#schwab said so

[antaripirate]

concept: the night spire makes a detour to stop in london for a few days. after dinner with rhy and alucard, kell and lila collapse into bed together, exhausted from the long journey, falling asleep wrapped up in each others’ arms. at some point during the night, esa sneaks her way into the room (probably via the secret corridor between kell and rhy’s rooms), joining the two sleeping antari currently bundled up in the blankets together. the two wake with the sunrise (a habit they both picked up from their time at sea). when lila opens her eyes, head still nuzzled into kells neck, she’s confused (and let’s be honest, somewhat irritated), at the sight of the fluffy white ball curled up on kell’s chest. kell on the other hand, is thrilled with the addition, perfectly content to cuddle them both. this is how lila discovers kell’s love for cats.

[shrews-art]

Pain reminds us that we are alive or something I guess

[specteroflight]

Been reading a lot lately, one of my favorite series currently is the villains duology (soon to be trilogy) by V.E. Schwab. I'm excited for the 3rd book... Currently picking up The Secret History by Donna Tartt and I'm loving it so far too and want to draw fanart soon 😳

[thereadingmoon]

so i’ve read yellowface and babel now and realized rf kuang isn’t for me even if i would’ve loved the opposite to be true. i love the high concepts of her stories but on a stylistic level, they’re very tell not show, especially babel. i’d hoped that quality was in yellowface due to it being a novella, but it’s kind of sad something as expansive like babel had that quality as well. i’ve seen people describe her writing as if she doesn’t trust her readers to connect the dots, and i agree with that. for example, when talking about a word that could be read as a homonym in chinese and english, the impact of that realization felt spoilt when she explained the pun to the reader in the same page.

her works are also definitely targeted for another demographic of reader and that’s alright. to me, they’re a racism 101 for white readers or readers with a background within the hegemony or for readers who grew up where being (east) asian is a minority. it’s also how i felt about kim ji-young: i recognize the importance of the book’s existence, but i accept that it wasn’t made for me.

yan lang

[typingwithmyhandstied]

The dramatic irony of the reader knowing that Holland is alive/what's going on in White London but the characters not is getting to me in A Gathering of Shadows. I WANT TO SCREAM SOME CAUTIONS AT THEM.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kickstarting the audiobook of The Lost Cause, my novel of environmental hope

Tonight (October 2), I'm in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab. On October 7–8, I'm in Milan to keynote Wired Nextfest.

The Lost Cause is my next novel. It's about the climate emergency. It's hopeful. Library Journal called it "a message hope in a near-future that looks increasingly bleak." As with every other one of my books Amazon refuses to sell the audiobook, so I made my own, and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/the-lost-cause-a-novel-of-climate-and-hope

That's a lot to unpack, I know. So many questions! Including this one: "How is it that I have another book out in 2023?" Because this is my third book this year. Short answer: I write when I'm anxious, so I came out of lockdown with nine books. Nine!

Hope and writing are closely related activities. Hope (the belief that you can make things better) is nothing so cheap and fatalistic as optimism (the belief that things will improve no matter what you do). The Lost Cause is full of people who are full of hope.

The action begins a full generation after the Hail Mary passage of the Green New Deal, and the people who grew up fighting the climate emergency (rather than sitting hopelessly by while the powers that be insisted that nothing could or should be done) have a name for themselves: they call themselves "the first generation in a century that doesn't fear the future."

I fear the future. Unchecked corporate power has us barreling over a cliff's edge and all the one-percent has to say is, "Well, it's too late to swerve now, what if the bus rolls and someone breaks a leg? Don't worry, we'll just keep speeding up and leap the gorge":

https://locusmag.com/2022/07/cory-doctorow-the-swerve/

That unchecked corporate power has no better avatar than Amazon, one of the tech monopolies that has converted the old, good internet into "five giant websites, each filled with screenshots of the other four":

https://twitter.com/tveastman/status/1069674780826071040

Amazon maintains a near-total grip over print and ebooks, but when it comes to audiobooks, that control is total. The company's Audible division has captured more than 90% of the market, and it abuses that dominance to cram Digital Rights Management onto every book it sells, even if the author doesn't want it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

I wrote a whole-ass book about this and it came out less than a month ago; it's called The Internet Con and it lays out an audacious plan to halt the internet's enshittification and throw it into reverse:

http://www.seizethemeansofcomputation.org/

The tldr is this: when an audiobook is wrapped in Amazon's DRM, only Amazon can legally remove it. That means that every book I sell you on Audible is a book you have to throw away if you ever break up with Amazon, and Amazon can use the fact that it's hold you hostage to screw me – and every other author – over.

As I said last time this came up:

Fuck that sideways.

With a brick.

My books are sold without DRM, so you can play them in any app and do anything copyright permits, and that means Amazon won't carry them, and that means my publishers don't want to pay to produce them, and that means I produce them myself, and then I make the (significant) costs back by selling them on Kickstarter.

And you know what? It works. Readers don't want DRM. I mean, duh. No one woke up this morning and said, "Dammit, why won't someone sell me a product that lets me do less with my books?" I sell boatloads" of books through these crowdfunding campaigns. I sold so many copies of my last book, *The Internet Con, that they sold out the initial print run in two weeks (don't worry, they held back stock for my upcoming events).

But beyond that, I think there's another reason my readers keep coming back, even though I wrote a genuinely stupid number of books while working through lockdown anxiety while the wildfires raged and ashes sifted down out of the sky and settled on my laptop as I lay in my backyard hammock, pounding my keyboard.

(I went through two keyboards during lockdown. Thankfully, I bought a user-serviceable laptop from Framework and fixed it myself both times, in a matter of minutes. No, no one pays me to mention this, but hot damn is it cool.)

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/13/graceful-failure/#frame

The reason readers come back to my books is that they're full of hope. In the same way that writing lets me feel like I'm not a passenger in life, but rather, someone with a say in my destination, the books that I write are full of practical ways and dramatic scenes in which other people seize the means of computation, the reins of power or their own destinies.

The protagonist of The Lost Cause is Brooks Palazzo, a high-school senior in Burbank whose parents were part of the original cohort of volunteers who kicked off the global transformation, and left him an orphan when they succumbed to one of the zoonotic plagues that arise every time another habitat is destroyed.

Brooks grew up knowing what his life would be: the work of repair and care, which millions of young people are doing. Relocating entire cities off endangered coastlines and floodplains, or out of fire-zones. Fighting floods and fires. Caring for tens of millions of refugees for whom the change came too late.

But with every revolution comes a counter-revolution. The losers of a just war don't dig holes, climb inside and pull the dirt down on top of themselves. Two groups of reactionaries – seagoing anarcho-capitalist billionaire wreckers and seething white nationalist militias – have formed an alliance.

They've already gotten their champion into the White House. Next up: dismantling every cause for hope Brooks and his friends have, and bringing back the fear.

That's the setup for a novel about solidarity, care, library socialism, and snatching victory from defeat's jaws. Writing it help keep me sane during the lockdown, and when it came time to record the audiobook, I spent a lot of time thinking about who could read it. I've had some great narrators: Wil Wheaton, @neil-gaiman, Amber Benson, Bronson Pinchot, and more.

I record my audiobooks with Skyboat Media, a brilliant studio near my place in LA. Back in August, I spent a week in their recording booth – "The Tardis" – doing something I'd never tried before: I recorded a whole audiobook, with directorial supervision: The Internet Con:

https://transactions.sendowl.com/products/78992826/DEA0CE12/purchase

When it was done, the director – audiobook legend Gabrielle de Cuir – sat me down and said, "Look, I've never said this to an author before, but I think you should read The Lost Cause. I don't direct anyone anymore except for Wil Wheaton and LeVar Burton, but I would direct you on this one."

I was immensely flattered – and very nervous. Reading The Internet Con was one thing – the book is built around the speeches I've been giving for 20 years and I knew I could sell those lines – but The Lost Cause is a novel, with a whole cast of characters. Could I do it?

Reader, I did it. I just listened to the proofs last week and:

It.

Came.

Out.

Great.

The Lost Cause goes on sale on November 14th, and I'll be selling this audiobook I made everywhere audiobooks are sold – except for the stores that require DRM, nonconsensually shackling readers and writers to their platforms. So you'll be able to get it on Libro.fm, downpour.com, even Google Play – but not Audible, Apple Books, or Audiobooks.com.

But in addition to those worthy retailers, I will be sending out thousands – and thousands! – of audiobook to my Kickstarter backers on the on-sale date, either as a folder of DRM-free MP3s, or as a download code for Libro.fm, to make things easy for people who don't want to have to figure out how to sideload an audiobook into a standalone app.

And, of course, the mobile duopoly have made this kind of sideloading exponentially harder over the past decade, though far be it from me to connect this with their policy of charging 30% commissions on everything sold through an app, a commission they don't receive if you get your files on the web and load 'em yourself:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/red-team-blues-another-audiobook-that-amazon-wont-sell/posts/3788112

As with my previous Kickstarters, I'm also selling ebooks and hardcovers – signed or unsigned, and this time I've found a great partner to fulfill EU orders from within the EU, so backers won't have to pay VAT and customs charges. The wonderful Otherland – who have hosted me on my last two trips to Berlin – are going to manage that shipping for me:

https://www.otherland-berlin.de/en/home.html

Kim Stanley Robinson read the book and said, "Along with the rush of adrenaline I felt a solid surge of hope. May it go like this." That's just about the perfect quote, because the book is a ride. It's not just a kumbaya tale of a better world that is possible: it's a post-cyberpunk novel of high-tech guerrilla and meme warfare, climate tech and bad climate tech, wildcat prefab urban infill, and far-right militamen who adapt to a ban on assault-rifles by switching to super-soakers full of hydrochloric acid.

It's a book about struggle, hope in the darkness, and a way through this rotten moment. It's a book that dares to imagine that things might get worse but also better. This is a curious emotional melange, but it's one that I'm increasingly feeling these days.

Like, Amazon, that giant bully, whose blockade on DRM-free audiobooks cost me enough money to pay off my mortgage and put my kid through university (according to my agent)? The incredible Lina Khan brought a long-overdue antitrust case against Amazon while her rockstar DoJ counterpart, Jonathan Kanter, is dragging Google through the courts.

The EU is taking on Apple, and French cops are kicking down Nvidia's doors and grabbing their files, looking to build another antitrust case for monopolizing GPUs. The writers won their strike and Joe Biden walked the picket-line with the UAW, the first president in history to join striking workers:

https://doctorow.medium.com/joe-biden-is-headed-to-a-uaw-picket-line-in-detroit-f80bd0b372ab?sk=f3abdfd3f26d2f615ad9d2f1839bcc07

Solar is now our cheapest energy source, which is wild, because if we could only capture 0.4% of the solar energy that makes it through the atmosphere, we could give everyone alive the same energy budget as Canadians (who have American lifestyles but higher heating bills). As Deb Chachra writes in her forthcoming How Infrastructure Works (my review pending): we get a fresh supply of energy every time the sun rises and we only get new materials when a comet survives atmospheric entry, but we treat energy as scarce and throw away our materials after a single use:

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/612711/how-infrastructure-works-by-deb-chachra/

Anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. We have shot past many of our planetary boundaries and there are waves of climate crises in our future, but they don't have to be climate disasters. That's up to us – it'll depend on whether we come together to save ourselves and each other, or tear ourselves apart.

The Lost Cause dares to imagine what it might be like if we do the former. We don't live in a post-enshittification world yet, but we could. With these indie audiobooks, I've found a way to treat the terminal enshittification of the Amazon monopoly as damage and route around it. I hope you'll back the Kickstarter, fight enshittification, inject some hope into your reading, and enjoy a kickass adventure novel in the process:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/the-lost-cause-a-novel-of-climate-and-hope

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/2023/10/02/the-lost-cause/#the-first-generation-that-doesnt-fear-the-future

[reality-detective]

Someone once said to me, “Do you always have to be so brutally honest?” to which I replied, “Would you rather I lied?” Which that kind of ended the conversation.

So I’ll be brutally honest with you now, I’m sick of it all!

I’m sick of Biden, Schwab, Gates, Fauci, Ursula, Trudeau, Macron, Hillary, Harari and all the psycho puppets that are being dangled on the world stage as some morbid entertainment, or rather psychological torture!

I’m sick of the LGBTQ narrative being shoved down our throats, of the transgender insanity, the ilegal immigrant invasion, the ongoing fearmongering with new pandemics, the constant threat of global war, the antisemitism narrative, the censorship, the ‘hate speech’ tyranny, the mRNA bioweapons and of the climate crisis bull shit!

I’m sick of humanity being stuck in this endless, nightmare of a loop without a resolution! Without justice! Without sense! I’m done with this shit show!

Always the same playbook, the same script, the same useful idiots, the same evil hands pulling the strings, the same narratives, the same psychological manipulation, the same false flags, the same lies from the media, the same ongoing madness! On and on and on and on…! Until when?!

When will people see? When will people realize that we are caught up in a matrix that exploits our ignorance and gullibility by capturing our perception as a means of control and enslavement? When will people recognise the patterns? The MO and the brainwashing techniques that they’ve been using for decades? When?

How many times must we endure the same narratives and events? The same divide and conquer strategies? The same color revolutions? The same infiltration techniques? The same provocations? The same ‘terrorist’ attacks?!

How many times before humanity finally realizes that we are psychological slaves with an almost fatal case of Stockholm syndrome? When will we acknowledge the problem? When will we start going to rehabilitation?

And no, you can’t say no! That response is not an option, unless we want to end up like that! So it’s about time we ALL try our best to wake up everyone! Speak up, share info, voice your real opinion, don’t be intimidated by the labels, be prepared to lose friends, stop caring what others may think and wage the flag of truth, of common sense, of righteousness and of kindness wherever you go.

Perhaps then we’ll get out of this sickening loop! It’s been going on long enough!

I'm just saying... 🤔

[stardustprompts]

vengeful  -  v.e. schwab  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying  tw :  death , violence , language , mental health

‘what a fucking cliche.’

‘envy really doesn’t suit you.’

‘don’t you turn that knife on me unless you plan to use it…’

‘you should have let it go.’

‘you can’t just do that to me!’

‘you’ve been gone for hours.’

‘you never said I had to play fair.’

‘that’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

‘you look like a narc.’

‘it feels like dying.’

‘people have an idea of pain. they think they know what it is, how it feels, but that’s just an idea. it’s a very different thing when it becomes concrete.’

‘I did this. I did this to you.’

‘I am alive because of you.’

‘you think I’m playing god? fine, you play, (name). you decide, right now, who should live. us, or them?’

‘it’s a big world. you’re not the only one with talents.’

‘isn’t it silly to lie when we both know the truth?’

‘I think sometimes you make the easiest choice instead of the right one.’

‘make me the villain of that night, (name). wash you hands of any blame.’

‘a promise you can’t keep is just another lie.’

‘I don’t want you to save me. I want to save myself.’

‘I warned you when we met, I wasn’t a good person.’

‘killing me won’t bring her back either.’

‘think hard. we all have to live with our choices.’

‘the next time you point a gun at someone, make sure you’re ready to pull the trigger.’

‘we survived. that's what makes us so powerful.’

‘blood is always family, but family doesn’t always have to be blood.’

‘not all family is blood, right? sometimes we have to find a new one. sometimes we get lucky, and they find us.’

‘this isn’t a stupid game. it’s my life.’

‘are you used to getting what you want?’

‘hasn’t it occurred to you that I can protect myself?’

‘in this world, in my world, people get hurt. they die.’

‘people die in every world. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘you want to be more, (name)? prove it.’

‘they may think they’re kings but we’re the power behind the throne.’

‘i’m not a fucking coat, (name). you don’t get to check me at the door.’

‘where I go, you go. we’re in this together. step for step.’

‘did you always know that you had what it took to end a life?’

‘I thought it would be hard, but in that moment, nothing was easier.’

‘you were never one to dwell on the past. I loved that about you, the way things always just rolled off.’

‘every end is a new beginning.’

‘I underestimated you once. I don’t intend to do so again.’

‘the only difference between us is that you naively insist on preserving what I know should be destroyed.’

‘I played god once and it did not end well.’

‘oh no, it will never work between us.’

‘sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, you just looked sad.’

‘while I admire how far you’ve come, the fact is, you’re tracking mud into my home.’

‘we can’t shape our past. only our future.’

‘don’t you ever wonder if it’s our fault?’

‘life is more than an equation. a person is more than the sum of their parts.’

‘normal is overrated.’

‘A\a magician doesn’t reveal his secrets.’

‘every power has its limits.’

‘we don’t decide who lives and who dies.’

‘now who’s letting their ideals cloud their judgement?’

‘how quickly we devolve. people become animals the moment they are caged.’

‘if you were superhuman, what would your power be?’

‘ignorance is only bliss if you want to get caught.’

‘i’m still here, still doing what I can, because I want to keep people safe.’

‘never underestimate a woman.’

‘I thought I could save him. I tried. but it didn’t work.’

‘power belongs to those who take it.’

‘sharks come swimming when you make a splash.’

‘that’s quite a talent you have there.’

‘I only hope you’re ready to do the right thing,’

‘you help me, and I’ll help you.’

‘everything’s got a limit. you should find yours.’

‘I don’t feel anything.’

‘oh, sorry, if you thought this was a girl’s-night-out kind of thing where we get drunk and bond, I’ll have to pass.’

‘why settle for one weapon when you can have an arsenal?’

‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back.’

‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back. i’d rather make a new one. a better one.’

‘I thought you were done with hiding.’

‘people can see an awful lot, and believe none of it.’

‘why sit around sulking when you could hurt the people who hurt you?’

‘let’s talk about revenge.’

‘there are limits. I can’t stop nature. can't change it’s course.’

‘whatever’s happened to you, however you’re hurt, you’ve done it to yourself.’

‘oh, I like to think I have a great deal of nerve.’

‘if you had a damn bit of sense you would have run.’

'knowledge may be power, but money buys both.’

‘sometimes subtlety is overrated.’

‘when people stay in the dark, it’s easier to make them disappear.’

‘I don’t want to survive, I want to thrive.’

‘what now? you gonna throw yourself a fucking party?’

‘if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had something against me.’

‘if I wanted you dead, you would be.’

‘whatever you’ve heard, it’s probably true.’

‘is there anyone who doesn’t want to kill you?’

‘how many excuses will you find to vindicate your own stubbornness?’

‘careful is a calculated risk. and I’m very good at making those.’

‘the truth is, there will always be someone stronger than you.’

‘you do what you can. you fight, and you win, until you don’t.’

‘once upon a time, power was determined by linage—- the age of blood. then it was determined by money—- the age of gold. but I think it’s time for a new age. the age of power itself.’

‘let me guess, I’m either with you or against you?’

‘you always preferred being predator to prey.’

‘we just have to lie low until it’s over, and then—’

‘when this is over, you and I are going to have words.’

‘it appears that we are evenly matched.’

‘it always comes down to this, doesn’t it? to us.’

[antaripirate]

The disaster trio: *puts on the binding rings*

Holland, entirely unprompted:

sorry

[moons-honies]

**just a disclaimer, I did this for fun. It’s just a theory on his canon height and I know it’s not the most accurate and there are probably easier ways to find his height. I just thought it would be fun**

So I was on Twitter and saw someone post this photo of Arthur, and they said his hands were big. I agree, they are big and I was wondering just how big they were. I looked closely at the image and saw he’s eating apricots.

So I found this image and confirmed that he IS holding apricots. In order to find out the size of this hand, I looked up the true size of the can from that time period.

So on www.size.com, it referenced this book made in 1890. I did check the book to confirm the measurements for cans during that time period and it looks like the standard size for fruit cans was No. 3. The sizes listed are the can sizes that were made available at the time, but as of recent years the variety has expanded. (The book is called The Secrets of Canning by Ernest F. Schwab.)

I also checked the label sizes during that time period to see if it would be similar/ reflect the No. 3 size cans.

So I went ahead and took my own reference photo of Arthur to use. You can see I listed the size of the can on the left. I copy/pasted with a ruler to get an estimation of his palm size. I also measured his head separately as a reference to measure his body. I made sure to subtract the space where his mouth is open.

His wrist to palm length came out to:

3 15/16 inch or 3.93 inch

His head came out to be:

8 1/16 inch or 8.06 inch

Eventually I did measure his body, again, I know it doesn’t look very accurate. But I used his head size as reference. So I took that size and brought it down about 9 times. The total ended up being: 72.56 inch.

Height: 6’0”ft or 6.04ft.

But yeah, that’s pretty much it. I did do it wrong the first time, so I redid it and got the amount above. I am sorry if this is confusing, thank you for reading :0 !!

[rmstitanics]

* FAMOUS INDIVIDUALS WITH YOUR MOON SIGN.

If you’re looking for suggestions on which authors and music artists to check out next, look to your moon sign! In Western astrology, the moon is said to represent your subconscious mind, emotions, and inner personality, so it is widely believed that we tend to relate to media by artists who share our moon sign.

♈️ ARIES MOON

WRITERS:

Gore Vidal

George R. R. Martin

Nicholas Sparks

Rick Riordan

Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Christopher Paolini

MUSICIANS:

P!nk

Whitney Houston

Céline Dion

Selena Gomez

Rihanna

Tupac

♉️ TAURUS MOON

WRITERS:

Jodi Picoult

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Hans Christian Anderson

Clive Barker

George Bernard Shaw

Aldous Huxley

MUSICIANS:

Pharrell Williams

Kelly Clarkson

Bob Dylan

Demi Lovato

Christina Aguilera

Pitbull

♊️ GEMINI MOON

WRITERS:

C. S. Lewis

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Orson Scott Card

Franz Kafka

Margaret Mitchell

R.A. Salvatore

T. S. Elliot

MUSICIANS:

Ella Fitzgerald

Florence Welch

Art Garfunkel

Billy Idol

Sia

Tina Turner

♋️ CANCER MOON

WRITERS:

George Orwell

Liu Cixin

Brandon Sanderson

Cassandra Clare

Diana Gabaldon

Lois Lowry

MUSICIANS:

Tchaikovsky

Taylor Swift

Kurt Cobain

Halsey

Aretha Franklin

Janis Joplin

♌️ LEO MOON

Oscar Wilde

Holly Black

Geraldine Brooks

James Dashner

Jack London

Ta Nehisi Coates

MUSICIANS:

Lana Del Ray

Paul McCartney

Queen Latifah

Niall Horan

Bruno Mars

David Bowie

♍️ VIRGO MOON

WRITERS:

Leo Tolstoy

John Grisham

Claudia Gray

Isabel Allende

Xiran Jay Zhao

Douglas Adams

MUSICIANS:

Dolly Parton

Nicki Manaj

Madonna

Lorde

Bo Burnham

Lizzo

♎️ LIBRA MOON

WRITERS:

Jane Austen

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Sylvia Plath

William Shakespeare

Maya Angelou

R.F. Kuang

MUSICIANS:

Ariana Grande

Charli XCX

Bruce Springsteen

Jay-Z

Harry Styles

Fergie

♏️ SCORPIO MOON

WRITERS:

Veronica Roth

Edith Wharton

V.E. Schwab

Harper Lee

Keira Cass

Meg Cabot

MUSICIANS:

Lady Gaga

Tyler the Creator

Cyndi Lauper

Beyoncé

Bob Marley

The Weeknd

♐️ SAGITTARIUS MOON

WRITERS:

Stephen King

Victor Hugo

Marie Lu

Suzanne Collins

Samantha Shannon

Adam Silvera

MUSICIANS

Hozier

Freddie Mercury

Adele

Ludwig Van Beethoven

Chappell Roan

John Legend

♑️ CAPRICORN MOON

WRITERS:

Sarah J. Maas

J.M. Barrie

Jeff Shaara

Joyce Carol Oates

Stephanie Meyer

Angie Thomas

MUSICIANS:

Frédéric Chopin

Neil Diamond

Jon Bon Jovi

Lin-Manuel Miranda

Stevie Nicks

Donna Summer

♒️ AQUARIUS MOON

WRITERS:

Margaret Atwood

Leigh Bardugo

Louisa May Alcott

Seth Grahame-Smith

Anthony Horowitz

S.E. Hinton

MUSICIANS:

Cody Simpson

Marilyn Monroe

Britney Spears

Billie Eilish

Tim McGraw

Carrie Underwood

♓️ PISCES MOON

WRITERS:

Toni Morrison

Edgar Allen Poe

Malcolm Gladwell

Lisa McMann

Alice Oseman

Philippa Gregory

MUSICIANS:

Kenny Chesney

Elvis Presley

Frank Sinatra

Prince

Kendrick Lamar

Sabrina Carpenter

[whiteskullofroses]

Noch einer!

(Dieter Hellstrom x reader)- slight nsfw

A/N: Man idk, it's 1 am and Dieter is baby girl. I don't support nacizm/any of this man's ideologies. Enjoy!

🍻 Imagine being a Yugoslav Partisan camouflaged as an SS officer, when attending a nazi meeting in the basement you meet Dieter. After a few too many shots you slip up, but luckily he is too busy thinking about you rather than the things you say.🍻

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room was getting louder and louder with every second running by, yet you didn't budge. At least on the outside, on the inside though, you were on fire. The gun on your belt looked lovelier with every nazi that walked in and sat down at the table you were sitting at.

You couldn't believe that you approved of this "genius" plan The Basterds came up with. No matter how stupid it seemed, there was a possibility it could work and you wanted nothing more than to have these Schwabs out of Europe and sent straight to hell where they belonged.

The SS uniform felt too tight and uncomfortable, you tapped your black boots against the cold cement and silently cursed every officer that came in the basement, however, you decided to busy your mind with something else and stretch your legs. You got up, lit a cigarette in between your middle and pointer finger, and noticed the gramophone hiding behind a wall. Just as you noticed it, it stopped playing. Walking up to the gramophone to restart it, your eyes noticed a figure in the corner.

The yellow light from the candle lit up the left side of his face.

The SS officer was reading a book and drinking beer. The more you stared at him, your mind forgetting about the music, the more attractive he looked. "No, Y/N this isn't right," you said to yourself: "I shouldn't pray on men today, especially nazis."

Without realizing he was staring right back at you until he finally spoke: "Fräulein? Was ist los?" You broke eye contact and didn't reply.

He took a deep breath and closed the book, his hand patting the sit next to him, gesturing for you to sit down.

Your heartbeat quickened, the tension was unbearable and not in a good way.

"Y/N, do not show any compassion to him, his people are killing yours on the lines out there, he doesn't deserve it." Were the only thoughts running through your head the whole time you were slowly walking up to his side.

But for now, you had to be an actress to stay alive. His cologne smelled nice. That was the first remark you truly noticed about him, besides his amazing looks. "Wie heißt du, Liebling?"

"Liebling? Hah," you thought: "what an attempt to get me flustered."

"Erika Shauenberg."

It wasn't your real name, of course.

"Zigarette?" the man asked you, smiling. His smile wasn't bad either, in fact, he was the most perfect man you've ever seen.

"Why does he have to be a piece of shit?"

Your cigarette from before burned up by itself without you even putting it in your mouth. He really got you distracted so much that you forgot to smoke.

Nodding and taking one out of the box you thanked him: "Danke."

With one slick move, he pulled out a lighter and lit it. German cigs tasted different than the Yugoslav ones, but for the time being, they were good enough.

"Oh!" He remembered: "Es tut mir leid, dass ich vergessen habe," putting one in his mouth as well: "mich vorzustellen."

Blowing smoke into thin air: "Major Dieter Hellstrom."

Dieter? What an extraordinary name.

"Erik!" Dieter called out to the waiter as he approached our table. "Scotch, zwei Gläser!"

Grinning, he leaned closer to you and half whispered: "Erik hat eine Flasche Jahre alten Whisky aus dem schottischen Hochland-"

"Would you mind if we continued in English?" You interrupted him: "I was raised in France as a German kid." Tapping your cigarette on a black ashtray: "I never learned proper German because my father, well..."

Think Y/N! Think!

"He was killed in combat and my mother died from the flu when I was only 5 years old." Putting on a sad face you sighed: "I was given to a foster family in France."

"Where?" Dieter wondered.

"Menton."

"Ah, Erik!"

The waiter brought the two of you your drinks and left the scotch bottle on the table. Amazing, this was going to be a long night.

However, in reality, you couldn't complain about being in his company. Yes, he was a nazi, and yes you hated nazis, but damn was he charming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 hour later....

You've never had this much fun in your life. How many shots you drank, how many cigarettes you smoked? You didn't care, and neither did Dieter. He was just as shitfaced as you.

You both laughed at each other's stories from the past.

"Noch einer, Liebling?"

"Ja, bitte!"

As he took your glass to fill it up, you watched the golden liquid splash on the table as the bottle slipped from his hand. You quickly picked it up, slightly touching his hand while leaning over the table to reach it, and laughed out loud.

"You know this reminds me when I lived in Yugo-"

Shit. No no no no no!

"Yugo? What Yugo?" he looked at you, his eyes glassy, gazing upon your face.

You swallowed hard: "Yugo? Yugo! Ah, yes!"

Think Y/n, think!

"Yugo's apartment .."

Good job Y/n

"We dated in highschool."

It was quite impressive how your foggy brain could still have such a wild imagination.

For a second he looked at you and said:

"You're aren't German, are you?"

Silence

You simply started at him and ran over the words he just spoke.

He said it's so effortlessly, his drunk tongue didn't slur one word in that sentence, as if that didn't mean that you were about to die. There was no solution in getting out of this. You do not have any evidence that you in fact were German, nor that you lived in France! Hell you don't even know France that well at all! You were pretty sure these were your last moments alive before his pretty German pistol would shoot you in the head and leave you for the rats feast on.

Suddenly the clock on the stone wall behind you started ticking slower, your heartbeat sped up and your palms got sweaty.

Meanwhile, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out. His left hand was in his pocket the whole time, swiftly he pulled his hand out of his pocket and grabbed your face, to your surprise he didn't press a gun to your lips, he pressed his lips against yours. He kissed you.

To be continued...

[happygirl2oo2]

A few interesting tidbits from Cassandra Clare's Q&A panel with V.E. Schwab on June 2nd, 2024 [Cassandra Clare's edition]:

Cassie didn't really have a community of writer friends yet at the time she came up with City of Bones (not including Holly Black, who was already a close friend) but she did have a bunch of friends who played D&D so she gave the idea to them to run as D&D campaign to see what would come up.

Cassie has a real red old British phone box at her house, which she originally bought 'cause she just thought it was cool but then later a visitor to the house saw it and asked if he could re-design it into a time-travel machine and she said yes so now the inside of it has all these levers and other things and basically feels "like the Tardis".

Cassie says that her favorite scenes to write are scenes where there's a place for humor and banter, and finds those easier to write, and her least favorite scenes to write are fight scenes and/or any scenes that involve a lot of characters on the page at the same time.

Jace's birthday spaghetti bath memory from City of Bones is based on a real story from Cassie's childhood best friend from when they were 4 and their mom asked what they wanted for their birthday.

Telling the story of meeting and befriending Holly Black, Cassie says that around 2001 she wrote a few silly stories about the Lord of The Rings characters and it got around to Holly, who at the time was about to publish her first book, and she emailed Cassie to tell her she enjoyed the stories. Cassie emailed back saying that she loved Holly's book, which seemed to confuse Holly as it was not yet published but Cassie explained that her friend had gotten an ARC of it and given it to her saying she'd likely enjoy it, and Holly then emailed inviting Cassie and her friends to a panel she did with another author once the book was out (which Cassie thinks, looking back, was probably Holly's first ever time doing a panel). After the panel, the two went out for drinks where they got taking, realized they had a lot of common interests, and became friends.

Cassie says Clockwork Angel is probably the book she had to fight the most in order to get it published as her publisher at the time was interested in more Shadowhunter books (as The Mortal Instruments already had 2 books out at that point and they were doing well) but were worried about it being set in 1878 as they did not think teens would be interested in a historical series.

While usually just splitting the joint writing process by having each person write a different POV character or a different section of the story when co-writing with other authors, Cassie says that when writing the Magisterium Series she and Holly Black actually kept the doc on one computer that they passed back and forth while they wrote as they wanted it to be impossible to know who wrote what in it, even to themselves when they read it later.

[for V.E. Schwab's edition]

[crookedt44th]

JR.1 WELCOME HOME | LMH

PAIRINGS ➳ lee minho x gender-neutral reader (cora)

GENRE ➳ friends to lovers ◦ slow burn ◦ heavy angst ◦ horror ◦ psychological thriller ◦ fantasy ◦ slight humor ◦ ghosts ◦ will add more later!

WARNINGS ➳ mental issues (derealization) ◦ memory loss ◦ inappropriate language ◦ suggestive themes, but no smut ◦ death ◦ gore(?) ◦ smoking ◦ lots of drug and alcohol use ◦ cruel society ◦ adult life crisis ◦ bad life decisions ◦ religious themes ◦ class struggles ◦ hallucinations ◦ will add more later!

WC ➳ 3,000+

STATUS ➳ Ongoing.

ABOUT ➳ After dropping out of college, Cora returns home to their small town of Stormvillie with the hopes of reconnecting with their friends they left behind and resuming their carefree previous life. However, things have changed since then. Their friends have grown up and changed, and home seems different now. The wind is getting colder and the leaves are falling. As the night gets darker, strange things are happening.

And there's something in the woods.

NIGHT IN THE WOODS SERIES

CHARACTERS AND THEIR STORIES

Scott Street - Phoebe Bridgers started playing ...

Walking Scott Street, feeling like a stranger

With an open heart, open container 

I’ve got a stack of mail and a tall can

It’s a shower bear, it’s a payment plan

Even though quitting college was the hardest decision I made, I was relieved to be back in my hometown. There I was on the train, listening to music and settled into my seat comfortably. I knew I had arrived in Stormville when I spotted the streets I knew so well and the cafe I used to go to every day when I was a teenager. As it reaches an intersection, a train blows its horn. Picking up my backpack and suitcase, I stood up from my seat and waited for the train doorway to slide open. I began to search around for my parents when I got off the train, but they weren't there. I sat down on the nearby bench to wait some more in case they hadn't arrived. 

Well, this is great. I mean I didn’t expect a party or anything, but I figured someone would be here.

I reached into my backpack and took out the book I had brought from the city. Victoria Schwab’s City of Ghosts. My grandpa gave me this as a gift before he passed away, along with a touching note. This book was really special to me. I missed him a lot. 

I cast a quick peek at the open train doors. I could have sworn there were plenty of people on the train, but it was entirely empty. It was really packed in the city two hours ago. Odd.

Once again, I did not see my parents when I looked up. They must have forgotten about me. Moreover, my phone just died. With a loud groan, I stood up from the bench, gathered my belongings, and headed to find the train station's exit. Looking to my left, I saw a janitor leaving the ticket counter with his toolbox, but I stopped him before he went anywhere. 

“Hey, excuse me. Do you know where everybody is?” 

"It’s 9:52. It’s closed," the janitor said. "And no one ever gets off the bus to Stormville nowadays." A loud notice stating that there would be a delay in the train from Stormville to the city. I suppose there was a breakdown. "Looks like I've got a job to do. See you around." He offered me a smile before entering the train to do his job. Looking up at the train station's building, I started noticing how much it had changed. The last time I visited, the trains weren't running well, and the ticket booths were abandoned.

I roamed around till I arrived at the playground, which was a spot I knew well. I rushed to play on the swings, experiencing a surge of nostalgia. Right as soon as I began to swing, I was taken back to the times when my friends and I would swing ourselves a little too high in the air and compete to see who could land the perfect jump. A chilly breeze blew in my face as I continued to swing higher and higher, moving my legs back and forth. I swung back, took my hands off from the chains, and jumped when I thought the moment was right for me to land. I was confident I would land perfectly on my feet this time, but instead I ended up on my knees, then my face on the rough mulch. With a sigh, I realized that no matter how hard I try, I won't ever be able to land on my feet and end up always hurting myself. 

I laid there for a while. I rolled over so I could lie on my back and look at the dark blue sky with a large, beautiful moon. It felt strangely comfy, and I didn't want to get up, but I had a family to come home to. Just as I lifted myself off the ground, a flash of light shone on my face. I rubbed my eyes and glanced up to see my aunt standing there, still dressed in her police uniform, with a flashlight beaming on my face.

"Welcome home, Cora." Although Aunt shot me a blank look, I continued to send her a smile. 

"Oh hey, Auntie. Been a while" 

"Yup. And you’re still scurrying around like a cat." Shaking her head at me and letting out a sigh, she walked down the parking lot to her car. "Get in my car, it’s getting late." She shouted. I hurriedly got up, ran back to where my stuff was beside the swings, and made my way to her car. 

A long, silent ride aside from a radio playing. I took a quick tour around her police patrol vehicle, noting the camera next to the rearview mirror, an MDT in front of the radio, and her walkie-talkie, which was still blaring. Afterwards, I cast a sidelong glance at her; she continued to give off a sense of severity that brought back memories of how I used to be scared of her. Because of this, it was difficult to try to get along with her. As we drove by, I gazed out the window, noticing the closed shops and lonely streets. 

"Cora, why did you come back?" Her abrupt comments made me flinch, and I turned my head slightly in her direction. Aunt's expression remained fixed on the road.

“I just wanted to.” 

“Oh. Alright.”

“...”

“...”

Here comes the awkward silence.

“Be careful around here this time.”

Nevermind.

“Okay? Thanks.”

"I'm serious," she replied, staring briefly at me before returning her attention to the road.

“Alright, alright. I heard you.”

“...”

“...”

“So–”

“We’re here.”

When she pulled into my driveway, I got out of the car right away. I stopped to wave her off and she grinned slightly. With a pout, I tilted my head and watched Aunt driving away. I shrugged and walked towards the front door of my house, ringing the doorbell. I crept to peer through the front door's window, and when I eventually caught a glimpse of my dad, I smiled broadly. I saw his stunned expression when he opened the door wide.

"Cora! Wasn't you supposed to come home tomorrow night?" Ah, I see why. I forgot he hardly remembers anything. 

“No, dad. It was today. I kind of figured you’d forget.”

“Oh, darling, I am so sorry. Please come inside, it is really cold out.” Dad helped pick up your bags and brought them upstairs. 

I was hit by a familiar aroma of cinnamon and vanilla as soon as I stepped into the house. Mom had to have lit that candle. There were still several framed pictures of me and my parents hanging on the wall beside the stairs. I glanced over to see the old television playing in the living room. Newspapers strewn out and a cup of tea on the wooden coffee table. I came to sit down on a couch to wait for my dad. After a while, he returned with another cup of tea and placed it gently in front of me. 

"Be careful, kid. It's still really hot." He smiled warmly at me. I nodded, watching as the steam from my hot tea dissipated. 

“Where’s Mom?”

"Oh, right! She's still working. You'll see her in the morning, so don't worry." Dad gave me a shoulder pat. With his tea in his other hand, he picked up his newspaper and started to read. It dawned on me that I was at last back home after spending two chaotic and busy years in a huge city. Although I had a good time, it wasn't where I wanted to be. I picked up my cup with care and sipped the tea before getting up to head to my room. 

"I'm going to my room now. Thank you for the tea, Dad." 

Again grinning, he looked up at me and said, "Alright! Have a pleasant dream, okay?" With a nod, I turned to head up the stairs. As I made my way to my room, I saw that it had a little whiteboard hung up and a door covered with stickers. "Not Here Anymore!" It read with a heart indented. I chuckled. It surprised me that it hadn't been erased yet. 

I opened the door and there it was, my comfort zone. There were a few fairy lights and band posters hanging on the wall, along with an empty desk, a cleanly made bed with old white pillows and blue plaid sheets, and several books scattered all over the place. The tapestry of a skeleton over the desk is being used as a curtain to block the window. On the left, there's a record player on the top of the drawer and an abandoned acoustic guitar next to the mirror. Shutting the door, I hopped onto the bed. Not when I was lying in this extremely comfortable bed, did I feel the need to change clothing. 

I rolled over in bed and examined every poster on the wall until my eyes were drawn to something, which caused me to rapidly sit up. The old friends, with whom I hadn't spoken in a long time, and myself on a Polaroid. I took a closer look by moving to the edge of the bed and snatching the polaroid. Minho, the brunette guy, wrapped his arm around my neck and waved a peace sign. Behind us were two kids, Jisung and Chan. After I left for college, we stopped talking for a while, but sometimes they would send me short messages like "I miss you" and "how are you." Even though they were the ones who were happy for me when I got accepted into college, looking at this polaroid made me a little anxious about seeing them again. It would definitely not be too bad to see Jisung and Chan again, but it would be with Minho.

The most heartbreaking thing I had to do was tell my best friend Minho that I was moving out of town and that we wouldn't be seeing each other for a while. Given that we had been friends since middle school, I could tell he was upset when I broke the news to him. I would be lying if I said I wasn't sad and that I wished he could come with me to college. But before I could talk it out with him for the last time, he suddenly cut ties with me after learning the news and made every effort to avoid speaking with me ever again. We’ve never bid our goodbyes together. 

I felt even more sad as I thought back on the past memories. My polaroid was put back up on the wall. I stood up from my bed and opened my backpack. I took out the two cameras, my laptop, and my phone from my backpack together with their chargers. After charging the devices and placing them on my desk, I unzipped my luggage to find my pajamas and changed into them. I hopped back into bed after turning out the light, feeling more at ease and prepared to sleep for the next eight hours. 

There’s helicopters over my head

Every night when I go to bed

Spending money and I earned it

When I’m lonely, that’s when I’ll burn it

September 22, 8:32 a.m.

I woke up to the smell of breakfast and coffee coming from the kitchen and checked my alarm clock, which read 8 a.m. Sitting up, I yawned and rubbed my eyes to see better. I dragged myself out of bed, grabbed my necessities, and proceeded to the bathroom to brush my teeth. After flossing my teeth and rearranging all of my stuff, I returned to my room to change.

I was going through my luggage again, trying to decide what to wear, when I remembered I had this band shirt that I had kept for years in my closet. I went to my closet in search of them, and that's where I discovered the gray The Smiths shirt. I changed into a black pair of ripped jeans and a shirt. I didn't forget the flannel, of course. 

I ran down the stairs and to the kitchen, and when I finally saw my mom, I was hit by a wave of nostalgia again. She made pancakes today and prepared a mug of hot coffee for me. 

“Welcome home!” Mom exclaimed with a big smile. “I am deeply sorry about yesterday, I really thought you were coming home tonight. I wanted to make up to you by making your favorite breakfast!”

“Oh, mom. It’s okay, at least I’m here now.” I picked up my fork and knife to cut the pancakes in four. 

“Cora, sweetie?”

“Yeah?” I continued to eat. 

“Is everything all right?” 

I abruptly stopped, looking up at my mom’s concerned face. 

“I’m fine, mom.” 

“Well, that’s good. It’s just.. That’s not usually something a college sophomore does.” 

“I know.” I continued to go back to eating. 

“You can tell me anything-”

“Can we talk about this another time?”

I dismissed my mom's concern and continued to stare down at my nearly done pancakes, feeling instantly bad.

"Talk to me whenever you need, okay?" Mom said, sighing. After giving her a nod and finishing the last of my pancakes, I got up from my chair. 

"Also, Mom, do you happen to know where my friends are? Jisung, Chan, and..." I hesitated, wondering if it would be appropriate to finally meet Minho after we had been apart for two years. But I won't be able to sleep easily unless I know how he's doing today. "And Minho."

"As far as I know, Jisung is working at the Safe in Sound record store! Chan probably works at his dad's outlet store as well." Mom said, picking up the plates and carrying them to the sink to wash them. I accepted her response with a nod and waited to find out about Minho, even 

though I wasn't supposed to be worried about him because I knew he probably hates me. Honestly, it didn't really matter. Just as I turned to walk away, my mother spoke. "I was at Poppy's Coffee the last time I saw Minho. He works there."

"Oh. Cool. Guess everyone is at work these days."

"He will be happy to see you. He wouldn't be mad at his best friend for following their dreams." Mom smiled as she turned to face me. "Don't come home too late, okay? Have a nice day."

I decided it would be best to meet Jisung first, before everyone else, and before Minho. Strolling down the well-known streets, observing the stores and realizing they are now newly opened businesses. Well, it's still in construction. There are a lot of construction workers here. That being said, the doughnut shop, which I used to go to often, was still open. I pulled out my wallet to see if I had enough money to buy my friends a single doughnut or two, but there was nothing like a fly sticking out of it. With a shrug, I shoved my wallet into the back pocket of my pants and carried on walking around the streets. 

Next to the statue of the founder that was pointing directly at me, there was a boy who seemed to be a middle schooler, playing on his nintendo ds. I approached him and saw what game he was playing. “Pokemon.. Classic.” He looked up at me, eyes widened.

“Oh, Cora right?” I nodded and the boy continued to go back, focusing on his game, “I’m Lori. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Awesome, I’m assuming they’re bad.”

“Well, everyone was saying you beat the kid up to the hospital. Even my mother told me to stay away from you.”

“Oh, boo. He was mean to my friend.”

“Is it that guy, Minho?” I gulped.

“...No. A girl.”

“Why are you being so awkward when I mentioned that guy?” 

“I’m not- That’s none of your business, little dude.” Reminded that I still needed to meet Jisung, I walked away. 

When I finally made it to the record store, I waited anxiously in front of the door for a minute, imagining what might happen. I relaxed and eventually made my way inside. There were numerous vinyl record boxes arranged on each table, and the speakers mounted on the wall were blasting loud rock music. And there were a bunch of band t-shirts in another area. CDs and cassette tapes were in the rear. I headed towards the classic rock section and browsed the records that I would purchase if I were rich at the moment. Then I heard the door shut from what I thought was the rear of the store, and that's when I remembered why I had come here in the first place. I looked up and walked to the location of the noise, where I saw a man locking the office door. His hair was blue, and he was wearing a leather jacket over a Misfits shirt with a few bands and drawing patches on his blue denim pants. Yup, that’s Jisung. 

He froze and his eyes widened as soon as he spun around and looked up at me. I lifted up my hand to offer him a small wave and nervously chuckled at his reaction. I continued to stand awkwardly in front of Jisung, who massaged his eyes and then peered to make sure it was really me. That's when he started flashing me the big smile I used to miss so much. 

“Oh. My. GOD!” Jisung exclaimed loudly, jumping up and down. For the first time in a long time, I laughed and raced to give him the longest hug I could give; he hugged me so tightly that I nearly passed out. "Cora! Holy shit!”

While holding me, he screamed in my ears. I attempted to withdraw, but he would not let me. "Hey! Not only are you suffocating me, but you're also making my ears go deaf!" When he finally let go of me, we looked at each other for a moment to see what had changed. 

"And you're looking at me for an uncomfortable amount of time." I said as we laughed our asses off once more. 

"Dude, can you blame me? It had been, what? Two years!" Jisung yelled once again, which made me cry with laughter. "Plus, you haven't texted us in a long time. We never forgot about you, you know? Not when you're our coolest friend." 

Even though Jisung's comments were making me feel a little emotional already, it made me think of Minho again. If not every day, then at least occasionally, I wondered if he ever thought about me. Hell, I wondered if he ever felt bad for shoving me away like that. I wondered if he had ever cared about me. Jisung's voice stunned me after I had been zoning out for a moment. 

"I am SO going to tell Chan and Vanna about this!" Excitedly, he took his phone out of the pocket of his leather jacket and began texting them, pacing back and forth. 

"Wait, Vanna?" I frowned. It's been a while since I heard from her. 

"Oh, right! That Vanna, yes. She’s sort of our backup for the drummer." He responded, illustrating every word with hand motions. 

"You guys still play in a band?" I let out a gasp.

"Yes! But it's been almost a month since we last played since, you know, we've been pretty busy lately." With a sigh, Jisung peered around the shop until all of a sudden he stopped and held up his index finger at me. "Wait here. I have a gift for you.” I nodded, giving that air of confusion, and then I went back to the place I had been at before, looking through every box in the classic rock section. I eventually grew bored and started exploring the store's various categories. Punk, indie, R&B, metal, and many other genres were represented. As I browsed the indie section, contemplating which records to purchase later if I had an opportunity, my attention was drawn to a certain album. Young The Giant's self-titled album. When I remembered how often Minho used to play this record whenever I visited his place, I started to feel emotional again—for the hundredth time. To be honest, I could list a lot of bands that make me think of him. Why does he never text me? Not even an apology at least? 

I exhaled deeply, carefully set down the record, and took another look around the shop. Then I noticed a piece of paper that was pinned to the bulletin board beside the entrance door. I moved in closer to examine the paper, and to my surprise, it was a missing poster with a familiar face. A photo of a young, attractive, long blonde haired man with freckles and a lovely smile. Felix Lee. 

"He has been missing for a year now." The abrupt voice startled me, so I turned to face the redhead guy immediately. It took me a moment to realize, though, that it was one of my friends. Chan. He had on a black hoodie and ripped jeans with a chain connected.

"You scared the hell out of me. Fuck you." I gave him the hardest shoulder blow I could manage. His laughter got so loud, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I refused to look at him and crossed my arms. He laughed again, seeing that I was being a little whiny child. "Oh my god, stop it. I'm going to kill you." 

"All right, all right. I'll stop. Come here." Chan invited you to give him a hug by spreading his arms wide. I smiled and moved to offer him the same long embrace that I gave Jisung, but this one was much softer and more welcome. "I missed you, kiddo."

"I missed you, too." We both pulled away from the hug, and I saw Chan's eyes shift to Felix's missing poster. 

"Do you know what really happened to him?"

"Not really. Y’know at first, I thought he just disappeared without a word.” He sighed, folding his arms. “I can't stop worrying about whether or not he is safe, even if we are no longer friends." 

"I remember he told me how he always wanted to escape this town." I recalled. 

"Yeah." Chan muttered. 

"Damn, no need to get too dark." We both turned to look at Jisung as he held up two vinyl records: Fleetwood Mac and Agents of Fortune by Blue Oyster Cult. "Sorry for the wait. I had to go through a lot of limited edition boxes and all that shit."

"My favorite albums!" I gasped and reached for the vinyls. "Wait, you don't have to give this to me for free."

"But I really want to! I'm just glad to have you back, so please have this as a gift." After Jisung's comments, my heart warmed, and I placed the vinyls down on the counter to give him another embrace. Chan then joined in. Moving to a new city for college and spending the last two years living alone in a dorm didn't go as planned. Especially, not having any friends meant that I had no one to talk to. Really, though, I'm glad to be back where I belong—among my best friends, with whom I've missed spending a lot of time with. 

"Oh hey, Vanna!" Jisung said, releasing his hug to welcome Vanna. Chan and I also greeted her, though I was suddenly nervous because I hadn't spoken to Vanna since the last year of middle school. She appeared to be a lot different than before. Short black hair with micro bangs, dressed entirely in black. Denim vest over a long-sleeved top, fingerless fishnet gloves, and leggings. She wore a black pearl necklace around her vest's collar and carried a leather bag. 

"Oh, did I just ruin your emotional reunion? Oops.” Vanna murmured, staring at Jisung and Chan with a blank expression before turning to face me. I gave an awkward little smile and waved. "Surprised to see you back, I guess." 

Jisung began clapping with his hands and bouncing up and down. "This is going to be the greatest day, week, month, and year ever, without a doubt!" 

"You're going to hear this a thousand times this week, but we're really happy to have you back," Chan jokes. "For real." 

"Yeah. For real." Vanna agreed while maintaining her blank stare. "Amazing day to be back as well. There will be a party tonight. In the woods. If you're down." Vanna crossed her legs and leaned against the counter, waiting for anyone to respond. I turned to face Chan and Jisung, who both nodded, indicating that their work shifts end in the afternoon and that they were good to go. I wanted to ask a question before I even decided to go. 

"Uhm, is Minho going?" The room went dead silence when I asked a question about Minho, who doesn't talk to me anymore and they knew that. Vanna frowned in confusion at the question, but she took it as an excuse to play on her phone and avoid being involved. However, Jisung and Chan appeared a little afraid to respond. I became afraid as well, immediately projecting the worst-case scenarios about Minho.

"Before you overthink, kiddo, Minho is alive and well." Chan scratched his head and sighed. "We just don't talk anymore." Head down, Jisung nodded in agreement with Chan. Oh, damn.

"But you guys act like he's dead." I laughed, causing them to both chuckle too. "But what happened?" 

"Well, remember how he just cut you off after you told him you were leaving? So, when you left, Jisung and I tried to talk to Minho, and things got, you know, complicated." 

“That doesn't really help at all, Chan. I'll never get why he was so mad at me for leaving. We have phones, so it's not like I was going to stop talking to him."

"He wasn't mad!" Jisung chimed in right away, saying, "It was something more, like— Dude, I dunno! If only his ass wouldn't be such a goddamn wimp, or at least be honest rather than so damned stubborn—" Chan quickly covered Jisung's mouth while Vanna, who was still engrossed in her phone, walked out bidding goodbye. But his outburst over Minho confused me even more. 

"I really want to tell you what it is, though I'm sure Minho would like to talk to you now that you're back. He wasn't upset about you leaving, and he doesn't hate you. Just... maybe talk it out properly this time if you see him." Chan, like a sweetheart, gave me a tiny piece of advice while still covering Jisung's mouth, who begged him to let go. "Also, to finally answer your question, he'll definitely be there tonight."

I guess now is the time to discover the truth and solve the mystery.

Do you feel ashamed

When you hear my name?

Having spent a few hours at Jisung's workplace, I went home to change for the party. Because I was never a party or formal type, I didn't have a lot of party clothes. Wearing something a little more simple, though, shouldn't harm anyone. I then put on a pair of dirty black Converse, blue denim ripped jeans, and a long sleeve black and white striped shirt that I had tucked in. The floor was a little messy now that the clothes had been tossed around trying to figure out what to wear. Vanna texted me to let me know she was on her way, so I hurried to get a crossbody purse and stuff my Polaroid camera inside. And finally, I snuck into my mom's bathroom to use her antique floral perfume. 

The sound of the honk from outside, indicating that Vanna was here, had me running downstairs. When I got inside the car, Jisung and Chan were also there, and so I sat next to Jisung. While the other three were chatting and the radio played random songs, I propped my head against the window and observed the several trees we passed. Throughout the twenty minutes of the drive, Jisung continued to move himself closer to the front to discuss his conspiracy theories with Vanna and Chan. Even though we were all adults now, we hadn't changed a bit. 

When we arrived, it appeared to be a deserted camping spot where a group of kids had gathered for a party. After exiting the vehicle, Chan struck up a conversation with some of the kids lingering in the parking lot. Vanna, In the meantime, had vanished somewhere, and Jisung and I were attempting to find our way to the party. There was a band playing, a bonfire, lights strung from trees, and the party was held by the lake. The band started playing, and everyone in the pit began to dance along. To the left, a few tables were set up with snacks and drinks. The ice cooler, which holds beer, was next to the table. 

Jisung shouted that we should start drinking before jumping in the pit. I knew I would regret this, but why not? You only get one chance at life. Jisung grabbed my hand as we went to the ice cooler to grab a beer for each of us. I started to sip a tiny bit and laughed when I glanced over to find Jisung drinking half a can already. It had been a long time since the last time I drank and that very same day I threw up a thousand times on Chan’s toilet, so I wasn't really sure whether or not to down today. Although I could already feel myself getting a little tipsy with each sip and decided to just fuck it and finish the can. After consuming the last of the beer cans and throwing them in the trash, Jisung and I joined in to dance.

We had been singing along to our favorite songs for quite some time, and I was laughing so hard at Jisung's headbanging that I lost my voice. Now when it was time to take a break and get some fresh air, I told Jisung that I was going to be by the campfire and he gave me the thumbs up. I made my way through the mass of people who were partying a little too hard and looked for a bonfire that was located up in the hill. I pulled out my phone and played on it for a little bit, only browsing social media, which I hadn't used in a long time, as I sat down on the log. I eventually felt that I was growing bored and chose to take in the gorgeous lake view from this location. I could feel myself about to vomit, but I had to contain it in order not to embarrass myself in front of people. Despite the fact that there was no one around the bonfire and just a small ice cooler. When I opened it, I thought maybe there might be a water bottle inside, but all I found was beer. Shrugging, I took another one of these anyway.  

"Do you still not have a new shirt that you promised to buy me after you puked in it last time?" I froze all at once. Oh, that voice. I carefully set my beer down on my knee, afraid to glance up at the man I've been getting worked up over. He moved to sit next to me, took up the log sticks, and gave one to me. Bewildered and unwilling to look up, I took hold of the stick and watched what he was doing. There were crackers, chocolate bars, and packets of marshmallows that I was probably too drunk to notice earlier. He put a marshmallow on a stick and moved it closer to the flames. I finally compelled myself to glance up at his side profile as he was doing so, and I could feel my heartbeat quicken. It was really Minho. Plus, he was far more attractive. Wide-leg jeans with a plaid flannel worn over and a black shirt tucked in. This time, his hair had changed to a copper reddish brown color. 

"You're here." After a while, I spoke. 

"So are you." He laughed softly. I missed hearing that sound. 

I was staring at the side of his face until he turned to look directly into my eyes. How pretty his eyes were. That lovely smile of his. Oh, dude, I really missed him. 

"We also have a lot to talk about." Minho added, "and a big apology."

Anyway, don’t be a stranger.

NEXT JOURNAL

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➳ hi! i would absolutely love to hear ur feedback on this, so pls make sure to like and comment! im actually very excited to keep this going even tho my semester is starting next week, but its ok i have like two classes for this month LOL

TAGLIST ➳ @estella-novella @melanctton

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[monstersflashlight]

I wanna know what books are your favorite!

Hi anon! I'm so glad you asked... *evil laugh* I'm a big BIG reader, I read a ton of books a year, and I'm basically reading 24/7 (bc I read for work and then in my free time I read some more), I'm obsessed with romance (autistic special interest) and I've been actively reading monsterfuckery for years, so surprisingly for nobody, my fav choices are all monsterfucker related. I've choosen five out of a ton, so be aware of that.

Monstruos series by Lily Mayne: My absolute fav series of all times, I love this so much I'm gonna get a bunch of tattoos with all the monsters. Is a dystopian world where the veil between the monster and human world dropped an human civilization kinda disappeared. It's all M/M books and I'm utterly obsessed. It's really painful at points, so be aware, but I recommend it if you like monster stories. My fav one is book six: Seraph. (If any of you has read it and wants to talk about it please do message me).

Deep earth dating by Lily Mayne: follows a very interesting new species of monsters who used to live underground and surfaced, now they live between humans and they are fucking fenomenal. Love, love, LOVE it. A lot more cozy.

(Not gonna mention the other books of Lily Mayne but def read them all because she's fantastic and all she writes is worth mentioning in this list)

Black dagger brotherhood by J.R. Ward: secret society meets mafia meets soulmates meets a long as fuck series with tons of trauma and sketchy moments. It's a great series but I have to say I stopped on book 15 or so, and it's on book 25 or something. Not because I didn't like it, but because life happened and never have the time to go back and catch up. My fav book is Lover at least (gay story with very very painful development). It's a great series, and has my favorite fanfic of all times (which is a 1200 pages of gay angst with happy ending).

The invisible life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab: this is the only book I would recommend literally anyone. This book is so wonderful it made me cry multiple times and it's a wonderful exploration of human nature and desires. Great, great book. (So good I have it in spanish and english).

Prime Mating Agency by Regine Abel: dude if you haven't read this yet, go ahead because it's the perfect mix between social problems and romance in an intergalactic setting with a bunch of different monsters.

Black bear clan by Zoe Ashwood: orcs, size difference and fated mates. Nothing else to say, you should pick it up because is marvelous.

And I have a ton of other recs but don't want to make this post longer than already is. Would be super happy to give you recs on any monster or special settings, as I said, I read a whole lot (and have a wonderful excel with everything writen down bc autism).

[mercurialskiies]

I don’t care what anyone says, but

“There is nowhere you go,” said the Antari to her prince, “that I cannot follow.”

was an absolutely banger line that, now in CONTEXT, hurt me on a spiritual level

They make me so absolutely ILL

Thanks miss schwab