#yearly recognition

[metamorphmigus]

Hello and well met! Meta here to give everyone a little heads up! This month marks my third year posting my art online for everyone to enjoy! It has been a journey, boy I tell ya. Much growth has been made from when I first began. I've worked on many projects and made many friends along the way.

To commemorate the accomplishment, and because I love having excuses to do things a little different, I wanted to extend a loving hand to my mutuals and fellow artists. I'm opening myself up to you, as you undoubtedly have for me, with an open invitation for colabs!

If you've always wanted to create something together, now is the perfect time! I'm willing to work with you to make beautiful art! Have an idea you've always wanted to do, but didn't know how/when to ask? Now's your time! Hit me up either in the ask box, or dm me directly! Not sure what to make, but still want to participate? That's totally ok! I'm down to workshop/brainstorm an idea that get's us both inspired!

I'll be accepting colab projects throughout the month of November, but I'm not going to put a deadline on them getting completed. This is partly because I don't have any idea how many I'll get and I want to make sure I give each one the loving attention it deserves. Don't worry tho, I'll be keeping in touch with whoever I'm working with so we stay in the loop on the pieces' progress.

Anyways, thank you for your time and support. You've made these last three years fly by.

Metamorphmigus

[lillazyboithings]

hiiii

just wanted to pop in !

hope you've been well :D

also, your lil tag rambles make me so happy hehe

-🌈

Omg 🌈!! Great to see u again :3!!

And yeah, I've been doing well, though, just nervous about seeing my batchmates again tomorrow.

And thanks :DD! I'm glad they make u happy, I just really love rambling in general, especially in tags hehehe

[throughdoegaze]

How to start over

Starting over doesn’t have to be overwhelming. Here’s how you can do it:

۶ৎ Redefining your “why”

What matters to you now? What have you outgrown? Remember that If you have the idea you’re already capable of it.

۶ৎ Forgive yourself

Reflect, reflect, reflect, then let go of the guilt. Remember that even tho you failed, it was a step towards understanding yourself better.

۶ৎ Focus on one thing

Put your energy on one thing to begin with. Put your energy there instead of spreading yourself too thin.

۶ৎ Focus on today

Ask yourself: “Whats one thing I can do today to move forward?”

۶ৎ Plan, but start smaller

Break an overwhelming goal into micro-goals. Daily, monthly and yearly.

۶ৎ Detach from perfection

Accept that your days or work don’t have to look perfect. Progress thrives in a little chaos.

۶ৎ Celebrate small wins

Progress, no matter how small, deserves recognition.

[belovedmusings]

Lay me down tonight.

Explicit Smut 18+ 🚫Minors DNI🚫

You were loyal to your boyfriend, Megumi, before you met his estranged father at the yearly family get-together. The second you met Toji, however, the righteous and innocent person you were died, and in their place, an insatiable monster was born. Toji ruined you, and even now, you keep allowing him to ruin you, all behind Megumi’s back.

Relevant tags: shameless smut, infidelity, cheating, Toji is rough and dominant, Megumi is clueless, reader are a good liar, reader is a little depraved, everyone addresses you without the usage of “y/n” for better immersion, Megumi is aged up so that you’re both of age, ‘cause we are not gonna have Toji catchin’ a case up in here, that said, age gap between reader & Toji, minimal gendered language though reader is AFAB, Toji is a horrible father

Recommended songs while reading: older (Isabel LaRosa), Unholy (Hey Violet), Fucked My Way Up To The Top (Lana Del Rey)

A/N: infidelity is NOT the answer but this is a lil smut just for funsies so enjoy!

Read below the cut:

You remember exactly how it had first happened. It was a year ago.

You were meeting tons of Megumi’s family members at once, flying through greetings to cousins and aunts and uncles and distant cousins and great-grandparents—no one stood out to you until he showed up.

The large hotel banquet room the Zenin family had rented out sort of got quiet as he walked in. Your eyes caught on him, and after he scanned the room, unbothered by the staring, his eyes zeroed in on you and Megumi.

He’d tilted his head to the side in interest and then made his way towards the two of you. You heard mumbles and whispers about him.

“He wasn’t invited,” Megumi muttered under his breath in annoyance.

“Who is that?” You whispered back.

“He’s…well, I wouldn’t call him—”

“What are we whispering about?” The burly man said loudly, now in front of you. He looked amused and completely shameless. Now that you had seen him up close, he looked sort of familiar.

“I was just wondering who you were,” you told him, looking around. The family was watching with various degrees of surprise and disdain. The man laughed haughtily.

“Oh, I see. Megumi didn’t tell you who I was?” He asked with a salacious grin. “He didn’t tell me who you are, either. You’re holding out on us both, Megumi.”

Your boyfriend huffed beside you. “That man is technically my father.”

Your lips parted in recognition. That made sense. You’d heard a little bit about him, enough to know he’s a dead-beat and that Megumi never speaks to him nor gets along with him. The family doesn’t like him as a whole.

“What are you doing here?” Asked Megumi with narrowed eyes.

“Relax,” the man chuckled, leaning against a chair. “I just came to see my dear family.”

“You weren’t invited.”

The man just held his wolfish grin on his face. “I don’t care.”

His steel gray eyes found yours, and he raised a brow. “Now, I still don’t know who you are.”

You introduced yourself, along with your relationship to Megumi, and the man hummed. “Well, it looks like Megumi has good taste. The name’s Toji. It’s very nice to meet you.”

He gave you an unconcealed appraisal and it made you feel hot. Megumi scowled.

“Don’t overstep a boundary,” he spit at his father, arm winding around your waist in attempt to intimidate.

The longer you looked at Toji, the more you realized how hot he was. He seemed so buff his muscles were practically bursting through the black t-shirt he had on. He was tall too. So tall. And his dark hair fell in layered strands around his ears and chin—his face was handsome as hell, too. You could tell where Megumi got his looks from. He smirked at you with all of the confidence in the world. He was like a more mature, more experienced version of your boyfriend.

He was really attractive.

“‘Course not,” Toji grinned, rolling his eyes. He’s amused. “I just wanted to greet my son. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“Please do.”

Please don’t, you thought, but he turned on his heel and walked towards some other family members, already starting to talk at them instead.

Megumi sighed heavily. “Damn bastard. I had hoped you never had the displeasure of meeting him.”

The pleasure is all mine, you truthfully thought to yourself.

You felt a bad desire growing inside of you, and it wasn’t long before what you wanted came to fruition.

You and Megumi had had to travel to get to the family reunion. As such, you were staying in the hotel they booked the venue in for one night before you went back home.

You were restless, and Megumi was sound asleep in bed. You’d never been to this area, so you figured you’d walk around the hotel, maybe get some melatonin from the convenience shop on the first level to help you sleep. Truthfully, you hadn’t stopped thinking about Toji and how hot he was. You wondered where he went. You and Megumi had left the reunion a little early because he was tired, and you hadn’t seen him again after your brief meeting.

You slipped on some sweatpants and a crewneck before putting your slides on and leaving a note for Megumi in case he woke up.

‘Went to get melatonin and maybe a snack. Be back soon.’

With that, you slipped out of the hotel room and walked down the hallway. It was the middle of the night, so you kept quiet, padding towards the elevator. You pressed the button to go down, and after a few moments, the doors slid open.

Your heart jumped into your throat.

Toji.

A grin instantly spread across his face. “Hey. Goin' somewhere?”

Your blood pounded through your veins as you entered the elevator. “Uh…I can’t sleep.”

“You can't?” He asked, putting a hand on his hip. Bluntly, he replied, “I can fix that.”

Your mouth went dry.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened next, but soon the two of you were stumbling into his hotel room a floor below yours, the door slamming and locking behind you as Toji took you into a bruising kiss. Your arms were wrapped around his neck the second he lifted you into his arms like a weightless pillow, tossing you down onto the hotel bed in the center of the room.

He kissed you again and it was like he was trying to eat you whole. The things he would murmur to you in between lip locks had your head spinning with guilty pleasure.

“Megumi don’t know how to treat you right.”

“I’ll bet he ain’t fuckin’ you properly.”

“I’ll show you how a real man does it.”

Each kiss, each word, each touch drew you closer to insanity. You both had your clothes off faster than you could comprehend, and Toji was spitting dirtily onto your mound, starting to rub circles into the pearl at the apex with flattened fingers.

You writhed beneath him as he scraped his teeth over your neck and chest, only stopping to lick the hand that was rubbing at you to coat it with more saliva before dipping it back down and slipping two fingers inside of you at once.

He finger-fucked you fast and hard.

Megumi never did that to you. Sex with him was always very vanilla and straightforward. Kissing counted as foreplay and then he was inside of you, always in missionary or sometimes spooning you from behind. That was it.

God, you had no idea sex could be this wild and mind-blowing.

You had cum on Toji’s fingers with a cry, not caring if the people next to you heard, and then he kept fucking you through it, adding a third finger and spitting over it again to get you loose and sloppy.

He had a giant cock. That was why he opened you up manually, because it would have done damage had he just fucked into you from the get-go.

When he did enter you, it still stretched you out past your limits, both impossibly thick and long, and you wondered how the hell anyone took a dick that big.

You quickly found out how.

He simply made you take it.

He held you up by your hips, suspending your lower half with the strength of his arms while he pounded into you. You could hardly even recognize your own voice. It was reaching pitches you’d never heard from yourself before, sounding so debauched and wanton you’d think he found some hooker off the street and paid her to moan like a porn star.

You swore you could feel his cock in your womb. With how big he is, you wouldn’t doubt it.

“Megumi doesn’t have a damn clue,” he had grinned to himself, looking at you as he split you open repeatedly. “Sleepin’ like a little bitch while his daddy takes care of you for him.”

You moaned loudly. “Toji…”

“That’s right,” he praised, “Whose cock is inside you right now?”

“Yours, oh—yours…”

“Say my name,” he growled, slapping your mound. You jolted, shivering at the harsh pleasure it gave you.

“Toji,” you mewled, scratching at the bed comforter. He was fucking you hard enough you knew you were going to cum from brute force alone.

“You belong to me now,” he told you. “You’re mine.”

That had sent you over.

“Oh my god!” It was a shout as you orgasmed, creaming all over his cock and onto the bed. He groaned deeply, shoving himself in harshly as he emptied his load inside of you, squeezing your hips so tightly they bruised.

When he’d pulled out, he watched his own seed drip from inside of you, sucking in a breath.

“You should do something about that,” he said. “Unless you wanna give your boyfriend a sibling.”

You shivered. Toji really didn’t give a shit about his son.

At that point, you knew you couldn’t pretend like you had any moral high ground either. You slept with your boyfriend’s dad. You cheated willingly. There was no sugar-coating it.

You had limped your way back to your room and cleaned up in the bathroom, falling asleep next to a still-sleeping, oblivious Megumi.

What’s worse is that a year later you’re still going back for more.

You and Megumi are still together.

He has no clue about Toji, and you want to keep it that way. The two of you barely mention him. He only talked about him the day after you met him once to say that he left when he was seven and never bothered to return.

You hide your affair like it’s your job. So much so that now you’re on birth control. Beforehand Megumi had just been fine with condoms, never making a fuss about them. Toji, as you had quickly found out, doesn’t like them. The largest available size is too small, he had told you, and besides that fact he likes feeling you bare. He doesn’t bother to pull out either, so not wanting to risk pregnancy as well as not wanting to spend fortunes on emergency contraceptives like you had the first time, you just get on birth control instead. You also only ever meet Toji at his place, since you know Megumi doesn’t know where he lives and you currently live with your boyfriend. Having Toji over could easily end awfully. You don’t take chances.

Tonight, you’re seated in Toji’s lap at his apartment. Megumi is away on a business trip, and you’ve been staying at Toji’s place for the past few nights. You’ve had so much sex you can barely think straight, at this point. Since you walked in he was on you, and you’ve christened every surface in his small apartment. The doorway, the living room, the wall of the hallway, the bedroom, the bathroom shower, bent over the sink, the kitchen counter, the table, too…everywhere is free reign.

Right now, you’re facing away from Toji, back to his chest while he bounces you on his cock, burly hands clamped down on your wrists to keep you upright and prevent you from falling forward.

The lewd wet slap of your bodies connecting, his heavy breathing and groans as well as the desperate gasps you keep giving him are all you hear. You two hadn’t even managed to turn the television on before he pulled you in and slipped inside, only his t-shirt and nothing else on you giving him easy access to what he wanted.

Every time your body collides with his, his tip kisses your cervix and it gives you a jolt of pleasure. He’s so deep inside it feels like he’s rearranging your guts.

Then, from his slow and hard pace he suddenly switches up and starts ramming into you harshly, punching mewls from your throat.

“Toji!” You gasp, “Oh god, Toji!”

Your knees are bent and your legs are tucked under them, split apart by his own, and if he wasn’t holding you up right now you’d face-plant right into the floor. The danger and the trust it involves has your head spinning. How did you get here? This isn’t who you used to be—but you wouldn’t go back and stop yourself if you could. It’s too good.

He’s too good.

His right hand is clamping down on your neck from behind abruptly, other hand switching to your waist, wrapping around the front to forcibly arch your back, and you gasp as your air gets restricted, cock getting deeper inside with the new angle.

“Toji,” you rasp, hands covering both of his wrists just to hold onto something as the force of his thrusts start forcing an orgasm through your system. You sputter, body spasming as it begins to take over, building from the spot his tip keeps hammering and undulating through every one of your nerves, yanking a high-pitched whine from your compressed vocal chords. “Toji!”

You tighten around him as you finish, mouth falling open, eyelids fluttering as your vision unfocuses, covering his cock on your essence. He groans deeply, letting your neck go and instead pulling you flush against his chest, pressing your hips down as far as they can go so he can pump his load into you.

With a few sloppy thrusts, he’s cumming, coating your walls in what must be the millionth round this week. He groans deeply into your ear, keeping you pushed down on him, sensitive length throbbing inside of you with the aftershocks.

You then feel his rough lips dragging over your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to any skin he can touch, his heavy breaths fanning over your flesh hotly.

“So good for me,” his voice is hoarse and fucked out, and it makes your stomach flutter. Sex with your boyfriend is never this intimate—you’re never pushed to your limits. Toji does it every time and then praises you when you’ve pleased him. It’s so addictive.

You turn your face towards him and he covers your lips with his own, initiating a messy make out session that only ends when you need air. If you didn’t require oxygen, you’d have loved to keep Toji’s tongue in your mouth forever—you think that it could be your only form of sustenance if you had your way.

“When’s he comin’ back again?” Asks Toji. You draw in a breath to steady yourself. It takes you a moment to think.

“Two days from now.”

“Good,” his grin is beastlike. “I get to keep you longer.”

You grin, nodding, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. The position is a little uncomfortable though, so you end it quickly, pulling off of him.

He grabs your hips and turns you around, staring at you with dark eyes.

“Who said you could get off?” He asks, and you take a look at him, noticing that he’s half-hard again already. His stamina is seriously unmatched.

Before you can reply, he pulls you back towards him, this time your chest to his.

“I’m nowhere near done with you,” he says, and it’s done in such a way that you sort of feel like Little Red Riding Hood about to be devoured by the Big Bad Wolf—it thrills you.

And you’ll continue to go back for more.

—-

A/N: MAPPA better whore Toji out like they’ve done for Satoru, Kento, and Choso next week or istg

Please don’t repost or translate but feel free to reblog & share!

[angstober]

Welcome to another year of Angstober! We're delighted to unveil the prompts for this year of angsty, spooky fun.

What is Angstober?

Angstober is a yearly October challenge with 31 angst-themed prompts to inspire you to create. The challenge is open to all sorts of creative work - writing, art, edits, whatever you want - in whatever medium you want. Original work or fanworks? Whatever you feel inspired for!

How do I take part?

Tag your works with #angstober2023 and the day of the prompt (e.g., #day 01) to share on tumblr. Feel free to @ us directly in the post as well! To share your work on AO3, add it to the Angstober 2023 collection.

You can post your works whenever - early or late - and use as many or as few prompts as you feel inspired for! We'll do our best to reblog as many works to the @angstober blog as we can.

Is there a banner to post my work with?

Absolutely!

Anything else?

Nope. Happy Angsting!

Angstober 2023 Prompt List:

Honorbound

Anxiety

A Dangerous Gamble

"I want to believe you."

Dried and Cracked

"What's wrong?"

Attacked

Dark Days

The Catch

Can't Go Home

Beyond Recognition

On Your Own

From Childhood

What You Swore To Destroy

Lessons in Failure

Wake Up Call

Weakness

"But I love you."

Look Away

Just Breathe

Can't Save Everyone

Grasp

Crimes of Passion

Taught You Better

Tired of Fighting

The Day I Lost You

System Collapse

Face the Consequences

Almost

Full Circle

Won't Forget

[stareaterau]

Chapter 1 episode 3

←Previous episode

Next episode→

Index

---

Let's see if these two have murdered each other yet

CW: injury, blood, violence

Read below↓

Or AO3

"You're that bird person from the alleyway."

In front of Scar, the familiar stranger stands motionless and quiet, framed by the striated walls of the ravine. Despite having placed their weapon back in its sheath, they still look as if they’re on edge. Their body is tightly wound, their wings held out slightly, in a subtle effort to make their form larger, combating Scar's height. At their side, their taloned hands hang, fidgeting restlessly.

Scar shuffles awkwardly under his piercing gaze, growing more uncomfortable by the second. His reflection stares back at him from the deep, black voids of their eyes. At first, Scar had thought that they were utterly black, but, looking now, he can see the slight edge of brown circling his wide pupils, the bright sun casting an almost purple sheen across their surface. They’re quite pretty, he muses, as he waits for the other's response. He rocks on his heels, grimacing slightly at the deep ache setting into his legs and the soles of his feet.

Growing impatient at the silence, Scar reaches out, tempting fate by waving his hand in front of the bird's face. Nothing. The stranger continues to stare at Scar, unblinking. The only sign of recognition he can decipher is the slightest flicker of his feathers as they bristle at the proximity. Scar huffs, disappointed at his failure to evoke a reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have big, creepy eyes?”

That manages to break him out of his stoic stare. He splutters awkwardly, gawking, an incredulous look crossing his face. He looks away, embarrassed.

“Ah hah! You looked away, I won the staring contest!” Scar grins triumphantly.

“I wasn't- what? I was just processing-” The stranger doesn’t return the disarming gesture, their mouth a thin line. Their arms clank softly against each other as he crosses them. Scar hadn’t gotten a good look at them before. He’d thought that they had just been wearing a long, black undershirt at first, but there’s no mistaking the dark metallic casing and wiring of the robotic prosthetics.

“Imagine the chances we’d ever meet again, huh?” Scar grins wildly, stepping forward with as open a demeanour as he can muster, pretending he’s meeting an old friend. He almost is, in a messed up way.

The stranger doesn’t return this warm gesture either. Instead, he frowns at Scar, a multitude of emotions unsuccessfully masked as they cross his face. His gaze flickers up to meet Scar’s eyes before something scared or sorrowful flashes in him, directing the strangers' eyes to their feet instead. Their expression now hides behind their tangled hair as it falls across his face. He searches for the right words, but they die on his tongue. Shaking his head, he resets his expression, carefully masking any unwanted emotion. Finally, he looks back at Scar with a soft yet concerned smile.

“I- I couldn't- I sorta thought I killed you that night.”

“Oh… OH! I'm like a ghost to you!” Scar raises his hands in a mock scary gesture, making a low ‘ooo’ sound to do his best imitation of one. It would put everyone else’s attempts to shame at the yearly Vindicators' spaceween party, he thinks smugly. He’s sure his attempts to lessen the tension between his evidently awkward company and himself is working. It always works… or it works sometimes at least… Actually, this might be the first time he’s been able to get this far.

Unamused, the stranger raises an eyebrow. “Well not so much anymore- you'd be a pretty bad ghost if I could’ve tackled you that easily.”

“Ah- that's no fair. You have wings… and I don’t have the ability to turn incorporeal, yet.”

“Mm-hm.” The stranger hums, shifting as they drag their taloned feet through the sand, etching grooves in the grainy surface. Scar pauses, racking his brain for a response, desperately not wanting to lose the traction on the conversation he had just gained. If he lets the stranger shut himself off now, he’ll have to do all the work to get him to open up again. Scar doesn’t want the only sounds in this empty desert to be himself and the whistle of wind through sandstone tunnels.

“My name is Scar, by the way.”

The stranger turns his attention back to Scar. Pausing, as if they’re expecting there to be more to that statement. They frown, not looking convinced.

“Is that a nickname, or just an unfortunate coincidence?” They ask, tentatively, like they’re trying to avoid saying something to offend Scar.

“Hah! Wouldn't you like to know!”

That, out of everything, gets a laugh. However, the stranger quickly tries to disguise it behind a fake cough, burying his face in his arm. Scar smirks, satisfied by the other's reaction, ignoring a twinge of pain from the knife wound in his shoulder.

They look back to Scar, a more playful expression creeping its way onto their face. “…Yes, that is the nature of a question.”

Their wings slowly lower back into a more natural position, the muscles relaxing— not muscles, his wings look robotic, too. They’re covered in feathers, but they’re held up and moved by a metal armature where the bone should be. For a second, Scar wonders how much of their body remains untouched by metalwork.

Regardless, Scar just beams at him, revelling in his ability to make them laugh. Happy with his ability to lessen their agitation, he makes no indication of wanting to answer the question.

The stranger chuckles awkwardly at the silence and shrugs.

“Heh… well, my name's Grian.”

“Oh! That name really suits you.”

“Thanks?”

Scar watches as they pick up their helmet off the ground, shaking it gently to knock out the sand. They clip the helmet to their belt and turn away from Scar, walking off in the direction Scar had been headed earlier.

“Where are you going?” He calls out at him.

“I- We-” Scar catches the way Grian corrects himself, hoping that means his new friend has decided not to try attacking him again, “-should get moving to somewhere with more cover. It's getting darker.”

“Wh- how could you even tell that? It feels like the whole sky is just the sun.”

To emphasise his point, Scar stands up straighter, turning his gaze to the sky to try and pinpoint the sun within the harsh light. After a moment, he shields his eyes from the glare with his hand. Another moment later, unsuccessful, Scar lowers his gaze. He blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes, trying to lose the blurry afterimage that stays behind and plagues his vision. Grian looks away from Scar, an unreadable, mostly uncomfortable expression on his face. He flexes his wings, shaking his feathers out, then strides away.

Scar realises he’s falling behind. He catches up hastily, coughing up an air of responsibility to match Grian’s. They are a ‘we’ after all.

Scar is honestly glad for Grian's company. He provides a familiar face, even if he is a familiar face he met only briefly… and a familiar face that promptly tried to kill him upon reuniting. At least Scar doesn’t feel like he has to pretend to be serious around him— Grian has that handled for the both of them. Although, Scar is certainly going to do his best to break through the birds' cold facade. “So, are we heading in any particular direction?”

Grian shakes his head, before realizing he should elaborate.

“I can fly up and scout out a direction later, but not now. Right now, I'd like to find a spot to rest.”

He stretches his wings out fully, the feathers bristling as the hinges make a soft rattling whine. Scar marvels at the impressive wingspan. He’s never seen wings quite this big before.

“You were flying a lot?” Scar watches them, intrigued. They don’t look like elytra, despite their metal parts, and Grian has far more control over them than even an experienced user. Elytra also don’t tend to come feathered like his— his look jarringly realistic. Maybe he’s an avian?

Scar’s never actually seen an avian before, though that’s not out of the ordinary. Most people haven’t. Could robotic enhancements be commonplace amongst them? Scar is somewhat familiar with enhancements, they’d even been offered to him once, but he’d declined, opting for the less invasive options. Mechanically enhancing what were once organic wings is the only option Scar can think of that matches Grian’s capabilities. That must be what he is, Scar concludes. Though, he pictured avians being taller.

“Yes,” Grian replies bluntly, his tone changing noticeably at the subject.

“Do you have an enderchest?” Scar inquires instead, searching for topics that aren’t sore spots.

Grian whips his head up to look at Scar, a bewildered expression spreading across his face.

“...What? No.”

“Dang it.” Scar sighs.

“Why would you want an enderchest?” He asks, growing curious after the initial surprise.

“I lost mine. It has some pretty important things in it that I need.” Scar hums, looking down at his scratched leg braces. They’re starting to creak under the strain of walking for so long. If Grian had one, he could use it to access his stuff. He really could do with his cane, or anything that can ease the stress on his braces. Grian follows Scar’s gaze, a particularly strained expression returning to his face. Scar frowns at how he almost looks guilty.

“I know you’re a Vindicator and everything,” Grian makes an effort to maintain the current topic and hide the distaste in his tone as he eyes Scar’s neat, albeit dusty, uniform. Scar isn’t surprised by Grian’s opinion on Vindicators. Grian was wanted by them when they had first met, but he at least has the decency to swap his tone out for a more apologetic one towards the end. “Enderchests aren't as common as you think. It might be a while till you can get to one.”

“...Really?”

“Yup.”

“Do you know where we are, then?” Scar quizzes, taking note of Grian's phrasing.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don't know where we are, or how I got here. You're the first person I've seen.”

Grian looks away, pausing to calculate his answer. His hard-won casual demeanour bleeds back into his previous defensive apathy. “We're in the same boat, I have no idea.”

Scar watches him, sure that Grian is holding something back. There’s something he doesn’t want Scar to know. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. Pressing him on it would probably just push the avian further away. The last thing Scar wants to do is push away the only person he’s seen for miles, especially when that person seems to know more than what they let on. He chooses to stay quiet. He’s anxious to avoid agitating the bird further. He still has a weapon, and Scar is rather fond of the idea of not finding himself on the other end of it again.

Silence falls over the two, the only sound coming from their steady footfalls meeting the sandy ground, and the whistle of wind through the caverns. Eventually, his worry about Grian shutting him out completely resurfaces, but he isn’t sure what to say.

“So… got a favourite animal?”

“You have an awful way of being chummy with your would-be murderer.” Grian titters.

“I wouldn't call you that.”

“Still.” he shrugs, unconvinced.

“I don't think you were trying to kill me. At least not the first time.”

Abruptly, Grian stills, his feathers bristling.

“And about today- I'm not dead, and you’re not in the process of killing me, see?” Scar carries on. Grian turns away sharply, but Scar is undeterred.

“You're a pretty unsuccessful murderer, if you are one. I've put myself in more danger on purpose than you’ve put me in on accident.” Scar barks out a laugh, but receives no response. Grian's face hides behind his cheek feathers and hair.

“You don't know me,” Grian replies flatly.

“But I'd like to.”

Scar tilts his head, stepping in front of the bird, trying to get a read on his face. They lock eyes only briefly. Grian’s eyes are wide, his brow furrowed, and his face contorted by a frown.

“Anddd- we have time-” Scar adds more gently, “You said you wanted to rest.”

“What if my kind of rest doesn't involve talking?” Grian retorts, tone still flat, but the slight lilt of amusement is unmistakable.

“Oh, well-”

Scar doesn’t get the chance to finish his thought. A shrill, distorted cry fills the sky above them.

Grian and Scar both turn on the spot, their heads snapping in the direction of the sound. Soaring above them is a colony of three familiar creatures. Bright green eyes lock onto them both.

“Are those-”

“Phantoms.” Grian finishes, his feathers standing on end, fluffing up reflexively.

“What are phantoms doing here?” Scar asks, searching Grian for any indication that he knows what’s going on, but the avian looks just as clueless. Phantoms shouldn’t be here. They are artificially manufactured creatures, used as surveillance drones and protection in big cities, or anywhere where the landowners are wealthy enough to afford them. Scar encountered many during his patrols in the capital of Vindicator territory. They definitely aren’t something you would find in the wilderness, let alone a desolate desert like this one. They don’t even count as wildlife, as they’re more robotic than organic. The last of the desert sun reflects off the metallic plating lining their backs as they twist and glide through the air. The bright lights of their eyes shine, harsh and cold, illuminating Scar and Grian with a green glow in the ever-darkening wasteland.

Grian grabs Scar's elbow and drags him towards the walls of the ravine.

“We need to hide!” He hisses. Scar, not arguing, follows him through the tighter passages of the caverns. Unfortunately, they don’t provide as much cover as they had hoped, the walls still far enough apart for the bat-like creatures to give chase. They dash into a covered tunnel, but they have already been spotted, the phantoms fly lower, circling.

As one of the creatures dives towards the entrance, Grian pushes Scar behind him and backs them both closer to the wall. Scar, taken aback by the sudden protectiveness, can only go along with it in a dumbfounded daze.

“Do you have a weapon on you?” Grian asks, quickly scanning him up and down.

Scar falters. “Uh- no.”

“What kind of Vindicator are you?” Grian raises his voice, pulling an expression somewhere between angry and amused.

“Hey! I didn't decide I wanted to be stranded without weapons- they've been taken.” Scar counters, a comically sad look on his face.

“What?” Genuine surprise plasters across Grian’s features. Another piercing shriek fills the air, interrupting him, as another phantom separates from the group and dives towards them.

Quickly, Grian turns back to face the danger. Spreading his wings out as far as they can go, he presses Scar into the sandy, stone wall. Scar splutters, feathers catching in his mouth. As delighted as he is that Grian is now deciding to protect him, Scar can’t help feeling defenceless as Grian takes their lives into his own hands.

“We are so screwed with one sword between us.” Scar complains hopelessly, pushing the feathers out of his face. The phantom barely misses them, metal slamming into soft rock with a clang, causing sand and debris to rain down over them. The creature flies back to regroup with the other two, hopefully with wounded pride. That is, assuming it’s even capable of feeling pride.

“It's also a gun,” Grian adds.

“It's also a gun!?!” Scar gasps, a plan formulating in his mind. “How!? Show me! A gun is way more useful!”

Utilising the advantage of being held so close to the avian, Scar reaches forward and grabs the sword out of its holster, unnoticed.

“No, that's a bad idea!” Grian cries as Scar ducks, slipping under Grian’s wing and sprinting ahead to the mouth of the cave.

As he raises the blue blade, Grian lets out a shrill yell. He lunges for Scar as the Vindicator inspects the weapon, prodding at the grooves for a button and thumping the hilt against his palm.

Scar clicks a button that looks like a trigger. The knife folds in on itself, clipping in place, and the blue blade shrinks as a portion of its energy is diverted to fill a small bar. That must signify the ammo, Scar hums to himself, pleased at this discovery.

"Don't shoot it!" Grian yells with surprising ferocity, but Scar can’t see an alternative. Grian reaches him, grabbing onto Scar’s injured shoulder. He bites down on his tongue, hard, to avoid flinching. Making use of his military training, he forces himself to push through the throbbing pain.

Grian quickly releases him, hissing in pain himself. Scar doesn’t take the time to find out what hurt the avian, instead scanning the phantoms as they twist in the air, preparing to dive again, excited that their prey has moved into the open. He aims, and fires.

The shot makes contact with a phantom just as it dives towards them, long metal claws spread wide and teeth bared as it shrieks. The bullet burrows into the soft, fleshy material on its lower jaw, embedding itself deep in the phantom's head. The creature's cry dies in its throat, its eyes flickering out. It tumbles to the ground, kicking up dust in front of Grian and Scar. Smoke billows out of the mouth of the creature, the bullet wound smouldering.

Scar hears a quiet “woah” from behind him.

“Ahah! Did you see that??” Scan grins, amazed that he actually hit it on his first try. Scar spins on the spot to face Grian, who blinks at him, mouth agape. Scar twirls the gun in his hand, the remaining blade shrinking as more power is diverted to refill the used ammo.

Grian huffs, regaining his composure, and scowls. “Well, I was looking straight at it, so yeah- and give me that!” He snatches his weapon back from Scar with a grunt.

The other two phantoms dive into the ravine. They move faster and more daringly, learning from the mistake of their fallen friend.

“Oh … oh no.” Scar whispers.

Grian unfolds the weapon, its blade noticeably smaller than its original size, and places it back into its holster. “See, I told you the gun is a bad idea! Ask before you waste someone's bullets!”

This time he makes a point of keeping his hand on its hilt, both to prevent Scar from trying to take it again, and to be ready to fend off the approaching phantoms if they get too close.

“There's only two now- I could just hit them again!” Scar argues, casting a panicked glance at the approaching creatures.

“That was pure luck- without bullets, I don’t have a blade, and without a blade, I'm without a weapon!” A dark tone infects Grian's words as he glares at Scar, who sighs defeatedly.

“Well, what else can we use? There's no other projectiles.” The phantoms scratch at the exit, waiting for either of them to get too close.

“I don't know, be creative with it!” Grian huffs hopelessly, his face taut with frustration.

“I could throw you.” Scar teases, eyeing up the shorter man to emphasize his joke. Grian just stares back at him with a deadpan expression, and Scar giggles to himself. Scar takes a small step towards the exit. Not too far, but it's enough that one of the phantoms spots them separate and focuses on him with a screech.

Grian shoves past Scar, who continues to giggle to himself, and reaches for the only other thing he has on him. Holding his helmet in his hand, he takes a full-bodied swing at the phantom clawing towards him, close enough to scrape against Grian’s arm. Metal cracks against metal as he hits the phantom, hard, and it’s flung back by the force. The creature rolls helplessly through the sand, metal plating creaking under the strain of the new dent. Grian inhales shakily, thankfully unharmed.

Scar lets out an alarmed cry, and Grian looks up in time to see the phantom regain its bearings. It shakes, sand flying off in every direction, and launches itself back into the air with a powerful flap of its wings. It circles a few times before swooping back down towards them, faster this time, its eyes blazing and its jaw wide and unhinged.

Grian panics. He makes an involuntary squawk and launches his helmet right at the injured phantom. The helmet collides with the phantom's head with a sickening crunch, and the phantom falls limply out of the air.

“Aha! I got it!” Grian shouts triumphantly. Scar cheers behind him, just as surprised that it worked.

Their celebrations are horribly timed. The final phantom wails and plummets towards them. They both throw themselves out of the way, only to watch it grab the helmet in its claws and retreat over the ravine walls, out of sight.

“Noooo!” Grian cries out, running hopelessly back into the ravine. He stretches his wing out, readying himself to take off after the phantom, but he hesitates. He decides against it, holding his head in his hands, groaning over the loss of his helmet.

“…. Well …at least it's gone now,” Scar says, walking up beside Grian, hoping to cheer him up a little. Grian just laughs, dejected.

Sighing, he looks up at the sky. The sun has almost entirely disappeared from view now, revealing a dark red sky. Grian yawns, stretching his arms over his head. He flinches as his wounded shoulder is pulled by the movement, and Scar yelps quietly to himself, his hand reaching for his own injured shoulder.

Grian turns to Scar, a tired look on his face. He eyes Scar’s jacket as he rubs at it absent-mindedly, the fabric stained from where Grian had stabbed him. Grian frowns, contemplating his next move.

He walks past Scar, his steps heavy on the sandy ground. Re-entering the cavern, he all but collapses onto the sandy ground. Exhaustion and pain catch up to him as the adrenaline from the fight wears off. Sand billows around him as Grian’s tail drags across the floor, curling around himself. He looks up at Scar, who hasn’t moved, hesitating over what to do while Grian makes himself comfortable.

“...Come here.” Grian instructs him, his expression softening.

“Okay?” Scar replies, and sits himself down next to the bird. Slumping against the wall, he lets out a sigh of relief, glad to finally be off his feet.

Looking at Grian, he expects him to move away, but the avian shuffles closer to him.

“Alright then, take off your jacket.” Grian taps Scar’s arm, directing him.

Scar complies, pulling his shirt over his head at the same time.

“Just your jacket!” Grian squawks, “You don't need-” he fumbles at Scar’s teasing grin.

“It's hot! Besides, it’s a perfect opportunity to show off my awesome pecs.” Scar flexes for added flare. The softness is gone from Grian’s face.

“I just need to get to your shoulder.”

“Oh- what are you doing?”

“Wound dressing, or it's gonna get infected.”

“You have healing supplies?” Scar raises an eyebrow.

Grian fixes Scar with a weird look. Of course he has healing supplies. He always has healing supplies. He was just hoping to save them for himself… Scar doesn’t need to know that, though.

“...Yea… I just- forgot.”

Digging into one of his trouser pockets, Grian pulls out a small box. He pulls open the latch, revealing a small collection of items inside. It’s nothing like the regeneration potions that the Vindicators are equipped with, but Scar recognises some small healing wipes and rolls of dressings.

Grian raises the wipes to clean up the now-dried blood. He inspects the wound— Scar’s lucky his blade didn’t go too deep or hit a bone. It just falls shy of being too wide to go without being stitched up. It still looks nasty though. Grian winces, looking up at Scar with an apologetic look. As gently as he can, he starts to clean the wound.

“Sorry about this… by the way.”

“It's alright.”

Grian carefully cleans and bandages Scar’s wound, while Scar sits and tries to think of jokes and bizarre questions to ask the avian. They never make it past his lips, though— he isn’t sure it’s a good idea when Grian is looking more and more guilty as he works, Grian’s gaze occasionally drifting to the scars covering the right side of his companion’s body. It isn’t hard for him to guess why they’re there. Scar doesn’t want to push Grian too hard on the subject in case he closes off from him again, and it’s awkward enough as it is.

Instead, Scar settles on a different, more genuine approach.

“You know, I forgive you.”

Grian's discomfort is immediate. Scar is close enough to watch as his feathers pin back against his head. The avian avoids Scar’s gaze, instead focusing solely on his wound. He knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“You shouldn't. That's not fair, I barely know you.” He frowns, his hands pausing over Scar’s shoulder.

“I know that! But, well, you looked a lot worse back then,” Scar explains, admiring the brightly coloured feathers covering Grian’s face and ears. He remembers how dull and grimy they looked two and a half years ago.

There’s a waiver in Grian's voice, a lump growing in his throat. “And I left you looking dead-”

“But it was an accident!” Scar corrects.

Grian takes in a sharp breath. Scar watches his tail flicking at his feet.

“What can I do to make you stop bringing it up?” Grian asks quietly, pushing unnecessarily hard against the dressing of Scar’s wound. Scar hisses, and Grian removes his hand immediately as if he had burnt himself.

With a muttered apology, Grian sighs, resigned, finally looking back up at Scar.

“...Okay. If we're gonna be travelling together, I'll make a deal with you.”

Scar sits up straighter, intrigued.

“For almost killing you… twice,” Grian elaborates, “I'll be indebted to you and will protect you until we escape this game.”

“Game?” Scar repeats, confused. Is this a game?

“Urh- trap-” Grian stutters, trying to cover up his choice of words. “I’ll help you get home, off this planet. It mostly- depends on-” he waffles on.

“You won't kill me?” Scar clarifies, briefly dropping the cheerful disposition he had so carefully applied.

“I mean… third time’s the charm-” Grian grins foolishly. He coughs out a laugh when Scar doesn't return the sentiment, instead pulling a concerned expression. “...No, I won't kill you, that was a joke.”

Scar mulls the idea over. He gasps at a realization. “So you’ll be my sidekick?”

“...No.”

“Driver? Sofa?” Scar asks, trying to think of the word.

“Chauffeur, and no.” Grian sits back. “As I was saying- you not bringing up that night again is also part of the deal.” His tone is serious, expression hardened with no hint of amusement. He stares right at Scar, his void-like eyes boring into him. Scar feels like he might get cursed by looking into his eyes for too long.

So naturally, he tests that.

“And you'll let me use your gun?”

“Nope.” Grian replies without hesitation.

“Oh, I mean gun sword.”

“You're pushing it.” Grian acknowledges, glaring at him.

“Okay. okay, deal.”

“Good.”

They shake on it. Long, metal talons meeting worn, gloved hands.

“Can I say one thing about that day?” Scar asks, pulling his hand back.

Grian stares at Scar.

“It's just a little thing.” Scar holds his fingers millimetres apart to emphasize his point.

Grian maintains his steady glare at him. Scar attempts to pull a sad puppy-dog face, earning himself a snort from the avian.

“Fine.” Grian groans, rolling his eyes.

“If it’s any help, I'm glad you look better than you did back then. Cooler, even. Not all beat up and soggy.” Scar says sweetly.

“That doesn't really help at all- for any reason-”

“No, I mean, like- your wings, they look all- fuller? Fluffy.” Scar adds, for lack of a better word. He watches as Grian’s face turns bright red. He doesn’t normally get described as ‘fluffy’.

“I- They're not pin feathers anymore- you mean.” He stammers, completely flustered.

“Oh- pin feathers?” Scar asks, curiously. He’s not too familiar with avian biology.

“It's like a waxy sheath that covers new feathers when they grow-” He cuts himself off, waving his hand as he stops the tangent.

“Anyway! We agreed not to bring it up!" He pouts, annoyed at how quickly he forgot his own rule.

Grian hastily finishes folding all the unused bandages back into their box, leaving a small pile of bloody gauze behind in the sand.

Scar stares at them, blinking slowly as he fends off his own adrenaline crash. Grian looks back at the Vindicator sympathetically.

“So, rest.” He offers.

“Rest.” Scar confirms absently.

“I'll be first watch.”

“You sure?” Scar looks over him. It had been Grian who first brought up the idea of resting, hours ago.

Grian just shrugs in response, turning away. “Yeah, I got this. You're the injured one.”

Not wanting to argue, Scar complies, shuffling down until he's lying across the sand. Grian quietly settles into a more comfortable position too, pulling his wings out in front of him. He runs his talons through the feathers, quickly preening the particularly dishevelled spots.

After a while, Grian peers back over at Scar, who is quietly snoring. He fell asleep remarkably quickly. His jacket is rolled up as a pillow— it doesn’t look particularly comfortable, but it’s not like they have any alternatives. Grian watches and waits, double-checking that Scar is fully asleep, slowly making noise with his feathered tail to test him.

Once he’s confident he won’t wake Scar, he turns his back to him and pulls back out his healing supplies.

Cautiously, he slips his sleeve over his shoulder, unbuckling his armour slightly. He gets as good of a look at his shoulder as he can. Blood clots the thick fabric, but thankfully, it must have helped to temporarily bandage the wound, preventing most of it from bleeding through. Not that it would have been easy to spot on the red fabric if it had. Grian winces as he tugs on the dried blood slightly. The wound looks exactly like Scar’s, albeit with more congealed blood. It was a good idea to get a closer look at Scar's injury, he thinks. This confirms his suspicions.

He sighs, reaching for the wipes and dressing, tending to his own hidden wounds until he can clip his armour back in place, the bandages hidden underneath. He frequently checks Scar’s status, who lies completely still, fast asleep.

He leans back against the walls of the cavern, wrapping his wings around himself for comfort. It’s not freezing temperatures, but the air has definitely cooled significantly since the sun dipped below the horizon. Even now the sky refuses to turn fully black, a soft orange glow shining from where the sun had disappeared, basking the world in a reddish hue.

His gaze falls on the sad, broken remains of the phantoms from earlier. He’s got a feeling they’re not going to be the only challenge put in place for them here. He’ll wake Scar up in an hour or so, so he can get his own opportunity to sleep through the rest of this short night.

For now, he sits, and watches.

[meeedeee]

To Be Safer, We Need To Be Visible To One Another

Each of us needs to reach out to our neighbors - maybe the house or apartment next door. Maybe the condo floor or block, to identify the seniors & disabled who need help during an evacuation. Those first hours in an emergency - we will need to rescue each other. This is not a failure of government - or not fully a failure. It is the recognition that sometimes help cannot reach us no matter how well we plan or how many resources are set aside. Sometimes really bad shit happens and official help cannot arrive in time. But humans are social beings - and as long as someone is nearby and is thinking ahead, most of us will step up to assist the vulnerable. We just need to know where they/we are. We cannot save what we cannot perceive. And seniors and the disabled are too often hidden and unseen in society.

I set up & maintain yearly an emergency phone tree for our block (you can also set one up for your apartment floor, I have a template below). I printed out the neighbor names & phone numbers & handed it to neighbors who joined. To get access to the list, you need to provide your info.

I update it yearly. It has come in handy - 'Uh guys, what was that weird bump in the night?", 'My dog bolted out the front door', 'Hey did you know there is someone standing on your roof looking a bit confused? (it was a solar panel estimator who went to the wrong house). And yes I once borrowed eggs to bake a cake.

Emergency Phone Tree Template https://docs.google.com/document/d/1UxQv1U2CO0P7eUFgIcnsnMjuo2XC2S23UDvU2tIZtxc/edit?tab=t.0

[meta-squash]

Squash's Reading List Year In Review 2024

(I've also posted this on WordPress here, where it might be more readable: https://jesuisgourde.wordpress.com/.../30/readinglist2024/)

Last year I read 92 books. I didn't plan on trying to surpass that number but I did, quite easily. This year I read 116 books. I didn't start off with any specific reading goal, but early on I decided to make it my goal to read more books by not-cis-men (women, trans/nonbinary people, etc) than by cis men. I hit that goal with 72 books. I did want to reread a number of books; I reread 7 books, but not all were the ones I listed in my last yearly reading review. I read 89 fiction books and 27 nonfiction. Of the nonfiction, the genres were mainly biography/autobiography, essay, science, and history. I read 45 books from small press publishers. I read 39 books by and/or about queer people. I don't have a super nice photo spread this year because I read a lot of books at work; I was going to screenshot my goodreads grid but unfortunately they have (frustratingly) changed the format from grid to list in the past week.

Here's a photo of the books I read that I do own, which isn't a whole lot, since I read most of the books at work this year:

I'll do superlatives at the end, here is the list of what I read this year, in chronological order. (Apologies for the random line breaks in the middle of the list, tumblr doesn't like it when you have 50+ lines without breaks)

-The Sorrows Of Young Werther by Johann von Goethe -The Changeling by Joy Williams -Child of God by Cormac McCarthy -Pierrot Mon Ami by Raymond Queneau -The Ghost Network by Kate Disabato -The Thirty-Nine Steps by John Buchan -Richard III by William Shakespeare (reread) -The Recognitions by William Gaddis -A Kestrel For A Knave by Barry Hines -Grief Is The Thing With Feathers by Max Porter -Bluets by Maggie Nelson -The Wild Party by Joseph Moncure March -The Hospital by Ahmed Bouanani -I Love Dick by Chris Kraus -Minor Detail by Adiana Shibli -Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson -Rent Boy by Gary Indiana -One Or Several Deserts by Carter St Hogan -Samedi the Deafness by Jesse Ball -Norma Jean Baker of Troy by Anne Carson -Die My Love by Ariana Harwicz -Missing Person by Patrick Modiano -Petite Fleur by Iosi Havilio -Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi -The Address Book by Sophie Calle -In The Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado -Plastic Jesus by Poppy Z Brite -New Animal by Ella Baxter -The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-In-The-Moon Marigolds by Paul Zindel (play) -Green Girl by Kate Zambrino -Death In Spring by Merce Rodoreda -Harold's End by JT LeRoy (reread) -Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto -Stranger To The Moon by Evelio Rosero -H of H Playbook by Anne Carson -When The Sick Rule The World by Dodie Bellamy -Wittgenstein's Mistress by David Markson -Agua Viva by Clarice Lispector -Not One Day by Anne Garreta -Mauve Desert by Nicole Brossard -Binary Star by Sarah Gerard -Slug and other stories by Megan Milks -Weetzie Bat by Francesca Lia Block (reread) -The Deer by Dashiel Carrera -Mean by Myriam Gurba -Humiliation by Wayne Koestenbaum -The Toaster Project: Or A Heroic Attempt to Build a Simple Electric Appliance from Scratch by Thomas Thwaites -Kind Mirrors, Ugly Ghosts by Claire Donato -Our Wives Under The Sea by Julia Armfield

-Notes on Thoughts and Vision & The Wise Sappho by H.D. -Harrow by Joy Williams -A Feast Of Snakes by Harry Crews -Low Life: Lures and Snares of Old New York by Lucy Sante -Milkshake by Travis Dahlke -Little Fish by Casey Plett -Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor -Sex Goblin by Lauren Cook -Biography of X by Catherine Lacey -Why Fish Don't Exist: A Story of Loss, Love, and the Hidden Order of Life by Lulu Miller -Hir by Taylor Mac (play) -Daddy Boy by Emerson Whitney -Notes On Camp by Susan Sontag -Transformer: A Story of Glitter, Glam Rock, and Loving Lou Reed by Simon Doonan -Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo -Acid Snow by Larry Mitchell (reread) -33 1/3 Joy Division - Unknown Pleasures by Chris Ott -The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides -red doc> by Anne Carson -Darryl by Jackie Ess -A Visit From The Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan -The Postman Always Rings Twice by James Cain -Body by Harry Crews -St Sebastian's Abyss by Mark Haber -The Quick & The Dead by Joy Williams (reread) -Don't Think Twice: Adventure and Healing at 100 Miles Per Hour by Barbara Schoichet -Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer -Timbuktu by Paul Auster -Nevada by Imogen Binnie -The End We Start From by Megan Hunte -Organ Meats by K-Ming Chang -Like Flies From Afar by K. Ferraro -Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland by Patrick Radden Keefe -Bestiary by K-Ming Chang -Playboy by Constance Debre -Red Dragon by Thomas Harris -Parting Gifts for Losing Contestants by Jessica Mooney -The Outline of My Lover by Douglas A Martin -Monstrilio by Gerardo Samano Cordova -Essex County by Jeff Lemire (reread) -Tacky: Love Letters to the Worst Culture We Have To Offer by Rax King -The Death of Francis Bacon by Max Porter -Lover Man by Alston Anderson -Cecilia by K-Ming Chang -The Employees by Olga Ravn -It Lasts Forever And Then It's Over by Anne De Marcken -Mercy Killing by Alandra Hileman (play) -Tentacle by Rita Indiana

-Nox by Anne Carson -What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami -McGlue by Ottessa Moshfegh (reread) -Fever Dream by Samanta Schweblin -John by Annie Baker (play) -Widow Basquiat by Jennifer Clement -All Down Darkness Wide by Sean Hewitt -The Blue Books by Nicole Brossard -The Book Of Difficult Fruit: Arguments for the Tart, Tender and Unruly by Kate Lebo -Blood Of The Dawn by Claudia Salazar Jimenez -The Balloonists by Eula Biss -Ravage: An Astonishment Of Fire by MacGillivray/Kirsten Norrie -Gods Of Want: Stories by K-Ming Chang -Fem by Magda Carneci -Miss Major Speaks: Conversations with a Black Trans Revolutionary by Miss Major Griffin-Gracy and Toshio Merino -Mr Parker by Michael McKeever (play) -Fucking A by Suzan-Lori Parks (play) -Dictee by Theresa Hak Kyung Cha -Otherspace, a Martian Ty/opography by Brad Freeman and Johanna Drucker

I DNF'ed a few books, but all were put down with the intention of finishing them at some point. Mostly they were books I needed to read when I was less busy/in a different headspace. I DNF'ed: Soldiers Don't Go Mad: A true story of friendship, poetry and mental illness during the first world war by Charles Glass, a reread of Her by HD, and The Apple In The Dark by Clarice Lispector. The Lispector and HD are both modernist novels that need 100% attention, and the Glass book is a nonfiction book (very good so far) that I put down in favor of something that at the time was more interesting.

I gave out a lot of 5 stars this year. The books I rated as 5 stars were: The Changeling by Joy Williams, The Recognitions by William Gaddis, Our Wives Under The Sea by Julia Armfield, 33 1/3 Unknown Pleasures by Chris Ott, Transformer by Simon Doonan, Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo, Body by Harry Crews, Organ Meats by K-Ming Chang, Say Nothing by Patrick Radden Keefe, and Fever Dream by Samanta Schweblin.

~Superlatives~

Like last year, I'm going to do runners-up because I read so many books.

Favorite book: The Recognitions by William Gaddis. I have to pick this one as my favorite for the year, because reading it was a journey, and because it was a book that was exactly everything I love in a book: fascinating, very human characters, weird formatting, great dialogue, metaphors galore, and most importantly, hundreds of cultural, artistic, historical, biblical and literary references. I started this book on January 4 and I finished it February 22. It was so unbelievably dense, probably the densest novel I've ever read, and I absolutely loved it. So much is going on in this novel that it's hard for me to summarize. In the very shortest version of a summary, it is a novel about counterfeits (specifically paintings, but counterfeits in all and any forms) and Catholicism in 1930s/40s New York. The main character is a young man named Wyatt Gwyon, a talented artist who instead of painting for himself, becomes a skilled counterfeiter-- not because he wants to make money, but because he's obsessed with the perfection of making exact interpretations of other people's art. He also struggles with religion and belief due to his strange religious upbringing. Many, many other characters are also focal points throughout the novel. The book is unique in that it doesn't use quotation marks when characters speak and rarely uses "he said"/"she said" or any similar phrase. But Gaddis is incredibly talented at writing dialogue so that each character's voice comes through, and it's obvious (except when he doesn't want it to be) who is speaking. Gaddis is also wonderfully scathing, and much of the novel is incredibly witty and intelligent observations about the Modernist art world and artistic spaces in general. The characters are all fascinating, there is a lot of mirroring and metaphors. I say this book is about counterfeits in every form, because it constantly highlights different ways in which each character is faking something, or lying, or pretending to be/know/do/think something they are not. This book was incredible, I annotated every single page and had so much fun reading it, even though or perhaps because it was so unbelievably dense.

Just for a bit of reference, here are a few of the more annotated pages in my copy of The Recognitions:

Runner up: Body by Harry Crews (more on this one further down)

Least favorite book: Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi. I was so disappointed by this book. The blurb on the back made it sound like it was going to be really beautiful and interesting and unique. It wasn't. It was all tell and no show. It follows Ada, a person who is born with one foot in the spirit world. A traumatic experience at university causes her to develop split personalities as the spirits from the other side step forward to protect her from trauma. Unfortunately, the spirits who now control her body have darker, more dangerous desires. Sadly, there was almost no plot, just description after description of Ada's unhealthy relationships and erratic behavior. But because the narrative is so distanced from said relationships and from Ada, the high stakes of this behavior is not felt, not really. Interesting characters can easily save 'all tell and no show type' books, but none of the characters get delved into with any depth, even Ada. The show rather than tell narrative also seriously undermines the poetic prose that crops up almost at random. This book felt flat. No plot, little stakes felt, no interesting characters, tell rather than showing everything, and it's not compelling at all.

Runner up: Playboy by Constance Debre. The back of this book describes it as a memoir detailing the writer's "decision, at age forty-three, to abandon her marriage, her legal career, and her bourgeois Parisian life to become a lesbian and a writer." Which sounds amazing! But it isn't! It's unbelievably pretentious and quite boring. It's mostly just complaining hidden by a facade of faux-philosophical meandering and directionless autobiographical vignettes. The author is a lawyer and she spends most of the time complaining about poor people and about women. It's so hilariously misogynistic. It's just various vignettes of her relationships with various women (who she dislikes and disparages for being femme or having bad bodies or for having lowbrow/uncultured interests etc etc) and then her going and visiting her ex-husband and teenage son, and then complaining that she has nothing. There's little to no emotion in the book, she is not charming, and her pseudo-philosophical musings are boring.

Most surprising/unexpected book: Body by Harry Crews. This book crept up on me in terms of a favorite. Crews' writing is not for everyone, but it's absolutely for me. The book follows bodybuilder Shereel Dupont and her trainer, Russell, who are at the world bodybuilding competition. Shereel has left home to compete over the past year and is now one of the most likely to win. Unfortunately, her family, who are "corpulent rednecks" with odd habits, show up to cheer her on, causing disruption and chaos throughout the hotel at which the competition is held and turmoil for Shereel herself. This book blew me away completely. Every time I thought it had reached a plateau of weirdness and chaos and insanity, it ratcheted that all up even higher, culminating in the most perfectly fucked up ending.

Runner up: Fever Dream by Samanta Schweblin. A mother trapped in the liminal space between life and death is made by an unfamiliar changeling child to retell the events of the recent past, desperately trying to pinpoint the moment she can reverse the environmental poisoning of herself and her daughter. I picked this book up because it sounded interesting, and then it ended up being an amazingly written short horror novel. It had a lot of interesting thoughts on motherhood and the horror of being a parent - not in a negative way, but the horror of wanting to protect and keep your child safe and the inability to do so.

Most fun book: Like Flies From Afar by K Ferrari. I fully judged a book by its cover with this one, and it did not disappoint. Small-time criminal/oligarch Mr Machi thinks he's hot shit, until he pops a tire on the way to an appointment and discovers an unidentifiable corpse in his trunk. As he scrambles to deal with the body, his paranoia grows as he tries to calculate who out of all his enemies and employees might be responsible, and who is trying to frame him, and who the body might be, and his life slowly transforms into a nightmare. Everyone in this book is loathsome, but in a way that is so fun to hate. The whole novel is a romp of panic and paranoia, people who think they're so cool and hard exposing how uncool they are, and a mystery that's so fun because watching the protagonist panic is a kind of schadenfreude.

Runner up: Transformer by Simon Doonan. This is a book for people who love Lou Reed, by a man who loves Lou Reed. It's just a wonderfully written biography that focuses mainly on the album Transformer, but also gives Lou Reed's history and is interspersed with stories about Doonan's own thoughts and experiences with Reed. The whole book is really passionate and vivid, and fun to read even if you don't have the album immediately to hand.

Best queer book: Our Wives Under The Sea by Julia Armfield. Leah, a marine biologist, has returned from a deep-sea voyage that went wrong. Her wife Miri begins to realize that something is wrong, and Leah came back changed. The narrative switches between Miri's point of view as she tries to reach Leah and struggles help her despite not knowing what's happening to her wife, and Leah's point of view as she remembers and recounts what happened to her during her submarine voyage. I started this book at work and brought it home. In the middle of reading it, I stopped to finish some task (I think it might have been to make dinner), and ended up having to cut the task short because I needed so badly to keep reading. The most compelling part of the book is the very different ways the two characters' love for each other shines through, even in the darkest moments of the novel.

Runner up: Darryl by Jackie Ess. The titular narrator of this novel discovers that he genuinely enjoys a cuckolding lifestyle, watching men have sex with his wife. But then he realizes that part of the reason he likes it so much, is that maybe he wants to be the wife. His explorations with sex and gender and relationships (and basketball) begin to unravel his marriage and his friendships and his own mind. Then he learns more about one of the men his wife has been sleeping with, and things get dangerous. I loved this book because despite it being written by a trans woman, the story doesn't at all go where you'd expect regarding gender or sexuality. It's satirical, it's witty, it's got some cool things to say about kink and about gender, and it's totally original.

Saddest book: Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. This is a classic I'd been meaning to read for a long time. The narrator is an American WWI soldier named Joe who was hit by an artillery shell and has woken in the hospital having had his arms and legs amputated, as well as most of his facial features mutilated beyond use/recognition. Trapped in his body, he drifts through memories and musings on life and war and philosophy as he tries to keep track of the days and to figure out some way to communicate with the hospital staff. It's no wonder this book is a classic. The writing is incredible, the imagery vivid and the plot totally gripping, even as it switches between the peaceful past and the horrible present. The end is completely gut-wrenching.

Runner up: Minor Detail by Adania Shibli. This novel explores what in history is a minor detail, and what impact that little moment might have on someone in the future. The first part of the novel opens in Palestine in 1949, in a military camp, where a group of Israeli soldiers (led by a captain suffering from a bite-induced hallucinogenic fever) kidnap, rape, and murder an unnamed Palestinian woman and bury her body in the desert. Fifty-odd years later, a Palestinian writer learns about this "small" moment in history, which occurred 25 years to the day before her birth, and becomes obsessed with learning more. She obtains an illegal pass to the Zone in which the woman died, determined to go there and find more information. I don't want to summarize much more because I don't want to give away any of the hard-hitting plot points. But Minor Detail was published in 2020, and it explores the cycles of violence and the ways in which oppression has not changed for the Palestinian people. It's a book that I wish I had read twice because (as the title suggests) there were a lot of small details that repeated themselves or were less noticeable at first but slowly grew or became important later in the story, and I'm sure I would have noticed more.

Weirdest book: The Changeling by Joy Williams. I love Joy Williams! I love everything she writes! Her themes are always so interesting and her writing style is so unique. The main character, a young woman named Pearl, escapes her terrible marriage by joining a rich older man and in doing so ends up living with him on an island that is populated by children he has taken under his wing. Pearl wants little to do with them and spends most of her days getting drunk by the pool -- the children are eerily smart and her son has joined their games and lessons, and they all want her attention. But her son is less and less her son as time goes on, and the children are not always the children, and the adults in the house are all bizarre and half-mad. I wish I could give a better summary, but Joy Williams books are always difficult to summarize, because so much of the stories are less about the plot and more about the characters just feeling things at the reader, and the plot is often built on or around odd occurrences and philosophical musings. This book blew me away with its imagery and its metaphors. I want to reread it, because it was just so amazing. My absolutely favorite thing about Joy Williams (and this is true for all of her books) is the way she writes these incredibly profound and philosophical phrases like they're nothing at all, like they're so easy, just breezes on by them even though she's just punched you in the chest. It's amazing.

Runner up: Fever Dream by Samanta Schweblin.

Most gripping book: Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland by Patrick Radden Keefe. This book is an absolute masterclass in pacing. It tells just a few fragments out of the whole history of the Irish Troubles, but the fragments that are focused on are woven together with brilliant timing, humanizing and vivid portrayals, fantastic analysis and contextualization, and altogether excellent writing. Every time I put this book down I wanted to keep reading, to know what was going to happen next. The book has 3 focal points: Gerry Adams, (alleged) leader of the IRA; Dolors Price, a member of the IRA; and the family of Jean McConville, a woman kidnapped by the IRA. At first, all three storylines are disparate, but Keefe slowly weaves them together, pulling all the threads of context and action and years in prison or government or delinquent schools together slowly but steadily. The book reads like a thriller, and I adored it completely. (Yes, I do know about the miniseries. I haven't finished watching it yet!)

Runner up: Our Wives Under The Sea by Julia Armfield.

Book that taught me the most: Say Nothing by Patrick Radden Keefe

Runner up: The Toaster Project: Or A Heroic Attempt to Build a Simple Electric Appliance from Scratch by Thomas Thwaites. This could also go under weirdest book, easily. As a graduate art school project, Thwaites decided to attempt to build the simplest (and cheapest) appliance he could think of - a toaster - fully from scratch. Quite literally, starting with mining the elements to make the right kinds of metal and figuring out how to make the right kind of plastic. Half of the book is Thwaites' attempts to build various elements of a toaster - and how they go wrong, or right, and why it's so hard. The other half discusses all the processes that go in to making all these elements in a more manufactured setting, their impact on the environment and the economy, and the difference between cheap mass-produced products that break down vs more expensive products that last longer. The writing was fun and included photos and diagrams and interviews with various industry professionals Thwaites contacted to learn more.

Most interesting/thought provoking book: The Recognitions by William Gaddis

Runner up: Organ Meats by K-Ming Chang. I've now read everything this author has published and this is by far her best book. Her narrative style is so unique and so poetic, and the themes she always comes back to are so interesting, and they culminate in this amazing novel. This magical realist novel centers around two best friends, Anita and Rainie, who are both first generation Taiwanese-American. The story opens when they are adolescents, and Anita has recently learned that they come from generations of dog-headed women and women-headed dogs. They vow to become dogs together, tying a string around each other's throats as collars and playing at dogs in the empty lot near their apartment complex. But Anita's dreamlike imagination and obsessively loyal personality starts to clash with Rainie's more reserved nature, and when it becomes too much, Rainie's family moves away. Rainie grows up, while unbeknownst to her, Anita has sunk into a dreamworld and her body has begun to rot. She narrates her family's past and her mother's bloodline because she cannot narrate her own present. When she returns to the town she grew up in, Rainie discovers Anita's condition, and knows that she is the only one who can save her. This novel is beautiful, incredibly poetic, and experiments with formatting and narration in really unique ways. Its exploration of friendship and queerness and obsession and tradition and folklore is absolutely fascinating. I often write in my books and underline sentences or paragraphs that I really love. I didn't write in this one, because I would have ended up underlining the entire novel.

Longest/shortest book: My longest book was The Recognitions by William Gaddis at 952 pages, and my shortest was Notes On Camp by Susan Sontag at 57 pages.

General thoughts on all the other books that didn't get superlatives:

-Child of God by Cormac McCarthy. This is the first McCarthy book I've ever read (I know, I know) and I really enjoyed it. You just watch a horrible guy walk around in the rural countryside of a small town, doing increasingly fucked up things and committing various awful crimes. Which is exactly up my alley in terms of literature. The main character, Ballard, is someone who is so weird and pathetic that he becomes turned inside out into evilness. You feel sorry for him but you also hate him and he's also fascinating because he's so fucking weird. It's a great book.

-The Ghost Network by Catie Disabato. This book was so much fun to read while living in Chicago. It's a rock n roll mystery novel that riffs on Situationism and the L tracks and maps. A rock star disappears, and the main character who is a fan of her's is determined to find out what happened to her. What she uncovers is a series of clues based on defunct lines and stations of the Chicago transit system, and the Situationist concept of detournment, which lead her towards finding out what actually happened to the rock star. This book was so much fun, and so much of it was based on real life defunct train lines and the actual Situationists, both of which I found really interesting. The ending was also just so good! Somehow I managed to have read everything I needed to in order to get every single reference in the book, which was really surprising to me, because they all came from different places.

-New Animal by Ella Baxter. This book baffled me. It is about a woman who works as a makeup-artist at her family's morgue. When her mother dies unexpectedly, she skips the funeral and goes to stay at her estranged father's house. While there, trying to figure out how to vent her grief, she decides to try out the local kink scene. Her first experience is with a dom who is a manipulative, horrible asshole. She has a bad time, but wants to try again, so she goes to a place that hosts scenes. She acts like she knows what she's doing when she doesn't, no one gives her any instruction, so she fucks up massively, and everyone has a bad time. It's the worst portrayal of the kink scene I think I've ever encountered. The author said she did a lot of research but it just seems like a lot of terrible assumptions and misinterpretations. I thought it was going to be a book that positively portrayed kink and people who like the kink scene, but it's very much not. It didn't even feel like the author was doing this so the character would learn that she can't run from her grief. It seemed more like the author had one bad experience due to poor communication or shitty individuals, and then decided that's what the whole scene was like.

-Harold's End by JT LeRoy. I read this book in high school (or perhaps just after graduating) and totally fell in love with it, and then never saw another copy until recently. It was so good to reread it, to re-experience the gorgeous watercolor portraits that come with it. The novel follows a young street kid/hustler who lives with other street kids; all his friends have pets but he doesn't. A john takes a liking to him and buys him a snail as a pet, who he names Harold. The book follows him as he lives on the streets and as his relationship with the john develops. The book is classic JT LeRoy, and the end is LeRoy's usual style of characters experiencing a life lesson and growth but not necessarily in a happy way. It definitely holds up!

-Wittgenstein's Mistress by David Markson. This was such a fun and weird book and I really enjoyed it. Markson's idea for the novel was "what if someone actually lived the way that Wittgenstein's Tractatus suggests?". What we get is a woman who believes she is the last person on earth (it is never confirmed whether this is true or not). She muses on life, culture, art, philosophy, and her past, and discusses her trips across the world despite its emptiness. But her story changes constantly; she's always referencing things she said before and editing herself. It's a weird, fun, fascinating novel with a lovably weird main character.

-A Feast Of Snakes by Harry Crews. Yet another fucked up book that I loved. It follows Joe Lon Mackey, a former high school football star that now lives a dead-end life in his hometown in Georgia. Each year the town hosts the Rattlesnake Roundup, where people come from many states away to try and catch as many rattlesnakes as they can in order to win a competition. Joe Lon is in charge of the event now that his father is too old and ill. He's uncomfortably self-aware of his own personal failings and his inadequacy and his abusive relationship with his wife; he'd rather not think about any of it and is incapable of figuring out how to change things. But his old girlfriend is returning for the event, and his father's attempts to control the goings-on from afar mean he's unable to stop thinking about where his life has ended up and where it's going. All this drives him slowly crazy with desperation until the insane ending. Crews is incredibly talented at writing characters that are likeable despite being so flawed and fairly awful people. This book is no exception.

-Milkshake by Travis Dahlke. What a weird novel! In a near-future dystopian heatwave, an 11 year old girl escapes the environmental catastrophe by traveling back in time to her past life as a fertilizer salesman whose marriage is slowly collapsing. I really enjoyed it, because it was just so odd. Now that I'm thinking about it, I feel as though it would have been really interesting to read just before or just after reading Tentacle; both books focus specifically on time travel and on environmental disaster.

-Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor. At the opening of the box, a Witch has been murdered in a small village in Mexico called La Matosa. The rest of the chapters are narrated by different characters, who all have some small or large hand in the death of the Witch, who was a woman who the whole town visited in secret for medicine, fortune-tellings, and advice. The narrating characters include a schoolgirl, a drug dealer, a prostitute, a hapless husband who wants to make something of himself, and a teenager in love with his young girlfriend. With each narration we learn more about the Witch, and her mother who was a Witch before her. Slowly, we get inklings of the nature of the murder, and the revelation at the end is brutal. Melchor's writing is incredibly vivid, and the characters are all caught in the cycle of poverty, driven by superstition and fear and hardship. None of the characters are likeable, but they're all so human.

-Biography Of X by Catherine Lacey. In a dystopic alternate-universe US, where the Southern Territory split from the North after WWII and established a fascist theocracy, a woman named CM grieves her recently deceased wife X, who was a famous artist. Despite X's wishes, CM decides to delve into her wife's past, researching her history before they met and before she was known as X. She uses her credentials and privileges as a journalist to cross into the Southern Territory and learn about X's family and the communities from which she came, her activism and her hidden lives, and begins to realize that maybe learning all this about the woman she loved won't benefit her in the long run and that maybe their relationship wasn't as rosy as she thought. This novel combined fiction and real life in really fascinating ways, and includes both real and fake sources in its footnotes.

-The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides. A famous and successful painter murders her husband and then refuses to speak. A psychologist who is also a fan of her work is determined to get her to speak again. Obsessed with uncovering the truth, he ends up taking risks that threaten himself and his patient. A fun mystery that went down easy. It didn't attempt to be too realistic from the start, so suspension of disbelief wasn't hard. I do think the book could have done without the entire last part. Leaving it on the realization of what had happened and allowing the reader to sit with that realization (especially with how creatively the twist is presented) would have had more impact I think than the slower and less engaging denouement of the last 3 chapters, which were far weaker than the rest of the book.

-Acid Snow by Larry Mitchell. I reread this book for the first time since about 2009 and really enjoyed it. It's a very sad novel about a man living in NYC during the height of the AIDS epidemic. Most of his friends and lovers have died and he's scared and sad about his own life and cynical about love, but he's attracted to the man who owns the shop below his apartment. It's a dark book, sad and scared and jaded. I think the main character's anxiety and grief that slowly escalates into paranoia is an amazingly surreal way to portray all the emotions that consumed the queer community at that time. I also loved the sort of lack of closure at the end - because many people didn't get that.

-Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer. I don't generally go for science fiction novels, but I read this one because so many people said they had liked it. I really enjoyed it. The unnamed narrator, a biologist, is part of an all-female expedition into a harsh, unknown territory that has appeared adjacent to the US. The suspense and strangeness of the novel had excellent pacing. The descriptions were also so vivid and clear, which made the story's weirdness so compelling. I loved watching the main character struggle to remain objective the whole time while knowing that she's failing. Her growing fascination and terror is so fun to read as each feeling tries to overtake the other. I also think it was great as a standalone and I feel no interest in reading the other books in the same universe.

-Nevada by Imogen Binnie. I'm a bad queer person, I hated this book. In it, the narrator, a trans woman, is frustrated with her life and has just broken up with her girlfriend, so she steals her ex's car and drives away, ending up in a small town where she spends the night with a department store employee. I just really don't like books that are meandering tell and no show without characters or a plot that are interesting. This entire book felt like someone recounting their weekend over breakfast, complete with casual informal language and overuse of the word "like". Which would be fine if any of the characters were compelling, or if the plot was really interesting and went somewhere, but it didn't. A good portion of it is just musings on New York City, but without the creativity or vividness that other portrayals of NYC have to offer. After I read it, I learned this book was kind of the catalyst for a specific style of trans writing. Which also explains why I hated Detransition, Baby when I read it a couple years ago, as it's a sort of literary descendant of this. I'm happy to read books that are tell rather than show....so long as something interesting happens or at least one of the characters is unique and compelling. This book sadly has neither.

-Essex County by Jeff Lemire. I read this for an English class in university, so this was a reread and I really enjoyed reading it a second time! All the stories in this collection are so beautiful and compelling, all the characters are so real. And the art style is fantastic. The stories revolve around characters living in the titular Essex County in Canada, across a number of generations. It weaves together their relationships and their lives, much of which revolves around hockey. There were some storylines I remembered quite well and others I didn't remember at all, so it was really nice to revisit this one.

-Ravage: An Astonishment of Fire by MacGillivray. Man, this book had so much potential. This novel is a fake biography of a fake poet who disappeared from a Scottish island in the 1960s after falling into delusions that he has become a demon. The fascinating thing about this book (at first), is that it's completely convinced that it is an actual nonfiction book. It gives no hints that it's fake, and the first 50 pages are convincingly written with an academic, nonfiction voice as the novel is utterly convinced of its own delusion of factualness. The novel claims to be an analysis of found papers: first, the poetry and written tracts of Tristjan Norge, a Norwegian poet, then the analysis of his works by MacGillivray, and finally, the diary of his companion Luce Montcrieff. Unfortunately, it is fairly repetitive in a way that bogs the reader down quite a bit. Even so, I think I would have enjoyed much, much more if the ending did not abruptly switch genres to a supernatural/fantasy novel in a way that was startling and had no previous indications of earlier in the book. Up to the last 20 pages I thought it was interesting, even when it was dense, but the end felt like the author didn't know how to end the novel and just used the deus ex machina of supernatural occurrences.

My goal for 2025 is to read majority nonfiction. I don't know if I'm going to actually meet that goal, but I'll try. I don't have any goals for how many books I want to read, especially because I tend to read nonfiction quite a bit slower than fiction, so I don't have a good idea of what my reading amount goal should actually be. This year I also forgot entirely about my attempt to read all of Jean Genet's (translated) works, so I will hopefully actually meet that goal in 2025, since I only have one or two books left to read. But my first three books of the year are going to be Soldiers Don't Go Mad by Charles Glass, which I started this year but didn't finish, The Declared Enemy: Texts and Interviews by Jean Genet, and Rogues: True Stories of Grifters, Killers, Rebels and Crooks by Patrick Radden Keefe.

[scotianostra]

On November 1st 1756 the Wanlockhead Miner’s Library was established, the second oldest subscription Library in Scotland and indeed Europe.

It was only the second subscription library for working people to be founded anywhere in the World. It was closely modelled on the first, the neighbouring Leadhills Library, founded over ten years earlier in 1741.

Throughout the mid eighteenth and nineteenth centuries libraries like Wanlockhead flourished, it is one of the few remaining examples of a phenomenon which was once found throughout Scotland. That of the community (or subscription) library. A community library is really a sort of club. Members can join upon payment of an entry fee and afterward pay a yearly subscription. Money raised in this way was mostly fed back into the purchase of stock and gradually a permanent library is accumulated.

The founding of a library suggests that there were high levels of literacy amongst the local population. The ability of the miners to read and write can be traced back to the village school which was established by the Duke of Bucchleuch in the eighteenth century and a teacher was employed to teach local children.

The Society has a fascinating history for example it amassed a collection of around 3,717 books by 1925, although only around 2572 or around two-thirds are housed in the library today.

Having ceased to function as a working library in the early 1930s the fate of the book collection and society archives appeared sealed. However, having been looked after by villagers for a number of years, the preservation and promotion of the collection became a fundamental aim of Wanlockhead Museum Trust when it was formed in 1974. The Miner’s Library collection itself became a ‘Recognised Collection of National Significance’ in 2008. A survey of its archives was recently added to the National Records and Archives of Scotland Register.

In addition to gaining this official recognition, the Museum was also awarded £40,000 by Museums and Galleries Scotland which was used to research and promote the collection.

More about the Leadhills Museum and the library here

[ginnysgraffiti]

heya ! i really love your writing, it’s so intimate and earnest and absorbing ;was wondering if you’d ever consider writing about taylor russell or even maren? i feel like this is a totally untapped concept on here which is so odd to me considering her unflinching beauty and loveliness

heyyy!! i'm so touched by your comment, it's so heart warming to know that someone likes my (horrible) writing style TT

also, i definitely adore your request! taylor's my favourite actress and i'm so glad she has been receiving the recognition she deserves lately! plus, maren has always been my favourite character and i couldn't wait to write about her <33

i tried to arrange something, but i'll definitely write more about her or taylor directly.

reader as lee from bones and all

&. MAREN YEARLY x yn.

you loved her since the very first day.

you found yourself falling for the way her jacket sleeves covered half her hands, how her curls moved with the wind when she let your pick-up window down, how she clumsily cleaned herself after feeding and you always had to give her a hand.

she often preferred to spend time with your sister, chatting nonsense just to make time pass or go for an ice-cream.

maren wasn't your first love, she was your first everything.

words couldn't express the gratefulness you had towards her for being an eater, for understanding you, for not making you feel like the monster you were.

however, time seemed to slip through your fingers.

you always dedicate yourself to feeding, reassuring your sister that everything was going in the right way in some phone booth outside the city, gathering the little money you could and protecting you both constantly.

that evening, you could notice a blanket of darkness covered the sky from your pick-up window as you waited for maren to return from feeding. the occasional engine noises and leaves bustling from the gentle breeze filled the night outside. a faint glow of silver moonlight caught your attention for half a second, when the passenger door opened and maren jumped in.

she had surprisingly cleaned herself already, but a light smell of iron and mud made its way into the car.

she kept silent, like most of the times where one of you had gone feeding and you're too vulnerable or self-conscious to put up a proper conversation.

your eyes travelled down, her little hands were nervously teasing the hem of her white sweatshirt, as to silently ask the fabric to hide her little frame completely.

she suddenly looked so small, fragile and broken.

without sharing a word, you drove towards a nearby motel.

you were actually proud of the fact you managed to put up a decent nest egg of savings earned from part-time jobs or feedings victims' wallets, so you were aiming to a comfortable room.

as soon as you turned off the engine you gave maren a few seconds to look around.

you could tell she had got used to the idea of sleeping in your truck, even if you also shared the bed at your aunt's house in the past and she never seemed uncomfortable with it.

maybe because you two never got intimate, maybe because she was completely oblivious of the turmoil that was taking control of you and the butterflies you were feeling all inside.

talking about love wasn't on the agenda, at all, especially since you talked often about your unconventional habits and past experiences that ended up ruining both your moods.

maren was a girl of many words. she spoke with you every single time, every single second to ask stupid questions you always found yourself smiling at, and you loved it. how would it feel to open up to her and talk about your feelings?

as you stepped in, you already knew that she was not gonna waste any more time before entering the shower. rightfully so. it was good to take advantage of the small benefits when you could afford it - or better, when you could do so without feeling bad about it.

you sat down on a small wood chair near the double bed, wondering how such a twisted eater like you would have been able to become a damn hopeless romantic.

the way her curly hair as black as pitch bounced on her shoulder in the truck, the way she insisted on ordering milk and cereal at every diner, many little and useless things that got you on your knees for her.

when the chair revealed uncomfortable, you decided to stay with your tanktop and jeans and lay on the mattress, waiting for her without moving a single muscle.

your mind was still thinking about how you couldn't bring yourself to make a clear move on her when maren got out of the bathroom, holding onto her bathrobe fabric.

her hair was as dry as before, all curly and arranged in a clearly-self-made chignon.

"all clean?" you asked, putting up a reassuring smile.

she nodded, and you asked yourself why she hadn't dressed herself in the bathroom directly.

your pulse quickened terribly when she dragged her slippers on the floor, climbing shyly on the bed.

such a fool you were making of yourself, being all worked up and blushing when she suddenly reached your body, spreading on top like a sleepy animal. her hair looked so full and her skin soft as she rubbed your cheek against your collarbone.

her little little hands slowly searched for your waist, allowing herself to straddle you better.

you couldn't tell what was going on in her mind, either what her intentions were, but you just hoped it could be a nice beginning of the relationship you always dreamed of.

"can i sleep like this...?" her barely-awake tone asked.

"sure you can." you quickly replied, kissing her head. she smelled like vanilla body wash the natural skin scent you loved.

[alyjojo]

Yearly Tarot Reading 2025 🎏 - Sagittarius Sun/Rising

Meditation: Dropped from a ski lift on a mountain, you’re skiing ⛷️ down at an extremely fast rate, moving from side to side and showing off for someone to the side - some not all, some don’t even know them, it’s 50/50; but you end up falling and rolling quite a bit down the hill, turning into a giant snowball and hitting a tree with snow ❄️ on it, which all falls on top of you for the grand finale. This person is on the other side of the tree a little ways, laughing. It doesn’t feel mean, it’s a soft laugh, like a mother chuckling at their child.

General: Temperance 😌

Work: The Chariot

Love: The Hanged Man

Before I even started, I was shown the art on the top of the oracle deck and heard “Sparrow” and then “eye of the sparrow”…y’all I’ve never heard of this a day in my life, apparently it’s both a song and a Bible verse which…idk these verses, I’m reading it along with ya 😆 There are 100 versions of the song so idk pick one, but the verse is as follows:

Matthew 10:29-31

29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. 30 And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31 So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

Your energy makes me chuckle a bit too, you’re late to the party Sag, you’re still working with Libra SN energy because you didn’t apply this to yourself in the last couple of years, so it’s like the new nodes don’t even really take effect until you do - or they’re all going on simultaneously which is kind of exhausting, and that’s here. I don’t believe in mistakes so, there’s a reason. You did win something last year, something you’d been competing for, whether it’s a person, a contest, some kind of recognition, a game show opportunity 🧳, a trip, idk. Before then you may have been kinda hard on yourself and had lacked confidence or recognition, this was a big boost you needed - and it came with some kind of Abundance. Money, a new car, an appliance from The Price is Right, whatever it was made you feel really good. Now, that confidence is back to waning, on and off, you know what you want but do others want the same thing? Will they support you? You fear they won’t.

Temperance is your own energy of taking things one day at a time, incorporating different elements into a successful blend via “alchemy,” being patient and cooperative, not letting things shake you up or get you frazzled. I don’t see any sudden shake-ups, more like a lot of rest, time to think, time to chill, hang out, and consider what comes next. This year is shown as a Growth year, you’re changing a lot whether you know it or not, over time. A big big part of this has to do with boundaries on all fronts - the current nodes highlight your 4th House of Home and your 10th House of Career, both being shown with Boundaries and Libra rev. You could have Libra/Cancer placements that the heavy Aries retrograde (Mercury & Venus) energy in March (and later Saturn) all trigger in you. Or more likely, because Sag and Aries 🔥 are very compatible, this time period could be the catalyst that gives you the courage to address this, it’s like the in-between middle ground you need.

You’re a people pleaser and it’s exhausting not putting yourself and your own goals first, whatever they are, but you’ve been indecisive on where to draw lines. It’s a fluid “I don’t care” kind of energy I’m sure you know well, you’re very go-with-the-flow, but that seems to be being taken advantage of and it’s time to start drawing lines in the sand. Spirit is saying you’ll know when, and also to be patient and consider your actions/words before doing so…be calm and clear. I don’t see you drawing boundaries for the sake of it, they have to be crossed in order for you to be like wait…no. You’d rather not, it’s probably forced & necessary. At least from what I’m seeing here, you’re pretty chill.

With love being The Hanged Man, and The Sun rev clarifying, you may not have been interested in chasing love and/or you still aren’t. Not really. You don’t have faith that people aren’t crazy or you’re going to get in some situation that blows up in your face, but also don’t want to make anyone mad or let them down, with a partner or single, could also be family related. This could be due to some kind of wound, if you say no people will leave. If that’s the case, do you really want people that can’t respect your boundaries? Again I’m not seeing anything crazy, you’re allowed to decide for yourself what is yes and what is no, and people that care about you are expected to understand that, it comes with loving you properly. You hate crowds and loud noises, it would be silly to force you to go to concerts - say no, it’s not for you. Simple. I would assume your people know you like that. You’re more of a tea & biscuits 🫖 kind of person, that’s the example I got and laughed. But if you don’t say anything, then you’re leading people to believe you like xyz and you don’t, you can’t be upset when they don’t understand. You shouldn’t make anyone mad being yourself, that’s a them problem they can deal with.

In your close relationships, this is something that really stresses you out, makes you feel insecure, fearful, indecisive, why though? Doing so will benefit your Growth, it’s your whole lesson of the year over time, and you will Ascend 🎈 to a higher level of maturity and consciousness from being more secure in your own energy with your own preferences. Other people demand their needs be met, it looks like you’re just asking gently. Or you’re being encouraged to. You hate broccoli 🥦 PERIOD. You’re allowed to! It’s your life. I don’t get anyone being against you. If you’re confident about it, who cares? Some people out here with 20 wives, or living in vans on mountains, or TikTok dancing on guard rails or some ish - do you boo 💜 If you want it and it scares you, it’s probably the right thing to do. Someone said that, idk who. If you don’t then you don’t, what else is there? Indecision, you go back and forth or may not even know for sure. If your red flags 🚩 are waving, consider them - Temperance and Hanged Man - take your time and pick it apart, and when you make a decision own it, again nothing feels sudden or unexpected here. You’ve tried broccoli 100 damn times, enough. You know you 💯 If people refuse or give you problems, consider whether they’re hindering your growth - that’s no bueno. Would they put up with the same? Would you expect them to?

For work it’s a similar energy, either you’re super ambitious but afraid to step on toes, afraid you don’t have the cooperation you’d need in order to achieve xyz - or people just kinda bulldoze through your boundaries and rush in with demands and bs you’re expected to meet on the spot. That could be your actual job for someone, a runner, deliverer, driver maybe. You could travel but it’s last minute, and if so it’s happened more than once, like “you’re needed in Mexico day after tomorrow great thanks.” And you just do it. You give off a very passive energy and due to this it’s like people think they can walk all over you, whereas I bet they wouldn’t do that to someone more assertive & confident.

It feels like you haven’t said anything, or if you did, it was/is in a passive sort of comment or something that isn’t picked up on. It’s like others are not learning because you’re not speaking up, not wanting to make anyone upset, not wanting them to just not send you to Mexico anymore. Cooperation is here, it’s also showing you’re exhausted, and possibly breadcrumbed with later, later, later, never happens - at some point you’re going to get sick of it. And still be nice, Temperance is kind and emotionally balanced, while at the same time you’re needing to address your needs directly and be taken seriously. Maybe your hours were changed “temporarily” and it’s been years, clearly not temporary. It’s like Spirit is putting you into forced confrontation on purpose because this is something you need to learn & get more comfortable with, so you can move up, meet your goals, get the cooperation you deserve, you’ve waited long enough.

Basically, if you want something, you’re gonna have to flat out say so, maybe more than once. You don’t have to be rude to be direct but also idk have them repeat it back, give you a date, “per my last email,” ask if you would need to discuss this issue with someone higher up the chain - hold people accountable. Receipts bish 🧾 If that thought terrifies you it’s not time, your Intuition will let you know when you’ve had enough, it’s connected to Exhausted…it’ll take a lot of pushing to get you there but you’ll get there. You could even discuss the issue with coworkers and get support that way, the whole lot of ya confronting the boss like “hey wtf is going on with Sag and this thing?” Some of you may even decide to leave a job or a branch of a job because you’re fed up, and if so the new place feels more open to your input or willing to do what you ask, they listen. There could be a work trip that’s just…ugh, and you never want to go back to this specific place ever again, if so you’ll say so. I’m getting the meditation again here, some kind of trip is not great or inconvenient. A lot of waiting, delays, (minor) disasters, never going there again. Overall, you’ve got a very balanced & peaceful kind of energy, it’s just whether you let other people run all over you because they know you’ll agree. Maybe…don’t agree. Peacefully decline 😌 Its part of your Growth, one that will make you feel more successful, confident, and better able to make moves towards the goals you have (have had, I’m hearing, most feels not new) but may have been indecisive or going back and forth on. I don’t see rejection, that’s a plus, maybe distractions or dude can’t hear but, speak up. Speak more generally, I’m hearing, and I’m seeing Uranus move into Gemini, that’s on May 20 - you may become a lot chattier then or attract people that are, they can help encourage this as well, or even speak for you or back you up. Be patient and kind with yourself like you are with others, expect what you give, and if it’s not that then you’re not wrong for making it clear what you expect. I’m also hearing you don’t have to overexplain or apologize for inconveniencing people either. You’re really growing into yourself this year, I like that you’re not being an ass about it that’s refreshing…the same can’t often be said for most of us 👀 You’re growing into all sides of your personality with grace, even the more assertive bits, we all need to defend ourselves at some point and Spirit’s pushing you to get to that point, probably because you deserve more than you’re getting. Money, respect, consideration, time even, notice. In some way, maybe several ways, depends on you. Who could even say no to that? 💜

First Spirit said to ignore the sparrow card, it was just for the picture, and now at the end they said “flip it over,” and it says Change. Do something differently than you normally do - this is what it’s talking about. Everyone has boundaries, you’re not reaching, or mean, or bad, for making it clear what yours are. You’re just not confident or assertive naturally from what I see, and I’m hearing “practice makes perfect.” Or look into this online with people who have struggled with this even, you’re never the only one 💯 A work/home balance could be a constant for most of you, especially when you’re being dismissed or expected to check all the boxes of both all of the time. Virgo/Pisces is martyr/victim and that’s what’s coming through when it comes to this for you - enough is enough babe, you get to decide how things work best for you personally and others can adjust not always you. Would people rather watch you snowball down a mountain? You’d rather not thanks. Lord knows everyone else makes demands, with no care, at least you do care from what I see 💟 I’m seeing you get the support you need though, a lot of this is being poked to the point of you finally doing something about it because no, you can’t travel in a day, please don’t ask again. While you’re focused on everyone else’s demands, where are yours, how are others trying to meet them or give what/how you’re giving?

Zodiac Signs: Pisces, Sagittarius, Cancer, Scorpio & Leo

Numbers: 25, 38, 13, 52, 79 & 74

7777 with goals and ambitions you have regarding your work, and fear you won’t have the cooperation you need - or fear to even start, what if it fails? Spirit is referring to the sparrow on this card again and I’m hearing “but what if you fly?” 🐦 Birds may be very significant for you this year or in general. You will get the Cooperation you need and whatever it is will be successful 🏆

[spell-cleaver]

Portrait of an Empire

Flufftober

Day 5: Acorn, Chestnut, Pinecone

It almost seemed ridiculous to formally carry out the test. But Sheev insisted—just to be sure. Luke was, when he touched it, a supernova in the Force. A live wire that shot through right to the heart of anybody nearby. But he wasn’t sure he could trust that.

Sheev refused to examine that more closely. Why would he not trust the Force? He had trusted his sense in the Force for as long as he had been alive. When he reached out to Luke in the Force, and young Luke reached back, alight with joy and jubilation, what other feeling could send static through his chest and set his heart fluttering than the Sith Lord’s eager recognition of a well of enormous, untapped power?

But he suspected, somehow, that that feeling was not the Force.

So he had to test Luke. Just to be sure.

In the background, Vader hovered.

“That’s an acorn,” Luke said surely, sitting nicely on the sofa.

 Sheev nodded and flicked to the next image on the datapad in his hands. He’d checked behind him; they were in Luke and Vader’s quarters, and no mirror or window or polished surface could possibly be reflecting the image. Vader favoured warm, soft surfaces in their quarters. Less for Luke to bang his head on.

“A— a conker,” Luke said. “No, a nut. Chestnut?”

Was that what that was? All Sheev saw was a round, brown pip. He had never cared much for nature.

Another image, this one of a more distinct, bristling shape. Sheev thought that he’d seen those on the ground a lot around his family’s estate as a child, but he hadn’t cared what they were then, either.

“Pinecone!” Luke crowed.

Why were all these images nature based? Sheev flicked a few ahead, until they were going through ships. Here too, Luke called out the exact model and make. The mind and interests of the young.

Vader stirred after the fourteenth image. “Is this still necessary?”

“A few more,” Sheev insisted.

“Candlewick flower from Alderaan,” Luke said gravely. Sheev barely glanced at the screen. It was a flower, sure. All he knew about candlewicks was the yearly show the Organas put on in Aldera and invited senators to come and see—he couldn’t be expected to recognise one that wasn’t glowing.

“Enough,” Vader said. “Are you satisfied that he has the Force? You know as well as I the basicness of that test.”

Sheev switched off the datapad. “I do,” he said. He smiled at Luke. “Congratulations, my boy. We can be sure of your power.”

Luke grinned and jumped to his feet. He did have power, Sheev told himself. He did have power—so he needed to be manipulated. Sheev needed to cultivate a relationship with him. He had to rely on his grandfather; he had to trust him totally.

So it was alright that Sheev bent down to give Luke a tight hug and smiled against his cheek. It was all in service of the Sith.

[thelanternsglow]

Virgo in 2025: Yearly Forecast

Overview:

2025 is a year of balancing personal transformation with external growth for Virgo. With Saturn and Neptune influencing your 8th house, you’ll dive into themes of intimacy, shared resources, and emotional healing. Jupiter’s blessings on your career and long-term goals bring opportunities for advancement and recognition, while eclipses shake up your identity, partnerships, and spiritual beliefs. Retrogrades throughout the year provide time for reflection, especially in relationships and communication.

Major Themes for Virgo in 2025

1. Deep Transformation (Saturn and Neptune in Aries):

Saturn and Neptune in your 8th house bring focus to shared resources, debt, and emotional healing. This is a powerful year for confronting fears and embracing personal growth.

2. Career Opportunities (Jupiter in Taurus):

Until May, Jupiter in your 9th house of higher learning and exploration encourages expansion through education, travel, or spiritual growth. From May onward, its move into your 10th house offers career advancement and public recognition.

3. Identity and Partnership Shifts (Eclipses):

Eclipses in your sign and your 7th house of relationships prompt profound changes in how you see yourself and how you relate to others.

4. Relationship Reevaluation (Venus and Mercury Retrogrades):

With Venus and Mercury retrograding at key times, you’ll revisit themes of self-worth, communication, and relationships.

Key Transits and Their Influence on Virgo

Jupiter in Taurus (Until May 25, 2025):

Jupiter in your 9th house inspires growth through learning and exploration. It’s a great time to pursue education, travel abroad, or engage in spiritual practices that broaden your perspective.

Jupiter in Gemini (May 26, 2025 – June 9, 2026):

When Jupiter moves into your 10th house, professional opportunities abound. Use this transit to showcase your talents, take on leadership roles, and build a reputation for success.

Saturn and Neptune in Aries (March 30 – October 22, 2025):

Saturn demands responsibility in matters of intimacy and shared resources, while Neptune encourages emotional and spiritual healing. Therapy or introspective practices may be particularly effective during this time.

Venus Retrograde (March 1 – April 12, 2025):

Retrograding through your 8th and 7th houses, Venus asks you to reassess relationships, financial partnerships, and how you value emotional intimacy.

Mercury Retrogrades:

• Capricorn (January 1–15): Reflect on creative projects and personal expression.

• Taurus (April 22–May 15): Revisit educational or travel plans.

• Virgo (August 4–28): A powerful retrograde in your sign invites self-reflection and personal reinvention.

• Sagittarius (November 25–December 15): Reevaluate family dynamics and home life.

Eclipses:

• March 13, 2025 (Lunar Eclipse in Virgo): A significant moment of self-realization and emotional release.

• March 29, 2025 (Solar Eclipse in Aries): Brings new beginnings in shared resources or emotional intimacy.

• September 7, 2025 (Lunar Eclipse in Pisces): Highlights relationship dynamics and the need for balance in partnerships.

• September 21, 2025 (Solar Eclipse in Virgo): Sparks new opportunities for personal growth and self-expression.

Virgo 2025: Month-by-Month Highlights

January – March:

The year starts with a focus on creative projects and emotional depth. Venus retrograde in March encourages introspection around relationships and shared finances.

April – May:

Jupiter in Taurus and a Mercury retrograde in your 9th house make this a great time to revisit travel plans or educational pursuits. Focus on aligning your long-term goals with your values.

June – September:

Jupiter in Gemini lights up your career sector, offering opportunities for advancement. The eclipses bring transformative energy to your identity and relationships.

October – December:

As the year ends, focus on integrating the personal growth you’ve experienced. Mercury retrograde in Sagittarius asks you to reflect on home and family dynamics.

Tips for Navigating 2025

1. Embrace Change: Eclipses in your sign bring personal transformation. Be open to redefining who you are and what you stand for.

2. Strengthen Relationships: Saturn and Neptune in your 8th house invite deeper intimacy and collaboration. Build trust and address fears around vulnerability.

3. Focus on Career Goals: Jupiter in Gemini offers professional growth. Take calculated risks and seek recognition for your efforts.

4. Pause and Reflect: Retrogrades are opportunities for self-improvement. Use them to refine your plans and reconnect with your inner truth.

Affirmation for Virgo in 2025

“I welcome transformation and growth, trusting that every change aligns me with my highest potential. I balance my ambition with self-awareness, creating harmony in all areas of life.”

[pimpin-not-simpin-moth]

What benefits do your models get?

- 💜

A…generous paycheque. Free entry & drinks to my clubs. 10% discount on VoxTech products.

Fame. Recognition.

Protection from the yearly exterminations if you make it to the top 10% of high earners.

And so much more…

~ Valentino, Overlord of Lust & Depravity

[allwaswell16]

Hi anitra. Do you read wip? I would like to recommend christmas, again and again by violetlilachyacinth. I think this fic needs more recognition.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60937336

Hi! I do read WIPs! Not super regularly, but it is Advent season so I am reading a few right now (although I got behind oof). Thanks so much for the rec! This looks very cute!

Christmas, Again and Again by violetlilachyacinth

“Woah,” Louis says in fake shock. “Would you look at that, a sweater! How original!” Even so, he immediately gets up and pulls off his current sweater and puts on the new one. It’s light blue, because Harry had known what he wanted. It’s a beautiful sweater.

“Maybe some year I’ll design and knit you one myself,” Harry says, only half joking.

“Seriously?” Louis says, his eyes shining. “Is that a promise?”

Harry can’t stop smiling. “Yeah. I promise.”

“Hey, Harry, can you make us all one, too? Can you make mine extra fluffy?” Niall asks from somewhere off to the side.

“No,” Louis answers for him, pushing the sleeves up as he reaches for a slice of the cake Harry made. “Only me.”

--- Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson meet at Christmas as freshmen in high school. Their lives converge and diverge, with Christmas serving as their yearly checkpoint. Every year, it's different. Every year, it's also sort of the same.

[hologramcowboy]

You've mentioned that actors should present a certain image of themselves. How can actors do this without getting typecast?

How do you think the industry has changed since the 90s/early 2000s, specifically in terms of marketing? Then vs Now with social media and all.

Sorry for all the questions, I just really like hearing you talk about the industry! You seem quite knowledgeable on the subject. Have a good day!

Please never feel sorry or apologise for asking questions. 🧡

At the beginning of their careers all actors must typecast themselves to fit into the industry. They are meant to find their main types and roll with that and promote themselves accordingly, however, once an actor gains name recognition he has to know when the right moment comes to switch gears and go for the roles he actually covets. An actor has to adapt and shift their branding according to their yearly goals.

In the early 90s/early 2000s actor got picked by casting directors from a huge pile of printed headshots and in person auditions were more common, so was the casting couch (just ask Danneel lol) Nowadays, due to digitalisation and the covid era, casting has shifted greatly to the point where actors who never got opportunities before are now getting cast in prominent roles and they are getting cast in these roles mostly through self taped auditions.This is why an actor’s marketing materials must now more than ever be on point. Jensen needs to decide what type of career he wants and choose projects, headshots, marketing materials, posts, etc that ALL align with that chosen direction. He needs to stop moulding to the character and begin moulding his career into what he truly desires. Dropping the macho outdated persona could be a good point to begin from, it’s not his real type anyway. The more he will focus on nailing his current main types and essence(based on where he deems himself in the following period of time) the more castable he will be.

While for some projects social media followers are important, for most, acting skills are crucial. Today’s market is focused on the Know-Like-Trust factor. In other words, industry professionals must know who you are, what you are about, they must find you likeable and, most of all, you should be a trustworthy professional. Sometimes, being trustworthy may even trump talent or social reach. The Know part is where Jensen is lacking big time, people don’t know what he stands for because he never stands for anything and never takes responsibility. People like him for his looks and charisma but they don’t know him, this is something that will make it very hard for Jensen to end up on shortlists for projects especially as a lead.

Sorry for hijacking your questions to talk about Jensen but I deeply loved them and I always love talking about Jensen too so I married both things.

Overall, I would say that, thankfully, compared to the 90s/2000s minorities are getting more opportunities and geographical borders are becoming more and more irrelevant casting wise due to the self tape options. All the sex scandals have contributed to making the industry safer and there is much more representation for all types of people in tv shows and movies. I am really grateful that everything seems to be evolving towards a more open industry that is no longer afraid to take on heavy topics and create catharsis. Hopefully, I’ve answered questions, if you want more detail about anything just let me know. Sending good vibes you way