#the chapters are like little short stories

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Eight

Summary: Jungkook's feelings for you have grown immensely and he can't hold himself back from being honest anymore. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 2.6K~ (I know it's short but it was at a good stopping point and I couldn't figure out how to continue it without a big time skip/harsh break so yeah enjoy this mini chapter 😅) Warnings: No warnings just fluff a/n: Another almost four months and I only have a little bit for you 😔 I'm still trying to figure out how I want to go about finishing this story (yes it's close to the end) so please bear with me 😪 but either way I hope you enjoy!

Ever since I told him last month that I didn't want to be friends anymore and by default telling him that I wanted to be with him things have been different.

We've settled into a new routine with the tension between us no longer burning to the point I shy away but something that feel natural, domestic even. 

I guess you could say that's pretty obvious from the fact that we're living together but his subtle touches are welcomed and expected.

Things as simple as his hand on my lower back as he passes by or his arms wrapped around me from behind with his chin propped up on my shoulder or even a kiss on the forehead are all things that we've settled into and it makes me feel loved. 

Love is still a scary word for me to think about or even say aloud but it's something I feel towards him, deeply, hopelessly, painfully.

At times I remember that things could suddenly change without warning. That he could toss me out as soon as he gets fed up with waiting like Jared did. That he cou-. 

"Ow!" I cry out when he pinches my side, "What was that for?" I whine, the spot he abused  already sore. "I've been calling your name for five minutes and you didn't respond so..." he chuckles and I hum, not having the energy to scold him further. 

He wraps his arms around my waist and props his chin on my shoulder just like I had been thinking about while spacing out, leaving me relaxing into him, the feeling of being in his arms taking away some of the anxiety that had started to build. 

"You okay?" he asks, placing a kiss on my cheek to which I hum again, nodding along with it. "You sure, because you've been stirring your coffee for the past seven minutes" he says, my hand stilling once he points it out. 

I take a drink of the completely cold beverage and sigh in defeat, realizing that his words are true. 

"I wanted it cold anyways" I mumble and turn to walk over to the freezer to add some ice, Jungkook letting go but still staying close. 

"Something's wrong" he says after observing me for another second or two, very used to reading my body language. "Nothing's wrong I'm just...tired" I reply and the truth is I am. 

"My internship has been kicking my ass and I don't know, I guess it's all starting to catch up to me" I relent and he takes a turn humming, knowing I'm not telling him the whole truth. 

"You know you can tell me anything right?" he says, coming closer and cradling my face in his hands, granting him a sad smile in return. 

"I know, but I promise I'm fine. It's just been a long week that's all" he studies my features for a while and decides to take my word for it, seeing that I'm not ready to talk about it. He nods his head a tiny bit before leaning in and giving me a soft kiss on my lips, one that lasts but a moment before pulling away.

"You wanna watch something tonight?" he asks and I smile as my answer, making him chuckle. "I'll make the snacks if you wanna go choose" he offers and I nod, my face still cradled in his hands so he gives me one last kiss before letting go and leaving our source of entertainment up to me.

~~~~

As the movie we've already watched and fallen in love with plays Jungkook notices my absence even though I'm cuddled up next to him, my reactions being minimal to nonexistent.

The parts we always laugh at are met with the sounds of his enjoyment and not mine so he pauses it and waits for me to notice which I don't for a while leaving him even more worried. 

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours Bunny? Did I do something wrong?" he asks and I sit up, needing him to know that he hasn't. "No, no you've been wonderful, better than I deserve honestly" I say, mumbling the last part but of course he hears it loud and clear.

"I'm good to you because I love you and you do deserve it, that's all" he admits so freely that I almost don't catch it. "You...what?" I ask, almost too scared to breathe. "I love you" he says with a crooked smile, clearly enjoying my practically speechless state.

I sit there for a minute, stunned into silence, not having expected that at all but he just laughs. "What? You didn't think I loved you?" he asks, brushing a stray strand of hair off of my face, letting his fingers trail down my neck before withdrawing his hand.

"No...I mean maybe? Isn't it a little too early for I love you's?" I ask, tentative to say it after I had been burned by...

"I don't think so. I mean it might be forward but I've loved you for a long time and I've cared about you even longer. You're someone that has been a constant in my life for many many years and the fact that you've given me permission to hold you, kiss you...well it's something that I don't think I can hold back anymore" he confesses, making me feel as though my heart might explode. 

"I-" "You don't have to say anything. Take your time and only say it if you truly mean it Darling. I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for" he says, chancing caressing my face again and rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip. 

"Come here" he says and pulls me in, having me straddle him not for anything sexual but just for the need to hold me close. 

I burry my face in his neck and he rubs my back, knowing that I feel vulnerable since although he's not rushing me, I know he'll be waiting for an answer. 

"I'm scared" I mumble against his skin and he hums, understanding the situation honestly more than I wish he did. He witnessed the ups and downs of the relationship between Jared and I and sat on the sidelines, knowing he could treat me better but caring about me too much to take away my right to make my own decisions and choose who I love even if it wasn't him. 

"Take your time Bun. You know I'll always be here for you, no matter how long it takes" he reassures me of what I knew, making me nod and wrap around him even tighter, taking his words as genuine but still terrified that this could all slip away at any moment. 

~~~~

A week goes by and I still haven't said it and it's killing me.

When he says goodbye he says it, whenever we've been intimate he says it, he even says it randomly just to try to make me smile but my mind won't truly let it sink in until I say it back.

"Baby?" he asks, knocking on my partially ajar door, seeing that I've been taking a little while longer to get out of bed this morning. 

I hum and let him come in, trying to assess the state I'm in before saying anything else as he comes and sits down on my side of the bed, looking down at me and placing his hand on my waist. I'm still laying down, not having made an effort to get up just yet which I know worries him as well but he doesn't push me too hard. 

"You not feeling well?" he asks, now going to check my temperature with the back of his hand but not noticing a fever of any sort making his theory very short lived. "No, just tired" I say quietly, not having spoken a word since I woke up, my voice still raspy which I can tell he enjoys but doesn't comment on this time.

"You want me to make you something? It's already lunch time and you haven't eaten all day huh?" he asks, knowing the answer but still allowing me the chance to reply. "Yeah maybe something simple like a sandwich?" I request and he nods.

"Want me to get it from that sandwich place we love?" he suggests, rubbing small circles on my waist but I shake my head. "No I'm craving one of your sandwiches" I say making him smile, knowing one of his favorite forms of praise is compliments on his cooking. 

"Okay Bun, the usual?" he asks, knowing exactly what I want but asking just in case I'm feeling like something a little different today but I nod my head in approval making him lean down and place a kiss on my forehead before asking if I want him to bring it up here to which I decline. 

"I need to get out of bed at some point" I say and he shrugs, "You're allowed to have a lazy day every once in a while if you'd like. I could even come join you later on?" he proposes making me smile, in favor of his suggestion. 

"Can we take a nap after lunch?" I ask and he smirks a bit, testing the waters to see what I'm actually asking for. "Just a regular nap this time" I roll my eyes leaving him sighing dramatically before leaving, telling me he'll call me down when it's ready.

Once he's gone the doubt that has been plaguing my mind comes circling back.

'What if he's just saying that to take pity on me? What if he's saying it to rush me into something I'm not ready for? What if-' I groan, cutting off the spiral that I send myself down every time I'm alone and throw the blankets off before going into my bathroom and throwing cold water on my face, glaring at myself in the mirror, daring me to keep acting like this.

He loves me. He loves...me. Why am I so torn up about this? People say it all the time so it's not like it's the end of the world. It's just that...well next time I say it I want to mean it. The next time I say it I want it to be real. 

I want to say it to the man that I'll promise to say it to forevermore. 

Call me a hopeless romantic all you want but if I'm going to trust someone with my heart again I don't want to regret it...

~~~~

"Here you go Bunny" he says and places my sandwich in front of me. "I love you" I mumble, softer than I've ever said anything before but it makes his movements stutter. 

"What was that Darling?" he asks, sitting down in the seat next to me at the table. "I um...I said 'Thank you'" I chicken out and although he wants to call me out on it he doesn't.

"You're welcome baby" he says, his smile a little brighter when he realizes that I'm trying, that I want to say it too but I just don't have the confidence yet. 

"Anything for you" he finishes and caresses my cheek before getting up and grabbing his plate along with our drinks. 

"You sure you're feeling alright?" he asks, my silence through lunch palpable since whenever he tries to start up a conversation I give him small short answers that make his efforts die in his throat. 

"I've just been feeling a little funky that's all" I say and he hums, contemplating his next words which surprise me. "I'm sorry" he says, defeated and honestly quite vulnerable. "Why are you apologizing?" I ask, not thinking that he would have done anything that would require something like that. 

"I knew you weren't ready and I rushed things but I wanted to be able to say what I felt for you because it was eating me alive. Having to cut off my sentences and not being able to speak my mind fully, holding you as close to my heart as possible but not being able to tell you that you had it in the palm of your hand already I just...I couldn't do it anymore" he says, his whole demeanor shifted into an almost sorrowful state that I can't hold it back anymore.

I can't keep hurting him like this when all I want to do is scream it for all to hear, even if the thought terrifies me.

"I love you" I say making his head pop up from it's dropped state, then feeling guilty and looking at his lap again as a result. "You don't have to say it just because I did. I just wanted to apologize because I know that that's was why you've been feeling so off lately" he says but I shake my head. 

"The thought of giving my heart to someone again scares the shit out of me. After...well after going through all of that the thought of opening myself up again was not something I wanted to do. I will admit I sought you out out of lust at first but as our friendship and eventual relationship began to grow I realized that I cared about you a whole lot more that I should" I say, me now with my head turned down, not being able to keep the intense eye contact he's giving me, hanging on every word. 

"I didn't know if you were doing these things for me because you felt sorry or because you truly cared. I know now that doubting your motives was honestly my own self doubt getting the best of me. You've done nothing but love and care for me since the beginning and I haven't let myself fully process the fact that I'm..." I cut myself off and take a deep breath.

"The fact that I'm falling in love with you" and although he said those words first the admission alone has me feeling as though he hadn't, as if he would change his mind now that I reciprocated his confession but he does anything but that, further confirming his true intentions for me as he pulls me closer. 

He doesn't pull me in with a carnal passion in mind, he doesn't even pull me in for a kiss, he pulls me in and holds me close, telling me wordlessly that he's proud of me. That he's proud of me for taking that step, for trusting him with my heart, my mind, soul, fully consumed by him without abandon.

"Thank you" he whispers, his face being buried in my hair making me laugh at the ticklish feeling. "Don't make it weird" I say and poke his side making him flinch and hold me tighter. "How can I not? The woman I love loves me back" he chuckles and when I try to pull back he squeezes me tighter. 

"Just let me have my moment" he huffs making me sigh and return his crushing embrace. "I love you" he says making me burry my face into his neck, mumbling it against his skin in return. 

"Nah nah nah, say it like you mean it" he says, pushing me back just enough so he can look at me. "But I do mean it!" I roll my eyes, playing into his pouty act. "Come on, say it!" he says, pushing me back and forth, making me sway. 

"I already said it, why do you need to hear it again?" I chuckle when his pout gets deeper. "Okay fine" I give in making his brows raise at my quick defeat. "I love you" I whisper in his ear and then run away, his hold on me having loosened from pure shock of my honesty, knowing now that I truly truly mean it. 

"Get back here!" he scolds once he's come back down to earth, the surprise replaced with determination, his intentions being to not let me go til sunrise.  

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[thewadapan]

Maybe Nost's best story! Also his least fun. Definitely did not like reading most of it. Would recommend reading... maybe any of the others over this one?

I think with The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen, Nost has managed to write a book which is haunted.

Stepping back a little. Herschel Schoen seems to have been conceived almost as a short story, which only happens to be as long as it is as a result of the (deliberately) belaboured and verbose prose used by all the narrators. It's much closer to The Northern Caves in this respect, which I remember as being mostly straightforward and intelligible, with only the highly-divisive ending leaving me with a dangling "??????" to grapple with. Meanwhile, with Floornight and Almost Nowhere, I often struggled to keep up with the object-level facts of what was even happening in the plot/world, and I feel like I mostly read those stories "on vibes", following them mostly in terms of their subtext.

So yeah, Herschel Schoen to me felt like it was using the "fairytale" format of being a Christmas story to streamline things as much as possible, such that both the object-level events of the story and the batshit conceptual-melting-pot subtext were more or less legible to me, despite Herschel's incredibly unreliable prose. There is a sense in which it feels like a children's story to me. It has very few characters, and those characters are extraordinarily archetypal.

So I do think Almost Nowhere retains its crown as Nost's most ambitious, most revolutionary, and most complex novel—if I say that I found Herschel Schoen "better", it's only because I feel I was able to understand it. It speaks more to my failure as a reader than anything.

In terms of my experience as a reader, it was fairly similar to that described by @recordcrash in his review. Most of the story is a fucking struggle to get through, mostly because of... the prose? The pacing? These issues are really the same issue: what few events occur in the book take ages to describe, and the fact that every recounting takes forever means that there physically isn't room to cram in more events. And as Makin Recordcrash puts it: I just don't enjoy hearing the thoughts of an unwell mind, particularly at length. All of Nost's books have it, this entirely-made-up concept which "you just wouldn't understand" but which it nevertheless will tell you about at length. There's Salby and mundum in The Northern Caves, there's Azad and the aliens in Almost Nowhere, there's whatever the metaphysics shit was in Floornight (I forgor), and this is the book that has the most of it, proportionally.

(My girlfriend bounced right off it- actually, let me use this opportunity to tell a story. When we first met, we were talking about the internet or something, and for whatever reason at one point I unironically said something like "oh yeah I read this cool novel set on a forum but you probably wouldn't have heard of it" and she just went "oh do you mean The Northern Caves?" and I briefly became convinced that she was some sort of psyop intended to oneshot me, a notion I have still not been able to shake over two years later. Point is her remark on the first two chapters of Herschel Schoen was something like "it's too Nostalgebraist for me", which I think is understandable.)

Anyway, like Makin, I struggled with most of the book, only for Chapter 21 to be so fucking good that it sort of retroactively made the rest of the book good, at least insofar as it was mostly necessary to set up such an audacious ending? Even knowing that this had been Makin's reaction, I wasn't prepared to believe it—again, usually Nost books are very much the other way around—but lo and behold, the twist is in fact very clever, very fun to read, and very aligned with my aesthetic interests.

All that said, I do feel like Makin sort of bombed through the book (by comparison, it's taken me almost two weeks to finish it), and maybe missed out on some of the more fun and interesting stuff the book is doing on a thematic level. Below, I'll try to delve into my interpretations in more detail.

I've seen a few takes from people that the main thematic throughlines of this book are a bit disconnected from one another, but to me this couldn't be further from the truth.

I identified four main themes, in descending order of prominence: "neurodivergence", "AI", "media", and "capitalism". I guess you could say "Christmas" is something of a fifth ur-theme, which dovetails into these in superficial ways:

Neurodivergence—the idea of "believing in Santa Claus" is framed as stunted development, a delusion which reveals someone to be less mature mentally than they are physically. The book is specifically concerned with contrasting dysfunctional "child" behaviour with functional "adult" behaviour, flipping these ideas on their head by having Ruth and Miriam basically lose it over the course of the story. A sister inverted. Also, the "preparations" needed to be made before Christmas morning are very much analogised with obsessive compulsions, right?

AI—like Santa Claus, something which promises to fulfil all our wishes, instantly, at the same time.

Media—particularly in terms of relations between Christianity and... secular Christmas, right? The story is very much riffing on the structure of Christmas stories specifically. To me, it feels like a world literally dreamed up based on Christmas stories. That, more than anything, is why it's set in New York, I think.

Capitalism—notions of "wanting", of meritocracy. I don't know, we all know "A Christmas Carol", I don't need to explain this one.

Like, if I had to guess at the genesis of this book, based on Nostalgebraist's comments, I feel like it's taking the starting point of "story about what if the AI doomers were right" -> "through the lens of Christmas" -> "[everything else in the story]". Of course there are tons of other influences in there, but those to me feel like the two ideas with the most explanatory power.

But even if you discount the underlying idea "Christmas", I don't think you could tell a good story about AI (in its current form) without writing about neurodivergence, media, or capitalism. If we're tasked with imagining a non-human mind, it makes sense to first imagine the most-non-human human mind, right? If we're talking about the machine's output, its facsimile of media, we have to talk about the real thing too, right? And if we're asking about the purpose of AI, what exactly it is we're trying to industrialise, what scarcity we are trying to erase, then we have to talk about capitalism as well! For me this was all perfectly obvious, I dunno.

I was pleased that I noticed many of the same things @weaselandfriends identified in his list of observations on the book. When it described the wall of doors in the living room, my mind went, "that's fucking weird!", though I didn't really think too deeply about it. The same things goes for all the anachronisms, which I think is one of the story's best gimmicks. Yes, for most of the story, they serve to create a "timeless" atmosphere, evoking all these Christmas stories at once, while simultaneously putting into doubt the reality of what Herschel and Miriam are describing.

But then, of course, with the twist, I think it's pretty hard not to read these as anything other than hallucinations conjured by the AI. And what I think is particularly brilliant is that the story at no point calls direct attention to the anachronisms as being of particular significance—you only notice them because you know enough "facts" about the real world to notice them—which naturally calls into question the elements of the story which are wholly ficticious, where there's no ground truth to compare against. Just how real are Herschel, Miriam, Ruth, anyone!? And does it even matter how real they are?

Part of the book's "magic trick", as I read it, is that both interpretations of Herschel's POV are able to coexist within the reality of the story. We can imagine that there really existed a boy perhaps called Herschel Schoen (just as we can imagine there really existed a guy called Jesus? This is silly, pretend I didn't say that) who perhaps lived in New York City and lived with some kind of delusion, perhaps regarding an Original Creation that only babies remember. Like, even this much isn't certain, perhaps Herschel is entirely hallucinated; the story is in fact preoccupied with the question of whether or not there's even any difference. Anyway, at some point, the AI apocalypse happens (I think this is one thing we can be pretty confident about), and for the AI's own purposes, Herschel is resurrected/recreated (again like Christ- disregard this aside!) in an "emended" form, where whatever changes are made mean that he is in fact right about the Original Creation and the future etc, his mind really was tampered with. The concept of "emendation" seems to me to be the biggest point in favour of the book overall believing that a substitution is not the same as the original; that the "transformation" of one shape into another does not mean it becomes the other, as its own history remains distinct (much as the "original" events of whatever happened to the "original" Herschel on the "original" Christmas Day can be said to have, in some sense, happened—and cannot, should not, be "forgotten"). But maybe these elements of the story were intended to be disparate, though, or related in some other way, and I'm just conflating them?

One of my favourite interpretations that I've seen raised in a couple of places is that Herschel's writings, with which he literally armours himself, are in fact literally protecting him against oblivion, because the AI can only learn based on the written word or recorded speech. It doesn't really matter what happens to the papers, so long as they are written at all. Herschel pours so much of himself into those papers so as to be understood, and in the end he is understood—if not by Miriam and Ruth, then by the only being he needs to be understood by: this machine. He secures his own existence, in at least some limited form, in the "Original Creation", simply through his writing. I think Herschel is the "most real" part of the story.

It's Miriam, though—the second-"most real" element—that I think makes this story haunted. It's the way she packs all those papers into a suitcase, and for the briefest of moments you can breathe a sigh of relief, that we're one step closer to understanding how this book came to be, in-universe. But immediately, it's obvious that this explains nothing, it explains less than nothing, because there are all these chapters which just don't fit, they can't be neatly contained in that suitcase. Bavitz draws direct parallels between the inexplicable frame narrative and the anachronisms, and he's absolutely right to do so. The story is often very careful about providing something which looks "quite right", at a glance, but the moment you think about it, this pit opens up under you. Something about this metatextual conceit actually makes my skin crawl.

It feels pat to say, "oh, that's because it's trying to evoke AI hallucinations". I feel like that's only part of it, because again, most of Nost's novels have this to some extent. But yeah, I think if you wanna read Herschel Schoen as a horror novel, then this is what is scary about it. Conceptually, everything with Miriam mainly recalls for me the idea of "crashes" from Almost Nowhere, which were one of the big horror elements there, the idea that the world you're walking around in is actually, imperceptibly, some kind of not-world filled with not-people. But more directly, I find myself remembering a bit from the third act of OCTO (a criminally underrated and under-discussed webnovel) where a superintelligence is trying to "resurrect" a human, and keeps putting her in increasingly-lifelike simulated "habitats" to try and create the right set of "inputs" that will make her function properly—i.e., without just like, screaming. I feel like that is what we see happen to Miriam in this book. I feel like, when the lights go out, at the end, it has nothing to do with light at all: it's more that the machine just no longer needs to simulate a world for Miriam, at all. The transmission stops. And then what becomes of her?

I think this sort of brings us to Ruth, doesn't it? A big point is made about how there's a difference between "Miriam" and "my sister, Miriam". As though in the latter, the reality of "Miriam" in the training data is watered down by all these tropes surrounding sisterhood. I mean, fuck, maybe that's where the incest stuff comes from, right? I feel like similarly, there's a reading for Ruth where the AI is first conflating these images of "a mother" with these images of "a terrorist". She acts like a fucking cartoon character for much of the book, as many of the less-well-drawn characters do, and I think that's entirely deliberate. As she draws more on the "terrorist" tropes, she stops being a "mother". And again I think this is what Nostalgebraist has always done so fucking well, in that the bullshit sci-fi allegory stuff can also just be read on an entirely character-driven level: here is a resentful, neglectful, ultimately abusive mother, here's the emotional reality of that, heightened and communicated.

I think this provides a vague stab at an explanation for the beating scene that Bavitz found so confusing. It's like the AI draws on this trope of like... the mother, in the kitchen, with the frying pan. It puts the pan in her hand. But it's not actually a frying pan, it's just the image of a frying pan. In reality, did Herschel's mother beat him? How did she beat him? Hell, maybe she didn't, maybe the AI just got so caught up in playing out the trope of the abusive parent that is gets to the point of this beating, and then just dream-logics itself to the next thing in its training data, where of course the beating never happened. I don't like that, it feels like we're gaslighting the kids here (which I think is very much the allegory intended) by saying it was just a hallucination. I think something like it happened in reality, and cannot, should not, be "forgotten". But I think the book does want you to think that its depiction does, in some way, break from reality. Hell, in much the same way that child abuse might be said to break the reality of family? Nah, that's too pat, isn't it?

I guess what I'm trying to get at here is that, ironically, I found the novel was at its best, and at its most human, when it was writing frankly about the experience of mental illness, about family, about institutions, about childhood. So what's maybe frustrating is that I'm not actually convinced Nost is capable of writing a... shall we call it a "normal" story about those things? A story with no metatextual bullshit, no sci-fi conceit, but a realist story. There are parts of all his books, where I really think that the explanation for why they are the way they are is that they are "bad on purpose", and all the bullshit is a way of turning these shortcomings into strengths. The self-effacing voice which whispers that the characters aren't sufficiently well-drawn, are too cartoonish—well, what if that was the point? What if there was a reason for that, in the story?

But honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. Straightup, if these were normal stories set in reality, I wouldn't be fucking reading them. This is a web author who's trained himself on a bunch of classic lit, and a bunch of anime or whatever, and has smooshed those influences together and rocket-fuelled the result. It's inimitable. I deeply admire just how experimental Nostalgebraist's writing is. No-one else is doing it like him.

Anyway, what else. Herschel gets described as having a "shell" at various points, and Frederick's surname is "Eggert". Is that anything?

The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen

My fourth novel, The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen, is now available in full.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

[amkyor]

K. BAKUGO SHORT STORY ᡣ𐭩

Hands Off:

You sat on the couch, your eyes fixed on the movie playing on the screen, but your focus wasn’t on the plot.

Instead, you kept glancing over at Katsuki, who was sitting stiffly on the other side of the couch.

“Katsuki, are you mad at me?” you asked softly, your voice breaking the silence.

He didn’t answer right away, his crimson eyes flicking toward you for a moment before looking away.

His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and his usual confident demeanor seemed unusually reserved.

“No,” he grumbled, his voice low.

“Then why won’t you come over here?” You patted the space beside you, trying to coax him closer.

“I’m fine right here,” he replied, his jaw tight.

You frowned, sitting up straighter. “Okay, what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all evening.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he muttered, still avoiding your gaze.

“Katsuki,” you said firmly, sliding closer despite his attempt to create distance. “Tell me.”

He sighed heavily, finally uncrossing his arms and letting his hands rest on his knees.

His palms were glistening slightly, and he clenched them into fists as if trying to hide the evidence. “My damn hands won’t stop sweating,” he admitted through gritted teeth.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Your hands?”

“Yeah,” he snapped, frustration clear in his tone.

“They’ve been like this all day. I don’t want to touch you and—” He stopped himself, his expression darkening. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you reached out to place your hand gently on his arm. “Katsuki, I’m not afraid of a little sweat.”

“It’s not just sweat,” he said, pulling his arm away. “You know how my quirk gets when my hands are like this. I’m not risking it.”

You moved closer, ignoring his protests, and gently took one of his hands in yours.

He stiffened, his eyes wide with concern, but you didn’t let go.

“Katsuki,” you said softly, looking up at him. “I trust you. You’ve got more control over your quirk than anyone I know.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking between your face and your hand in his. “But what if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’” you interrupted, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to pull away from me just because you’re worried. We’re in this together, remember?”

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he finally let himself hold your hand.

“You’re too damn stubborn,” he muttered, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

“And you love me for it,” you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Tch. Maybe,” he grumbled, his free hand coming up to rest lightly on your back.

As the movie continued, Katsuki’s grip on your hand grew more confident, the tension in his body melting away.

And though his hands stayed warm and slightly damp, you didn’t mind one bit.

FANFIC RECOMMENDATION ᡣ𐭩

Adult Bakugo x Female Reader Fanfic

[potatoplace]

A Place In This World

The Afterthought: Chapter 5 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

chapter 4 | chapter 6 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Working at Sevenda's is a welcome escape from the River House, where you've become little more than a ghost after Starfall.

Warnings: toxic family, depression, self deprecating thoughts (none of them are too terrible this chapter)

Words: ~8.4k

Author's Note: I never seem to get as far in the plot as I want to in every update... This chapter isn't too crazy exciting, but there's some sweet moments and a little bit of angst with the sisters. I hope you all enjoy this update! Title is of course from Miss Swift 🫶

18+ only pls

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Your neck was stiff when you came to, the beginnings of the morning sun spilling across your face.

The ground outside was glistening with a fresh layer of snow, nearly untouched at this time in the morning. It seemed even the early risers had chosen to sleep in today, after the revelry of Starfall last night.

You, however, wouldn't stay asleep any longer. Not with the cold numbness slithering through your chest, curling itself around your heart, your lungs, your ribs. An absent hand came to rub at your chest, to bring some semblance of life into your hollow heart once more.

No such luck.

A glance at the clock that had recently been placed above your bedroom door told you that it was half past six.

That gave you two and a half hours to bathe, drink tea, possibly eat something, dress, and make your way to Sevenda's.

You did just that, sinking down into hot water, a sigh leaving your lips as your body soaked in the heat. You could almost pretend you felt alive.

After forcing yourself from the bath, you dressed in a simple, dark green dress. It was made of cozy wool, and the long sleeves were easily pushed up to make whatever work Sevenda would give you easier. It fit you loosely and reached to just above the tops of your feet, something you were grateful for after last night.

The feel of all those males' eyes on you... It was unsettling then, and unsettling to think about now. You could hardly imagine wanting to be looked at like that by someone you actually liked, let alone by strangers... How could Feyre stand it? How could anyone stand it? You supposed each person was different...

You shook your head, clearing those thoughts away. No need to contemplate how inexperienced you are in the romantic world, despite what Nesta claims.

Quietly, you crept downstairs, keeping an ear out for anyone who might be awake, teapot in hand. Thankfully, no one was in the kitchen yet, and you were able to prepare a pot of tea with no interruptions. Safely ensconced in your room again, you sipped at the lovely orange and cinnamon tea you had made.

As you stared out at the still-sleeping city, your mind drifted to last night. How Feyre had had no time for you, and Mor hadn't appeared while you had been in the House of Wind. Feyre had been crowded by the citizens of her city, that was understandable... Mor not showing up worried you though, but you were sure there was an explanation. And your other sisters and their mates, well, you hadn't believed they would interact with you anyways.

Azriel had been... Surprising. Caring. Sweet, almost. Him noticing that you had left wasn't something you had even considered, with how close he had been with the pretty redheaded friend of Nesta's. And... You had become accustomed to not having your absence noticed.

Your eyes closed for a moment, a wave of sadness washing over you.

You still felt so alone.

The minutes continued ticking past as you stared blankly out the window, sipping on your tea when you remembered to.

Soon enough, it was fifteen minutes until nine, and you peeled yourself out of the armchair. Boots first, then the short cloak, scarf, and mittens Azriel had given you for Solstice- also the ones that he had draped around you last night in the cold.

You wondered how he had gotten them...

You just barely remembered to grab the cup that Sevenda had lent to you before you snuck out of the River House, into the snowy city.

The walk to Sevenda's was peaceful, quiet. Most citizens of Velaris seemed to still be sleeping, and the blanket of snow on the ground muffled everything. The silence of the normally bustling city matched the feeling in your heart.

Empty. Cold. Quiet.

Sevenda's was warm already, the smell of spices lingering pleasantly in the air when you pushed your way in through the door.

"Ah, Y/N! Lovely to see that you decided to come in," Sevenda's warm voice greeted you from the left, a hand waved in greeting.

"It's nice to see you too, Sevenda. And thank you, again. I really appreciate the offer. I brought back your cup," you added, raising your hand to show it.

"Thank you, dear," Sevenda said, taking said cup from your hands. "Would you like to get started?"

You nodded your head, and let the fae lead you to the back of the restaurant, into the kitchens. It was large, with multiple shiny, silver stoves along the back wall, three matching cold boxes, a wall completely taken up by pots, pans, anything that you would need to cook. There was also counter space galore, with two other fae already working dough in the far corner.

"For today, I'm going to see how you do with prep work, mainly with fruits, vegetables, and meats. If you do well, I'll keep you on full time, if you'd like," Sevenda said, her words sparking a bit of hope in your chest.

Chopping, dicing, cutting. You could do that.

"That sounds perfect, Sevenda. Thank you for giving me this chance."

Sevenda smiled warmly at you, and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Of course, dear. Now... Are you feeling alright?" She asked more quietly, a concerned look in her eyes.

You nodded. Even though you weren't, you didn't want to rehash last night's events. "Yes, thank you." You even shot her a smile that you hoped was at least half-convincing, relieved when she returned the expression. "What should I start with?"

"First, you'll need an apron and to wash your hands," Sevenda said, leading you to the large sink, which conviently had a plethora of aprons hanging on hooks next to it.

You did as she asked, scrubbing your hands under hot water halfway up your forearm, dress sleeves already pushed up to your elbows. You tied a dark blue apron around your neck and waist, and faced Sevenda, who was pulling a cutting board from a cabinet. You noted the location, wanting to be as useful as possible as often as possible.

"I'll start you off by demonstrating how I like everything to be cut, and you'll do the same thing right after. I know it will be a lot to take in, but most of it is fairly simple. Let me know if you have any questions, alright?"

"Alright," you said resolutely, nodding your head.

The hours passed quickly, filled with you absorbing the information that Sevenda was feeding you through her demonstrations, taking in every angle that she used the knife at. You did decently, your cuts a bit clumsier than Sevenda's but still accurate enough. She was kinda, reassuring you that in time, you'd gain confidence and surety in your movements.

It was lovely.

Feeling needed. Feeling useful. You had entirely forgotten how that felt over the last two years, being the extra sister with no magic to help in a way that someone else couldn't.

By the time your shift was finished, Sevenda had pulled you aside to speak with you, anxiety building in your gut even as she smiled warmly at you.

"I'd like to hire you on immediately, full-time if you'd like," Sevenda offered, a twinkle in her eyes. "You've already got the basics down, and you're on track to catch up with my other prep cooks so long as you keep at it with the same enthusiasm you showed today. So... Would you like to have a job?"

A smile- a true, unburdened smile spread over your lips. "I'd love to, Sevenda. Thank you so, so much for this opportunity."

"Thank you for solving my dilemma of hiring a new prep cook, Y/N! Now, do you have an account with the Bank of Velaris already?"

You thought for a moment before answering. "I do... But it's the one that Rhys and Feyre set up for me. Would I be able to make a new account?"

You still felt like such a child, knowing so little about how the city you lived in worked. You had spent so long wishing and longing to leave that you'd hardly taken the time to learn about Velaris. Seeing how you were stuck here, likely permanently... The thought sent a pang of sickness to your stomach. But still, since you were stuck here, you might as well start learning about the city in which you will die.

"I'm sure that could be set up... Would you like any help with it?" Sevenda asked.

"That would be amazing, but you don't have to," you said, hoping that she didn't feel forced to help you, after your breakdown last night.

"Oh, nonsense, I'd love to help you Y/N. We can go in a few minutes, I just have a few more questions for you. Now... Would you like to work five or six days a week?"

That was an easy choice. "Six days would be best, I think." Less time in that house, waiting to be left out of events and dinner conversations.

"Alright, and if you ever want to go down to five days, just let me know and we can work something out. Do you have a specific day that you'd like off?" You shook your head. "Would Mondays be fine with you?"

"Mondays would be just fine," you replied. "Do you..." You paused, rolling the question over in your head. "Do you know of any apartments for rent? You don't have to answer, of course, I just thought I would ask," you said quickly, already regretting the question.

Sevenda merely smiled at you. "I do know of a few close by. Once you have a week or two of pay in your account, we could go look at a few sometime, if you'd like?"

You nodded quickly. "That would be amazing, Sevenda. Did you have any other questions for me?"

Sevenda closed her eyes for a moment before fixing them on you once more. "None that I can think of at the moment, but you'll be back tomorrow in case I forgot anything. Now, let's go get you a personal bank account," she said cheerily, rising from the table you had sat at. You followed her lead, letting her take you to the large, white marble building that had a large matching sign with, presumably, its name written in the large gold lettering on it.

Making an account was easy enough, and within the hour you had a small metal card, magically linked to your bank account in hand, your first day of pay already deposited by Sevenda.

You walked back to her restaurant with her, parting with a brief hug, initiated by Sevenda.

"I'll see you in the morning, Sevenda," you said, the words repeated back to you by the kind, chocolate eyed fae.

And then your legs carried you without thinking, back to the River House. The snow had melted just slightly, and was significantly more trampled than when you had arrived this morning. The sun was nearly set already, casting a pretty orangey-pink glow over the city.

Pretty.

The River House was warm when you entered, and thankfully there was no boisterous laughter coming from the living or dining rooms.

A part of you still longed for someone to ask where you were, what you had been doing all day.

But you knew better by now. And you were proven correct when no one came to greet you, even while you made a small dinner of rice with grilled vegetables. You even ate in the dining room, a rarity for you in the past months, the tiniest part of you hoping that Feyre might come in to talk with you. Or that Mor would show up, and you could spend part of the evening together.

Neither happened, and soon enough you were back in your room, a fresh pot of tea in hand, soothing, calming lavender and chamomile again.

You had enjoyed your day at work, but it had exhausted you. All you wanted at the moment was to fall asleep, but you chose to do something else before crawling into your makeshift bed in the tub tonight.

You would try to read. With your gift from the twins in hand, you pulled the cookbook that Nesta had gifted you, filled with lovely illustrations of soups and stews from all corners of Prythian.

Slowly, you let the magnifying glass read out the title a few times, your brain trying to make sense of the letters on the cover turning into the words you were hearing. It was embarrassing, how long it took you to be able to understand a sentence, even with it being read aloud to you. Heat rushed to your face, even with no one in the room to witness your shortcomings.

You tried reading a recipe, going one word at a time with the glass. That... Sort of worked, though it was slow going. And you felt like the only reason you were mildly successful was that the words were being read aloud to you.

How pathetic.

You sighed heavily before draining your last cup of tea and shutting the recipe book. That was enough of disappointing yourself for the night.

You stripped yourself of the dress you'd donned the morning, changing into a soft, long sleeved white cotton sleep dress that met the skin of your ankles, swishing softly against them with each step.

Sleep came easily to you that night, your body tired from doing so much work when it had grown accustomed to sleeping all day and rarely moving. It was a pleasant kind of tired, though, letting you drift into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning went much the same, with you rising before the sun to bathe and have a soothing pot of tea. Work flew by, with you completely focused on improving your knife skills for the seven hours you were there, determined to not let Sevenda down.

Before you knew it, you'd already worked three days in Sevenda's homey restaurant, settling in comfortably, even with the other fae you now worked with. Josi and Torma were the other two prep cooks, and both of them had been warm and welcoming to you. Sevenda's sous chef, Wren, had been a little less friendly, but you'd noticed that he was like that with everyone except Sevenda. He wasn't rude, or anything, just quieter.

It was on your fourth morning of work, a Saturday, that your routine was interrupted.

Azriel was in the kitchen, patiently watching a pot of oatmeal cook, shadows playing around his wings and over his shoulders, a couple of them breaking away to crawl up to his ears.

"Good morning," you said quietly, going to the cupboard that housed the kettle.

"Good morning, Y/N. You're up early," Azriel remarked in a neutral tone, neither judging nor questioning.

"Mm, thought I'd have a cup of tea before everyone else was buzzing around..." You said, feeling mildly guilty that you hadn't told him the full truth. You set to filling the water and setting it on the burner next to the one Azriel was using, then turned to grab your teapot. "Would you like a cup?" You asked before you could stop yourself and consider the possibility of being rejected, even for a simple cup of tea.

"I would very much, Y/N, thank you. Would you like some oatmeal? I'm afraid I've made too much..." Azriel said softly, a tiny frown on his face as he stared at the pot before him.

A small smile grew on your face at his reaction. "That would be nice, thank you." You pulled two of your teacups out of the cupboard. A few minutes later, the two of you were sat on stools at the kitchen island, a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of tea in front of each of you. The oatmeal was delicious, flavored with cinnamon and brown sugar, which paired well with the apple cinnamon tea you had brewed.

You ate in a comfortable silence, occasionally stifling a giggle when a shadow brushed over you, their cool touch tickling the back of your neck and your ankles. Curious little things...

Soon enough, though, it was time for you to depart from the River House, and return to the one place that you felt wanted in this city. Azriel had finished his breakfast as well, so you grabbed his dishes, ignoring his protests in favor of washing them.

"You don't have to do that, you know."

You rolled your eyes playfully, even though he couldn't see your expression. "I know that, I wanted to." Bowls, cups, silverware were all placed in the dish rack, clean and shiny from the water dripping off of them. Once that was finished, you returned to your room for a brief moment to grab your scarf and hat, and when you returned downstairs Azriel was lingering near the front door.

"Going somewhere?" Azriel asked neutrally, only a bit of curiosity in his tone.

You blinked at him once, twice. Strange, that it would be him who would know that you were employed first. "Yes, I'm going to work," you said plainly, hoping that his neutrality would continue. While you wanted your sisters to know... You wanted them to find out because they paid attention, not because Azriel had.

"Oh? Could I walk you there?" His question caught you off guard- if anything, you had anticipated him asking if Feyre or Rhys knew or had approved of the job. In your surprise, you nodded in agreement, and moments later the two of you were out the door, walking through the fresh layer of snow that had fallen overnight. You noticed a few of his shadows moving in front of you, pushing some of the snow from your path.

Cute.

"How long have you been working?" Azriel asked from your right, following the path you were taking.

"Just a few days, so far," you replied, trying to give the minimum information so you wouldn't bore him... Starting a new job was hardly an accomplishment for a fae of his age.

"Are you liking it?"

You nodded immediately. "I'm loving it already, working with food is probably the most natural choice I could have made." Too many words...

"That's wonderful, Y/N. It's nice to see you smile again," Azriel said softly, drawing your eyes to him. He was wearing a small smile on his lips, one that you realized matched your expression. A light flush spread over your cheeks- was your happiness always so obvious?

"It's nice to feel like smiling again..." You said quietly, more to the air around you than Azriel himself.

Sevenda's was in sight now, and you slowed your pace. While Azriel may just be being nice... He was still being nice to you. And having someone be kind to you was something you craved nearly every second of every day, so you wanted to savor it, even if it was selfish.

"Do..." Azriel paused, as if he was considering his words carefully. "Does Feyre know that you're working? She hasn't mentioned it."

"Uhm... No, I haven't told anyone yet," you admitted.

You saw Azriel nod his head in your peripheral, and you hoped it was one of understanding.

"Do you want them to know?"

You hesitated. "If you're asking if you can tell them... I'd rather you not."

Another nod as you approached the door to Sevenda's, stopping in front of it. "I won't tell them, then. Sevenda's, hmm?" You bobbed your head in confirmation. "That's good, she's a great boss from everything I've heard."

"She's amazing, if I can be honest," you said, gratitude in your voice. And she was. She had been so kind to you, and so helpful.

"I'm glad, Y/N," Azriel said, his voice the warmest that you had ever heard from him. "I'll let you get inside. Have a good shift."

"Thank you, Azriel. Have a good day," you said, waving goodbye to him before entering the warm restaurant, a smile on your face.

Your day passed quickly, filled with the delicious smell of spices and fresh cut vegetables, the sounds of sizzling meats and bubbling stews. This job at Sevenda's was truly a blessing, distracting both your mind and body as you listened to the friendly chatter between your coworkers and focused on what you were doing.

The River House sounded empty when you returned, completely devoid of sound. No running water, or voices in the living room. The entire night, you saw no one, not even Nuala or Cerridwen. You even spent a few minutes sipping tea in the living room - though you left quickly, feeling out of place even while alone - hoping to see Feyre for a moment. You hadn't seen her since Starfall, and... You wanted to see her. You also would have been able to ask her where Mor was, but alas, the question would have to wait.

The next evening, after your final day before having a day off, you saw Feyre for the first time in five days. She was glowing with happiness, both naturally and from the magic you knew she had gotten from... One of the High Lords - you still weren't sure which.

"Y/N! Come, sit with me for a little bit," Feyre said, dragging you onto the couch in the living room with her. You had just barely gotten your boots and scarf off before she met you in the entryway. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"It has been a bit," you agreed, settling in beside her. You glanced around, noting that Nesta and Elain were seated next to each other on the love seat, angry stares trained on you.

At least they weren't glaring yet...?

"So, how have you been?" Feyre asked you, drawing your attention away from your other sisters and back to her.

"I've been fine, Fey. Just..." You debated telling her about your job. That would also mean Nesta and Elain knowing... But... You wanted Feyre to know. "I've been... I've been working."

Nesta scoffed from where she was seated, whispering something to Elain. You frowned. What problem could she possibly have with you having a job?

"Really?" Feyre asked skeptically. "You... Where are you working?"

Her tone, the sheer disbelief in her voice had you regretting ever opening your mouth. Being honest was obviously not a good choice for you anymore. "At Sevenda's restaurant..." You said quietly, met with a dainty snort from Elain. Heat rushed to your face, especially when Feyre frowned at you, as though she didn't believe you.

"Really? That's... That's really nice, Y/N. I'm happy for you," Feyre said with a strained smile. You didn't believe her for a second.

Still... "Thank you, Feyre. What about you? How have you been feeling?"

"Tired," Feyre moaned dramatically, a hand on her forehead. "The little one seems to be draining all of my energy, I've had to start eating double what I normally do just to feel like I can function."

"Maybe you can stop by Sevenda's when Y/N is working," Nesta suggested in a snarky tone, causing Elain to giggle into her hand. "If she even works there... What Sevenda would need with you, I have no idea."

Tears pricked at your eyes, though you fought them. Why were they so mean to you?

Feyre glared at Nesta, but said nothing in your defense.

She probably agreed with Nesta's words.

"I'm sorry that you're feeling so exhausted Feyre. Maybe there's something that could be taken off your plate for a little bit, until you're feeling better?" Another scoff from Nesta.

"I don't think there is, Y/N. It takes a lot to run a court..."

You knew that. Of course you knew that. "Oh... Well, I hope that you feel better soon, then. I'm... I'm going to go take a bath. I'll see you later?"

Feyre nodded. "I'll see you later. At dinner?"

There was no way in hell you would be showing at dinner tonight. "Maybe," you said, standing from your place next to her. You made your way out of the living room, ignoring Nesta and Elain's glares, up the stairs and into your room.

Happy. You had been happy when you returned home. You were proud of the fact that you had gotten a job. And yet the three people that should have cared, should have shared in your happiness and pride? They couldn't care less. They didn't even believe you.

That only served to solidify your choice to leave this cursed house as soon as you could, to continue in your plan to have your own living space. And, of course, it put tears on your cheeks, on the blanket that you curled into as you laid in the bathtub.

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In your first three weeks of work, you never saw Mor. You did, however, receive a letter from her on your first day off, read to you by the glass the twins had gifted you. She had apologized profusely for not showing up to Starfall, though she had a good reason. The citizens of the Hewn City had demanded to have a member of the High Lord's Inner Circle stay with them through the celebration, and as the only one already there, that duty had fallen to her. And in the week since, she had been constantly fighting with Keir over the upcoming election that was planned, hardly having a moment to herself.

Which was why the letter had taken so long to be written.

You felt horrible for having thought she had abandoned you, though you knew there was a reason you had jumped to such a conclusion.

Every week since then, Mor had managed to find the time to write you a letter, each one asking about how you had been, informing you of the lastest bullshit her father had put her through. You looked forward to each letter from her, but wished that you could see her in person, or at least write a letter in response. You missed your friend. According to her most recent letter, the one that had arrived two days ago, she would be returning to Velaris for a few days in the next week.

You were excited to see her again, but more than that, you were excited to move into your apartment today.

Sevenda had shown you to two different available apartments last week, and on Monday you had signed your lease. The building was only a couple of blocks away from Sevenda's, and it was a cute little place on the third floor, with a balcony that had a decent view of the mouth of the Sidra and the harbor. You already knew that you would be taking your tea on it once the weather had warmed, the view was too amazing to pass up an opportunity to look over.

The walls inside had already been done in a shade of light pink the day before, the cabinets of the kitchen coated in a pale lavender, a move in gift from your new landlord. It was a small space, that was true. Besides the bathroom and built in closet, the apartment was one large room, with no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, the kitchen from the bedroom.

But you didn't mind.

Because it was yours.

And truly, how much space did you need? There would be enough room to have a small dining table, a loveseat and a couple of armchairs in front of the fireplace - which you had been absolutely delighted to see - and a large bed. You could even put up screens or curtains to partition off your bedroom, if you felt like it.

The possibilities felt endless as you lugged your small amount of belongings over to your new place, bursting at the seams with happiness.

Today, Sevenda had given you the day off so that you could move in, though you had tried to insist that you wouldn't need the whole day. Still, she had made it clear that you deserved the day to settle in and purchase whatever you needed, even going as far to give you a week of advanced pay.

Moving your belongings took you less than an hour, even in the snow, and only three separate trips between the River House and your apartment. The presents you had recieved for your birthday and Solstice, the clothing that you couldn't part with, skincare items, and your hairpin all went with you, but everything else in your old room stayed.

You had decided against informing anyone of your move, choosing instead to quietly remove your things. If they truly cared about you, they would notice your absence soon.

If they didn't... You would deal with that if it came.

By midday, you were shopping in the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, on the hunt for cookware. You already had the wonderful measuring cups and spoons that Nuala and Cerridwen had gifted you, as well as your tea set from Azriel, but you would need a bit more than that to be able to cook at home.

That lead to you entering a lovely little shop, filled to the brim with pots, pans, and cooking utensils in every color of the rainbow.

For now, you only bought one frying pan and one pot with a lid, both in a shade of pink that matched your measuring cups. You also purchased a set of three mixing bowls in the same shade, made of a light but durable clay. A spatula, wooden spoon, whisk, and a set of silverware also came home with you, along with a few cleaning supplies that the store happened to carry, but anything else could wait for now.

You carried your bounty home, arms sagging under the weight of your purchases as you climbed the stairs to your apartment. Everything was put away in a matter of minutes, and you allowed yourself to relax on the floor for a bit, letting your arms flop out to the sides.

You could hardly believe it... A smile crept across your face as you lay on the floor of your own apartment, that you had earned the money for. You had done this for yourself, all on your own.

Once your arms felt less weak and tired, you sat up and looked around the room. It was... Fairly barren. Your pink bedding set and blanket from Mor were in the far right corner of the apartment, the box of your clothing placed next to it. Near the door to the bathroom you had placed your box of toiletries, and in the kitchen you had already stacked your cookbooks and teas on the counter and placed your dishes in the cupboards.

You needed some kind of furniture tonight, if you could manage to find something your weak arms could carry home.

And towels! How had your forgotten about towels? Oh- and food, you would need something at least for tonight.

You let out a breath. Maybe Sevenda was right, that you would need most of the day to get settled. You got up after another moment and put your boots back on, along with your hat and scarf.

A trip to the Palace of Thread and Jewels provided you with the towels you needed, in an assortment of pastel shades and sizes, as well as a fluffy purple bath mat. You even remembered to pick out two fluffy pillows as well, just in case you slept on the floor or in the tub tonight. As you were leaving the Palace, you couldn't help but pick out a soft, sky blue blanket one of the outdoor stalls, the green skinned fae bidding you farewell with a kind smile. You walked home, snow beginning to fall just before you entered the building.

You deposited your bags on the floor to the left of your front door, and set down the stairs immediately after locking up. Before the snow started to accumulate, you wanted to get a chair or something so that you would have a place to sleep for the night. If you couldn't find anything... Well, the bathtub looked to be the same size as the one in the River House.

When you had been out earlier, you thought you had spotted a second hand store, filled with mismatched furniture. You retraced your steps, and found it to be in the middle of the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

Inside, it was cluttered, with small paths leading through the building. It was near the back of the store that you found something you might like- a tall backed, wooden chair with a pink velvet cushion and backing, the legs of the chair curved and elegant.

Why would someone ever part ways with this?

You continued to the back of the store, finding a pale, short fae male sitting behind a counter, reading a book.

"Hi, I'd, uhm... I'd like to buy a chair that you have?" You asked shyly.

"Which one?" He asked, without looking up from his book.

"The uh. The wooden chair with pink velvet on it."

"Fifty gold marks," the male said shortly, a hand extending to take your bank card and press it to his ledger, all while continuing to read. He handed it back a moment later. "Have a good day, miss."

"Thank you," you said quietly before leaving the counter, going to collect the chair into your arms.

The walk home was slow going, the chair decidedly too big for you to comfortably carry for more than a few steps at a time. But still, you made it, dragging the piece of furniture up the stairs and through your door. You managed to lug it in front of the fireplace, settling into it for a moment.

You almost decided to skip getting ingredients for dinner... But your stomach rumbled in protest, at the thought of continuing to neglect your health in favor of avoiding discomfort. So instead, you pulled yourself from your new chair, then went back down the stairs and into the snowy city one last time today.

The Palace of Hoof and Leaf was a bit further than the Palace of Bone and Salt, but you knew where to find what you were planning to cook for dinner. It was easy enough to find rice, chicken, zucchini, broccoli, and a small set of spices, a large enough selection to satisfy you for at least your first month. Snow had begun to fall heavily while you had been in and out of shops, already covering the tracks that had been on the bridge when you had crossed it earlier, and when you finally made it up the stairs and through your front door, you were feeling tired.

Tired enough that for the moment, you placed the chicken in your cold box then walked over your chair, and plopped down.

You would consider today a success, even with how tired you now were. After all, you were tired in your chair, in your apartment.

🤍🤍💙🤍🤍

Two days after you moved, you had an unexpected knock on your door, just a few minutes after you returned home from work.

Perhaps it was finally Feyre, realizing that you had moved.

You were proven wrong when you opened the door, however, to see Azriel standing before you, a cloth bag filled to the brim with little jars.

"I- Hello," you said, surprised at him being here, even if he had taken to walking you to work on the mornings he was in town. "Can I- Can I help you?"

"I just returned from Illyria, only to find one of my shadows to be very frantic over the sudden emptiness of your room," Azriel said, though there was no accusation in his tone. "And after I spoke with Sevenda, she... She directed me here. I hope that's alright?"

You were even more surprised by the efforts he had gone to to find you, than his presence at this point. "That's fine, Azriel. Was there a reason you wanted to see me?"

"I... Yes," Azriel said, somewhat shyly, and you swore that you almost saw a flush covering his cheeks. "You never did tell me which teas you enjoyed, so I brought you a jar of each. I thought you might like to have a bit more, now that you're living on your own."

That was... Incredibly sweet of him to do. You were running low on your tea stash at the moment, and knowing that he'd thought of you...

Don't get any feelings, or hints of feelings, you reminded yourself. Humans and fae don't belong together, no matter how kind and attractive they are.

"Thank you, Azriel," you said, stepping aside to let him through the doorway. It was only polite, after all, to let him in. "I'll take those," you said as you grabbed the bag from his hand, moving into the kitchen to take arrange the little jars on your counter.

"You don't have a bed," Azriel observed from behind you, a hand on your chair, where your blankets were still piled.

"Oh, I'm uhm... I'm still working on that," you said sheepishly, abandoning your task of organizing the jars. Your eyes darted over everything, looking for anything else he could find issue with.

"Let's go solve that, then."

"I- What?" You asked, thoroughly confused. He was offering to go shopping with you...?

"We can go find you a bed today, Y/N. You need something to sleep on, and while a chair is fine for a little bit, it really would be best for you to have a bed," Azriel said simply. You were still staring at him in shock, so he sighed lightly and said, "Think of it as a housewarming gift, Y/N. You can pick out whatever you want, and my shadows will bring it here for you."

"I- But... Why?" You managed to get out, even as you mentally kicked yourself for being so awkward.

Azriel's mouth turned up in the corners at your reaction. "You need a bed, and I'd like to know that you're sleeping comfortably."

"But... Why?" You repeated, still confused.

Azriel sighed and shook his head. "You're my friend, Y/N, I like to know that my friends are well taken care of. And that starts with a good night's sleep, which starts with a bed," he explained as he walked over to your closet, pulling out the scarf and hat that he had gifted you. He wrapped the scarf around your neck and put the hat on your head, lips turning up more as you stood there and let him. "Now get your boots on, unless you really don't want to go."

Your eyes narrowed playfully at him, but you did as he said, slipping your boots on and lacing them up. "Alright... Thank you, Azriel."

His lips turned up into a full smile this time, a beautiful sight on his face. "You're welcome, Y/N. Now, let's get going before it gets too dark."

You let him lead you across the Sidra, to a shop in the Palace of Flame and Steel that specialized in wooden furniture.

"Pick out whichever one you like most," Azriel had told you, with a pointed look telling you that he would know if you tried to pick the least expensive option.

He watched as you went from bed to bed, mattress to mattress trying to find the right combination. You had been in the store for nearly an hour by the time you made your choice, settling on a walnut frame. It had a nice headboard, with little creatures carved into the posts on both sides, a feature that was continued at the corners of the end of the bed. Some of them looked like little cats, a pet that you had always wanted to have but never could afford in the human lands, and when you had been able to, your family had firmly shut the idea down.

For the mattress, you had laid on one that felt like a cloud, supporting your body in a way that you had never experienced. Perhaps... Perhaps Azriel was right, after all.

You felt dreadful, though, as he paid for your new furniture, even as he reassured you that it was a housewarming present and he was more than fine paying double the amount if he had needed to.

He walked you back to your apartment, and, as promised, your new bed was already set up along the back wall, looking extremely inviting even without bedding on it.

"You should let me repay you," you insisted to Azriel, a hand on his forearm stopping him from leaving. "I can't... This is too much," you said.

Azriel's eyes shined with understanding as he read the guilt in your own. "It's okay, you know. To be given things, without the need to reciprocate. But... If you still feel that you need to repay me, I suppose you could make me dinner some time," Azriel suggested.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Are you sure I can't pay you back?"

He shook his head. "The only payment I will accept is in the form of food, Y/N. Again, this is a housewarming present, it is a gift that I am giving to you of my own free will. I am, however, partial to your cooking, which is why I would accept that as payment."

You sighed, but nodded your head. You would pay him back with food, as often as he liked. "What days are you in the city?"

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

It took two more days before Mor was in town, which you found out about two hours into your shift when she burst into Sevenda's, speaking loudly enough that you could hear her in the kitchen.

A moment later Sevenda appeared, your blonde friend in tow.

"Y/N!" Mor exclaimed, pulling you into a hug once you had set down your knife. "Oh, girl, I have missed you so much!"

You squeezed her back tightly, overjoyed to see her again. "I've missed you too, Mor!"

Mor pulled away a moment later, her face serious. "Where are all of your things? I went up to your room in the River House to see you, and none of your stuff is there! Feyre had no idea either..."

A flush spread over your cheeks. "Oh, uhm... I moved out?" You said hesitantly.

Mor blinked at you a few times before a smile slid over her face. "You... Moved out?" She giggled. "And you didn't tell anyone? Was it this morning?"

You shook your head. "No, it was on Wednesday," you admitted softly, turning your gaze to the floor.

"And Feyre didn't... Oh, sweets," Mor cooed, pulling you into another hug and stroking your hair. You pushed her away after a moment, face bright red at being comforted in front of your coworkers.

"It's okay, Mor, really. I've already accepted that they don't notice me," you said, hoping that you had successfully hidden your pain. You may have accepted that your sisters pay you no attention, but it didn't mean your heart didn't hurt.

Mor frowned at you, but accepted your answer for the time being. "Well, when are you off work? I can stop by again, and you can show me your apartment!"

"I'm normally off right around five, you could come back then."

"Sounds like a plan, sweets!" Mor said brightly before leaving the kitchen, waving at you before being shooed out by Sevenda.

You quickly got back to work, determined to make the day pass by quickly.

And it did. The next five hours went by fast, filling you with a feeling of accomplishment as you finished everything Sevenda had asked you to do a few minutes faster than usual. Something as simple as that made your day so much brighter, easier to fight away the feeling of loneliness that followed you most hours of the day.

Mor met you outside as she'd said she would, a shining ray of sunlight even as the sun had begun to set.

"So- I leave town for a few weeks, not that I wanted to," Mor grumbled as you linked arms with her and began to lead her to your apartment. "And when I come back, you've already had a job for three weeks and you've moved into your own apartment? I am so proud of you Y/N."

You blushed at her words, but still allowed yourself to soak them in. "Thank you, Mor. I'm glad that you're okay with it."

Mor frowned. "Why wouldn't I be okay with it? I think it's amazing that you decided to move out, everyone deserves their independence."

You nodded, but your thoughts were on your sisters... What they surely thought of you, leaving without a word... "It's just... I don't know. My sisters... Weren't very supportive of me even having a job, let alone having my own apartment."

"Oh, hon, don't worry about them. I think they're just jealous of you having your own life outside of our little circle. Now, Nesta and Elain... They could certainly use a talking to," Mor hissed. "And Feyre isn't much better, letting them get away with their behavior."

You shook your head. What would they have to be jealous of? Being lonely? Having at most three friends, if you were being generous with the term? "It's fine, Mor, really. I've stopped expecting them to act any certain way, it's just... Easier."

Mor sighed next to you. "I suppose so... Anyways, tell me what's been going on!" Mor said cheerily, sensing your hesitancy to speak about your sisters.

"Well... Not much, beyond the moving out and getting a job. Although..." You thought about Azriel, how you now considered him a friend- and he thought the same of you. "Azriel has been very nice, he brought me some tea blends when he found out I moved. And helped me find a bed."

"Oh, I'm sure he did," Mor said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You smacked her arm lightly and shot her as much of a glare as you could muster.

"Not like that Mor!" You exclaimed, blood rushing to your cheeks at her insinuation. "He helped me go to a store and his shadows brought it back to my apartment."

"Oooh," Mor laughed. "Okay, I misunderstood, Y/N. I'm glad that he's been a good friend to you while I've been away."

"I am too, Mor," you said softly, a hint of a smile on your lips.

You unlocked the front door of your building, letting Mor pass through the doorway before you, then led her up the stairs.

"Three flights? I must be spoiled, only having a flight to go up one at my place," Mor said by the time you reached the top, your fingers fumbling for the correct key.

"It's not all that bad, Mor," you giggled as you swung the door open, letting her go in first, and closing the door softly behind you.

"Oh, Y/N! This apartment is so you!" Mor said brightly as she looked around. "The bed looks amazing." She flopped down on it, sighing happily after she did. "You chose good, sweets."

"Thank you," you giggled, plopping down next to her. "I'm so glad the owner was willing to paint, it saved me from trying to do it myself."

"And it looks lovely too, and as I said, very you. So," Mor started, a hand flung onto your thigh. "I thought, if you have a day off while I'm in town, we could do a sleepover again! Either here or at my apartment, whichever you'd prefer."

"That sounds lovely Mor. If you're still here tomorrow, and you don't have plans tonight, I have tomorrow off," you offered.

"That's perfect! I'll go get a change of clothes and pick up some food on my way back, if that works for you, Y/N."

You nodded. "That sounds like a plan to me, Mor. I'll see you in a little bit?" The two of you stood from your bed, Mor's hair the tiniest bit rumpled from being squished against your mattress.

"Yep! Any preferences on food?"

You shook your head. "Anything is fine by me Mor, get whatever you've been missing while in the Hewn City."

Mor's face scrunched up at the mention of the Hewn City. "Don't remind me," she groaned. "I think I'll get some kind of pasta. Pasta sounds perfect for a sleepover."

"That sounds good to me. Walk safely, Mor, it's been slick out at this time recently," you warned, smiling when Mor winked at you playfully.

"I'm always careful, sweets. See you in a bit!"

You shut the door behind her, a smile on your face. You hadn't realized just how much you had missed your friend until you saw her again.

Not wanting to waste your alone time, though, you pulled yourself into the bath, determined to finish before Mor returned. While you didn't feel disgusting, you felt a bit dirty from work still, and if you're spending the night with Mor you'd like to smell decent.

Still, you let yourself relax in the steaming water for a few minutes, bubbles coating the water's surface. Your lungs expanded and collapsed rhythmically, lulling your heart into a state of peace.

Maybe... Maybe you could belong in Velaris.

Maybe it was your sisters that you didn't belong with, any more.

But with Mor? With Azriel? At work? You felt like you had begun to carve out a tiny little place for you to exist peacefully, if not happily.

A deep sigh left you.

You wished... You wished you could belong with your sisters once more. Your heart longed to see them, to share your joy with them. But... They never seemed to share in it with you.

So, you would settle for carving out a space for yourself.

No, it's not settling, you told yourself as you began to scrub at your body with a cloth. It's choosing to live, not to merely exist.

You may not know what you want out of life, but you're willing to find out now.

You willing to try your hand at living once more.

🤍🤍💝🤍🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao

The Afterthought Taglist: @darkbloodsly @angelbunny222 @uniquedreamsblog @romantasyreader28 @that-one-bibliophole @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @deathtopistachios @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @babypeapoddd @kingshitonly @bravo-delta-eccho @bluebries81 @liahaslosthermind @deepestmentalitypersona @historygeekqueen @hermajestysworld @marina468 @esposamultifandom @astrokitty18 @larissa01-blog2 @acourtofbatboydreams @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @thelov3lybookworm @weekendlusting @dxjaaaa @thejediprincess56 @casiiopea2 @butterfix @sirenpearldust @marrass @satiresunflower @mae-foster @boo-shalala @optimisticbabydreamer @sttvrdustt @bunnybella186

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 97

Smile by Kayleen756894

Same as when we covered Burning Lungs, check the tags for this fic before ya jump in cause it gets pretty dark even within the first chapter. 

It’s a big day for the project people, I mentioned back on Day 60 that there were three fics that I consider directly responsible for this entire thing since they’re what set me on this path of a comically large amount of Junkan. And today we FINALLY talk about another one of them, even if I admittedly did cover a little bit of my history with this specific story during Day 60 for the sake of context. Apologies if I repeat myself a few times!

The previous few days I’ve been covering fic first, then the art. For this day however I’m going to cover the art first, along with any other bonus facts I have, and THEN i will do my best to adequately sing the praises of today’s stories.

Also let it be known that the music I put on while I read through the whole fic in preparation for today’s ramble was “LEASE” by Takeshi Abo. 10 hour loop too. Someone will find that funny probably, maybe even you!

(This is another long one, get ready)

Before I address the art I might as well have a little fun and discuss the order I decided to do these in, interesting I know.

Days 91-92 were easy, the first Soft Fic and the first fic to use the Non-Abusive Tag, they had to be the opener. Day 93 was one of the longer stories so I did that one first, since I did read each story before working on the art. From there it’s a pretty simple pattern of “Short Fic followed by a longer, more serious fic that I gotta psyche myself up for.” And it was done pretty much with todays subject in mind, but we’ll get for it. 

You’ll notice I have two different art pieces today, the reason is simple. I wasn’t very happy with the initial art, so I made a much more direct adaptation of a scene from the first chapter to go with it. And in a rare instance I can also bring you some early versions of the initial piece!

From the initial sketch you can see that this was supposed to be a proper cover for the story, as I wanted to feature scenes from each of the three chapters, that middle shot is one I’ve had in my mind since the first time I read the story. Those who have read the fic can probably recognize each one. The second image was almost the final version of this. I scrapped the lower portion of the art for a few reasons. The flames of burnout were miniscule but still present, though rest assured these would not come into play until after the point of when the fanfic art is all finished. Secondly, when I was supposed to work on this art, a power outage hit my house. This also meant that in terms of making the art I only had the first chapter read, anything else was purely memory (Like I said though, I read the full fic for todays ramble, rest assured). And thirdly, I kinda, just thought it didn’t look good? And as you can see this version had details cut despite how far into the process it was, fully removing the expressions outside of the two smiling. Cause y’know . . . “Smile.” Plus in retrospect the eyes, while striking compared to the rest of the art, look kinda fucking silly?

Why didn’t I like the end result? Honestly I think I was just in a bad headspace at the time due to the combination of the power out stressing me out, and just generally speaking my mental health has never been the most structurally sound aspect of myself. I’m good at drawing, not so much being well put together. Looking at it now, while I think the piece is a bit esoteric and might not be what I’d make today for a piece based on this fic, I like it a lot.

And at the end of the dead even if I didn’t like how the first one turned out, I’m pretty happy with it! Even with perfectionist brain bitching at me that I could have done Junko’s hair a bit better at the given angle. Just a straight adaptation of Junko and Mikan’s first kiss from Chapter 1. The most interesting note on it’s creation is that I had to make last minute changes to Mikan because I realized her hair needed to be a lot shorter and more well put together, as earlier in the fic Junko does fix it up a bit. 

Oh! I did also send the second pic to the author herself as a way of introducing myself and showing appreciation, so that’s a bit of added sentimental value! Kayleen’s an absolute treat by the way, super fun to talk too, great insight on writing, you should absolutely check out the rest of her writing! I’m not in most of the fandoms featured say for RWBY, but based on the quality of her writing on the Danganronpa side of things, I feel confident recommending anything she’s published in the past, present, and future!~ 

Speaking of writing, I should probably like. Talk about the god damn fic, huh? Well. Nope! I still have more fun facts!

I almost didn’t adapt Smile! I knew for certain that Kayleen needed a spot on this list, it would have felt wrong otherwise. And there were two fics in mind for adaptation.

“Smile”, obviously, and “Soft (But only for Her).” My earliest plan was going to be to just do both. However I only had 8 days to work with, and spoilers, Day 98 is in fact a returning author, so I didn’t want to take up half of my slots on two authors, I wanted to show my appreciation to as many as I could during this string of the event before going back to my own stuff for the last two days. So I thought it over, and decided that Smile was too important to pass up on this project, leaving Soft (But only for Her) for later.

I did have a full plan for it though, unlike Smile where I didn’t really have an idea going into it. I’ll tell you what the plan was gonna be.

Most people would be curious which of the around 30 wonderful one shots I could have chosen to adapt, I’ve already done one of them with the very first chapter in that collection! However you my audience, are not most people. There’s a good chance you’re reading this paragraph, rubbing your temples and resigning yourself to the fact that I was very much going to draw art based on every single piece of that collection. Because yes I was just gonna adapt all of it. Was gonna make a big collage out of all of em, even the chapters that have so much angst I struggle to even read them cause they make me too sad! I’d still do it too. I probably will. When you least expect it. 

For now though I really wanna draw something based on Chapter 25 when I have the time. I wanna draw art based on a lot of other fanfics actually, I’ve just been pretty swamped. But rest assured, to those of you who’ve written a Junkan fic and weren’t featured. Rest assured, I have my eyes open, I’m always looking that tag over, and there were definitely some stories omitted that I really wish I could have included IN the project. Give it time. My self control grows weaker by the day!~

Okay, okay. NOW, I should be able to talk about the fic. Probably.

So I’ve told this story before, but now you’ll get to hear it in a bit more detail compared to before. Will hopefully not be too repetitive for ya’ll!

So once again we jump back a few years during say, 2020, MAYBE early 2021. I find a fic that includes Junkan when I was simply trying to find Ikuzono. It ends up being pretty cute and makes me curious, “I thought this ship was super toxic? How is this one so cute?”

So, I look around the tag, still not sure how to Navigate AO3 even after gaining a lot of experience through the power of many late night tokomaru binges. And as you already knew or could guess, I came across Smile.

At the time it only had 2 chapters, which normally might have turned me away at the time, I wasn’t a desperate animal like I am today. However I guess I either ignored that, or just didn’t care, too curious to see what else this ship could entail.

So here I am, sitting in my bed, writing this ramble, trying to figure out once again how to talk about one of the fics that set me off on this obsession with Junko and Mikan as a softer, loving couple. That and also a fic that is much more serious in terms of its tone and content, as this fic, like Drowning, is one of the only fics in this stretch of the project that is definitely set in the main canon of DR. Serving as essentially a new origin for Junkan as a couple prior to the tragedy. 

I’m sure I’ve said before that when it comes to how I view Junko and Mikan’s relationship, that Val’s work is basically the primary blueprint for how I interpret and portray them. However that’s for the Non-Despair AUs, while there is some bleed over in how I handle Canon portrayals (And I admittedly haven’t done a lot with a serious interpretation of that), in my brain this story, Smile, is the blueprint of how I view a canon timeline version of Junkan. That might just be bias from it being the first fic I read that like, but it does kind of help that this is just one of the most excellently written interpretation of these characters I’ve ever bared witness to.

The first chapter was originally supposed to be a Standalone according to the Author’s Notes, and it really works as one! It’s a very complete story that’s super well put together, and ends very satisfyingly if you just stop after finishing it. I’m extremely glad it continued, as I don’t think my obsession would have come to fruition when it did if not for those following two chapters. But maybe I’m wrong cause this fic certainly knows how to hook you on a ship!

I was god damn mesmerized reading the first chapter. This has to be one of the saddest takes on Mikan’s character that I’ve ever read. Burning Lungs comes close however we never get to actually see things from her perspective, that’s all from Junko’s outsider point of view. Here we get to see it all from Mikan’s perspective, all of it, the sad stuff, the extra sad stuff, the stuff I don’t really know how to talk about because I’m inadequate with this kind of subject matter. And some gay panic, because it’s not Junkan without at least a little gay panic somewhere in the mix.

Junko is really god damn good in this first chapter, she’s god damn good in the whole fic but we’re talking about chapter one right now so i’m specifying. She has such a mysterious aura around her the entire time, and not just the obvious “Oh she’s planning the tragedy behind the scenes,” but also the mystery of how she feels about Mikan! It’s something left up to viewer interpretation in the first chapter, and to a much lesser extent the following chapters (I say lesser extent cause it does eventually lean into her having real feelings for Mikan, just being super confused by them. At least that’s how I look at it). Everytime I read one of these stories that serve as an origin point for these two’s relationship, it’s always really interesting to see how things initiate. It’s pretty much always Junko initiating of course, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a fic where it was Mikan who made the first move? If there is I’m having a severe lapse in memory it seems, or I’ve misinterpreted! The point of course being I really like the way Junko handles things here, saving Mikan from her darkest point, all that good shit! 

And the kiss? I drew it for a reason, it’s amazing. From the buildup to the way Mikan has a rare instance of boldness and grabs Junko’s tie? The grabbing the tie part makes my brain explode, the fact that Junko herself was surprised by it is even better. I love it whenever Mikan can actually get Junko surprised or flustered. It’s great!

I feel like I should be more detailed, more meticulous, but it really is a struggle trying to be in depth when discussing something this good, I wouldn’t consider it my strong suit? 

So let’s try moving onto chapter 2! I do at least have a story with this one but that can be for when I finish desperately trying to talk about the chapter itself. 

It’s lovely! Big shock! We get to see the two of them just acting like a normal couple for a bit, and even better we get to see the two partaking in some sleepy cuddles. That scene also does one of those Junkan things I fuckin love where Junko just, fucking reads Mikan’s mind. I know that’s not what she’s doing but also it’s funnier to put it that way. I just like Junko putting her analytical ability to use by reading Mikan and understanding her finer details. It can be used in all kinds of ways, cute ways, funny ways, saucy ways, but this might just be my favorite way? Her being able to tell when Mikan’s about to spiral and snapping her out of it quick. 

Their date is lovely by the way, love the drive there, the conversation is just a treat. And I really like the reference to the grenade scene from the DR3 anime, I might not have fond memories with that series like, at all, but that one clip of Junko tossing the grenade and Mukuro (We’ll get to her) catching it is just a really fun bit of energy. It’s also just fucking funny because it reads like they practiced that shit for like 2 fuckin weeks- Sorry, distracted. Anyway I think the scene is both a fun reference, and another good way to kinda remind of us the darker parts of this storyline underlying the softer surface. Junko is in fact trying to burn the world down, she just also happens to have a tooth rotting-ly sweet relationship with a very sad nurse. The moments where Mikan unintentionally peers into that world, whether hearing an explosion or seeing the red roots of Junko’s true haircolor, I love it all!

Great moment with Mikan helping that kid from bullies, always love to see Mikan flourishing in these stories (foreshadowing)! I think it is very funny that the small child just immediately clocked that Mikan and Junko were dating, the kid either has a crazy gaydar or Mikan and Junko are the least subtle people alive . . . okay yeah it’s that second one.

The following scene is great too, fuck those parents, and fuck yeah to Junko coming in for the clutch as she is one to do in this fic. The kiss to follow? Fantastic. Junko’s joke about exhibitionism? Also fantastic. The part where Mikan says she’s gonna go see her parents- Fuck.

Okay so, I’mma make the assumption that if you’re this deep into my ramble you’ve probably read the fic already. And if you skipped out on the fic due to the subject matter noted in the tags, you can probably already tell by my apprehension that everything in this fic from here on out is like, the opposite end of the spectrum from all the sweet (albeit ominous) stuff we’ve had up till now. And you’d be correct, and I quite frankly don’t know how to talk about it, like, at all. There are parts of this that I do wanna talk about from this and the following chapter, but also I feel neither confident nor comfortable explicitly discussing what happens to Mikan here. Even if you can probably already tell.

Still, I must show my respects to the literature and it’s author, so I will do my best. Apologies if I fumble here.

I’m still not gonna talk in depth about Mukuro here, but I do like the conversation leading up to this scene, before Mikan shows up. It’s something that was going to inevitably come up, because yeah, Junko can make Mikan fall deeply in love with her, but that won’t exactly prepare her for being complicit in the apocalypse. There’s a part of me that’s curious what her gameplan was before the end of this chapter happens, how was she going to try and turn Mikan over to her side 100% and make sure she’s ready. The world will never know.

Junko’s great at the end of this chapter, not just the comfort she provides. But the way she, in the words of the story, Snaps. That line? That stuck with me when I first read this. I think it’s the moment that confirmed for me personally, that yeah, Junko does love Mikan even if she doesn’t understand it. And it wasn’t just that moment that stuck with me, it was the whole fic by this point.

That’s right, it's story time. So when I found this fic, there were only two chapters. And I wanna remind ya’ll that before this fic I read a fic so silly, soft, and fluffy that it made me question what this ship could be. Jumping from that, to this was definitely . . . Whiplash?

What happened after that is fun, because I don’t fucking remember. I think unironically the amount of stress that ending put me under just from the shock of it, made me fuckin black out?? Which by the way, huge kudos, it takes some really fucking good writing to get me so invested that I get real life stressed as shit because of bad things happening to the characters. But anyway, I didn’t actually just, black out from stress. But everything after that is so blurred that it’s borderline incomprehensible, I try to remember past that point, and it’s like looking at memories put through a paper shredder before being put back together by a toddler doing a handstand. 

All I can say for sure is that starting from the morning after, I was obsessed. I woke up, and kept fucking checking to see if Chapter 3 was out yet. I hadn’t checked the time of the latest update, I still barely fucking understood how AO3 actually worked. I’m pretty sure it was through this fic that I learned that when a fic updates it moves to the top of the page for a given tag. This was also way before I had an AO3 account, so I couldn’t just subscribe or bookmark it. I’m sure I read other fics at this point, probably including Kayleen’s other works? But the timespan between Chapter 2 and 3 feel like white noise, whatever I read didn’t exist in my memories by the time that story ended. And god damn did it end.

When Chapter 3 popped up, it was late I’m pretty sure. I don’t know what I was doing at the time, maybe looking at manga online, talking with friends over discord dms, failing homework over online school, maybe even doing some of my own writing since i’m pretty sure this was back before my passion for it died out. Whatever it was, I dropped it fucking IMMEDIATELY. I needed to see this ending, I needed that catharsis.

So I layed in my bed, in a house I was still new to, and read the god damn chapter.

It was perfect. One of the first times to my knowledge where I’ve had the satisfaction of reading an unfinished fic and getting to actually see it end.

Where do I start, what do I even say? Anything I say just kind of boils down to “Junko and Mikan are perfectly written and I love their interactions and also god dammit I feel so bad for Mikan.”

The scene on the rooftop is great, I remember in one of Kayleen’s other fics Mikan shows concern for Junko’s eating habits, so getting to this scene and seeing the reverse was nice. And like, god, Junko’s so good in this. I get she’s trying to start the end of the world but she’s doing such a fucking good job here. Sure, she asks Mikan to kill her parents right after this, which might not be the most normal way of helping your girlfriend through a severely traumatic experience, but that’s just Junko y’know? 

Should I talk about Mukuro now? I should probably talk about Mukuro now, I really wanted to wait like one more scene but fuck it we’re talking about Mukuro now. 

Have I ever really talked about Mukuro in the context of Junkan? I know I’ve definitely made note of her, and I’ve obviously included her in these pieces with varying degrees of prominence. But I don’t think I’ve ever noted how I think she’s is one of the most interesting and amazing assets of Junkan as a ship. Calling Mukuro an asset feels like a disservice, but I lack the words to adequately describe what I mean here. 

The Despair Sisters are already one of the most interesting dynamics in Danganronpa, and a pretty versatile one at that based on the various interpretations I’ve seen of these two. And I think adding Junkan into the mix is just lovely, because it adds an outsider perspective, but not just that, it’s the outsider perspective of someone who’s closer than anyone else due to Mikan dating Junko. Bonus for the contrast of Junko pampering Mikan and shit talking Mukuro, even if I believe that shit talking is just a very layered way for Junko to express that she does care about Mukuro as a sister. 

And I think Mukuro and Mikan is a really fun dynamic too! I love the idea of Mikan finding love through Junko, and then in turn getting a second person in her life that cares about her. Mukuro being Mikan’s bodyguard bare minimum is great, protect that sweet little nurse you desaturated girliepop you. But I think the way their dynamic can evolve overtime as Mikan continues to date Junko is great. 

Mukuro getting to see firsthand how Mikan is changing Junko for the better, even if it’s in a canon timeline where Junko’s still like, very locked in on the apocalypse. She’s getting to be happier in a more genuine way, which I’m sure Mukuro would be grateful for, and that just makes her caring about Mikan’s wellbeing all the better.

Plus like, something I don’t think about often, at least not until very recently, but if Junko and Mikan are dating, and inevitably get married. That does just kinda mean Mikan and Mukuro are sisters in law. And, I fuckin love that? Mikan not only gets an amazing relationship with Junko, but she also just gets to have a sibling, something that to my knowledge she doesn’t have in canon. It’s that found family stuff that I love, even if the found family in this case is a bit more literal rather than just being a metaphor. And Mukuro gets a new sister, one who cares about her just as much as Junko, but is just significantly better at expressing that by comparison. I think Mukuro would really appreciate having a sister who like, hugs her without slinging an insult, or just getting any kind of open, visceral appreciation without having to read between the lines. 

I love to see Mikan with plenty of friends, she has a bunch of dynamics that I appreciate. But I also have a lot of appreciation for the idea of Junko and Mukuro being the only people she cares about, the only people she needs to survive. 

Where was I- Oh right.

Kayleen’s depiction of Mukuro and her dynamic with our other two primary characters is amazing. Spectacular even. Fucking perfect perhaps. It does everything I love about the Despair Sister’s dynamic without bordering into uncomfortable territory like some facets of the main canon does. But what I especially love is her dynamic with Mikan in the few moments we get to see them interact. A protector, a friend, and eventually a sister to her, it’s amazing. The scene when Mikan wakes up to Mukuro watching over her while Junko is away is phenomenal, and I love Mikan’s concern for her given the way Junko treats her, which does look pretty bad without the deeper context. The moment at the very end of Chapter 2 where Mukuro just heads off to (I assume) kidnap Mikan’s parents after just sharing a look with Junko, it’s another one of my favorite bits in that scene.

And of course, the scene that lead me to start yapping about Mukuro like that out of fucking nowhere, her talking to Mikan about Junko’s test. It’s great how she tries to help Mikan come to a decision without forcing anything. But also finally giving some more confirmation that Junko definitely feels something for Mikan, expressing how many changes in her demeanor she’s noted. And the reveal that Junko routinely struggles with Nightmares whenever Mikan isn’t around?? Fuck I love that. God dammit. 

I feel like I should talk more about this scene, but I feel like I kinda did? To an extent? A lot of what I just said about Mukuro’s place in this dynamic kinda sums up a lot of the great things about this scene. So I suppose we move on.

The buildup to the big scene of this chapter is wonderful of course, not much to say there. And I admittedly just really want to talk about the scene that follows.

Because god it’s everything I was hoping for when I finished that second chapter and had no idea whether I’d see this scene or not. 

The reveal is great, and as grotesque as I anticipated. I do cringe a little reading some of the details, not the modern dickhead definition of cringe either I mean the “Oh god fuck that’s brutal” kind of cringe. And it is so perfectly contrasted by Junko being Junko, love the idea that Junko and Mukuro just nabbed up these people and didn’t explain a goddamn thing until this very moment where they finally figure out that this crazy bitch is dating their daughter. Mukuro punching Mikan’s dad in the face was fucking great too. 

And the buildup to what comes next, is so god damn good. It feels weird out of context celebrating it, but the scene where Mikan breaks? Fucking spectacular. The distortion on the word Red hits like a fucking truck, and also speaks to my childhood of being a creepypasta kid because i’m like, half sure that’s the zalgo text filter, correct me if I’m wrong of course. Point is it was an out of nowhere detail that perfectly emphasized the tensity of what’s about to happen.

And I can go on another tangent now, because this is something I have had no opportunity to talk about during the entire duration of this project. At least not to my memory or knowledge.

I love Angry Mikan. I love the Mikan that snaps and is fully over the edge, not willing to deal with anyones bullshit. I of course have criticisms of Chapter 3 in DR2, but Mikan’s reveal of her true self, or I suppose the herself prior to the NWP, I love that moment. 

I’ve never depicted Angry Mikan before, but someday I really want to. So until then I take great enjoyment in seeing such a rare side of Mikan, which itself is even rarer in these fics. I think counting this one there are only 3, maybe 4 other fics off the top of my head where we get to see Mikan fully lose her temper. Now of course, I could be suffering another lapse in memory, or I just haven’t read the other stories that feature it. I only think I’ve read like, 90% of the Soft Junkan out there, I can’t confidently claim I actually have for certain, so maybe I missed it! 

Point is, seeing Angry Mikan is a treat. And here especially is fucking amazing, the verbal teardown, the havoc of it all. It’s great. And Junko just adds to it with her sheer excitement (which is putting it lightly given some of the dialogue), getting to see Mikan finally become, from her perspective, the best version of herself. Someone who can survive alongside her. 

When things start moving, it’s amazing. A small moment I really love, and the moment I was originally gonna wait for to talk about Mukuro with. Her offering up an assortment of firearms from “Her personal collection.” is just, weirdly wholesome? The things I get to say talking about this ship I swear. I dunno, it feels like such a small, personal moment and offer that only Mukuro could provide, and feels like the perfect cap to Mikan and Mukuro’s dynamic throughout this fic.

Also, fucking enamored with the the presence of a Rocket Launcher. Funniest alternate timeline sitting right there, imagining Mikan with a fucking rpg over her shoulder is hilarious.

Junko offering the reverse side of the weaponry coin is lovely too of course, but it’s the wonderful stuff I’d already expect with Junko, so much less of a pleasant surprise like Mukuro. I do appreciate her keeping a knife used on Mikan’s father as a trophy though, imagine that over the fireplace.

Anyway I don’t know how I could really explain to you why the torture scene is nice. It’s catharsis, it’s just catharsis. I don’t even remember how fucking long I waited to read this moment but it was so worth it, Junko and Mukuro joining in to help setup equipment was also really cute . . . i feel like i shouldn’t be calling segments from a torture scene cute. Hm. Well anyway, I can say that while I appreciate its existence, I’m also glad Kayleen chose not to drag it out for too long. Ironic coming from the most excessive bitch around here, but it probably would have been a bit much if it took up the grander majority of this chapter.

Which means we say goodbye to Mukuro and return to our regularly scheduled Junko and Mikan moments. 

And yeah what do you want me to fucking say, it’s amazing? Because it’s amazing as fuck, yeah. I’m running out of ways to just say how fuckin much i love this, but i’ll persevere best I can. 

I mentioned way earlier that I love it when Mikan catches Junko by surprise, and we get more of that here. Though in this instance I think it’s better to describe that this is the first time Mikan just gets the upper hand on Junko, who’s struggling to fight back in the conversation because she’s already struggling to figure out her feelings. And it’s really lovely to see Mikan fighting past Junko’s own insecurities, especially when she regards herself as a bad girlfriend. It’s great, and it’s more of that role reversal I love. 

The book analogy near the end of this conversation is so good, it’s sappy as fuck but that’s why it’s good. And Junko leaning into it despite how lame it is makes it all the better, and I only noticed on this recent reread that there’s even a cheeky V3 reference as well, clever!~ 

The kiss is of course great, and I think i’ve just fully fucking run out of ways to talk about how much I love Junko and Mikan kisses in these stories. Thank god there isn’t one in tomorrows fic- getting ahead of myself. 

Rip to Scissorhands, thanks for the gay but you will not be missed.

God damn amazing fic, so well written. It’s one where I have to be in a very specific mindset in order to read it, as that middle chapter really does stress me out enough to be a bit of a roadblock. But admittedly this most recent reread wasn’t the worst compared to the previous few times. That said the fic definitely had it’s effect on me like usual, my body felt all kinds of wild ways, my heartbeat was a lot more intense, breathing a bit wacked out, my nerves up. The whole shebang, so good fucking writing. Equally bittersweet considering that, at least I assume, the normal events of DR are going to follow this story, even if not immediately. So Mukuro’s gonna die, Junko’s gonna die, and then Mikan’s going to have her brain undespaired and probably lose all her feelings towards Junko (Though I will admit, the idea of Mikan after the actual events of canon still having feelings for Junko while not being a remnant is pretty interesting). 

However, I can live with that. It’s still an amazing story even with main canon in consideration, and I think I’ve run out of things to say here. 

Tomorrow is the last fic based art in the event, Days 99 and 100 are all on me. And by process of elimination you probably have an idea of what Day 98 is, you may even know the exact fic. 

I said there were three fics that were vital to me reaching this point in my life, being this obsessed with Junkan as a ship.

The Third Fic, Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed, is the fic that sent me spiraling into brainrot to the point of snapping and drawing art of it behind closed doors, eventually snapping me into drawing more Junkan than I imagine most if not anybody ever has.

The Second Fic, Smile, is what got me obsessed with the ship in the first place, of course only enough to enjoy reading it in secret, which would lead me to EYED.

All that’s left is The First Fic, which you’ll see tomorrow. The fic that made me bother to even give this ship a chance in the first place. Hilariously, I will probably not yap about it nearly as much as the previous two, even if I love it. 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[moralesispunk]

Chapter Two - Astra

Din Djarin x Witch! Reader

Summary: Three years later, Din returns to visit you and brings a new friend

Warnings: Nowwww we're getting into the story, a little angst, no other warnings for this chapter apply

Word Count: 2.3k

Chapter One | Series Masterlist | Chapter Three

***

Three Years Later

"Who is this?"

"I just call him Kid."

It was not unusual for your farm to be a resting stop for weary travellers.

Camping spots for nomads set up on the other side of your farm, stories or trinkets swapped for medicine or food. Every other month you would see one, and only every other time would they actually venture into your farm seeking out the witch they were informed - or warned - about.

Years of this had made you welcoming but carefully cautious of travellers and yet, until the Mandalorian, you had never let one inside your home.

Until the Mandalorian, they had never returned.

The second time he had appeared, he had stayed for only three days. He had helped you tend to the crops that still had another month before the harvest, had told you stories not expecting anything in return, had listened to your own tales with rapt attention.

The third time he returned was for less than a day, only to share news that he had heard of somewhere that sounded a lot like your home and so he had more questions to ask. Were the days long or short? Short. Were there neighbouring villages? None that you ever encountered. Do you miss your home? On particularly lonesome days, yes.

The fourth time he had stayed longer than before, two weeks where the walls thrown up between you and him had begun to crack and splinter until his discarded armour looked at home between your thick blankets and bottles of medicine, only his helmet and gloves remained.

For the next two years, the Mandalorian would stop by your farm as he travelled for his bounty hunting. Sometimes there were weeks between visits, other times months. Sometimes he stayed for less than a day, other times more than a week.

Now, nearly a year has passed since his last visit, and it’s hard not to imagine the worst - whether he grew bored of the visits, or whether he lost his life to a reckless hunt.

You hope not the former, not after his last visit when a moment had passed between you so much closer than ever before, but the thought of the latter had a sharp pain slicing through your chest. You would rather he was alive out there somewhere, even if that meant without you, than left for dead.

There was an entire shelf in your home dedicated to the Mandalorian’s gifts alone, ones brought on his returns. Rocks collected from planets he had visited, all neatly laid out and dusted each morning. You were there now, lifting them one by one to clean, when the familiar feeling tugged inside you, pulling you towards the door.

It was a feeling that kept you alive most days, a warning that someone was near your home, but it was different with him. Stronger, more excitement than fear.

Usually, you would wait until he was ready before you started towards him, but this time when you carefully peeked around the door and upon setting eyes on him, you could not ignore the pull towards him. Your legs were already carrying you across the farm before his helmet had even looked up in your direction.

The first time he had landed had been the end of the colder months, your farm bare and ready for the next season of planting. Now, it was flourishing, tall crops and plants brushing your fingers as you weaved through the empty path towards him, tickling the parts of your skin that were still rough from planting each seed.

He was different now. His armour was no longer rusting and now the same silver as his helmet, his shoulders carrying both straighter and prouder but also as though the world was resting on his shoulders, and in his arms-

Your steps faltered, bare feet soaking into the wet grass from the morning showers, and your lips parted.

In his arms was a small, tiny being. Green skin and wrapped up in a brown shawl, big eyes watching you as the Mandalorian’s steps slowed until he stopped a few paces away.

“Hello.” His voice was the same deep, honeyed sound that you heard in your dreams.

He shifted his weight onto his other leg, and even behind the visor you could tell he was watching you carefully. You stepped closer, eyes dancing between the visor and the child in his arms.

“Who’s this?”

His helmet dipped down, lifting the child higher on his chest so they were now eye height with you.

“I just call him Kid.”

You snort a laugh, holding a hand out towards the child. One small green hand rests on your finger and you shake it slowly up and down.

“Well, nice to meet you, Kid.”

He babbles in return and you laugh, your hand dropping only when his touch lets go. When you look back up, the Mandalorian’s gaze is already on yours.

“He’s not yours?”

“Not in that way, no.”

You nod. A family member, perhaps? A friend’s child? You have seen all kinds of families brought together in this universe - friends who become family and family who become friends.

“Are you hungry?” You ask.

His answering nod is slow, cautious, perhaps even questioning.

Maybe he expected the hundreds of questions that have kept you awake this past year. During the worst of it, four months ago, you had gone nearly a full moon cycle with barely more than an hour’s sleep every other night. On those sleepless nights you would wander the farm, checking on the crops, your mind galaxies away with the Mandalorian.

You had never yearned to travel the galaxies before. Tales told by travellers were simply that - stories to be enjoyed, consumed, but never once did you imagine yourself in them. You were the static being, one who stayed in the same place as the universe continued spinning on around you, and yet with the Mandalorian gone for so long, you began to wonder what you were missing out on.

Your mother had travelled the galaxies before you were born, that much you knew. She had been the only person in your village who had done so. The rest had been born there, had only ever left the village edge to hunt or barter goods.

She never spoke much of her travels, instead your father shared with you tales of your village and the generations before and those were the stories you had enjoyed; stories of people who had nurtured their home until it would flourish and keep future generations safe. Those were the stories you held closest to your heart.

But on the nights you wandered your farm you wondered what was out there that you had never seen. Would you have described other planets the way the talkative travellers had? Would you have liked what they liked and hated what they hated? The thoughts of travelling and the lost Mandalorian had kept you awake more often than not.

It’s not as bad now, the tiredness no longer keeps your face as hollow or your bones as tired, but you can already feel the urge to sleep well begin to seep into your muscles knowing that he’s alive.

The Mandalorian shifts his weight again, the child in his arms growing quiet as they continue to watch you carefully.

“I have some stew on.” You turn on your heels, leading them inside.

Your home is much the same as it was the first time the Mandalorian had visited. Warm, cosy, the new addition of a few trinkets from weary travellers who have visited in the past years and swapped them for a warm bowl of stew or extra layers for their journey.

The kid wanders around while the Mandalorian waits cautiously at the door, your back to him as you try to control the warring emotions on your face while preparing the table. When you finally turn, a forced calm on your face, even though his body is angled towards the kid you can feel his gaze on yours.

“Would you like to eat first or-”

“No. You and the kid can eat first.”

It’s awkward, something that hasn't been between you since the first day of his first visit here. He stands by the door while you eat, a few words shared of how he came by the kid - a bounty that he has now taken as his ward - and why he is here - the bounty still seemingly on his head.

Eventually you give up trying. Talking to the kid who only babbles in return.You tell him of last year’s harvest, of the weather, or a few visitors you have had. You don’t know if he understands - or if his babbles are telling you to stop annoying him - but you spend the rest of your meal this way.

When you look up again, the Mandalorian is gone. The door is open enough for you to see as he wanders the farm, looking carefully at your crops, occasionally bending down and testing the soil, and soon when the sun begins to set the small child beside you starts to lean his weight on you. Before long the sky is a dark navy and he has fallen asleep in his lap.

You tidy the mess of dinner, carefully moving the child to a makeshift bed. He curls into a half-knitted blanket, hands pulling it up higher until he is nearly entirely hidden from view, and you gently rock the chair.

He had never mentioned family before, not this kind of family anyway. He had spoken of his people, the few Mandalorian left that he knew of. They were good people, it seemed; bound by the same morals as he was.

Since the last time the Mandalorian had left your farm, after months of not seeing him, you left your farm and travelled further than you had in years to a close town. It was busier than the neighbouring villages you could walk to and from in a day, with busy shops and markets.

You had to stay a night there, and you had pushed the memory of the note you had left on your door left there should the Mandalorian have visited in the time you were gone - a pathetic hope that he would be there when you returned. When you got home, it was clear he had not been. You ripped the note off the door, throwing it in the fire you set for the evening, and then curled up in your chair with the book you had bartered for.

A History of the Lost Clan: Mandalorians

It was a small book, barely larger than your hand, and it now lay tattered on the shelves by the rocks. You read it cover to cover so many times you could recite it with your eyes closed.

You turn to pick it up, hand landing on the smooth surface of the shelf instead. Your hand drops, and when you look through the window the Mandalorian is now sitting on the steps of your porch.

You go outside and take a seat beside him, both of you looking out across your small farm, the new addition of goats and chickens in the corner and the flourishing crops everywhere else.

The Mandalorian clears his throat, his gloved fingers running down the spine of the book in his lap.

“How have you been?”

You don’t look at him when you answer.

“Good.” You tuck your knees towards your chest. “You?”

“Busy.”

You huff a laugh, resting your cheek on your knee and finally looking at him to find he is already carefully watching you.

“I wasn’t sure if something had happened to you.”

“I’m sorry,” he says and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to be. We’re not- so as to say’” You sigh, trying to find the words. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“No?”

Your eyes rake over him, and you shrug.

“The child,” you say, sitting up straighter, “he feels different.”

“I know.”

“I’ve only felt it twice before.” You twist your lips, trying to remember how long ago those travellers had ventured onto your farm but it was from a time when the years seemed to blur together - like many of the years before the Mandalorian.

“I’ve never known anyone like him.” He turns, facing back out into your farm, and you look at him carefully.

There is a tiredness hidden beneath his armour. When you first met him, you thought he was a statue beneath the layers of armour, now you can see for what it is - a barrier between him and the world.

Even though he spends most of his time quiet, his mind races beneath the helmet. You would give anything to know what goes on in there.

There is a thud of metal against your hip and you look down at the blaster placed by your side.

“Keep this. It seems the kid has trouble following wherever he goes. I don’t want him bringing it here when you have no protection.”

“I’ve gone long enough without needing a weapon.” You nudge it back towards him.

“Please.”

“I don’t know how to use it.”

“I’ll show you in the morning.” He pushes it closer to you again. “Please.”

You look between the metal and him before nodding once, tucking it in a pocket in your skirts.

“How long will you stay?”

It’s the first time you have asked. Never before have you given into the urge to want to know his return.

He sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and tucks the book closer to his chest.

“I need to do something. I’ll be gone for a week, maybe two. But then I’ll come back.”

“For what?”

His hand reaches out, gloved knuckles brushing down your cheek.

“For you.”

*****

And you know that saying, the calm before the storm…

[malinowaj]

2024 fandom review

thank you for the tag @nerdyfangirl76 and @almostlake 💜

warning: this got really long

fics written

in 2024, i posted 3 finished fics and one currently on-going WIP. in total that was 122,542 words and i keep looking at that number in complete disbelief.

i started the year by saying, multiple times, i'm not going to write anything because it's been nearly a decade since i wrote for fun. then i had an idea and was all "well, maybe if i wrote this one short thing, posted it and then dipped never to be seen again". insert my friend laughing at me at regular intervals because we all know that's not what happened.

always losing to win is very dear to me, for several reasons, and it'll never stop blowing my mind how many people have read it and been on that journey with me.

fics read

my AO3 history is about 300 fics, but i did not sort out my logins until months into the year, so the actual number is probably somewhere closer to 350.

i tried to pick a few favourite fics i read and limiting myself to just these is hard. i regret to say none of these have received the praise, comments and love from me that they deserve, because it took me months to get over my comment shyness. but i hope this makes up for it a bit. (new year's resolution: more comments for everyone.) in alphabetical order by title:

almost is never enough by @in-amor-veritas

there's a scene in this with kent's 747 that i have the strongest, plot-wise most insignificant headcanon about and i think about it every time i hear the song. which is often. and then i end up thinking about the whole story.

another dose by stargazers

it's such a beautiful version of wilmon, because it's so them. and it's hot.

chasing our sunlight by fitz_y

if there ever was a fic that lives rent free in my head, it's this. the way it deals with so many heavy topics has made me cry, but it's such an incredibly crafted story i come back to it often.

forever i'm yours by @goldenwilmon

the way the fall in love in this one? hands down one of my favourites ever. whenever i need some fluff and happiness in my life, this is the one i go for.

little light by @unfortunate17

possibly one of the first, if not the first, wilmon fic i read in 2024. it broke something in me, but also healed something in me.

reckless abandon by @zee-has-commitment-issues

i absolutely love the concept and the way all the characters are so well-rounded. one of the fics i could not stop reading and can't wait to read again.

so loaded, eye low by @enjoythesilentworld

the chemistry, the angst. the sweet, delicious angst. and hot as hell.

where be left off by @gulliblelemon

the best way for me to fight some physical pain? some emotional pain. and this one has it, in the best, most beautiful way. very few fics have i devoured like i did this one.

the wolf comes home by @phneltwrites

after months, i still keep thinking about a particular line in this one. the trauma aftermath, the way they deal with it. also my favourite established relationship wilmon.

looking forward to in 2025

i can't wait to read and see all the amazing fics and gifs and edits and everything this fandom comes up with. i already know there'll be so many wonderful things i'll enjoy.

as for my own writing, i'm trying to get a good chunk of hope and legacy written before the insanity that'll be my life from late january to the end of february. (no context chapter 4 spoiler: simon steals a flag.)

there is also in from the cold, the espionage AU i have about 10K written for - and that's barely the beginning. i don't know if it'll ever see the light of day, but i do love the concept and all the research i've done for it.

i have been thinking about space wilmon lately, and while i said i'm not going to go down that road myself, i did remember a few lines from record of a spaceborn few that may have sparked an idea. it might become something one day, or it might never be more than the few disjointed lines and ideas i have typed in my notes.

there's also a file with a list of songs that i might want to build stories around. in general i have a lot of ideas, but very few of them might become anything. i'd like to put it down as "english is not my first language so writing is slow" thing, and while it is that too, it's mostly me being a perfectionist and not able to let go. (which is why i should probably have a beta telling me 'this is fine, go post it'. if anyone feels up for doing that...)

the biggest, warmest thank you to everyone who's read anything i've written, left kudos or comments, sent messages, in any way engaged. it has made my year, and this fandom experience so special 💜

not tagging anyone, but if any of the authors i mentioned haven't done this yet and would like to, i'd love to read your reviews.

[rom-e-o]

So I went back a re-listened to this entire episode. And here's the official transcript in PDF form. There are typos, so I'm not sure if it was auto-generated, but it's here and it's nice for skimming! All the good stuff is there.

This came out Oct. 10 (I listened to it in traffic in the Central West End while setting up a pop-up shop downtown). The game came out Oct. 31.

This was the FIRST time we got to experience Emmrich's voice, attitude and personality (outside the previous two short stories we was featured in) before the game came out. The first time we really got a comprehensive look at what was to come, for around 40 minutes.

So, after a re-listen:

The episode does a great job showing how enthusiastic, kind, elegant, intelligent and helpful he is. He's super kind to Nadia, and a little dweeby in moments. And a stickler for proper introductions. Wonderful.

In the game, we see him serve as a physician to Harding, mostly. Here, he does have a more medical angle, I'd say. Asking Nadia about her sleep, checking a broken ankle, etc.

He also had a more mad scientist-esque vibe? That would be more in-line with the concept art we saw, where we see him holding vials and in lab settings.

We get to see much more of Manfred acting like an assistant here, in. He's getting supplies, prepping kits, performing ritual steps, and actively helping Emmrich with tasks. We didn't see much of that in VG, so hearing Manfred being such a hands-on help is a treat.

This moment where Emmrich calls a spirit back to its body is fun foreshadowing for ThatTM game decision, if its intentional.

I thought Rolet would return in VG, since he and Emm seem to know each other and have an understanding of each's personalities. He almost felt like something of a butler to him? All the chapters have characters like this, but I liked how fun they were!

Rolet "what the hell is happening" Lastname, you are relatable.

Emmrich talking to a possessed body like a dog that got caught stealing a table scrap is hilarious.

And then ... that part.

Well, THAT was a traumatizing thing to witness. And it's not mentioned in VG at all. My first thought was, "Well, they wouldn't use a moment from a supplemental podcast for canonical, in-game characterization." But then I thought, "Why not?" Well, this was all likely written way before the game came out, and at the time, we didn't know how important all this information would be.

The podcast really was a fun sneak peek at the characters more than an official prequel/set-up. To that tune, it's a fun ride!

So this moment, to me, is a nice way of cementing Emmrich as a genuinely kind-hearted, morally good necromancer. A pretty unique take for this type of fantasy trope.

It would have been truly evil if, in-game, the phrase "this is on YOU" reared its head again, especially after Rook fell in the Fade. Ouch.

Adds new meaning to why he calls Rook "flame of my heart" if romanced, yes?

[phosph-ate]

Tether

Dr. Phosphorus x GN!Reader

Rick is sent to collect someone from inside of seemingly haunted woods. He realizes he's bit off more than he can chew a little too late.

CW: violence, gun violence, swearing, canon divergence, no use of y/n

Word Count: 2k

A/N: they/them used for reader!! this veers away from the show. it is not set in it. it's just an idea i had and i want to run with it. it probably won't be too many parts/chapters. also, there is an oc in here, she is important to the story. just in case you have feelings about ocs! reader's abilities will be touched on more thoroughly next chapter! divider made by cafekitsune

The woods were considered haunted. They had not always been that way. In fact, they used to be beautiful and lively. But now, a heavy fog and dark shadows shroud them. Not a peep could be heard from inside once in them.

“This can’t be normal.”

“No, Phosphorus,” Rick sighed, “it fucking can’t be normal.”

Bride, Nina, and Weasel stood a little behind Phosphorus, who was directly behind Rick. After what seemed like an hour of trekking through the heavily wooded area, they stumbled upon a cabin.

“This is it.” Nina chimed in from behind them. “This is what the hunter described.”

“You all wait back here,” Rick begins to walk towards the cabin. “I’ll handle this for now.”

Phosphorus groaned but stayed put. The only one seemingly not antsy was Weasel. He stood there, patiently. Or as patiently as he could.

Rick walked onto the porch. He immediately noticed spots of blood scattered on it. The wood creaked loudly; it was very noticeable considering how silent the area had been. Before he could even knock the door was swung open. Someone who could not be older than sixteen stood in front of Rick. She was chewing, no smacking, some gum.

“Who the fuck are you?” The teenager looked Rick up and down, staring at him with distaste.

“I was about to ask you the same question.”

The girl peeked over Rick’s shoulder and noticed the group a little way from the porch. She rolled her eyes. “Well,” She stepped to the side. “I guess you can come in.”

“Huh?” Phosphorus was loud and confused. “You’re going to let some monsters into your home.”

“Not my home.” She shrugged. “Anyway, we’ve been expecting you.”

“We?” Bride asked. “Where is the owner?”

“Resting.” The girl seemed too calm. Rick hummed a response. The girl walked back to the couch and picked up a controller and continued playing some old game. “Any of you want to play with me?” She motioned to another controller. “We’ve got plenty of games! Diddy Kong Racing, Mario 64, and Donkey Kong!” She was excited to share. “I’m positive I’d kick all of your asses simultaneously at any of the games… But I’m not going to stop you from playing.”

Phosphorus looked down the hall. His head cocked to the side. “Where is the owner?” He sounded more assertive than Bride had earlier. “There is no way some kid is living out in these creepy woods by herself.”

“I said they’re resting.” The teenager snapped. “Now get your ass back in here. They don’t like people pokin’ around. I’d hate to see what would happen if they came out to you looking through their home.”

Phosphorus walked towards the steps and huffed. “We need to see them. Who are they? More importantly, who are you?” The doctor turned his head towards the girl.

“I’m Oli.” She gave her name quickly. “And I thought you knew who they were.” Oli mimicked Phosphorus’ huff. “Why else would you be here?”

“We’re here because people have been going missing in these woods. One man got away and was heavily traumatized.”

Oli went pale. “Not people.” She was short. She turned back to her game. She began to play again, and Phosphorus groaned.

“Look, kid!” He shouted. He started to walk towards Oli, and she froze. She went pale. A scream ripped from her throat, and she began to wail for something. For someone. A name Rick was not familiar with ripped through the air, straight from Oli’s lungs.

The house began to shift. The floor creaked and the lights flickered. The TV shut off and Oli fell off the couch and hit the floor, covering her face, still screaming.

“I’m not-” Phosphorus had no time to defend himself.

The wall behind the TV, closest to Oli, became covered in shadows. A black ooze dripped from the center of the wall. A loud crack, the crack of bones, came from the other side of the wall. Wind whipped outside and suddenly birds could be heard all around. The silence had been broken in the worst way possible.

Fingers creeped out from the wall, and then a hand was visible. It grabbed the wall, pulling whoever it belonged to out from the shadows. Bones continued to crack as whatever the fuck was coming from the shadows made its way into reality.

“What the fuck!?” Phosphorus screamed.

A distorted yell came from the person and once they dragged themselves from the shadows, they stood over Oli, protecting her. Their eyes were pitch black, no sclera, and their body cracked as they stood up straight.

“That must be the owner.” Nina said, eyes wide and full of shock.

You had been trying your best to replenish your energy. To recover from the earlier visit. But when you felt Oli’s fear and heard her screaming you could no longer rest. You pulled yourself together long enough to crawl out from your hiding spot.

When you stood over her fearful form and looked up to see the exact people she said would be paying you a visit you groaned.

“Oli,” Your voice was distorted. You peeked down at her before looking back around the room, assessing the situation. “You’re okay.” Your voice slowly returned to something more normal. “Aren’t these the people who you said were coming?”

“Yes.” She sat up and looked up at you with a smile. “They wanted to meet you!” She grinned, proud of herself.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed at her, “You just did all of that for me to come out? You couldn’t just say ‘Hey! The people from the fucking prophecy are here!’ That would be just as effective, Olympia.”

Oli stood up. “Do not call me Olympia.” She gave you a nasty look. “You are not my-” She paused. She took in a deep breath and looked at the TV. “Anyway,” She turned it back on, “I gotta restart my game now. Because you turned the TV off when you showed up.” Her voice was low. “Go take care of whatever the fuck they need you for.”

You narrowed your eyes at Oli and turned back to the group of people in your home. “Sorry about, uh, earlier,” You gave them a nervous smile. Your eyes had returned to their normal color, “unless of course you came to kill me. Then I’m not sorry and you will not be leaving this property-”

“We are not here to kill you. My name is Rick, and we are investigating the missing people-”

You interrupted him. “Missing? They’re where they belong. Those men were fucking evil.” You rolled your eyes. “I try to keep this place unreachable. And yet, some people just cannot help themselves.” You glanced towards Oli. “Look, I’ll let you all go. I’ll make a path for you. It’ll be safe. I’ll even let a little sun come in, but I’m not going anywhere. We aren’t going anywhere.”

Rick ran a hand through his hair. “That hunter that escaped, was he…-”

“Oh!” You waved a hand around, “He was just a hunter. Happened to see a little too much, but he seemed like a nice enough guy.” You walked towards your front door and opened it. “I hate that I didn’t get to know all of your names, but… goodbye!” You smiled widely at them and motioned for them to leave.

“No.” Rick stood his ground. “What the fuck are you two doing out here? You just have this kid out in the middle of nowhere, where are her parents?”

“Dead.” Oli looked back from the TV and at Rick. “My family is fucking dead.” She paused her game and stood up. “Did Waller not tell you that? Or did she not know?” Oli snapped. She walked past you and straight towards Rick.

“Who’s Waller?” You asked, while quickly placing yourself in the middle of her and Rick. “What are you not telling me, Oli?”

Rick looked down at Oli with the amount of confusion you seemed to be in. “We were not aware you were here. We were told to bring them,” he pointed to you, “in. That is the extent of our knowledge.”

Oli’s nails were digging into her palms. Something in her seemed to snap. “You are not doing that!” She snarled at Rick. You tried to calm her. “That is not- I didn’t see that! You’re supposed to help us!” She had tears in her eyes.

“Olympia!” You grabbed her face. “What are you talking about?”

Her eyes glazed over, and her knees buckled. You were quick to grab her and hold her up and keep her from hitting the floor.

“What is happening?”

You looked up to see the obviously irradiated skeleton speaking. “She- She’s-” You did not get to finish your sentence. Oli sucked in air harshly, and her eyes widened. She looked at you in fear. You felt every ounce of her fear. Your stomach flipped.

“Oli,” your voice was soft, “What did you see?”

“Me-” She sucked down a sob, tears filling her eyes. “Dead.”

You sat at the kitchen table with Oli. You had insisted your visitors leave, she insisted on them staying. Because of that, you had learned who each of them was. Bride, Dr. Phosphorus, Nina, and your personal favorite: Weasel.

You grabbed water for Oli and sat down beside her. “It could be nothing.” You tried to reassure her, keep her calm.

“My visions are never ‘nothing’.” Oli sipped on her water. She sighed and looked past you and at the group of people in your home. “I haven’t been telling you everything…” She shut her eyes tight and gripped the glass in her hand. “The people who are coming to these woods, they aren’t coming for me. They’re coming for you.” She looked at you with a scared look.

“Well,” Dr. Phosphorus clapped his hands together and began to walk towards you, “we’d better get you out of here then!”

“I can’t leave her!” You snapped at him.

At the same time, Oli whispered “I can’t leave them.” She sounded defeated.

“Why?” Nina cocked her head. “Do you not have anyone else?”

You were growing frustrated. “No!” You pulled Oli into your arms and stood over her as she sat at the table. “Her family is gone! She was wanted for her abilities. I took her in and she’s safe with me-”

“I’m their tether.” Oli sounded distant. You froze, arms falling slightly, but not leaving her sides. You were shocked she would give that information away so freely. “If I die-” She stopped talking and closed her eyes tight.

“What is she talking about?” Rick swallowed hard. Things got a lot harder if what she was saying was true.

“I’m their tether,” She repeated. “You know how when a baby duck imprints on, like, a human?” She looked back at the group of monsters standing in your home.

“What does that have to do with this?” Bride crossed her arms.

“We found each other in times of need. And somehow, their need was much greater than mine. I’m keeping them sort of… holding onto humanity.”

You were standing there silent. She was talking like you were not even there. So, you decided to speak up. “If she dies, I’ll feel it. And I’m afraid of what I will do.” You watched the group, face deadpan. “I’m not leaving here. We are both safe here.”

There was a heavy silence before Dr. Phosphorus spoke up. “That’s too fucking bad, we need you to come with us.”

You groaned. And then you felt it. Something was getting close to your cabin. Your hair stood on end, your head snapped towards the window behind you and walked towards it. Oli pouted, she knew what that meant by now. You tried to pinpoint where they were coming from. Your head began to pound.

“What are you do-”

The window shattered and a bullet flew through, hitting you straight in the forehead. You heard Oli scream. Her fear was palpable. She was at your side in a second. “There’s blood!” Oli wailed. “They can’t even bleed!” Her screams wrecked you. Everything went black.

[housederiva]

I added a prologue to Facets of Determination if anybody's interested in reading it! The beginning of it is under the cut and the rest of the chapter as well as the first four of the story are here!

The part below's based off a nightmare I had a few years ago that I've never been quite able to shake, so I hope it reads well! And thank you guys for over 3000 hits on it, I wasn't expecting so many people to be interested in my little slow burn xx

The touch pressing into her skin was kinder than the one she had felt most nights. It was filled with trepidation, soft like the first droplets of rain hitting skin. A tender movement that asked for silent permission before continuing. An act to swoon over and write about – not to disassociate through and then forget.

Try as she might to remain still, shivers still ran through her as fingers before carefully placing themselves along the length of her arm. Slowly it traced upwards. These were not the Master’s rough groping hands. Instead they were slender, the nails curved and moving with a heartbreaking gentleness. The softness of them slithered across muscle in just the right fashion to trigger goosebumps across her skin. An unknown hand that whispered a promise of care – admiration.

What a dangerous thought that was; to think that she would be worthy of such affection. But the nails against her flesh were nothing short of soothing, making her think that there was no threat at all. Never before had she been treated as if she were some fragile ornament that needed protecting. And yet, the thumb circled around the pulse inside her elbow, repeating the motion lazily as it blanketed her in a security that would be afforded to the finest crystal. “I will protect you.” It whispered, “Nothing will harm you as long as I have the power to do something about it.”

She hated it; or at the very least was unnerved. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t wanted.

A prick of pain washed up with a vein of her arm, the nail catching skin. Its rounded curve became a needle as the hand around her forearm morphed into another with a sickening crunch. It followed the same path, curving up her body, sharper - almost annoyed or perhaps disappointed at the Desire of being denied.

Two hands became three. Three became four. What once was a sweetened hum of touch shifted into an enraged shout. The press of fingertips turned into clawing, greedy shards of glass. They pulled at her, like she was a rag doll in a game of tug of war fought against rabid mabari.

More hands now, pressing up the meat of her calves as the unwelcomed touch crooned its way into her. The fingers drilled inwards, fish hooks that writhed through tendons and muscle before splintering bone. She fought to break the barrier of her skin. To tear the intruders out.

Tearing. Peeling. Bloody. Absent of the beauty that first touch had promised. She tried to look away, to somehow change the red to darkness.

Several nails tore into her scalp at the realization of this, pulling her hair with such force that chunks were ripped out while other claws slithered to her eyelids and pried them open. Forcing her to watch the massacre of hands leeching inwards until she couldn’t tell where she started, and they began-

[dustorangeheartssnow]

TAGGED BY @bluegarners and @daringyounggrayson THANK U!!!!!!

TAGGING @danishsweethearts @havendance @saturnaftertaste @biromantic-nerd @your-worst-knightmare

Number of stories posted to ao3: TWO

Word count of works posted last year: 26,177

Fandoms I wrote for: bat….man..

Pairings: all gen

Stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: 

Most kudos: the lower and coarser soul

Most bookmarks: New Again

Most comment threads: New Again

Work I’m most proud of (and why): NEW AGAIN! 1) I neverrrr finish multi-chapter works and 2) IT IS AN IDEA I TRULY LOVE and an idea that i have desperately wanted to see executed for a LONG TIME and i am glad to have done it and am pleased as punch with the concept and the angst

Work I’m least proud of (and why): the lower and coarser soul i now think could be punchier and have more economy of language. Reading it back it feels tryhard and a little saccharine 

share or describe a favorite review you received: i got a review on a different fic asking if i would be updating New Again because they really liked New Again—and that was like omg. It really touched my heart that like someone was following my stories and thinking about my first chapter of another fic like enough to ask. New Again was really my baby and I more or less felt like it was me and that work against the world and it wouldn’t be very popular because it’s sort of a cheesy concept and Thomas Wayne Jr also is not too well-loved so it was like THAT ONE??? YOU WANT MORE OF THAT ONE??? And it was because of that comment from theknwing that I actually wrote and posted the next two chapters!!!! I literally would not have done that otherwise. I was so shocked and like omgggg when they asked. So thank u theknwing!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A time when writing was really, really hard: Writing is never hard for me but Having Ideas is REALLY HARD i never have ideas 

A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: 

I always knew I wanted to end New Again on the bittersweet (or just bitter) “watch his face when I leave and see how it falls” with Dick choosing Thomas over Bruce because Dick feels attached to Thomas and too melted-down and undeserving for Bruce, but I didn’t intend initially for the timeskip to be so many years. Frequently think about going back and revising it, but haven’t yet. BUT I DO REALLY LIKE THIS SPECIFIC PASSAGE

A favourite excerpt of your writing: 

THE SCENE AFTER THOMAS MAKES DICK KILL SCARECROW AND THEYRE BACK IN THE CAVE:

Dick slowly folds to his knees next to the computer. Thomas gazes down at him. Dick looks up. Onscreen is a description of the night as it happened in Thomas’s characteristic clipped, short sentences. The glow from the screen colors Thomas’s cheekbone angel-white. Next to the keyboard is a tray Alfred must have left, with sugarcubes, what smells like very strong peppermint tea, and neatly cut cucumber sandwiches. Thomas brings down a hand and brushes the back of his knuckles against Dick’s cheek. 

“I told you,” Thomas says quietly. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Dick turns his cheek away from Thomas’s hand. Instead, slowly, he presses his forehead against Thomas’s outer thigh, still plated with the Owlman suit. Thomas exhales sharply.

Thomas’s hand moves to the crown of Dick’s skull, where it applies almost possessive pressure, fingernails scraping against Dick’s scalp, even though Dick’s hair must make Thomas’s fingers wet. 

“I adore you,” Thomas says. 

Dick shudders.

How did you grow as a writer last year: I REALLY CUT DOWN ON A LOT OF MY PURPLE PROSE

How do you hope to grow this year: I WANT TO WRITE THINGS THAT ARE EXCITING AND LIKE FORCE ME TO MAKE JUMPS AND LEAVE THINGS OUT FOR THE READER TO HOTWIRE TOGETHER instead of me over explaining or lingering too long everything and undercutting the shortest point   

Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): EMMACORTANA MY BELOVED. Omg what a thing to be mutuals with one of your fandoms biggest writers and have them enact stunning hyperperceptive analyses of your work. She catches every single detail i cannot tell you how often i reread her notes. My hero mon ange whom i adore beyond measure 

Anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: Im sure lots and lots but nothing i can think of off of the top of my head. However the “Have I told you I love you yet today?” thing that Alfred says in a bunch of my work is from my mom saying that

Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: If what you want to write doesnt seem like it will have an audience and no one will want to read it but you REALLY love your idea, WRITE IT and do so with such like satisfaction and like dignity that you’re writing something truly a product of YOU and YOUR intuitions and knowledge and desires and thoughts, not just some burned-CD version of what you think some abstract Audience arbiter of popularity wants. Don’t even worry about things being popular. I know people say dont worry about that and then it is sad when your thing is unpopular or less popular and its like okay well. But its serious and its very important to not let people pick you up and move you from what you want. Do you know those people whose politics for example are just what will get them applause and what slogans they memorized from the Ideological Software Updates or whatever they can glean from çanva posts on  social media? Have you ever looked around and realized all of the people around you were saying exactly the same truisms you believed and thought were being especially Good and Clever for believing and they’re saying them all inelegantly and hamfistedly and for the wrong reasons like grievance and applause???? You HAVE to find it for yourself. That is a bad place to be—and that happens when you let yourself be moved too much. You have to not let yourself be moved except by you. You dont need to be on the cutting edge: You need to do you. Reinvent the wheel by all means if the wheel schematics are in your brain, or be a real true normie with the most basic aesthetic and media tests ever (I AM!!!!) but NEVER change your work and the sake of it being more popular. To make more $ sure, def change it, but for fun???? HAVE INTEGRITY WITH YOURSELF and what you want!! 15 kudos for something that is 100% truly yours what you wanted it to be is superior to 100 kudos for something that you compromised on even just 5% and buckled for bc then it’s something you don’t even want so like what was the point?

Any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year: 

i have this one medieval dc fic within the context of like william blakes mythopoesis that I’ve been TRYING TO GET OUT and i alsoI have this Azrael&Dick enemies-to-???? fic in my mind where there shall be a silly (in context it is supposed to b sad. But describing it, it is very silly) scene where JPV has like all these mini hard pretzels in a bag and drops the bag and then half are broken in half and so JPV spreads them all out on the countertop and is breaking the others in half because of like. i don’t want to diagnosticize here bc JPV has a Lot going on but like OCD-adjacent reasons and Dick comes in and sighs and then in total pure silence under the kitchen light in the middle of the night they sit across from each other and break the rest of the pretzels in perfect halves until the unbalancedness doesnt  bother JPV anymore and after that JPV is so totally touched by that act and he is so obsessed enamored with DG

[mikeblocky]

Misaki Takamatsu speaks about her long-term serialization journey in Skip and Loafer (Translation)

Shuko Yokoi: Behind the Creation of Manga, Vol. 16 Shuko Yokoi - Manga Writer

Shuko Yokoi explores the beginnings of manga stories by speaking with their creators in her series "Behind the Creation of Manga." In its 16th installment, she sits down with Misaki Takamatsu, the author of Skip and Loafer.

Skip and Loafer: A quick synopsis

Mitsumi Iwakura, a bright and earnest girl from rural Ishikawa Prefecture, enters a prestigious high school in Tokyo as the top student in her class. While navigating her new environment, her straightforward and slightly quirky personality begins to influence her classmates in ways she doesn't realize. Among them is Shima, the "popular boy," with whom she slowly builds a meaningful connection. A heartwarming school-life comedy about the subtle power of sincerity.

A hybrid of Shojo and Seinen manga?

Yokoi: Reading Skip and Loafer feels so uplifting. It’s quite different from your earlier works, like Ameko Hime or The Boat of Canaries.

Takamatsu: That’s true. When I first started submitting stories, I mostly worked on short, standalone pieces. The Boat of Canaries, for instance, was heavier in tone, which suited the shorter format. But when I struggled to get approval for long-running concepts, I began thinking, if it’s going to be a longer series, why not make it something that encourages and uplifts readers? That shift also led me to adopt a lighter art style.

Chapter 1

Yokoi: Mitsumi’s expressions feel so vibrant and full of life.

Takamatsu: Thank you! I wanted her to feel cute but approachable, so I kept the lines simple and clean. During this time, I revisited shojo manga I loved as a student, like My Love Story!! by Aruko and Kazune Kawahara and My Little Monster by Robico. As a reader, I hadn’t noticed their subtle techniques, but revisiting them as a creator taught me a lot—how to leave certain lines out, how to balance coolness and cuteness in key panels.

Chapter 2

Yokoi: Skip and Loafer is serialized in the seinen magazine Afternoon, but it feels like it carries the soul of shojo manga in many ways.

Takamatsu: I think it’s had a huge influence on me. Since it’s a seinen magazine, I initially explored themes that felt more fitting—like professions, clubs, or other specialized topics—but they didn’t align with what I truly wanted to write. For example, if I focused too much on character drama in a shogi (Japanese chess) manga, readers might start wondering, “What happened to the shogi? Where is this story even going?” But with a romance-based shojo manga, those concerns seem to fade. It’s such a fascinating genre that allows for more flexibility.

Yokoi: There’s that saying about storytelling: “Meet expectations, but subvert them too.” Romance seems to naturally leave room for unexpected turns, without rigidly fixed outcomes.

Takamatsu: Exactly. Romance is a theme without a set goal or a definitive “correct” path. Readers can imagine and interpret as they go, which makes it easy to follow and invest in. That’s why I borrowed the classic themes and structures of shojo manga as the foundation for Skip and Loafer. From there, I could focus on the characters and create a story that felt uniquely mine.

It starts off like a typical rom-com—a “city boy” falling for a “simple, country girl”—but gradually, it’s clear that the story isn’t quite what you’d expect. Predictability isn’t fun, so I worked to subvert expectations little by little, surprising and delighting readers along the way.

Turning the "Prince" character into someone who feels human

Yokoi: You’ve mentioned before that Mitsumi and Shima’s dynamic was inspired by Mitsunari Ishida and Sakon Shima from Ryotaro Shiba’s novel Sekigahara. But, um… the connection seems a bit distant now, doesn’t it?

Takamatsu: (Laughs) Yes, the original inspiration has almost completely disappeared. But reading Shiba’s masterpiece taught me something vital: strong characters are everything. Mitsunari in Sekigahara is this intelligent, somewhat prickly figure who rubs people the wrong way, while Sakon, his loyal retainer, sees through his awkwardness and thinks, “He’s so bad at expressing himself, but that’s kind of endearing.” I loved the idea of a relationship that embraces someone’s flaws.

Chapter 1

Yokoi: It’s the kind of bond that goes beyond conventional labels like friendship or loyalty.

Takamatsu: Exactly. I wanted to explore that kind of relationship in a school setting. Of course, Sekigahara is steeped in war, which adds an intensity that wouldn’t suit a school-life comedy. So I gave Mitsumi some lovable quirks and made her more approachable to balance things out.

Yokoi: Mitsumi and Shima’s relationship feels refreshing—it’s not strictly romantic, yet it’s deeply compelling.

Takamatsu: That reflects my own high school experience. I had more fun with friends than anything else. I’d spend my allowance on manga instead of clothes, and I was so focused on art school that my mind was far from romance. Not everyone is caught up in love during their teenage years, and I wanted to depict that reality.

Yokoi: That balance of emotions feels universal. Are you the type to vividly remember your school days?

Takamatsu: I think so—memory might be one of my strengths. I remember the feelings, thoughts, and dynamics of those years very clearly. At first, I worried those details were too mundane to hold readers’ interest. But as I received feedback, I realized those “ordinary” parts were what readers connected with the most.

Yokoi: Many manga artists seem to have remarkable memories. It feels like a special gift.

Takamatsu: (Smiles) Maybe. But I also try to balance realism with gentleness. I don’t want the story to feel too raw or painful. Take Shima, for instance. At the beginning, he’s a "prince" type—a genuinely nice guy, but honestly, a bit too convenient. He’s the kind of character who inexplicably likes the protagonist and is always there to help her. At some point, though, I wanted readers to see, No, this guy is human too, with his own struggles.

The same goes for Mitsumi. I didn’t want her to be so good-natured that she came across as a saint. That would make her feel distant and less relatable. It’s about keeping the characters grounded while letting them shine.

Chapter 55

The bond between Mitsumi and Shima: A journey through time

Yokoi: Are there any particular scenes that left a strong impression on you?

Takamatsu: There are many, but one that stands out is the moment in Volume 7 when Mitsumi and Shima, after briefly dating, decide to go back to being friends. It’s a scene that could only exist because of the long journey they’ve shared. It’s something they could only say to each other because of the foundation they’ve built as friends over time.

I was worried readers might dislike Shima for that decision, but thankfully, that wasn’t the case. There are so many moments like that throughout the series—ones that only became possible because I was able to continue the story all the way through to Volume 11. Those are the kinds of scenes that make long-running storytelling so rewarding.

Chapter 46 - Warm Picnic

Yokoi: That’s one of the joys of a long-running series—the time to explore those shifts.

Takamatsu: Absolutely. The teenage years are such a transformative time—like a sponge, you absorb so much and evolve in ways unique to that period. I want to keep exploring how personalities and relationships shift during those formative years. If readers can feel that growth alongside the characters, connect with their journeys, and cheer them on, that would make me incredibly happy.

A story rooted in home and the heart

Yokoi: One character that becomes more and more moving as the story progresses is Mitsumi’s aunt, Nao. The scene where she cries alone in her hometown in Ishikawa changes meaning as the volumes go on.

Takamatsu: Thank you for saying that. As I worked on the series, I realized that the story isn’t about declaring, “City life is better” or “The countryside is the best.” Through Mitsumi, I wanted to depict the warmth and openness of rural life. At the same time, Nao’s journey as a transgender woman allowed me to show that the city offers a space where some people can truly thrive and express themselves. It’s about finding where you belong and honoring both sides of that balance.

Chapter 55

Yokoi: Mitsumi’s hometown is described as being “at the edge of Ishikawa Prefecture,” and Skip and Loafer has consistently included efforts to support the areas affected by the Noto Peninsula Earthquake. The 10th volume even had a special edition dedicated to disaster relief.

Takamatsu: I’m so grateful for all the people who have actively supported the relief efforts, especially during times when I couldn’t do much myself. It’s been a year since the earthquake, but the region has also suffered from heavy rains, and some areas still don’t have fully restored sewer systems. There’s a lot more to be done, and I plan to continue supporting these efforts moving forward.

A friend in the form of a story

Yokoi: Your acceptance speech at the Kodansha Manga Awards has stayed with me. You said, “When life feels like a battle against regret and loss, I hope my work can stand by readers like a friend, reminding them that it’s not just about those things.”

Takamatsu: As we grow older, it’s inevitable that we face moments of profound loss—whether it’s the death of someone close or other significant challenges. In those moments, instead of focusing on what’s gone, I think it’s important to realize, I had so much fullness in my life before this. That perspective can help us remember that we’ve been supported, loved, and fulfilled in ways we might overlook during hard times. That’s the kind of feeling I want my stories to evoke. If Skip and Loafer inspires someone to reach out to a friend they haven’t spoken to in a while, or to summon the courage to connect with someone they care about, I’d be so happy. Human relationships often reward us most when we engage with them wholeheartedly, even if it takes some effort. It’s in those genuine, fearless moments of connection that we find something truly meaningful.

Chapter 19

Original resources

Interview: Link

Chapters: 1, 2, 19, 46, 55, translated by Tsubame Club and other people! Please check them on MangaDex: Link and also support the original version on COMIC Days: Link

All translated and resourced by me! Thank you for reading this!

[slushie5544]

(1/2) A New Year, Same Old Love

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62014474/chapters/158590699

Yes this is based off @msmimundo ‘s new years comic! It started as a one-shot but then this happened so enjoy the first part of this Perryshmirtz New Years two-shot (If you squint enough this could be a song fic..)

Word count: 2,508

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

A bright purple blast from Heinz’s disguised inator blasted over the crowd of excited partygoers as they blissfully watched the New Year ball drop; not even registering the unknown light that flashed over them. However, Perry didn’t move from his spot, with arms crossed over his chest and a neutral expression he merely watched as his long-time nemesis finally ‘defeated him’. Even when Heinz gloated about his success and tried to get everyone to follow him to take over the Tri-State area, the platypus stayed in his seat. He knew this plan wouldn’t work out as someone mentioned, -no one ever keeps their New Year resolutions!

Hey, it was a New Year, and even an ‘evil’ scientist deserved a win occasionally. It was a short-lived victory, but seeing that wide, crooked smile and hearing his boisterous laugh made it worth it for the platypus. Perry had to fight back his smirk when he noticed how frustrated Heinz was becoming at the realization that his plans were once again foiled; it was a silent joy the agent took pleasure in. That is until he was called out for still throwing his usual punches and over-the-top cartoony violence despite knowing what would happen. His eyes softened and shoulders raised with a grin curling the side of his beak- because that’s what they do!

Finally, figuring his job was done here, Perry hopped down from the stoop and b-lined it for a side door before any of his family members noticed his presence. Just barely making it to an exit, he looked over his shoulder at the large monitor broadcasting the kids celebrating together back at home. Heinz was gone from the stage, something panged within his chest, but the platypus shook his head and turned to the mob of people near the dancefloor- He couldn’t have gone far.

Couples, friends, and family were all gathered together too enthralled in each other’s company to pay much mind to anything else around them. On the other side of the room were three familiar faces he had been trying to avoid all night- Oh, the irony.

However, instead of turning away, Perry paused and watched his family members enjoy their night together. Candace and her boyfriend were almost like a couple from a fantasy, their sways and spins had them completely take up the room, but their focus was solely on the other. It was as if they were in a fairytale just like the stories Linda would tell her daughter on nights when the little girl couldn’t sleep. Though he’d never admit it to himself, Perry enjoyed the stories as he curled up at the end of her bed to keep company on those especially hard nights. Seeing Jeremy dipped and twirled, Candace brought back that strange tightness to the agent’s chest, but he quickly shook the feeling with a roll of his eyes. He had to remember this was reality, not some made-up fantasy world! Besides, Perry never saw himself as any of kind ‘prince charming’ he always preferred the idea of being a knight instead; plus Heinz would never accept being the ‘damsel in distress’!- Maybe some kind of mischievous alchemist or a warlock.

As both teenagers continued maneuvering through the crowd he spotted Linda and Lawrence dancing together. With interlocked fingers and slow steps together, the married couple leaned their heads against one another while blindly guiding each other. They didn’t need to open their eyes though, having done this dance hundreds of times all they needed was to trust one another. It was as if they were completely cut off from the party’s loud and lively atmosphere; instead, they were lost in each other’s presence and went at their own pace. It was a type of love that only bloomed after years of knowing and accepting one another from the inside and out. From the smallest quirks to even the downright insane ideas they come up with because they were meant for each other as husband and wife. The two embraced one another in a kiss which Perry had to tear his eyes away from to look at his empty teal paws which clenched then opened against his chest- What color would look the best if that ever happened? Wait…

Before his thoughts could get the best of Perry he turned to the exit door that had been his escape route only to be met by a pair of legs that blocked the path. However, his mind only spiraled back to the images he had been trying to shake off as the person in thought stared him down with those midnight hues. A smirk twisted on the man’s lips as he stepped closer and adjusted his bowtie.- OH NOW HE SHOWS UP!?

“Well, well, well, Perry the Platypus… Leaving so soon? The party’s just getting started!” the agent took a step back with fists raised, but Heinz quickly stepped forward with his hands in the air. “No seriously! It’s a New Year’s party and everyone is so busy mingling that the buffet is completely up for grabs! I was thinking about taking a dish or two home honestly and…” Perry lowered his paws and arched an eyebrow, to which his nemesis let out a sigh and started rubbing the back of his neck, “Listen, my plan may not have worked out quite like I thought, b-b-but I still technically won a-and every time you win you always just up and leave, well not this time! New year, new me baby!! Now as the official winner, I do believe a reward is in order!”

With a half-smirk that rivaled Perry’s, Heinz extended a hand out for his nemesis to grab. The agent took a slight glance over his shoulder, his family was on the other side of the wave of people, though he figured if they hadn’t seen him on the stage then perhaps the other was right.- They’re so busy with one another that they wouldn’t even notice.

“Oh come on Perry the Platypus, are you cold feet, or should I be the one to lead this ti-eaahh-!?”

Heinz hadn’t even finished his tease when the small platypus jerked him forward with enough force to cause him to stumble into the crowd. Thankfully, Perry was able to catch the back of his suit before he hit the ground, with another forceful yank backward the platypus caught the taller man with both of his paws looped under his slim back. Thankfully Heinz's heightened reaction time always came in handy as he quickly maneuvered and balanced in the mammal’s grip by bending his knees and encircling his arms around the agent. With wide eyes, Heinz tried to chuckle over the rising lump in his throat as half-lidded chestnut orbs stared back at him. The flush of red started from his ears and he could feel the rush make its way to his face. Heinz started thinking maybe he should’ve found an outfit with fewer layers.

Perry gave a chirr of satisfaction and brought the other back up to his feet, but just for added flair he also took the man’s arms, spun him in a circle then caught his hands again. Once he finally got his balance, Heinz realized he was already following in step with the platypus. Paw in hand, the two mirrored one another and kicked to the beat of the music. However, all they could hear was the thumping of their hearts against their chest as the duo kept up with one another no matter the surprise. When Heinz took both of his paws and crouched to his level, Perry saw a glint of mischievous delight which he quickly understood. Always one step ahead of his nemesis the small mammal hopped in the air so he could be swung once, then twice before somersaulting in the air so he could land on Heinz’s arched back.

“You always have to show off in some sort of way, don’t you? I bet you wouldn’t be as flashy if we were similar heights! Well no matter, because no one can resist the ultimate dance move, the bee’s knees! Muahaha, I guess you can say this is my plan Bee! I’m just buzzing with all kinds of plans this year! Oh, I’m sorry are my amazing puns bugging you? Didn’t know you were such a Buzzkii-aack! Hey!!” With a roll of his eyes, Perry flipped over Heinz’s shoulders and pushed his tophat down further, till it covered his eyes and put an end to his spew of puns. “Alright, alright, I’m done! Yeesh, some just can't appreciate a good joke every so often! Curse you Perry the Platypus!”

While the smug platypus watched the other struggle wriggling the tight brim off of his head, Perry couldn’t fight the silent chuckle any longer. Had his nemesis been able to lift the hat up he would’ve seen the dopiest, most lovestruck smile that overtook his usual nonchalant neutral expression. However, instead the two stopped when the music came to a scratching halt and a voice spoke overhead.

“Alright Ladies, Gentlemen, and Everyone else in between! It’s time to slooooww~ down a bit as we start wrapping this wicked New Year’s party up! So grab a loved one and enjoy the next couple of tracks to start your year off right! Our first song has been highly requested, this goes out to all the couples who’ve been going through it, but are still preserving together! No matter the differences or trials their love is put through, but at the end of the day know it's all worth it for them!!”

Perry was the first to react as he looked up and noticed the lights dimmed to a softer purple and blue with magenta hues that reflected from the spinning disco ball above. From the speakers, a reverbed autotuned voice repeated the words in a language he had learned years ago while in the academy. Just hearing the first handful of lyrics before the beat picked up made the platypus grateful his fur covered his heated face.- I love you, I hate you, I love you, I hate you.

“UGH! Verdammt, dieser blöde Hut!” Perry glanced back to Heinz who gave up on taking off the tight hat. “Great, now I’m stuck annnnd… Perry the Platypus left..” his shoulders sank, “again.. Fantastic, truly, just what I wanted! Ditched, in the middle of a slow-dancing crowd that I can’t even see to get out! I can barely even hear the music. Is this French? What even are some of these lyrics, ‘Better than alone, is to be in bad company’? That’s not even how the saying go-WOoAH!”

Amidst his blind rant, Heinz’s hand was grabbed and tugged to the ground which he hadn’t expected leading to his knees quickly buckling under him. Thankfully, and to his surprise, a small frame caught his fall with short arms wrapping under his armpits.

“P-Perry the Platypus? You’re still here, wh-what are you doing?”

He didn’t get an answer, not even a chitter back; instead, Perry guided the other’s neck down to help him out of this predicament. However, as the small mammal reached up to grab the tophat’s brim he hesitated as the lyrics before the chorus quietly repeated in his mind- Stay close to your dearest friends, but also even closer to your adversaries.

For a split second chestnut brown eyes trailed down to the thin line of Heinz’s lips and trailed up the sharp edges of his jawline. He hadn’t missed the faintly darker shade that slowly rose up his high cheeks partially hidden under the cap. Perry looked straight ahead only to realize how close their nose and beak were. However, no matter how much Heinz complained about his nose constantly ‘being in the way,’ the billed mammal merely saw it as another feature of the scientist that he could easily kii-ck… Kick! Nothing more!

After forgetting his thoughts, the agent gave the top hat a quick yet forceful tug which managed to at least free his face from the confines. Well, this was a bad idea on Perry’s end as the grown man looked down at him with wide eyes that matched the dark sky. The magenta-accented lights only made them shimmer like he held the stars in them, but to the other, he held the galaxy.- What kind of emotion, is it hatred, or pure sweetness when I hear your name?

“Er… Perry the Platypus, are you ok? You look like you’ve either seen a ghost or considering punching me in the.. I haven’t even done anything! You’re the one holding me down here! A-Anyways, thanks for the help I’ll go ahead and get back up nn..-ooow!! Will you stop doing that!? I am not just some doll you can drag arounnn… what are you doing?”

Before Heinz made a move to start standing he was pulled back down by his nemesis who stared up at him with a narrow glare, but something seemed different. Perry didn’t move, his eyes were locked onto his, but he seemed lost in thought. Was there something on his face? Maybe the hat left an awkward indentation across his face, his cheeks were definitely becoming warm from the blood circulating back up, that was all it was, surely! Raising a hand, Heinz went to rub the irritation from his face, but his palm was caught by a small paw.

Perry could do this, they’ve danced together numerous times! This couldn’t be any different than every other time hes led them through it. The steps on how to dance with his nemesis came to his mind as he reached his right paw around Heinz’s waist. However, despite the closed distance when the platypus took the first step back, the hunched man didn’t follow along. His knees barely had room to move forward comfortably, not to mention it seemed the other wasn’t sure what was going on.This wasn’t going to work, this was a stupid idea to begin with! It was like the song was taunting him at this point.- But my best enemy is you.. Flee from me, the worst is you and I.

A small irritated growl escaped from the agent as his shoulders dropped, but he didn’t let go of the scientist in his small hold. He took one more glance up and down his face before sighing and pulled Heinz up from his knees.

“Wh- You pulled me down to the ground just so you could help me back up!? You know Perry the Platypus, sometimes you’re a real mystery to even me..”

Perry could feel his eye twitch at his nemesis’s obliviousness, it truly was a blessing and a curse for the platypus. Quickly though he turned around while pulling his fedora down, the once mild warmth that started under his fur was making its way down his bill. Was it from frustration or the embarrassment? Honestly, Perry wasn’t entirely sure himself. But the last lyrics of the song only hammered in how truly felt.- I hate you, I love you, I hate you, I love you..

Well thank you guys for reading this far! If you’ve seen the next part of their comic then you’ll know where this is gonna lead, but I just gotta work out the kinks and knots and stuff lmaooo!!!

I’ve been really wanting to find an excuse to write these two dancing and this is the closest imma get until I get to the ball scene in my Cinderella au, so this shall suffice!

Like always thank you guys for even reading this far and much love to all of you!!! Hope you guys enjoyed and uh… yeah.. 🤎💙💕

[obstinaterixatrix]

webtoon-wise:

Her Tale of Shim Chong (~90 chapters), retelling of korean folklore, solid art/pacing/writing from what I remember (though it's been a while), also good for almost-rancid (but not quite) vibes

I Love Amy (~60 chapters), high school setting, artist's goal was to have a yandere character get a happy ending, good reference for high energy/dysfunctional characters and relationship building while a main character is switching targets (as opposed to master of the fox bead which imo spent a little too much time on the red herring love interest guy)

Sherbet Above the Sea of Fog (~60+ chapters), good reference point for fantasy, one-sided relationships, and very gag-oriented super comedic writing that still leaves room for pathos and interesting developments (as opposed to hero and former general, which imo is too gag-oriented for emotional investment)

Partition (~60 chapters), office romance, hits a very BL-type vibe because both characters are high energy and the main character kinda sucks a little as a person (LOL), main story extends beyond establishing relationship

indie project-wise:

After Hours (20 pgs), office/supernatural romance, good reference for short-form genre-juggling and tension building, I LOVE THIS COMIC!!!!

Gimm*r Vol 1 (~100 pgs), anthology, a lot of good examples of short-form comics

Influenca (~80 pgs), supernatural slice of life, good reference point for more experimental/non-linear narrative stuff

Of Thunder and Lightning (~60 pgs), good point of reference for violence and vibes that don't hit explicit romance but are very loaded

Misc:

Fear and Trembling is a 2003 french-japanese film where part of it is the main character having a weird toxic unfulfilled relationship with her supervisor, watch it to get a reference point for weird toxic unfulfilled relationships

yuricon is a site run by erica friedman, who is the writer of 'by your side: the first 100 years of yuri anime and manga'--good english resource for the genre, I've been meaning to actually sit down and read it. the website has essays/podcasts/yuri news (just checked okazu and learned that galette is having a kickstarter...!), so it's a good academic/news reference. There's a lot of narratives/tropes that you kind of pick up when you learn about the genre, like class s narratives, which can contextualize older yuri and what some current yuri might be referencing/subverting.

translation of a jp blog post about yuri taxonomy

yuri made me human interview part 1 & part 2

Where Is My Place in the World?: Early Shojo Manga Portrayals of Lesbianism by Fujimoto Yukari, translated by Lucy Fraser (got the link to the paper from this tumblr post)

The Sexual and Textual Politics of Japanese Lesbian Comics: Reading Romantic and Erotic Yuri Narratives (using the archive.org link because the website is down)

Bit of an odd one here, but do you have any yuri/GL recommendations for people interested in learning how to learn and write the genre well? Stuff that fires on all cylinders and hits every target, even if it doesn't exactly break the mold (tbh I just want to write girls... no, I shan't say. But I want to do it WELL, y'know?)

YES, manga-wise:

Still Sick (3 volumes) is good for grounded but still silly office romance, the main character tables at cons selling yuri doujin and her coworker finds out her secret, the women are just some guys

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko (3 volumes) is good for high energy high stupidity office romance (that still hits pathos, does explore internalized homophobia), ayaka is down bad for hiroko and hiroko is very ‘WOAH STRAIGHT WOMEN ARE SO SCARY… STAY BACK, TEMPTRESS’, the women are just some guys

5 Seconds Before a Witch Falls In Love (2 chapters + short extra) is good for short-form action-oriented romance with a witch hunter and a witch, the artist mainly writes BL, the women are just some guys

Hana to Hoshi (2 volumes) is good high energy high stupidity high school romance between table tennis ex-rivals, the gals are just some guy

my preferences skew towards romcom rather than drama/slice of life so if you’re looking for that I have some titles but not a lot to say (and I haven’t read all of these in-depth):

Run Away With Me, Girl where a woman reunited with her high school ex who is in a currently abusive relationship and they run away together. Good for distinct art style, heavier storyline that still wraps up in 3 volumes

Even Though We’re Adults, a woman hooks up with someone who turns out to be married; shimura is pretty prolific (I mean she wrote aoi hana), as far as I remember competent character writing and scope; good for long-form reference for heavier storylines (10 volumes)

How Do We Relationship, more coming of age than yuri imo but good for long-form messy college relationships

She Likes to Cook, She Likes to Eat, very slice of life, grounded to realistic emotions and experiences, definitely comes from a place of Wanting To Represent The Queer Experience, can be a reference for low-key romance

The Two of Them are Pretty Much Like This, age gap slice of life established relationship, good for slow atmosphere and conflicts beyond will-they-won’t-they

I have a couple webtoons to add to the list but this is eating up my snow frolicking time so I’ll add that in like 4-5 hours if I remember. also I have an ff recs tag

[nowtoboldlygo]

recs for women in translation month: The Blind Earthworm in the Labyrinth by Veeraporn Nitiprapha, translated from the Thai by Kong Rithdee. purple prose surrealist high drama magical little novel, you stole my heart. the translator also included a botanical and playlist annex in the back because he loves me 💜

[yasmeensh]

Paleolithic Media Catalogue

Hello everyone :) Short story first: When I began brainstorming for my prehistoric story, I started wondering what other prehistoric fiction there is out there. I was not familiar with it and have not seen much. That's when I started my grand literature review and began a search for what fiction exist out there. I wanted to know what kinds of stories are being made with this time period. What are the common themes or recurring ideas (I found lots of humans and dinosaurs works. And time travel). Since I've had a growing collection on my computer, I decided I should keep on enlarging it and put it online. It's nowhere near complete. I'll slowly keep accumulating the collection as I find more. I only have fiction books and comics right now. I still need to work on the film section.

You can access the blog here!

***

As for where I am in my reading, the one's I've finished reading are Earth's Children series (book 1-4. Dropped it afterwards lol. I made a post on with fanart) Dance of the Tiger and it's sequel Singletusk (They were good! I'll upload my review on the blog), and Sisters of the Wolf (It was ok!). I got my hands on The Inheritors and excited to start reading it. I REALLY want to read the Shiva trilogy, but I found no PDF online... and it's out of print :( There is certainly old copies on ebay. And I want to read Chronicles of Ancient Darkness. There seem to be lots of good books out there.