#But. well. The convincing isn't working. It's strange because I had such a great time with the wife earlier.

[moonsaver]

hi hi double yandere anon again -- thought i'd put this in a separate ask :] this is only if you wanna write it, but normal sunday with a yandere reader is giving me some great thoughts. like, reader flipping the script on him, usually so composed and with everything in control, and sunday has to deal with being entirely at their mercy. idk having usual character dynamics reversed is always fun to me, so! again tysm and have a great day!! :}

Hello anon! Since both of these inbox messagws are from you, hope you dont mind that i coupled them lol. Sorry it took so long for me to respond. Im glad to know you liked that piece!

Anyways, this is a very interesting dynamic in my opinion..

Sunday x yan!reader.....

Listen. You might actually be able to convince him to a degree. Lets be for real, this man is probably STARVED for some good loving. But like almost all hsr characters, he'd be unnerved by it at first. The most repulsive situation isn't the fact you're obsessed with him, but rather that he doesn't have control over this situation. You, somehow, do.

Sunday himself is a bit.. intense in my opinion. He's had his fair share of suitors, but most likely not many or any lovers at all. He's isolated to a degree, and doesn't feel like he's desperate for love.

But when yan!reader shows up, proclaims having oh so much love for sunday.. it turns the cogs in his head a bit.

Our dear yan actually has a good chance of winning Sunday over, depending on how you might present yourself inititally. It's like when you finally get a taste of something you didn't want, but realise you've needed almost your entire life.

He's reluctant, as.. minorly expected? But not for the reasons he should be. It's the control factor that's holding him back. His secondary concern is actually more logical – he doesn't know you. And it does unnerve him slightly when you give him the tip of the iceberg of how much you might know.

But, somehow, someway, if you manage to render Sunday unable to defend himself, or kidnap him, or strip him of his reliable abilities?

Boy he is freaking. Out.

He's speaking with a strained voice, his eyes almost blown wide open, his breathing is heavy, slow and shallow, as he desperately tries to stay calm, but every alarm in his head is about to burst from the signals at the loss of control. He's like a rabid dog that's shown a glass of water. Almost snarls at you. Hates hates hates this situation so much, and it's not too soon before he settles quietly with a glare, his mind working relentlessly to weave out of your trap.

But it's a strange pull. He protests and threatens you when you even try doing something – even if its harmless and he would allow you to outside of this situation. But then you wear him down, and you're so gentle with him. You kiss his face and hold him so close and warmly, you listen and even understand his ideals when he talks about them to gauge your personality. This feels as though it's the first time someone truly sees him – scary as it might be, to lay bare all your self, but the very fact you can love him so well makes him.. delirious.

Oh, but he still despises you (for the lack of a stronger word) because of the control aspect. However, instead of planning a heavy punishment for your crime of kidnapping him after he finds a way out.. he may form other methods of payback.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The GED

Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Summary - There's more than one way to be smart. Or so you've been told. But how on Earth do you go about proving that you're not (the stupid, illiterate Avenger) dumb?

Anon's 1K Celebration | The GED Series List

"Can you please just listen to me?" Sam begs you. "I'm telling you this is a bad idea."

"Or it's an amazing idea and it'll all be for the better!" you counter, plating the last of your freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

He snatches a cookie from the plate when he thinks you're not watching, "Or you'll make an already strained relationship like ten times worse."

You glare at him, snatching the cookie back and placing it back on the plate, "Or by then end of the day we'll have a new set of friends."

Bucky groans, entering the room just in time to hear your rebuttal to Sam's negativity, "Please, not more friends. I don't like the ones I have as it is."

"See?" Sam wildly gestures to Bucky. "When do we ever agree on anything? It just proves that this is a terrible idea!"

"Hi," Bucky finally greets you, gently pecking your lips. "Missed you. Now, who exactly are we trying to make friends with?"

"The SHIELD agents downstairs," you blithely reply.

Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you, "Why? They hate us."

"That's exactly what I said!" Sam frantically exclaims.

"Have we ever asked ourselves why they hate us?" you muse. "Maybe we need to be a little nicer to them."

"Or maybe it's because they're bitter and jealous that we're better than them," Sam remarks.

"Well, it's definitely not because of Sam's incredible sense of humility," Bucky sarcastically retorts.

"Shut up," Sam snarks. "And we are better. Our stats are better, we get first pick of assignments, our mission times are like a third of theirs, Fury trusts us a hell of a lot more, and we get all the good snacks."

"And that means we can't be friends?" you rhetorically ask. "We work together all the time!"

"Listen, it's not that bad of a deal," Bucky tries to convince you. "They tolerate us. We tolerate them. It's never caused a problem on missions or anything, so who cares? Not everyone in this world is going to like you."

"Who else doesn't like me?" you frantically question, quirking an eyebrow at Bucky.

"Everyone likes you," Bucky assures you.

"Except the people downstairs," Sam teases.

"That's it!" You throw your hands up in frustration. "I'm going down there. I'm just going to bring these cookies down there and talk to them. They're just people, I'm sure they're all really nice!"

"Nice going," Bucky mutters to Sam, elbowing him in the ribs. "Come on, can't we just leave well enough alone? Isn't it enough that the people who actually know you like you? And not to mention, I like you and I don't like anybody."

"Aww.." you coo at Bucky, caressing his cheek. "Nope, too late, I'm committed."

"Why?" Sam groans. "You're never going to get everyone in the world to like you!"

"Oh, yes, I can! I've spend my entire time out in the world cultivating a personality that's impossible not to like just to satisfy my compulsive people pleasing tendencies."

Bucky's eyebrows furrow as a teasing smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, "People really don't see this side of you enough."

Sam nods, "You're a little scary when you think people don't like you."

"Scary or strangely endearing?" you wonder.

"Scary! Definitely scary!"

Bucky sighs to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You're not going to leave this alone, are you?"

You beam at the two of them, scooping up the plate of cookies, "Not even a little bit."

"It's a bad idea!" Sam bellows down the corridor as you walk away from him.

You roll your eyes as you step onto the elevator and tell Friday to take you to the third floor, where the SHIELD agents typically hung out.

It wasn't a bad idea. It was a great idea. What could go wrong with trying to bring people closer together? They were just people. They were people you had to trust with your lives, why not get to know them a little bit more?

As you step off the elevator, you immediately notice that this layout is almost identical to the one upstairs, except without all the extravagant touches of Tony Stark. You amble down the hallway, looking for a sign of anyone. You figure if the layout is the same, their common room will be in the same place as the one upstairs. 

You're right, you realize when you start to hear faint voices from where you thought their common room would be. Even all the way down the hall, voices echo off the walls as you make your way closer.

You certainly don't mean to eavesdrop or listen into a conversation that you're not supposed to hear.

No, you definitely don't mean to eavesdrop on your new friends, but the open floor plan does nothing to dampen the sounds of their booming voices. 

"Yeah, I leave first thing tomorrow," an unfamiliar voice sighs.

"Who with?" someone else asks.

You don't like the way they spit Bucky's name out in disgust, "Barnes."

"Oh, he's the worst!" the same voice dramatically groans. You silently scoff at the insinuation that Bucky was the worst. "He just sits and stares like he's got nothing better to do."

"Please, I'd take him over his girlfriend any day," a different female scoffs.

You freeze at the mention of yourself. You know you should go. You shouldn't be listening to this. The things they were saying were definitely not nice, but neither was eavesdropping.

"Oh come on, she's not that bad."

You sigh in relief, feeling a little better that someone was defending you. You could go upstairs and tell Sam that he was wrong, not all the SHIELD agents were that bad.

And in the next second, you were proved very, very wrong.

"She's just such an idiot!" Your stomach twists in knots as the same SHIELD agent continues complaining about you. This is what you got for eavesdropping, you tell yourself. They're entitled to their own opinions about you. Better yet, you could change their minds and show them that there was more to you than what meets the eye. You just don't want to believe that people can be this mean, that it's so easy for them to be this casually cruel. They just didn't know you. You were sure that if they did know you all, they wouldn't be saying such awful things. "I don't know what everyone sees in her, but I swear I can see right through that whole Sunshine act."

"I dunno, she acted like that on the last mission I had with her."

"She didn't let up? Not once?"

"Nope! The whole time."

"I'd rather get caught by the bad guys then deal with her for a whole week."

"Who knows, maybe Barnes likes them dumb," the agent giggles. The words feel like a punch to the gut. You want to leave, to turn on your heels and pretend like you never heard a thing, but you're frozen in shock. "Like a Stepford Wife thing."

"If that's true, then they'll be together forever," the same agent, the one going on a mission with Bucky tomorrow, jokes. 

"What do you think they even talk about?"

"Who knows?"

"My question is what kind of adult makes it knowing as little as she does?"

"The kind with Fury in their back pocket."

"Exactly! It's the only reason she's even apart of the team. I'd bet anything she's never even picked up a book."

"Can I tell you guys something?" an agent exclaims. "Someone got into a bunch of their files upstairs. And guess what? She can't even read! She's illiterate! An illiterate Avenger!"

Your blood runs cold. Those were private. They held so much intimate information about you and your history and they were using it to make fun of you, make fun of the people that chose to love you.

You weren't sure what was worse, that they were using your past to make fun of you, or that they knew intimate details of your past, they knew the torment you were put through as a child and they still thought it was funny, they still used it as a way to belittle you. As though you had any control over it. As though it was your fault.

It's only then that you realize that tears are staining your cheeks, that you're still standing in the hallway with a plate of cookies as a peace offering for the SHIELD agents making fun of you and your friends. 

"Probably doesn't even know what a book is. Maybe her next mission should be a day of kindergarten."

It's mean. It's meaner than they have any right to be, but a lightbulb goes off in your head as you finally regain the ability to leave.

You furiously wiped away your tears, storming down the corridor and back to your side of the Compound. You leave the plate of pastries on the counter for your team mates.

And you made a decision right then and there. You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't try to convince them that you were smart. You would just do better. Be better. You were going to show them that you could be more than the illiterate Avenger. 

In that very moment, you decide your very next mission: School.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[loquaciousferret]

Hello, I saw that your requests were open and I recently discovered your blog and... O sir. I love your way of writing, thank you for doing this beautiful work and sharing your magic with the words.

I would like to ask you for something fluff and very loving to our star warrior Din Djarin. Maybe you could do something with the song "She", by the singer Dodie. I think what the song expresses would be just what Din would feel when falling in love.

If this isn't what you usually write or you don't like the idea, that's okay. It serves me well just to let you know what a great writer you are.

I'm sorry if I've expressed myself badly or you don't understand anything I've said, English is not my first language. Thank you for your attention.

Thank you for this adorable message, you have explained yourself really well, never ever apologise for speaking in your second language!

Also this is so strange because I loved this song so much when I was younger and haven’t listened to it in years, you just reminded me of it, so thank you!!

And yess I totally agree, even though Din is so quiet I feel like it’s just by choice and he would have such a way with words and be so poetic when he falls in love with you.

She

Pairing: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x f!reader

Warnings: This is an 18+ blog but this story does not contain any specifically explicit content. Fluff, unrequited love, yearning, forbidden-ish romance, and sadness.

Word Count: 1.1k

You shouldn’t be looking at her like that. The Mandalorian scolds himself.

You had convinced him to let you and Grogu take a walk on this quiet planet, with his protection, of course. After grumbling, he finally agreed. He rarely had the strength to deny you anything you asked him for.

He leans against a tree, at the edge of the meadow, and as much as he tries, he can’t tear his eyes away from your beautiful form. A flowing white dress surrounds you, picking up grass stains around its hem as you twirl in the field with Grogu in your arms. You lift him and throw him, and he giggles and gargles in his own little language. It’s not wrong to simply admire her. He reassures himself. Not when she is just so nice to look at.

Sometimes, in moments like these, Din thinks the maker put you in this galaxy just for him and Grogu. As he watches you play with the child, his heart swells. sunlight catching you and making your eyes glint, goosebumps prickling your bare arms when a breeze runs through the atmosphere. Yes, he could live in these moments forever and never feel any obligation towards anyone or anything else. He yearned to be able to take you into his clan.

You must have called his name a few times before he snaps out of his trance, because you are looking at him inquisitively.

"Sorry, cyare, what was it?" He says, walking towards you.

He is the first Mandalorian you have ever met. You don't understand any of his mother tongue, and he knows that. You understand his nicknames for you are terms of endearment just because of how softly he says them. You don't think you have heard him call you by your name in weeks, always cyare, mesh'la, cyar'ika, ner kar'ta.

"I wondered if you would dance with me, Din."

Having closed the distance between you, he takes you in, the shy smile that you are wearing makes him want to drop to his knees before you. He listens carefully and he hears it too, soft music drifting towards you from the nearby village.

Grogu is on the floor now, head barely visible bobbing above the over-grown grass. He runs around your feet and circles your legs as he chases a butterfly.

You are looking down at him, watching with adoration. Din is sure he wears the same look on his own face, but the object of his gaze is you. He thanks himself for his helmet. His expression would give everything away in an instant, and he knows that can never happen. He would never tell you. He could never say a word.

He hears three or perhaps four string instruments playing together. The sound travels through the wind and envelopes the pair of you in this tender moment. He wishes that you might reserve this side of you for him but the truth is you are full of this same warmth and gentleness towards everyone, it is just your nature.

You reach a small hand out and he takes it in his large, gloved one. Then he changes his mind, and lets go of you again. You seem disappointed but then you gasp as he removes his gloves.

"Din, you don't have to-"

"I want to." He responds simply.

You don't question him further. After all, you don't really understand much of his religion, only fragments from what he chooses to share. You know he can't show you his face but you're not sure what the rule is about skin in general. You don't think he would break the rules for you, as he is disciplined and pious. And yet, the touch of his hand on yours still feels forbidden.

For him, it shoots electricity up his arm and spreads heat to every corner of his body, heart, and soul. He couldn't have imagined how soft and warm your skin would be, and yet it feels entirely natural to touch you. He wants to explore the feeling of every patch of skin on your body from the soles of your feet to the top of your forehead, with his hands, and his lips.

He steps closer to you until there is barely an inch of space between your two torsos. Your frame is inviting, whilst his is cold and dominating, a wide plate of beskar which conceals well what hides beneath it, his heart, which is yours in its entirety.

You sway gently to the music. He is stiff at first but eventually joins you in motion, pushing you away from him to spin you around, which makes your face light up. As he does this, the scent of your hair washes over him as you whip round. You taste of childhood comforts like birthday cake, and story-time, and fall. He thinks to himself. You taste like the galaxy's sweetest fruits, like apple juice and peach.

But to you, he thinks, I must taste of nothing at all.

He yearns to give himself to you. To remove every piece of armour that separates him from you. To allow you to know him. To prove to you that a beating heart and a warm-blooded man did live within this cold suit of armour.

But even if he could do any of this, he knows you wouldn't have him. You would marry someone with a soul as sensitive as yours. Someone who could make you their muse. A poet, or an artist, someone who could paint you in a picture and ensure your memory was eternal. You wouldn't have him. A hunter. A killer.

You continue to twirl in the grass, Grogu now clawing at the hem of your dress, wanting to be lifted and join the pair of you in a dance for three. She, Din thinks, she means everything to me.

And so, he plays along. He brings you gifts back from nearly every hunt. He dances with you when you ask. but he knows you are not truly his. That you can’t and won’t be. As much as it aches to admit this to himself, it feels oddly good to hurt. The pain in his chest when he thinks of how your time together will soon end is what he considers to be proof that the love he feels for you is real.

[writingwithfolklore]

Hey there, wanted to ask some advice for writing. Apologies if you've written this before. I searched your posted links, but didn't find quite was I was looking for. (I may have missed it!)

Let's say you're revising a scene, and something about isn't working, but you're not 100% sure what's off.

What steps do you take to try and understand why the scene doesn't work? What should we be looking for?

Thanks!

Hi! This is a great question, and something I don't think I've really covered yet.

How to Fix an "off" Scene

There are so many things that can make a scene feel 'off' so it might be helpful to begin to narrow it down or try to pinpoint the part that isn't working.

So first, I would read it out loud.

Stop to take notes if you need to--notice where you're running out of breath, where you stumble or stutter, sentences you read wrong the first time or that aren't making the sense/impact/feel you want them to. Sometimes a stutter is just a stutter and doesn't necessarily mean anything is wrong, but sometimes a stutter is from odd word choice. Little things like that can have a big impact on how the scene feels.

The problem may jump out at you already. If not, there are 3 big things to watch out for:

The pacing

I just did a post on controlling pacing here, and here so I won't go too in-depth now, but a good 70% of the time when I rewrite an off scene with pacing in mind, it fixes it. Try rewriting the scene a few times--make different choices, change the weather, change the room, change the people who are there. These little details might just jog something loose here.

2. Intention

A scene may also feel off because the characters are acting strangely or the events are propelling without a propeller. Ask yourself why the characters in the scene are there--both in their purpose to add to it, as well as the 'narrative sense' it makes. Would Character A drive half an hour to join in on this conversation in person? Does their presence add something unique/essential to the conversation?

If it's a dialogue heavy scene, the problem is likely in the dialogue. Think about what each character wants out of the exchange, and how they're going to try to convince the others to give it to them. (Check out more dialogue tips here, here, and here)

3. Placement

It may just be a bad time in the story to have that specific scene. Maybe the flow is a bit off--the last chapter was super intense and now they're suddenly sitting down for tea and the momentum had to screech in its tracks. Try going back and reading what just happened and feel out the transition between scenes--they should have a similar but evolving feel to them. If they are starkly different, that's probably the "off" that you're noticing.

Otherwise, leave and come back to it. There's a chance a scene feels off because you've written it too much and you're looking at it from the lens of the author who knows all, rather than the reader who knows very little and is learning on the fly.

Good luck! Let me know how it goes!

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and worst of both worlds (part 38)

Tw: reminders of the horrors, short chaprer was a little stuck as to how i should progress but i found a way

Part 39

Turns out Yves bought a lot more souvenirs for you. The majority of them had to be refrigerated and because they had high doses of calcium, you couldn't eat them while you're completing your course of antibiotics.

Yves nodded as he peeled a crisp, red apple for you. He initiated another one of your talking marathons, but you're still aware of your surroundings; you're impressed that he could remove the peel using a small fruit knife and in one, long, continuous strip.

You stopped and commented that he has great cutting skills. He chuckled, "Thank you, dear."

Yves cut the fruit into dainty slices. "It takes practice."

He continued while bringing the apple piece to your mouth. You're used to him feeding you now, so you gladly took it without complaint before going back to what you were saying.

It got to the topic of missing classes. You're worried about your grades and you asked him if you could be discharged earlier.

He tilted his head and gave you a pitying smile. "My beloved, (name). You're suffering from a painful infection and a fracture." He pushed another slice to your lips. "Yet, this is still on your mind?"

You said that your parents are paying for your tuition fee. You can't afford to fail anything.

His eyes darted elsewhere in deep thought.

"Have you informed them of your current status?"

You froze. No, you have not. You haven't spoken to them in quite some time, not even texting them. You wonder if they had forgotten you.

You told him you didn't want to burden your parents. They don't have to know what has happened.

He hummed in response. You know Yves has something else to say, but he ultimately decided against it.

Yves cut another apple slice out for you. But you told him you're full, pushing his hand away from you. So he ate it instead, in painfully small nibbles.

__

Yves had to head home early for the day. He told you that he has to work.

You weren't opposed to the idea, because you wanted to be left alone for a while to scroll on your phone in peace before falling asleep for the night. The strange tear holes in your bedsheet didn't bother you, but you did wonder what caused it. In the end, you brushed it off as damages that were already there.

Upon waking up, you thought it was strange that Montgomery hadn't shown himself up in a while. No texts, no calls... it's as if he disappeared from the face of the planet. While that is great, you couldn't help but feel... saddened, that he switched from his usual self to ghosting you.

You sighed and blocked his number again. Yves is here, he probably wouldn't want him around anyways. You definitely wouldn't want Montgomery over either, the police are definitely going to get involved. Well at least if either of them get injured, they're already at a hospital.

After filtering out all the nosy acquaintances and your housemates, and Yves, you have... no friends again.

You groaned, rubbing your forehead. Well, you hope Yves isn't too busy. You're sick of looking at brainrottting content online, you want to chat with Yves again.

So you sent him a text, asking if he is free at the moment, taking note at the time. It's eight in the morning, your hospital wouldn't allow any visitors until 10am.

He answered almost immediately.

"Yes. Good morning, my beloved (name). I am now heading to the hospital. Is there anything I can do for you?"

You did some mental calculations, you estimated that he will be here by 9am, a whole hour before visitors are even allowed in. But he's Yves, he managed to convince the hospital to make him your nurse and doctor, you're sure they will allow him to enter earlier. You replied that you wanted to know how much longer you need to stay in the hospital.

"At least three more days. I will continue to monitor your status."

You asked him if you could leave earlier, you missed a lot of classes.

"You shouldn't have to worry about that for now, my dear. I have sent your lecturers and tutors letters detailing your current situation. They were understanding, providing the appropriate accommodations for you."

You asked him what he meant by "appropriate accommodations".

"They will send you emails to elaborate further. As of now, you must rest."

You let out a breath of relief, glad that you didn't have to deal with the awkwardness of requesting for an extension or your absence to be excused. Which made you wonder, how did he know who to send those memos to?

Before you could ask him that, Yves sent another message.

"Please. Remember their names this time. It would serve you well to know who will be guiding you through your courses."

He gave you a list of names and their respective roles. You thought back at the times where Yves asked you about your studies. Not a single one, you couldn't tell him the name of a single lecturer or tutor.

But it still didn't explain how he knew the names for this semester though, so you asked him about it.

"(Name), I enrolled you in your classes."

Oh. You forgot.

He has your login credentials for your student account too. And he works at the university, he could have just asked around.

And he is Yves, he could have easily deduced their names by searching them up online.

"Talk later. I will drive soon."

You turned your phone off after that, perhaps out of embarrassment.

__

You're pressed up against his chest as the fluids from the bag flows into your bloodstream, he absentmindedly runs his fingers through your hair while watching you for any signs of discomfort. The antibiotics tend to cause nausea in patients from his experience.

Yves smiled upon seeing that your eyes were closed and you were fully relaxing into him. This is wonderful, you're making much needed progress with him in a relatively short period. He can confirm that you're comfortable sharing a bed with him from now on.

Yves kissed you on the top of your head. "(Name)." He whispered.

You responded groggily, lifting up your head to face him. You only opened one eye, wanting to know what he required of you.

Yves pecked you on the forehead and chuckled. You're still waiting for his request, not even registering that he left a very visible lipstick print on you.

Good, good. You're completely settled in with his affection. Past the phase of extreme bashfulness and now into the realm of mundane comfort. This is what Yves wanted to see: you getting used to his affectionate touches.

Though... he knew he was going to miss those days where you couldn't look him in the eye without becoming a tomato. However, in the long run, it is required for you to be nonchalant about him to a certain degree. Or you might simply lose your mind.

"That will be all." He lovingly dismissed you with another kiss on the cheek.

You grunted and turned around, having your back pressed against his front. Once you're done, he rested an arm over your torso, becoming the big spoon.

Yves closed his eyes too and buried his face in your hair. But he isn't going to take a nap.

He is counting the number of breaths that you take and the depth of said inhales. His fingers pressing against your elbow to count your heartbeats without looking at the monitor. Yves is cocky enough to think he is better than a machine.

Lastly, he is counting the seconds elapsed. All of that while calculating your breathing and heart rate.

Eventually, you inhaled slower and the exhales became a bit more forceful. You're calm and unmoving save for the soft rising and falling of your ribcage.

You're asleep. Perfect.

Yves relished in your close presence for a few more minutes before tearing himself away from you.

He frowned at the coldness nipping at him as soon as he departed from your side. Yves fought the urge to cuddle with you again, being frustrated himself because it became exponentially harder to do so after coming back from his lonely trip.

Digging his fingers into his palm, he reluctantly stood up from the edge of the bed. Yves turned around and watched you with adoration-filled emerald eyes. He is so happy to be here.

Yves softly pulled your blanket over your shoulders and brushed your strands neatly over your pillow. This time, he kissed you on the arm before forcefully ripping himself away from your being. If he stayed longer, he would return under your sheets and hold you tight, not getting anything done.

He lets out a quiet sigh as he reaches for his bag. Yves pulled out a hairbrush and fixed his hair, using the reflection of his compact mirror to aid him.

Crossing his legs while sitting on the visitor's chair, he puts on his reading glasses and adjusts them properly. Yves tucked his locks behind his ear so he could read the files that he brought.

Light rustling of papers could be heard throughout the room, adding to its ambience along with the other machines.

His face was blank as he read through your case file. Yves will be a very busy man tomorrow as he has two court hearings to attend, as your attorney, your witness, his own representative and as a plaintiff to both. One to avenge you and enact his revenge, one to eradicate an annoying pest in your life.

He didn't pay much attention to the dossiers against Montgomery. Yves had his eyes focused on the case against Evangeline Jones.

He read through the details, his claims, the evidence; medical and on site and all other information available or supposedly unavailable to him for now.

A page with handwritten words was hidden at the end, where it contained data about the judge, including his address, his family, the all the briberies he took, his numbers, bank account details and many more that shouldn't be in Yves's hands. Evangeline's defence lawyer also wasn't safe from Yves's proficient sleuthing skills.

He scanned through the case. Searing each character, each photograph into his brain.

A stray tear rolled down to his chin, dripping onto the white paper, its wetness dying it grey and slightly smudging some ink. Then another. And another.

Until the sheet was littered with splotches of tears made up of his silent rage, remorse and regret.

Yet, he must read on. No matter how horrific it is.

Yves gracefully flipped the page as his face remained stoney.

But the tears kept falling.

[kaelio]

I’ve been loving your IWTV stuff but I haven’t watched the show or read the books. What is it about Anne Rice’s writing that makes it so insane?

Okay, I'm going to do a relatively long post probably.

First off, I want to make it clear that my love of her writing is completely unironic. I genuinely think that she is great. So I do want to lay that down because it's foundational to everything else I'll say.

Her writing is insane for a few reasons. The most basic of these reasons is that, I really think that she was intrinsically out of step with contemporary standards of mental wellness. On the other hand, I am not convinced she was as chemically or... neurologically?... insane as she's generally described. She had a lot of Experiences and those experiences fed into a perception of the world that is notable and characteristic, if borderline indecipherable, and it comes through in what she produced.

These books are steeped in very real trauma, and very real trauma that the world directly rewarded her for experiencing. I'm not sure if the rawness of that trauma was why she was so brazen about exposing it in IWTV, but whatever the reason, "story about how my child died and my marriage can't survive and I can't see any reason for living" made Anne Rice a bona fide recognizable author and commercial success. If "vampires are made from trauma", well consider that metaphor to have carried into the real world. Vampires did in fact give Anne Rice power and wealth (and furthermore, I'd argue, for her, they became essentially household gods).

There's that post that goes around about how Van Gogh made his best work (and really most of his work, period) when he was most stable. I'd posit that the world told Rice the opposite in explicitly material terms, and maybe there was a feedback loop there. Hard to say.

She did write shamelessly and almost aggressively. Her writing doesn't feel carefully tailored or polished for "an audience". It rejects many of the patterns you see in modern fiction (despite being wildly influential for several genres!). It highlights patterns you take for granted in other fiction because of how fundamentally it violates them. I'll splice together bits of a conversation I was having in another window:

me: And I do think that there's an interesting point to be made that the self-infatuation and the people-pleasing actually go hand-in-hand

Because there's a congratulatory aspect to having written something that you know will please other people

Like congratulating yourself ahead of time for the good person that other people are going to tell you that you are

3rd: and that also means you're afraid of writing anything that challenges or stretches the audience

which means you're writing pap

a friend and I were discussing R.F. Kuang whose book Babel was pitched as a 'response' to Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell and ... is not only not in the same league as that book but isn't even playing the same sport

This wasn't us discussing Anne Rice at all, she just feels relevant to it. We're getting increasingly streamlined stories which hit the "right" beats, but they're unsatisfying because they have no authentic skeleton. Why do people still respond to Toy Story but Inside Out is nearly forgotten? I despised Inside Out on its release because it perfunctorily landed all of its beats, but it's only pretending to have something to say. What it does pretend to say is... palatable. But it isn't interesting. It won't change you and it won't inspire a change in you, or give you the material to change yourself.

I go back to this comment over and over by @fofoqueirah because it's genuinely perfect. Peerless distillation:

But people often genuinely cannot write this way! It's overly revealing. We reflexively balk. How or why she didn't is hard to say, but it's gallingly, often horrifyingly, unapologetic. It's unapologetic for things it should probably be apologetic for.

Anyway, her writing is also maddeningly inconsistent, book-by-book, page-by-page, paragraph-by-paragraph, but it's thrilling in part due to its inconsistency. But when it's on, it's so fucking on. However, it's not didactic in any comprehensible way. There are quotes about how she trusted her meaning to come through in the end, which is hilarious because...?? I think you can derive more thematic meaning from a random pattern than you can from these books!! These books are less thematically straightforward than nonsense!

And she herself would regularly dump comments and lore and various things which made it all even weirder. God, I don't even feel like I'm scratching the surface here.

This woman had some kind of relationship with power, capitalism, BSDM, gender, family, religion, brain-eating, and dolls and God help us because she tried to tried to explain it to us and held back nothing and some times you're still. just. a wee babe in the woods.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi sex witch, i realise that this is not an actual sex ed related question and I hope this isn't overstepping any bounds.

I'm sort of in a weird spot right now a la my sexuality and am trying to figure out if I actually want a relationship and if what I feel is romantic attraction or Friendship levelled up. I've known for a long time that I'm Demisexual or Ace, and I thought I knew that I still felt romantic attraction but now I'm less sure.

How did you come to realise that you were aromantic? In that discovery did you ever wonder if it was a sort of 'mental block' or something similar that would be better off working through? (I ask because I'm sort of stuck in that state of mind right now, and I'm just curious to see if it's a common experience or not)

I realise that this is a fairly sensitive topic, and I really don't mean offense by asking.

I also realise that no two people's experiences will be the same but I was interested in hearing about it from another person's perspective.

I hope you have a great day whether or not you give this ask the time of day.

I've asked you other things in the past and it's always been brilliantly helpful. Thanks a lot for everything you do.

hi anon,

no worries about overstepping boundaries :) this is a pretty reasonable thing to ask of someone, and I'm happy to talk about it!

there's a funny story that I tell about the moment I probably should have known, but didn't yet have the language. in sixth grade my class had an assignment that involved making a collage timeline of the rest of our lives (a proto-vision board of sorts) and I think I was the only kid in the class who didn't put getting married on my timeline. everyone else did, as far as I can remember, and most of them also included having kids. being a pedantic little fuck I pointed out to several of my friends that it was really unreasonable to assume they would find someone they liked enough to marry who liked them back, to which everyone told me (paraphrasing) to shut the fuck up and stop being a little bastard.

but it still seemed very strange to me, because even when I was very young - back when I barely had the language to conceptualize being gay, let alone aromantic - I never imagined my life with a romantic partner. romantic pairings were interesting in stories, sure, I ate that shit up from a very young age! the star-crossed lovers shit going on in American Dragon: Jake Long did a number on my developing brain, and my Barbies and Littlest Pet Shops got up to INSANE relationship drama, but for myself it never really felt, like, relevant? not unpleasant, just uninteresting.

but I still had crushes on people as I grew up, and more importantly I had crushes on people of various genders, so during my teen years I was WAY more preoccupied with repressing my burgeoning bisexuality than drawing any conclusions about my romantic orientation

spoilers: the bisexuality won.

in college I had a friend who identified as asexual at the time, who spent maybe a year trying to convince me that I was aromantic. and I didn't want to hear it! I don't know why, honestly; maybe some part of me, despite loving the community I had found coming into my queerness, was still subconsciously afraid of being too different and grappling with the consequences.

so instead I did this uuuuh real dirtbag thing where instead of just acknowledging to myself that I was pretty fundamentally uninterested in romantic relationships and that that's fine, I spent the first half of college leaning hard on self-deprecation to explain my single status. oh, me? why aren't I dating? well, I'd probably be a really bad partner. yeah, I suck. I mean, I'm so busy all the time! and I'm weird.

(at the time I know I definitely had friends who assumed I was Like That because my parents were divorced, which is hilarious old-fashioned and also categorically untrue. I was Like This way before my parents got divorced!)

it actually took a relationship ending pretty badly to make peace with the idea that maybe I didn't want a relationship at all. I won't get into the details on that, because it involves another person and we were both very young and accidentally hurt each other a lot in ways we didn't mean and I don't think anyone was the villain, but I don't want it to come across like I had one bad breakup and then swore off romance, a thing I'd previously been interested in, forever. it was more like I found myself in a really heightened situation - they really desperately needed a good and attentive romantic partner after getting out of a bad relationship, I wanted our friendship to stay exactly the same but with a sexual component - that made very, very obvious what I was actually looking for in non-platonic relationships. which was, I guess, actually pretty platonic relationships, but with genitals involved.

haha just kidding, I actually didn't get that part through my skull until I spent an entire summer crying constantly, dissociating frequently, and spending way too much time on BAD dates having even worse sex that made me feel gross! but we got there eventually.

that part probably isn't super relatable to you if you're somewhere in the ace realm, sorry about that.

anyway, once the dust settled and I felt halfway human again I was feeling vulnerable and open to change - finally willing to see myself in a new way and reckon with parts of myself that I hadn't been before. I remembered what my buddy had always said about me seeming Really Aromantic, and I let it settle on me. how would I feel, if I actually was aromantic? how would it change my life, how I thought about myself?

and if I can use a cliche with you? it felt like a weight rolling off my shoulders. I suddenly had a whole sturdy base to build a better understanding of myself on, an easy way to justify the way I lived that didn't require throwing myself under a bus.

thinking of myself through the lens of aromanticism felt like a huge, HUGE relief, and frankly I think that, more than anything, is the best way for anyone to decide if they should be applying any identity label to themselves. which brings us back to you! I actually don't believe in the model of sexuality and gender that posits a secret innate Right Answer buried in each person that they'll discover if the just find the right terminology. all of the words we use are the result of our time and place, right? people like us existed all through history with different words for themselves, and they'll exist way after us calling themselves things we can't imagine.

so basically: I came to realize I was aromantic because calling myself aromantic felt like loving myself, and if that's the case for you than I strongly recommend you do it, too.

happy pride xoxo

[brailsthesmolgurl]

brails you better watch out cz I'm here to haunt you😈

OKAY JOKES ASIDE HOW ARE YOU??? I've noticed that you've been posting frequently and I wanna say that I hope you're doing amazing and that you're well and hydrated, JS to let U know that I'm always here to support you🫶

I'll be asking for another request, though I'm bad at explaining I'll JS try to word it out

I wanna see how y/n and mc coexist, like where theyre in the same universe. And that y/n had been dating him (the 3 boys, include sylus if you can) for a long time but then she notices their boyfriend's strange behaviour when he finally meets mc, like he's growing distanced and skipping their dates JS to spend time W the mc. Y/n complained about his behaviour and it ended up in a bit of a heated argument, which lead y/n to think that he doesn't love her anymore. A week after, y/n went to his house to apologise but that's when tragedy struck. seeing him with mc, all happy and brighter than he was with y/n. A day after that, Y/n met up with him face to face to talk it out. Telling him they should break up and that it's for the best, but then the talking turned into another argument. Y/n had enough but to leave him with force yet he doesn't want her to, the amount of begging and cries he had to convince her didn't work. After that, y/n decided to break off contacts with him, and also trying to distract herself by doing things that isn't like her (e.g, drinking)

For the endings, I want it to be separate. The first ending is that the 3 boys try to reconcile and they end up being together again (fluff), while the second ending is the same (he tries to reconcile) but is ENTIRELY angst, you can kill off y/n for this one if U want cz HEHEHEHEHEHE

I think I've outdone myself over this request, I wanted it to seem simple so that it'll be easy 4 u but😭 UGGGHHHH I JUST CAN'T GET THIS OUT KF MY HEAD, IGNORE THIS IF U WANT

That'll be it, stay safe brails🫶 (my vocab is suddenly limited I still want to compliment U)

Hi there girlie pop!

Yet again another request from you uwu! This is oddfully similar to the themes I had done before so I will put this into my thinking nook and write it sometime next month as I am currently working on a Zayne fic at the moment (wink wink)!

However, do forgive me as I will not be writing Sylus at this moment. This is because I do wish to write//portray a character that I do not have a grasp on but believe me when I say once the storyline is updated and when I get to meet the daddy himself, I WILL MOST DEFINITELY WRITE HIM. (rafayel really be trembling in his seat now)

And I shall only be deciding whether I want to write angst/fluff when the time comes so pls be patient for that my love <3!

Yet again, hope you are doing great now and thank you for requesting for this! <3333

[mongoose-bite]

This little smile means she's gonna move the planes to get your soulmate back, Barcus. A nice reminder that if you treat people well and do good, you can kindle the light and even someone who seems like an arsehole can be your friend. And some people refuse to improve regardless.

WTF is this??? this raises so many questions. There are blood banks? Asterion steals from them (I can't imagine he pays?) Does he just carry around jars of blood like Starbucks cups?

Speaking of drinking gross things, Faye brought Omeluum the mushrooms and sensing the illithid thought she didn't have the stomach for it, took the potion and managed to keep it down. To no great use, sadly. When it offered her the ring her first thought was 'but don't you need it to hide from elder brains?' but that wasn't a conversation option available to me. Stay safe, my squiddy friend. Even illithid can manage not to be arseholes when they try.

Goodbye Underdark, and goodbye act one.

I was feeling a bit bad about leaving Wyll stuck at camp all the time, but I have a problem with warlocks. Conceptually they're amazing: mechanically I don't know what they're for. I know there are broken hexblade multiclass builds out there, but as a whole the class confuses me. So thanks to his transformation, Wyll has now come under the effects of chaotic magic, and I gave him a couple sorcerer levels. I do think I'll give him at least one more in warlock for multiattack, but I'm hoping he'll be a bit more use now. I also gave him a handful of thieves' tools. I was considering a rogue multi, but his dex isn't that great.

Time to see if the gith can help us; Faye actually thinks they're probably her best shot cause they're a people with actual experience dealing with mindflayers, unlike most people we've talked to. She is absolutely not going to steal a child, (even if the person asking is a silver fox - player not character talking here.) But asking politely is something she's prepared to do, if it looks like it will save a life.

The look on her face. How the hell did a gith lay something this size?

What is this strange feeling; the entire party approving of my actions? All because I left a sour-faced spoilsport at camp. I expect there's probably some sad, spoilery reason why tumblr isn't flooded with art of Blurg and Omeluum raising a gith. Why can't a family be a hobgoblin dad, an illithid parent, and a gith baby? (Can you imagine presenting that to your DM as a character backstory? Although stranger things have happened; our OotA party permanently turned a beholder into a dwarf...long story.)

I had to burn all but one of my inspiration dice to get Laz'ael out of the machine, and Faye's actually pretty proud of her for sticking with them despite it all; gives her a bit of hope for Shadowheart, whom she hopes is paying close attention to this crisis of faith (she's probably busy learning the wrong lessons.)

So the creche overall was terrifying, and Faye is wondering just how many more impossibly powerful beings she's gonna piss off before this is over. She's still half-convinced the Samoan drow in the astral plane is an illithid trick, but that doesn't mean it's not telling the truth about the gith. She didn't deface the portrait in the creche, obviously, but oh boy Dyce has form should he ever come this way.

Faye doesn't follow any god. The hag tossed insults about her having one, but when she went toe to toe with the drow in the Underdark, she declared it her Oath against his god. To paraphrase Cromwell, it's not her faith in the gods that guides her, but her faith in herself. If Lethander turned out to be a liar, Faye's beliefs would not change.

Which means when you go back to camp after the second most terrifying and awful day of your life, there's no one to pray to to watch over and protect you. But you can pat your dog. My poor girl. She's not yet desperate enough to try Volo's needle, because she can't imagine it will work, but she's crossed an awful lot of other options off the list.

[ur-favorite-basil-enthusiast]

hi @fireplace-ashes ! i have a few gifts for you for the @drinkwithme-exchange :)

first: enjolras, courfeyrac, and combeferre start a punk/rock band !! this is an au ive been thinking about for a while so it's cool to be able to write for it

and second ! i've got super short gavroche and grantaire babysitting shenanigans. it takes place in the band au !! it's under the cut bc its a little too short to put on ao3

Grantaire isn't quite sure how he ends up babysitting Gavroche. Ep's bandmate, Enjolras (who Grantaire is slightly obsessed with, but like, in a healthy way) has a sister who's apparently "angelic," and Eponine somehow convinces Grantaire to babysit Gavroche while they go on a date. Azelma is at her friend's house, at least, so Grantaire only has to watch one kid.

Only, he realizes that he's underestimated Gavroche. The kid is like 20 hyper children who are also shockingly politically aware were stuffed into one small, blonde body. And the 20 children also want to dye their collective hair pink.

"But Eponine said I could!" Gavroche whines.

This is why Grantaire hates babysitting. He never knows what the guardian actually had allowed. And he thinks that Ep is probably fine with it—her hair is literally blue—but there's that little feeling of doubt that worms itself in and gets Grantaire to doubt himself. He supposes that he could call her—no, she's on a date. Fuck. "I mean…" Grantaire croaks out, heavily regretting the words on their way out of his mouth. "If you already have the dye? And it isn't like you need to bleach it or anything."

Seeing the huge smile that creeps its way onto Gavroche's face, Grantaire cringes internally at his decision.

"Yolo," He thinks bitterley.

-

He should stop saying yolo. It's fucking stupid. Also, he shouldn't let something like 'yolo' make him feel okay with bad decisions. Because this was a bad decision.

Grantaire hasn't dyed his hair in 13 years (he was 14 the first and only time he dyed  it—he never did it again because he decided that the bleach wasn't worth it) so he doesn't quite know what he's doing, and Gavroche is ten years old with not the best motor skills. So, it's very messy and very pink in the Thenardier bathroom.

While Gavroche sits on the toilet waiting for the dye to process, Grantaire tries to get dye out of the grout on the floor.

"Grantaire?" Gavroche says.

"Yes?"

"Are you in love with Eponine?"

"Not how you're probably thinking, no," Grantaire smiles fondly. "In our own strange way, I guess so. But I don't have a crush or something."

"I thought so." Gavroche hums. After a few seconds he says: "Are you in love with Enjolras?"

Grantaire sputters. "What—no! They hate me, and also why would I—"

Gavroche grins. "I think I've got my answer. Can I have my IPad?"

Grantaire, cheeks still pink, checks his phone to see that it's 8:30. "Does Ep usually let you have it after eight?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't she?" Gavroche shrugs. He sounds a little bit too innocent, especially with the way his voice curls up at the end of the sentence. It's suspicious.

"You stay here," Grantaire says, and points to the closed toilet where Gavroche had been sitting. Grantaire finds the IPad to see that (surprise, surprise) Eponine had put a post-it on the case that says, in scrawling letters, "No IPad after eight."

Wow, it feels great to get played my a ten year old.

"Gavroche," Grantaire says, with a played-up scolding tone. "Did you lie about the dye—"

There is hair dye all over the sink, and also all over Gavroche.

"Too. What the hell, Gav? I was gone for a minute—Ep is gonna kill me."

"Nah, she'll be thrilled," Gavroche grins.

Eponine is not thrilled. Grantaire and Gavroche are lectured, but the date must have gone well because it isn't too angry of a lecture. Eponine seems to be in good enough spirits that she can see that it's at least a little bit funny—and Grantaire apologizes profusely many more times than he needs to until he can admire Gavroche's trickery. The kid is smart, if not a bit infuriating. Grantaire wouldn't mind babysitting again—although, with the state of the bathroom, he thinks that Eponine wouldn't be very quick to let him do it again.

[platypusplayhere]

Thank you @dangerliesbeforeyou for tagging me, im mentioning all kinds of media bc I love to rant, I have a lot of love in my heart and I have trouble choosing just 8: (im making this on mobile hope it's readable).

Howl's moving castle (2004)

My first experience of gender envy, gender fascination, gender emulation for Howl, at a time I didn't even know that gender was a thing because I was like idek 7 years old.

Kiss of the rabbit god (2019)

A short movie, stumbled onto it bc of Tumblr. You honour, I simply love it.

Shrek (2001)

I'm not being ironic I'm very serious about this one. My mom used to braid my hair weekly when I was little and I constantly played this one, I know it by heart and I'm not joking. I freaking love this movie. Same goes for Mulan, Beauty and the beast, Charlie and the chocolate factory, and the whole Shrek franchise up to the 3rd one. (Gotta watch Puss in boots 1 and 2 tho.)

V for vendetta (2005)

This is a shout-out to 14 years old me who might have at some point based their personality around this movie or maybe they didn't, who's to say. I'm not sorry. Kinda still like it tho.

Corpse bride (2005)

There is an independent cinema in my hometown and they did run it often over the years. Bestie I don't know how many times I went to see this movie with my mother as a child. Recently learned about the Jewish origins of this myth and im a lil upset about the stolen storyline without the context. But some will say it's a Burton movie and they're right.

Valentine's day (2011)

First movie I went to see alone with my friends, I was like 12yo. Rewatched it again like 2 years ago, yeah it ain't that great but it's the memories right.

Father and soldiers (2022)

The last movie that made me cry. I hate war movies but my friends convinced me to go because it was less than 2 hours and I've been mad at movies being more than two and a half hours lately (looking at u House of Gucci, Doctor Strange 2) yeah, I cried my eyes out. It's not a perfect movie but the message is great and very moving. I don't like the English title because the original/French title directly refers the name of a group of African soldier recruited by France in its colonies during WWI -> "Les Tirailleurs" (if I remember well, the soldiers were recruited in every colonies but they left Africa from the Senegal and so all these soldiers are referred as Senegalese regardless of their actual origins). The English title is more fitting thematically wise I'll give you that.

Fulmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (2009)

Knew about it, was recommended by a dear mutual of mine on this very hellsite and yeah, ppl keep saying it's good because it just is.

I told sunset about you/ I promised you the moon (2020-2021)

If you read my tags u know how I rant about this show often. Watched it 2 years ago thanks to someone i follow on Tumblr (but im not really sure who it was anyway if you're a mutual thank you sm). My first foray into BL (back when I didn't even know what it was) and I couldn't be happier that I started with this. I don't have enough words to praise it. (currently writing a post about it tho, stay tuned for whenever I get around to finish it (tell me if u wanna know when it's up), big up to Bad Buddy and To My Star too)

Honoured mentions bc I started making a list and had more than 8 and couldn't not mention them:

Other movies: O'brother, Love and Leashes, God's own country, Jackie Brown, The big lebowsky (idek if I like this movie but I needed something to base my personality around when I was 15yo)

The book The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo, I'm gonna keep my rant about how the English title is a misunderstanding of the book locked and not even start it.

Alice isn't dead and The Magnus archives (although they're podcasts and I haven't quite finished them, the first seasons are exquisite)

Welcome to Night Vale, I have a lot of episodes to catch up on (currently working on that) started listening like in 2016 then stopped around idek 2 years ago. Some of these episodes are masterpieces ( some I know by heart: Guidelines for disposal, Love is a shambling thing, What happened at the Smithwick House, If he had lived, and The Pilot ofc)

the ballet Swan Lake (1995, 2012) by Matthew Bourne. I don't have enough words. I'll just say it's on youtube.

.....and many more im not think abt rn

*acts surprised* this became a real long post, real quick

(That's why I take a lot of time to answer those lmao, shout out and thank you to the ppl who tag me in these and then I take a lot of time to answer)

Tagging these people and anyone who wants to do it can mention me: @sherlockig @dontbesoevil @lordmeowdemort @namelessbeing @hairbackc0llarup @comrademichael @johnlockdynamic @lovelywickedsoul @frenchsiren

[triviareads]

ARC Review of Tastes Like Shakkar by Nisha Sharma

Summary:

Wedding planner Bobbi Kaur is determined to make sure her friends Kareena and Prem's wedding goes off without a hitch, even if it means working with popular chef Benjamin 'Bunty' Padda. Bobbi and Benjamin may not have gotten off to a great start, but doesn't stop their mutual attraction. As they try to solve the mystery of who's sabotaging the wedding, they quickly fall into a relationship even as they know there's a deadline approaching...

My review:

I enjoyed this book a lot more than I was expecting based on some of Nisha Sharma's earlier books that I've read including Dating Dr. Dil, the book prior to Tastes Like Shakkar. I thought Benjamin and Bobbi were solid characters individually, I bought their chemistry, and I really liked the background cast of their friends and The Aunties.

I'm not going to lie, I initially thought a "shaadi saboteur" would make for a really hokey plot, but I was invested because I was firmly on Bobbi and Benjamin's side and rooting for their success. I think that conflict's resolution might have been a bit rushed and contrived, but until then, it worked. Also, Nisha mentioned in her acknowledgements that she wanted to explore the concept of "family managers" in Indian culture namely, when children feel like their value to the family is conflated with the help the provide which is... so so accurate. The shaadi saboteur plot really pushed that idea to the forefront of my mind while I was reading, because Bobbi was determined to prove to her value to her family and her friend whose wedding she's planning to the extent where she thinks that's all she's worth. Benjamin had a similar conflict with his own dad who, get this, runs a frozen naan empire.

Regarding Bobbi and Benjamin's relationship, the blurb pushes the "enemies" aspect of their relationship but in actuality, they know pretty early on that they have sexual chemistry, and after the first time they have sex, they're basically in a relationship. It's fairly early on in the story, but I actually liked that. The plot took the time to explore their growing relationship and you could understand what drew them to each other, and perhaps more importantly what kept them together which, in my opinion, might have been how they handled the long-distance aspect of their relationship.

I love how Nisha wrote the long-distance relationship in an epistolary format, like, that's what convinced me they should stay together. There were texts, cute little notes, checking in on each other, Benjamin ordered Bobbi food when he knew she'd forget, and of course, there had to be phone sex. Which I thought was pretty solid all things considered. Speaking of sex—

The sex:

Here's my thing: Authors can sometimes get weird about people of color and sex, and even moreso about people of color and kink. I think it's this paranoia about how they're depicting the characters' sexuality, their bodies, and how "correct" they're being about the sex (oh and some strange detours into multilingual dirty talk in a way that fetishizes the language) that gets in the way of writing sex scenes that are actually... sexy. But I thought Nisha handled this potential pitfall really well here. The fact that Bobbi isn't conventionally skinny? It's touched upon just the right amount and her body is described during sex, but Nisha never harps on it. The fact that Benjamin enjoys bondage during sex? He explained it to Bobbi frankly, checked in with her, but otherwise it was no big deal. Their desire for one another was frank and explicit. There was no place for coyness here. I only wished some the scenes themselves could be a little longer.

Stand-out moments include:

a) First sex scene was at the 44% mark and that made me happy. It was a storage room oral moment on those decorative throne things they make South Asian brides and grooms sit on during their wedding reception which I thought was hilarious

b) A blowjob scene that surprised me because she was laying down and he like, actually straddled her chest and went for it, which I don't see in a lot of contemporary romances.

c) At one point during sex they were looking at themselves in a mirror and Bobbi likened herself to those women in old Indian paintings with their hips and stomachs out and I just thought that was really beautiful and body-affirming.

Overall:

This might be one of the best rom-coms I've read in a long time. It accomplished exactly what it set out to do: You got that desi rep (specifically that Jersey desi rep— iykyk) with a solid cast of Indian characters, a great romance that's probably as hot as any rom-com will ever get, and plot that was funny and sweet in equal measure. I would absolutely recommend it to anyone who's remotely interested in this genre.

Thank you to Avon and Harper Voyager and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for my review.

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 071 - Trip's Grief

Star Trek: Enterprise - Season 3 Episode 20 - The Forgotten

As we open into this episode, Enterprise has mostly recovered from it's heavy damage. We finally have a number of casualties from the battle. Some work is still a lot of work to be done, but the ship is in functioning order.

I love that uniforms in this one are not in pristine order, their grimy, covered in soot and charring, and just I love that look. It's a quick and effective way of communicating that they haven't had time to rest yet. Trip hasn't even had time to shave, he's growing some stubble (and it suits him). I've been loving that such a heavy attack has had lasting damage on the ship

T'Pol has been finding her emotions harder to suppress, but is getting off the Trellium D well enough.

The main plot of the episode quickly takes hold, Archer boards Degra's ship to make discussions with the Xindi council, and decides that they have to prove what he has to say about the Reptilians. Unfortunetly the Council's representative is not convinced by all the evidence, but Degra is being pulled closer towards Enterprise's viewpoint.

Trip's arc throughout this episode was absolutely great. I'm a sucker for characters who overwork themselves beyond any and all reason. Between repairs after the battle and what happened to his sister, the poor dude refuses to give himself the nap he deserves. His dream conversation with Crewman Taylor, the deceased member of the crew Archer asked him to write a letter to the family of was beautiful. His guilt over not being able to write the letter during that scene and his grief over both Crewman Taylor and his Sister was heart-breaking. This breakdown has been coming since the start of the season, and I loved seeing him finally let it out.

The main plot of this one was weak, but that's been par for the course for this arc, however I really loved the character interactions here. Especially Trip, who was absolutely the highlight for me. His final letter to Crewman Taylor's family was beautiful.

Comparing my Enjoyment of this Episode with a Doctor Who Universe Story of the Same Title

Doctor Who - The Forgotten

It's been while since I've got to do one of these! The Forgotten was 6 issue comic run by IDW in 2009. I haven't really got to touch on Comic-Who yet on this blog. Speaking truthfully, most of Doctor Who comic love is directed towards DWM comics and Titan Comic's lines. IDW's run at Doctor Who comics as whole isn't spectacular to say the least, especially their 10th Doctor run.

The Forgotten Specifically, involves The Tenth Doctor and Martha Jones waking up in a strange museum dedicated to his life, where he's set to become the next exhibit. A good premise, and one Doctor Who has done both before and since. Trouble is, he also can't remember before his current regeneration. The majority of the comic is dedicated to the Doctor going through the museum and regaining his memories from his previous incarnations, and we are treated to a few flashback stories with the first nine Doctors. I won't focus on those, but one small detail I liked is that the first and second Doctor flashbacks are in Black and White.

Throughout the main story, the comic keeps baiting you into thinking The Master is behind all of this, but actually it's "Ten-two" from Stolen Earth/Journey's end, and it's not even actually really Ten-Two because It's actually all just a dream caused by an Alien parasite that latched onto the Doctor, who's actually dying on the TARDIS floor.

The Forgotten is kinda the Epitome of everything I don't like about IDW's run of Doctor Who comics. It tries to throw the entire breadth of Doctor Who canon at you, but with very little of the Depth to it. This comic brings in Autons, the Kaldor Robots, the SS Marie Antoinette Clockwork Robots, but none of them stick around for more than a few pages, and it doesn't do any of the work into even differentiating them beyond their designs. They're just all robots that shoot in this comic. There's nothing about what made these individual villains unique or scary here. The Fake Ten-Two says one line about speculating to be The Valeyard, but nothing is done with that because two panels later he fully admits to being an image created by cranial parasite. It's just a random Valeyard name drop, and it feels really out of place.

I know IDW also had the Star Trek licences at one point, so I am kinda curious if they had similar issues with that. In terms of this episode vs this comic though, this one definitely has to go to enterprise. While I'm not particularly invested in the whole Xindi plotline, the character writing on this episode was enough to keep me engaged for Enterprise's "The Forgotten". Sadly, another instance of "I swear I actually like Doctor Who, Star Trek is just sharing titles with the bad stories"

[liliallowed]

Fuck it call me the voice of the smitten because true love, friendship and NOT MURDERING PEOPLE is totally going to fix this situation! We'll find a way to save ourselves from the demon and help sans, 100%!!! We just gotta stay determined!

[ Even if you don't admit it, the weight of the Demons words still hangs in the air and festers in your mind no matter how hard you try to convince yourself. You still try and stay determined. ]

[ SAVE? ]

ah power of friendshiping this are we? let's see where it goes~

[continuation of prev ask]

you make your way towards where you think sans was at first...

you're panicked you're confused. are you really trapped in a loop? that demon did this they KNEW...

screw them. you'd tell sans and hopefully sort things out.

you face the skeleton explaining everything with a panicked face.

he nodds sympathetically.

but he asks you the same question as before.

"how many times have we had this conversation?"

his tone is the same. there's little indication of him wishing to hurt you yet you can't help but feel a chill on your spine. as if your instincts are telling you to THINK before you lie or tell him the truth.

"second." you had no reason to lie.

his grin sharpens only for a moment. only for a SECOND you saw something in his eye that... made you shudder.

"hm. you're so cooperative. you didn't lie. but it's so strange how I don't recall your resets. could you REALLY be telling the truth?" his grin is now colder. his eyes are sharper on you.

"I can make this right! how do I give this thing to you? I'm not lying! I just want to get out. I don't want to relive this day... I want to help you! and ... to ask for your help. can't we work together?" you take a small step back subconsciously.

something isn't right. something FEELS wrong.

his smile feels so fake. it feels like he's barely even putting effort into it.

was he actually going to kill you?

"I know. I know you had nothing to do with this. I know you're scared. it's alright. it's only your second time. I get it. where is the brat?" he puts his hand on your shoulder slowly comforting you.

something about his compassionate words felt... sweet and warm. TOO warm. it felt... a bit off but that was probably due to the brainwashing of the demon. he hadn't hurt you yet. why would he this time?

you tell him everything you know about the demon. he smiles as you offer the red soul, this time more easily.

they didn't even struggle this time.

everything was going great! now you just needed to get rid of the reset...

"to think they'd give something so precious to YOU." he chuckled.

"while I had to suffer through hell to take it by force. heh... funny. you seem to just... jave everything go wrong and someone else gets rewarded." he broke the soul to shards, destroying the demons life force.

you want to comfort him. let him know you'll do whatever it takes. you want to make it right.

he glances at your soul... then you. "you said this is the second time this happened right?"

you nod.

he frowns.

"well... I know a solution. but you have plenty of time before you die. I'll use it as a last resort. after all. if it fails... heh. nevermind. as long as you don't die it'll be fine." he mutters to himself.

"what... is your method?"

"you don't need to worry about it. not for now at least." he grinns.

you agreed to let the skeleton take charge to keep you safe to prevent the reset. you agreed to stay where he told you and did anything he said.

you didn't want to make an enemy of him. and he genuinely seemed to like you!

days turned into weeks... until you found the two of you growing closer.

you would occasionally notice a faint dark bluish purple blush on his face whenever you hugged him or... whenever he would lay his head against yours.

friendship slowly turning into love. you confessed and he accepted.

you felt safe you felt happy... at home.

the demon was wrong. you made it. you turned things around! he wasn't the monster they thought he was. you had changed him.

they were only lying to you because they wanted you to fight him.

the small embarrassed faces he'd make whenever you flirted. the small sweet gestures of just being... vulnerable next to you. relying on you relaxing next to you....

it was almost too good to be true...

....

...

..

.

🩶

"what are you... why are you doing this?"

you look at him with tears in your eyes. you felt so betrayed by the pain in your chest... your soul cracking under the pressure of his magic.

"it's nothing personal. I do like you. it was fun to be toghter. I wanted to give you a good life before resorting to this. that soul of yours. it needs to die. not just physically. I have to break your will. you're determination is what's keeping it bound to you." he gives you a bitter smile. there's a faint sadness in his eyes but... also something... dark... bloodlust... sorrow shame guilt... anger.

"was all of those things you said to me a lie?"

"no. I meant it. you're a nice human. an unfortunate one. it's a matter of circumstances. I don't hate you. but... let's just say I can easily detach myself from personal feelings. been doing it for a while and you're not the first. it's alright if you hate me after this. I deserve it anyway so you'd be doing both of us a favor" he shrugged.

"least I could do was give you a happy experience before sending you off. I'm sorry. you understand right? you've been so nice to me. you'd understand why I have to do this. don't make this harder than it needs to be. you'll just... just be sleeping. yeah." he chuckled to himself.

he was NOT doing okay... you couldn't see any clarity on those eyes. only an increasing sense of danger and bloodlust.

he was actually going to kill you... no. not kill. TORTURE you till you were out of a will to live...

was this MERCY? you don't understand. you did everything by the book... why did he do this? was this really the only way? you DIDN'T WANT TO DIE!

"it's okay. I'll make it as painless as I can... it's okay to hate me too. I know it hurts. just... give up. it'll be fine. you'll be okay." he tried to comfort you as he held a small serum in his hand.

"you know I love you right?..." he looked at you in the eyes.

"so please just let go. don't make me hurt you more than I have to."

"you don't have to do THIS! we can find another way-" you saw his eyes flared up red... as if you had said something that triggered him.

"and look where HE ended up by saying those exact words hehehehehe." he began to break down... slowly losing himself. you had seen him talk to himself from time to time but THIS felt different. it felt unstable. you felt unsafe... this wasn't good.

"no. of course you're not above them. no... no. you'll join them. it's okay. I wouldn't do that pap. I know. no ... I'm not giving up. I know... "

he muttered as he clung onto the side of his hood.

ah. so this was the side he wanted to hide from you...

and you thought the demon was crazy... he clearly needed actual psychological professional help...

in hindsight all the red flags you were ignoring during your relationship with him were starting to make a lot more sense now...

but you just assumed it was because the DEMON warned you...

they never lied... you felt so sad. you KNEW he didn't want to do this. you knew this was supposedly the only way...

but you couldn't give up.

bones... needles saws... weapons that only gave you a promise of pain and suffering... all were closing in on you... was he going to cut you open? how much pain did you have to go through?

your body was paralysed by fear... you couldn't move... only cry in silence as you felt the tip of the blade slowly scratch your skin-

*you don't want to die.

*you called for help...

*they hear your call.

\that's the spirit\

*you're filled with determination.

a flash of red light enveloped your body as it whipped the weapons away.

"it's been a while goody two shoes. told ya you'd need me back"

you stared at the hooded demon standing in between you and the skeleton.

oh... no...

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

What's the Deal With Celtic Guardian Anyways?

If you're at all plugged into the mad visions of the Yugitubing sphere, you've probably heard a little bit about something called Celtic Guardian format. You might have even noticed, if you were curious, that the current price of Celtic Guard of Noble Arms on TCG player is currently about $0.25. A playset of them will get you about roughly 5% of a Big Mac in the pre-fascist plutocratic government that is today's America.

But what is, Celtic Guardian format? Well friends, I have been illuminated as to the inner works by strange fish which live in the local river, and I have a new, fun, exciting format for you to play with your friends.

For the unenlightened, this might just look like a pile of bulk Commons you'd fish out of the bin along with test sheets of future Magic the Gathering product. But that's because Celtic Guardian format works under mysterious, arcane rules. Let's go over some of the differences between Celtic Guardian format and normal, run of the mill Yugioh.

In Celtic Guardian format, both players share the same deck of 60 cards, and the same Graveyard. It would be 80 but I can't get YGOPRO to fit 80 cards into the Main Deck.

Cards on the field that are being activated can be removed from the field and will resolve without effect if they leave the field.

All Normal spells are considered Quick-Play spells and can be activated from the hand during either player's turn.

There are three ways to win a game of Celtic Guardian: reducing your opponent's LP to zero, milling the deck out, and a secret win condition.

With all that out of the way, let's discuss the central monster of the deck: Celtic Guardian.

Listen even by the standards of the set it came out in, Celtic Guardian was not taking any names. Imagine printing a card at Super Rare and it immediately getting outclassed by Skull Red Bird and Uraby. Uraby! A Dinosaur! But Celtic Guardian forms the backbone of this deck by being a Warrior monster with fairly decent stats. It only needs to get in six attacks in order to finish your opponent off, giving you plenty of time to eek out a win. But this isn't the only Celtic Guardian available.

Okay, okay, Listen, I promise you this is a Celtic Guardian monster. It's just a TCG translation issue. You know those early TCG translations and their Fusioh Richie. Anyways, this card might seem largely useless in the format, since everything has 1400 ATK. But rest assured this card's inclusion is vital and strategic.

This is the powerhouse around which Celtic Guardian format centers. He provides field presence and card draw all in one package, but most importantly, he's also stonewalled by Obnoxious Celtic Guardian. This makes preserving your Obnoxious Celtic Guardians important to prevent your opponent from drawing cards, protecting them from the scourge of other copies of Celtic Guardian.

But you're a smart cookie, and you've probably also spotted a fourth monster sitting in the list.

The snake. The Great Deceiver. The One Who Will Bring About the End. The mystical fish in the local river that I drank from that is definitely not downstream from waste runoffs from paper mills had no kind words to say about this creature.

In a game of Celtic Guardian, the ultimate goal is to never be caught with this card in your hand or on your field. If its in the Deck or in the Graveyard, nothing happens. It dark powers slumber. But this is why Mind Crush is in the deck.

The third wincon of Celtic Guardian format is revealing that your opponent has a copy of Feral Imp in their hand using Mind Crush, or by attacking into a face-down copy with your Celtic Guardian. It is at this point that the truth of the format reveals itself.

Celtic Guardian is a multi-player format.

The player who is revealed to be courting with the Imp will have to explain its inclusion in the deck to a group of friends to which it will be put to a vote. If the argument made is convincing, or really funny enough, the player will be allowed to continue playing. But if not, that player will automatically lose the game.

The wrinkle in this is that if you are revealed to be courting the Imp again, you will have to make a different argument for its inclusion. No argument can be made more than once, even if your opponent was the one to originally argue it. Finally, if you are revealed to have the Imp three distinct times, you lose the game.

Spells (This Post is long enough with just the images above Jesus Christ I'm so sorry)

While most of the cards here look fairly normal, or perhaps just weird, because they can all be played like Quick-Plays, there are some interesting and powerful interactions on display. You can use Peeking Goblin to set up two powerful cards for yourself, and then use Ledger of Ledgedemain to banish the cards for later. Back to Square One with any of the draw cards in the deck can basically function as a theft effect for any of your opponent's monsters. Goblin Circus can be used to force your opponent to take bad cards, or perhaps even more terrifyingly, to force your opponent to court the Imp. Warrior Elimination is a powerful Instant speed sweeper.

Traps

Most of the cards here are draw options, filtering, and mill. While the mill might look out of place, since there is a number of ways of manipulate the top deck, you can use a card such as Simultaneous Loss in order to prevent your opponent from accessing a card they wish to draw.

But perhaps the most powerful card in the trap line up is Phoenix Wing Wind Blast, which functions as the only card negation in the deck. Since cards have to remain on the field to resolve, if your opponent tries to Ledger of Ledgermain during your End Phase, you can use PWWB in order to put it back on the top of the deck, draw it, and then use it to take the three cards your opponent was going to take. This makes PWWB an incredibly powerful card to use, able to control the top of the deck and interacts well with the wide variety of draw power in the deck.

Conclusion:

April Fools!

So the idea for this format in its specific incarnation comes from an incredibly bizarre fan-made Magic format called Forgetful Fish, which I genuinely thought was an April's Fool joke until I saw the publication date. It centers around the similarly incredibly mediocre Dandan, a shared library and graveyard, and a strong focus on control and draw power that I tried to replicate here.

Unfortunately Yugioh sucks and doesn't have cards like Brainstorm or Memory Lapse. It should. Fight me.

This format is also based on a silly meme tweet from an MBT thread. You can watch the video here! This is why there's also a Feral Imp focus.

Honestly though I kind of coped myself into this format brewing it up and you can probably find 20 more interesting cards to play to add to the list. The sky is the limit in this format! But if I was getting together with friends I'd honestly probably jam this for a fun time.

Happy joking, and remember, never court the Imp.

[old-antecedent]

Akaviri Days & Yokudan Nights

I have received many complaints recently, which is not in itself such a strange occurrence. What's truly odd about it is that many of the recent complaints have been about a so-called "lack of veracity" in the information I share. Well, Marcus Antonius Purelian of Skingrad, I had not realized you were the owner of the most accurate information about how the flow of time works in Atmora. I will be sending a seeker to drain the knowledge from your skull. Allow me to elaborate on the real issue here: none of you know how reality works. I've stated before that truth is malleable by strong will, and that much is true. However, I fear that has inaccurately conveyed the meaning of truth. It is a mechanic of consensus, not a set of facts that can only be pushed around by large actors. Convincing ideas become true. Metaphor, allegory, synechdoche, any literary device you can imagine will alter the truth of the world as it spreads. Take Atmora, no, take all of the Mundus beyond Tamriel as an example. Atmora is the ancestral homeland of non-Yokudan men. Throughout the Merethic, men came from Atmora to Tamriel. The final exodus came under the great Ysgramor, and was mostly a result of his homeland's mythologization. As men began, more and more, to speak of Atmora in the specifics of how it was as their ancestors left it, the land became unmoored from time's flow in a particular way. It froze. Gradually the Frost-Fall — a literal and metaphorical freezing of the place in time — claimed the whole place, keeping it exactly as the stories told on Tamriel portrayed it. Cold and unchanging. The Five-Hundred Companions were the last to leave the land and still live as you call it. All that remained was a collection of frozen bearded kings. Old Ehlnofey (a.k.a. [Old, Lost, The Isle of, etc.] Aldmeris) is the ancestral homeland of mer. If you know the history of mer, this makes little sense in literal terms. Are all mer not descendants of the Ehlnofey, those anonymous et'Ada who did not abandon the Mundus? Plainly, this "Old Ehlnofey" is myth. However, a pervasive myth has a persuasive effect on godhead. Old Ehlnofey exists only in the loosest sense of the term, outside of time and space in all regards. It is unconstrained by either because it is a representation of the pure form of anonymous et'Ata: timeless, nameless, formless, blissful. Yokuda is the ancestral home of the Redguards. It is consistently known as a land of "was" in all records. "We were there, now we are here." "We once spoke a native language, but now we speak yours." Yokuda was destroyed, it was sunk into the sea by some kind of tampering. Redguards honor their Yokudan forefathers in a way that the Atmoran men do not (Who knows the name of any Atmoran who lived before Ysgramor?). Was, was, was, was, was. No attention is ever payed to what Yokuda is, and so it isn't. It was. Akavir is no ancestral homeland to any person of Tamriel. This does not mean it is not seen in a metaphorical light. Consider its location, to the east. All tribes of mer who became different from their earthbone ancestors traveled east to find new homes and new forms. The Nerevarine fled east into Akavir. Magnus rises — in the east — over the Black Marsh while it is still night in the Valenwood. All this to say, Akavir is the east and the east is the future. There are, of course, many contradictions to this. Those tend to accumulate when your reality is consensus. If Yokuda is both sunken and in the past, how was Anvil trading with them in the Third Era? How could Uriel V have invaded a land that resides in the future? Then again, how else could those early Blades know what to carve on Alduin's Wall?