#that you’d have spent finishing another novel

[mxtxfanatic]

Do you have any recommendations for danmei novels that are at all like SVSSS in tone? Or MDZS?

I have already read TGCF, but while I enjoyed it, the extended downward spiral without as many mental breaks from cutting to happier times proved to me a bit much for me.

I also tried 2ha but bounced off it hard as the POV character is just too unlikable at the start (even knowing why he's like that courtesy of tumblr spoilers couldn't save the unpleasantness of his POV).

I’m gonna be honest, I don’t think I’ve read any book that quite hits the same spot as svsss while having similar quality. The only novel I can think of is that’s similar in feel is Peerless Immortal Surrounded by Demonic Disciples, but the writing quality kinda sucks. Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know feels like it has a similar comedic tone to svsss, but that’s about it with the similarities. For mdzs recs, First-Class Lawyer, Copper Coins by the same author, and Record of the Missing Sect Master comes closest. These have MCs that are most similar in personality to Wei Wuxian without also having that extended downward spiral with minimal breaks that you mentioned.

The thing about mxtx’s writing is that I think her most unique skill amongst the writers of cnovel I’ve read with serious topics is her ability to weave humor into dark moments of the story to give reprieve from the pressure without completely breaking the momentum. A lot of stories either end up dropping the humor as the plot gets serious or adding too much humor, causing the somber moments to seem goofy and unserious. However, if you want stories that are mostly humorous with a few moments of somberness expertly woven in, then I’d suggest Ascending, Do Not Disturb and The Times Spent in Pretense.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Remus Lupin x Potter!Reader

Part 2 • Part 3

Summary: the boys try to guess who Remus is seeing after finding a pink bow tied to one of his bookmarks

Warning: oral fem receiving

—————————————————————————

Remus couldn’t help but to fall in love with you. You’d always been sweet, always too pure for this world. When you were kids, he couldn’t help but want to protect you. It was in all the boys instincts to protect their best friend’s little sister. But as you got older, you and Remus began to spend time together without James. Your relationship truly started last summer at Potter Manor, when you and Remus started an unofficial book club when the boys would play quidditch for hours outside. You guys just had so much in common, and you were more comfortable being around Remus than any other boy besides James. So the two of you spent a lot of time in the library, reading books together and getting into heated debates about writing styles. It didn’t take long for his eyes to wander to your lips when you smiled at him, and it didn’t take long for you to notice. Before you knew it, the two of you were sneaking off to your room while the boys played quidditch, and locking the door behind you.

So that’s how Remus found himself with his face buried between your thighs in the middle of lunch hour. You’d been reading a novel with his head in your lap, innocently trying to finish your chapter before class. But Remus couldn’t constrain himself. He didn’t care if you had class in twenty minutes, you could go with your cunt pooling under your skirt.

“Remi,” you whined, pulling his hair into a fist. He hummed into your core, fingers massaging your thighs as you clenched around his head.

“Shh, be a good girl and let me finish,” he said hastily, before diving back into your folds. He let his tongue ruin you as you squirmed on his bed. Your shirt was bunched up now, buttons undone and tits pulled out of your bra. Remus chuckled as he thrust two fingers into you. He loved seeing you come undone. You were always perfect, also so innocent. It made Remus hard thinking about being your first, being the only one to make you come. He ground himself down into the mattress as he felt you begin to tighten up under his tongue. He almost told you to be quiet but his mouth was occupied. You shuddered and let out a whiny moan as you came onto his mouth. He grabbed onto your waist as he kissed your cunt and drank every drop you gave him. As you began to relax, he brought himself over you, littering you body with kisses.

“Rem,” you chuckled, “now you made yourself all worked up.” You grabbed hold of him under his pants. He was rock hard and it made your pussy throb just thinking about it inside you. He chuckled and kissed you.

“I’m saving it for you later. Wanna go on an adventure tonight?” Remus smirked, rubbing his thumb on your hip. You nodded eagerly. You wished you could just come to his dorm at night but it wasn’t exactly possible considering your brother slept three feet away from Remus.

“What time is it?” You asked, suddenly remembering you had class. Remus looked at his watch and sucked through his teeth.

“Uh, time for you to go love,” Remus chuckled as he watched you scramble out of his bed and fix your clothes.

“Remus! I told you I was going to be late, ” you scolded him, grabbing your bag and hurriedly putting your tie on. He only chuckled and gave you a kiss on the head as you ran out the door. He took his time getting ready for his class, which involved having a smoke until his dick got soft again. Remus spent the rest of the day in class thinking about you, daydreaming about how you would look tonight when he fucked you. Like a ghost wandering the castle halls, Remus brought himself back up to the dorm after his last class, immediately wanting to have another smoke. James and Sirius were already by the window when he came in.

“There he is Pads,” James chuckled, ashing his cig on the window sill, “go on and ask him.” Sirius’ brows were furrowed and he looked quite mad. Remus was confused until he saw your book in his hand.

“And what the fuck is this?” Sirius asked, shoving the book into Remus’ chest. Remus felt his heartbeat speed up. He was never one to enjoy lying.

“My book, you prat,” Remus quipped, nodding his head towards James to pass him a smoke. James looked thoroughly amused. Sirius let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Your book my ass! What is this then?” Sirius held up your bookmark decorated with a cute little pink bow, just like the one you wore in your hair. Remus was glad that James wasn’t the brightest because anyone who spent time with you knew you loved to tie your hair up with that exact shade of pink. Okay, maybe only Remus noticed, but he couldn’t help that you looked absolutely adorable with it.

“Erm, a bookmark,” Remus tried to play it off, focusing more on his smoke than looking either of the boys in the face. He’d been dreading James finding out, and wanted the right moment to do so. When you were ready to tell him.

“Yeah we can see that,” James laughed again, “but who’s the girl?”

Remus’ heart sank into his stomach. Fuck. James had her same smile, her eyes too. He couldn’t lie to his best friend, especially when it was his little sister he’d been fucking.

“I, um,” Remus choked on his words. Sirius squinted his eyes in scrutiny.

“I knew you’d been acting strange! All happy recently, I knew you had to have been getting some,” Sirius grumbled.

“No, no. It’s not like that,” Remus said quickly, unable to stop himself. It truly wasn’t like that, he was head over heels for you. You were so much more than a fuck to him, even if he did think about fucking you all day long. James eyes lit up.

“Moony, are you in love?” He clapped hands together and smiled, “why didn’t you tell us? Remus! Who is she?” James was positively beaming with excitement now, looking to Sirius who looked a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

“She doesn’t want anyone to know,” Remus cleared his throat, placing your book down on his bed. This was the truth at least. She didn’t want James knowing, mostly because she presumed he would be insanely controlling over their relationship. Remus wasn’t sure she would be wrong about that.

“But, we won’t tell anyone. We won’t, right Sirius?” James pleaded. Sirius rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement. Remus just chuckled uncomfortably and loosened his tie. He felt like he was choking in there.

“Sorry guys, I can’t break the ladies trust,” Remus turned away from the boys and started to change, effectively shutting down the conversation. Now, both Sirius and James were grumbling to themselves, unhappy with their lack of gossip. Remus let out a breath. That was the first time you two had slipped up. You’d have to be more careful.

“Well, if you seriously won’t tell us,” James sighed dramatically, “do you want to go get dinner?” Remus laughed and agreed, happy to spend time with the boys not thinking about his terribly kept secret. The three of them waltzed down to the great hall, making loud and obnoxious jokes at any opportunity they could find. Remus wasn’t quite sure how you and James were related sometimes, you seemed years older in maturity. Once they reached the Gryffindor table, the boys immediately sat out and began to grub. A few minutes in, James eyes lit up towards the entrance hall.

“Hi, Y/N,” James smiled and waved with food in his mouth. Remus heard you chuckle.

“Hi, Jamsie. You’re disgusting,” you stuck your tongue out at James as you passed by the boys. Remus turned around just enough to see your beautiful face and your perfect hair tied up with a pink bow. Shit. In the split second that Remus had before he turned to face James, he prayed to any and every god he could think of, hoping that James hadn’t noticed your bow. His reddening face and clenched jaw told Remus that he had, in fact, noticed. Sirius looked dumbstruck, shaking his head slowly at you as James stood up from the table.

“Y/N. Come here right now,” James growled, causing multiple heads at the table to turn. You stopped smiling and looked between James and Remus. Oh fuck.

[rafesbabygirlx]

𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 “𝙸’𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍” 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚢

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚢’𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚔𝚢𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 (𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐)

𝙰/𝚗- 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎. 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚣𝚣𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜! 💗

𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍

It was late in the evening, the golden glow of the sunset fading into the soft twilight spilling through the window. You sat cross-legged on your shared bed, phone clutched in your hand, grinning like a fool. Drew had been away for a few days, caught up in press junkets and interviews for Queer, the film that had just solidified his status as a powerhouse actor. It was all anyone could talk about, and you couldn’t help but revel in it.

For the last three years, you had been Drew’s partner in every sense of the word—his anchor, his confidant, and his biggest cheerleader. And now, seeing the world finally recognize what you’d known all along, you felt a swelling pride that had butterflies stirring in your stomach. It was intoxicating.

You had spent hours scrolling through Instagram, TikTok, Twitter—hell, you even Googled him to read every article, fan comment, and review. Some may think it’s obsessive. No. It was love. And joy. And pride.

Then, a curious link to Tumblr caught your eye. Clicking it, you discovered a treasure trove of fanfiction. Some of it was about his Outer Banks character, Rafe, but most of what you found centered on him. The words were vivid, raw, and dripping with the kind of unfiltered adoration you felt but never could articulate.

You devoured the stories, one after another. Heat crept up your neck as the authors painted vivid, intimate pictures of Drew—or Rafe. Hours later, your phone’s low-battery warning flashed. You didn’t even care.

It wasn’t until Drew’s voice broke through your concentration that you realized he was home.

“Hey, babe,” he called, stepping into the room. He looked every bit of a movie star—broad-shouldered, a perfect mix of rugged charm and boyish mischief in his eyes. You hadn’t even noticed the sound of the front door earlier.

Startled, you straightened up, quickly adjusting to sit with your back against the headboard. “You’re home early,” you said, your cheeks flushed.

“Caught you off guard?” he teased, stepping closer. “I missed you. What are you doing?”

You patted the space next to you. “Come here. You need to see this.”

Curious, Drew sat beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. “What is it?”

You handed him your phone, biting your lip as he started to read the story you’d just finished. His eyebrows lifted in surprise, and then a slow, amused chuckle escaped his lips. He ran his thumb and pointer finger down his mouth, shaking his head.

“That was, uh… interesting,” he said, his voice laced with amusement and just a hint of something else.

You couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face. “Right? They’re so good. Better than any of those smutty novels you tease me about. But only because they’re about you. I don’t have to drown out the descriptions of the characters to picture us.” Your voice dropped and you moved in close to his ear, your breath hitching slightly. “I don’t even have to imagine you. It’s you.”

Drew’s eyes darkened slightly as he registered the shift in your tone. His turned his head to look towards you, gaze flicked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

You moved quickly, straddling his lap. His hands instinctively settled on your hips as you leaned in, your lips grazing the edge of his jawline. “I’ve been reading these all day,” you whispered against his skin, your breath warm and tantalizing. “And they’ve got me… worked up. If you know what I mean.”

You pressed down against him, your arousal unmistakable. Drew’s hands tightened on your waist as a low groan escaped him.

“You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, though his voice was full of amusement and lust.

You kissed along his neck, your fingers threading through his hair. “Mmm, but you like it,” you teased, rolling your hips ever so slightly. “I want to have some fun.”

Drew tilted his head back, his grin laced with heat. “I’d say you’ve earned it.”

As you continued to tease him, Drew's hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at the touch, your lips finding his in a hungry kiss. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he stood up, lifting you with him.

"I've been thinking about you all day, didn’t think you were too. I couldn’t fucking wait to get home." Drew growled, his voice low and husky. "I've been thinking about fucking you, about making you scream my name."

You moaned, your body responding to his words, wrapping your arms around his neck. "These stories had me thinking about you too," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I've been thinking about your cock inside me, about feeling you fuck me senseless. Just like the one you just read.”

Drew smiled, his eyes burning with heat as he undressed you and laid you down on the bed. "Get on top of me now. Please, Drew," you whispered, your voice filled with desire. "I want to feel you inside me, I want you fuck me like you mean it."

Drew followed, undressing and positioning himself between your legs, his cock pressing against your entrance. "You want me to fuck you like I mean it?" he repeated, his voice dripping with filth. "You want me to make you feel like a slut?"

You nodded, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I want you to make me feel like a dirty little slut, I want you to make me feel like I'm yours."

Drew smiled, his eyes burning with heat as he entered you. "You are mine," he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're my dirty little slut.”

He bottomed out in you and immediately began his ravishing pace, the pads of his fingers found your clit, rubbing against it in a gentle, teasing touch. "You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his voice dripping with filth. "You like feeling like a dirty little slut, you like feeling like you're being fucked senseless."

You moaned, your body responding to his words. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Tell me then.”

"I love feeling like a dirty little slut, I love feeling like I'm being fucked senseless."

As he continued to move, his hands grasped your hips, holding you in place as he pounded into you. "All fours baby," he whispered, "I want you to feel me fuck you from every angle, I want you to scream my name."

Drew pulled out, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. "I want to hear you fucking scream when I fuck this pussy," he repeated, his voice dripping with filth. "You want me to make you feel like filthy whore?"

You nodded, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes," you whimpered, your voice barely audible. "I want you to make me feel like I'm yours to use and abuse."

Drew smiled, his eyes burning with heat as he entered you from behind. "You are mine to use and abuse," he growled, his voice low and husky. He was always good in bed, but between how hot and bothered you were from all the reading and Drew taking these fantasies out on you that you just became obsessed with, you didn’t know how much longer you could last.

As he moved, his hands grasped your hips, holding you in place as he pounded into you. You felt yourself building towards a climax, your body tensing as the pleasure grew. Drew reached his arm around you, his fingers finding place on your clit again.

He thrusts into you hard, fingers working in quick circles. You find yourself meeting his thrusts and it became hard to keep yourself up on your hands. “You scream out his name when you come and your upper half goes limp on the bed. He gives you a few minutes to come down from your high and catch your breath before he speaks again.

"We’re not done yet, ride me," Drew whispered, his voice is deep with desire. "I want you on top of me, I want you to use me to fuck yourself.”

You pick yourself up, moving towards him at the head of the bed as you straddle his hips. You sink down on his cock, it stretches you wide open, you sat for a moment as he peppered kisses along your neck. You began to move, your body bouncing up and down. He lifted his hands to your breasts, squeezing them as his fingers played with your nipples. The sensation was exhilarating, the pleasure building again as you moved.

As you continue to ride him, your legs began to tire and he could tell. Drew's hands moved and grasped your hips, guiding your body up and down keeping the momentum, you grew closer to climax and began clenching around him again.

"Fuck you feel so fucking good," he moaned out, his voice dripping with filth. "You're so beautiful, and tight, and so wet for me baby.”

You smiled, your lips curling up as you continued to move. It being the only thing you could do. No words seemed to be able to form. The heat inside you was building, growing with each move. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body tensing as the climax approached.

And then, in a burst of pleasure, you came, your body shuddering as you collapsed onto Drew's chest. He held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you caught your breath.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

"I love you too," Drew whispered back.

As you two settled in for the night you grabbed your phone and downloaded Tumblr immediately.

When I think of this, these are SOME fics flashing through my mind:

This blurb by @starkeyisthelastname

This blurb by @starkeyisthelastname

Trailerpark!Rafe by @starkeyisthelastname - clearly I’m in love with you

behind closed doors by @httpsdrewstarkey

the annual christmas sorority date auction by @starkeysprincess (and basically anything else she writes)

swipe, fuck, leave by @cameronsprincess (again, everything else she writes too)

breathe, baby by @rafescokewhore (including every other writing and her Drew series flights, I’ve read it 4x and still can’t get enough)

Taglist (including some moots 💞)- @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @megiiite @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @angelicameron @maybankslover @etheraltides @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @xdaughterofpersephonex @leather-n-velvet @mima116 @urbrunettebombshell @pogueprincesa @purplerose291 @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @starsmoonn @akobx @rafestify @marleymarleymarleymarley @littlelamy @diasnohibng @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @carolineisdelusional @rafeysangelbaby @nemesyaaa

[backtothefanfiction]

Nicknames

Summary; explaining where you and Felix get your nicknames for each other from.

Warnings: fluff, tragic backstory, neglect, sibling bullying

A/N: the whole point of the Summer at Saltburn shorts is that you can read them in any order and they make sense but this is probably one with the most context as to why reader lives/spends their school holidays at Saltburn.

Summers at Saltburn Masterlist

You can’t remember a single summer you haven’t spent at Saltburn. Even as a kid, before your father ran off to South America (when he came under investigation for embezzling company funds), you had always spent some time at your Godfather’s house; because his kids were the same age as you. You were the youngest of four, a “happy” accident 6 years after your older brother had been born. He was supposed to be the baby of the family, not you and the age difference between you and them (they all had only a year or two between them) made them cruel.

Felix had started to call you Daisy in response to hearing your older brothers and sister refer to you as Oopsy at one of his parents parties.

“Why do you call her Daisy, my darling?” Elspeth had asked her son when she realised he’d started to refer to you exclusively as the small yet resilient dainty flower.

“Because her family call her oopsy, as in oopsy Daisy.” He says through a mouthful of food.

“Oh how horrible. Is that true darling?” She says turning towards you. Elspeth had always treated you as if you were one of her own and the thought of people being so cruel to you made her blood simmer under her collected exterior.

You paused before saying “yes,” unable to look her in the eyes.

“Well,” she said, patting your hand that lay resting on the table between the two of you, “I much prefer Daisy, because you are. You are beautiful and strong and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

——————/////—————

You had taken to calling Felix “Fix” only a few summers back, when he finished secondary school and brought his first school friend home for the summer. It wasn’t until another 3 summers later and Felix brought Oliver home for the summer that he finally asked you why.

You had decided to hide yourself in the field in hope of actually trying to get through one of the books you’d brought with you to read this summer. You actually hated the field. It had a very specific rule, if you were going to lie out in the field, you have to do it naked. It wasn’t the rule itself that made you hate it, but the fact you always seemed to get bit by something hiding in the long grass.

You’d managed to sneak away and remain undetected for all of 30 minutes (which was a new kind of record because searching the whole house for someone could take up to an hour at times) before Felix came stalking across the field towards you.

“Clothes.” You called out from behind your book.

He was silent as he stripped off his polo shirt and shorts before stomping through the long grass towards you. He remained silent as you continued to read but his fidgety fingers and legs told you there was something he wanted to talk about.

“Just say it.” You say, your eyes pausing at the end of a paragraph to make sure you wouldn’t lose your spot, hoping his question would have a quick answer and you could go back to the novel in your hand.

“Why do you call me Fix?” He says.

It’s not a question you were expecting and find yourself dropping your book into your lap to turn and look at him. “I thought it was obvious.” You say, peering over the tops of your sunglasses at him.

“Well apparently it’s not.” He replies.

“It’s because you like to fix people.” You say, lifting your book back up to your eyes, figuring it was answer enough, but alas, Felix protested.

“I don’t like to fix people.” He scoffs and as you look over the top of your book at him, you can see the small scowl forming on his face around his furrowed brow.

“Oh yeah?” You say before you both get distracted by the sound of another pair of feet making their way across the field towards you. You look to see Oliver making his way towards you both and it’s like the god’s have just handed this to you on a plate. “Ahhh look,” you say, seizing the opportunity, “here comes exhibit C.” You say to Felix, before shouting a reminder of “Clothes!” At Oliver.

Felix doesn’t say any more about it that afternoon, but when he corners you that evening before dinner, he has to ask. “Okay, so if Ollie is exhibit C, I’m assuming Michael was exhibit B…” he pauses as he waits for you to give him a small nod of confirmation before he asks, “Who’s exhibit A?”

“Me.” You say, as if it’s obvious. One look at his face tells you that you’ve stunned him into silence. Your face is calm and confident as you make your way into the dining room, leaving him alone in the hallway to ponder his thoughts.

[sugarandspicewriting]

I am humbly requesting some headcanons for Genshin women,,, can I get Ei and Arlecchino dating hcs, I am asking for myself.

Anything for you pookie

Summary: General dating hcs for Ei and Arlecchino

Warnings: Does Scaramouche count as a warning. 828 words.

A/N: Arlecchino's section includes Scara and is set before he erased himself.

Arlecchino

You’d have to be a high ranking member of the Fatui or a harbinger to get close to her.

She’d have to come to like you on her own terms. No amount of flirting or seduction is going to get her to like you if she doesn’t already. 

She will not waste her time on you if she doesn’t see value in you. So if she does express romantic interest in you, it’s probably because your goals are closely aligned.

That being said, the way she flirts/shows affection can be vaguely threatening.

“Can you run in those shoes?” 

“What?”

“I said, can you run in those shoes? It would be horrible if something were to happen to you…”

Hey queen! What did you mean by that.

Anyways, romantic threats aside,  she’s very old fashioned in her courting rituals.

She absolutely calls it courting

SHe carefully arranges dates for the two of you. You really should be grateful she makes time for you in her busy schedule.

She enjoys inviting you to her residence in Fontaine at the hearth and drinking tea with you while chatting. 

She takes you on walks to places where she’s noticed beautiful scenery.

She keeps correspondence with you through letters when she’s away

But in the brief moments you get alone, she is open to receiving  physical affection.

She enjoys having you on her lap. To her it represents the power she holds over you. If you’re lucky she’ll allow you to do it while she’s working at her desk.

“Are you a child?” Scaramouche sneered. His face contorted into a look of disgust. Arlecchino continued writing, choosing not to dignify his statement with a response. You tore your gaze away from the iron cast  flickering fireplace from your spot on her lap.  

It wasn’t a good idea to indulge Scaramouche by replying to his insults, but the compromising position he had found you in left you feeling defensive.

“And what if I am?” you retorted, your voice steady despite the irritation bubbling within. “It’s better than being an insufferable fool.” Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more.

“If you two are quite done,” Arlecchino’s voice rang out from behind you. “I have work to finish. Do say what you came for and leave Scaramouche.”

She isn’t a conversationalist, but she’ll allow you to discuss whatever you’d like. If anyone else wanted to discuss their favorite light novel with her, she wouldn’t allow it. But you get the privilege of discussing trivial things with her. 

If she has the time, she might even read the novel herself.

A relationship with Arlecchino would be unconventional, but it’s not something she’s concerned about. If a conventional relationship is what you wanted, you’d be with someone else.

Ei

You would need to be someone who worked in Tenshukaku. Ei very rarely leaves and doesn’t have anything romantic on her mind when she does. 

Yae will probably have to help her decipher her feelings. After having spent so much time in the plane of euthymia she would have forgotten how it feels to like someone in that way.

“I cannot recall ever feeling this way about anyone else. Just simply being around them brings me great joy. I find myself wanting to experience new things with them, and add them into my definition of eternity. What does this mean?”

“Ei… you’re so childish sometimes.”

Once she stumbles her way through her confession, she likes to give you little trinkets she finds when she does leave, or even something she finds around the building.

One day she might give you a rock that reminded her of the color of your eyes, another time she might give you an exorbitantly expensive necklace she saw on one of her rare outings. 

As someone who has been alive for hundreds of years and has her sights set on eternity,she sees both of those gifts as equally valued, and expects you to see them that way as well.

It’s important for you to help her get out of her head sometimes. If she had it her way she’d keep you in Tenshukaku, or even the plane of Euthymia at all times to keep you safe. She knows that’s not what you would want, so she won’t but she worries about you.

She enjoys sharing meals with you. Every time she discovers a new treat, her first thought is to share it with you.

“Have you tried this before? It’s called Daifuku. It’s a mochi stuffed with sweet filling! Doesn’t that sound delicious?”

“Ei, I thought we were supposed to be eating dinner, not dessert.”

“Not every meal has to be particularly nutritious. The Shogun doesn’t know everything.”

“Ei!”

Being with Ei as a mortal being will be an interesting experience. She doesn’t like when things change, and she knows you won’t always be around. But she is more than happy with spending a moment in her eternity with you.

[strawberrystepmom]

inspired by this thought i had yesterday! modern au, coworker kakashi. f!reader, flirtation, mostly fluff. wc 1.3k

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune as usual ♡

You hear footsteps headed toward the edge of your desk that make you look up from where you type quickly, finishing firing off the latest round of emails that could have been resolved with a simple phone call. Most of these issues don’t even need your attention, you think while firing off minimal responses and sighing. Glancing up, you spot two gray eyes peeking over the top of the cubicle surrounding you and you laugh knowing exactly who they belong to.

“Hi Ka-”

Kakashi interrupts you when he raises his brows and holds a worn copy of the book the two of you have spent the week reading over the top of the partition, a woman wrapped in the arms of a caricature of a muscular man while tipping her head back to present her neck to him. Your face heats seeing the cover where everyone else can see it too and you shoot him a glance, begging with your eyes and hoping he’ll lower the book.

“Don’t forget this time.”

“It was one time,” you instantly jump to defend yourself after missing the book club yesterday. You got caught up on a call that was impossible to sneak away from and you received a text message from the man himself later in the day, his eyes visible over the cover of the book. It was hard to keep your laughter to yourself upon seeing it, snorting alone at your desk.

Missed you today, the accompanying text read.

The message made you ponder the meaning between the words themselves. You enjoy his company in a way you never thought you would, most of your coworkers warning you that he’s a little bit of an oddball, but the two of you clicked and have never looked back. He even organized this little club in an effort to get you to step away from work more often, knowing you’re frequently the last person left in the building long after the rest of the lights are out.

“Luckily for you I’m finishing up right now,” you snip and he watches you reach down into your bag and produce a paperback novel matching his. You can’t see his smile, it’s hidden below the partition because you know he’s bending his knees to keep only his eyes visible, but the way those very eyes crinkle a bit at the corners tells you everything you need to know.

“Good because we have a lot of ground to cover,” he mutters. “They…you know.”

He waggles his brows and you nod, smirking. They did indeed…you know…in the latest chapter and you’ve been dying to talk about it with him after 35 previous chapters of intense build up and back and forth. A teeny glimmering hope in you almost wants the book to be drawing parallels to your own life but you don’t want to make something out of a simple workplace friendship - two oddballs carving out space for themselves side by side.

That does sound a little romantic now that you think about it, doesn’t it?

“Come on then, we only have 15 minutes.”

Broken from your reverie by his words, you nod and smile, standing up and stretching a little as you hurry around the corner and to his side. He looks good today, neatly pressed gray pants and a navy blue sweater that hugs his arms in a way you noticed immediately seeing him, and your face heats again. Why is it so hard for you to accept that he’s merely your friend? 

The two of you walk in comfortable silence to the break room, plopping down in the chairs that HR insisted were placed there to make you comfortable and not because they had a complaint about there being no seating in here prior, submitted by Kakashi himself. They don’t know that, of course, but you do and you settle in, risking another glance at your companion.

“Alright so when we left off, he was admitting his feelings, right?”

You nod, pulling your own book open to the dog eared page you’d left it on. He notices immediately, watching you untuck the corner, and scoffs.

“Use the bookmark I gave you, do you know how long I had to dig in bargain bins to find two copies of this book?”

He holds up the book, Domesticating the Duke, and stares at you incredulously. Despite yourself, you laugh. Gleeful and from the bottom of your heart, in a way that no one else has managed to draw from you.

“You’re right. I need to make sure the little puppy covered bookmark stays in the book but sadly today it’s on my kitchen table so for now we are doing this,” you raise the book and thumb through the pages, showing him the other dog eared corners and making him cringe.

“Why do I hang out with you?”

Shrugging, you shift in the chair and let one of your smart casual loafers hang off of your foot. He likes to see you so comfortable, too used to seeing the way your back is hunched over your desk. He could look at you like this forever, easy going smile and one arm dangling over the arm of the chair. You make his mind feel…different and not in the usual way. You make him feel challenged yet met, comfortable yet disturbed, whole yet confused.

It’s a lot to take in.

“I dunno, you said yesterday you missed me so what is the truth Hatake?”

He laughs now, carding his fingers through his hair.

“I did miss you. We’re getting to the best parts and you ditched me.”

You gasp, putting the book in your lap and leaning forward to close some of the distance between the two of you.

“I did not! I was on an quarterly analytics call, something you also should have probably been on mister operations analyst.”

He shrugs, flip as ever. He’s only here to do the work he’s assigned to do and not go the extra mile like you feel the need to. 

“The world didn’t stop because I wasn’t there so clearly things are fine.”

How can you argue? He’s right so you back down, leaning back into the chair and picking up your book again. He sets his copy down now, on the arm of his chair, and places his hands on his thighs in a way you know means he has something to say. He’s full of quirks, all of which you’ve found yourself figuring out quickly.

“Since we’re getting to some less work appropriate parts of the book I wanted to ask if you’d rather do this after work,” he finally spits out after a few beats of silence. “If not, I get it but we should probably start picking cleaner books if that’s the case.”

You smile, dipping your chin to hide it.

“I’d love that, actually.”

It feels wrong to assume this is his way of asking you on a date but given the blush covering the bridge of his nose and the pink touching the visible tips of his ears, that’s exactly what just happened.

“Great. We can just hang out for the next 10 minutes then and we can discuss the actual points of interest at my place later, if that’s okay?”

You nod again, still keeping your face partially hidden. This is what you’ve been hoping all of these 15 minute moments, the 30 minute lunch conversations, would turn into and you feel giddy like a little girl. 

Choosing to pick the book back up to spend the last 10 or so minutes of your break reading, you open to the last page you remember looking at and scan over the words. They don’t grab you immediately so you look up over the top of the book, only to be met with a pair of gray eyes doing the exact same thing. Sneaking a glance.

[aka-indulgence]

Worth the Effort (You Are)

As I’ve said before, I’ve been in a Really Romantic mood lately, and I just wanna…. be with Sans….. ouhghug….. i lov him….. also I just so happen to have written and finished this around valentines day! It’s not a valentine’s fic but. It’s very soft… romantic fluff… hehehee ://>

Ao3 (because it is Longe): https://archiveofourown.org/works/45076489

———————

It was an exciting day.

You tie a white sash around your waist, and tie your hair back. Styling your hair?

The baby blue dress you were wearing was adorable. It was really flattering for your form, and you look like if a flower had spontaneously turned into a human.

A special day.

Sans had asked you on a date. One that he planned out, one that he said was like “what you’d expect from a romance movie. novel. mettaton’s dating ma- no maybe not that one.”

Any date with Sans was a special occasion. Time spent with your wonderful, loving bonefriend was something you cherished. But Sans was putting effort to change things up, to impress you with something new. Not that you needed it, but the fact that he was doing it for you makes your heart flutter.

He said he wouldn’t even teleport for it, that he’d have a special ride for you. You don’t know what he could mean by that… usually you’d assume him to be alluding to teleporting (the first time he’d say that line was when he showed you his teleportation powers. Your jaw had dropped on the floor that first time.), but he already said he wasn’t. You spend your time nervously waiting for him to arrive pondering what kind of ‘ride’ he’s bringing. Of course, Sans never showed interest in vehicles… why would he, if he already has the most efficient method of transfer already, what… ingrained in his very soul? Maybe he borrowed Papyrus’ car? Or… maybe he is planning to surprise you with a car…?

You doubt it. Sans is crafty as much as he is lazy. He strives for convenience.

You don’t doubt however, that Sans was going to be on time. He promised that he’s going to arrive today on time. So you relax on the window-side seat, not looking out of it, as if he was going to come faster if you did, no. You actually relax a bit, not paying attention to the time, and start to snooze a little… woken up by the knocks on your door. You practically bounce off the seat like a spring, opening the door with a smile on your face that somehow gets wider when you see the soft skull of the man you loved so much.

Even better, he was wearing a tux shirt, and long jeans. Sans, mixing up his wardrobe? No.

“Sans!” You waste no time to wrap your arms around him (well, to the best of your ability) in a warm hug.

Look at your handsome man!!!

“are you surprised? i promised,” Sans winks. Sure enough, you fish out your phone and it shows you the lock screen.

“On time, to the dot!” You announce excitedly.

Sans snickers a little. “if you were looking at a clock…”

… “Don’t tell me you knocked right when the second hand made it all click.”

“yes.”

You laugh delightedly at that, wishing you were looking at an analog clock to see that, it would’ve been amazing.

“Well, I say I’m impressed, but… you’ve always been good at being ‘on time’,” You say slyly, as if you were trying to undermine his feat. Sans can see in your smile that you weren’t doing it to be mean. “You’ve been pretty good at keeping your promises to come on time.”

He was on time, sure… but he’d like to cut it close. If this was another date, Sans would come to you just a few seconds before the time he promised he’d take you out somewhere- say, a restaurant, and appear before a very shaken receptionist and tell them about his reservation (that was about to be cancelled).

“you know me. i hate promises, i don’t make them lightly.” Sans makes a solemn expression. “but i always make promises to you. you make it easy for me to keep them.”

… Damn this man, your heart was feeling all sorts of mushy and soft for him before the date’s even gotten off the ground properly.

Sans can’t blame you for having to immediately kiss him (right now!!). In fact, the skeleton seems quite happy to have you furiously kissing him on the teeth.

“You look!! So good!” You say as soon as you’re done attacking him, picking at his shirt. “tux shirt. Simple, but dapper.”

You’re only half-joking.

“ah… you as well,” Sans’ smile turns warmer, seeing your dress.

Of course Sans would appreciate your clothes, but you still feel giddy anyway, giving him a little twirl. “You like it?”

“i love it.” Sans tells you emphatically. “it’s cute… an’ pretty. you trying to match my magic?”

“Absolutely.” You answer confidently, pecking him one more time on the cheekbone, which he rubs affectionately, chuckling.

“Well!” You clap your hands, challenge in your tone. “Where’s this ride you’ve been promising me? It better live up to the hype!”

Sans chuckles at your enthusiasm, then steps back away from the door and makes a grand waving motion at the thing just on the road in front of your home.

“our ride, my lady.” He bows dramatically.

You’re… actually too stunned to speak. The blue ride Sans was showing you was… a tricycle. An honest to god tricycle.

“H… h,” you wheeze gently, “you didn’t,” you breathe as you approach the (relatively) little thing.

“i did.”

When you look it over, you could see that it was modified. It was larger than a little kiddy tricycle, but not as big as a proper bicycle. The seat was so that it could fit two people comfortably (and you mean comfortably. Sans wasn’t… a small man). Other than that it looked like a regular tricycle.

When you turn to look at Sans, he looks so proud.

“What a–” cute “--silly use of your engineering degree. I love it.”

“no core, a bore,” Sans shrugs, as if that little detail in his credentials was some everyday thing that many monsters had. “well… not really. but it’s been a while since i really… used that degree for anything. might as well for my favorite human, huh?”

You don’t doubt that your eyes were sparkling at him when he says that. You spend a minute or so just admiring the tricycle.

“Did you build it from scratch or…?”

“nah. that’d be tire-ing.” Sans sighs, “I’d rather tri something else.”

“L-”

“like we should get a move on before it gets too late. we better get this show on the road before we spend an entire day lazing around your house.”

“... Who are you and what did you do to Sans?”

“heheheh,”

As much as you’d like to tease him about it, he’s right. Sans prepared… “Stuff” for you, and you’d like to appreciate it.

So you do.

“Let’s go then, Mr. chauffeur, take me to our destination!” You declare confidently, glance at the tricycle, then less confidently “.... can you tell me how to sit in this?”

—————

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so nervous riding a tricycle before.

You’re sat behind Sans, and though you’re about the same height as him, his broad shoulders made it so it was a bit hard to look over them. Your hands couldn’t circle him properly, so you had your hands scrunching up his shirt. It didn’t take too long before you got used to it though, and your brain didn’t keep thinking that you’d fall out of the generous seat.

You would think that riding a tricycle around the city, it would take a while to get anywhere, but surprisingly, Sans kept up good speed. He even overtakes a couple of cars while he pedaled, and even from behind him you could see the shit-eating grin growing on his face whenever someone in the cars makes a double take at the sight. You’d covered your mouth then, a move that made Sans even more proud.

You wondered how he did it. And how Sans didn’t seem to struggle at all. Leg day, maybe?

The idea of Sans doing any sort of exercise seriously, perhaps even specifically so he could use the tricycle was a hilarious mental image.

By the time you’ve arrived, you barely recognize your surroundings. You’re at a nice big park… somewhere? And after Sans parks the trike,

(“don’t worry, no one’s going to steal a tricycle. that’s a bit trite don’t you think?” “I mean. If you say no one’s going to nab it…”)

(Sans somehow fits the tricycle into the regular bicycle parking rack.)

He brings you up to a scenic hill that looks like it came out straight out of a movie. Overlooking the rest of the park, with a big shady tree on it.

It’s a good thing you came earlier, because today was the perfect weather to be out, and no one had taken the prime space yet. The sun’s getting high on the sky, but you won’t be bothered under the shade.

He leads you there, then takes his hand away. “wait here. be right back in a jiff,” Sans mentions, and he walks behind the tree. He takes more than a jiff, a couple of seconds, and when he reemerges from the other side you stifle a snort.

He looks like a whirlwind, a plaid red and white blanket thrown over his skull, and a picnic basket swinging from one hand…

A picnic!!

Old memories resurface, of always wanting to do a traditional picnic that you saw often while watching shows and movies as a kid. With a blanket and matching picnic basket… tea cup set… lovely company. You never got to and you didn’t think you’d have the motivation, but here you were, with Sans providing it for you.

“A picturesque picnic?” You thought out loud, “That’s so sweet!”

“hey you haven’t even seen what’s inside the basket.” Sans places it down, and spreads the blanket over the grass. “and i mean… paps helped me pick out the stuff, so i think he should get some of the credit.”

“Credit for what?”

“getting good grades on ‘dating’,”

“Am I dating the both of you???”

“no it’s an individual project… but doesn’t hurt to have a brother who reads all about dating.”

The basket Sans brought wasn’t small by all accounts, but Sans fitted more into it than you thought it could. You take them out and spread them over the blanket. You squeed in delight, having some of your favorite light dishes around you, along with the picnic staples: sandwiches, fruits, and of course one (1) teapot.

As you look around though, you have to ask… “Are you sure you like this stuff, Sans?”

Sans pauses, hand stuck in the basket. “huh? of course i do. i wouldn’t bring it if i didn’t. besides,” He materializes a hotdog from the basket, “i came prepared with my usual.”

It was a sight, to have him bring out the ketchup bottle out and sblort, there goes the ketchup on the sausage, against the backdrop of a very proper looking picnic.

Well… almost. Wasn’t like your favorites didn’t include something ‘unhealthy and greasy’...

“had to sneak this in. i’d already promised paps that i was gonna plan out a romantic picnic and he left me to it for the most part… but he wouldn’t have approved of this particular meal choice.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” You agreed, eyeing his hotdog with a little more drool than you’d care to admit. “Do you have… more…?”

“wouldn’t be a thoughtful boyfriend if i didn’t think about that now, would i?” Sans’ sockets gleam as he procures another delicious processed meat product.

You spend your picnic appreciating all the stuff Sans brought (doing your best not to shove it all down your face), pleasantly surprised that Sans made most of it by hand.

“also, papyrus was there. … i promise, i made the main stuff, even if paps tried to stage a coup against me,”

“Hahaha!”

It was very thoughtful, and it made you feel very special that this skeleton with a lazybones reputation kept proving to you day by day that you were someone worth a lot of effort, even if you didn’t need something grand.

Eventually the topic of his tricycle came up again.

“i’ve had that tricycle for a while, actually. ever since we surfaced,”

“No way, really?” you looked back towards the bike parking area, though you couldn’t actually see the vehicle in question. “I was convinced you bought and built that tricycle for this date.”

You’re afraid you might’ve sounded disappointed, because Sans waves his hands frantically. “no no, that was for you. it wasn’t all… professionally approved for actual distance travel, before. i did that for this,” he gestures at the picnic. “no… it used to be a very normal tricycle. and no, not the one for adults. lil kiddy trike.”

You think about the tricycle now, upsized and fit for two people. You try to imagine what it might’ve looked like back then, while Sans stayed the same… on a kiddy tricycle…

Your mouth turns into a squiggly line. “B… but why? I’ve… I’ve never even seen you on something remotely like a bike,”

“i can show you,” Sans fishes his phone out of his pocket, smile going up to his sockets. “you wanna know how big ‘ol me fit on it, right?”

“Yes!” you answer emphatically as Sans scrolls through his gallery. It takes him a while before his sockets widen in an a-ha! expression.

“here it is… sweet surfacing memories,” Sans says, turning the screen to you as he looks up wistfully to the sky.

Your face is flat as you stare at the image on the phone, hands unconsciously coming up to it, taking it away from Sans. You just had to take a closer look.

It was… a glorious picture. The image quality was surprisingly crisp and sharp where it mattered, considering the motion blur you could see at the edges of it. There, was an image of Sans, his shit-eating grin wide on his face as he winks for the camera, and though it was cut off you could see how tiny the tricycle looked like under him, And behind, there was Papyrus, in his sports car, all shiny and new with the hood down and Papyrus was… god, his eyes were popping out of his skull, mouth opened in frozen agony, fists furious at the wheel. You honestly think you could hear the “SAAAAANS!!!” he must undoubtedly be screeching in the image.

Sans laughs along with you when you burst, throwing your head back, one hand to your chest- he was trying to kill you!- half-mindedly handing him back his phone.

Again, “B… but why!?” You ask even more desperately than before.

“screwing with my younger brother, obviously.” He rolls his eyelights in teasing ‘duh’. “pap always wanted to have a sports car like that, you already knew he used to have a racecar bed back in the underground. early after we surfaced, pap got his dream come true in that car and wanted to take a test… victory ride around the city highways. i gave him some time to indulge on it himself but.. i couldn’t resist to ruin it… maybe just a little,”

There was the glint in his sockets, in the way his grin was lifted, the expression that Sans had when he just found a brand new pun or when he was waiting for you to realize what he just tricked you into. Even though you’ve fallen for something many a time when he did it, he always looked adorable when he made that face- happy.

“couldn’t let my brother have his joy ride on his own could i? so i found my own- shortcutted all around the city for bicycle stores… toy stores… for the perfect tricycle. i needed something that was practical but still funny enough, something that’d look small for me, and i found it. as soon as i did i chased him, and once i found him, i overtook him.”

His sockets crinkled as he looks to the side, no doubt looking at the memory in his mind’s eye. “he was so pissed. you know my brother, so cool, he was stamping his leg and flailing his hands while the car kept cruisin’ on as if he was still driving it. i rode off into the sunset before he did, and when i got home he’d stopped at undyne’s house, sitting on the porch, looking like a storm. undyne was trying to comfort him but… i think i even got her, because she broke out into a laugh when she saw my trike.”

He sighs happily. “told her i was here to pick up my bro. paps left in a huff and said I CAN TAKE MYSELF HOME ALONE!!”

You laugh- surprised and not at the same time, and you don’t bother trying to keep it ‘polite’. You weren’t expecting the frighteningly good impression of his brother form Sans, and the story itself was hilarious- something you absolutely expected from Sans.

“You’re an asshole!” You say, pointing an accusatory finger at him. Sans doesn’t take offense.

“sure was. pap tried real hard to stay mad at first, for ruining his moment… but i apologized to him while sitting on my trike. i don’t think he could resist seeing something like that. i broke him when i honked the horn.”

“There was a horn?!” You repeat, disbelieving.

“yeah.

“Where’d it go?

“oh, i took it off, for the… for the occasion.” Sans rubs the back of his neck. “didn’t feel like it’d fit..?”

Hm… probably right.

But, “You should put it back on after!” you encourage, “I wanna ride around in it with you more! And I think the faces people make when you honk at them are going to be funnier after they get over their shock.”

Sans perks up at that, like he wasn’t expecting it. “r… really?” then, hesitantly, “you… you actually like that thing?”

“Of course I do, you made it for us!” You announce cheerfully. “And I really want to ride around the city with you… it was actually pretty relaxing.”

Of course you liked being with Sans anywhere, and his teleportation was great you could go from one place to another in an instant without having to worry if you’d ever be late, but… you also liked taking your time to just be around him, and since Sans rarely ever took rides… it was pretty romantic to be riding behind him while he cycled around.

You add that. “And I like spending time with you,”

His grin was minimal now, something that’d worry you… if his cheeks hadn’t started dusting blue, spreading across his face.

“i…. same,” He eventually smiles again, holding his cheek tenderly. “i love you.”

“I love you too.” You answered so fast it was almost automatic.

Sans sits there in silent for a moment, the sound leaves rustling quietly in the wind, along with the ambient noise of the park. Then, he seems to get an idea.

“you know what else you love though...”

Oh no. That grin wasn’t a good sign.

(It was a Funny sign.)

“you love food so much you’ve been stealing it from your own datemate.” He puts his hand on his sternum and makes a melodramatic face. “i’m hurt.”

“What..?”

When you turn to look, all the leftovers have somehow been piled onto your plate in the blink of an eye. You’re surprised it doesn’t topple.

“Wh, how did that all get here?!”

“i get eating condiments with excitement, i really do, you know me, but… that whipped cream was for sharing, sweet-toots.”

“Huh???” Was your reaction, until you saw the whipped cream beside you. “I was!! Putting it on the cake earlier!!”

“ravenous.” Sans is ignoring your desperate pleas! “you can still see the remnants of the crime…” He’s tapping on the side of his teeth. Sure enough, you had whipped cream there.

“And you have the crime of breaking the laws of physics!” You shoot back, ‘walking’ towards him on your knees, “time to go to jail, bone man!”

“oh no, are you going to whip me- augh!!” Was Sans’ anguished cry (mixed in with a surprised laugh) when you smack him softly on the cheek, trying to jab him anywhere you can. You were (not actually) annoyed and you were trying to make your case clear! Sans answers back with jabs on his own, and though he had thick bones and bigger hands, he was… playing as nice as one Sans would allow. Then, he found his way to his tickle spots.

“Sans, no!”

You end up playfully stuck to each other, trying to shove and tickle and push and pull at each other, to get the upper hand.

“Get your hands-! Not there!”

“if you surrender first, food stealer,”

“For the last time I did not steal your food!!”

“whipped cream sprayer,”

“I didn’t-! Argh!!”

You give Sans a hard shove. And this time he doesn’t get up- you see him attempt, of course, but he starts tilting back over the hill, you can see his expression turn from playful to huh?? And you try to catch him, one hand going over to protect his skull and the other around his waist (sort of), but he’s tilted too far… and his hands had automatically caught you…

Well. You end up rolling down the hill together, a blur of blue and black, picnic left alone on top. You squeaked and Sans was huffing as you both spinned, eventually slowing down to a halt, with you on top of Sans.

You were in a tangle of limbs. Apparently both of you had the same idea- keep the other one safe. Although you can’t imagine your tiny hands could be of much help to Sans, who’s thick arms did wonderful as a defensive pillow around you.

You stare at each other in stunned-silence for a little while. Maybe a bit longer.

You only seemed to snap out of it when you saw a blade of grass on Sans’ cheek and tried to thumb it away- only to realize your hand was stuck under Sans skull. And when you tried to use the other one, it was also stuck under Sans’ back.

Your face scrunched up and so did Sans. And then you both burst out in laughter, ignoring your trapped hands.

“r…. ribcaged!!” Sans was wheezing, the power of his laughter making you shake a little on top of him, while your own laughing certainly made you look like you were vibrating.

“I was trying to keep your skull safe and this is the thanks I get?” You’d jab him in the sternum if you could, but alas, your hands were indeed, ribcaged.

Sans mirrors you, putting one hand on your head, lifting his back a little so you could free your hands (before they start falling asleep). You fold them on top of him, smiling while he’s still giggling, his sockets shut.

“oh my god,” Sans says, like he’s had a revelation, rubbing one phalange under his socket. “are we… are we in a romcom? or… straight up romantic movie?”

He was hehehehing all the way, and you really didn’t want him to stop.

“What if we are?” You shrug. “We’ve got real attractive leaads…”

“heheheh… yeah we do,”

Sans draws his hands back around you while you giggle, and when his hand settles over your head, you struggle a little to stop yourself from smiling when he leans in. You meet his teeth with your lips, and it was a joy to feel that he was having trouble too, feeling his expression on his teeth.

You’re so happy. You’re so happy you get to do silly, adorable couple stuff with someone that you really cared about.

… Somewhere deep in your mind, you think “We’re lucky Alphys and Undyne aren’t around to see this… they’d be taking pictures like paparazzi, and you’re sure they’d squee about it with each other.”

—————

You spent some time canoodling with Sans a bit longer, until you both abruptly remembered your picnic stuff when a dog had come up, sniffing around. Most of it have been eaten of course, so nothing got sacrificed… but you supposed it was time for you retire home. It was afternoon now and families have started getting to the park, which was less peaceful. Nice, but not quiet.

“i mean it would be nice to see the sunset… but i don’t think you’d have much fun overheating under the sun.” Sans said, on the matter while he stacked the utensils back into the basket. (He had insisted he do the stacking. By the way he put emphasis on it, you feel like it’s either a pun, or a story he hadn’t told you about.)

When you came back to the parked tricycle, he looked like he’s still feeling shy about it and had half a mind to just teleport you home, but you remind him how much you want to ride around with him, and he concedes.

“You should take me sunset riding. Next time maybe?” You talked over him, hair waving in the wind. He had gone up a flyover and you were admiring the view, the tall buildings all around you. Maybe he didn’t think you could see it, but you could see the blue spreading on his face again. It took him a while before he answered you with “yes. definitely, next time…”

It felt like the ride home was all too fast, and you had the same feeling in your stomach as you do when you were a kid, waking up right before your car arrives home. It doesn’t keep you down though, as you practically skip your way towards home, with Sans holding onto your arm like a proper gentleman.

You take off your shoes at the door and untie your sash, standing around the entry way. “Aw Sans, that was great! Food’s good, cool ride,” Sans ducks his skull a bit, glancing away, “even better skeleton. It…. it was a special date. Thanks Sans,”

You give him a peck on the cheek, and you love seeing the little gesture has him being faintly blue, though he has a confident smile and his eyelights were glowing brightly.

“it’s… don’t mention it. i told you i gotta romantic bone in me…”

“I knew that!” You giggled, reminding him that “It’s Papyrus that didn’t think you had a romantic bone!”

You shake your head. “But look at you now… you put together a bunch of meals for us, bought matching basket and blanket, got here on time, and you modified an entire tricycle that you only planned to use as a joke.”

Your heart feels full as you say, “You always know how to make me feel special.”

His grin drops again, averting his gaze. This scene… it makes you smile, how even after a year of dating this goober, it still feels as if you two were two kids who’s crushing on each other. He takes your hands in his, and when his eyelights turn to look back at you, you could see they were in the shape of hearts.

“you’re always worth the effort, starlight.”

Ah… that lovely nickname.

He brings your hands to his teeth in a gentleman kiss. You’re squeeing and shaking in place, you don’t want to let go of Sans’ hands right now.

“Oh, I can’t wait to be able to have revenge on you, grr… who would’ve guessed the whoopie cushion would be so good at romance?”

Sans taps his chin, looking around your house as if he were judging it. “hm…. i can think of a few ways you could repay me.” Sans says, after much pondering. “ya know my legs are real tired from all that pedaling… i don’t think i have enough strength to go home right now…”

You smile at him. You’re too happy to try to challenge his reasoning- even to jokingly ask him “but you can teleport?”

As if he was expecting you to turn him away however, Sans has chosen to close the distance and dramatically lay (part) of his weight on you.

“Wh- hey! Get off!! Sans you can stay, but I’m not going to have a lot of fun if you end up crushing me on my front door!”

“.....” Sans doesn’t answer. Instead,

“zzzzzz……”

“Oh my god!”

You get into ‘Playful Fight Round Two’, but it doesn’t last as long, and there were no scenic romantic hills to roll over, as you settled into Sans’ arms, walking over to the very comfy sofa that could very well rival his old one back at his house.

“this is the best repayment ever, and you’re the best girlfriend ever,” Sans says. You both settle into a couch cuddle, with Sans as the big spoon, TV turned on as background noise. “happy anniversary, starlight.”

He kisses your cheek. The edges of your lips quirk up. Though they were getting tired from how much you smiled today, you don’t have it in you to care.

“Happy anniversary, Sans.”

[raphsmuneca]

𝓔𝓮𝓷𝔂, 𝓜𝓮𝓮𝓷𝔂, 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝔂, 𝓜𝓸𝓮

[Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe] Pt. 2: Leo’s Version

NSFW/18+/suspense/romance/fluff/agedturtles

𓆉✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Initially, your story was shaky, but you had a clear vision. The challenge lay in persuading the creature and the audience, all while dreading the soon arrival of an arranged marriage.

They were seated, eagerly anticipating your participation, as your creative vision devised diverse narratives for the love story between Leo and yourself from start to finish.

Behind your calm facade, you were internally conflicted, struggling to suppress your emotions and genuine feelings for the four brothers, each of whom drew you in for unique reasons. But in the end, you had never decided who was best suited for you, and now it lay in the palms of another to make that choice. But you had to remind yourself, you’d only be married on this planet, so technically on Earth this wouldn’t count. Besides, this was just a means to escape. Nothing you couldn’t handle. Right?

You continued with Leo’s version of this would be romance fallacy. Or was it?

𓆉

Leo was the epitome of cool and laid-back, always eager to share his world with you, and at one point he treated you like you were the center of it. You had recalled one of those special moments. He was remarkably alert and he had caught you when you spaced out while working on an art piece, lost in brushstrokes and color choices. As you began to fall, he swiftly picked you up, smirking, "Remind me how you're a ninja?" Afterwards, he settled into his turtle-shaped chair cushion, a gift from you, and became absorbed in his novel. That was one of the many sweet memories you cherished.

But that was a long time ago, when the turtles weren’t accustomed to interacting with humans. After leading a life of freelance operations for the city under the auspices of the NYPD, he gradually engrossed himself with work and performing search and rescue missions as a hobby. He was a uniform away from being called officer Hamato. He was the best of the best so there was no blaming him there, but still, your friendship began to dwindle over time and now you were being treated like the next coworker, whereas you were once his favorite teammate.

What had changed?

You sulked in your window seat, staring outside, where showers continued to fall at 7 pm, contrary to the forecast calling for clear skies by the hour of 6. You silently rebuked the weather channel. It was the first time in months you’d be meeting with Leonardo. In the last two years you could count the times you’ve spent with him on one hand. Well technically four (human) hands, but still! Talking over the phone wasn’t the same as having a face to face conversation and you could admire those beautiful features and expressions he made.

Lately, thoughts of him have been on your mind. The possibility of losing him led you to call him on impulse. As you were no longer working together and you traveled to Japan periodically, you wanted to maintain some connection with him, fearing total loss. You have been secretly in love with Leonardo for years. You realized it the moment the two of you had grown further apart. You thought it was too late to confront those feelings and instinctively buried them deep inside, throwing away the key to prevent them from resurfacing. Somehow, the brief scare you experienced earlier beckoned you to contact him. You weren’t planning on telling him directly, but rather showing him?

The light tap on your windowpane frightened you, prompting you to leap off your seat and prepare to confront your attacker. You quickly lowered your defenses when you recognized it was Leo smiling through the glass. “Hurry up, I’m getting wet out here!” You felt embarrassed. You had invited him over and lost in thought over him, somehow you forgot you were expecting him. You used to leave your window unlocked for him and his brothers, until the visits became seldom. But that was then.

Seeing his face, you were reminded how much you had missed him and without thought jumped into his open arms and he spun you around in a tight embrace. “Wow! It feels like forever since I last saw you sweetheart!” His words were soft and meaningful. You instantly sensed that something was different about him. “Is everything alright Leo? Did something happen while I was gone?” His smile quickly turned upside down. His eyes never lied; something was amiss. “Leo?”

He put you down and pat your head gently, dismissing your questions as was his custom. “Everything’s swell! So, how were things in Japan?! Did you find that asshole that broke into your trainer’s dojo? Did you bring him to justice? I sure hope you did! Eh, who am I kidding? It’s you! Of course you handled it perfectly.” His words were haste and giving him away, but you chose to follow along until you could find the right time to get real answers. He was good at deflecting questions. That was his genius and why he made the perfect leader. “Not exactly. I feel like I’m losing my touch. It was so much easier when I had you around…”

His head turned as fast as you recognized the vulnerability in your voice. His brows furrowed, the look of concern written across his face was unmistakable. For a space, you looked into each other’s eyes and there was an unspoken understanding between you two. It was perfectly clear that he had missed you as much as you had missed him. But when and where did this come from? As long as you could remember, you meant very little to him. There was a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes. Either his eyes were developing tears or you had officially lost your mind and were seeing things. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry beautiful.”

When the fuck was Leo ever sorry? He never apologized to anyone. Was what you read in his eyes true? Did he really miss you that much? When? Why now? How? “What?” He inched closer to you and lowered his head to meet your eyes. You shied away for a second, out of both fear and anticipation. “Look at me baby. Look..” You met his gaze and your mouth opened to speak a peace you had prepared a while back for this exact moment, until you saw the teardrop roll down his face. “Baby?” You were obviously still stunned by that word. He never called you Baby. Sweetheart, Honey, Cutie Pie…endearing terms he used when addressing or calling to you. That was ages ago, but “Baby?” For two whole years he went back to using your given name, until tonight. “I need you to listen. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much. I know it’s been a while since we’ve shared any real time with one another. This is all my fault! I got caught up with the outside world. I started to forget the people that truly mattered to me. Why I became a leader. My family. My friends. And you.”

You tensed up in his firm grasp. Afraid to ask, you wondered why he singled you out from his family and friends. What made you unique? Time and space orbited around you for what felt like forever. “An…and me?” His chest was heavily rising and falling, and his grip was likely leaving small bruises on your delicate shoulders, which were clasped tightly in his large hands.

You slapped them away! How dare he express his feelings here, after all this time of leaving you wondering about his indifference and distance! You were about to confess your feelings, eventually, but he surprisingly spoke up first, despite being the one who abandoned you, discarding you like a used rag! “Out with it! What is it Leo?!”

His glare became more intense. His eyes revealed everything, and you wouldn't let him escape this time. You'd endured enough hurt. It was as if he knew your thoughts, and he quietly confessed, "I love you. I've always loved you."

At the last drop of rain, an eternal quiet followed.

“But I thought you didn’t care for me anymore? I mean, you haven’t even been a real friend lately, so how? How Leo? When? I’m so confused.” You stood there, as if you had a choice, you were still bound in his hands, looking like a sad puppy begging for a home.

“Baby, I've been too afraid. I fell for you hard, and the thought of rejection terrified me. But I've reached my limit. Even if you don't feel the same, I need to accept it. Keeping this secret has been torture. I love you!”

That was the truth you'd been waiting for. Going from his favorite team member to an overweight donut-eater seemed implausible. You'd known the truth but avoided contemplating his response, believing no mutant turtle could be interested in a weak little human like yourself. You were part to blame.

“So?” His question surprised you. “Sooooo what?” You feigned ignorance and twiddled your thumbs while he patiently waited. “Ahem! Tell me. I can feel it you know? That and you’re a terrible liar.” Suddenly his face beamed. You had forgotten how well he knew you. This was it. This is what you had been waiting for. Don’t let him go, you fool!

“I…I love…”

“You love….?” His face matched his encouragement. He always did have to pull the truth out of you, being you were stubborn. Damn he was good!

“Okay! I love you Leo! I always have…” Again you lowered your head afraid to meet his gaze. You had finally summoned the courage, but this was HUGE! You were both your first loves. This was soooo awkward…

Later that night, you both marveled at the clear midnight sky for the first time, in a loving embrace, basking in the warmth and happiness after experiencing the most incredible pleasure.

Who knew he was such a lover?

𓆉

You unintentionally sounded excited after sharing your true feelings about Mr. Jerk, finally realizing Leo's jerkish nature. Did you miss his reaction? Was he genuinely your Romeo? In the back, Leo thought, 'Did you really feel this way the entire time? No, it was just a fabrication. You're intelligent and capable of outwitting powerful enemies. Well done, sweetheart.’

“Nicely done Earthling. You have three more tales to share. I must admit, this one alone has convinced me the beast donning the blue mask is your true match. But I promised to let you present me with all four endings. Continue…”

𓆉✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Okay turtle crew! I’ve decided it’s up to YOU to decide which turtle deserves a “happy ending?” Okay now, relax. I won’t be taking it that far, but I realized during the making of this fic I didn’t have a final answer my damn self! So I’m gonna leave it up to you guys to decide who gets married! I’ll take a poll after releasing the other endings and let you decide.

The Introduction <- Read here!

Leo’s looking pretty freaking hawwwttt 🥵 rn!

@leosgirl82 @eveandtheturtles @happymoonangel @fyreball66 @iheartchv @imthegreenfairy86 @moonlightflower21 @m1dnyt3-w0lf @memes-in-a-half-shell @thelaundrybitch @replicasey @raphslovemuffin80 @dressycobra7 @angelicdavinci @leowleow @inspiredwriter @akari180

*𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓫𝓮 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓭/𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓶𝓴! *

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

ok i Deserve this 😂 from @loquaciousquark from this wip game!

hmmmm here's some segments from that don't really give too much away in isolation

“Hey,” Hawke says softly, giving the dwarf a crooked smile as he quietly closes the door and exaggeratedly tiptoes his way to the single chair. “Sorry, I forgot you were coming by.” “I checked in earlier, but you both had gone out. I’d consider not forgiving you, but I can see now that you couldn’t manage to go more than a few hours without my presence anyway.” Varric grins wickedly, nodding down at the novel laying open on the blankets.

“I used to fight golems, you know,” she says miserably. “Whole bands of thugs. A dragon even, that one time.” “I know, Hawke.” “Now I can’t even face a bowl of oats.” “I think we would have traded a lot for our biggest problem to be a bowl of oats, back then.”

hang on both of those are too lighthearted where's an angsty one

You’d think for someone who spent so long alternating running from and chasing death, she’d have put more thought into what might came after. Hawke stands staring up at the smooth, frozen face of the statue, waiting to feel—anything. Shadows shift and flicker in the candlelight, the oppressive silence slowly filling the room like an omen. That part of her died with Bethany, she thinks, though she didn’t realize it until years later. But that moment was when her heart first truly broke, rent asunder from an ogre’s blow with a wound that never fully healed. Whoever she’d been before—and whatever that young girl had believed—had slowly leaked away in the following years. She doesn’t dwell on it much, but she thought maybe now, maybe with the shadow of her own death following so closely at her heels, some flicker of faith might have returned. But not even the memory of her sister’s name brings more than quiet regret, over ten years later. Over half the life she’d managed to live. Instead of kneeling, she turns from Andraste’s stony gaze, and flees back into the night.

i DO every now and then think about posting a chapter or two. but the last chapter i uploaded ends on a kind of peaceful/high note compared to uh the kind of cliffhangers/tension I usually leave things at, so it would feel meaner to put something up and then perhaps not follow up on it for another year if it came to that. also its easy to post continually in the first half of a story where you're just opening new doors/threads but less so for the second half when i need to be tying things up alas. i think it'll be better if i just finish it out so i can edit things more comprehensively and Then post the rest... or at least have a more cohesive first draft. but yes! there is More, i still care deeply about where my Hawke's story goes, and want to make sure there's coherent follow through on the various plot elements I set up early on.

[bi-dykes]

How do you get into the perspective of your OC(s)? What were the first few things you did to get into their character and understand them better?

I absolutely love this question bc it led to me re reading my own work 😂

I somehow got to my my characters very well without ever putting my book in first person. It’s all third person, sub for one character who breaks the fourth wall and sometimes speaks without quotation marks.

I was inspired by Shannon Hale’s run of Ever After High (Ever After High has at least three different book series by three different authors, plus a Netflix tv series- it’s like a miniature MCU but with better characterization lmao) and I can arguably say that Shannon Hale has the best material on all of Ever After High.

Here is an example (the image is sourced from Etsy) of how a character breaks the containment of using proper formatting of quotation marks and speaks directly to the narrator

I do this as well. Different font, and then I write it like a text message going back and forth, disregarding quotation marks or proper formatting. However this only happens a couple of times per book for my character, and a handful (4-5) times in Ever After High.

I know my characters far too well. The main eight are like children to me, I know their deepest desire and darkest fear and coping mechanism and guilty pleasure. I have been with them for over 5 years without finishing my novel. The time has been spent with making playlists and drawing pictures and creating Pinterest boards and writing things that I don’t intend to publish or include in the final manuscript (hehehe fanfiction by the author) because I simply like to explore them in different situations. My books are going to be in third person, but I ocassionally write in first person, even if I’m planning on just deleting it, because I just like to practice getting in my characters’ heads when I have writers block.

I follow the “worst” writing advice ever. I base many traits for my OCs off of myself, which could be seen as making them Mary Sues. I write them like real people, adding in stupid dialogue of them stuttering or accidentally interrupting one another and then saying “oh sorry, you go first”. I write smut about my favourite OC ships knowing that I’ll never include it in the final draft of my book, just because I want to write about what’s happening “off screen” and what my characters are doing when the reader isn’t looking (although there are indeed some sex scenes in my book, I do like to write additional ones that aren’t nearly as eloquent or have any plans to include it in the published novel). I started my second draft before my first draft was finished, solely because I understood my writing style had improved so abruptly and the characters had evolved so much, I needed to start fresh. I look in the mirror and act out my character’s conversations with one another or their fight scenes or how they wave their hands around like Elsa conjuring magic. I take breaks for months and when I finally sit down and write, I’ll either write 5 words, or 2205 words in one sitting, and not often anything in between.

I have horrible writing advice, and I suggest you take any of it that you’d like or that resonated with you, because it has brought me so much joy in my life and has helped me gradually get to know my characters like new friends who become family.

I’ve been told that my writing “flows like butter” which is so odd because I juggle 4 protagonists, 2 antagonists, and 2 deuteragonists. They don’t “all fit”, but they all have a role to play. Like the delicious fries on the side of the burger, the whole meal. Your characters don’t need to be stars. They just need to be memorable. And I know they will be. Your mind is more capable than you think.

Like honestly, just word vomit on the page and write silly stuff. It will be the most human, glorious, flawed, messy, endearing, and passionate writing you’ll see. Just go create chaos. And play with your characters like Barbie dolls. In a little while, you’ll know them like you know yourself.

At the end of the day, anything you write will be an achievement because you took nothing and turned it into something, transformed a blank page into a series of words and letters. That’s god behaviour right there. Even if it’s shitty writing, you created it from scratch.

But also, don’t worry about setting deadlines and timelines. I’ve been at this since grade 10 and now I’m in university and I’m still not done. Let your characters marinate and soak and rest in your mind. Let them grow. There is no rush. All is well 💜 and one day your characters will grow like little plants from seeds 🫂🫂🫂💕💕💕 just be patient with yourself, and have fun with getting to know your characters!

[fleet-off]

yet another Off the Handle excerpt

from the one where Vegas over-reacts following a dishwasher argument.

Pete drops to his knees, skin showing pink like a burn in his cheeks and the tops of his ears as he lets Vegas apply his sunscreen.

His arms rest across Vegas’s lap, muscles firm against his fingertips. It’s more body contact than they’ve had in nearly a week and it aches a little, the way casual touch does when it’s Pete.

“I don’t need it,” he’s saying, although not particularly protesting, “I spent a lot of time indoors the last few years, but I can handle some sun.”

Vegas massages lotion into his cheeks. “...You’d tell me if you noticed something wrong with your skin.”

“What, like an infection?”

“A rash, a weird mole…”

Pete gives him a funny look. “Yeah, I’d tell you if I were worried about skin cancer.” He butts his face against Vegas’s hand, shocking enough that Vegas nearly jolts back. He gentles his palms for Pete’s face to nestle against. “Really, don’t you think you’d notice first? You know my skin better than I do—you and your mole-biting and your weird ingrown-hair thing.”

Vegas bites back a retort. He shouldn’t have to defend his kinks—they both know Pete’s are weirder. “Tell me anyway,” he says.

Pete frowns. “Sure.” Softening up, “Odd to think of a future long enough that we have to worry about cancer.”

“…Yeah,” Vegas says thickly, and, “Turn around, I need to do your neck.”

Pete’s neck is sweaty already—it really is miserably hot. “We’ll leave by eleven,” Vegas tells him. “Pick up lunch on our way home.”

He pats Pete on the shoulder when he finishes and receives an unexpected kiss on the cheek for the trouble—doesn’t know what to do with it, after days of tension and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Probably he looks a little sunstruck, because Pete smiles and flicks his nose. “Sure you don’t want to get in the water?” he asks. “Just up to your knees? It’ll cool you off.”

“Have fun,” Vegas says, picking up his novel and the pieces of his composure. “And get Macau back here for his turn, will you? He has our mother’s skin.”

[lilac-vapor]

gardenia.

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Ominis/OFC

A/N: Find me on Ao3 under Bounteous

Ominis does not consider himself to be ambitious. Now, he can’t quite figure out whether it’s a result of his upbringing—having spent the majority of his childhood despising his family and naught else—or if basking in the tall grasses is his only desire in life currently. Warmth prickles at his skin, oscillating between pleasant and unbearable and he very much can’t help the worries still plaguing the recesses of his mind.

His fingertips brush along the bumps dotting the pages of his book, running over the same words again and again, slow as he is to remember the pattern’s meaning. Braille, she’d called it. He also recalls the indignation with which she’d slandered the whole of the wizarding community’s, “blatant disregard for disabilities.” Regardless, he appreciates not having to hold his wand in one hand while those thick school tomes sit in the other. He also appreciates the atmospheric silence as opposed to the translator spell deafening nearby ears.

He mutters lowly, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, ignoring the soft thumping of footsteps headed toward him. Hattie peers over his shoulder, and Ominis can faintly smell the earthiness of dittany as she does so.

“How goes the reading?” she asks, the cadence of her soft voice trailing down Ominis’ spine.

He smiles in spite of himself. “Difficult, I must admit. Haven’t the need to put my French to much use until now.”

“There’s not much braille in English, I’m afraid.” She straightens herself, dusting off her dress of whatever remedy she’d been procuring beforehand. “But you’re doing quite well! I could find you another muggle novel, if you’d like. You’re almost finished with that one, I see.”

He lifts his head in her direction, smiling fully. “That’d be much appreciated, thank you.”

“Of course! Now, come. I’d like you to accompany me to the market today!” 

He imagines she’s either holding out a hand to help him up or standing with her hands on her hips in that pleasantly proud sort of way she does so often. “Right now?”

“Yes.”

“The muggle market or the wizarding market?” “Basinbrooke—I’m on the lookout for more Valerian Root. Was in the middle of brewing some Blood-Replenishing and couldn’t find any.”

“What of Anne?” “She’s napping. Now will you please grab my hand so I can whisk you away on a magical adventure?”

He’s barely lifted his finger from the page before she grabs his hand with the personable confidence of most Hufflepuffs and pulls him up from his nestle among the grasses and flowers. He snaps his book shut and tucks it against his chest as he stalls, “At least let me tidy up. I can’t very well go walking about like I’ve rolled around in the fields.”

Ominis had not expected to travel today. He would have been content to sit about reading or dozing or walking around the property, so he hadn’t put much thought or effort into his choice of clothing. Simple breeches and hose, boots he’d accidentally waded through a creek in, and his button-up with sleeves he’s rolled up to his elbows. Oh, he must look a sight.

Hattie merely squeezes his hand and tugs him along. “Nonsense, you’re as beautiful as always.”

His face burns hotly at her words. “L-let me put the book away, then,” he stammers.

~~~

Basinbrooke is a hamlet roughly the size of Lower Hogsfield, but every two weeks during the summer months they host a large market for all of the surrounding hamlets to join, barter, and trade. Ominis has discovered, though Hattie finds the smallest delights in most things, this market holds a special place in her heart. He’d be a fool to believe she only came for the Valerian Root and not at all to converse and peruse the various trinkets, delicacies, and other displays. 

He’s lost her nearly three times now, though she always finds her way back to him. Currently, he’s immersed himself in the lovely taste of lemon shortbread as he sniffs about the hundreds of teas this stall is selling. He has half a mind to buy himself some Earl Grey fresh on the spot. And perhaps some oolong for Hattie, woodsy and rich like those muggle herbs she enjoys.

The square, if that at all, teems with life and laughter, with chatty customers and even chattier vendors. Ominis hasn’t been around such thralls of people since Hogwarts and he can admit with utmost confidence that he doesn’t miss it. While navigating is a pain in his arse, it’s that he much rather prefers the company of silence and stillness as opposed to this cacaphony of grating voices and footsteps on gravel and—

“Sweets and sugary delights! Accid pop, darling? They’ll melt your mouth!”

“Uh, no, thank you.”

“Oh, fine, young sir, this hat would look absolutely stunning atop you!” “I’m okay, thank you.”

“Palm reading, perhaps? Your future is full of twists indeed.”

“No.”

It appears he can’t go one second without being accosted by some stall or other despite the countless patrons strolling right on by. Merlin, where is she?

Mesmerized by the candle vendor, of course.

“I can’t believe you stranded me in the middle of the crowd like that,” he admonishes jokingly, shaking his head. “I could have been mauled.”

Hattie giggles, and he imagines anyone else might blush in slight embarrassment, but she is nothing if not assuredly herself and he knows she is simply smiling. At him, he hopes.

She says, “Apologies, Ominis, I was looking for a candle that smells like you, though I haven’t any luck just yet,” and he thinks his heart must skip several beats at such a bold, unobtrusive statement.

“W-why on earth would you be searching for a candle that smells like me?”

She picks up another candle, sniffing several times before humming in disappointment. “Because you smell good, obviously. But mostly because it’s so familiar and I can’t quite put my finger on it, so I thought I could figure it out by finding a candle.”

“A candle that smells like me?” Ominis supplies dumbly.

“Yes!”

Hattie is strange in a way that makes Ominis uniquely warm and fuzzy inside. It’s not that she has a loose tongue, that she might inadvertently anger the wrong wizard by opening her mouth faster than her brain can shut it. It’s that everything she says, she says with such meaning and conviction. Every single word, every sentence is true and well-intentioned and never lacking in sincerity. 

She will stop in the middle of something wholly important just to tell a young witch that her hair is so strikingly beautiful and there will never be any hidden intent, maliciousness, or snide remark in the aftermath. She will mean it with every ounce of her being and she will say it with such colorful articulation and inflection that it leaves Ominis nearly tearful.

It shouldn’t still be so monumental that she expresses her feelings in such a way to him. But it is.

“Juniper.”

He feels her still beside him. “What?”

“Juniper, I think, is the scent you’re looking for.”

She sets down the jar in her hand, lets it lightly thump against the table as she turns toward him. “How do you know that?” 

And he feels the ingenuity wrapped around the question like vines as he smiles fondly. “My aunt.” Though it hurts to reminisce, he loves having someone new to talk about her to. “There…there was a muggle family she became quite close to. A friend of hers from school who was muggle-born. They had juniper trees in their yard where they liked to sit and talk. She said I smelled like them, odd as it is.”

Hattie is silent for several moments and Ominis begins to wonder if he’s overstepped before she speaks, “That was a really lovely story, Ominis. The way you spoke of your aunt…is she?”

He merely nods, swallowing down the lump in his throat instead of speaking aloud.

“I’m very sorry. She is right, though. You do oddly smell like juniper.” She places a jar in his hand, keeps hold of it as she tugs him closer. “I’m sad because I don’t think they’ll have a juniper candle here. It’s not a very summer-y scent. But I do hope you’ll enjoy this present from me to you. I know you like to smell the roses and all that.”

He struggles to speak in such close proximity, feeling the way her breath tickles against his cheek and her hands press against his. “What is it?”

He hears the smile in her voice. “Sniff it, go on!”

What he smells is something strong, something almost like fruit but heavier. Comforting in its familiarity and he smiles once he deduces the candle sat delicately in his grasp. “Gardenia, is it not?”

Hattie jumps, her fingers tightening against his as she squeals, “Yes, yes! Do you remember when I took you around that muggle park the other day and you mentioned how you absolutely adored those flowers?”

Hattie certainly enjoys her walks and Ominis will forever indulge her, even if her stamina will always trump his. Strolls to Hogsmeade and back pale in comparison to the trips she takes him on, though, as is always the case, he can’t tell her no. Seems to be that way with all his friends.

He laughs, low and breathy, replying, “I don’t think I used that phrase, but yes, I recall.”

“Well, they have it here…in a jar for your burning pleasure!” She steals him away from the stall, from the utterly confused proprietor, probably, and back into the hustle and bustle. This time with her arm through his. “I was going to wait until we got back to the cottage, but you found me first. I’ve also got some sugary sweets for Anne, a couple absolutely exquisite quills for Sebastian, and a stunning wand handle for Nirvana. She does so adore collecting those, doesn’t she?”

They make their way through the market, through the shade of the willow trees that incase the Floo Flame. Ominis can feel the tendrils brush against his arms and cheeks and Hattie giggles as she accidentally guides his face straight into one. He tries to fight the blush as she brushes away the bits of green lodged in his hair.

It’s not until they’re halfway back toward the coast that Ominis speaks, “What did you get for yourself?”

Hattie, so lost in the wonder that is the world around her, merely hums in acknowledgement.

“You bought gifts for all of us except yourself?” Ominis wonders how someone could be so thoughtlessly selfless.

“Well, yes, but I didn’t need to buy my gift. He’s right here next to me for free.”

Ominis nearly trips on his own two feet, stopping in the middle of the path as he sputters about for a reply. It’s so strange, so stupidly and wonderfully strange because even Sebastian, fiery Sebastian, wasn’t able to fray Ominis’ nerves quite like this when they’d first met. Perhaps he need only play catch up considering a long part of his life left him without compliments or niceties or even sweet nothings to be watched as they’re whispered from his father to his mother. Perhaps he simply needs to get used to Hattie.

He’s not so sure he wants to. No one’s ever made him feel like this before.

Hattie laughs, grabbing at his arm and nuzzling against him. “I didn’t mean to frazzle you so, Ominis. Let’s go home, shall we?”

It’s not until they’ve reached the front door that Hattie exclaims, “Oh, blast, I forgot the Valerian Root!”

Ominis’ breath catches in his throat. His heart stops. His limbs and appendages seize movement. Is this what love feels like?

[nflstreetsanimereviews]

VTuber Legend: How I Went Viral after Forgetting to Turn Off My Stream Vol. 1 Review

I came across VTuber Legend: How I Went Viral after Forgetting to Turn Off My Stream after it was announced it was getting an anime adaptation. I haven’t read any new light novel series in a while, and as a fan of (some) VTubers, I thought this series had the chance to be entertaining, even if it wasn’t that good. That’s what I thought–however, I wasn’t prepared for what I was going to read. Not because of how ‘wild’ or ‘lewd’ it was, but because of how excruciating it was to finish. Excruciating to the point where it seems like it was written by someone who has contempt for VTubers and their fans.

VTuber Legend: How I Went Viral after Forgetting to Turn Off My Stream is about Yuki Tanaka, who J-Novel Club (publisher of VTuber Legend) describes as a ‘twenty-year-old former wage slave that now works among her idols’. Those idols, Virtual YouTubers, otherwise known as ‘VTubers’, are streamers who stream themselves doing all sorts of things, such as playing video games, cooking food, or holding a ‘zatsudan’ (which are steams spent talking idly with chat). She gets hired at ‘Live-On’, one of Japan’s top VTuber companies. She streams as ‘Awayuki Kokorone’, a ‘seiso’ (pure and wholesome) VTuber whose debut has not gone as well as she hoped. She only has half the subscribers and CCV (concurrent viewers) as her genmates (VTubers who debuted alongside her). Even worse than that, she still isn’t able to monetize her channel, effectively making her a NEET! Fortunately for her, her luck is about to change!

As the title suggests, Yuki forgets to turn off her stream one night. Not knowing that her stream is still going, and people can hear her, she cracks open a Strong Zero and watches her fellow genmates. Her crude comments (as compared to her normal onstream ‘seiso’ self), combined with how drunk she gets, cause her to go viral overnight! Yuki finds that due to her unintentional stunt, her viewer count has exploded, and she’s gained enough subscribers to now be neck-and-neck with her genmates.

As I stated earlier, I’m a fan of VTubers, which I guess would make me the target audience for the VTuber Legend series (the target audience would technically be ‘Japanese VTuber fans’ in this case, but I digress). It wasn’t a good sign though when my friend, who also regularly watches VTubers, and had already read the first volume of VTuber Legend, replied simply with ‘60’ when I told him I was gonna read this. I thought he might just be being playfully harsh, since it’s fun to do that with light novel series. However, the further I got into VTuber Legend, the more I realized that he was doing it a favor by calling it ‘mid’.

My main issue, and what made me come to the conclusion that VTuber Legend simply doesn’t work as a light novel, is the format of most of its chapters. Whenever Yuki is streaming or collabing with other VTubers, she regularly talks to her chat. I mean, it’s what VTubers do. Hell, it’s what most streamers do. As you might expect, the chat talks back, many-fold. And we have to read that. The chat. You know, the thing that you usually hide while watching a stream?

‘The Chat’, as a character, appears in around two-thirds of the pages, and it is so hard to read. In any case, the amount of lines ‘The Chat’ has in VTuber Legend leads me to believe that the author had ‘The Chat’ feature so much as to fill up space, while having to type nothing but empty words and catchphrases. You know, the usual from streams. One might think you could just skip past and ignore the chat, like one is able to do in real life–but you can’t here. You’d be missing half of the story if you did. And it makes it so painstakingly difficult to read an otherwise simple read.

Another issue, one that is exacerbated by ‘The Chat’ being a main character, is the lack of variety when it comes to jokes. As you would expect, after Yuki’s viral incident, her love of Strong Zero becomes a common punchline. Kinda like how James Bond likes his martinis ‘shaken, not stirred’ and Snoop Dogg’s love of smoking weed ‘every day’. The problem is that Strong Zero isn’t the punchline–it’s the only line. The word ‘StroZero’ appears 249 times in the novel. Two-hundred-and-forty-nine times! For a book that only takes an afternoon to read! The word ‘martini’ is only said 59 times in all of Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels. Fifty-nine times throughout twelve novels (and two short story collections). The lack of depth in Yuki’s character really shows–other than loving Strong Zero and having a shitty job once, we know nothing about her. Otis Cambell, the ‘town drunk’ character in The Andy Griffith Show, had way more depth than Yuki, and he was a side character! Not to mention the jokes and gags around his drunkenness actually had some variety and showed some creativity, not just saying ‘StroZero’ over and over again. 

Reading VTuber Legend is kinda like watching the episode of SpongeBob SquarePants where SpongeBob rips his pants accidentally while weight-lifting, causing everyone around him to laugh in response. For a while, the punchline of him ripping his pants continued to be funny–but over time, fewer and fewer people laugh. It gets to the point where no one finds it funny, and even the pair of pants he’s wearing has enough of it and walks off. For those who already knew what I was talking about when I said ‘SpongeBob’ and ‘ripped pants’, I want you to imagine this: Imagine if the Ripped Pants episode was three hours long instead of eleven minutes, and the joke never got old to anyone. Add the effect of this being a book, something you actively have to pay attention to, and you get to the point where reading VTuber Legend is excruciating, like I said at the top. It’s hard to read to the point where I have a sneaking suspicion that the author wrote this to mock VTubers, or at least for the chat of VTuber streams, considering how repetitive ‘The Chat’ is. I doubt that’s the case though, seeing how many references there are to real-life VTubers in the novel. I’m sure that some of the jokes were lost in translation, but even if I was reading this in Japanese, I would be turned off by how many times ‘ストゼロ’ appears. No alcoholic beverage deserves that much praise, even PBR.

Most of the other ‘funny’ parts of VTuber Legend involve our main character being extremely lewd and crude to her fellow VTubers. This was also hard to read. It was like watching a second dead horse get beat. I don’t have much other to say about this except I’m glad it’s over.

The fact of the matter is that VTuber Legend is doomed to not be a good read, even if the jokes were good (and weren’t repeated two-hundred times). Most of the book takes place during streams, which would work in a visual format such as anime or manga, but fails to deliver as a light novel. Think about it–what do you think of when I say the names of popular VTubers such as Gawr Gura, Houshou Marine, or Vox Akuma? Most likely, you’ll visualize their model. Being a light novel, VTuber Legend is limited in how many illustrations it can show the reader. While there ARE illustrations, it doesn’t help that much. Most of the book ends up being akin to reading someone’s transcription of a VTuber stream. The emphasis on most of the book taking place during streams, rather than in between them, is bizarre, considering I could just go on YouTube and watch an actual VTuber stream and it be way more entertaining than reading the same two jokes being beaten to death for what is probably the 30th stream in a row. In fact, nothing in this book is even relatively subversive, especially considering drinking streams happen often (at least in the English VTuber scene). Of course, VTubers (and most streamers in general) have their own contrived jokes, but nothing bordering on how god-awful the streams in VTuber Legend would be to actually watch. Also, there’s no way anything this book ever spits out will be as funny as Rosemi Lovelock repeatedly failing to open a can of tomatoes on-stream for half an hour or Scarle Yonaguni cleaning her room. It’s hard to make something that’s already absurd even more absurd. It’s the same reason why most comedians impersonating Donald Trump often fail to say anything as funny as the man himself.

As harsh as I am, I do genuinely believe that the anime adaption of VTuber Legend: How I Went Viral after Forgetting to Turn Off My Stream will be better than the light novel. I mean, it can't get much worse than this. Will it be good? I highly doubt it, unless the animation studio takes a lot of liberties with the source material. Like, a LOT of liberties. Unless you’re a masochist, I wouldn’t recommend VTuber Legend. You’re better off waiting for the anime to air–or just watching an actual VTuber stream.

30/100

[janec23]

Writing question tag

Thank you @mariahwritesstuff for the tag, I love these questions! Here the original post :)

My quest to finish my tag games is moving forward!

I tag: @rickie-the-storyteller, @digital-chance, @romanceandshenanigans, @phynewrites, @harleywriteshit (if you did this already, sorry!)

Rules: Answer the 10 questions if you feel like it ^^

Questions at the bottom!

1. What is your absolute all-time favourite ideas you’ve ever had?

It's not really an idea, but I really want to crush the tabu about menstrual cycle. Half of the population on earth has period, so why not mention it in my writing? It's just part of my OCs life, so I mention it if necessary.

2. Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

The question was: why do you care so much about your writing? You are a scientist and you care more on improving your writing style than your career. I know I can improve my writing and it makes me feel good, my career? Not so much... :/

3. What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

Favourite: Feeling what my OCs are feeling while I write. I love becoming my OCs, think like them, act like them. Daydreaming about their adventures as well!

I would leave the editing, I hate it, I'm not good at it. I can rework scenes hundreds of times to make them better, but please, don't make me work on punctuation and cutting out stuff >.<

4. What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

Knowing that once I am done writing I will have another story to read and re-read that I enjoy when I am down. The confort of knowing my OCs will be there for me is undeniable ^^

5. What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

Become your OCs and write like you're them, act like them, write what they feel and think at that moment, do not over explain useless stuff only for the sake of the reader.

6. What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

The classic: show don't tell. I was 13, so you can imagine the pages spent on over-explaining every single detail of the world I was building. -.-"

7. What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

It's a sequel of The midnight's witches, where I focus on Alessia. It takes place 5 years after the main story, she's 17 and facing a lot of challenges as the perfect daughter that is starting to explore the world for the first time. Without her mother breathing down her neck all the time she's finally free to date that guy.

8. What is your favourite out-of-the-box quote?

"Did that silver spoon got stuck in your ass, snobly?" Sneered Julien.

9. Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

This is a slippery slope. I would say Renewa. She's a healer and most of her patients are elderly, so she is suppose to cure them, but since the setting of the story is in a middle age kind of world, sometimes they don't want to suffer anymore and ask her to help them in other ways... And she does it. I respect the way she feels about it, she's just doing her best to ease their suffering, respecting their wishes. I made her to be controversial also in the novel.

10. If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

She would be amazed at the amount of stuff I wrote, winning small prizes and pushing forward in my quest to improve. She would be happy to know fantasy do not extinguish when you grow older, but like wine it becomes better.

Questions:

1. What is your absolute all-time favourite ideas you’ve ever had?

2. Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

3. What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

4. What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

5. What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

6. What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

7. What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

8. What is your favourite out-of-the-box quote?

9. Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

10. If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

[questioningespecialy]

i’m constantly reminded of mortality, and it doesn’t bother me the way you’d think

repost from that time i deleted an article i spent 4 days on T-T actual post this time since i somehow posted it privately yesterday 😭

---

Hi, I’m Questioning. And I like to waste my life away dedicate my free time to random hobbies that catch my hyperfixation interest on the fly. Currently, I’ve returned to something most important. Updating the encyclopedia-esque database of AlternativeTo.net. o_o

Let me finish.

See, I started exploring the world of Visual Novel (VN) makers, which led to me discovering the world of Interactive Fiction (IF)–their predecessor afaic. And that’s where it got strange. What I’ve found is interesting developments in terms of innovation and such. Like Undum (image)–“a game framework for building a sophisticated form of hypertext interactive fiction” according to its GitHub. IFWiki calls it “an authoring system for CYOA-style stories playable on web browsers.” It was created by I.D. Millington in 2009, released in 2010, had returned in 2018, and would’ve changed the IF genre (kinda like Twine did) if not for how hard it was to get into.

Undum’s flexibility and power have made it the engine that drove some of the most significant works in IF (The Play, Almost Goodbye). But it has always been relatively inaccessible. Undum is not the system of choice for writing straightforward hypertext games; it’s a challenging system to learn and use that demands the author build their own engine on top of it to drive their game logic. Consider Raconteur for “Undum with batteries included.” -Bruno Dias (x)

Enter Raconteur, “a friendlier way to write Undum hypertext fiction” that was announced by Bruno Dias in 2015. More accurately described as “a library of Undum tools that can get someone writing their story quickly.” Here’s the thing about the “library of Undum tools” part: Undum did not come prepackaged with any… even though they were required to write your game,…😐 which “meant doing a lot of your own tooling.” 😑

Yeah, no surprise it won the award for Best Technological Development in XYZZY Awards 2015.

But hold up, somethin’ ain’t right…

Undum’s only got 21 games on IFDB.org and Raconteur’s got 4… with 1 overlap with Undum. 😐

So~… wth?

Well, someone else had a similar question on intfiction.org in March and got Josh Grams’ opinion on it: JavaScript.

🤷🏿‍♂️

So even though Undum was designed as the visual version of bookbinding and with the specific goals “aesthetic” & “technical” in mind, shit’s too intimidating compared to alternatives.

I hoped [writing Undum in JavaScript] would make it accessible for a wider range of dabblers, requiring transferable skills rather than learning a new language. It also made it achievable to write and document over a few weekends: I didn’t have to worry about parsing, or creating a complete runtime. But the best benefit, and in some ways the one least exploited in practice, is the ability to use Undum as part of a bigger game. I imagined a strategy game with CYOA elements, or a piece of interactive fiction using natural language generation to be different each time. -Ian Millington (x)

And here’s~ where it gets a bit fucked.

Remember the other person who had a similar question–J. J. Guest? Well, they ended their post with “Was it simply superseded by Ink / Inky?”

Let’s keep this simple:

Ink [image] is the core narrative engine itself, written in C#. It includes the code for the compiler. If you’re not technical, you don’t need to worry about this. Inky [image] is our ink editor, which is a text editor with support for playing as you write. If you’re just starting out with ink, this is all you need. inkle is the game development studio that created ink (x)

So it’s “a narrative scripting language for games” and yet another CYOA maker. Why do I bring them up? Well, Inkle (the company) “was founded in 2011 by two Cambridge game developers [Joseph Humfrey & Jon Ingold] with a passion for storytelling and beautiful design” (x). They started off with their unique “inklebook” format, which had an early prototype game in ~2008 that Jon described as

an iPad-based choice-driven story made of ‘pages’ which stitched together into a single flow via frequent choice points. It was a lovely UI for a choice-based game, even in prototype form, and we had a strong scripting language underneath it – the first version of ink. (x)

In January of 2012, they released “a web-tool for writing and reading simple interactive stories” called inklewriter. Joseph described it as “a simpler subset of the inklebook format” (x) and admitted “inklewriter was partly born out of the surprise that there isn’t anything out there for quickly and easily writing non-linearly.” (x)

After already having “moved away from developing inklewriter for a long time,” it went “permanent beta” in September of 2017 due to “increasing frequency of persistent bug-reports.” Sad news considering the statement “we’ve had hundreds of thousands of stories created by hundreds of thousands of users; we’ve won awards from school and library associations; and hopefully we’ve helped kickstart a few interactive writers careers” (x). And since writers (who became aware in time) were able to “rescue” their story from the bugs and potential wipeout with a simple Save Page As, it was probably a bit less heartbreaking when inkle revealed less than a year later that inklewriter would be shutting down completely in August of 2018. Seemingly because “it’s real work to fix the issues that arise” with the constant browser changes. 😐

Only 7 months later, it returned in March of 2019. Stable, still free, and now open-source after developers in the open-source community “produced a full port of inklewriter to modern web-tech.” 🥳 Writers needed to make new accounts and import their stories to the new database, but that was it. And since the legacy version was (and is) still around, they could do it pretty quickly. (x)

But where dahell was I going with this? Let me tell you about the original connection first: Unity Integration.

The [ink-unity-integration] plugin provides you with everything you need to get started with ink in Unity. It automatically recompiles ink files as you edit them, and even comes with a simple previewer that lets you play stories directly within the Editor, without writing a line of code. (x)

Remember Ian Millington’s statement from awhile ago? “But the best benefit, and in some ways the one least exploited in practice, is the ability to use Undum as part of a bigger game. I imagined a strategy game with CYOA elements, or a piece of interactive fiction using natural language generation to be different each time.” (x)

Well,… Stoic Studio (announced that they) did it in January 2013 when they used inklewriter for The Banner Saga. Though, inkle recommends you use their ink scripting language instead for Unity projects. 🤷🏿‍♀️ A scripting language that was ported to JavaScript in May of 2016, btw. The port (inkjs) having its latest release just 6 freaking days ago while Undum and Raconteur had their last GitHub edits in 2018 & 2020 respectively.

Either way, Ian’s imagination of “a strategy game with CYOA elements” happened… with another mofo’s software. 😐

And what’s that? I left something out?

I left working on Undum to develop Varytale, a short lived commercial IF endeavour that shared a lot of the same aesthetic and narrative structure. And then I retired, and it lay fallow, aside from email help requests that still drip into my inbox. -Ian Millington (x)

Let’s see what IFWiki says about this endeavor:

Varytale was a platform for authoring and publishing browser-based CYOA, created by Ian Millington and Alexis Kennedy; it occupied a point somewhere between Undum and StoryNexus [a comparatively mostly defunct endeavor from 2012]. The Varytale website was live from approximately 2011 to 2015. The first posts on Varytale’s blog appeared in June 2011. On March 7, 2014, Varytale posted a comment on the Varytale Facebook page saying, “The project is stalled, due to key people leaving the project. So there’s no news, and I’m not sure if or when there will be.” The last Wayback Machine snapshot of www.varytale.com/books was taken in September 2015. (x)

On its May of 2012 public beta announcement on FailbetterGames website, something slightly poignant was said.

But the technology is great [seriously] - it’s easily the most flexible and powerful tool of its kind, and it’ll be fascinating to see what people can do with it once the writers’ programme opens up. And as it happens, Jon Ingold / Joseph Humfrey’s very elegant inklewriter has also just gone live [4 months prior]. (…) …[inklewriter] covers some of the same territory as Varytale, but it’s (by design) simpler in concept and execution. (x)

Life is truly cruel.

If you check the archive from possibly days before its shut down in September of 2015, you’ll see 4 official books (Bee, Fighting, How To Read, Hymn & Shanty) and 3 User Published Books (London Road, Sixth Tower, Tillinghast). That’s 7… 7 books. 😐

But it’s not that sad. According to the Varytale blog’s 2nd to last post (in June of 2012), “we passed 50,000 reads across the seven books currently on our reader’s beta.” This was perhaps a full week after they released the floodgates and actually allowed people to start readin’. Das alot to me. They clearly succeeded in “building a platform for authors to write great books, and for publishers to publish them.” Even built a whole-ass “system that does generative design,” creating “artwork based on the author’s choice of patterned design or photograph” (x). Or, as we’d quickly say 12 years later, some AI shit.

So wut 👏🏿 in da fuq 👏🏿

Why’d they never get past the 7 book mark in the 2 years between Reader’s Beta and project stallation? Well,… there’s a hint at the end of that 2012 blog post: “We have a queue of people wanting to write content, who are been added a few at a time. So lots of hard work in the beta still to go.” hm~ 🤔

If The Way Back Machine had archives past January of 2013, we’d definitely know more, but this is it (i ain’t diggin’ a wider hole at this point). And what is it? I think it’s a matter of workload. Too much for too few people who had however much goin’ on in their lives. Remember much earlier this bit from IFWiki?

On March 7, 2014, Varytale posted a comment on the Varytale Facebook page saying, “The project is stalled, due to key people leaving the project. (x)

Maybe things weren’t smooth enough for awhile. Maybe it was something else for those 2 years prior. 🤷🏿‍♂️ And you know… the end of Emily Short’s blog post Writing for Varytale might hold the answer.

There are still some challenges about using the Varytale system, though it’s evolved tremendously over the course of beta. One of the biggest authorial challenges is that, while there’s the awesome structure tool shown above for looking at branching structure inside a storylet, it can be considerably more challenging to get a view of what’s going on at the macro level. And I’m not even sure what the tool for this ought to look like. The strength of storylets is that they can affect which other ones pop up in a fairly freeform way, and one can affect another (via their shared stat use) without explicit logic in either. But that’s also what makes it really hard to graph how they will act. Most of the bugs that arose in Bee were related to this issue of envisioning the total structure of the work and detecting storylets that were going to break that structure. (x)

So in this case aswell, the innovations of Ian’s Varytale make it… (a bit) intimidating to work with. 😑Whether or not this difficulty was ever ironed out post-beta is unknown to me, especially considering the end of Ian’s thankful response to Tom H.’s suggestion for fixing the macro level problem: “When will I get chance to code it? That’s a whole other matter!”

…hm~

And on the same post lies magnus4444’s statement that “There isn’t a lot of documentation out there yet on the implementation of more advanced effects but, on the plus side, Ian is generous with advice and tips.”

🤷🏿‍♀️

So wtf do we have here. Effectively two developers (i’m simplifying it; fight me) who 1) made a CYOA maker (Undum & inklewriter) for very similar reasons, 2) put development aside to focus on other CYOA makers (Varytale & Inky), 3) had their neglected work taken up by open-source developers for the good of everyone, and 4) reaped the benefit of the other’s labor in some way. Now, here’s where we’re back to the sad part. Inkle’s version of the tale is the American Dream ™. Inklewriter was beloved by many and had mainstream success. Ian’s version is the harsh American Reality. Undum only bore 24+ games over the course of its 13 year existence on the internet and in the world of IF. And if a single person’s opinion is to be taken as fact… then the reason was simple: shit wasn’t easy to pickup. And thus, regardless of Ian & Bruno’s efforts, it (at this rate) is bound to become an obscure software regardless of its potential. All while Varytale remains gone and Inky (released in June of 2016) is still goin’ strong with 160+ games released using its Ink language/engine.

Which brings me back to the matter…

i’m constantly reminded of [my] mortality

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Love Through the Pages | Chapter 2

Masterlist

Synopsis: Bob Floyd isn’t the man you typically find in a love story. His awkward mannerism and unusual ways don’t make him the typical heart throb, but Bob certainly has his charms. He finds love in an unexpected place when he finds a hidden message in a book that changes his life for ever. He meets the girl of his dreams but true love is not always an easy road and can they survive the ups and downs that life throws at them.

Warnings: 18+, potential slow burn, mentions of injuries and hospitals, language, smut, 18+. No specific warnings for this chapter.

Working a night shift was like living in one of the seven levels of hell, the never-ending abuse and criticism had you collapsing onto the locker room bench. You knew when you took the job in the ER department of one of the busiest hospitals that it was going to be stressfu,l but the night shift was even more hellish. The stream of patients was never ending and the doctors had been even more demanding than ever. You shut your eyes, bringing your hand up to shield them from the glaring lights as you lay flat on the bench. 12 hours on your feet and you still had to get up and walk home. Groaning, you rolled onto your side, propping yourself up on your elbow and reaching across to your locker. You grabbed your bag quickly, pulling your hoodie over the top of your scrubs and shoving your stethoscope into your rucksack. Just as you reached for the door one of the junior doctors rushed in smiling at you. Her name was Natasha, she was kind and hard-working and you’d warmed to her quickly. Being a nurse it was nice to work with a doctor who respected you and Natasha was just that. She always treated her nurses fairly and so you never minded working with her.

“Hey Nat, you finished for the day too?”

“Yeah,” she said a little breathlessly. “I dashed to the locker room before someone tried to rope me into doing something else.” You both laughed, knowing how easy it would be to become drawn into another case and never leave.

“I don’t blame you. Have a good one, Nat.” You waved her goodbye as you exited the room and made your way down the crowded corridor. People pushed and shoved against you as you fought to make your way to the exit. Outside wasn’t much better, the ambulance bay was packed, with EMTs running around, and there were patients seated in the back of the vehicles waiting to be admitted. Sighing you shook your head, weaving through the vehicles and onto the street. There were queues as far as the eye could see, rush hour traffic back to back. Each car contained a bad-tempered face as they watched the clock tick by while staying stationary in the sea of cars. This was the bonus of walking to work, you only lived a few blocks away so it seemed pointless to be driving anyway. Today was a special day, a new bookshop had opened on the corner of Main Street and you just so happened to know the owner.

Bradley Bradshaw had been your best friend since High School, you’d been joined at the hip and had only spent a handful of days apart since you’d met. While you’d gone off to med school to become a nurse, Bradley had studied English Literature and History. You’d been college roommates, but Bradley had moved in with his boyfriend shortly after college so you shared with Mickey and Rueben, two airline pilots who were so rarely home that you basically had the place to yourself. Bradley had broken up with his boyfriend three months ago and so had decided to fulfil his childhood dream of owning a bookshop.

The walk to the shop wasn’t far and you reached it in record time, pushing open the wooden door and letting yourself in.

“Bradley,” you called out, trudging down between the isles of books, running your hand along the leather-bound novels, paperbacks and hardbacks, encyclopedia and dictionaries. You’d always loved reading, thinking of nothing better than sitting in a cosy corner with your nose stuck in a book. It was one of the main reasons you and Bradley had become friends, bonding over a book you were reading in the school library. A loud bang came from the back of the store and a rather frazzled-looking Bradley appeared in the doorway. His disheveled brown hair was sticking up at all angles and his eyes were wide. He called out to you in surprise before rushing over and pulling you into a hug.

“Alright big guy, steady on, I’m post night shift and barely functioning.” He laughed as he walked into the back and you could hear him put the kettle on.

“What happened to the girl I knew in High School who could go out to party until the early hours of the morning and still sit her anatomy exam the next day.”

“I got old,” you moaned, sagging down onto the worn red sofa that occupied the corner of the shop. Bradley gave you a bemused look before going and making you both a cup of coffee.

“Oh, my life source,” you hummed, taking a small sip from your drink. “This is what gets me through the day.”

“You have got to drink more water, Sweetheart.” You smiled at your nickname, it had been the one Bradley had used since the start of your friendship and you loved it. You’d only ever had two boyfriends but neither of them called you ‘Sweetheart’ as Bradley did.

“So you got any new books yet?” You asked, looking at Bradley out of the corner of your eye as you drank. Bradley snorted, throwing his arm over the back of the sofa.

“I literally opened the shop today, you’re my first customer.”

“But do you have any new books?” You looked at him quizzically and he sighed, standing up and collecting a cardboard box from the counter.

“Here’s a few new ones I haven’t put out yet, but don’t…” It was too late, you had already dived into the box, ready to devour whatever new novel you found. There wasn’t anything exciting, some you had already read and others just didn’t hold your interest but one you noticed was one of your favourites, a book you’d loved since your childhood, ‘The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.

“I knew you’d like that one,” Bradley beamed at you. You grinned back, picking the book up and flicking through the first few pages. This book was new and shiny, the red leather binding was not worn and the pages were not creased. Your copy has been well used and well loved and it showed, but you read it again regardless.

“You can take it if you want,” Bradley nodded towards the book carelessly. You looked down at the book again, fighting the urge to stuff it into your bag.

“No, I can’t. I want someone else to love it as much as I do, but maybe we could have a little fun with it.” Bradley’s brow furrowed as he watched you draw a pen out of your pocket and start scribbling on the front page of the book. He looked even more confused when you snapped the book shut and placed it carefully back into the box.

“What was all that about?” He gave you a bemused look and you just smiled. He groaned, “please tell me it’s not another one of your clues you do. None of the guys ever responded in college when you did it. No one else manages to crack your codes.”

“Just wait and see, maybe there will be a guy that’s smarter than those idiot college boys you dated.” You stood up, dusting your scrubs off and picking your bag up off the floor. “And anyway the code isn’t even that hard.”

“Easy for you to say. You're such a hopeless romantic. I’m afraid to say it but life isn’t like all those romcoms you watch. People don’t meet the love of their life in a bookshop, love, it just doesn’t happen.” Bradley had a point but you weren’t about to agree with him. You’d been on multiple failed dates and had even let Bradley sign you up for online dating, which you hated and deleted almost immediately. You loved the idea of love, where the characters had a meet-cute and fell hopelessly in love, there had to be some drama but then it always ended happily. You sighed. “Well, I better be heading home. Post night shift and all.” Bradley shook his head, he’d always found it amusing how often you’d remind people you’d done a night shift even if you weren’t that tired, it was like your get-out-of-jail-free card.

“Alright, hard-working, woman of the world. I’ll see you later, yeah?” You nodded at him, waving goodbye. Bradley called after you. “I’ll let you know when Mr Right buys the book.”

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