#why didn’t i just get the kindle version

[gogandmagog]

Guys! Yesterday I had a book-shaped piece of mail, and inside of it was my copy of Children and Childhoods in L.M. Montgomery: Continuing Conversations being returned, from another very dear user here! I bring this up only because some-months-ago I promised to copy out a particular article from this book, for yet another user here, who was interested! Interested because it’s on the the subject of a Fan Favourite thing... fan fiction. And better still because some of our (basically famous) mutuals here are mentioned by name! If you’ve ever wondered if the Montgomery scholarship is reading your fan fiction... the answer is yes, they are! They totally are. More than that, they also have some thoughts to share… as well as recommendations of their faves too! This article even covers the F/F and M/M fan fiction presented by fans in LMM’s universe, and I’m personally super excited to be able to begin reading these works, as soon as I can find them all. I’ve done my best to link what I could immediately find, but some of the mentioned stories were unavailable... potentially due to changes in usernames? (That said... if anyone knows of the works indicated here, that I haven’t provided a link for, please do share!)   This article, by the way, was written recently... in 2020! It’s very current, and it covers a few stories that were still being actively updated during the pandemic. The focus of this article is less so on canon (or really just the Anne/Gilbert pairing), though, and seems to prefer demonstrating the versatility of mixing relationships (Anne and Emily, for one!) and the wider more general universe-building aspects (the entanglements of future generations/Anne’s grandchildren) that fans have been expounding on for nothing less than decades. 

Okay, here we go! xx

Continuing Stories: L.M. Montgomery and Fanfiction in the Digital Era by Balaka Basu

Fanfiction – the recreational (re)writing of texts – is a literary genre of rapidly growing significance. Abigail Derecho in her brief history of fanfiction identifies it as “a genre that has a long history of appealing to women and minorities, minorities, individuals on the cultural margins who used archontic writing as a means to express not only their narrative creativity, but their criticisms of social and political inequities as well.”

Insightfully defined by Francesca Coppa and Mary Ellen Curtin as “speculative fiction about character,” fanfiction can be even more precisely understood as fantasies about the diegetic positioning of characters in the context of various settings, communities, relationships both textual and paratextual, and eventually all manner of cultural mythologies.

Kristina Busse and Karen Hellekson describe the production of fanfiction as “part collaboration and part response to not only the source text, but also the cultural context within and outside the fannish community in which it is produced.”

They point out that the shift in the method of dissemination of fanfiction from newsletters and zines to internet archives means that “ever-younger fans who previously would not have had access to the fannish culture except through their parents can now enter the fan space effortlessly; financial resources have become less of a concern because access to a computer is the only prerequisite; and national boundaries and time zones have ceased to limit fannish interaction.”

The nature of fanfiction allows participants to cross-generational and socio-economic boundaries in an ongoing exchange of responses to a source text with which they share a fascination, developing new texts that in turn elicit their own responses. While the creation of fanfiction is evidence of an affective, loving, communal relationship with the source text, this genre of writing is still dismissed in many quarters as overly emotional, purely erotic, and even perverse, a type of amateur and immature engagement with popular texts that produces writing necessarily divorced from literary significance. Produced in staggeringly vast quantities by subcultures with complex vocabularies and traditions that can intimidate the casual reader, fanfiction is perceived by many to be more of a cultural practice than a literary genre, variously denigrated for its pornographic potential and its lack of originality. However, close examination reveals that fan writers are able to create a critical dialogue with the originating author in acts of communal storytelling that incorporate allusions and reference points to which other dedicated fan readers and writers may respond.

In this chapter, after examining how L.M. Montgomery and her writer heroine Emily themselves engage in practices now associated with fanfiction, I survey four forms of fanfiction that remove Montgomery’s novels from her seemingly idyllic and timeless island settings, contextualizing her characters and plots within history and other genres: the sequel set during the Second World War, the modern AU (alternate universe), the gap-filler, and the slash fic, all of which allow the young readers who grow up with her novels to engage in dialogue with the stories they love, a type of literary conversation that Montgomery herself models within her texts. Emily’s reading, which is active rather than passive, resembles twenty-first-century fans’ ownership of the texts they love, provoking creative responses. For instance, after reading works by Lord Tennyson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and Matthew Arnold, Emily writes, “Teddy lent me 3 books of poetry. One of them was Tennyson and I have learned The Bugle Song off by heart so I will always have it. One was Mrs. Browning. She is lovely. I would like to meet her. I suppose I will when I die but that may be a long time away. The other was just one poem called Sohrab and Rustum. After I went to bed I cried over it. Aunt Elizabeth said ‘what are you sniffling about?’ I wasn’t sniffling – I was weeping sore … I couldn’t go to sleep until I had thought out a different end for it – a happy one.”

The reactions Emily catalogues are those of the fan; they are viscerally felt in the body and attempt to dissolve the boundary between author and reader, producer and consumer. She inscribes Tennyson within her heart in order to possess the poem she loves; she creates a relationship between Barrett Browning and herself; and, most significantly, she interjects her own desired happy ending into Arnold’s tragic narrative, a corrective desire that is at the core of many works of fanfiction. Emily’s diaries and her story reflect Montgomery’s own experiences from childhood to adulthood as reader, writer, and reader-turned-writer discussed in the introduction to this volume. Depicting Emily as a voracious reader and a life-writer like herself, Montgomery places the child Emily’s voice in conversation with that of the narrator through Emily’s letters to her dead father in Emily of New Moon and through her diary entries in Emily Climbs and Emily’s Quest, creating a form of joint authorship that is referenced explicitly in “Salad Days,” the second chapter of Emily Climbs: “book is not going to be wholly, or even mainly, made up of extracts from Emily’s diary; but, by way of linking up matters unimportant enough for a chapter in themselves, and yet necessary for a proper understanding of her personality and environment, I am going to include some more of them. Besides, when one has material ready to hand, why not use it?”

The narrator’s willingness to use the “material” that is “ready to hand” reflects Montgomery’s and Emily’s practices, and also validates other writers’ use of the material Montgomery places at their disposal. As with many fans, Emily’s reading frequently makes itself felt within her writing.

Like Montgomery, Emily learns her trade through mimicry, from her first poem in blank verse inspired by James Thomson’s Seasons to her unwitting imitation of Kipling that is pointed out by her teacher, Mr Carpenter, in his review of her work. Like Sara Stanley of The Story Girl, whose compelling and fascinating stories are rarely if ever original, Emily is a fan of the oral traditions of her community, incorporating and building upon them in her own writing, transforming and recreating, for instance, the story of “The Woman Who Spanked the King” in Emily Climbs.

The retelling and versioning that Emily practises signal her immense admiration for the source texts she adapts, just as the creation of fanfiction does for Montgomery’s readership and fans. The possibilities inherent in versioning and adaptation are illustrated in Emily’s Quest. When Montgomery depicts Emily undertaking the reworking of someone else’s narrative, she is adapting an episode from her own experience while working for The Echo in Halifax, which she records in her journal. Montgomery, like Emily, was asked to create an ending for a serialized story, “A Royal Betrothal,” after compositors had misplaced the original text.

Like Emily, she claims that her “knowledge of royal love affairs [was] limited,” and that she was unaccustomed “to write with flippant levity of kings and queens.” Nevertheless, Montgomery manages to create a conclusion that passes muster, since “as yet nobody has guessed where the ‘seam’ comes in.” She is, however, curious about the original author’s reaction to her unauthorized adaptation, and while she never discovers this in real life, she does imagine it in her fiction when she introduces Mark Greaves, who is horrified by Emily’s new ending for the story but enchanted by its author. Neither Montgomery nor Emily engages in this sort of writing from a place of fandom; they have no previous attachment to “A Royal Betrothal,” and both are writing professionally. Nevertheless, the ability to solve the puzzle of the story and the weaving of their work into an already extant text are the very project of fanfiction: ludic narrative composition that recalls the way children play make-believe with the narratives they love, reworking and extending them. It is telling that Montgomery uses the metaphor of the “seam” to describe this particular craft. Jane Dawkins, writing about her fanfiction, which is inspired by Jane Austen, describes her fan novel Letters from Pemberley as “an old-fashioned patchwork quilt, where in place of the scraps of fabric reminding one of the favorite frocks or shirts whence they came, there is a line or a phrase or a sentence from one of [the original] books or letters stitched alongside the lesser scraps of my own manufacture.”

Montgomery’s final book, framed by the two world wars, is just such a patchwork sequel, albeit providing only brief glimpses of the characters that readers met as children and who have now grown older. When a version of the book was published in 1974 as The Road to Yesterday, these glimpses, lacking the interstitial materials, became even briefer, mirroring the more forced insertion of beloved characters that the two earlier collections, Chronicles of Avonlea and Further Chronicles of Avonlea, display. Only two of Anne’s grandchildren – Gilbert Ford and Walter Blythe – are obliquely referred to, in the story “A Commonplace Woman,” where an unpleasant young doctor reflects on both of them as potential rivals for the affection of a beautiful girl he himself hopes to pursue.

However, the full novel, The Blythes Are Quoted, published in 2009 and comprised of short stories about the people in Glen St Mary and over the harbour, is interspersed with poetry by both a young Walter and an adult Anne. The poems are cut with tiny slices of dialogue that suggest the continuing lives of fans’ favourite characters and how they might have developed. In “‘Dragged at Anne’s Chariot Wheels’: L.M. Montgomery and the Sequels to Anne of Green Gables,” Carole Gerson notes the mixture of feelings from pleasure to frustration that Montgomery records in her journals as she prepares to write her first sequel.

While Montgomery wrote the first installments of her various series out of inspiration, she was certainly aware of what her market desired from subsequent installments. She often regretted the necessity of marrying off her characters, but was aware that her fans demanded this conventional outcome for the characters they had come to love; these traditionally romantic endings, when not offered by Montgomery herself at the instigation of her publishers, are regularly deployed by contemporary fanfiction authors building on the source texts.

Indeed, long before the original structure of The Blythes Are Quoted was revealed to readers in Benjamin Lefebvre’s afterword, fanfiction writers were spinning off lengthy narratives that included a third generation of young Blythes, Fords, and Merediths dealing with the onslaught of the Second World War. While earlier installments in the Anne series – such as Anne of Green Gables and Anne’s House of Dreams – depict the deaths of Matthew, Anne and Gilbert’s first daughter (Joyce), and Captain Jim, Walter’s death in Rilla of Ingleside is somehow more striking. Unlike Matthew and Captain Jim, he has not yet had time to grow old; unlike Joyce, readers have had opportunities to get to know him as a child in Rainbow Valley and as he grows into young adulthood in Rilla of Ingleside. His death is unnatural and, therefore, all the more horrifying. These two aspects of Rilla of Ingleside – the evocation of history by a nostalgic fictional world that is still tied to real time and the use of high drama, tragedy, and romance – provide fanfiction authors with a model they can use to appeal to the emotions of those readers who are immersed in the next generation of Montgomery characters.

The Second World War, then, provides an entry point into the series for fanfiction authors, who can deploy real history coupled with beloved characters to create a tale that feels absolutely authentic. One example of this is a short story, “The Pen and the Sword,” written in 2007 by MarnaNightingale. Here, mimicking the style of Dorothy L. Sayers’s The Wimsey Papers (a series of Spectator articles published between 1939 and 1940, which interestingly also continue the story of First World War–era characters during the Second World War), MarnaNightingale employs epistolary excerpts and newspaper articles to tell the story of a family going through the horrors of war for a second time. Grounding her fragmented story – like The Blythes Are Quoted, a mixture of genres – in the accounts of novelist Mollie Panter-Downes (1939) and war correspondents Ernie Pyle (1940) and Ross Munro of the Canadian Press (1941), whose articles are attributed to Kenneth Ford, she offers a story that, like Rilla of Ingleside, is anchored to the historical moment, while also nostalgically focusing on the character development that comes from Gilbert Ford’s death, Rilla’s and Faith’s reactions to the war, and the lives of their children. Here war also serves as an opportunity for new experiences, particularly for women and children: Rilla takes a factory job as a machinist, liking it better than working in Carter Flagg’s store; one of Anne’s grandchildren, Susan, plans to be a doctor; and Faith, who worked as a Voluntary Aid Detachment nurse in the First World War, mentions how she can sympathize. As well, the daily tidbits that flavour the pages of Rilla of Ingleside are there: one article, attributed to Anne, includes the recipe for Susan Baker’s war bread, reminding readers of the problems of wartime rationing, even in the Americas. Real life events – like the Canadian forces trying (and failing) to make a beachhead at Dieppe – arouse the passions of the reader. Unlike Austen – who also famously wrote of three or four families in a country town, but kept the Napoleonic wars firmly in the shadows – Montgomery brings the passions and high drama of the world stage into the sleepy villages of Prince Edward Island, which inspire fanfiction spinoffs.

The long novel Cecilia of Red Apple Farm, by a fan author who posts under the pseudonym ruby gillis, also directly reworks passages and scenes from the whole range of Anne books, set in the late-nineteenth century, to The Blythes Are Quoted, set in the early years of the Second World War, to highlight the similarity between her new generation of characters and their ancestors. Cecilia is the daughter of Una Meredith and Shirley Blythe (characters often married off in fanfiction). Like MarnaNightingale, ruby gillis provides period flavouring in the styles of dresses and behaviour and in references to 1940s popular films and songs. Simultaneously, this setting offers new opportunities to her female character: Cecilia wants to be a doctor, and rather than staying in Canada, she joins up to be a nurse in England. She has a series of romances – one with Sid Gardiner (before he marries May Binnie), and one with her cousin Blythe Meredith, who is this generation’s poet – before finally ending up with Marshall Douglas (the son of Mary Vance). Just as Anne initially refuses Gilbert Blythe in favour of Roy Gardner’s resemblance to her ideal man in Anne of the Island, ruby gillis’s Cecilia is fooled by the allure of Sid and Blythe as Roy Gardner–like romantic heroes into believing that she does not truly love her fun, practical, “Gilbert-esque” friend. Published in 2004, Cecilia of Red Apple Farm further illustrates the opportunities presented by reusing and reworking a body of texts through its incorporation of Montgomery’s poem “I Wish You” as the work of Blythe Meredith. Montgomery includes this poem and attributes it to Anne in The Blythes Are Quoted, although ruby gillis could not have known this when writing. The repetition of names and circumstances might seem derivative, but for readers who have read and reread the original books so many times, the extension of the story world is prized, even if – perhaps even because of – its callbacks to the original text. Due to the tendency of fans to fixate on “the good bits” in a reread, these parts can be taken for the whole.

Austen fanfiction demonstrates this aptly. Indeed, Helen Fielding’s second Bridget Jones novel, Bridget Jones and the Edge of Reason (1999), illustrates just such a reading of Pride and Prejudice: she shows Bridget, a fan, watching the scene from the 1995 mini-series in which Darcy, dripping in a wet see-through shirt, exits the lake, and then rewinding and rewatching the scene multiple times. How many times might a similar fan reread Walter’s letter from Courcelette? This repeated reviewing of selected portions can replace the amplitude of the original novel. With this delimited focus, narrative is no longer seen as a progression, but as a single moment of pleasure, sustained as long as possible. Reading the Second World War as a repetitive sequel to the First World War further highlights this possibility.

Even Montgomery seems to do so, as demonstrated in The Blythes Are Quoted, with its new generation of characters confusingly named after the old: Walter, Jem, Rilla, Di, Anne, and Gilbert. A variation on Marah Gubar’s kinship model, this kind of continuation highlights the blurred boundaries between child and adult characters who are literally related to one another and whose adventures mimic one another.

In a third example of fanfiction set during the Second World War, Weeping May Tarry, a long novel by ElouiseBates, Meggie, the heroine, is Shirley’s daughter (and also, surprisingly, Paul Irving’s granddaughter). In this story, which like Cecilia of Red Apple Farm is an installment of a longer series, Meggie is sent off to a conservatory of music to study singing, aptly combining the traditions of the nostalgic boarding-school novel with “Girl’s Own” wartime fiction. Following the tradition of Magic for Marigold, which explicitly suggests in its second chapter that the Murrays of Blair Water and the Lesleys of Cloud of Spruce exist in the same universe, @e-louise-bates (like many other fanfiction authors, including ruby gillis) suggests that all of Montgomery’s characters exist in a single universe: Meggie partners briefly with the grandson of Sara Stanley (The Story Girl and The Golden Road) and is close friends with Jane Stuart (Jane of Lantern Hill).

Going even further, @e-louise-bates introduces the grandchildren of the What Katy Did series as friends for Meggie and includes Betsy from Dorothy Canfield Fisher’s Understood Betsy as Bruce Meredith’s wife, creating a world where all the characters of early-twentieth-century girls’ fiction seem to have truly lived, where their descendants must cope with victory gardens and dances with soldiers at the Exhibition Grounds, and where kisses are much more commonplace than they once were.

These particular continuers of Montgomery are also desirous of membership in the community of her fans, seeing their literary endeavours as productive of approval from a fellow readership. Likewise, the novels are notable for their sociality – they seem to offer the reader not only a fantasy friendship with the characters themselves but also the very real society of fellow readers of the works. Thus, these fan authors attempt to diversify their stories so that they represent contemporary beliefs regarding multiculturalism; ruby gillis, for instance, introduces into the family by way of marriage a French girl who has had to flee the Nazis due to being Jewish, a situation Montgomery and her contemporaries might have had some difficulty accepting, considering early-twentieth-century attitudes toward interreligious marriage and Montgomery’s othering of the German-Jewish peddler who sells Anne green hair dye.

The Second World War thus offers writers of Montgomery fanfiction the loom on which to weave new, more diverse stories, even as The Blythes Are Quoted, which also traces the characters’ reactions to this new war, demonstrates how these readers-turned-writers followed Montgomery’s own trajectory, not knowing that they were doing so. On the subject of fanfiction, young-adult author Patricia C. Wrede writes: “The thing that fascinates me about fanfiction, though, is the way that it models the decision tree that writers go through (whether consciously or unconsciously) to get to their final product. For those of us who do this part mostly unconsciously, it can be interesting and instructing to see the multitude of alternate paths that a story could have taken, all laid out more-or-less neatly in different authors’ fanfics [… taking a slightly different fork in the road] resulting in the plot veering in a completely new direction. Friends become enemies; enemies become friends; goals and objectives and results shift and change.” Within these pieces of fanfiction, then, fan writers are able to follow these decision trees with subsequent generations of characters as well.

Another avenue of access occurs when fan authors transpose historical narratives into the contemporary moment. Perhaps the best-known example of this modern alternate universe [AU] conversion is the television program Sherlock, which takes Arthur Conan Doyle’s Victorian detective into the twenty-first century. While new cultural contexts appear, the essence of character is meant to be retained. Just as Sherlock uses text messages and blogs to substitute for telegraphs and handwritten journals, fans of Montgomery reimagine the relationships between her characters as if they were taking place online.

For instance, “Work in Progress” (2012) by verity postulates a friendship between Montgomery’s most famous heroines, Anne and Emily. In this piece of fanfiction, Emily circumvents Aunt Elizabeth’s injunction against fiction during her time at Shrewsbury High by becoming a blogger who is restricted to the “truth.” The story’s online summary, a part of which reads “Anne rolls her eyes. ‘Is your aunt really going to know if you cheat on your nonfiction with some hot prose on the side?’” shows how the story preserves the character qualities that Montgomery laid out, complete with references to the Murray pride and Anne’s orphanhood. Mr Carpenter’s admonitions are spelled out at the beginning of the story:

“Emily Byrd Starr has a sticky note on her desktop. It reads:

ITALICS

CAPITALS

!!!!!

“just”

“really”

CTRL+F!

It is almost like having Mr Carpenter in the room with her.”

Verity creates humour through the juxtaposition of contemporary social media and allusions to Montgomery’s source text. Another story by verity detailing Rilla’s romance with Ken Ford and her friendship with Una Meredith, “Rilla of Toronto,” takes place mainly through instant messages. In this story, Rilla reflects on her life from eighteen to twenty-five, tracing a continuum from her child self to her new adulthood, underscored by verity’s translation of Montgomery’s work into contemporary millennial language.

A third type of fanfiction narrative, the gap-filler, focuses on and expands the implications of the source texts. Moira Walley-Beckett’s Netflix/CBC series Anne with an “E,” as Laura Robinson shows in chapter 12 of this volume, is somewhat fanfictional in and of itself: as Robinson points out, the show fills gaps by bringing to the fore the darker currents that have always been beneath the seemingly untroubled waters of Anne of Green Gables, including Anne’s potential post-traumatic stress disorder from the disturbing life she led before coming to Green Gables. This kind of versioning and adaptation tacitly permits fan authors to feel that their versions are just as valid as those produced by professionals. Gap-fillers frequently expand on romantic pairings and in fandom are often referred to by portmanteaux of characters’ names that perpetuate some inside joke or work as puns. “Shirbert” – a moniker for Anne and Gilbert – is the latter, and demonstrates how fans posting on sites like Archive of Our Own (Ao3), Fanfiction.net, and Wattpad (this last generally populated by younger fans) develop their own language to identify their stories within the community for which they write.

One such story, “You caught me staring, but I caught you staring back,” by Anuka, clearly inspired more by the television series than the novels, begins with an author’s note that reads, “I decided to write some fluff for these two, because I need more Shirbert moments, and season 2 is so far away. I added gifs to make it more vivid.” Here, the romance between Anne and Gilbert as depicted by Montgomery and Walley-Beckett is not sufficient for the reader-turned-writer. Anuka wants the gaps in the narrative to be more fully explored than they are on either page or screen and to be made more “vivid” by the inclusion of images that help make the story come alive.

Similarly, “Rilla Blythe’s Wedding: A Not Entirely Comprehensive Account” by Scylla also fills a gap: Rilla and Ken’s wedding day, a scene that Montgomery leaves to the reader’s imagination at the end of Rilla of Ingleside. Modelled upon other accounts of weddings within Montgomery’s fiction, the story also suggests that accounts of Walter’s death have been gravely exaggerated, as he makes a stunning appearance at his sister’s wedding. In order to align her work with Montgomery’s novel, Scylla ensures that Little Dog Monday’s awareness of Walter’s death remains, but makes it only a technicality, writing, “His heart had stopped for a full ten seconds – long enough for his Captain to feel for his empty pulse and for Dog Monday to be jolted with the fullness of his death. Little dogs, after all, can only have tender dogs’ hearts. Grief to Dog Monday was an all-consuming thing, and when Walter’s heart began to beat once more, he was deaf to its spark of joy.” After meeting with his eldest sister, Joyce, in heaven – which is, as he had always hoped, Rainbow Valley, Walter is returned to life so that he may write of peace as well as war (as he did when he was a boy), marry Una, and repair the broken hearts of readers who did not want to lose him.

While heterosexual pairings are the most prevalent in Montgomery fandom, there is room for queer imaginings as well.

This very popular genre of fanfiction, known as “slash,” is generally defined as stories that centre on samesex romances between characters, particularly between men. Montgomery slash fiction usually stars Walter Blythe.

One slash story, “but i don’t know who you are” by @freyafrida, imagines a bisexual Walter. Told in an enduringly popular sub-genre of fanfiction often referred to as Five Things Plus One (which involves a series of thematically linked but not necessarily chronological scenes), the story is summarized by @freyafrida as “Five people Walter thought he wanted, and one person he didn’t notice until it was too late.”

This last person is original to Montgomery’s text: Una, whose apparently unreturned attraction to Walter is woven through Rilla of Ingleside. The other five potential partners are all alluded to as Walter’s close friends, beginning in childhood with Alice Parker from Anne of Ingleside and Pat Brewster from The Blythes Are Quoted and then carrying on through adolescence and young adulthood with Faith Meredith, Ken Ford, and finally Paul Irving from Anne of Avonlea. While his feelings for Faith and Ken are clearly unrequited, Alice, Pat, and Paul all express their own desire for Walter. The inclusion of the famous poet and Walter’s “model” uncle, Paul Irving, in particular, particular, illustrates how traits of sensitivity and aesthetic appreciation that challenge traditional ideas about masculinity are frequently interpreted as queer by fan readers and writers.

In another slash fiction, cero_ate’s “The Moving Finger Writes, and Having Writ Moves On,” Walter discovers his homosexuality while fighting in Europe:

He wrote half truths and lies once more, when he wrote his Rilla that he could not form poems of the depths of the war. For who could write his sister of the phallic love he had found? He had found his reason in a tow-headed American boy. He meant so much more to Walter than mere friendship could explain. He wanted to write, as sweethearts write, of the tempest of joy in the darkest night. But how would they understand? How would they even try to understand he sought not the Dark Lady of Shakespeare but the youth, fair and Wilde? When he was presented with Una’s faithful heart, he spurned it. When his tow-headed darling presented his own, Walter took it, greedy for him. His grecian style love, the boy who’s [sic] eyes danced, even in the darkest of days. He would do anything to keep him safe. But he could not present him to his family, for their scorn or pity. War had broken him, but made him as well.

While male/male pairings are generally the most popular stories in fandoms, Montgomery’s novels, peopled as they are by communities of girls and women, require that readers who want to queer the text must explore what is called femslash (that is, slash fiction featuring two female characters).

Such relationships have been explored within the academic setting. For instance, Laura Robinson remarks in “Bosom Friends: Lesbian Desire and the Anne Books,” that the relationship between Anne and Diana uses “the language that readers associate with adult romantic love rather than girlhood affections,” even as it is expressed through the heterosexual paradigm of marriage.

One fanfiction author, ArcticLava21, makes it clear that such fan written stories are not speculation but instead address key issues of representation. The author’s note to ArcticLava21’s short Anne/Diana story, “Nature,” reads, “Hello everybody! Hope your [sic] having a wonderful day. Before anyone yells at me for ‘sexualizing platonic friendships’ please note that this is for all those queer kids who grew up pretending. Pretending that he ended up with him instead of her, or desperately wanted representation. Are we good? <3 Enjoy yourselves lovely people.” The intended audience of the story, “queer kids who grew up,” again establishes the transgenerational kinship between Montgomery’s child and adult fans.

All fan fiction, shared on the Internet, exist in dialogue not just with Montgomery’s fiction but with the author herself, and between the fans who read the novels as children and adolescents and the adults that these readers become.

Whether fan writers extend the narrative or fill gaps, transpose chronology or to queer the text, these pieces of fanfiction allow fans not only to insert themselves into the narrative, but also simultaneously to revivify the original novels, published a century ago. In performing interventions to the text, Montgomery’s young fans grow up to reply to the discussions that she began long ago in the pages of her journals and stories, ensuring that all three – author, reader, and text – are continually reborn into a conversation that will never end.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hii! Could I request Astarion's artist s/o (not so) subtly sketching him?

Astarion x Reader

It was very hard to get anything past a vampire with their enhanced hearing. Even as a spawn, Astarion's hearing was 5 times, maybe even 10 times, more sensitive than that of a mortal. So the continued scratching of Tav's pencil plagued him all around camp for days now. Like an insufferable white noise.

Every time they came back to camp, Tav would all but rush to their tent and pick up the pad & pencil. Seeming a creature obsessed with whatever was on the page. For Astarion, it was just more irritation from that constant scratching noise.

“What are you doing?” He finally asked one evening as he came up to Tav.

All their other companions had gone to sleep, so it was just the night stalker and the obsessed. They looked up at him, seeming to realize as well that they were the only ones left awake, and elegantly answered, “hn?”

“What are you doing?” Astarion repeated. Slower this time, in case their obsession had eaten their brain like the worm had; and not for the better. “You have been staring and scratching at that thing for days now. What, pray tell, could be so fascinating?”

Tav seemed to grow shy all of a sudden, an uncharacteristic change, and pulled the pad closer to their chest. “It…It’s nothing.” Now he had to know.

“Come on now. It can’t be nothing.” Astarion replied. Laying on the charm and coating his words in the sweetest honey. “I want to know what’s pulled your attention so eagerly. I thought only I had that effect on you.” Tav scoffed, which was not his desired response, but then handed him the pad. “Oh. A portrait?” He half expected a map or something, detailing their journey. Or something useful. “It’s very good. Who is it?”

“It’s you.”

Astarion turned to Tav with a surprised expression, then looked back at the parchment. “You said you hadn’t seen your face since you turned and lost your reflection. I thought this would help.” Their words reach him but they might as well be lost on the air as he could not hear them.

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. What you see.”

His own words cut through his mind over the ringing in his ears. It had been a gambit at the time. A ploy to get them to say sweet things about him, focus on his attractiveness, to further his goal of safety. But now that he looked at the picture, he suddenly felt…disgusted.

Was this what he looked like? Was this the face that had grown his fangs? Was this the face that led all those souls to their doom? It wasn’t a mirror but looking into the sketched out version of his own eyes, this paper reflection, Astarion suddenly hated this face and all the hurt it had caused.

“Thank you, for showing this to me. But in future, could you not sketch me again?”

Tav looked surprised. “What? Why? I know it’s not very good but I thought—“Just…don’t.” Was all he said. Astarion unable to put into words what seeing his ‘reflection’ truly felt like.

He bid Tav goodnight and went to his own tent to be alone and rest. He doesn’t hear the scratching of their pencil anymore. Just the sound of crumpling paper, and a sharp crack of the fire as new kindling was added to it.

Astarion was suddenly very grateful to not have a reflection. He didn’t want to look himself in the eye right now. He didn’t want to look himself in the eye ever again.

[merlincmgirl]

Domination - Howzer x FReader - NSFW

Summary: You have been teasing him all day, he decides that you're not going to get your own way this time.

Characters: Howzer, some of his men, Eleni, Hera, Cham

Pairing: Howzer x F!Reader

Word Count: 10, 766

Warnings: PinV sex, fingering, dom Howzer, bratting, teasing, very brief spanking, dirty talk, sub space, aftercare

Authour's Note: He's just so pretty, and I just know that he can take a firm hand when needed.

The heat was stifling as the sun beat down on you as you trailed through the markets on Ryloth. It was your first day off in a while and you were browsing the stalls, unsure what you were looking for but you knew something would catch your eye eventually. It did feel strange, your job as a civilian co-ordinator with the GAR, and then the Empire, kept you extremely busy. Especially during the political unrest that was hanging over Ryloth like a potential storm.

From everyone you spoke to, they didn’t understand the continuing presence of the troopers now that the war had ended. They had fought so hard for their independence against the Separatists, and all they wanted was to be able to rule themselves without the presence of clones and outside forces. Cham and Eleni was trying to persuade the Twi’leks to stand down and live in the peace that was hard won. Personally, you didn’t see it ending well, the Empire had been ushered in with the fall of the Jedi and the Republic and everything seemed to have changed overnight. The Empire felt more overbearing and hostile, and if it wasn’t for your friends, your loved ones, you would have left Ryloth and the Empire months ago.

A sharp pain cut through your dark thoughts and you looked down to see one of Hera’s elbows had landed in your stomach as she was racing away from something or someone. You had just enough time to steady her as she stumbled.

“Ohh! Sorry, Ma’am!” Hera apologised, righting herself and throwing a look behind her shoulder.

“Hera! Be more careful” you chided, a small smile on your face as you saw how nervous she looked. “It’s a bit early for you to be getting into trouble, isn’t it?” you remarked, raising an eyebrow at her as you returned to browsing the jewellery on the stall in front of you.

“Trouble? Why would you think that?” Hera frowned, but still tried to side step around you.

Rolling your eyes, you brought her in front of you and shook your head. “Because you look like a tooka that’s about to have a bath. Who did you annoy this time?” you asked, moving just slightly so your body hid hers. If anyone was to come looking for her, then they’d see only you. Glancing at her, you realised she was too easily recognisable and browsed the jackets and shawls that lined the other stall.

“I didn’t do anything! It was Chopper!” Hera complained, crossing her arms in front of her body. It definitely didn’t make her appear as tough as she thought. Especially with her cute little pout.

“What’s that droid done now?” you chuckled, selecting a dark blue shawl and wrapping it around her shoulders. Handing over the money to the blue Twi’lek man running the stall, you helped secure it around her. “Now, that should help you in your escape. But you never told me who’s after you” you reminded pointedly, wrapping an arm around the young girl’s shoulders and leading her to a stall selling a number of holobooks.

“Well, we were just trying to have a bit of fun” Hera huffed, thinking back to the prank that she had pulled.

Unable to help the smile that spread across your face, you wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into your side. “Hera, Chopper’s version of fun is not the same as most people’s” you reminded her, walking through the market with her tucked close to you. Hearing Hera’s giggle, you couldn’t help but feel lighter in her presence. She had such a unique perspective of life that it helped kindle a flicker of hope that everything would work out just as it was meant to be in the end.

“HERA!” a sharp voice cut through the market, and you turned around to see Captain Howzer and a squad of clone troopers heading your way. A number of them was covered in oil, and you could already see how one – Riko if you remembered correctly – was drenched in the stuff from nearly head to toe. So that was what Chopper had done. Probably in an attempt to help Hera get away from whatever mischief she had been causing.

“Ah, Captain, how lovely it is to see you again!” you greeted, stepping in front of her and pushing the young Twi’lek behind you. Hera giggled at seeing the mess and twisted her hands into the jacket.

Howzer and his squad came to a stop and even if you couldn’t see his face, you just knew he would be frowning. “Y/N” he greeted before turning his gaze down and looking at Hera who was hiding behind you. “Hera, we’ve been looking for you” Howzer stated, crossing his arms over his chest and staring her down.

“Hera? She’s been helping me at the market all morning” you frowned, turning to look between the two of them.

“All morning, huh?” he drawled, deep voice sending a pleasant warmth through you. It conjured up memories of that morning, both of you wrapped in blankets. Howzer pressing soft kisses along your shoulders as he chased the sunlight that danced across your skin. “Nice try, I caught her myself setting up the elevator doors to dump pink glitter on whoever walked out” Howzer informed you and you couldn’t help but smile slightly. Girl was clever, if you remembered correctly, Senator Taa’s quarters were on his rounds this morning. She’d probably been trying to get him.

“Pink glitter? That doesn’t sound like Hera” you scoffed, shaking your head and stepping closer to him. Looking behind him at the squad, you noticed a few did indeed have some specks of glitter dotted around their armour.

“Where would I even get that from?” Hera added, rubbing the back of her neck and trying to appear convincing.

“Over there, perhaps?” Dunk suggested, pointed over to a stall that sold crafts supplies, as well as a number of different dyes. The trooper in question had an oil stain splashed across his chest plate, but seemed to have missed the full force of Chopper’s hit.

You all turned to look at the stall and you sighed heavily. “Children! Am I right, Captain? I’m sure Hera didn’t mean to play a prank like that. It’s her way to express herself and explore boundaries” you shrugged, motioning for Hera to run for it when she could.

Howzer removed his helmet, resting it on his hip as he frowned down at you. “Dumping a load of pink glitter on Senator Taa’s head is not expressing herself and exploring boundaries, Y/N. She shouldn’t be sneaking into government facilities to set up pranks. If Taa had found out, Cham and Eleni wouldn’t hear the end of it. There’s only so much I can do to protect her when things like this happen” Howzer reminded, brow furrowing and a look of worry passed his face. He liked the Syndulla family, they had been nothing but kind, noble and loyal since he had joined them fighting for Ryloth during the occupation. He didn’t want them to be caught up in this unrest that was building.

“Captain, you worry too much. I’m sure it’s not the worst thing Taa has been covered in” you grimaced, before turning your attention to his troopers. “Besides, looks like they got hit by something other than glitter” you pointed out, admiring the chaos that Hera and Chopper had created.

“Where is your friend?” Howzer grunted, turning to Hera just as she was about to slip away from the conversation.

“I don’t know, he said that he had to help mother with some of her work” Hera shrugged, lips tilting down into a confused frown.

“What on earth could that droid have done now, Captain?” you wondered, nudging him with your elbow to bring his attention away from the girl.

“He shot oil at us when we stopped them both. Got us all good while Hera managed to escape. We were hoping to catch the pair of them” Riko explained, looking down at himself at all the oil that was covering him.

You smiled up at Howzer, playful intent in your eyes and you knew he recognised it because his jaw clenched slightly.

“Looks to me like Chopper covered you in all that oil, Riko. I don’t think I can see any of that lovely blue at all. Maybe you need to get all that armour off and hit the showers” you suggested, looking up and down the clone trooper. Even with his helmet on, you saw how embarrassed he was at your attention. He looked around at his fellow troopers and his fingers twitched on his blaster before he seemed to straighten himself up.

“Thank you ma’am, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing when we finish the patrol” Riko confirmed, nodding his head to you.

Trying to hide the smirk on your face, you turned back to Captain Howzer, a surprised look on your face. He wasn’t going to fall for it, the amusement underlying your expression was enough to give you away. You were toying with him and enjoying it.

“I’m sure Captain Howzer wouldn’t mind you cleaning up. My place isn’t too far away from here, if you’d prefer, instead of traipsing to the barracks. I’m sure the Captain could spare you for 10 minutes while you showered, couldn’t you Captain?” you asked, smiling serenely at the scarred clone who only huffed.

“No” he replied shortly, making your insides twist in victory at the small slip of composure he normally held when you talked in front of his men. “Thank you for the kind offer ma’am, but we really must be going. It seems Hera has managed to slip away whilst we were talking” Howzer said stiffly, looking behind you where Hera had been a few minutes ago.

Chuckling lightly, you shrugged your shoulders and winked at his troopers.

“Well, she’s a smart girl, she must have seized the opportunity.”

“No doubt.”

“Enjoy the rest of your patrol, Captain!” you called after him, as he shoved his helmet onto his head and lead his men past you. A few sent glances your way and you couldn’t help but wave at them in return. You knew that Howzer would catch the move and get even more annoyed with you.

----------TBB-HOWZER-TBB----------

The night was cool on the arid planet as Howzer walked the corridors to the small gathering that the Syndullas had arranged. This would be his last post of the day before he returned to the barracks with the rest of his men. Or if his cyare was willing, return to her loving arms.

Although he wondered if she would still be in a teasing mood. All day whenever their paths crossed, she would flirt with him, bat her pretty eyelashes at his men, making more than a few stumble or stutter in response. A couple had even returned the flirting good naturedly before giving her a nod and returning to their own responsibilities.

Shaking his head, he couldn’t help the chuckle that worked it’s way up his throat. She had been nothing but full of mischief recently. He knew it was a coping mechanism, a way to deal with the increasing tension on Ryloth. It was all in good fun and it wasn’t anything serious. If anything he loved to see her smile, hear her laugh as she met his eyes and saw the reaction she wanted.

“Ah, Captain! I didn’t think you would be joining us” Eleni greeted, a glass of something in her hand. She wore a pleasant and genuine smile when she saw him. “Would you like a drink?” she offered, nodding over to the drinks table to the side of the room.

“Thanks, but I’m on duty ma’am” Howzer nodded, smiling politely at his friend.

“Ah, you would leave us to the dreary boasts of Senator Taa then?” Eleni teased, raising a perfect eyebrow at him, a smile playing on her lips.

“You do it so much better than me, Eleni. I wasn’t made for politics” Howzer reminded, looking around him at the many, many people schmoozing up to Taa and his people. He felt much more comfortable on a battlefield than attending one of these parties, where political games were played between false compliments and thinly veiled threats.

“That may be so, but it doesn’t make it any more enjoyable. We will speak soon, Captain. I must go rescue Cham, he’s giving me his signal” Eleni chuckled, bidding him farewell before heading over to Cham.

Howzer secured his helmet onto his head and took his position around the perimeter of the room. From where he stood, he had a good line of sight on the door and most of the room. He just hoped that whatever support the Syndullas could drum up for the peaceful unification of their planet, they would do so without many more of these things.

Checking in with his men, glad to hear that they reported the all clear, he settled in for a long night.

That was until he spotted a beautiful woman talking to Cham and Eleni over by the exit to the balcony. He almost swallowed his tongue at seeing the dress his cyare was wearing. It was a lovely red dress, clinging to all the places that she loved the most. A split up the side showed a flash of her thigh and the cut was just enough to show a slight hint of the swell of her breasts. He could feel his codpiece become a lot tighter as he watched his cyare laugh at something that Cham said. She was absolutely beautiful and mesmerising.

“You’re looking beautiful tonight, my dear. Any special reason?” Eleni asked, watching as your eyes kept drifting over to the position where the Captain was on watch. She knew about your relationship, had been the one encouraging it even but she knew that the pair of you must be kept a secret from the Empire. You made a wonderful couple, and she was pleased that both of her friends had found some happiness during this time.

“Apart from your wonderful party? No reason” you chuckled, picking at the delicious fruits that was on offer.

“Has your Captain figured out your plan for this evening?” she wondered, smiling politely at Taa as he passed.

“I think he’s got some idea of what’s going on” you smirked, glancing over your shoulder at him. Even though his bucket was facing forward, you could feel the warm, heavy gaze of Howzer on you. Sliding your hand down your side, you carefully flicked your skirt, flashing him a bit more of your leg in a seemingly innocent move to readjust your clothes.

From your spot next to Eleni, you could see Howzer straighten up and his hands twitch into a fist before they calmed. You couldn’t help but giggle, enjoying teasing your trooper and watching him squirm, trying to keep a straight face in front of his men.

“I’m going to work the room, I’ll see you later” you murmured, sending her a wink before sliding over to the other side of the room. You noticed a shiny standing just opposite where Howzer was standing. Perfect for him to get a good view of the show you hoped to put on for him.

“Oh, hello there! I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Y/N, I’m a civilian co-ordinator here on Ryloth. What’s your name?” you greeted, smiling warmly at the young trooper in front of you.

“Uh… CT-9818, ma’am” the shiny stumbled over his words, surprised to even be approached, never mind addressed. He wondered why a nat-born, a nat-born woman at that, would even be talking to him.

You couldn’t help but scrunch up your nose at that, shaking your head at the way that these men weren’t even treated like normal human beings. Running a hand through your hair, you tried to put a softer smile on your face. “That’s not much of a name, trooper. I’m not one of these nat-borns who believe all you are is a number. What do your brothers call you?” you said, hoping he didn’t think you were prying. You really was genuinely interested in meeting the new trooper.

“It’s erm… Mince… ma’am. My brothers call me Mince” the trooper admitted, and you nodded encouragingly.

“It’s nice to meet you Mince. Were you transferred to Captain Howzer’s unit? Or have you just been hiding?” you inquired, raising an eyebrow teasingly at him. Looking back, you could see Howzer’s bucket tilt towards you.

“Course not, ma’am. I was er… transferred after the creation of the Empire. We were one of the last squads off Kamino” he hurried to explain, straightening up at hearing the teasing voices of his vod come through his internal comm.

He really was a brand new shiny then, straight from Kamino by the sounds of it. Had he been there during the fall of Kamino City? Was he evacuated before the devastation that saw the troopers lose their home? Although you knew that Kamino wasn’t home to many of the vode. It was a place of heartbreak, torture and nightmares for many clones. But it was where they were decanted, where they grew up with their brothers and formed the bond of vode an.

“I was only joking, I’m sure Captain Howzer feels that you are a credit to his unit” you assured, resting a hand on his shoulder. “How are you enjoying Ryloth, Mince?” you asked him politely, tilting your head as you listened to him talk. Every so often you would shift slightly, sticking your hip out and angling your leg so that the folds of your dress draped over your thigh.

On one occasion, you burst out into laughter as Mince told you a story of how his vod, Lapse had been on patrol before he was pounced on by an overly affectionate blurrg. Resting a hand on his chest, you shook your head as you tried to control your giggles. “I can just imagine his face! Next time I see him, I’m not letting him live this down. I hope he offered to buy the blurrg dinner” you chuckled, trying to lower your voice as several people looked over at you both.

Taking the opportunity, you looked towards your Captain, sending him a wink you knew he would catch. Noticing how he puffed out his chest and purposefully looked away, you tried to hold in the snort of amusement at his obvious move. You had gotten to him. Crossing your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts up slightly, you heard a thud from Howzer’s direction but didn’t turn around to look. Already in your mind, you could picture your Captain losing his parade’s rest and falling back against the wall behind him.

“Looks like Mince has bitten off more than he can chew, right Captain?” came the voice through his bucket. He glanced across the room to where Mince was positioned, spotting you standing close to him and talking to him quietly. He could see the mischief that was filling your eyes as you looked up and caught sight of him. Damn you! He knew you were making it hard for him on purpose. What he wouldn’t give just to sweep you into his arms, be the one you spoke to all night, be allowed to whisper all the sweet words he had to keep to himself into your skin as he worked his way down your body.

“Do you think someone should go rescue him?” Soni murmured in awe, watching the way your dress fell around you.

Howzer clenched his jaw.

“Why would he need rescuing?” Blaze scoffed, amused at how his younger brother was becoming flustered from talking to the pretty civilian officer that worked as a go between for the Empire and the Twi’leks resistance.

His eye twitched.

“From the Captain or her?” Suture, his medic, drawled. And if Howzer could, he’d shoot the medic a glare that would put him in the medbay. But he was wise enough to know not to piss off the medics, and that Suture was more than likely entertained at having to watch him sweat while his cyare was teasing him.

“Kriff, Mince! Your heart is going so fast I’d think you were running drills!” Drax chuckled, hearing the returning splutter from Mince. Thankfully it wasn’t picked up by his voice recorder!

Now that was an idea! Send his men to run drills every time they so much as looked in your direction. Especially while you were wearing something like this. He could just imagine how his brothers were enjoying the sight of seeing his cyare outside of uniform.

When you turned to send him a wink, he let out a small growl that was thankfully not picked up by his bucket. His little tease. You were enjoying this, he realised. A lot. Too much even, if that mischievous spark in your eye was any indication. He loved seeing you like this, so full of joy and happiness. He felt himself twitch behind his codpiece at your actions. Kriff, how could you make him hard so quickly, just by flashing that teasing look and a bit of leg. A beautiful, leg at that. He could remember how they felt wrapped around his waist this morning. He couldn’t wait until he could drag you back into bed.

Kriff!

He was so done for. What did Hera like to say to him? That was it! Head over heels in love with his pretty little civvie. She was right. As usual. He did love her, more than anything. And that was why he wasn’t reacting. She wanted to tease him, wind him up into a tight ball of tension and lust before he finally reacted. Well, that was the exact opposite of what he was going to do. His pretty little civvie couldn’t always get what she wanted.

“-zer? Captain Howzer?” a familiar voice called from his side.

He blinked, swiftly turning around to find Cham and Eleni addressing him. He gave them a formal salute before nodding at them respectfully.

“Is everything alright, Captain? You seemed a little distracted” Eleni inquired slyly, raising an eyebrow at him.

Once again Howzer was thankful for his bucket, it hid the blush that was rapidly growing on his face. “Yes ma’am, I was… er listening… to the, er, check ins?” he replied, wanting to kick himself at how unsure he sounded.

Cham shot a pointed look at his wife and smiled. “Forgive us for disturbing you then, Captain. We were just inquiring about how you are this evening? Enjoying the party?” Cham asked, struggling to hide his amusement at the enamoured Captain. He hadn’t missed the looks between the two, it reminded him of Eleni and himself.

“Oh, yes sir. It’s riveting” Howzer drawled, relaxing a little in their company. They were hardly going to report him for complaining about guard duty for an intolerable Senator and his entourage.

“Another hour to go, Captain, and then we’ll be free. Hopefully Hera will be in bed by the time we return home. She was disappointed that she wouldn’t be attending tonight” Eleni chuckled, leaning into Cham and rolling her eyes.

“Couldn’t prank anyone else?” Howzer snorted, shaking his head at the young Twi’lek. It was a joy to have Hera around, she was always making things interesting for him and keeping him on his toes. It helped that she seemed to always drag his cyare in tow.

“Not tonight, no” Cham sighed, although there was amusement and mischief in his eyes. “We can’t apologise enough for this morning Captain. Her and Chopper have been appropriately punished. Did your squad manage to get the glitter and oil off?” Cham wondered, glancing at the few troopers surrounding the perimeters.

“Just about, although Riko wasn’t too pleased to find glitter in his air filters. He keeps puffing out glitter every so often” Howzer admitted, lips pulling into an amused smile that, although hidden by his bucket, was clear in his voice.

Eleni and Cham couldn’t hide their laughter, already imagining the clone troopers colourful curses when that happened. She was the daughter of rebels for a reason.

Their conversation was interrupted when you walked towards them, a wide smile on your face seeing them all together and happy. But you were beginning to feel tired and all you wanted was for your trooper to hold you in his arms.

“Cham, Eleni, I’m really sorry but I might head home-” you called to them, noticing how Howzer was closer to you than your friends. Having an idea on how to get you both out of this, you surveyed the ground in front of you. It was just the right material. Making sure you looked slightly dazed, you allowed the toe of your heel to catch on the floor and you stumbled. As expected, Howzer quickly stepped forward to catch you, arms wrapping around your waist and holding you to him. You would have been able to feel his warm breath fanning across your face if his helmet was off.

“Ohh! I’m so sorry Captain!” you hurried to apologise, feeling how one hand kept an arm around your waist to keep you steady, the other holding your hand and squeezing it.

“It’s fine, are you okay?” he frowned, scanning your form to see if you were injured in anyway.

“My dear, are you alright?” Eleni asked at the same time, a teasing look in her eye as she looked you over. She hadn’t missed the flush in your cheeks as Howzer pressed you against his armoured body.

“I’ll be fine, thank you, I’m just not feeling too good at the moment. I’m going to try and have an early night” you told them, still not stepping out of Howzer’s hold. You would let him play the role of the caring knight in shiny armour if it meant you could have him touch you in public.

Cham nodded, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Of course! You’re looking a little flushed, my friend” Cham noted, feigning concern. He had spotted the devious look that spread across your face as you walked over, he had seen it many times on Hera’s face to know a ploy was afoot when he saw it.

Turning to the Captain, who was still holding you close, he clapped him on the shoulder. “Captain, would you be able to escort our friend home?” Cham requested, looking at him hopefully.

“Err… I’m still on duty” Howzer reminded, looking between you and the resistance fighters. Why did he feel like he was being lured into a trap? Had you planned this whole night out with Cham and Eleni? Were they your accomplices? He shouldn’t even be surprised.

“Please Captain, I’m sure your squad can manage until the end of the party” Eleni pleaded, gripping onto your hand. When Howzer looked back at his men, obviously reporting the issue with them, she sent you a wink and you had to smother the smile that was trying to break across your face.

“Oh no, I couldn’t do that. I’m sure Captain Howzer is needed here more than I need him” you protested, shaking your head. You felt his hand tighten on your hip, and could feel his warning look even through his helmet. Perhaps that one had been less than subtle.

“No, you need him more. I insist! I would hate for anything to happen to you on your walk back” Eleni nodded, rubbing your arm soothingly. You would have to compliment her on her acting skills. If anyone was looking in, they would be convinced that she held genuine concern for you.

“Would you walk me home, Captain?” you asked him quietly, biting your lip and looking at him hopefully.

“Of course. It would be my pleasure” he rumbled, allowing you to say your goodbyes while he passed command to his second. Blaze would be able to handle the rest of the posting until the shift finished. If anything happened, Blaze would comm him.

As you left the room where the gathering was being held, you straightened up and leaned into him more. It felt good to have this moment alone with him. Your time together was sporadic, depending on his work shifts and yours, and whether he could sneak out of the barracks to your room.

“I think we’re alone now, Captain. Take it off.”

Howzer couldn’t help but roll his eyes, but quickly gave in, taking off his bucket and attaching it to his belt. “Better?” he asked you, watching as your eyes roamed his face, a blush working it’s way across your cheeks.

You couldn’t help it, just the sight of his beautiful face was enough for you to feel warm. The way he looked at you, big brown eyes full of love and adoration had your stomach doing somersaults. His scarred chin and cheek just added to his ruggish look. “Much better” you breathed, seeing his features soften slightly at your answer.

Instead of answering, he offered you his arm to continue escorting you back home.

“Thank you for walking me home, Captain” you smiled, hooking your arm with his. “I think I enjoyed too much wine tonight” you told him, leaning into his warmth. Even with his armour on, you admired the strength of his muscle underneath your hand.

“You certainly seemed to be having fun” he commented, enjoying the way your hand fit into the crook of his elbow. One of the few spots in which he could feel you through the gap in the plastoid. “How are you feeling now?” he asked, checking you over once more in case you really were feeling ill. He was confident you had been teasing him, but it was better to check.

“I’m okay, just these stupid shoes. They’re beginning to pinch” you winced, eager to kick them off.

“I might be able to help with that” he murmured, lip quirking into a smirk before he shoved you into a secluded turn off the corridor you were walking down.

“Howzer!” you gasped, steadying yourself against the wall. You listened to see if anyone had seen him, hearing nothing, you scowled at your trooper. “A bit of warning would have been nice” you reminded, raising an eyebrow.

“It pays not to give your enemy forewarning” Howzer replied, before dropping to his knees right in front of you. His knee plates clattered against the metal vents on the floor and he carefully took off his gloves, tucking them into his belt. Looking up at you with darkened eyes, he couldn’t help but let out a little groan. You looked beautiful.

“I… uh… I didn’t think we were enemies” you breathed, thoughts becoming a little harder to hold onto as he slowly pulled away your skirt, revealing the shape of your legs to him. You loved when he took his gloves off slowly, already imagining the feel of his calloused hands running across your skin. He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your knee before placing another slightly higher.

“We aren’t. This dress you’re wearing however, is keeping me from what I really want” he groaned, sliding his hands up your thighs, reaching the line of your underwear. Teasingly, he ran his fingers under the hem, threatening to pull them down.

“Howzer… people… they co-could see” you panted, running your hand through his hair and tugging him closer to you. His huffed breath fluttered against your core and you wanted him to stop teasing you and finally give in.

“Didn’t think you’d mind, cyare. After the way you’ve been behaving all day, thought you’d like them to see how good you look like this” he drawled, grazing his teeth across the meat of your thighs.

“Only teasing baby” you huffed, rocking forward into him but he just pulled away.

“I’m not going to fuck you here” Howzer told you, making your heart sink in disappointment. You really wanted to feel him, enjoy the result of your teasing. But it seemed the Captain had other plans. “Besides, we need to get these off you cyar’ika. Get you feeling comfy” he smirked, pulling your shoes off you and attaching them to his belt.

Unable to help it, you gaped at him, not even aware that he had been fiddling with your shoes enough to loosen them off your feet. Sneaky little womp rat!

“Come on, get moving” he instructed, pushing himself back up onto his feet.

You pouted, unable to help it as you tilted your head up to his. “Not even a kiss?” you whined, trying to entice him to give in.

“You want a kiss, mesh’la?” he whispered, stepping closer to you until your back was pressed against the wall once more. His armour was cool against you, the feeling seeping through your dress and making you gasp. Feeling a bit dizzy at him, you nodded.

“Alright I’ll give you a kiss” he growled, hand coming up to grip your jaw in a tight hold before he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was rough, catching you off guard and Howzer used it to his advantage as his tongue swept into your mouth, running along your own. As you moaned against him, hips coming up to buck against his, he pulled away. The kiss over just as quickly as it began.

Your breaths came out in pants as you blinked up at him in shock, thoughts getting hazy. “Now get moving” he instructed, tugging you forward and landing a hard smack on your ass as you passed him.

You yelped, heat rushing through you at that. It seemed that you had pushed your Captain too far with your teasing and he was preparing to do his own. Rubbing your ass cheek, you led the way back to your apartment, glad that nobody was in the corridors. You didn’t think you would be able to hide the blush spread over your face and the slight dazed look.

Just as soon as you had shut the door behind you, Howzer was pressing you back against the metal door, his armour sending a chill racing down your spine as your nipples hardened beneath the material of your dress. You liked the way he pinned you against the door, dark eyes focused on yours.

“You’ve done enough teasing for one day, so you’re going to listen for once, cyare” he told you firmly, one hand sliding up your neck to grip it. It wasn’t a particularly tight hold, just enough to ensure that you were paying attention to him. “You’re going to get rid of this gorgeous dress and everything underneath, mesh’la, and I want you to sit on the chair facing me. Then you’re going to spread your pretty legs open so I can see just how wet you are” he instructed, leaving no room for any protest. All you could do was nod at his words. He smiled, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before turning and heading into your living room.

Sagging against the door, you let out a sigh, feeling how arousal was already pooling into your underwear. Fuck, he was so hot, your plan to push his control to the edge had worked. If your teasing had caused all this… well, it certainly wasn’t going to put you off from doing it again.

Knowing you couldn’t keep him waiting long, you slid the dress slowly from your shoulders, letting it pool down onto your hips before letting it drop to the floor. Howzer had wanted you naked before you sat on display for him, and you weren’t going to disobey him now. Following after him, you reached up to undo your chest band, leaving it on until you were in his sight again.

Howzer had taken off his armour, placing it in it’s spot in your apartment. At the moment, he was dressed in just the bottom half of his blacks. Already you could see the bulge that was pressed against the tight material.

Unable to help it, you couldn’t stop your eyes running over his broad, tanned, thick body. There was a scattering of paler scars along his neck and shoulder, similar to the one on his cheek and chin. You already knew the path of them by heart, after stroking each one and pressing soft kisses to the scarred tissue. He kept himself in peak physical condition, his training from Kamino still drilled into him, even after the war was over. The way his bronzed skin stretched over his sculpted muscles had you almost drooling over how gorgeous and handsome your Captain was.

“As much as I like you staring at me, mesh’la. I want to see you more” his deep voice cut through your thoughts.

Blushing slightly at how distracted you were, you released your hold on the chest band, letting it drop to the floor in front of you. A hitch in Howzer’s breath beside you had you grinning, enjoying the way he loved looking at your body. Running your hands over your breasts, groaning at the relief of being out of the chest band, you knew he would be feeling his blacks become more and more restricting.

As you headed over to your chair, the caf table in between yours and his, you hooked your fingers into the hem of your panties. Turning around, you bent over, giving him a show as you slid them over your ass and down your thighs, letting them fall to the floor and exposing your soaked core to his eyes already. A muffled curse from him had you smirking, before turning back around and sitting down in the chair he had told you to. Raising an eyebrow at him, you waited to see what he would do.

“Thought I told you to spread your pretty legs for me. If you can’t listen to simple instructions, tonight isn’t going to turn out very well for you” he warned, voice controlled and level as he kept his heavy gaze on you. Although you could see his jaw tightening at your little display. He wasn’t as unaffected as he appeared to be.

“Sorry Captain” you demurred, biting your lip and knowing you were teasing him even further.

Running your hands up from your knees and over your thighs, you slowly spread your legs, revealing your glistening core to him. The way his gaze felt had you wanting to close your eyes and whimper, the intense stare making you feel like he wanted to devour you. You wouldn’t mind, you wanted to feel him lose control with you and just take what he wanted.

“Feet on the table, spread them wider” he ordered, dark chocolate brown eyes darkening even further at the way the low lights in the room caught the slick that was pooling at your entrance.

Perching the soles of your feet on the table’s edge, you gasped as you spread your legs even wider, giving your Captain a better look at how much he was affecting you. You already wanted to reach down, press a desperate brush of fingers against your slit but you refrained, Howzer hadn’t told you to do anything else. And you didn’t want him punishing you by keeping you on the edge, over and over again. No, it was in your best interests to do exactly what Howzer said.

“Good girl, you can behave” he smirked, watching as your thighs quivered at his words. “Look how pretty you look, cyar’ika. Did you get this wet just from talking to my brother?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you challengingly.

Biting your lip to hold in the sound that was dying to come out, you shook your head.

“No? Who got you this wet then? Who made this pussy leak so much?” he drawled, leaning forward now, elbow on his knees to get a closer look at you.

Unable to help it, you preened at the knowledge that he was just as desperate to be close to you as you were for him. If he hadn’t had instructed you to stay there, you’d be the one dragging him over the table and attaching your lips to his.

A rap of his knuckles against the wood brought your attention back to him. “I asked you a question, sweetheart. Do I need to repeat myself?” he asked, jaw tightening as he ran his eyes up over your heaving chest and to your swollen bottom lip trapped in between your teeth. When you released it from your grasp, he had to catch the groan he wanted to let out at how pink and swollen it was. He could just imagine those lips around his cock as you took him in his mouth.

“No Captain, I’m sorry. You’re the only one who makes me this wet” you breathed, trying to spread your legs even further for his eyes.

Howzer hummed, pleased with your answer but still not giving you the orders that you so desperately wanted. It was maddening to be so exposed and not touch yourself or have him touch you. He noticed your hands clenching tightly on the arms of the chair, fingers curled so tight your knuckles were white. Howzer wanted nothing more than to touch you, but he couldn’t forget he had been half hard for most of the day just because of your teasing.

“You’ve been teasing me all day sweetheart. Why is that?” he wondered, running his eyes up your shapely legs and towards your leaking centre. He could just imagine you spread out, his head between your legs devouring your glistening cunt, it was making it harder and harder to focus.

“Wanted you to snap… make you lose control and… and touch me. Please Captain” you groaned, hips rocking enticingly to hopefully spur him on. If he wouldn’t do anything, then you’d have to take matters into your own hands.

Chuckling at how mischievous his cyare was, he shook his head at you. “How’s that working out for you, mesh’la?” he teased, sending you a lazy smirk that had your breath catching in your throat. Fuck he was so handsome like this. All happiness and desire was clear to see in his eyes, the stress and worries of the Empire laid down for once.

“Howzer!” you whined, brattiness coming out before you could stop it.

“That’s not how you address me, cyar’ika” he frowned, voice losing the teasing tone and full of authority once more. It was the one he used when speaking to shinies who were still trying to find their place in the squad.

“Please Captain, I need you to touch me” you moaned, biting your lip and hoping he’d give in to you. The strain in his blacks was already noticeable from where you were spread out for him. There was no way that he would be able to last much longer without touching you, or you touching him. Kriff! All you wanted to do was palm his hardened length underneath those blacks, feel him throb in your hand as you mouthed around him. The thought had your legs quivering and your cunt clenching as more arousal slipped out of you.

Of course, Howzer’s keen eyes caught it, and the dirty chuckle he let out didn’t help the feeling of heat bursting through you. “Oh no, sweetheart, you forgot our rules didn’t you? The ones which make sure we’re safe and able to keep having these moments. Wouldn’t want anyone telling Rampart or Taa about us, would we?” he chided gently, sliding his hands up his thighs just to relieve some of the tension that was curling in the pit of his stomach. “So this is a punishment. I’m not going to touch you until I’m ready to” he told you, delighting at the way your mouth parted on a small gasp of surprise.

He couldn’t be serious, could he? Howzer always touched you when you were alone together, even if it was just the brush of a hand against the small of your back as he moved past you, or the soft squeeze of your shoulder as he went to make dinner. His touch was something you always enjoyed and looked forward to, even outside of your bedroom.

“Your little clit looks so desperate for attention, cyar’ika. I can see how much it needs to be touched. Why don’t you use your pretty little fingers and give it what it wants?” he suggested, fingers twitching at his own words. He wanted to be the one to rub your bud, but he couldn’t. Not yet. He still had to punish you for your teasing.

Sighing, you finally brushed the pads of your fingers against your clit, the light touch sending sparks up your spine. Unable to help the little moan of relief, you collected your slick and used it to play with your clit, rubbing it in little circles that had your eyes slipping shut. After so long teasing him, you had become just as worked up as the Captain. It felt so good to finally be able to relieve some of the pressure that had been building.

Howzer couldn’t take his eyes off you. You looked so perfect, so breath taking in this moment that he never wanted to forget the sight of you like this. Your thighs tightening in pleasure as you worked your swollen bud of nerves, breasts heaving with every laboured breath and your eyes shut, lust and desire written all over your face.

The cool night air fluttered against your skin, causing goosebumps to spring up. It was such a contrast to how you were feeling, it felt like you were overheating, as though Howzer’s simple words and heavy gaze was lighting a fire inside of you. One of your hands reached up, ready to tease and pull at your pebbled nipples but you hastily stopped, remembering that your Captain hadn’t given you any instructions on touching yourself there.

“Go ahead, cyar’ika, I want you to touch those cute little nipples. Wish I could run my tongue over them and tease them until you ache” he ordered, groaning at the thought of taking the buds into his mouth and lathing them with attention from his warm mouth and talented fingers.

“You can! Please, I want you to” you encouraged, rolling your hips against the fingers against your clit. The other hand slid up your torso until you could pinch and squeeze at your breast before pulling at your nipple. It sent a zap of pleasure down to your core, more arousal coating your fingers to aid in your touch.

It felt like you were dripping and leaking onto the chair beneath you from how wet you were. And he still refused to touch you. Gritting your teeth at the slow building pleasure that was forming in your core, you couldn’t help but want more. More of Howzer, more of his talented calloused fingers pushing you over the edge.

“Mesh’la” he breathed, feeling desire wash over him as he watched you follow his instruction and drive yourself closer and closer to the edge but have no way of reaching your release. “Use your fingers, want to see them inside of you cyare” he told you, voice strained as he drunk in the sight of you. His cock was throbbing in his blacks, and he ached to relieve the pressure just slightly. Cupping himself through his blacks, he let out a small groan that seemed to set alight the tease that was buried inside of you.

“That’s it Captain, I could make you feel so good” you grinned, watching as he palmed himself through his trousers. Sliding a finger inside of your dripping core had your eyes sliding shut for a second before you pushed them back open.

The sight of Howzer touching himself, desperate for some relief from the pressure building underneath them was something you didn’t want to miss at all. He looked so beautiful, eyes half lidded in pleasure as his head was tilted up just slightly. The gorgeous full lips of his was hanging open slightly, small panting breaths escaping as he lost a part of that control he prided himself over.

Gulping at the feeling of a second finger sliding into you, you couldn’t wait to feel him inside of you, to taste him on your tongue, to feel his strong body pressed against you. “Oh, I could taste you, have my mouth around your cock instead, bet it would feel better than your hands. OH!” you cried, crooking your fingers to press against the spongy patch in your walls, fire spreading across your body as you worked yourself closer and closer to the edge.

Howzer groaned loudly, biting his own lip to stop him from just pulling you onto his cock. You had a way of making him lose control of himself, and hearing your soft cries and teasing words were making it harder and harder to focus. Just the thought of your warm mouth surrounding his length, swallowing him down to the hilt had him near the edge of his own relief, but he refused to cum without making you cum first.

“You’re in no position to tease, cyar’ika. You’ll get there when I allow it. Keep touching yourself, slowly” he ordered, wrestling with his control at your words.

As you pinched your nipple sharply, and slowly pushed another finger in, you could feel your orgasm building and building, getting so close you could almost touch it. “Fuck! Sir, I’m so close!” you whined, rolling your hips against the fingers that were inside of you and arching your chest up into the air, desperate for him to touch you and help finish you off.

“See it’s so much better when you listen to me and follow the rules, isn’t it?” he growled out.

“Yes! Yes it is! Kriff, Captain, please!” you gasped, feeling your stomach tighten and warmth flood through you as you hurriedly slid your hand from your breast down to rub at your clit.

Just as soon as your fingers lightly brushed your bundle of nerves, a vice like grip circled your wrists and pulled them both away from your needy body. Gasping, your eyes met his amused ones as you felt furious at him for denying you your own release. He had snapped forward to stop you just as soon as he noticed you were about to go over the edge.

“HOWZER!” you spat out, unable to believe he would stop you when you were so close.

“I don’t think so, cyare. You’ve been teasing me all day, flirting with my men and wearing that pretty dress. You’re not getting off that easily” he shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw a pout forming on yours.

“Evidently!” you grumbled, noticing he still hadn’t let go of your wrists.

Chuckling at your indignation, he leant further across the table separating you and pulled your hand up to him. “Hmm, you smell so good. I know you taste it too” he murmured, before wrapping his lips around the fingers that had been inside of you. His talented tongue gently collected the slick on your fingers as he sucked them into his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed as the taste of you burst across his tongue. This! This was what he had been thinking of all day. The unique taste of you on his tongue and the way you sounded lost in your own lust.

Whimpering at the feeling of him sucking your own arousal from your fingers, you ran your hand up and down his arm, feeling the heat radiating from him. When your Captain grazed the pads of your fingers with his teeth, you couldn’t help but curl your fingers around his own and hold on tight to him.

“Hmm, you taste wonderful, mesh’la. But I really, really want to be inside of you” he murmured, leaning forward to press kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Sucking slightly on the spot beneath your ear, you couldn’t help but give in. You’d forgive him for stopping you earlier if he was going to make up for it. “Can I? Can I feel you wrapped around my cock?” he asked, grazing the darkening skin with his teeth before moving on to add another further down.

“Since when have I said no?” you breathed, tilting your head slightly so he could have more room.

“Never hurts to ask” he smiled, lips curling against your throat. He chuckled lightly at your nod of consent before pulling you onto your feet. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he held you against him as he teasingly pressed his lips against yours, lightly running his tongue over yours before pulling away. He looked around him for something before grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch and spreading it over the table.

“Lie down” he instructed, reaching for a pillow to support your head against the hard surface. It wasn’t the most comfortable of places, but it seemed that he didn’t want to move any further than he had to.

Pulling back to look at you, he couldn’t help but look at you in awe. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am that you want me” he breathed, almost shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’m the lucky one, trooper! Now are you going to come here so I can show you how lucky I am? Or do I have to come get you myself?” you teased, smiling up at him. His cheeks heated up at your words and he couldn’t help but think you looked stunning with the happiness that radiated from your smile.

“Brat” he huffed, quickly unfastening his trousers and pushing them down his thick thighs. Smirking at your stare as his thick cock sprung up against him, he kicked them off and turned back to you. He was already leaking pre-cum and he took a hold of his cock, spreading it up and down before pressing his body into yours. He felt the way your nipples brushed against the spattering of dark hair on his chest, how your skin had started to glisten with a thin sheet of sweat as you had worked yourself up. Pushing your thighs wider apart to accommodate his hips, he could feel just how wet you were as he brushed his cock between your folds.

You couldn’t help but whine at the feel of him rubbing between your soaked lips. The orgasm that had lessened off was building once more just at the feel of him pressing his body into yours. His body was all sharp angles and hard muscles compared to your soft curves, and it was just intoxicating having him like this. You ran your fingers through his dark hair, before tugging him up from where he was sucking marks on your shoulders to kiss him. The taste of you was still on his tongue and a groan escaped you at the taste of you both mixing together.

Pulling away, he kissed down to your chest, finally taking one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth and lathing it with attention, just like he had wanted to. He greedily ran his tongue over your nub, sucking harshly and making you cry out, pulling once more at his hair. However he didn’t stop, continuing to tease and suck bruises onto your mounds while his other hand pinched and pulled at it’s twin.

“Kriff! You feel so good, don’t stop!” you begged, closing your eyes and losing yourself to the sensation that he was building inside of you.

However just as soon as the words left your mouth, Howzer was pulling away, smug look already plastered on his face. It was all you could do not to curse at him.

“Not nice to tease, is it mesh’la?” he reminded, pressing a kiss to your chin. You could hear the amusement in his voice, never mind seeing it in his beautiful honey brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, now fuck me!” you demanded, bucking your hips up to his. It sent a burst of pleasure as his cock brushed against your clit.

It was soon over as Howzer landed a sharp swat to the outside of your thigh. “Ah! You lost your manners as well, mesh’la? That’s not how we ask for something we want” he growled, voice hardening and scowling down at you.

Realising that he wouldn’t move unless you gave in, you sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, please fuck me sir. I need to feel you inside of me” you pleaded, sliding your hands down his chest and resting them on his hips, squeezing just slightly to encourage him to move.

“Hmm, that’s better. You do have manners after all” he hummed, reaching in between you to slot his cock at your entrance. He didn’t push in, waiting until you let out another moan before slowly pushing his cock inside of you.

A gasp escaped you, unable to stop it as he continued to press into your soaking core, opening you up for his cock and sinking into your tight heat. He didn’t stop until he was buried inside of you, your walls clenching around him as you got used to the feel of him once more.

“Kriff, you’re so tight. Even with your fingers opening you up. Maybe I should have done it myself” he groaned, head falling to your collarbone as he waited for you to adjust to him.

You hummed, trailing your fingers through his curls and pressing a kiss to his temple. “Don’t matter, just fuck me now” you murmured into his bronze skin.

“With pleasure, cyare” he grinned, landing a soft kiss to your shoulder before dragging his cock out against your walls. It left you gasping at the feel of him before your breath was pushed back out again as he slammed inside of you.

He set a fast pace, teasing you by slowly pulling out and then slamming back into you. You knew he was paying you back for all the teasing you had done to him all day, but you would do it all over again if it meant that this was where you landed up every time. You cried out his name as his thrust sent your body higher up the table, your head nearly falling off the side as he fucked you.

Your nails dug into his back and shoulders, leaving crescent shaped marks that would remind him of tonight. He worked his hand into your hair, tugging sharply and swallowing your moan with his lips as he continues to pound his cock into you.

“Harder, please Captain!” you begged, the sting of pain from your scalp shooting to between your legs. He was all around you, every one of your senses filled by him as you writhed beneath him.

“Harder mesh’la? Alright then” he drawled, his voice making you clench around the hard length inside of you. Somehow he pressed you down more into the table, his hips relentlessly slamming into you as he held you even closer to him. Every part of you was touching as he grunted into your ear, loving the cries and moans that he pushed out of you.

Squeezing your legs tighter around his hips, you tugged him as close as you possibly could, body arching into his chest as you felt your core tighten and tighten.

“Fuck, please can I come? Please let me cum now” you gasped, words muffled as you pressed your face into his neck. Thank the Force for his superior hearing because you had a feeling you would combust if he didn’t.

“Think you deserve it? After everything?” he teased, tugging at your hair and squeezing the thighs that was wrapped round him.

“I’ve been good… did everything AH!… that you said” you whined, rolling your hips against his.

“You have, my good girl. So perfect for me” he praised, shifting his hips slightly to hit that spot that had you seeing stars. He hissed at the feeling of your nails digging even more into his skin, but it was marks that he would wear with pride. “Cum, cyare. Let me feel you shake around me” he demanded, slamming once more into you and targetting that special place that had you crying out his name, walls clenching around him as your release washed over you.

Howzer cursed at the feeling of you tightening so much around him that he could barely move, hips stuttering out one, two, three more thrusts before he painted your walls white. He collapsed against your front as your thighs quivered around him, both of you exhausted after your shared relief.

It took what felt like a few minutes for you to come back to yourself, but you didn't want to move, content to just stay in the warmth that Howzer provided for you. Your head felt all fuzzy and warm, happy to be surrounded by his love and care that nothing else mattered. You drew small patterns up and down his back as he gently pushed your hair back away from your face, letting out small soothing sounds that you couldn’t comprehend but they felt nice all the same.

Finally, as the cool night air began to register with you and you could feel his softening cock slip out of you, you grimaced and shivered against his. “Come on mesh’la, we can’t stay here. Let’s move this somewhere else” he murmured, scooping you up in his arms.

Pouting at being disturbed, you clung tighter onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face there. Taking a deep breath, you couldn’t help but relax at the soothing scent of him. You felt the soft material of the couch under your back as he lay you down.

“Hmm, my good girl, wait right here” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Settling you better on your couch, he cupped your cheek before getting up. “Gonna get something to clean us up with” he soothed, hearing the small whine you let out at being away from his warmth.

Within moments, he returned with a bottle of water, a few snacks on a plate and some wipes to clean up the mess you had both made. “Going to clean you up now, sweetheart. I’ll be quick” he assured, spreading your legs and gently guiding the wipes over your sensitive core. He made sure he cleaned up his seed that was beginning to leak out of you before throwing them to one side.

Next, he encouraged you to sit up and lean against his chest, hands rubbing soothingly up and down your sides. “Drink this for me” he instructed, kissing your cheek as he unfastened the bottle and held it up to your lips. He wouldn't let you take hold of it, preferring to do it himself.

Sighing, you snuggled back into him, eyes beginning to slide shut but his chest shook at his small chuckle. You did look so cute as you fought sleep, but he wasn’t done with you yet.

“I know, we’re nearly finished and then we can go cuddle in bed. Need you to eat something for me, love. It’d make me real happy to see that” he whispered, encouraging you to take a few bites out of your favourite snack for him. “That’s a good girl” he mumbled, when you had enough and was curling into his lap even more.

You felt so safe and protected being in his arms, being surrounded by him, and distantly you recognised you were in that wonderful calm head space that allowed you to give up control and just be. Howzer would look after you, he loved you and would make sure that everything was okay.

“Come on mesh’la, lets get you into bed” he smiled softly, burying his face into your hair for a moment more. Once more he picked you up, positioning you just right in his arms so that he could shut everything off and lock the door for the night.

Your head had barely touched your pillow before you felt sleep claiming you. In those few moments before your relinquished consciousness, you heard Howzer whisper how much he loved you into the back of your neck.

[hurpdurpburps]

A Casual Comparison Between The English vs Japanese (and a bit of Chinese) Versions Of Otherside Picnic

Just a ramble on my thoughts as someone who buys and reads both the English and Japanese versions of all the novel and the manga volumes.

Some of my commentary might come across as a bit too pedantic but it's coming from my thoughts as a current formal translator and former manga scanlator.

Spoiler Warning: events up to Vol 8 are mentioned.

Overall thoughts

Generally, I quite like Sean McCann's translations of the novels. I think his style strikes a nice balance between the need for needle-sharp accuracy and smoothness that localisation brings. He seems to have quite a mind-boggling amount of experience under his belt according to Kindle, and also translated Side-By-Side Dreamers (another fantastic read that I will fangirl here about one day!!!), which is a standalone novel by Miyazawa.

On the other hand, the English version of the manga feels rather clunky from time-to-time. Kindle doesn't credit anyone for the English translation of the manga and I don't think it's McCann. Redrawing is also pretty lazy, with English words often simply slapped on next to the original Japanese SFX, which is kinda terrible for an official publication.

Another aspect of the English manga I don't understand is why they chose to flip the reading sequence of the Kozakura POV short stories at the end. After reading through dozens of pages of the manga right-to-left I don't think it's any more difficult to read the story in the same direction. Having to skip to the very last page then resume reading left-to-right in reverse page order is so mindbogglingly tedious and unintuitive.

Dialogue, Nuances and Characterisation

A big issue with translation is the difference in how many words it takes to convey the same sentence in different languages. Extreme cases can call for bolder deviations from the original to maintain some semblance of narrative flow.

Here's a minor example - the following lines are from Vol 3 (File 9 - Yamanoke Presence), when Toriko is slapping the shit out of Sorawo's back:

“Ow! That hurts! [1]” “Suck it up. [2]”

「いった！　痛いって！ [1]」 「我慢して [2]」 　

The more literal translation of [1] would be "I said that hurts!" but I guess the translator opted for something that's shorter and more natural-sounding.

There's also the issue of characterisation stemming from dialogue style. Sometimes I feel like Toriko comes across as slightly more aggressive in English than the original Japanese version.

[2] in Japanese is simply and most accurately translated as "bear with it."

There's a similar scene in Vol 6 (File 20 - T is for Templeborn), when Toriko sticks her fingers inside Sorawo's right eye:

“Whoa! Hold up! That’s my eye!” “Suck it up.” “You’re kidding me, right?!”

「ちょ、ま、そこ目！」 「我慢して」 「噓でしょ!?」

Personally, I feel that "suck it up" should've only been used if the original text said "我慢しろ", which implies a more callous or harsher, commanding tone. To me at least, "我慢して" is pretty neutral.

Here's another example from Vol 6, when Sorawo begrudgingly compliments Toriko for having a pretty smart idea:

“Why do you always sound so frustrated when you compliment me on that, Sorawo? [1]” “Urgh.” I hadn’t expected her to call me out on that, so I didn’t know how to respond. “Well, I’m nice [2], so I won’t get mad at you for thinking I’m an idiot.”

「その褒め方するとき、いつもなんか悔しそうだよね空魚 [1]」 「うっ」 　思わぬ指摘をされて言葉に詰まる。 「鳥子さんは優しいから [2]、バカだと思われてても怒りませんけど」

[1] is more of an observation and not a question in Japanese. "You always look kind of frustrated when you compliment me like that, Sorawo" feels perfectly serviceable and fits with the line that comes next, so I'm not quite sure about the reason behind this translation decision.

As for [2], Toriko actually referred to herself in third-person ("Toriko-san is kind") in the Japanese version, which is supposed to a convey a sense of satirical self-grandiosity. Without that part, I think Toriko comes off as more direct and less playful in the English translation.

That said, there are also positive examples of localisation in the series. Take a look at this conversation from Vol 5 (File 16 - Pontianak Hotel):

“Why would they go to all the trouble of decking the place out in Balinese style, then go and push honey toast, of all things?” I asked, but Toriko had a simple answer. “It’s honey in Bali [1], right?” “Wait… That’s it?! Because they rhyme?! [2]”

「なんでこんなにバリ島モチーフなのに、フードはハニートースト推しなんだろ」 　 私が何の気なしに疑問を口にすると、鳥子がさらっと言った。 「バリ島でハニトー [1]ってことなんじゃない？」 「……えっ、そういうこと!?　駄洒落!? [2]」

[1] actually says "Honey toast in Bali", which can be romanised as "bari-tou de hani-tou". Sorta catchy in Japanese but doesn't swing in English, so the rationale for the change is fairly obvious.

[2] literally means "pun", or I guess it's supposed to be slightly more loosely interpreted as "wordplay" in this context, but that too has to be altered so that the earlier changes to [1] make sense.

We opened all the bottles and had another toast of the not-bread variety [1]; there was a loud clinking of bottles [2].

ビール組の小瓶の栓が全部抜かれて、改めて乾杯した [1]。グラスと瓶の触れ合う音が高らかに鳴り響く [2]。

[1] can be read as "we made a toast for a change", which without alteration can be fairly confusing so the translator seized the opportunity to add a little funny spin to it.

A more literal translation of [2] would be "The sound of glasses and bottles touching rang loudly". I suppose the localisation here could be considered as a minor but factual mistranslation, as cocktail glasses were actually present in this scene, in addition to beer bottles.

For our final example of missing nuance, here's a quick glance at Vol 6 (File 20 - T is for Templeborn), where Sorawo and Toriko went for a quick builder's lunch after a morning of breaking concrete:

Settling on a place that served Western-style dishes, we joined the salarymen and construction workers for a hearty meal.

あんまり気取らない感じの洋食屋を選んで、スーツ姿のサラリーマンや工事の作業員に交ざって、がっつりボリュームのある定��を食べた。

The bolded part roughly translates to "We chose a rather unpretentious Western restaurant...", with "unpretentious" in this context referring to a place that doesn't feel very conscious/fussy about attire/appearances.

I don't think it's a big deal per se, but it's the inclusion of small details like that which adds flourish to Miyazawa's writing, and it's kind of a pity for them to be missing when they don't have to be.

Prose and Structure

Japanese is a high-context language, so writers often take it for granted that their readers can intuitively grasp who's saying what, which is not very helpful for English readers. There are certain parts of the Japanese version that is just a whole dozen lines of uninterrupted dialogue. The text below from Vol 5 (File 16 - Pontianak Hotel) is a very good example:

“Phew… Toriko, did you eat your share?” I asked. “Yeah, I sure did. It was delicious.” “Is that really true…?” “She does seem to be putting on an awfully calm face,” Akari agreed. “I feel like she was just eating the ice cream on top,” Kozakura interjected. “See, I knew it!” “Hey, hey, don’t worry about it,” Toriko tried to mollify us. “You’ve all finished your drinks, right? Let’s have another toast.” “Whose is this one, with the orange and… blackcurrant?” Akari asked. “That’s mine,” said Natsumi. “Pass it here.” “Everyone else ordered beer, huh?” Kozakura noted. “Which’s yours, Toriko?” “The Bintang.” “I had one of those too,” Kozakura said. “Well, I guess these must be for Senpai and me. Bali-hai?” “Yeah, I’ll pass around the bottle-opener,” I said.

Note all the speaker names bolded above... and how they completely don't exist in the Japanese version below:

「ふー……鳥子、ちゃんと食べた？ [1]」 「食べた食べた [2]。おいしかったね」 「本当かな」 「それにしては涼しい顔してますよね [3]」 「そいつ [4]、上に乗ってるアイスばっかり食ってた気がするな [4]」 「ほらやっぱり！」 「まあまあ [2]、いいじゃん。みんなお酒なくなったでしょ。もっかい乾杯しよ [2]」 「このオレンジ入ってるやつ、カシスかな？誰のですかー？[3]」 「それウチ [5] の。ちょうだい」 「ほかみん��ビール頼んだんだね」 「鳥子のどれ？ [1]」 「ビンタンとかいうやつ」 「あたし [4] のもそれだ」 「じゃあ、センパイと私がこっちですね [3]。バリハイ？」 「うん、栓抜き回すね」

You might be wondering how the hell Japanese readers tell apart who's who? Thanks to the Japanese language's rich vocabulary of personal pronouns, 'tiers of politeness' and three different writing systems, personalities are easily demonstrated via dialogue.

For example, the most common personal pronoun, "watashi" (meaning "I" or "me"), can be expressed in kanji (私), hiragana (わたし) or less commonly katakana (ワタシ). The kanji form is considered "true neutral" and also used in formal contexts such as emails, while the hiragana is more cutesy.

In the case of this specific conversation, we can roughly tell the speakers apart using the process of elimination via each person's relationship with the others:

[1] This is clearly Sorawo, as she's the only one apart from Kozakura who addresses Toriko without any honourifics, and her tone soft and casual.

[2] Toriko says "食べた食べた" and "まあまあ", which translates to "I ate it, I ate it" and "Oh well, oh well" respectively. A common speech pattern of Toriko's is to say things twice, representing her casual and chirpy demeanor. Toriko also likes to contract her words. The line "Let’s have another toast" is written in Japanese as "もっかい乾杯しよ" (romaji: mokkai), which is a shortened version of "もう一回" (romaji: mou ikkai).

[3] Akari is the only one who uses polite language (the -masu form) in this group of misfits, and also the only one who addresses Sorawo as "senpai", notably in katakana (センパイ).

[4] Interestingly, Kozakura uses "atashi" (あたし), which is considered less neutral/softer/more feminine than the standard "watashi", but the rest of her speech style is consistently rude and masculine, such as addressing the rest as "お前ら" or Toriko with "そいつ", which has a "top-down" tone.

[5] Natsumi uses the personal pronoun "uchi" (ウチ), which is sorta a gangsta/delinquent stereotype.

Mistranslation

Translation errors are for the most part very rare, minor and always come across as a case of careless misreading rather than a lack of fluency.

Apart from the ones already mentioned in passing above, I'll list two more such examples below (taken from my OP Pilgrimage List Pt. 1):

Example 1: Vol 7 (File 22 - Toilet Paper Moon)

“I hear there’s a lounge on the fourth floor here.” “A lounge…?” “It’s got a night view and you can drink there.”

「ここ、四十五階にラウンジがあるんだって」 「……ラウンジ？」 「夜景が見えて、お酒が飲めるとこ」

Here, the Japanese text says 45th floor, instead of the 4th floor.

Example 2: Vol 6 (File 20 - T is for Templeborn)

I ordered tonkatsu curry with a black roux and lots of cheese, while Toriko had roasted flounder with ginger.

私は真っ黒なルーにチーズのたっぷりかかったカツカレー、鳥子はヒラメのカツと生姜焼き。

The bolded part states "flounder katsu and shougayaki", which actually means a piece of breaded, deep fried flounder, with pork stir-fried in ginger sauce on the side.

Chinese Censorship

As most would know, censorship is heavy-handed in China, so how does a certified Yuri series get processed over there?

The Gay™ parts get re-written or entirely scrubbed and replaced with something more 'innocuous'.

I don't read OP in Chinese, but I stumbled upon this tweet by a professional Chinese translator complaining about the censorship in the Chinese version of the novels.

In Vol 5 (File 19 - Hasshaku-sama Revival), Toriko gives Sorawo a surprise kiss after they escape Hasshaku-sama:

“With no time for me to close my eyes, our lips touched… then parted again [1]. Freed from her hands [2], I stumbled backwards. As I covered my mouth and stared at her [3], Toriko said, “Let’s call it even with that.”

This is the original Japanese:

目を閉じる間もなく、唇と唇が触れて……離れた [1]。 しつこい両手から解放されて [2]、私はよろよろと後ずさった。 口を押さえる私と目を合わせたまま [3]、鳥子が言った。 「これでチャラにしてあげる」

Translation: "With no time for me to close my eyes, our lips touched... then parted again [1]. Freed from her stubborn arms [2], I stumbled backwards. As I covered my mouth, Toriko's eyes met mine [3], and she said, "Let’s call it even with that.""

Here's the Chinese text:

我甚至来不及闭上眼，只见鸟子弹了下我的额头。 [1] 好痛！[1] 抓紧不放的那双手放开了我 [2]，我趔趄着后退了几步，捂住嘴巴。 鸟子依然注视着我的眼睛 [3]，说道：“这样就一笔勾销了。”

Translation: "With no time for to close my eyes, Toriko flicked me on the forehead. That hurt! [1] Her arms that were gripping strongly released me [2], and I staggered back a few steps, covering my mouth. Still looking into my eyes [3], Toriko said, "Let's call it even with that.""

As you can tell from [1], the Chinese version replaces the kiss with a flick on the forehead, but keeps the part where Sorawo covers her mouth. You can think of it as the translator screaming "it's NOT her forehead and it's NOT a flick" with their mouth taped and their hands tied behind their back.

Honestly... I can't wait for the Chinese translation of Vol 8 to come out, if it ever does. I'd buy a copy just to see how they deal with censoring the entire book LOL.

I also bolded [2] and [3] so you can compare/contrast how the same scene is written across three languages. Apart from the censored kiss, the Chinese translation actually follows the Japanese text more closely than the English version.

Classification

A pet-peeve of mine is people calling the books light novels. OP is not LN!!! It's a bona fide novel series under the banner of a respected major publishing house which is also the largest sci-fi publisher in Japan. Don't let the illustrations on the cover fool you.

[imitationgame77]

Twice, Mensah melts Murderbot

Murderbot is a very private person, often struggles to keep its emotions under control. Even though Murderbot is often blunt, sometimes even a bit rude to the humans, it is generally keeping its emotional expressions under control.

It can be openly rude to two - Gurathin and ART.

Gurathin was probably the first (augmented) human to whom Murderbot could openly express strong disapproval since it disabled the governor module (I don't like you; Fuck you)

ART is the receiving end of various expletives in Network Effect. (Because it is Murderbot's friend and not its client)

Mensah, on the other hand, is the only person that seems to be able to melt Murderbot's metaphorical heart, and gives it a sense of vulnerability. Because she understands it as a person - as only friends on the same wavelength can.

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

All Systems Red

I muted my feed and the comm, and she said, “I know you’re more comfortable with keeping your helmet opaque, but the situation has changed. We need to see you.”

I didn’t want to do it. Now more than ever. They knew too much about me. But I needed them to trust me so I could keep them alive and keep doing my job. The good version of my job, not the half-assed version of my job that I’d been doing before things started trying to kill my clients. I still didn’t want to do it. “It’s usually better if humans think of me as a robot,” I said.

“Maybe, under normal circumstances.” She was looking a little off to one side, not trying to make eye contact, which I appreciated. “But this situation is different. It would be better if they could think of you as a person who is trying to help. Because that’s how I think of you.”

My insides melted. That’s the only way I could describe it. After a minute, when I had my expression under control, I cleared the face plate and had it and the helmet fold back into my armor.

Wells, Martha. All Systems Red (Kindle Single): The Murderbot Diaries (English Edition) (pp.103-104).

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

Exit Strategy

Huh, why did I like Sanctuary Moon so much? I had to pull the memory from my archive, and what I saw there startled me. “It’s the first one I saw. When I hacked my governor module and picked up the entertainment feed. It made me feel like a person.” Yeah, that last part shouldn’t have come out, but with all the security-feed monitoring I was doing, I was losing control of my output. I closed my archive. I really needed to get around to setting that one-second delay on my mouth.

[...]

She said instead, “Why did it make you feel that way?”

“I don’t know.” That was true. But pulling the archived memory had brought it back, vividly, as if it had all just happened. (Stupid human neural tissue does that.) The words kept wanting to come out. It gave me context for the emotions I was feeling, I managed not to say. “It kept me company without…”

“Without making you interact?” she suggested.

That she understood even that much made me melt. I hate that this happens, it makes me feel vulnerable. Maybe that was why I had been nervous about meeting Mensah again, and not all the other dumb reasons I had come up with. I hadn’t been afraid that she wasn’t my friend, I had been afraid that she was, and what it did to me.

Wells, Martha. Exit Strategy: The Murderbot Diaries (pp.115-116)

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

I don't wish to sound like Anne Shirley, but both Dr. Mensah and ART are kindred spirits (or something like soulmates) to Murderbot, but in different ways.

ART 'gets' Murderbot's thought/action processes and tendencies perfectly, and also comes to understand its emotion reactions since they shared long hours of media viewing where ART learned to process subjective emotions through Murderbot's reactions. ART is more likely to challenge Murderbot when it notes unproductive thought processes, or gets Murderbot to express it to make it understand its own thoughts.

Dr. Mensah, in contrast, is a highly empathetic and intelligent person, and she instintively understands Murderbot. Her high intellectual and emotional intelligence made her the planetary leader, loved and admired by many. She expresses her understanding of Murderbot, which is often accurate and makes it feel vulnerable, but not in a bad way. It feels being understood.

It is very touching the way Murderbot can be vulnerable in her presence and trusts her completely. HelpMe.file reveals that how it has come to unlearn its instinctive response to use violence in order to eliminate threat by trusting her.

Murderbot likes PresAux people, and calls Ratthi its friend, but it is clear to readers that Dr. Mensah is a very special person to it. And Murderbot is also a special person to Dr. Mensah that she can trust with her life.

It melts ME whenever I read them interact.

Amena seems to have inherited some of her second mother's emotinal intelligence. Hope she appears in the future again. I liked the way the relationship between her and Murderbot developed in Network Effect.

[tachikoma-x]

So like I see this question pop up on the MTP subreddit almost every week: “Should I read Moriarty the Patriot the manga if I’ve finished the anime series?”

Absolutely!

Things that I learned from the manga that I think made the series that much more special to me off of the top of my head:

What happens after that epic fall - yes the story continues and it’s amazing

Why Louis mainly takes on the role of a butler (I had a problem with this arrangement while watching the anime ngl)

Moran’s backstory and how he views William and the group’s actions

How Fred views William

Albert’s role as a key member of the lord of crime triad and his relationship to Mycroft

Sherliam hanging out in Durham (!!! I will never understand why Production IG chose to skip this…)

More context to each character’s motivations and actions, including those targeted by the Lord of Crime

All the omake (extra content) by Takeuchi sensei which are the cutest things ever

The manga takes its time with story and character development. As a result, things just hit different. This is especially true for several of the more complicated arcs like the Final Problem. Many scenes from Vol. 13-16 will forever live rent free in my head and I cry whenever I think about them- It’s a good problem to have.

And get THIS:

Manga William is even hotter (like how’s that even possible

Manga Sherlock and Albert are both about 2000 percent hotter (anime really didn’t do these two justice smh

P.S. If you don’t want to purchase physical copies, there are digital copies available in English from Amazon Kindle and in Japanese from multiple providers, as well as fan translated versions. The English Kindle Version strangely has much higher resolution than the Japanese digital version I bought from BookWalker, not sure why.

(Why I am writing this here tho I don’t know like this is the dictionary definition of preaching to the choir 😅

[taradactyls]

Ao3 anon from before: yeah they’re pretty chill about for profit fanfic as long as it’s not on their site, effectively! I just know of several out of copyright works fanfic authors who had to go back and edit their works because they didn’t realize that the no pay for fanfic on ao3 applies to all fandoms on the site and didn’t want you to deal with it by surprise

Yeah it's good information to have!

I knew there was some restrictions (in the past I was worried about links at all, and have been wondering about what applies to non-copyrighted work) so I'm glad to have clarity. I can understand why Ao3 have to be strict about it even when copyright doesn't apply, protecting the integrity of the site against lawsuits is super important.

At some point I might have to do some more careful research about how self-publishing goes with uploaded Ao3 fics because I have Sian-of-the-writing-dates, and my art teacher* heavily prompting me to self-publish on kindle or something an edited final version of the fic once it's done. But that's only something I would consider if the fic could stay on Ao3 as well. Honestly, even if it doesn't sell a single copy, simply having a product for sale might help with qualifying for the childcare subsidy which would really help with life, so it's something I do have to seriously consider. Plus, as someone who does want to publish fiction for a living it seems like having something already published with good reviews (hopefully) would really help with getting a foot in the door - since so much of the publishing industry these days seems to be about connections and not manuscripts.

(*Yes, basically EVERYONE in my life knows I'm regularly publishing something online - I've done my best to keep the actual details hidden but one cousin spilt the beans and I've sort of given up lol)

[djinnandtea]

When I was in high school, I stumbled across an artist that really grabbed my attention and held onto it tightly. His work was gorgeous and fantastical and gory and also more than a little…salacious. All things that teenaged me love. This artist’s name was Luis Royo, and his works often involved some variation of beautiful, thin, light-skinned, half-naked women looking moody and forlorn covered in blood or boning some buff dude in some dystopian wasteland of a universe. But sometimes, Royo’s women didn’t settle for boning random men. Sometimes they preferred something a little more…inhuman. Yeah, baby, I’m talking about monsters.

Now, eventually I stopped buying Luis Royo’s books. I don’t remember why—I mean, I don’t even remember how I started buying them in the first place considering all of my mail was routed through my mother, because again, this was high school—but I stopped. But that didn’t mean that I also stopped thinking about ladies banging monsters. That never stopped. I didn’t have a vocabulary for this interest. I didn’t know what it was called, I didn’t know if other people liked it. I was consuming Royo’s work on my own and forcing it on my high school friends who were considerably less interested in the monster stuff than I was. So I kind of learned to just keep it quiet. But the interest certainly didn’t go away.

As I got older and started to explore different types of art and media and ways of telling stories, I found myself continuously drawn to some version of humans and inhumans connecting, falling in love, getting it on. Sometimes that looked like a really intense vampire phase and an appreciation for all things Anne Rice and Twilight and Sookie Stackhouse. Sometimes that looked like a really deep interest in folklore that involved humans marrying animal brides and bridegrooms. Sometimes it looked like a fixation with the movies of Guillermo Del Toro. And sometimes that looked like accepting there was probably a strange and unconventional reason that Beauty and the Beast was my favorite Disney movie growing up.

I mean. Did y’all see the beast?

It wasn’t until late 2022 that all the dots started connecting. I had decided I wanted to read more, specifically more romance. I added some BookTok accounts to my TikTok feed. I started talking more about romance books with a friend. I started exploring the world of spicy adult paranormal romance and joining Kindle Unlimited, which was very exciting all on its own. And that’s when I found it, my holy grail: the book subgenre known as monster romance. You know that saying, “All roads lead to Rome”? It was kind of like that, except all the roads I took lead to the city of monsterfucking. Monsterfucking was my Roman Empire, if you will. And what a glorious empire it was.

As I’ve engaged more directly and consistently with the monster romance genre, it’s inspired a lot of thoughts for me. That’s why I’ve started this blog, because I can’t stop thinking about fucking monsters, and I want to explore the idea in a lot of different ways. For today, I want to talk a bit about why I think monster romance holds so much appeal for me and for the many others who enjoy it. That seems like as good a starting point as any.

When I was thinking about this question, one of the first things that came to mind was a blog post I read a number of years ago that never really left my head. It was written by Cleolinda Jones over on Livejournal. If you’re an older millennial viewer, Cleolinda’s name might sound familiar, as she’s the author of some very funny movie recaps she called “Movies in 15 Minutes,” which was my introduction to her. But Cleolinda is also known for her Twilight recaps that she posted to her LJ account. These recaps fused a summary of the books with her own observations, and man, her observations were good.

In Cleolinda’s recap for the first Twilight novel, she gets into why she thinks the series has had the success that it’s had. She specifically talks about how she feels Twilight is just an extension of the “good girls wanting a bad boy” trope.

I actually don't think girls like a guy who treats them bad. But I do think they--we--get off a little on the idea of changing someone for the better, or the idea of having the power that someone loves us so much that he'll change or sacrifice something for us….A nice guy doesn't need to change, and, most importantly, he's already nice to everyone. How do you know that you're special if he treats everyone else with as much kindness and respect as he treats you? The "bad boy" type, though? He may range from simple, garden-variety jackhole…to appalling psychopath…, but you know he loves you because he's completely different around you. You are an exception to his very nature….That's the fantasy.

Now, I’m not saying every male lead in a monster romance is a jerk, because a lot of them aren’t. (Don’t worry, Sol, I’d never let anyone accuse you of being mean.) But I do think by virtue of these monsters being, well, monsters, there’s a given understanding by readers that a human should not be fucking one. Monsters are predators, monsters are dangerous, monsters are not made for cuddles and smooches. But these monsters in these books? Especially the ones who are a little rougher around the edges? Seeing them soften for their human partners is deeply satisfying and scratches the exact kind of itch that I think Cleolinda is referencing.

But long before Cleolinda was musing on bad boys, writer and literary critic Hélène Cixous was posing something related in her essay “Love of the Wolf.” This essay has a number of interesting things to say on the tension between love and fear, using the metaphor of loving “the wolf,” aka loving a thing that can harm or destroy us, to make her point. Cixous writes about the thrill of fear when in love, and suggests that we must have that true fear to experience true love.

But happiness is when a real wolf suddenly refrains from eating us. The lamb’s burst of laughter comes when it’s about to be devoured, and then, at the last second, is not eaten. Hallelujah comes to mind. To have almost been eaten yet not to have been eaten: that is the triumph of life. But you’ve got to have the two instants, just before the teeth and just after, you’ve got to hear the jaws coming down on nothing for there to be jubilation. Even the wolf is surprised. (Stigmata, pg. 77)

It’s the idea, once more, of the person that we care about changing their very nature to be with us. The bad boy will treat us with kindness. The big bad wolf won’t eat us. The monster will love us tenderly. We humans are special, something to be cherished, even by something traditionally seen as negatively as monsters have been.

It makes me think too about the popularity of dark romance on BookTok and Bookstagram. Monster romance is kind of like dark romance taken to a different sort of extreme. In dark romance, there is often a baseline threat of violence or a disregard of consent. The male leads are often cruel, unpredictable, and inconsiderate. Their love of the other character drives them to stalk or kill or harm others, and even to be deeply, toxically controlling and possessive of the main character. And this is why folks like them. These are the real bad boys, and I mean the really bad boys, that Cleolinda’s talking about. And with the monsters in monster romances, there can be a lot of overlap. The monsters can be cruel and controlling for sure, but even when they aren’t, their very existence as monsters makes them a super unconventional choice for a human person. If the mafia boyfriend with anger issues who you know you should avoid is appealing, than the entirely different species with claws and fangs and a tail who you’re really not supposed to want to bone is that appeal taken about three steps further.

At some point I’d like to explore the different sorts of monster romance book covers that are popular with authors and artists, because I think they get at the last topic I wanted to touch on today when it comes to the appeal of monsterloving: aesthetics. Size kink can be fun in every genre, but monster romances really understood that particular assignment. The monsters in these books are massive in every possible area. Their muscles are chiseled, their tails are long, and their eggplants are otherworldy. Not to mention, a monster may even have more than one.

There’s also the contrast of furry or scale-covered monster bodies embracing soft, fragile human bodies. Monster bodies are foreign and unique; they’re a fantasy that can’t be found anywhere else, which makes the fantasy inherently more interesting. There’s a lot more that can and should be said here about the gender dynamics at play in the design of these monstrous figures and their human partners, and even possibly the racial dynamics too, but for now I just want us thinking about how the physical depiction of monsters and humans together holds an undeniable appeal to a large number of people. I’m thinking again about Luis Royo and the success of his art that explored this very thing. And that’s really interesting to me.

I’ll stop there for today, I think. See you in the next post!

Currently Reading: Devoured by Monsters - Katie May & Ann Denton

Monster Joke for the Road: What was the dramatic monster’s favorite play?

Romeo and Ghouliet.

Until next time, monsterfuckers.

[aroaessidhe]

Mid-Year Book Freakout 2023

1. Best book you’ve read so far this year

The Art of Prophecy - this was so fun and made just for me I enjoyed it a lot The Misadventures of an Amateur Naturalist - really good and also quite unique for the space it’s sitting in I think! The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi - this is very good and fun I loved it

2. Best sequel you’ve read so far this year

The World We Make - love this duology!! NK Jemisin does it again etc etc A Day of Fallen Night - prequel technically, but I enjoyed it a lot and more than priory I think! Sailing By Carina’s Star - i am enjoying this trilogy a lot we love queer pirates The Shadow Cabinet - somehow even more wild than the first book

3. New release you haven’t read yet

I don’t keep lists of books I need to read, so of course when I try to think of something my mind goes blank, here’s a couple from my library holds/kindle To Shape A Dragon’s Breath Wander The Night also does Flight & Anchor count if I’ve read the original patreon version but not the published version yet

4. Most anticipated release for the second half of the year

(same situation lmao) I’m looking forward to He Who Drowned The World! that’s the first thing that comes to mind

5. Biggest disappointment

tbqh I’ve read a lot of disappointments but they’re mostly self published ones that I read soley because of aspec characters that didn’t hold up in the writing department and are not very well known anyway. (I’ve read tons of selfpubs that are amazing too of course!!) so I’ll just mention some traditionally published ones: Rosewater - I did go into this with the wrong expectations for one, but also the MC was so (intentionally) misogynistic it was hard to enjoy :/ The Wicked Remain - there were a few iffy things in the first book but also things I liked and the second book just...didn’t really add to the things I liked. idk Song of Silver, Flame Like Night - I knew this wasn’t gonna be entirely for me in the first place but man what was up with the only other female character (that’s not dead) having an absolute caricature of a mean girl rivalry with the MC in like. a calling each other slurs kind of way not a fun way

6. Biggest surprise

Beating Heart Baby - I enjoy reading YA contemporary but there’s usually a limit to how much I enjoy it compared to sff, but this went beyond what I expected and I really loved it The Meister of Decimen City - I didn’t have any expectations for this, someone just mentioned it on a discord and I got it from the library, but I loved it a lot!

7. Favorite new author (debut or new to you)

See generally I only call people favourite authors if I’ve read and loved like, at least 3 separate books from them, and I don’t really have any of those for this year.....you need to work to get my loyalty Here’s a few authors that I’ve read a second book/series from them this year and am like, ah yes, I will read the next one: Ceinwen Langley Rebecca Schaeffer Liselle Sambury

8. Newest fictional crush/newest favorite character

tbh I’m not one to separate an individual character from their book or like, the other characters surrounding them very often, so I just can’t think of anything specific... all the women in The Art of Prophecy are great

9. Book that made you cry

I’ve actually started recording this in my stats this year HAHA, with “fully crying” “teared up” and “cried from cute/happiness” and,, I did not expect that there are only 3 books that have made me fully cry????? Which are: In Other Lands and Lirael (nostalgia def has a part to play in both of those) and Beating Heart Baby. I can’t remember why I cried for that one but clearly it was a lot lmao

10. Book that made you happy

I mean it’s a reread but In Other Lands of course

World Running Down - only just read this and I really enjoyed it! a good mix of an interesting sci-fi future that isn’t super dark but also doesn’t shy away from various issues, and an interesting romance! (me enjoying a romance, shocker)

witch hat atelier! - how could it Not make you happy tbh

thanks @violaeade for tagging me!

I will tag @thereadingchallengechallenge @nycorix @speculatives @dkafterdark and anyone else who wants I guess

[wuxiaphoenix]

Book Review: The Withdrawing Room

The Withdrawing Room, by Charlotte MacLeod (1980). I’m giving this five out of five as one of my long-time comfort cozy mystery reads; most of the author’s books are in Kindle version, but if you can find an old paperback, more power to you - it’s a nice little book.

It’s actually the second in the series; The Family Vault was first. But I ended up reading this one first when I found it in a library years ago, so I can definitively say you can pick it up and understand pretty quickly who Sarah Kelling and Max Bittersohn are, how they met, and the broad strokes of the murder that brought them to meet. The author is good at slipping in little background details so you’re clued in!

One of the reasons I like rereading this is that the previous book ended up with Sarah Kelling in a Situation; her family estate’s been plundered, just about all the assets she shared with her (now deceased) husband were stolen by her (evil and very deceased) mother-in-law, and just who owns her townhouse and country house are a matter the courts may take years to settle. In the meantime, the mortgage and taxes still need to be paid.

(Oh man I bet so many of us can sympathize with this one.)

So Sarah hatches a desperate plot: turn the townhouse into a boardinghouse, use the rent and the money she still has from her own small inheritance to keep everything afloat for a year and see what happens. She’s tired and grieving and up against formidable obstacles... but she has a plan, and she keeps trying. One of my favorite bits of dialogue is about just this, in the first few pages:

“I’m selling the McIntire escritoire to pay for the renovations. It’s not under the mortgage, is it?”

“Don’t ask,” Uncle Jem advised.

So! An eclectic cast of characters is assembled, including one more who wanted to get a room but the one he wanted was taken. Ah, alas....

And then there is a Murder. Coincidentally (hah!) of the most irritable and quarrelsome of the boarders. And a witness, who spotted an article about Sarah Kelling in the paper and came to tell her what she saw....

How well does Sarah know her boarders? Who had a beef with the irritable Mr. Quiffen? Who didn’t?

The ultimate murderer may or may not surprise you, but the joy of the read is as much in the quirky characters and setting as the mystery. It’s one reason this book holds up to multiple reads! And why I’ve kept a copy through several moves and painful personal library winnowings.

Try Paperbackswap.com, or a Kindle version. And The Family Vault’s good too, if you want to start reading the series in order!

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

43: One night before the Emperor's Murder

Are we back to present-time, current-timeline yet?

Ninth skull - with a grin, the Ninth scrubbed out, and Gideon's sunglasses. Cleaved in two.

There was a blur of faces, of movement. Harrow found that she was not shocked, after all. She was consumed. She was the kindling for the arson taking place in her heart, her brain dry wadding for the flames, her soul so much incandescent gas. She could not do this. She absolutely and fundamentally could not do this. “Harrow?” said someone close by—someone familiar; her vision swam. “If I forget you, let my right hand be forgotten,” her mouth was saying. “Add more also, if aught but death part me and thee.” And, unsteadily: “Griddle.”

Griddle!!!!

Is she remembering?

If so - why is Magnus there???

Is this another splintered timeline????

Harrow was too amazed by her body’s expanding capacity for despair. It was as though her feeling doubled even as she looked at it, unfolding, like falling down an endless flight of stairs. She dug her hands into the mattress and she cried for Gideon Nav.

Oh baby. Oh baby Harrow. Oh Harrow.

Is she remembering?

and felt the grief that had multiplied into a universe.

Hello????

-oh - we seem to be in the timeline from Gideon the Ninth - somehow -

Is Harrow dreaming? Is she in the River? How is she talking to Abigail?

“You died,” said Harrowhark. “Septimus killed you. The Lyctor masquerading as Septimus.” “Yes,” said the Fifth adept. “It was unpleasant. Look, I hate to ask, but did you—get her? None of us are sure.” “Nav and I drove a sword through her breastbone,” said Harrow, and swallowed against a wad of saliva burning in her throat.

That doesn't quite answer the question. You thought you killed her - but.

The cold did not worry Harrow until, as habit, she tried to warm her core from within, and found that she could not. She was somehow not a Lyctor here. Pushing her blood cells around made her feel that old, hungry pang for thanergy that she had not felt for the better part of a year.

She must be in the River, then.

“Reverend Daughter,” she said, “I’ve been accused of many things, but this is the first time I’ve been assumed to be a delusion.” “But you are—” “A ghost,” said the woman smilingly. “A revenant, more precisely.”

She must be in the River, then.

It was easier to answer questions mechanically. “In the first days. I knew she would be absorbed. I understood that I would inadvertently destroy her soul—the process was already underway. But it hadn’t finished. I had time. I decided to remove my ability to so incorporate her … by removing my ability to comprehend her.”

... this was Harrow... trying to save Gideon's soul??

“I think we are talking over each other,” said the Fifth adept, rubbing her mittened hands together. “I’m not asking about the preserved soul that made you a Lyctor, Reverend Daughter … though that’s also filled in some of the pieces. Harrowhark, I am referring to the invasive soul.”

Harrow being haunted. Another soul???

“This is my creation.” “Yes. You set the parameters,” said Abigail. “We realized through process of elimination, as we each recalled ourselves in the end. You didn’t. Ortus was convinced it was your creation from the start—I’m sorry that I disbelieved him.” That was for later mental delectation. “I made a bubble in the River, just like Sextus did. But unconsciously, shoddily…”

Oh.... that's.... Okay wow.

“This isn’t a picture you’re drawing, Harrow,” said Pent. “It’s a play you’re directing. You set up a stage in the River, you pulled in ghosts as your actors, and you enforced certain rules to keep your cast on-script. But now another director is trying to hijack the play, and the struggle for control backstage is leaking over into the action out front. You’re being ousted.”

It makes sense, then, why the Sixth had to die so early in this version, as well as Coronabeth, and Judith Deuteros. Ianthe was never much of a feature in this at all either.

So the soul haunting Harrow - is - the Sleeper?

“Leave your body to your body, Reverend Daughter,” said Abigail, rising shakily to stand, her teeth chattering. “If you were dead on the other side, we’d all be gone by now. If you die in here, your soul is gone forever. Right now, in this moment, you are alive—let us ensure that if your body survives, you will remain at the helm.” Harrow fought to be heard over the screams of the wind. “But I was stabbed through the stomach! What’s happening out there?”

What indeed???

Well, finally, some answers! Some goddamn answers!!

More questions as I've been promised, but finally some goddamn answers!!!!!

Her soul remembers Gideon - so there is hope yet -

I wonder if Gideon is the sleeper, haunting Harrow out of spite? Or someone else entirely, but who???

I need a minute.

[whatevertheweather]

Thank you @you-remind-me-of-the-babe and @aristocratic-otter for the tags!

Not to say this every time I do a tag game, but I’m super late to this party. In fact so late that I wasn’t going to do it, but then I kept thinking about it, so hi everyone, here’s a throwback to when all of you did this a million years ago.

Rules: list your top 10 most kudos’d fics on AO3, followed by your own personal top 10.

AO3 Top 10:

1. Bite Me (M; 27.6k)

2. A Restless Mind (T; 21k)

3. Keep It Down (E; 5k; co-written with @fatalfangirl)

4. The Space In Between (M; 101k)

5. Caprine Attire (T; 18.4k)

6. For The Turtles (T; 17.9k)

7. Just A Prank (T; 5k)

8. The Definition of Platonic (T; 5.7k)

9. Archery 101 (M; 13k; co-written with @you-remind-me-of-the-babe)

10. Raining Cats and Dogs (Without the Cats) - (T; 4.9k)

My my. This is all going to get rather rearranged.

My Top 10:

1. The Space In Between: Surprising absolutely no one, TSIB is still my number one favorite thing I’ve written, and it will always be terribly dear to me. I cannot overstate the impact it had on my writing and my...overall joy. I’ve made an edited and formatted version to put on my Kindle and I reread it more than I should.

2. Bite Me: Okay we can all agree on this one apparently. There are several fics I’m struggling to pick between for spots 2 through 4, but this one earns this place for the amount of fun I had writing it. And posting it. The enthusiasm it received was wonderful and it made me feel wonderful.

3. Brazen (M; 10.9k): My least popular fic! I love it so. I also understand that it’s not for everyone, and that’s valid. I have in fact had a couple moments myself of, “Wow I. I really did write that huh.” But listen, over the past few months I have consumed no less than four separate pieces of (fairly popular) fiction that have all equally inspired me to say, “Yeah that’s fucked up. Brazen really ain’t shit huh.” So. Anyway, it’s so much fun to write them being feral, an excellent pastime, can’t recommend it enough. That’s why I’m writing more of it.

4. The Smokescreen (T; 18k): Surprising absolutely everyone, myself most of all, I’m actually putting my third least popular fic in fourth place! The surprise there is that not so long ago, this was number one for my least favorite of my fics. Now, to be fair to the fic (and Selkie, who did the wonderful art and gave the prompt for CORB), my problem with it was very much me and the state of my brain when I was working on it. Point being that by the time I posted, I was so sick of writing it that I never wanted to read it again. But many months passed, and I thought, “Fine, I’ll give it a try,” and I actually didn’t hate it. In fact I liked it. In fact I’m a little proud of it. In fact I think of it semi-regularly in a fond way. (It also gets bonus points for the tag “Antagonistic Flirting,” because that is Baz at his best.)

5. A Restless Mind: This one still makes me feel soft and warm because it’s soft and warm and also the first fic I ever wrote. I have a very vivid memory of pulling my laptop out one night, opening a blank document, typing “I,” and then saying “nope, nope, can’t do it” and closing everything. Several months after that, I was still thinking about it and decided I could do it if I went with third person. And I did. And now my Ao3 word count is 280,836. Whoops.

6. For The Turtles: This one makes me soft and fuzzy in a similar but slightly different way, because it’s silly and fun and it was the first fic I ever posted. Which also means it’s the first time I ever experienced the straight shot of endorphins that comes with reading a beta’s comments of laughter and positivity in a document I was super nervous about sharing. So thank you again, Jess.

7. Caprine Attire: Again with the nostalgic and happy elements of the two fics above this. This is a sequel to For The Turtles that was never meant to exist, but it insisted on existing before I even decided to post FTF. I had a lot of fun with it, it still makes me laugh, and I remember very clearly the moment I wrote “Simon (1:12 pm): is it tyrannus basilton grimm pitch the fifth? or tyrannus the fifth basilton grimm pitch?? tyrannus five: the empire strikes backilton grimm pitch???”, cackling, and then saying, “Oh fuck, I have to post the first one now.”

8: Just A Prank: Another I had good fun with. I wrote it in a night, so it’s bite-sized and full of pranks and uni boys being stupid and also kissing. Just a good time.

9. The Definition of Platonic: Sweet, fluff, domesticity, friends-to-lovers, it’s cozy and feel-good. I depleted my stores of cutesy romantic feelings for this, but they’re refilled now, so all is well and I can reread it without huffing.

10. Raining Cats and Dogs (Without the Cats): Again, I just had a lot of fun writing this, and it’s nice and sweet and carries a lot of fond memories for me of my dog and rain and all that good stuff. Also I will always stan liar!Simon.

Please note that the exclusion of co-written fics is not a reflection of my affection for them, but is rather, of course, for the fact that I didn’t write them alone <3

I’m pretty sure literally everyone has done this by now, but I don’t know who for sure so I’m tossing out some tags for @artsyunderstudy @martsonmars @bookish-bogwitch @urban-sith anyway and seeing what bites.

[feraecor]

Rules, tag 10 followers  you want to get to know better!

Tagged by: @sansloii​

Name: Kei... xD Aya also calls me moochie irl

Star Sign: Sagitarius (sun) + Pisces  (moon) +  Libra (rising)

Height: 5'6.5″

Middle name: Rose ;;;;

Put your itunes/spotify/youtube on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up? (don’t judge me y’all, its all over the place)

Ready As I’ll Ever Be by Caleb Hyles

Egotistic by Mamamoo (Red Moon)

Into The Unknown (Panic! At the Disco Version) by Panic! At The Disco

Never Alone by Divide Music

Zero To Hero (From "Hercules") by Ariana Grande

My R (feat. Rachie & Hiakno Station) by Annapantsu

Ever had a poem or song written about you: Yuuuppp and it was awkward as hell cause it was by a chick that I didn’t know/didn’t feel comfortable around. it wasn’t like overtly romantic or anything in nature but it was just...weird.

When was the last time you played air guitar: air guitar, air drums, air keyboard, I play the whole air band and I don't do it well! I dance and wiggle and can't stay still ever if im feeling a song

Who is your celebrity crush?: too many to name tbh. jason mamoa, henry cavill, zendaya?

What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?: I hate so many sounds, its not even funny. its super common for me to be over stimulated first by noise and then visually. currently, anything squeaky or shrieky really grinds my gears. Aya's grandma has a rocking armchair that is killing me the last month. When Rocky, my bro in law's cockatiel shrieks, it sounds like an alarm and it grates on me bad.

a sound I love is rain or water, thunder storms are hit or miss, some times they're soothing but other times, its too much for me. but the sound of running water is super soothing to me, probably cause its low and repetitive. also bass thumping

Do you believe in ghosts?: Ye, my mom's side of the family is very religious/superstitious so i grew up believing and knowing that you had to be respectful of all surroundings/spaces cause you're not the only occupant, living or dead. i'm not scared of ghosts but im terrified of death

How about aliens: yeah, we're not the only ones out there, but i dont believe all the little green men abduction stories. aliens have better shit to do.

Do you drive?: I have my learner's permit

if so have you ever crashed: i've been in multiple crashes, no serious injuries. but one of my childhood friends that i dearly loved died in a fatal crash and it made me terrified of cars right when i was learning to drive so that's why i dont have my license

What was the last book you read?: *opens kindle app* Uhhh just today? Flicker by M. Sinclair (book 2 in a series)

Do you like the smell of gasoline:  no nope nah nada.

What was the last movie you saw?: not by choice, some horror canada slasher that Aya's mema had on tv this morning. idk the name.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: as a kid, my knee was kicked out in a soccer match when i was in middle school, it made me tip backwards, skid ten feet on muddy field, slam my shoulder into the goal post and almost pass out. i still have joint issues in my knees and right shoulder.

as an adult, i was bit by an older dog at work. he clamped down twice on my right elbow, right on the joint/bone. i had to got to the ER, it was pretty gruesome and I still have some nerve issues in the area from it. was super lucky not to have a serious infection from it. i shouldn't have worked for a few weeks but i went back after a week cause the company i worked at was so toxic.

Do you have any obsessions right now?: at this very moment, making sure my younger dog doesn't chew his stitches out. i had to put my headphones on so i stopped fixating on him.

i've also been working on a few plot ideas for a book rn though. its hard to find time for that with work and everything though.

[fromedennn]

Hey! I saw on one of your posts that you use your Kindle to read your textbooks. I was just wondering how this compares to reading on a laptop/ipad, why you do it or the pros/cons etc

basically just wanted to hear your thoughts on it since it’s something i’ve always considered, but didn’t know if it would end up being less convenient than how i read for uni now. thank u!!

hi hi!! this is actually a super interesting question because this is my first time using my kindle to read one of my textbooks. i opted to rent the textbook on kindle because it was the cheapest option (as opposed to through my university), and then i wanted to see how it would turn out on my paperwhite, since that’s my favorite device to use the kindle app on. i don’t have an ipad, and quite frankly i don’t like reading online textbooks on my computer. reading it on my kindle makes it super easy to transport and access, and it makes me feel like i’m reading a book vs reading that giant textbook. additionally, the formatting wasn’t lost in the same way i had been prepared for, which was a pleasant surprise. one con though is that it’s black and white, so if the graphs or diagrams are super important, it’s a bit challenging to depend only on the kindle. also, and this is something i dislike about all online textbooks, you can’t really flip through it in the same way that i would find helpful to do with the physical version.

overall though, i’d say i’ve had a positive experience with it! and it makes me feel like i’m getting good use out of my kindle haha. if you’ve been wanting to do it but have been hesitant, i’d say try it out for a quarter/semester!

i hope this was helpful, lmk if you do end up trying it out :)

[trollprincess]

Let me explain to you all why this is the greatest fucking day of my life.

First, I’ll explain what that doll is, for anyone too young to know what it is. That is a Cabbage Patch Doll. It’s not like a regular baby Cabbage Patch Doll, it’s some special sort of Cabbage Patch Doll that really doesn’t matter. What matters is who had it all this time. Cabbage Patch Dolls were *incredibly* popular around 1983-1986 or so, to the point where if you go on YT and search for them, you can very easily find news footage of adults going bugfuck in stores trying to get one of these for their kids.

The important thing is not what it is, or even what type it is. It’s WHO had it.

So I was about six or seven when these got big. I had a cousin Erica a year younger, and another cousin Danielle a year younger than that. And naturally we ALL wanted Cabbage Patch Dolls. At the very least, I know I eventually got one. And I did what every kid did with theirs. I loved it into the fucking ground. I played with it, I got it dirty, my grandma made it little outfits. I’m sure my cousins got theirs as well, since our grandma spoiled us all and they were only children, so either our grandma or their parents more than likely got them one.

BUT.

Aunt Phyllis was our great-aunt. She wasn’t married, she had no kids, so we were used to Aunt Phyllis giving us whatever we wanted. And we weren’t bad kids or greedy kids, we didn’t ask for anything extravagant. Aunt Phyllis took us for car rides and played old novelty songs like “The Streak” and “My Ding-a-Ling” and bought us ice cream. She was fun.

But she has always been one of those people who gets caught up in “this collectible will be worth something someday.” Beanie Babies, DVDs, etc. She didn’t have a lot of money, but she’d always find some to spend on those sorts of things. At one point in recent years, she had several iPads because she would buy the newest version but keep the old one, and then use one for email and another for Facebook and another for games and another for Kindle.

Anyway, when you’re six, you don’t understand “this collectible will be worth something in the future.” You understand Aunt Phyllis loves you, and always gets you stuff, and never says no.

So one day I go over to her house for a sleepover (we would stay in the twin beds in her room and we’d watch “Misfits of Science”) and I see THEM. *Six* Cabbage Patch Dolls. SIX. Two newborns and four regular Cabbage Patch Dolls, all set up and displayed on a table at the top of the stairs. (In front of a large window where they’d get a lot of sun and fade and depreciate, but I didn’t even think about that until years later.) Six Cabbage Patch Dolls, at a time when so many people could hardly get ONE.

I looked up at my great-aunt who gave me anything and asked in awe, “Can I have one?”

And my aunt looked back and said, “No.”

She also told me I couldn’t touch them. In fact, none of us could touch them. We were just supposed to ignore them. And I mean … I was six. Erica was five, Danielle was four. Are you serious? I can’t even look at them?

And, like, part of it was they sold these things as babies. They were *real*. They came with birth certificates and everything. So leaving them sitting there in the box all alone with no one to play with them … it made me sad. It made me sad for YEARS. I would occasionally be reminded of Cabbage Patch Dolls, and every time I did I thought of those lonely dolls sitting in Aunt Phyllis’s house and I’d get sad.

I’m sure eventually she gave them away or sold them or something, but having one of *Aunt Phyllis’s* dolls was the dream. I do think part of it was so rarely being told no as a kid, but also that taunt of “you can’t touch them or have them or look at them, they’re just THERE.” That was the holy grail of my childhood.

Cut to now, forty years later. I am a grown-ass woman. My Aunt Phyllis is in her eighties and has been having some health issues, so my parents and cousins are helping her move into senior living apartments in town. This means cleaning out her house, which understandably has a mountain of stuff in it. (It’s not on “Hoarders” levels, but it’s cluttered.)

My mom texts me and says, “Your aunt can’t take a lot of this stuff with her when she moves. Is there anything you’d like?” I said there are two things I’d be open to taking - books (another thing my aunt used to collect), and a Cabbage Patch Doll, if she had any of them left.

Last week, my mom goes, “Come up the house, I have something for you.”

AND THERE SHE WAS.

She is out of the box. I’m not putting her back in. She’s been in a closet for *forty years*. I am going to take this doll and love it until it *falls the fuck apart*. I’m going to get it dirty. I’m going to let the dog play with it. I’m going to make up for four decades of this poor thing not having a little girl to love it by being the big girl who loves it.

And I’m changing her name to something awesome. Like Carrie Fucking Fisher.

[jonmcbrine-author]

Unsecret Identity: Eric Icarus - Book One is now available in print as a paperback edition, but it was a rocky road getting there. The ebook Kindle edition was released close to a year ago, and at the time of the initial digital launch, I knew that a print version would follow. What I was not aware of, though, was just how long it would take to make the paperback.

Ideally, I would have preferred to have released the hardcover and ebook editions simultaneously, with a paperback version shortly after. Also in this perfect world, I would already have the audiobook version ready to go. Here in reality, however, it’s a DIY operation that takes time - with production rates that rival geologic ages in speed (or the lack thereof). From writing, editing, designing the cover, and finally to illustrating the interior art, finishing the book has been a gradual and often times frustrating process. Ultimately, though, releasing the print edition, to go along with the Kindle version, has been greatly rewarding.

Hardcover and audiobook editions are in the pipeline, but as I’ve said, it will simply take time. On top of this one full-length novel, I am writing other stories while committing to other personal, day-to-day engagements. For those who are interested in this first book, I thank you and want you to know how exciting it is to see people enjoy the story.

As stated above, the paperback journey was rough. In addition to simply spending hours and hours formatting the new edition and all the curveball lessons that entailed, there was getting more familiar with Amazon itself. Specifically, the Kindle Direct Publishing online book manager. Indie authors know KDP well, and even though it has Kindle in the name, this web-based program covers all available formats. Prior to uploading my manuscript to KDP, I, of course, used Microsoft Word (and Google Docs here and there) to actually write the content, the book itself. Once the text was edited, it was time to fire up the Adobe suite of design programs including Illustrator, Photoshop, and InDesign. As a graphic designer, I already possessed a working knowledge of using these programs, but formatting a full-length manuscript required a few rounds of further self-education.

Creating more drawings for the interior art delayed completion but eventually everything got done. I posted with excitement about the paperback release date and even took additional precautions the night before the big day to ensure there would be no hiccups. Then KDP dropped a huge LOB on me: Learning Opportunity Bomb. The launch date came but the printed book did not. When you submit something via KDP, the review process time can vary, but for me it is typically around a day. So, when I resubmitted the PDF of my manuscript, I would wake up to an email informing me of whether or not my latest version made the cut.

This took about a week. What was intended to be released on a Monday didn’t go live until that Friday. The recurring error message involved images/text not being completely within the “live” area of the margins. This means that the central portion of the page, within guidelines, is what the content should be in. Only two pages repeatedly earned me these error strikes, and it baffled me as to why. The printed proof copy I ordered came out nearly perfect.

I had images that purposely extended beyond the live area, as well as the trim, which is considered to be the edges of the physical sheet of paper. My artwork even went beyond the bleed, the safety cutoff borders. While imagery that takes up the width of a page is common, Amazon seemingly wants content to be within the appropriate lines. This was fine by me, and I even liked how it made things more consistent throughout the book, but as a designer, it left me confused and embarrassed. The humiliation did not last long as I was happy to simply understand the problem.

With the issue resolved, the paperback was launched and I received my own copy and it is perfection. After a dismal week of awaiting the crucial judgment from KDP, the book gets a new life in the printed world. And I can breathe a little easier.

In a city of heroes with super-suits, fourteen-year-old Eric’s powers are the real deal—he can fly, or rather, he must. He literally can’t stop. As if high school wasn’t hard enough.

Order your paperback copy or read the digital version on your Kindle ereader device, the Kindle web browser, or in the Kindle app on your phone or tablet.

Stay in the loop for more details by following Jonfiction Blog on Substack and be sure to check out jonmcbrine.com for more info about this and all my books.

Unsecret Identity: Eric Icarus - Book One is available now from Amazon.

https://a.co/2XAtxvH

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