Ten Books to Know Me
@aboxthecolourofheartache reblogged her version of this from ages ago but she'd tagged whoever saw it and it sounds very fun and difficult so let's do it!
Tris's Book by Tamora Pierce - I had a habit as a kid of always picking up the second book in a series, so this was the first of Tamora Pierce's books I read. Emelan had an effect on me on a microcosmic level, I'm pretty sure. Anyway, the protag of a whole world of mine is named Tris now, in homage to Trisana Chandler, so. the particulate is still kicking around in my brain.
Ptolemy's Gate by Jonathan Stroud - Another childhood FAVE. This series as a whole started fucking with what I understood a book to be. Also the ending of it has a vice grip on me to this day, and it is probably why so much of my writing is very vibey and favors ambiguous endings.
Cyrano de Bergerac - This was the first assigned reading I had in high school that I utterly LOVED. I love this play so much, I love the tragedy, I love the quiet sorrow. This was also the first proper tragedy that I remember really loving.
The Opposite of Loneliness by Marina Keegan - This is a book of poetry and short stories by a Yale creative writing student who was killed in a car crash very soon after graduating, compiled by her professor after her death. I read it repeatedly in college; it is really quite lovely.
Underland by Robert Macfarlane - Apologies to Box who wanted reading recommendations, but she is who introduced me to this book if I remember correctly, and I have spent the two years since I read it habitually picking up Macfarlane's writing without even realizing it. Absolutely phenomenal writing.
Staying with the Trouble by Donna Haraway - @ professor Haraway I know you are a semi-retired scholar and also in the most expensive college town on earth but are you looking for research assistants cuz uh
The Mushroom at the End of the World by Anna Tsing - I actually read both Staying with the Trouble and this book on the same weekend in the start of 2021. I compromised on not including Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake, which I felt was very cliche of me, by including this book, which had as much of an effect. Read those three and Pantheologies by Mary-Jane Rubenstein and you will have some semblance of an idea of what the spiritual portion of my brain looks like. In the interest of not writing the same blurb four times I left the latter two off but know they make up a little microcosm of 'you could make a religion out of this' for me.
The Cat Who Saved Books by Sosuke Natskukawa - A Japanese novel about a cat who appears to a teenager after the death of his grandfather, a bookseller. I read it when I was very frustrated with trying to read contemporary fiction and it was a bright spot among that. (I am still very frustrated with the state of contemporary fiction and this book remains a light.)
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer - Okay I read this one most recently out of this list (over the summer) but it had been on my list for a long time and it really does live up to the hype because it is just so luminous in every sense.
Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer - I had to put this one last simply because HOLY HELL. Rewired my brain. This is the goal I aspire to, this is the dream I dream, this is the highest peak among the mountain range of writing aspirations that I climb. If I can one day write anything even akin to the Southern Reach trilogy I will be ready to die, but that is an utterly unachievable goal so God's just gonna have to let me live forever, I guess.
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‘Because she likes people,’ said the witch, striding ahead. 'She cares about 'em. Even the stupid, mean, drooling ones, the mothers with the runny babies and no sense, the feckless and the silly and the fools who treat her like some kind of a servant. Now THAT’S what I call magic–seein’ all that, dealin’ with all that, and still goin’ on. It’s sittin’ up all night with some poor old man who’s leavin’ the world, taking away such pain as you can, comfortin’ their terror, seein’ 'em safely on their way…and then cleanin’ 'em up, layin’ 'em out, making 'em neat for the funeral, and helpin’ the weeping widow strip the bed and wash the sheets–which is, let me tell you, no errand for the fainthearted–and stayin’ up the next night to watch over the coffin before the funeral, and then going home and sitting down for five minutes before some shouting angry man comes bangin’ on your door 'cuz his wife’s havin’ difficulty givin’ birth to their first child and the midwife’s at her wits’ end and then getting up and fetching your bag and going out again…. We all do that, in our own way, and she does it better'n me, if I was to put my hand on my heart. THAT is the root and heart and soul and center of witchcraft, that is. The soul and center!'
Mistress Weatherwax smacked her fist into her hand hammering out her words. 'The…soul…and…CENTER!’ Echoes came back from the trees in the sudden silence. Even the grasshoppers by the side of the track had stopped sizzling.
'And Mrs Earwig,’ said Mistress Weatherwax, her voice sinking to a growl, 'Mrs. Earwig tells her girls it’s about cosmic balances and stars and circles and colors and wands and…and toys, nothing but TOYS!' She sniffed. 'Oh, I daresay they’re all very well as decoration, somethin’ nice to look at while you’re workin’, somethin’ for show, but the start and finish, THE START AND FINISH, is helpin’ people when life is on the edge. Even people you don’t like. Stars is easy, people is hard.’
She stopped talking. It was several seconds before birds began to sing again.
'Anyway, that’s what I think,’ she added in the tones of someone who suspects that she might have gone just a bit further than she meant to.
--Terry Pratchett, "A Hat Full of Sky"
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Gif art credit to: @viridianv0id
Wally loves physical contact, I’d like to think it’s one of his love languages alongside quality time and words of affirmation, but mainly he adores hand holding; Sure it felt like holding a styrofoam packing peanut made of felt but it’s reassuring and grounding for the both of you.
Bonus points: he fiddles with your fingers when he’s in need of something to fidget.
Wally hates, hates, hates crowded areas.
This is based on what clown said about Wally going to Walmart and immediately wanting to leave.
(This maybe a bit projecting on my half) He gets overwhelmed easily despite how self assured he is. That’s just his mask and he truly hates being overwhelmed whilst in a crowded room.
Let’s say for example he goes to see a theatre but sees how loud and crowded the room is with families, and suddenly Wally doesn’t seem all that up to watching the pantomime anymore and would rather watch a prerecorded one at home where it’s less chaotic.
It’s too much for Wally. It drains him and leaves him wanting compensation cuddles or to be left on his own if he’s not feeling up to being touched after that.
(I work in catering for a local theatre and let me tell ya…when shows are on…it’s honestly too much. Too crowded, too loud for me and all I want to do is go home. Thankfully it’s few and far between cuz when they’re on, i’ve already done my shift.)
Painting, drawing, sketching is Wally’s therapeutic outlet. Something he does not only as a favoured pastime but more so as an healthy method to expressing his inner most feelings because after all, art is about expressing your innermost thoughts. So being the main star brought about a ton of weight for Wally to uphold an image of perfection; which is only made worse the longer he’s forced to act in opposite of what he’s actually like.
There’s a reason why his well known place beneath a tree and -probably- away from the rest of bubbly town of welcome.
Likes to frame any and all art done by you on the walls of his home, even if it’s shit, it’s already up on the wall because Wally loves your artistic approach to things…especially that weird lump that’s supposed to be a dog…you’ve made an attempt and that’s all Wally gives a shit about. (This goes out to my fellow people who aren’t as artistically gifted.)
Wally is your personal hype puppet. He’s so encouraging in whatever you do but please maybe don’t attempt in climbing up house and using him as a jumping off point and into the pool below…please do anything except that. He’s willing to indulge you in apple picking, water balloon fights -as long as his pompadour is covered by a shower cap or something- but not to the extent where you could injure yourself.
Wally probably doesn’t understand what injuries are but let me live and say that even if you do injure yourself, he’s got the cutest array of bandages, plasters and the like as he stands before you like;
Wally: do you want the hello kitty plaster or the moshi monsters ones? 🤨🧐
You: hello kitty plz 🥺🤕
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HI BBY COULD U WRITE A grumpy!steddie x sunshine!reader , they are all moved in together & its nearing christmas SO reader is the one whos decorating , maybe the boys neglect to see how excited she is & they end up feeling really guilty cuz they just see her putting all of it away 🥹🥹
ty for requesting :D — the boys catch you taking down christmas decorations after not being supportive about your love for the holidays (ditzy!reader, hurt/comfort-ish, 1.3k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
Eddie rouses in the early morning, weightless and unusually cold. The first thing he notices is that you’re not wrapped around him like a koala and snoring softly in his ear. How could he not? The lack of you has always been innately palpable.
With his eyes still closed, he reaches across the mattress in search of you. He figures Steve must’ve pulled you into him at some point during the night. The two of you are probably tangled together and hogging all the covers at this very moment.
“Ow,” Steve winces groggily when Eddie accidentally smacks him in the face.
The boy turns towards the voice and squints through the haze of leftover slumber. He squishes Steve’s scruffy cheeks together with a pale hand. “You’re not Sunshine,” Eddie observes gruffly, still playful despite being half-asleep.
Steve swats him away with his eyes still shut. “Obviously not.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” the honey-haired boy slurs, right before leaning forward to shove his face into your pillow. His next words are muffled and nearly inaudible. “Bathroom, maybe?”
Eddie goes to call for you. His chest inflates with a deep inhale, prepared to shout for you like a needy child. Something clatters distantly in the living room before he can. It’s so obviously you — clumsy, well-meaning you. The always doing things you shouldn’t be doing on your own because you’re too sweet to ask for help you.
Both of them know this, so they rise from their sleep without a word shared between them. They find you trying to steady yourself on a rickety step stool, halfway crouched on the highest level with sparkling tinsel in your hand.
The two boys catch your eye, one as equally sleepy as the other.
Eddie’s hair has been extra fluffed by the cotton of his pillow. The wild curls halfway conceal his swollen features. He’s in one of Steve’s sweatshirts and a pair of thin boxers. Steve, meanwhile, is in a shirt so tight you’re almost sure it’s yours. The fabric has risen with sleep and his plaid pants hang low accordingly. The bottom of his tummy and the tip of his happy trail are on display for you.
They’re effortlessly beautiful. Both of them. But their presence makes you grimace.
Your attempts to do all this quietly have obviously failed.
“Did I wake you?” you whisper, just in case.
“Yeah, you woke us— what the hell are you doing?” Steve wonders as he rushes to you, very suddenly alert. He helps you off the old, uneven ladder with hands that are impossibly warm, even over your shorts.
Eddie stands ahead of you and takes the tinsel from your hands.
“I was un-decorating,” you shrug.
“Un-decorating?” Eddie scoffs.
Steve squints at you, features swollen and lined with indentions of sleep, still not quite understanding. “Okay… Why?”
“’Cause you guys said you hated it.”
“Hated what?”
“All of it!” you retort, still a bit vaguely, and gesture all around you.
The living room looks a little like the North Pole puked all over it. There’s an intricately decorated Christmas tree in the corner, perfectly fluffed and packed to the brim with vividly-colored ornaments. String lights are draped over the ceiling, and you’ve hooked ornaments over them, too. Every doorway is lined with sparkling tinsel and lit-up stars and ribbons tied into bows.
It was beautiful. Well, you thought it was, anyway. No one else seemed to agree with you.
You try not to let it hurt you too much, but the subtle ache in the pit of your chest is almost impossible to ignore.
“We didn’t say we hated it!” Steve insists with a wavering voice. “…Did we?”
Eddie makes a vague I don’t know type of sound. He leans his wild head to the side and shrugs once. “I’m pretty sure you did call it tacky, actually.”
“Well, you said it looked like a Hallmark movie threw up in here!” Steve argues without thinking twice.
The older boy squints his puffy, chocolate eyes. “Shut up, dude.”
“You shut up!”
“See, this is why I’m taking it down,” you laugh over their bickering. You smile despite your distant hurt. “You obviously hate it. Both of you.”
Steve sighs. He stops being annoyed with Eddie for a second to give you his full attention. He goes distinctly soft when he looks at you, structured and sleepy features visibly melting. His long fingers give your sides a squeeze.
“We don’t hate it, babe. I promise. We’re just not, like, as into it as you are.”
“And that’s okay! Right?” Eddie blurts from beside him. He crosses two arms over his chest and shrugs. “I mean, we don’t have to like all the same things as each other, you know? What’s important is that we all support each other…”
Steve glances over his shoulder and sends the boy an incredulous gape, half confused and half impressed.
Eddie cowers beneath it. “…Or whatever. I don’t know. Stop looking at me like that.”
“Well, I feel super supported right now.” You laugh but it’s a little bit forced, weighed down by hidden emotion. You’re obviously still upset about the whole thing — even if you’re trying to pretend that you’re not.
“Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” Steve sighs and wraps you up in his arms. He presses you into his chest, palms spreading over your back and rubbing gently along the length of it. He buries his nose at the crown of your head — you smell like a mixture of your shampoo, his hairspray, and Eddie’s body wash.
You hold him back but shake your head at his affection.
“No. It’s okay. It’s just Christmas decorations— it’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not stupid,” Steve insists before the words can properly leave your mouth. He pulls back from you, just far enough to hold your face between his palms. He smiles softly down at you, so quiet it’s barely there. His thumb swipes over the sleep lines pressed into your cheek. “You were really excited about it, and we were assholes. And we’re sorry… Right, Eds?”
Eddie’s face scrunches from where he stands beside you. “Hey, I was preparing my own I’m sorry speech over here, Harrington.”
Steve’s hands drop from your face when you turn around to smile at the wild-haired boy. “Yeah? Let me hear it.”
Eddie brings you into his arms next. His hug is tighter than Steve’s, borderline smothering as his arms cross over your shoulders rather than your back. He hides his face in your hair when you tuck yourself into his chest.
“I love you,” he starts, muffled from where he’s pressed against you. The end of each sentence is followed by a soft kiss to your head. “And it’s not stupid. And we’re sorry for being assholes.”
Your laugh is stifled by his t-shirt. He smells like smoke and Steve’s body wash and your perfume.
“That’s exactly what I said,” Steve whines, his pout evident in his voice.
“Yeah, but I said ‘I love you,’” Eddie argues like a child. “So I win.”
“Well, guess what— I love you too, babe.”
You laugh again. It’s more audible this time when you pull away and turn to Steve, grinning all stupid as you grab his arm to drag him over. “I forgive both of you, so you both win,” you assure when the honey-haired boy towers over your back to join your embrace. With both of them holding you like this, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so safe.
“Ha!” you hear Steve scoff, followed by a smacking kiss to Eddie’s cheek.
The wild-haired boy rolls his eyes and pulls slightly back to look at you. “Want us to help you hang all this stuff back up?” he wonders, then cuts himself off. “Actually. Nope. We’re gonna help you hang all this stuff back up. Whether you like it or not, Sunshine.”
He’s always called you that. He said it was because of your smile, but when you beam up at him, he realizes he might’ve gotten it all wrong. You’re brighter than the sun — than a thousand suns — and if he had to choose between sunlight and the way you’re looking at him right now, he’d choose you in every lifetime.
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Ok but polygot reader who's like a pro singer who sings im all the languages they know all across teyvat cuz y not <3
Having a duet with yunjin and xinyan
Harmonising with barbara
Singing for nilou's dance
I WANNA SING LULLABIES TO MY CHILDREN SO BADLYYYYYYYY
Orah my beloved genius you <333
LMAO SORRY I JUST HAD TO USE THIS GIF
Orbit: Short Headcanons-ish
Stars: mostly Mond/Liyue characters, mentions of other singers/musicians
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known. & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
☆
U get to sing a solo with Barbara yes!!
but u know whats more important? whos more hype abt ur songs/diff languages???
Venti.
Venti is.
Venti is vibrating with barely contained manic energy
poor guy is sick of always being familiar with songs, nothing is "new" to him, but ur songs?? they're from a different world, and he can't know any of them!!!
Venti's has a surprising amount of strength in those noodle arms bc ur suffocating in his hug rn-
He is constantly begging asking you to sing for him, sing in public, he'll put you on the Barbatos statue hands just so everyone can hear you,
constantly pleading politely requesting if he can lay in your lap under the Windrise tree while you sing slow songs
Hogs you from Barbara, Klee, and anyone else in Mondstadt who would want to personally hear ur singing/duet with you lmao
u had to bring in the cavalry (Rex Lapis/Zhongli) to get a week away from him lol
luckily the retired god was more than motivated to bring u to Liyue, after all he spends a fair amount of his time listening to operas/music
DUETS DUETS DUETS!!
Yunjin blew ur eardrums out of excitement the first time u copied her singing perfectly, kidnapped u for an entire week of festivities where u were the special singer guest <33
Xinyan looked at you like u hung the stars in the sky for both playing a little guitar/singing to her rock music (as she's used to instrumental rock so far bc its been just her)
Qiqi, Klee, Yao yao, Diona all ask (in their own ways lol) for lullabies,
they each wanted you to sing to them every night but it wasn't possible... so u got cloud retainer to invent a machine to record some lullabies you've sung in each of their countries languages so they can sleep 🥺<333
and the dancers.
you cannot escape the dancers.
Nilou, yunjin, eula, gaming, ayaka, doesn't matter, u cannot have peace.
u will sing for them all at some point, u will have repeated performances, u will attract crowds, u will be going on a world tour
(Lyney has also kidnapped u for his magic shows to show off ur singing in French)
☆
finally scheduled a post and am able to rlly get at my asks more frequently now thank goodness
im so ready to open ask box again 😭😭
hope u guys have a fun Tuesday!! :)
Safe Travels 0rah,
💀♒
If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko
@kiyomi-uchiha777
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