but the manual of the game does say it can see the past and the future.

Otrant's naming of the Shining Force is a bit more elaborate here, but the wording is very similar to the actual game.

Finally, let's play spot the cameo!

We've got Gong, Zylo, one of the birds, and probably Anri. Easy.

Here, besides the obvious three who were actually introduced in the story, we again have a bird, Anri between Ken and Hans, Gong to the right, and Mae and Gort behind Luke. If you read the pre-release page you know that Gort was meant to be Mae's servant at some point, so this might be why they're together, or it's just coincidence because they still join around the same time in the final game. More importantly, to Ken's left we have...

Some guys. Who are these. They could be made up by the artist (there will be another case of this), but I find it curious that the artist had to do that when there are so many character to pick from, and he clearly wanted to depict official characters here. For one, there's evidence that Earnest was already designed at that point in development. However, that link also shows that Vankar didn't have a portrait by that time at least, and Vankar would have already joined by this point in the story. So could the bald centaur here be a beta Vankar, or the artist's interpretation of Vankar via unfinished art? Maybe, but just a guess in the end. Mostly I'm just fascinated by how detailed this guy is compared to even Mae and Gort's cameos. The other guy isn't so i don't think about them nearly as much.

[dotster001]

hello! congratulations for 1.5k followers! 🎉🎈❤️ it's amazing to see how far you've come, this is a huge milestone! you're a really wonderful writer and i thank you for all content you've wrote!! i hope the best for you and your blog, congrats once again! if it's alright though, may i ask for a type one, romantic matchup for Ensemble Stars? you're free though to ignore this if you want, no pressure whatsoever!

my pronouns are she/her and my sexuality is straight. (although i am currently questioning if i'm demisexual) also, my mbti is infj and zodiac sign is cancer. personality wise, i'm quite reserved and shy. i struggle with social situations, so i tend to mostly be quiet. but when i do interact with people, i'm usually polite and helpful. however, i'm really private, so it takes a while for me to open up. but once i do, i'm more playful, bubbly, snarky. i'll dote on my friends, but i'll also tease them when i'm in the mood.

my strengths are empathy, kindness, and diligence. my friends and family say it's easier for me to absorb emotions, which i use to give comfort and advice to others. they also say i'm hardworking, since i push myself to do my best in my work. but my weaknesses are overthinking, perfectionism, and a bit of a pushover. i have a bad habit of overanalyzing things, along with being a huge perfectionist. i also i find it hard to stand up for myself as i don't like conflict, so it sometimes ends up with me martyring.

my hobbies are reading, playing games, listening to music, and writing. and for my interests, it's musicals, visual novels, books, fandoms, and a little bit of psychology.

i'm really sorry if this was really long, please excuse me. but thank you and congratulations once again! take care and stay safe <3

Event Closed

(okay, since the event was so long ago, what I'm gonna do when I post a matchup is wait twenty four hours before I post anything else (including asks and theories) so that esp the anons see them hopefully. Again, thank you all for your patience, you have no idea how grateful I am 💙)

I match you with Adonis Otogari.

First off, I feel like your shyness would go well with his less communicative nature. In other words, he's not going to push you to open up with himself and others until you are really ready. He wants you to feel safe and secure. That's his highest priority! That said, when you do get comfortable, he really enjoys watching your bubbly, playful, expressive self.

Speaking of protecting you, he's big on making sure you don't become a pushover, especially in situations where he knows you won't be happy. He's always ready to protect others, but with you the drive is so much stronger!!! He'll speak up for you when you won't, and will also push you to take care of yourself! One time you forgot to eat, and he handed you a plate full of barbeque chicken.

You two have such a soft romance, cause he's a soft guy. Quietly sitting next to eachother doing your own things, but holding each other's hands, him resting standing behind you and resting his head on top of yours, making eachother lunches, and leaving each other notes in said lunches. Ah! So sweet!

You like musicals? He likes to perform for those he loves! He'll serenade you for hours with your favorite theatre love songs. All you have to do is ask, and his dulcit tones are all yours. He's nicknamed you his "angel of music"…swoon!

Adonis had been rehearsing for hours with the other members of Undead. Because of Rei's late night schedules, he was pretty sure everyone was asleep except for Undead. But he was getting thirsty and had run out of his water hours ago.

The door opened to the practice room, the white light of the hallway flooding into the room, and you entered, holding a water bottle.

"Hey love," you said, "I figured you'd be out of water by now. Also, I brought you a bagged dinner!"

You handed both of them to him, and he couldn't help the warm smile on his face. He gave you a soft, warm hug.

"You should be asleep, angel," he said.

"Couldn't sleep without you," you said with a pout.

"Well, if you promise to go to bed right after, you can stay."

You vigorously nodded, seating yourself in a corner.

It was another two hours before he finished, and when he looked over at you, you had fallen asleep. The other members of Undead grinned when he scooped you up and carried you off to bed.

He tucked you in, pressed a kiss to your temple, and snuggled in next to you. You were so good for him, angel. Then again, you were so good for eachother.

[semper-legens]

155. Y: The Last Man, book one, by Brian K. Vaughan and Pia Guerra

Owned: No, library Page count: 246 My summary: One day, for no reason anyone could divine, all of the men on Earth died at once. Everyone with a Y chromosome fell prey to this sweeping arm of death - except two. Yorick, and his pet monkey. Now the world is in ruins, but all Yorick wants is to find his girlfriend who is half the world away. But everyone else wants him dead... My rating: 2/5 My commentary:

I had heard good things about this comic, despite its premise being a bit wonky, and I come away ridiculously disappointed by it. I’m sorry, this story was just not interesting. The assumptions that it makes about gender, the criticisms it makes towards feminism, the blandness of the main character...I didn’t see much in it to like, and I am definitely not going to be reading the rest.

My main beef with the story is the Amazons, a feminist group that appears after the men die for...some reason. They’re crazy! They burn sperm banks, believe all men are evil and should be killed (despite that having, you know, happened as far as they know), and burn off a breast to make archery easier for...some reason. They’re hateful and villainous and, like, this isn’t what a lot of feminism is. Oh sure, radfems are like this in real life, but this is less a nuanced criticism of radical feminist thought and more LOOK AT ALL THOSE MAN-HATIN’ FEMINISTS, THEY SURE ARE EVIL, you know what I mean? I really question why a group like this would appear after all the men are dead.

Secondarily, the assumptions this book makes about gender are...questionable? I don’t doubt that the stats it quotes about which professions have now lost a lot of their personnel are accurate to 2002, when this first released, but just because 99% of all electricians, say, are dead, doesn’t mean that nobody with those skills survived. You can know how to do a thing and not be a professional in that field. Where are all the car-fixin’ butch lesbians? And would all the men dying necessarily cause an apocalyptic scenario like this? It’s not like, historically, in scenarios without men, women haven’t just. Got on with things. Like in the world wars, or in towns where all the men were killed in mines or at sea.

You notice how I’ve gotten this far without talking about the main character? That’s because Yorick is boring as fuck. He’s just a generic straight white guy. Everyone else wants to bone and/or murder him (in a gender-swapped version of this, girl!Yorick would almost certainly be immediately enslaved for breeding, but guy!Yorick gets to wander around and be free through the power of manliness) but all he wants is to find his boring girlfriend and be boring together. There are so many characters in this sort of world I would want to follow, and the narrative is not interested in any of them.

And, I’m sorry, this book’s treatment of trans people is disgusting. Not only have all trans women and transfeminine people been murdered out of hand by this mysterious plague that only affects people with a Y chromosome (chromosomes are not that simple, but I digress), but the one time the series acknowledges trans men is by a character mentioning a boyfriend, then to say that ‘she’ was a ‘tr*nny’ who was murdered by the Amazons despite not being a ‘real’ guy. I don’t think I need to say why this is horrible.

Next up, something far better - history, and a cautionary tale about getting trapped in the Antarctic ice.