#I need.......... to get better at art........... I can't stand my current style...........

[taniushka12]

Looked at some cool artstyle incident a million injured and agonizing

[daughterofheartshaven]

A Virgin New Adventures reading guide

I told @gotyouanyway that I'd give them my reading guide for the Virgin New adventures that I made for a friend a while back and posting it publicly was easy and also means other people can use this too. I wrote this back in 2021, but stand by it from what I remember. It has been like 5-6 years since I read some of these books, so if I rated your favorite too low lemme know and I'll give it a re-read.

This might not be that helpful if you want to pick just a few books - I designed it more to streamline VNA experiance

The key:

1 - I'd recommend skipping

2 - Eh. You can skip, but there is at least something to be gained by reading it

3 - I would recommend reading this. It's not plot-critical, but it is a good read or useful setup

4 - Read this for sure. It's either plot-relevant, or just that damn good (or both).

Timewyrm: Genesys - 4 (introduces the timewyrm and the series; unfortunately it's also not great.)

Timewyrm: Exodus - 3 (continues the timewyrm story, and is a fairly straightforward but interesting story)

Timewyrm: Apocalypse - 2 (eh. Not much for or against it either way)

Timewyrm: Revelation - 4 (concludes the timewyrm arc with style)

Cat's Cradle: Time's Crucible - 3 (Good if you can wrap you head around it)

Cat's Cradle: Warhead - 2 (depressing as all get out, but very well written)

Cat's Cradle: Witch Mark - 3 (just plain weird. Does finish the current arc and sets up Return of the Living Dad)

Nightshade - 2 (kinda weird. Notable as the first Mark Gatiss story)

Love and War - 4 (plot-relevant. Also awesome)

Transit -4 (Introduces important recurring character. Hard to follow but really good even if you can't follow it)

The Highest Science - 3 (good story, but ultimately not amazingly important)

The Pit - 1 (I did not enjoy)

Deceit - 4 (Not a great read, but important to the plot)

Lucifer Rising - 4 (Amazing, with important character development for our protagonists)

White Darkness - 2 (first David A. McIntee novel, but not especially gripping)

Shadowmind - 3 (good demonstration of where Ace and Benny are as characters, vaguely interesting plot)

Birthright - 3 (good character piece for Ace and Benny, shows a darker side to the Doctor without being dumb about it)

Iceberg - 2 (plot is messy and weird. Only read if you need the Doctor's half of the story from Birthright)

Blood Heat - 4 (starts alternate universe arc, important developments for the Tardis)

The Dimension Riders - 2 (gonna be honest here - I don't remember a thing about this one either way)

The Left-Handed Hummingbird - 3 (first Kate Orman novel. Pretty good, although a little weird and hard to follow)

Conundrum - 3 (Be prepared for weirdness. And superheroes. Helps setup for No Future and Head Games)

No Future - 4 (concludes the alternate universe arc with style, establishes Ace from here on out)

Tragedy Day - 3 (dark, but good. Worth a read)

Legacy - 3 (Kinda dark, but it works. Be prepared for over-continuity)

Theatre of War - 4 (Pulls off one of the best plot twists I've seen anywhere, and introduces Braxieatel to the Whoniverse)

All-Consuming Fire - 4 (Not plot-relevent at all, but is very good, especially if you are a Sherlock Holmes fan)

Blood Harvest - 4 (Major plot point in the Whoniverse)

Strange England - 2 (takes strangeness to an art form. Can be freely skipped)

First Frontier - 4 (plot relevant for spoiler-y reasons)

St Anthony's Fire - 2 (dark and weird, but well written)

Falls the Shadow - 1 (Just... no)

Parasite - 1 (Written by Jim Mortimore, therefore depressing as all get out)

Warlock - 2 (I did not read. Sequel to Warhead, so only read if you liked it)

Set Piece - 4 (major plot developments for multiple characters)

Infinite Requiem - 2 (like The Dimension Riders, I remember nothing)

Sanctuary - 3 (a pure historical. Not really great on its own, but helps set up Human Nature)

Human Nature - 4 (The story that was adapted to TV. One of the best New Adventures by itself, becomes even better by having fun comparing it to the TV version)

Original Sin - 4 (plot-relevant)

Sky Pirates! - 2 (Only if you like Douglas-Adams-esque dark humor)

Zamper - 3 (Somewhat interesting follow-up to The Highest Science)

Toy Soldiers - 2 (Adds pretty much nothing, but not painfully bad) 

Head Games - 4 (a worthwhile look at where the Doctor has been going and who he is)

The Also People - 4 (probably my favorite New Adventure, although Theatre of War and Human Nature are also up there. Also resolves a recurring character's arc)

Shakedown - 3 (Fun, but ultimately fluff)

Just War - 2 (Weird and ultimately unimportant)

Warchild - 2 (Same situation as Warlock. Starts Psi arc, but can be skipped)

SLEEPY - 4 (Generally good story, sets up Psi arc if you skipped Warchild)

Death and Diplomacy - 3 (only worthwhile as setup for Happy Endings)

Happy Endings - 4 (Plot relevant. Ultimately fluff, but plot-relevant)

GodEngine - 4 (not plot-relevant, but an excellent story)

Christmas on a Rational Planet - 2 (part of Psi arc, and lays groundwork for Faction Paradox stuff, but I couldn't really follow it)

Return of the Living Dad - 4 (cleans up old plot threads, and is a great story in its own right)

Cold Fusion - 4 (Not plot relevant, but an excellent, gripping story)

The Death of Art - 2 (part of Psi arc, but not great)

Damaged Goods - 2 (Russel T. Davis's first Who work, but very dark and nasty)

So Vile a Sin - 4 (finishes Psi arc and has other plot relevance)

Bad Therapy - 2 (deals mostly with repercussions of previous story, but not great in and of itself)

Eternity Weeps - 1 (Jim Mortimore's writing is too depressing for me. Technically plot relevant in that Benny and Jason get divorced but not worth it)

The Room With No Doors - 4 (setup for Lungbarrow, good story in its own right)

Lungbarrow - 4 (concludes the new adventures of the seventh doctor in a surprisingly meaningful way)

The Dying Days - 4 (a nice little coda to the series that sets up Benny's adventures as well)

[marta-bee]

News of the Day 5/11/25: Ukraine and The Art of the Deal

Paywall-free.

This is the problem with running a country like a business. (One of, at least, but to my mind one of the biggest.) Businesses run on finding opportunities where they can produce a good or service worth buying for less than what the market will pay for it. The bigger the gap, the better the opportunities. So UPS might only deliver in certain high-population areas (meaning lower costs) and decide it doesn't make sense to deliver to people in the boonies. The post office doesn't get that option.

Here, Trump said he could make peace between Ukraine and Russia "on day one." Predictably, that's not happened. And even if he truly wanted a fair resolution for Ukraine, the businessman in Trump will ask if there's really a (peace) deal to be had with a reasonable outlay from and risk to the US. If not, the smarter move from that mindset would be to move on and find other opportunities.

Diplomacy and American national interests, on the other hand, mean recognizing we've got skin in the game, that this situation affects our long-term prospects and strategic alliances. It's also an important reflection of our national values, but set that aside. Disengaging when we can't get the result we want quickly enough may work for businesses where you're looking for high-return opportunities. But it's really no way to run a country, much less stand by someone else's.

Of course Ukraine needs to commit to the peace process, too, which may mean being realistic about what they can get at this point. I believe they are. But even if they weren't, there's a world of difference between doing the work to make true peace possible vs. giving up because that's not possible from where we are. Striking a face-savng deal that doesn't guarantee lasting peace for Ukraine, or stop Putin from going after the rest of Europe next.

I know I've shared John Oliver's "Putin" song before, but now more than ever it's worth listening to again.

More Stories About Ukraine, Russia, and Europe

US had proposed Ukraine give up rights to Crimea. Zelenskyy refused - in fact, legally he can’t accept those terms. The recent history of Russia’s seizing the region, and why it matters today.

The US also demanded Ukraine give up its push for NATO membership. (X)

Ukraine finally agreed to the US minerals deal. (X) France24 called the proposal “typical of Trump’s gangster-style diplomacy.” (X) Details of the deal; the Conversation describes it as “the result of clever bargaining on the part of Ukraine’s war-time president.”

While negotiating a ceasefire, Trump repeatedly tried to excuse Russia’s massacre of Ukrainian civilians (X) and blame Ukraine for the bombings. The proposed peace plan heavily favors Russia and would freeze territory along the current front line. (X)

MSNBC argues Trump’s pushing for a quick deal falls short of “diplomacy.” (X)

“Air Raids and Antidepressants: Sleep Deprivation Takes a Toll in Ukraine” (X)

Bizarrely, Trump described Russia not taking over all of Ukraine as a concession. 

The Telegraph: “Rewarding aggression and overturning rules-based order [by Russia] will simply trigger many more invasions” (X)

National Review asks: “Is This Ukraine Peace Deal Worth a Trans-Atlantic Schism?” (X)

72 US Senators, including Republicans, approve new sanctions on Russian energy and banking. (X) Trump still needs to sign the bill before it takes effect. 

Ukraine and several European allies are demanding a 30-day peacefire from Russia. (X) Russia had previously allowed a 3-day ceasefire, but Ukraine accused them of violating it.

The US also plans to send refurbished Patriot air defense system to Ukraine. (X) Europe is also trying to arm Ukraine, but running out of time. (X)

The European parliament passed a resolution demanding return of Ukrainian children abducted by Russia.

From the “Wait... What?” File: CIA Deputy Director’s Son Killed Fighting for Russia in Ukraine – IStories (X)

[valzhangism]

13 frank zhang? (frankcourse! frankcourse!), 15 for chainsaw man?, 26, and 27 🫶

13. Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

i'm trying to think of something that isn't already obvious xD! uh, i hate how much a lot of fans just uses him as percy's sidekick. it's so obvious when someone only really cares about frank as a soft insecure boy to make percy look more confident, cool, and powerful. even when they acknowledge the intricacies of his character it feels shallow (ironically). they call him 'underrated' and be like okay that's enough frank zhang appreciation for the week. and look people aren't obligated to love him, i'm not holding a gun to people's heads and telling them to frankpost when they don't want to; it's just my personal lament as a frank fan, that's all. i'd honest to god rather he get less attention than he does now if it means having to stop seeing all the depictions of him as percy's second fiddle.

(this doesn't mean i hate frankercy friendship though, don't get me wrong. i quite like it when people write or depict them as actual equals.)

another one regarding how he's treated in conjunction to another character: leo. i hate how people treat narratives these days like stan wars. taking sides instead of considering what something specific says about a character, their personality, their behaviour, their inner workings. using frank to hate on leo; using leo to hate on frank. their characters are supposed to work in tandem! you can't properly love one if you don't at the very least respect the other! (also why i find it deeply unserious that people treat valzhang like it's satanism lol)

15. Unpopular opinion about manga/show?

i'm not very involved with the chainsaw man fandom and its discourse so i'm not sure if i can confidently say something is unpopular, but i'll try my best.

the art degradation in part 2 makes me cry! it's part of the reason i'm so lazy about reading csm these days. i like the plot, i love the characters... asa, yoru, yoshida, fami... but i just can't stand the art. by objective metric it's not even that bad, but when you look at part 1 or even other fujimoto works like look back or fire punch it's so obvious how much better he could be doing if he was just given time. every time i read the current state of part 2 it's a reminder of the awful state of the manga industry.

in terms of art, i also am glad the bomb girl movie is taking a more accurate art style approach. i know a lot of people liked the look of season 1, saying it was cinematic, charming. and i respect that! but personally, i just like this style more, it truly feels chainsaw man. if you know what i mean.

more related to the actual story/characters: i think quanxi is underrated and kishibe is overrated. though that might just be because qx hasn't been animated yet.

26. Most shippable character?

when it comes to chbc, i agree with your assessment that hazel is pretty shippable. i think i'd also make a case for piper, to me personally, because even though she's not the most... extroverted... i think she has a very grounded personality that's kind of fun to match with other people.

other fandoms? objectively, komaeda and deku have probably been shipped with anyone under the sun. to me, though... i find myself pretty down for almost any femslash kaede ship. also maybe a bit controversial but i think subaru (enstars) is shippable with a lot of the other guys, maybe because he's the literal face of the game.

27. Least shippable character?

in chbc, i'm thinking... percy? surprising considering he's the main character, but very few of his ships interest me because i only see him with annabeth. i know you like perachel (i need to get around to reading your fic on them!) and i think they're cute! but other than that i'm quite meh about anything he has to offer, unfortunately.

now other fandoms. hm. characters i just don't really ship with anybody include juzo (which is ironic considering his character revolves around being in love) (i think he's cute with munakata but it's just not what i want from him. you know?) and makima.

but if we're talking about characters that fandom doesn't really ship with anyone... that's hard lol i feel like a character being known automatically begets ships. maybe... mami tomoe? though that's a bit of a copout considering pmmm isn't exactly ship-oriented.

this turned out very long. oops. thanks for the ask!

[twotangledsisters]

What has been your top 10 favourite pieces of art you have drawn and why?

Oooh, that's hard!

But I'll give it my best shot! I'm gonna try going from least fave to fave but... no an excuse science!

10.- Cass and Caine Sketch

Starting with a sketch feels a bit wrong but this WIP is still on my to-do-list despite being from Feb of last year, almost an entire year old now, and there's very little I want to change about the initial sketch.

I dunno why this sketch came out so well, but the body language just reads for me in a way I don't usually capture.

9.- This set

It's definitely cheating to include three drawings one but... they wouldn't make it individually, but the set? Amazing. Especially because they're over a year old, they're from August of 2023 and I don't know if I could re-create art this good today?? I can't say it's luck because I did three of them one after the other.... but did some art deity lend me a hand without me noticing? Maybe.

8.- Cass and Caine again!

This one is pretty self-explanatory. It's a simple piece, nothing too amazing skill-wise, but the colours, the placement, it's a piece I am still super proud of and remains my ipad background to this day :D

7.- Cassandra with swords

Another piece that's not too complex but just comes together beautifully. Was my icon on ao3 up until a few days ago!

6.- The mermaid and the pirate

This is my current desktop background and while I could definitely do this better now, I still really love the colours in this piece, the story it tells and the composition :D

5.- This ArtFight for @maitaitiu

THIS ONE.

This is for my inner-child.

I love pokemon, it was definitely amongst (if not the very first) the first fandoms I was ever in. And it was through watching pokemon speedpaints on youtube that I got into digital art, opened up a Deviantart account, starting publishing drawings done on the pc with my mouse on there, made friends, kept drawing.... pokemon is my origin story yet I hadn't drawn them in YEARS.

So this piece for ArtFight with all the little details just made me think, wow, my younger self would be so IMPRESSED XD

Plus it makes me want to pick up my ds or switch and play some more XD

4.- Another ArtFight Attack (for Demon2000)

This combining of my chibi style and the geometric edges works soooo well. I still think this is perfect, I would not change anything. And it's the predecessor of my current style, it's what made me realise how much I like sharp edges in my art and vibrant colours :D

It even has the combination of gradients and cell-shading!

3.- Cass and Fidella

This is my most popular piece of art and while I wasn't 100% at the time... I now see it. I'm especially proud of the colours and OWL :D

Love owl.

2.- Cassandra in Coronation Dress

I think this is the best drawing of Cassandra I've ever done, even if it's not a very obvious one because it's in a pretty dress and very leaning into my own AUs. But that's a good thing, it's more my art than the piece before this.

Her expression in this, how good her face looks, the shimmering fabric of the dress.... I love everything about this piece (except maybe the background, it needs a background which is why....)

1.- Captain!

It having a background and being a scene (screenshot redraw for the win!) just makes this piece stand out.

Another piece where there really isn't anything I'd change.

(although I'd like to get better at background before next year!)

So yeah.... I think those are probably my ten best pieces.

Definitely a lot more older art than I expected but I just haven't had the right brain for creativity recently so my art is definitely a lot more flat than it could be.

But that's fine.

Creative journeys are never linear :D

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1150: The Devil's Sister (?) (Super Smash Bros Ultimate X Tekken)

3:23 p.m. at the Smash Mansion's Dining Halls.......

Zelda: (Sighs While Crossing her Arms and Walking Along with Mewtwo and Ganondorf) For the last time, Ganon, Mewwy and I are not interested in joining your little heist tonight.

Ganondorf: Oh come now, you two, it'll only be one night and the obtaining the sacred jew will be twice as short and less time restraint than originally planned with your assistance around and about.

Mewtwo: But everyone else in the League will take part in this too, right? Couldn't you have one play the distraction role instead?

Ganondorf: I already assigned everyone to their roles ages ago and even then, I can't really say I trust either of them with this task in question. Bowser and Ridley wouldn't be able keep their mouths shut for the likes of them, Dark Samus' shape-shifting abilities would rise suspension, and the Devil Brat-

The trio's eyes begins to widened as they see Kazuya repeatedly banging his head on the table while everyone else present watching him and Hades chuckling maniacally at the scene itself.

Ganondorf: (Raises his Eyebrow in Confusion) Is not currently banging his head on the table like a madman, what's going on here?

Mewtwo: (Notices a Young Woman Sporting a Purple Colored Tips Faded into her Black Hair, Standing Behind Kazuya with a Smirk on her Face) And who's this?

Hades: (Gets Up From his Seat) Ohohoo! You three are in for a helluva treat right now! Princess, gentlemen, allow me to introduce you Reina Mishima.

Reina: (Causally Waves at the Three) 'Sup.

Zelda: Wait, Mishima? Does that mean you're-

Reina: (Smiles Brightly) That's right!~ I just so happen to be Kazuya's baby sister~ (Was About Ruffle The Top of Kazuya's Head Until....)

Kazuya: (Angrily Points at his "Sister") DON'T!....Touch me.

Reina: (Moves her Hand Away From Kazuya) Fine. Whatever you say, Onee-san~

Kazuya: DON'T CALL ME THAT EITHER!!!

Ganondorf: Okay, I'm confused. (Turns to Kazuya) You have a sibling this entire time?

Reina: Make that "siblings" actually. There's many of us around believe or not.

Mewtwo: (Raises an Eyebrow) How many are we talking exactly?

Reina: Oh I dunno~ Nine....Eighteen.....Maybe twenty-five of us perhaps~

Everyone: TWENTY FIVE!?

Hades: Yeeeeeeup!~ And none of them belongs to Kazumi either. Old Hachi-Boy might've gotten over that train wreck real quick that day cause he was getting BUSY in these past few years!

Bowser: Oh God the Child Support Payment must've been off the roof for the guy. (Eyes Suddenly Starts to Widened) Does even PAID Child Support to begin with?

Sephiroth: Given the the history we were given about him so far, I wouldn't be surprised if that turns out to be the case.

Pichu: (Nodded in Agreement) Pi.

Reina: Nah I wouldn't say that's the case entirely. The old fart never activately been around in any of our lives, bit he has provided all of us the funds and resources we needed to survive in the outside world. Well.....(Smirks Down at a Severely Pissed Off Kazuya) Almost all of us.

Zelda: (Still Surpised at What is Happening Right Now) This is all so much to process at once.....I need something to snack on ASAP!

Mewtwo: Got it. (Summons a Bag of Chips in Front of Zelda With a Snap of his Finger)

Zelda: (Catches the Bag Before Letting Out a Loud Gasps and Pulling her Best Friend into a Very Loving Hug) Mewwy, I love you with every fiber of my soul!~ Let's go!~ (Grabs Mewtwo by the Hand and Rushes Over to the Leagues of Villains' Table to Having a Much Better Viewing Experience)

Ganondorf: So....Given that you're Heihachi's daughter, have you learned a thing or two about his family fighting style as well?

Reina: For the most part. I took a few lessons from his training guide videos a while back and it's been proven beneficial so far. (Let Out a Bit of a Chuckle) A few of peers would usually go on and on saying that learning Martial Arts is a waste of time, but I dunno. It feels nice to fight your own battles for once. (Wiggles her Fingers a Little Before Balling her Fist Up, Creating a Small Purple Electricity Around the Knuckles) It's also satisfying to crush any weak, small fry that tries to get in my way.

Ganondorf: Assertive dominance and power hungry.....(Forms an Evil Smirk on his Face) Not bad. Ever thought about joining our League-

Kazuya: NO! NO! NO! She is NOT joining our group!

Ganondorf: (Casually Shrugs) Don't see why? We ARE in need of new recruits.

Ridley: Plus, she does seems to fit the qualifications of a villain so far, so-

A Devil Beam starts coming towards Space Pirate's direction before quickly dodging it completely.

Ridley: (Glares at Kazuya) What the hell, man!? I was just saying!

Kazuya: (Glares Back at Ridley) And you need to learn when to keep your mouth shut, bird!!

Ridley: Hey, don't get pissy at me for stating the obvious! And I'm a freaking dragon!....I think?....

Reina: Oh come now, Kazu, there's no need for you get so mad~ I personally don't see anything wrong with us working together from time to time.

Kazuya: (Turns to Reina) I do not associate myself with snot-nosed brats. Let alone one who doesn't seem to know her PLACE!

Reina: No need to get so hostile. Your crew mates here were only presenting me an offer I have no reason to refuse.

Kazuya: And I decline you from EVER joining our ranks!!

Bowser: (Nervously Raise Up his Finger) I don't really think you have a say in the matt-

Kazuya: SHUT UP!

Kazuya angrily shoots another Devil Beam at Bowser, whom quickly dodges it as well.

Reina: ('Sigh') Honestly. Have you always throw hissy fits whenever things don't go your way? At your own age nonetheless?

Mewtwo: You think that's immature? You should've seen all the times him and his subordinates drinking celebrating around your father's grave every chance they get.

Reina: Really?....Can't tell if that's sad or pathetic.

Mewtwo: I say it's the latter.

Kazuya shoots yet another Devil Beam at Mewtwo, only for Zelda to stop it from hitting him by using her manipulation power with the palm of her hand

Zelda: (Glares at Kazuya While Slowly Erasing the Beam Entirely) Don't. Even.

Reina: (Gives Zelda a Impressed Smile on her Face) Gotta say, that's some nifty telekinesis powers you got there, princess.

Zelda: (Turns to Reina with a Bright Smile on her Face) Thanks!~ Mewwy's been teaching me a thing or two on how to use them more fluently

Reina: (Chuckles Lightly While Pointing at Mewtwo) This cutie suppose to be your teacher or something?

Zelda: Not just that. (Happily Hugs Mewtwo Again) This cutie is also my bestest friend in the whole wide world!~

Mewtwo: (Looks Away While Blushing) Nothing about me screams cute, Zelda......

Reina: Intellect and cool collected. (Turns Back to her Shakingly Enraged Older Brother) You should learn a few things from him, Kazu. Maybe then you wouldn't be deemed as a failure to the Mishima Family's name. (Casually Shrugs) Hell, I wouldn't even be surprised if your mother thought the same way too before she di-

Before Reina could even finish the rest of her sentence, Kazuya delivers a powerful, electric surging punch towards her face, only for the young woman to catch it at the last second woth an iron grip, much to everyone's surprise.

Bowser: (Immediately Gets Up From his Seat) Oh shit!

Ridley: Another escalation happening here, people!

Sephiroth: (Rolls his Eyes) No surprise there.

Hades: And the sparks begins to fly at long last!

Ganondorf: (Smirk Grew Wider) Excellent.

Reina: Well, would you look at that!~ (Forms an Evil, Cocky Smirk on her Face While Still Holdong onto Kazuya's Fist) We're actually getting somewhere here.

Kazuya: (Tries His Very Hardest to Power Through Reina's Grip While Grunting) Sister......or not.....I WILL kill you.....With my own BARE HANDS!!!

Reina: You're more than welcome to try. But I must warn you though.....I never take my punches lightly....nor do I take lightly to those who are all talk....So unless you wanna know what it feels like to grovel on a solid floor, cut the bullshit, try your hardest, and push me towards my. Absolute. Limit.

Kazuya: Gladly.

Kazuya uses his other fist to try and punch Reina for the second time and-

冬夜!!

Kazuya's eyes suddenly starts to widen as he turns to see a ghost of his own mother, Kazumi, stand beside him, silently shaking her head at in disappointment. It was long for only son take a deep breath and loosen the force of his punch.

Kazuya: No. I won't kill you. Not yet anyways.

Reina: (Raises an Eyebrow as She Slowly Starts to Losen her Grip) Really? You're giving up just like that? Pretty disappointing if you ask me-

Kazuya: Quiet, you insufferable brat! That's not what I'm doing! I'm only putting this on hold for now. But the next time I see you, I won't be so merciful.

Reina: (Stares at Kazuya Fore a Brief Second Before Sighing in Defeat) Fine. Whatever you say, Kazuya. (Finally Let's Go of Kazuya's Hand) I have a busy schedule on my hands already. (Properly Bows to Everyone Else at the Table) So I must bid ypu all adieu for now.

Ganondorf: (Walks Up to Reina) Wait. Before you go anywhere, here. (Gives Reina the Leagues of Villains Business Card) The offer still stands for you to join our League if you like.

Reina: (Smiles Brightly at Ganondorf) Why, thank you very much, Senpai!~ (Place the Business Card in her Jackey Pocket) I'll be sure to keep you all in touch going forward. In the meantime, I'll actually take my leave for real this time. (Walks Away Before Suddenly Stopping in her Tracks) Oh and......Onee-Chan? If you still wanna try and kill me with your own bare hands, you know where to find me. (Turns Back to Kazuya One Last Time With an Evil Grin on her Face) And I'll be sure show not to show you any form of mercy on my end either. (Turns Away Before Walking Away, Waving Goodbye to Everyone)

Zelda: (Happily Waves Goodbye to the New Girl Along With Almost Everyone Else) Byeeee, Reina!~ It was nice meeting you!~

Hades: Come back amd humble Kazu-boy anytime you want!~

Sephiroth: Till we meet again I suppose.

Pichu: Pi-chuuuu!~

Ganondorf: (Let's Out a Satisfied Sigh) Well now. I suppose an agreement is in order. All in favor letting Reina join the League: Say 'Aye'! (Raises his Hand Up)

Everyone: (Raises Their Hands Up as Well) Aye!/Pi!

Kazuya: (Angrily Transform into his Devil Form) ('GRAAAAAAAA') FUCK IT! I'm going out for fresh air and you all can kiss the stone cold part of my ass!!

Kazuya sky rockets himself out of the mansion, breaking parts of the ceiling as it falls down on the table.

Ganondorf: ('Sigh') Great. The devil brat's tantrum destroyed the ceiling again. All in favor in telling the ladies what happened- Not it!

Bowser: Not it!

Zelda: Not it!

Mewtwo: Not it.

Hades: Not itttt!~

Sephiroth: Not it.

Pichu: Pichu!~

Dark Samus: Not it....

Ridley: Not it- Ahhh Damnit! Again with this!?

Bowser: (Shrugs) Sorry, man. Rules are rules.

Dark Samus: I'll miss you~

Ridley: (Sighs in Defeat While Getting Up From his Seat) Yeah, yeah, I'll miss you too, babe. (Starts Walking Off) I swear, I can't have anything good in this place.....

@cyber-wildcat

@caleb13frede

@tampire

@albion-93

@bestpony666

@thelexhex

[skypiea]

(I'm with you with regards to the "quite easily I like it" OP post btw! Just wanna make that clear ^^;;) I almost wonder if the gripes are like, in part people who see how the women are drawn and base All Their Opinions of the series on that. That or they got mad at the clown thing Tumblr did and just decided to hate the series for it. Or they're just a little hater, honestly anything can apply. I'm not a fan of OP, haven't seen a second of it to make a decision, but like. 5 or 6 (including you- im not just a random, im just really shy LOL) of my friends are, and the one thing keeping me off from watching it is the fact that it's one of the longest animes still going- And I almost wonder if that also has a part to play in the "lol how can u watch one piece" thing people have going on. Also, have you seen the bananawanis yet?? I don't go here but I love them.

Thanks for the message! I hope you don't mind a bit of rambling (all that I'm capable of, always).

The thing is, I think there are plenty of things to criticize about one piece. I’ve seen and had many thoughtful discussions about elements of the work that can easily be considered harmful stereotypes, as well as some well-intentioned ideas that I think were executed in a subpar and clumsy manner. Some of these are directly a result of the author being only 1 guy with 1 lived experience, some are the result of broader issues in the shonen genre.

And these discussions are great! Everyone is better off for having thought about these potentially damaging aspects deeper, and it’s incredibly important to be able to recognize that an author you respect and follow isn’t perfect and doesn’t need defending over every single thing. And at the same time, I fully respect anyone who has no interest in getting into the work because they don’t want to put up with any of the parts that are far from perfect.

Personally, what I can’t stand is the tone of condescension people are very quick to take… I do not fault anyone for not digging the show's visual style, it's not for everyone. But I don't really appreciate the implication that I'm like, stupid or misogynist or cumbrained just because I enjoy the work overall. Or even because I do enjoy Oda's art; I think he is a really talented artist, but elements of his stylization are not always my favorite, including both his general figures for both women and men. This is not even starting to mention the incredible talents of many of the individual animators who work on the one piece anime, who all put a lot of their own amazing flair into adapting the work.

On the topic of the latter thing, I've truly never understood the length being a barrier to the ability to enjoy the work. It's always really baffled me...? I don't know if it's like, people who are only interested in getting into OP specifically to interact with the fandom, but in my opinion there's no actual factor that makes you need to catch up to current as fast as possible. In my mind, having so much of a new thing is wonderful for me; I'll have a lot of great story to enjoy, I can take it at my own pace, enjoy watching a bit at a time for a long time. I guess everyone just wants to be done with something as fast as possible these days... Pretty sad... Make it last and enjoy it lots :-)

I've gone on for long enough, but basically, I couldn't care less if anyone doesn't enjoy the same thing that I enjoy a lot--that's life! I simply can't stand being treated like some sort of idiot for liking it, and I'm done basically agreeing with those kinds of people by giving them any ground. None of this is a super serious problem of course, just a pet peeve... but what is a blog for if not talking at length about my silly little pet peeves ;-)

Of course I adore the Bananawani, as well as all the other fun and silly animals of the one piece world. I hope we'll see them again one day, it's been so long... Here's one of my favorite one piece species for you, the Lapin. Love these guys.

To finish off, I'm just going to include one of my favorite recent pieces of one piece's animation. Hope everyone's havin a lovely day ^_^

[hanmi-xo]

Chapter 4: "A Blooming Moment"

| Between Us | Chapter List |

Previous | Next ------------------

| L I H U A |

I played with my fingers while I waited for Minghao. The front of the museum wasn't that busy when I showed up with a few couples and elderly people walking around. I waited outside next to the ticket booth.

"I'm sorry, but Minghao is currently tour guiding a group right now," the elderly man said. He stood behind the counter with an apologetic look with a radio in his hand. "His break will be in 15 minutes. Did you want to wait here or walk around? But if you decide to go inside, you'll need to pay a ticket for entrance."

I stared at the building which had carefully crafted architecture. The sun was hidden behind the clock tower that stood tall at the center of the building.

The exterior walls were similar to the renaissance era with the way the upper arches curved into an elegant form. It looked like I was staring into a painting- or history if you will.

Did I want to enter the place again?

The image of that painting came into mind. It was my conundrum.

"I'll buy a ticket."

~

The museum was the same as I first entered this place. Elegant yet modern. I walked passed the water fountain and made my way pass the crowds. The skyline roofing caused light to shine through inside the building. I remembered where the painting was from the art gallery after following the different yet recognizable paintings.

Upon reaching the area, it was hidden from the crowd. It stood upright with nobody around to admire its crafts.

I stared at the painting and anchored myself in front of it. I felt some sort of connection to this painting. I don't know why, but I did.

I feel like I've seen this before, but where exactly?

Was it one of my paintings? It looked similar to it the more I gazed at its strokes and colors. The tones were recognizable but the way it was painted- the more I looked at it- it wasn't really similar to my style of art.

I crossed my arms. There was something standing out within the painting. It was small, but I was able to see it.

I looked behind me to see if anyone was around. It seemed the room was almost empty. There was an elderly couple leaving the area, and I quickly went under the black stanchion that separated me from the painting.

I tilted my head to get a better look at the engraving. There was some paint cover it. The layer was thick than the rest of the painting. It was like someone painted over it.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I jumped from the sudden voice. I turned around and saw the man who I've been waiting for. He was giving me a confused look.

I quickly went back to the other side of the stanchion and he watched me do so with a raised brow. He glanced at the painting before looking back at me.

"Listen, you can look, but you can't touch," he says with crossed arms. "What were you doing anyways? There's a rope barrier for a reason."

"Uhm..." I felt embarrassed for being caught. "I was just looking at something within the painting..."

I twiddled with my thumbs, avoiding his judging eyes.

He moved next to me, and I saw him stare at the painting too. He seemed to be admiring the artwork just like before. There was a sparkle in his eyes with the way he looked at it.

It makes me wonder...

"Do you also like the painting?" I decide to ask him.

Minghao turned his head towards me with wide eyes. He was bit taken back from my question, but he didn't seem against my curiosity. He crossed his arms with a thoughtful look and gazed back at the painting.

"It's a good painting, I guess," he says. His brown orbs shifted back towards me. "Why?"

I put my hands behind my back and stared at the artwork again. It hung there and presented itself as if it wanted me to speak about my connection towards it. It was bizarre and hard to explain. It felt like it was trying to tell me something...

I tilted my head and my eyes went back to the small carving that seemed to be painted over at the corner of the art piece. I could recognize the sketch, but I also couldn't.

"Have you ever felt so connected with an art piece that... you can't stop coming back to it...?" I say my thoughts aloud. "Like you want to know more about it?"

There was a moment of silence between us but I felt his dark orbs hit me. I turned to look at him and his eyes met mine. He stared at me with an expression I couldn't understand.

Did he agree with me or was he judging me for saying such a thing?

I looked away from him- breaking our eye contact.

"Never mind..." I mutter.

I guess I shouldn't have asked him.

My eyes wandered the floor before staring back at the man who seemed to be doing the same. He was quiet, but the way his brows knitted together told me he was thinking.

I wanted to ask what was on his mind, but I didn't.

I came here to get my journal. So I shouldn't bother him longer than I already have.

"Minghao," I call for him.

His eyes shifted towards me. "Yeah?"

"Do you have my journal?" I ask him.

He changed his composure and slowly nodded his head. "Yeah..."

His voice seemed hesitant. It was like he wasn't sure if he should confirm its whereabouts.

I felt a little suspicious of him so I stared him down. He avoided eye contact with me and quickly maneuvered away from me. He made an invisible barrier between us as if he was trying to get away from me.

"So.." I start. "Where is it?"

I watched him slowly turn his head further away from me. I narrowed my brows.

"Minghao?" I called for him again.

Why was he acting so cold all of the sudden? Or rather, why did he seemed so frigid?

"Hey," he says suddenly. His voice was low and slow. "I'll give it to you later, okay?"

I narrowed my brows. This isn't what I agreed on.

I walked in front of him in hopes of speaking to him without him avoiding me. He had an awkward expression and shifted his eyes to avoid mind. He looked guilty over something.

But what exactly?

"Minghao," I call for his attention.

He continued look away as if he couldn't hear me. I was getting upset with his behavior.

"Where's my journal?" I ask once more, but this time my voice was stern compared to before. "Can you please tell me where it is?"

I watched his eyes slowly look back at me. He seemed to show some cooperation, but he still seemed guilty over something.

"About your journal," he starts.

He closed his eyes and put his hands up as if he was trying to calm me down over something I don't know about.

"You have every right to be mad, but..." he spoke slowly.

I squinted my eyes at him. "Mad?"

Why should I be mad?

"Let's say... I might have... " He spoke almost in a whisper and it was hard for me to hear the end of his sentence.

I raised a brow in confusion. "Wait, what did you say?"

I watched him closed his eyes once more before taking to courage to speak aloud. He gave me an expression as if he didn't want to repeat himself but he knew he had to.

"I said, I might have ripped it," he says much louder than before.

I felt my stomach twist from his words.

—-

| M I N G H A O |

She was upset. And she had every right to be. I didn't intend for this to happen, but it did, and I don't know how to make things better.

I gave her the journal before getting off my shift, and she stared at it with horror. She was quiet and didn't know what to say to me.

I felt guilty beyond measure.

What was I supposed to say at a time like this?

"About your journal, I-"

"Don't," she cut me off quickly.

Her voice was gentle yet cold. It was a tone I didn't think I would be able to hear from her. Her eyes were low and avoided looking at me.

How was I able to make this up for her? I hated feeling guilty, and I hated knowing that I couldn't fix what I've done.

"I can drive you home," I tell her.

I needed to find some way to find common ground. She may be a woman, but I still have my sense of morality.

I watched her sit down on the outside bench, ignoring me. She was more concerned over the journal and how it was mishandled.

I found myself watching her as she checked each page to see if anything was missing along with counting photos. She was thorough with her organization with the way she knew where each page and photo goes. She must have spent a lot of time writing in it. There was a lot, and I mean, a lot of things thrown into that. It amazes me how she's able to keep it all in there without it falling out.

Unlike me who broke it the moment I turned it around...

She picked up the worn-out letter that was written in Chinese, and my eyes lit up.

Her eyes turned to me as if she knew I was looking. I immediately tried to look away, but I felt her staring at me.

"Did you see what's inside?" Her voice was soft yet curious.

I turned to look at her. She had her usually calm expression. I don't know if I should be concerned. Was she mad? Upset? Or was she okay now?

"No..." I answered.

It wasn't the entire truth since I did get a glimpse of that letter. I tried to avoid looking at everything else though.

She smiled softly before turning away from me. She seemed to be amused by something. I watched her lift the letter in her hands with low eyes. She held it as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

Her eyes went up and I followed her gaze. She was staring at the park across from us. The lake was lively with a few people walking around it and other getting their daily run. Then there were those that walked their dogs and those that fished or did yoga.

The weather was nice today.

The trees softly danced with the spring flowers blooming under them. The scenery was beautiful. It was almost like a scene in a book.

I looked back at Lihua.

She was smiling softly while she gazed at the scenery in front of us. It was that same look she had on the balcony back at the reunion. Though she was stressed earlier, she looked almost in bliss.

She seemed happy.

Strange enough, I couldn't help but gaze at her. Why did she look like that?

She seemed so fond of the world around her...

"I'm sorry for ripping your journal." The words came out of my mouth without realizing it. It must be from the guilt I had, and I was too fearful to speak about the matter.

It's too embarrassing to admit my faults, but for some reason, Lihua just seemed to have the patience for me- or maybe for almost anything.

Maybe it's because of this tranquil nature of hers, or maybe it's just I how felt in the moment from seeing the beauty around me, but I felt the need to tell her how guilty I felt.

She slowly turned to look at me. Her head titled to get a view of my face that I tried to hide from her. I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my embarrassment before looking away.

I felt the breeze hit me with a few petals flying from the cherry blossom tree near us.

"It's alright."

Her voice danced with the wind. I turned around to look at her. She was smiling at me, and I couldn't avoid her eyes.

A few petals floated pass us with a butterflies fluttering around.

For a moment, I felt my gut twirl. It crawled all around and gave me goosebumps along my skin. My heart raced with a follow of nervousness. But why should I be nervous? And what would making me nervous?

I didn't understand this feeling.

I watched Lihua get off the bench after fixing what she can with her journal. She was ready to leave.

I didn't want her to go yet.

It might be the warmth of the sun, or maybe the way the place felt too lively to just walk away, but I didn't want her to leave like this.

"Don't you want to walk around and look at the scenery?" I ask her.

She looked at me with surprise. I watched her twirl back around to look at the park we were looking at earlier. She thought for a moment before looking over at me.

Her orbs met mine, and I felt warm and a tingle in my gut.

"Are you asking me to go on a walk with you?"

Her question threw me off from the way she worded it. There's no way I asked her that. I asked her if she wanted to walk around to look at the scenery. I don't recall bringing myself up.

And even if I did, I highly doubt she'll say yes. That's practically a date.

She's Dokyeom's sister.

Why would I do that?

"Why would I ask you to go on a walk with me?" My voice came out a bit rude than intended.

Her eyes widened. "Oh."

I watched her turn away again, and I felt myself get guilty. She didn't get upset because of that did she?

"I'll walk around then," she says.

Her eyes looked towards the park before looking back at me. Her eyes sparkled from the sunlight.

"Thanks again for my journal, Minghao." Her voice was soft and smooth.

Why did she have to say my name like that? And why did she act like I wasn't going to see her for awhile?

I'm friends with her brother. So I'll see her around... right?

The thought of her not being around suddenly hit me. It's not like we're friends. I'm Dokyeom's friend. Not hers.

But my legs moved on their own.

And I found myself following her.

Her eyes met mine again once she realized I was behind her. I too was surprised by my own actions.

"Uh..." Was all I could say like the moron I am.

She tilted her head at me with curled lips. She seemed amused by my behavior.

Trust me. I'm not always like this.

"If you wanted to go for a walk together, we can," she tells me.

I was ready to protest against her.

"I won't consider it a date," she quickly tells me. It was like she read my mind. "So don't worry."

I don't know why, but I disliked her words. I didn't hate it nor did I like it. I don't know.

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet. I followed behind her as she led the way.

The park was beautiful and charming. It was much prettier up close seeing the ducks swim in the lake and the squirrels that ran across the grass to climb up the trees. The scent of flowers were faint and being under the trees' leaves felt like a breath of fresh air. The path around the lake wasn't too long, but it was shorter than I expected.

She didn't speak during the walk.

Maybe it's because she didn't know what to say to me, or maybe it's because she didn't want me to feel irritated by her presence.

But I wish she spoke.

It was quiet with her, but it didn't feel terrible. Was walks always this peaceful?

When I walk alone, it's nothing like this.

I wish the walk was longer...

But she had to go.

~

"I can drive you home," I insisted.

She was ready to go our separate ways far quicker than I thought she would. We stood near a water fountain square area where there were different paths.

There weren't much people around other than an elder man with his grandchild feeding the birds.

"It's okay. You've done enough, already. I can ride the bus," she says politely. The sound of the fountain was faint behind her voice.

"Would Dokyeom be okay with that?" I ask her. I couldn't help but bring up her brother.

I didn't like how she suddenly thought of me as a stranger. We aren't close enough to be friends but I'm sure we couldn't be strangers.

We're acquaintances at this point.

"Dokyeom?" She said with a hum.

I watched her brows knitted before softening. She was thinking of her dear brother who I know wouldn't like it if she road the bus when someone he knows could just drive her.

"Even if he would be upset," she starts.

Her eyes met with mine.

"I thought you don't like being around women?"

Her question was abrupt and caught my attention. It was like a switch flickered within me. I do dislike being around women, but it's mostly certain ones.

But with Lihua-

She makes me forget about them. My views of all the girls I met in my life that used me and messed with me were bitter.

But with Lihua, she seemed different.

I didn't know what to say to her. It always felt like she knew how to tip me off balance even when my guard is up. I never had to think this much for a woman, other than my mother.

"I rather deal with my brother than make you uncomfortable," she tells me.

Her voice carried through the breeze. Some of her bangs waved from the wind. My chest felt funny with the way she spoke towards me.

She smiled. "I can handle my brother. I more concerned how you'll feel towards me being around you."

Her eyes changed tones with a look that seemed apologetic. I didn't like it.

"You don't have to be nice to me just because Dokyeom's my brother," she says.

She was smiling, but I knew inside she wasn't. There was something about her I didn't understand. She seemed to care deeply about her brother, but she also seemed to belittle herself at times. I didn't understand it. But I wanted to...

Was it because of me? Or was it something else?

"I'll see you around. Okay, Minghao?" she says before I can find the words to speak.

I watched her turn around and make her way far from me. Her retreating figure didn't feel right. Or rather, I didn't feel right.

Her words bothered me. And the look she had bothered me more.

I am Dokyeom's friend, and she is his sister. Yet, why do I feel annoyed hearing her say that to me?

Am I really treating her like this because of Dokyeom? Because she's related to him?

~

The drive home was quiet. I couldn't find myself to play music and when I got home, my empty space didn't make me feel any better.

I'm used to being alone, but right now, my thoughts made me feel different.

Why does it feel empty when I'm alone but not so bad when Lihua is there? She doesn't even talk yet I feel okay to have her company.

The image of her filled my mind.

I wish she let me drove her home. I wished she didn't have that look when she spoke.

I stared at my phone as I laid in my bed. I had emails about upcoming clients that want to examine the museum and other emails about upcoming art pieces that would be coming in next month that I would have to analyze.

Art pieces...

The painting came into mind.

Lihua was invested in it- even having to go pass the stanchions. I wander what makes her so intrigued by the painting?

I remember getting it from a seller and the quality was in good shape. He didn't say much about the art piece other than the painting was sold to him long ago. It's around 10 years old he said, but the whereabouts of it is unknown. Should I tell her about the painting?

But wasn't Lihua losing interest in art?

They way she reacted towards the painting said otherwise. It wasn't a look of disgust or indifference though. She clearly was admiring it.

I wonder... is she's curious about it as much as I am?

My phone rung with a notification. It was the guys. They wanted to celebrate Soonyoung's upcoming race.

I refuse to let that rodent party in my abode. I just moved in here. I don't need him stinking up the place with his hamster vomit.

He can set the party elsewhere.

I narrowed my brows at the thought of using another person's home. It's worst knowing it's women I hardly know.

Should I even go if it's going to be held there?

---

| L I H U A |

I heard my phone ring with notifications while I tried to stitch the journal back together. Senko slept on his back on my bed. His paws were up in the air while he snoozed off in a comfortable position. He acted as if he was human with the way he was sleeping. I tried not to wake him up.

I grabbed my phone off my desk and stared at the messages the girls sent.

I didn't mind the guys coming over, but the thought of seeing Minghao again felt strange.

I'm sure I wouldn't be talking to him anyways. The guys can have their fun. I'll just be in my room.

A notification popped onto my screen.

Xu Minghao...

Do I dare click on it? My eyes wondered away. I don't think I should.

I turned off my phone and left it on my desk.

I have to fix my journal.

---

| M I N G H A O |

My phone rang again with notifications. Soonyoung seemed to get an answer.

Lihua hates parties?

I'm not too surprised by that. No wonder she was at the balcony...

If she's housemates with Seungcheol's girlfriend, then that means Lihua will be there.

It'll be at that house...

I stared at his question with contemplation.

Should I go?

Of course Soonyoung was going to make it weird. I rolled my eyes from his messages.

So in the morning we'll see what happens...

I was ready to put my phone away, but my phone gave me a notification. My eyes lit up upon reading the name.

Do I dare look at her profile?

No. Why should I?

Why should I look at some chick's profile? I mean- she is Dokyeom's sister though...

Should I?

—————- SM Post: Soonyoung has posted...

Minghao has posted...

• • • Previous | Next

[floaromaxtowns]

K + M + R for SaSha!

Rarepair Alphabet Ask Game [Accepting]

Saga/Shaka

K - If available, share a WIP of your ship (fic, art, fanvid, etc., whatever you'd like!). If you don't have a WIP available, feel free to share an idea for a fanwork you'd like to create for them.

Ah man, I've been meaning to do some stuff with these two for awhile now NGL! But some of my other projects have been getting in the way. I guess I can share some of my future plans with them (IDK when or if I'll get to them, but yknow):

Make a Saga/Shaka sculpting work in a similar style I did with AldeMu. Or seek out another inspiration for these two (currently there's a Hades/Kanon project in the works.); Decide if these two will get an acrylic stand in the future. They are DEFINETELY in my pool of options for my next order (depending on how things go down, I will try to get some more as christmas gifts for me.); Make a post-ND ending inspired comic of these two, in a similar vein as the one I did for AldeMu. I've been getting some ideas and thoughts.

M - Do you imagine your ship entering a long-term relationship? Why or why not?

There's one item from my to-do list above, that I saved for this answer LOL.

I've been meaning to put some work into my Omega's future AU for the golds. This includes, Shaka and Saga. Who are definetely together, in this plot. IDK exactly how I'll go about it, but I really want to draw these two in their 40s, no longer officially serving as warriors to Athena's army. BUT STILL, finding themselves caught up with the mess. The fact they make it to Omega's setting (which is 25 years after the classic series' events), should answer this question.

R - Are there any songs you associate with this ship?

Kendrick Lamar - United In Grief

I've been goin' through somethin' One thousand, eight hundred and 55 days I've been goin' through somethin' Be afraid

What is a bitch in a miniskirt? A man in his feelings with bitter nerve What is a woman that really hurt? A demon, you're better off killin' her What is a relative, making repetitive narratives on how you did it first? That is a predator, hit reverse All of your presidents evil thirst

Sad (feat. Afrojack)

Who am I? Someone that's afraid to let go, uh You decide if you're ever gonna let me know Suicide, if you ever try to let go, uh I'm sad, I know, yeah, I'm sad, I know, yeah Who am I?

𝖏𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖔𝖋𝖊 - know u better

Delta Heavy - Punish My Love

Nobody needs you, not like I do The moon and the stars are both jealous of you

And I don't wanna be without your love Could offer me the world but it ain't enough Can't spend another day without your touch Don't punish me tomorrow if the world gets rough

[nitrosodiumfmp]

Sinister City Might Be A Good Idea If I Change It

Having trekked into the forest to reconstitute my mind, and then trying and failing to channel my inner hunter-gatherer and catch a deer on foot, I have decided that the basics of Sinister City work really well. It's a great aesthetic - it's unique, I like it personally, it'll be interesting to make artistically, and the related blog post/s got reblogged twice, so I know other people are finding it cool. Most of my percieved gripes with the game came from (a) the environment would take ages to make, and people wouldn't want to explore randomly, and (b) the mystery plot doesn't make for a compelling gameplay loop with the additionally barren map.

So, let's step back. I want to keep the aesthetic of Sinister City, that's a given. But the current idea of the map is bad, and the current game loop is bad. So, instead of building a giant complex city for the player to go gallivanting off through, let's condense it down to a comparatively smaller area. Maybe the industrial district, or even just a handful of buildings. It wouldn't hurt to look to my inspirations for, well, inspiration. Kingpin was from 1999, so of course they couldn't render an entire city. The scale is hinted at through the skyboxes, ominous skyscrapers standing tall on the horizon amidst a fog of pollution and haze, but the maps themselves are mostly boxed in. You never see the whole city; it's either tight alleyways or an area with otherwise clear borders. Not to mention most of the maps are dark and grimy. This would probably be the way to go. Just have veneers of buildings where the map's borders are, and maybe add some sort of fake skyscrapers far out where the player can't clearly make them out. Toppy's Workshop did this sort of thing and it looks pretty convincing, at least, within the confines of that art style.

I got this image from the GameJolt page. The big spinning buildings and wacky, abstract skyscrapers hint that the world is much larger than it actually is, and I like that way of toying with the player's expectations and knowledge. But anyway, that's just making the map more understandable. I also need to make the game itself playable. And it's really as simple as taking my other ideas for a gameplay loop and putting it into this game. Think of my idea for the Zombie AI. They wander around, and when you're in their view, they begin chase. If you run off, they go back to patrolling. It's simple, and beyond that, it's very applicable to multiple styles of game. It's basically what Overdeath had, but obviously utilised better. So the game will now be a survival horror spooky adventure. You go through the various maps (or maybe one big map, not sure yet), either just getting to the end or doing some arbitrary task (collect 5 items, pull 5 levers, the bread and butter of survival horror). The story will be a secondary objective, a few notes sprinkled throughout the level to give context. I've come up with a sort of idea so far.

Essentially, you've been called in by a panicked worker to the industrial complex. The head scientist's gone mad, shutting off all the exits and making the workers build strange contraptions. Anyone who speaks up is taken away, which seems to coincide with the strange mechanical (?) guards patrolling the halls. You'll have to use your hacking skills (you're a hacker, by the way) to deactivate the mad scientist's systems, freeing the workers and ending his plan. One thing I think could be interesting is having trains to take you through different parts of the facility, so if you're having trouble, you can go to a new area and try your luck before coming back. I want the mad scientist to be more than set dressing, as well. You'll hear his security updates and self-memos over the intercom. You might even face him head-on at the end, though I suspect he'll be more machine than man at that point. I'm also changing why this fits the FMP brief. Like the Zombie game idea, the story of Midas becomes a metatext. Think about Midas, turning his daughter to gold. What if she became the first automaton instead? A being of metal, which could still move and think like a human? Or otherwise, he entombed her soul in gold. The scientist somehow figured out this power, perhaps through technology this time around, and took it upon himself to convert his underlings to new robotic bodies, obviously against their will. Locked up in his private quarters, he engineered a new force of automated workers, injecting them with the souls of his human workers.

Of course, remember the brief: "one thing can appear good at first, but ends up having terrible side effects". The scientist's workers may be obedient and thoughtless, but they are no match for human ingenuity. The unfettered spirit that has propelled us since we were cavemen, the thing that makes us different to, well, robots. It is this that allows our protagonist to shut down the scientist's plans and save the remaining mortal workers. Then on top of that, you have the element of surrealism and illusion that comes with the dark whimsy of the aesthetic. I could even add weaponry. Now this is the system-based game design I like, and strive for. The enemies and the collectibles/levers/arbitrary things can be reused throughout a level, or even multiple levels. I won't waste time making a city that nobody wants to explore, because the maps will be smaller and there'll be an emphasis on exploring to find the things. I could even add in a gun with limited ammunition, further incentivising you to look around.

There's just so many ways this can be done. Much better than having a boring walking simulator spurred on by an uninteresting mystery.

[noeou]

hello:) this is based off of aces halloween card because he has a line something like saying he has his makeup down and wants to try on us sometime. could you possibly do the first years x reader headcanons of them doing the readers makeup !! i love your crush ones

HIDDEN TALENT.

letting them do your makeup, willingly... or not.

includes: ace trappola, deuce spade, epel felmier, and sebek zigvolt. ( x gn!reader )

next parts: currently unavailable.

contains: fluff! romantic.

sincerely noe ,⠀thank you for your kind words, nonnie! im glad you enjoyed them and will enjoy these just as much :) there is no jack or silver because i can't see them being interested in makeup to that extent, i'm sorry.

ACE TRAPPOLA

although it may not look like it, ace is a lot better at makeup than you'd think. he's very quick about it as well. 

when you asked him to do your makeup for no particular reason, he was actually excited. spent the whole night looking at different styles that would suit you and practice on himself. yes, he did fall asleep with makeup on his face, doesn't matter.

you first got brunch at sam's, it was (in a way) awkward with ace just staring at your face but what did you expect?

"wow, you brought a lot more than i'd expect."

you stared at your once empty vanity filled with the supplies he brought. you didn't know whether to be flattered at his effort or offended at the fact he thought he'd need this much.

"only the best for the prefect," he mumbled, mind clearly elsewhere.

he worked in silence. it was kind of funny, how close he was to your face yet not once making eye contact with you. the concentration is truly on another level.

it didn't take too long before he stepped away, somewhat proud of his first attempt on your face. 

"that was a lot harder than i thought it'd be." ace sighed, glad to finally rest his arm.

you glared at him for that statement, despite knowing what he truly meant. as much as you wanted to bring up how rude the statement could be interpreted, you noticed something was off. ace was much, much paler than usual, other than his eyes that were darkened.

standing to get a better look at his face, you finally were able to look in the mirror (he wanted you to be surprised so he had you turned away.)

no, you were not met with a monstrosity. three hearts of different sizes were made around your left eye, resembling the single one on ace's. you never would have expected such a thing from the ace trappola, infamous prankster.

a gentle snore interrupted your thoughts; a grin tugging at the corner of your lips, you worked to move him to a more comfortable spot to get some rest.

DEUCE SPADE

he learned a lot of what he knows from his mother. to start, he'd catch his mom watching makeup tutorials as background noise while she'd do anything. that's how he was introduced to the art. 

when you asked him to do your makeup, the one he wanted to do immediately came to mind. it was one he was still working on perfecting, it was inspired by one of the characters in a drama his mother frequented; his favorite one (don't tell anyone.)

before getting to work, he watched the first episode with you to show you who the look was inspired by. he kept it on as he worked, not getting distracted for a moment.

"can you look up for me?" deuce requested, gently pulling your chin upward.

"she's actually pretty cool," you hummed, eyes still glued to the screen. "i can see why you chose her as inspiration."

he tapped your nose with the end of the brush in his hands, scoffing at your comment. "i chose her because she's my favorite in the show."

"just like i'm your favorite in this wonderland?"

"you are aware that i can mess your makeup up at any given moment, right?" deuce said, glaring.

"okayokay–" you grinned, "i'll stop."

which you did, until you didn't.

funny enough he finished when the show did. and the show wasn't short. nonetheless, you took so many pictures with and without him. going as far as to fix your hair like hers, just to tease him further. 

"i'm never doing this again." he groaned, falling into a pillow to hide his flushed face. it was his best attempt at tuning out your professions of love in anaccent similar to the character's.

EPEL FELMIER

he needed a face to practice makeup on that wasn't plastic in order to complete vil's assignment, leading us to where we are now. 

while he may not be a makeup pro, he could be mistaken for one given how much attention to detail there is in his work. the precision is unmatched among his peers, apple carving was to thank for that. 

he went for a more minimalistic look, if only it didn't sting as much as it did. 

the melody of piano being played in another room made sitting through this easier than it was, humming along to that epel put you through an hour's worth of skincare (not including the time you spent on it the night prior to) before getting to the makeup part. 

an unexplainable joy filled you when there was only lip gloss left on the table, you watched as epel began tidying up his other belongings before finishing the last part.

he quickly dragged his thumb across your lower lip, to check that the chapstick had already been absorbed. the warmth in your face was at first our of shyness at the unexpected gesture, which quickly turned to irritation when your lips began to sting.

"my lips burn, again!" you poked the skin around it, wanting to wipe off the plumper but at the same time not wanting to mess up the hours of progress. 

"don't talk, ya might get some in your mouth." epel said, looking up at you for a brief moment. "i need to take pictures, don't mess it up."

"wasn't planning on it…" after a few more minutes of silence, an idea struck you, "as long as you kiss it better."

taking advantage of the confusion in his face, you quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek. at least you won't be suffering alone.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

out of the other, he is definitely the most shy about being able to do makeup. he doesn't keep his knowledge secret, but he doesn't go out of his way to tell people about it either. 

he knows a lot about more traditional styles, finding the modern ones very… silly, if you will. 

given his more tradition preferences, sebek is definitely one to never use products found in stores. he makes his own. and yes, he does use them very often.

over a break, lilia convinced him to take you with them to briar valley. they planned a ball for a reason you can't recall, but it's allowed you to learn more about this side of sebek.

it took him a while to stop being flustered with the amount of skincare and make supplies he's mad. when he did, he most certainly geeked out about it. it was more of like what styles you do when, and techniques. 

"ooh, we match!" you grinned excitedly, looking at your face in the mirror.

you noticed a light shade of pink dust his ears at you observation.

"it's tradition that knights match with their lover at gatherings like these."

“what? really?” you gaped, you’ve truly come a long way.

it was almost like yesterday he was embarrassed to know you exist and now he’s willing to show your relationship to those he’s grown up with.

you pressed a kiss to his cheek before (debatably) skipping off to change.

[comicaurora]

Could you please remind me why redrawing old works is a bad idea? I'm conflicted about redoing some old designs.

It's a matter of the mindset. The creative process is ultimately iterative refinement. You start with a first draft, and then you keep polishing and changing and tweaking it until it looks good enough to release. As a natural consequence of practicing this process, you will become better at art over time as your process of refinement is itself refined. As an unhappy consequence, this means your older work will no longer measure up to your newly improved standards.

When this revelation hits, you have two choices:

Pick the project back up and refine it until it's up to your new standards ("actually good this time")

Accept that your old work is imperfect because all art is imperfect and move on to new progress.

Option 1 is very tempting. It can be galling to recognize flaws in your art after it's been released, and can make you feel deficient as an artist for releasing something you now recognize as subpar.

But ultimately? At that point, that's not your call to make. The work is already out there. It's already impacted people, already benefited its audience - you don't get to decide "actually this was worthless" once you can spot flaws in it, because flaws don't always diminish the impact of a work. Once the art exists, it's already shown its worth. Recognizing imperfection in your work is inevitable, but depriving your whole audience of your art because it no longer measures up to your personal standards of quality means nobody benefits. The impulse to fix old work and the impulse to bury and hide old work are two sides of the same coin - an ego that cannot stand to be associated with the creation of something deficient or flawed. How many times has George Lucas re-edited the original Star Wars trilogy to splice in more CGI monsters and wobble Han's head around? Has anyone ever felt that those changes improved the viewing experience? Succumbing to that impulse ultimately means depriving your own audience of the vast majority of your work that they might enjoy. Your standards are not their standards, and sometimes you need to trust your audience when they say they like something, even if all you can see is everything wrong with it.

The big hazard of this mindset is also a slippery slope. Iterative refinement never stops. There's always more room for improvement, and as long as you're creating you're going to get better at creating. Your old art will never measure up to your current standards, and if that's something you can't handle or step back from, you'll spend your entire artistic career constantly revisiting the same works over and over again, trying to get them to a level your current standards will allow you to be proud of. The end result is you'll create very little. Also, when you retread old ground, you frequently lose creative momentum - it's tempting to wallow in the past or feelings of creative inadequacy, or to notice structural problems that make you question the validity of the whole project from the ground up. Once you no longer believe in what you're creating, it'll be very difficult to keep it going.

There was a webcomic I no longer remember the name of that I followed for years and years - a standard-issue urban fantasy slice of life starring a big pile of OCs that started off as a gag-a-day thing with a very standard pseudo-anime style and eventually grew into a dimension-hopping saga with about a million subplots. There was magic, villainy, jokes about hammerspace, angsty demon curses, all that good stuff. And eventually I saw the creator write themselves into a corner, decide to reboot the entire series, start a new and improved run of the comic with their shiny polished art style - and stop before the new chapter 1 finished. To my knowledge the comic is still in limbo and very unlikely to ever return.

On the flipside there was the webcomic Archipelago that, when I started reading it, had already been running for a hot minute. The artist had actually already redrawn the first chapter, leading to a somewhat jarring dip in art quality afterwards - and I observed that the later chapters were significantly better-drawn than that redrawn first chapter, indicating that the artist had redrawn it some time ago and hadn't revisited it since.

I followed the story as it updated and watched as the art and shading style evolved. To my surprise, it actually finished, and I quite enjoyed the resolution. And I sometimes thought about what it would've looked like if the artist had succumbed to that redrawing temptation again. Their art had gotten so good by the end that to bring the rest of the story up to that level of quality would've taken years.

Would it have been worth it? I had just as much fun with the jagged black-and-white animesque early art as I did the fully shaded and highly polished finale. This was a story being crafted by someone who loved the story more than they needed it to be absolutely perfect. Just from the preview images you can see how the art style evolved over time.

It was a good story and I liked that it existed, and if the artist had gotten stuck in an ego-loop over making it look perfect I might not have gotten to see it through to the end.

There are also webcomics where redrawing or "fixing" the early installments might remove things I thought were really fun about them. The ludicrously long-running webcomic Girl Genius has what could be considered a coloring error throughout the entire second and third volume - it was the first part of the comic to be digitally colored, as the first volume is kept grayscale for in-story stylistic reasons - and, like many artists when first exposed to the glories of digital art, the Foglios went pretty ham on the saturation and gradients.

It's, as the kids say, A Lot Going On. But it gives this early volume an extremely distinctive aesthetic compared to later volumes, which are more sedate and balanced in shade, even in very colorful panels.

This means the first volume is black and white, the second and third volumes are incredibly intense, and everything after that feels much more grounded and balanced. As a happy coincidence, this follows the emotional arc of the protagonist, who spends the first volume subdued and miserable, the second and third flung headlong into a world she's fully unprepared for, and everything after that figuring out how to handle herself in the real world. If this were "fixed" it'd remove a lot of the aesthetic impact of that supersaturated arc, and I have very fond memories of appreciating the stylistic wildness the first time I read it.

On my end, I rewrote and rescripted the first chapter of Aurora probably half a dozen times in the years leading up to its initial release. I wanted it to be perfect. I had drafts from my "glowy rune tattoos are the hypest shit ever and I want to put them on everything even slightly magical" phase. I had my "just found the texturing brushes in Photoshop" phase. I had a version that started with flashback chapters showing key moments from the pasts of every primary character. I was running in place and making no forward progress on anything, and the more I reworked the beginning, the less confident I was in ever showing it to anyone. I only started going anywhere when I said "fuck it, this one's for REAL" and bunkered down to draw a real, proper beginning and the two chapters that'd go after it. The first chapter I released isn't perfect, obviously - it was never going to be. Sure, there could've been a version where my lineart was smoother, with fewer coloring errors and more consistent styling - but frankly if I was redoing the first chapter now I couldn't limit myself to correcting coloring errors. I'd find more things to "fix", more structural goofs and jagged bits of writing to smooth out, and in the end I'd create something paced and laid out completely differently - another first draft to add to the pile. And once I indulge that impulse I'll need to get a glass of milk to go with that cookie, then a straw, then a napkin, and by the time I'm done the storyline is in pieces and I've made no progress.

If you're not susceptible to this kind of slippery slope mindset, there is absolutely nothing wrong with playing with old art concepts and redrawing old work. But I know how I work, and I know I can either continue making forward progress or I can go back and polish my old stuff until it gleams, which will be appreciated by a tiny fraction of all of my audiences and will absolutely guarantee that I can produce no new content in the interim. I'm willing to be 80% satisfied with chapter 1 if it means I can actually do the story.

[animehouse-moe]

Oshi No Ko Episode 2: Third Option

If there was ever going to be an indicator as to what the quality of Oshi no Ko would actually be like, it's this episode. A single 24 minute stretch with Aqua and Ruby settled into their stories. And what does this episode tell you? Well, that the story is far more particular and slow moving forward, and that it's (like sections of the first episode) lazy. So I'll break it down a little bit here.

I'll get the story out of the way: it's inoffensive. They're setting the stage, but the characters feel somewhat hollow in doing so. The exposition carries no energy or flair so it can end up feeling very dry. Regardless of delivery though, the sentiment and information within is pretty solid. Aqua absolutely refuses to allow Ruby to go off and be an idol, which is a totally valid decision. They express and explore it well as Aqua uses his previous life to make his current one a breeze. I think a little more could be done about Aqua's resolve and his relationship with the director, but it is only really the first episode for him in this state.

Bringing back the child actor that Aqua was placed against in his early days is a nice touch, but the sort of "longing" that they express in their first meeting feels weird. Unless it's a guise for hatred or appreciation it feels pointless for a child to have held onto for so long.

And Truthfully, I don't think there's anything else that really grips me with the story here. It's a setup and exposition, they're getting the band (read: Idol Group) back together and starting off at school. Nothing really to write home about in that regard.

Now adaptation wise? Yeah, there's a lot going on that I want to complain about, particularly composition. But we'll get there in a bit. They opened the episode (after the OP) with this. Yeah. Great way to engage viewers and make them think the episode is going to be great.

I just don't understand how you open an episode with this. Sure, there's little bits inbetween here and there, but it's literally a black screen with text coming across it. It feels outright lazy, so much so that they couldn't be bothered to come up with anything else to display it.

So yeah, that's how they set the tone for the episode, but don't worry the content within also helps live up to the expectations. I think the most egregious thing for me was the composition. The characters and the environment just don't work at all together in a lot of scenes. And it's not just art and characters butting heads, look at Heavenly Delusion. The environment is totally different from the characters, but they mesh perfectly fine and don't end up with eyesores like these. It's like all those jokes about Disney movies and being able to tell which objects will be interacted with. Except, with this first example, the dish with something on it isn't interacted with. Nor is the phone or anything besides the juice box.

Anyways, more examples! Aqua stands out painfully against the art style of the background here, and so does his slippers.

And then there's stuff like this. Yeah, this first scene/angle looks perfectly normal. Or well, as close as normal can be to normal. The coffee mug next to the container of pens and whatnot is pretty obviously out of place, but it's better than some of the other stuff.

Also funny little detail! The coffee cup moves between cuts for zero reason. Miyako doesn't touch or move the cup, but it gets placed directly in front of her in some cuts without reason or purpose.

Anyways, another pointless piece of poor compositing. They don't pick up or move any of the awards or trophies so I can't fathom why they force them to stick out so badly. Even worse is the fact that the glass award is out of place, but the framed one is not.

And there's lots of examples of this throughout the episode, but I think my point's been made. There's a whole bunch of needless layering that creates jarring environments where there doesn't need to be. It's confusing.

Though it's not confusing but equally bothersome is the direction. It feels largely similar to the worse parts of episode 1. A lot of headshots of characters with nothing else in the environment and minimal motion. They do good when expressing full body movements, but they take a lot and place that focus on faces. On top of that, there's a lot of cycled animation. Plenty of scenes that remain moving but only through repetition, and it's really quite obvious with shorter ones like this.

And here's yet another example just to help drive the point home. It's super easy to come off as dismissive when providing negative commentary on something, so hopefully giving more examples will help explain it better.

Now you might be thinking, "aren't you just nitpicking everything?", and in a sense you're correct. But here's the thing - there's nothing to stop me from doing that. There's nothing where I can say, "well, X is actually doing really well so I'll give Y a pass". There's nothing that really speaks out and says "hey, give us a little break because we put our effort here".

The season opener seems to have gotten everyone hook line and sinker, and whether they just put their effort into the start or they calculated it and wanted to reel people in for the season I have no idea. But I do know that even for anime onlies this is is not 9+ territory. The story can only carry so far, and on such an expected episode there's no justification for it. There's chances ahead for Doga Kobo to come out swinging, but any attempt to establish dominance over how "quality" this adaptation is going to be has gone out of the window. I'll probably end up watching it still since Wednesdays are rather empty for me, but between what amounts to now 4 or even 5 episodes worth of content, they really don't give me a reason to engage with the anime over the manga.

[notsosilentsister]

If it's not an imposition I'd be really interested to hear about your other favourite authors? I found Hilary Mantel (and possibly a few others?) through your Tumblr + I know you have great taste

Oh wow, thanks! I'm still recovering from my surgery, and today the pain killers seem to work a bit less well than yesterday, so I can really use some cheering up!

My current favourites, in no particular order:

Susanna Clarke. Is there anything she can't do? Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell was such a doorstopper, and Piranesi is the height of narrative economy. I'm still utterly enchanted. It's a hymn to scientific inquiry without ever playing it out against myth, art, faith and ritual, a sort of Anti-Robinsonade - here too, we have someone torn out of his own world, having to survive in strange surroundings, entirely left to their own devices, but while Robinson aims to conquer, Piranesi just wants to understand/connect. One of the most likeable protagonists I've encountered in all of literature in quite a while. And the vibes are impeccable. I think Susanna Clarke is always so good at setting the scene, she has a knack for killer imagery, and always hits the right note with the prose style. It's never just style for its own sake, it's always in service of getting you in the right frame of mind for the story.

Lucia Berlin. Wrote mostly short stories with an autobiographical bent. And what a life she had! Very adventurous, upwardly and downwardly socially and geographically mobile, a true bohemian. Reading Lucia Berlin always makes me feel like I need to travel more (definitely) and get some divorces (a bit). (What it actually made me do, was go back into teaching. Lucia Berlin had a lot of jobs - one of her short story collections is called A Manual for Cleaning Women, and one of those jobs was teaching). Her life was often hard (traumatic childhood, dysfunctional parents, sexual assaults, addiction, health problems…), at times brutal - I mean, one thing reading her definitely didn't inspire in me is any curiosity about drugs - at times glamorous and exhilarating, sure, but the lows are very low. She has so many awful encounters and yet never closes herself off to connection, completely clear-eyed about the pain it might bring. Even when she takes you to the depths of despair, she never numbs to her surroundings; she has an eye for the beauty in hell.

Shirly Jackson. I'm not usually a great reader of horror, but I will always make an exception for Shirly Jackson. Another great one for narrative economy. Maximal emotional punch for minimal word count. Great at exposing the blood curdling menace in convention. Honestly, I don't think I could stand it, if I had more of an inclination towards social anxiety, but even so, I think she'll hit anyone who's ever ended up on the wrong side of a group dynamic, and who hasn't? At times deceptively charming, delightfully excentric, cosily conventional, strangely seductive, to better set you up for betrayal, guaranteed to haunt you, long after you've closed the book.

Marlen Haushofer. Maybe I am a bit of a reader of horror after all? It's a fairly similar sort of horror too - the slow poison of corruption through civilization - but usually without explicit supernatural elements (the exception being The Wall, probably her most famous novel anyway). I discovered her as a kid - she also wrote quite a bit for children - and then got majorily back into her during the lockdowns, when she seemed to me like the writer of the hour. I wrote about that at some length here.

Jennifer Egan. She always does something that interests me. Maybe it's a bit of formal metafictional playfulness - I thought the powerpoint chapter in A Visit from the Goon Squad was actually the most moving chapter, definitely not just a gimmick to me (but maybe the sibling dynamic just hits a button for me) - maybe it's just her choice of topic. Look at Me is a downright visionary novel about the rise of influencers on social media, written before Facebook and Insta and the costs and benefits of erotic capital, something which I of course would only know from books and therefore find reasonably fascinating (also a bit about terrorism, written before 9/11, but I found that sublot less compelling); Manhattan Beach is about the first female diver at the Brooklyn Naval Ward, getting drawin into the New York demi-monde while investigating the disappearance of her father during World War II. She's sometimes criticized for writing a bit too much with an eye to effect (the metafictional stuff can be read as pretentious; Manhattan Beach is going for Grande Cinema), but I like that about her. I think you can alway count on Jennifer Egan to find an illuminating angle.

George Eliot. I usually don't have strong opinions about shipping, but "Dorothea/ Ladislaw OTP" is one of the topics I could improvise an hour-long lecture on at the slightest provocation. It's also why I have eternal beef with Henry James, who apparently went on record claiming that Middlemarch would have been a better novel if Dorothea had ended up with Lydgate. (Can you imagine? How hard can anyone miss the point? Might as well say Peggy should have ended up with Don.) I also don't usally worry much about spoilers, because I'm not generally in it for the plot twists. But George Eliot is a case where I really make a point of going in unspoilt. I think she's just the best at leading her characters towards genuinely difficult choices, and even if it's quite clear, what the right choice would be, making you quite unsure if the character can make it, or if it came to that, if you could. My one quibble with her is that I think she has a very weird idea of what makes one suited for a career in politics, but maybe I'm just too jaded.

George R.R. Martin. This started out as an ASOIAF-fanblog; it would be weird not to mention him. It's also a bit weird to mention him though - there was a period in my life when I was positively obsessed with ASOIAF, true, but I feel zero inclination to read anything else by George R.R. Martin. Not because he's a bad writer or because I resent him for not finishing the series - I clearly think he's highly skilled; I could not put up with subpar prose over so many pages, and I can live with unfinished work - it's just not usually my genre, and I feel that the special circumstance that contributed to my ASOIAF-obsession cannot be repeated. First, the series got some hype when there was talk of a TV-show, and I actually sometimes like jumping on a bandwagon. I just rarely do, because they're usually not my speed. But this one turned out to be, and I was excited at an opportunity to join the water-cooler conversation. And then I kinda got in too deep, because I was just working on my second thesis, and was desperately procrastinating. This probably sounds like me being overly defensive. It's hard nowadays not to feel a bit like a sucker as an ASOIAF-fan. We know there's not much of a chance Martin will ever finish the series, and we know how the show turned out. No one has much sympathy for the disappointment - the general tenor seems to be: What did you expect? It was always this stupid. I agree that there's much I dislike about the show that's actually already there in the novels (eg. gratituous sexual violence, half-heartedly rationalized by the pseudo-historicity) and I won't defend that.

But let me go on record here, I really don't think it was always this stupid. It had interesting things to say about chivalry, honor, different leadership styles, forms of social organisation, family dysfunction, dealing with trauma, propaganda, the power of narratives, institutional failure, collective action, risk management, the cost of lies. It had multi-dimensional, psychologically plausible, dynamic characters. It had tons of forshadowing, and carefully constructed set-ups, and well-executed pay-offs. It had the most shocking twists, that still felt inevitable. And I think Martin has a really good ear for dialogue - eg. he has more than one way to make a character sound witty (something writers of witty characters often seem to struggle with; everyone just ends up the same kind of snarky, which quickly grates on me) - eg.Tyrion's wit is different from Olennas, and even Stannis has a blink-and-you-miss it dry sort of wit. Martin also has that Dickensian knack for distinguishing characters through speech patterns and catch phrases, which is a bit gimmicky, but hey, it works. And you need all the tricks at your disposal with such a huge cast. He was (maybe intermittently still is) trying to do something very ambitious, and I will always admire him for that, even if he likely never pulls it off.

[writer-ish]

φόβος, or the persistence of fear

prompt: to shower with my muse / for sex on a table/counter/desk / for our muses to try a new position + words: “make me” pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 5.3k words | rating: super E!!! (minors dni) summary: φόβος (FO-vos) Greek. “fear”. Post-Book 3 Final Demo, Mason and Grace have some trouble overcoming their individual fears.

author note: i know you said “or”, lovely @detective-sweetheart , but to my eyes you were issuing a challenge as to whether or not i could do them ALL. i didn’t quite succeed, but hopefully it doesn’t disappoint. 😘 and, uh… *side-eyes the word count* ...yeah. really should get that ao3 account up and running huh?

warning: this smutty lil fic immediately follows the end of the final demo for book 3 (bobby route) so if you don't want any inkling of what that's all about, stay away.

XX nsfw prompts

X X X X

Saying that it had been “one of those days” would not only be an insult to days but to the concept of singularity itself.

By the time they roll into the warehouse, it's just after nine-thirty in the evening. The sun has already dipped beyond the horizon almost entirely, but there remains an eerie summer glow of light that seems to permeate the atmosphere. Not quite day, not quite night, but instead some liminal moment that feels almost otherworldly. Familiar, yet not.

Grace shivers.

Mason, sitting beside her in the roomy black SUV, turns towards her as the almost-imperceptible tremor runs through her body.

She meets his gaze, taking in his expression – tight and concerned, the grey of his irises stormy and conflicted – before she feels his hand reach across her lap and cup her outer thigh, tugging her closer to him.

They wait in silence as Adam parks and the rest of Unit Bravo gets out, Felix patting her leg reassuringly from beside her before exiting on his side. Mason gets out as well and turns to her, hands now shoved deep in the pockets of his leather jacket.

It's Grace's turn, so she gingerly exits, the weight of the day finally revealing the toll it's taken on her body. The fifteen minutes of inactivity in the car were, apparently, all it had needed as a reminder of what she'd endured in the last sixteen hours or so. All of a sudden she feels exhausted, weighted down, frustrated, and in desperate need of a shower.

"You good?" Mason asks as they walk together towards the entrance of the warehouse, shoulders brushing, a bit behind the others.

"Just tired," she responds, rubbing her eyes wearily. "Can't wait to shower and just lie down."

"Need any help with that?" The drawled reply is rife with a familiar irreverence, but there is something heavier in his tone that makes Grace glance up.

He's looking down at her, telltale smirk on his lips. But his grey eyes are dim and there's a furrow between his brows that isn't normally there.

"Yes."

Her quick response seems to surprise him; he stops walking and turns to look at her with an inscrutable expression. She can understand why—she isn't normally so brazen when it comes to his advances and she knows he revels in her shyness sometimes. Mastering the art of getting a rise out of her, making her flustered, teasing her and watching her blush.

But this time she doesn't care if her response feels bold or unlike her. Since dawn that morning, the litany of things she'd experienced were enough emotional and physical turmoil to last a person a lifetime, never mind a period that's comprised of less than twenty-four hours.

And now she wants Mason and she wants a shower and she wants to sleep. In whatever order she can have them.

Instead of saying anything flirtatious or sarcastic, he lets his eyes roam over her face for a moment and then he just nods and drapes an arm over her shoulders, leading her inside.

Upon entering the Warehouse, they’re greeted by Adam, Nate, and Felix, who appear to have been waiting for them. All three agents turn when they see Mason and Grace walking in, and Grace feels a pang of guilt, knowing that Adam will probably want to coordinate a meeting of some sort to go over the events of the day as well as next steps.

Sure enough, he intercepts them as they attempt to walk by.

“We should be debriefing on everything that just occurred." Adam crosses his arms and peers down at Grace. "And Detective, have you gotten a hold of Agent Bennett? I can’t seem to—“

Grace opens her mouth to reply, and perhaps Mason can feel the way her body leans away from him, already attempting to gear herself up for the meeting Adam has planned for them all, because he tugs her closer and begins dragging her away, speaking over her before she has a chance to respond.

“The Detective,” he announces, forcing her to keep pace with him, “is currently unavailable."

She can feel Adam's disapproval radiating at her back and she looks up at Mason helplessly.

"Stop," he commands her, then says over his shoulder: "She's had a rough day, okay? We'll meet in the morning."

Adam grumbles his reluctant acquiescence and Felix shouts after them: "Don't forget how thin the walls are!"

Nate splutters, as Mason throws back: "They're concrete!"

Nate’s splutters turn into a groan as Felix responds: "With you two it doesn't seem to make a difference."

Grace groans as well, feeling the heat surge up into her cheeks as she buries her face in her hands. Mason just laughs and continues to drag her along.

As soon as she gets to her room, she lets him in and then closes the door firmly behind them, leaning on it heavily with a deep sigh.

Mason is already walking around the small room, inspecting the current aesthetic. When the room had been set up for her, cues had apparently been taken from her own apartment. So there’s a vibe that can definitely be considered “cozy”, like her style – long white curtains, a plethora of pillows, a down comforter – while also being weirdly unfamiliar. It’s like a Sims version of her own place in some Bizarro universe. She isn’t sure if it makes her feel more at home—or less.

“What did you bring from your place?” His voice breaks her out of her reverie and she looks at him in surprise.

“Oh, uh—” Taking a look around, her brow furrows. “Honestly, not much. After what happened this morning, I didn’t have the wherewithal to grab anything that I really needed. Thank god there’s some stuff here. But I’m going to have to go back tomorrow and sift through the damage. See what can be salvaged.” She shrugs, then to her horror, she can feel her eyes inadvertently well with tears.

“Hey, hey—” Mason is in front of her before she can blink, tilting her chin up. “What’s that for?”

“Ugh, just—” She rubs her eyes frustratedly. “What a fucking day.”

“Yeah, you’ve been through it,” he agrees, before roughly pulling her into his arms. “One for the record books.”

His arms around her provide more comfort than he could probably ever understand and she feels her whole body wilt into his strength and his heat and his scent.

“I’m so sick of days ‘for the record books’,” she mumbles into his chest and she can feel his chuckle more than she hears it.

“Why don’t we see if we can make this one a bit better, hmm?” She looks up just in time for him to capture her lips with his.

Letting out a little sigh, she twines her arms around his neck and allows him to kiss her slowly, leisurely, taking little sips from her mouth, stroking her tongue with his own, stoking a slow fire that always seems to be maintaining a low burn in his presence. She presses her body closer, enjoying the feel of her breasts against his torso, his growing hardness pressing into her stomach.

He glides his hands down her back and cups her bottom, squeezing it appreciatively, before pulling her even closer still.

Moving his mouth to her neck, his teeth glide against her pulse point, and her heart skips a little beat when she feels the sharpness of his canines against her sensitive skin.

“Relax,” he whispers, kissing her softly right in the place where his teeth had just scraped. “This isn’t where I want to taste you.”

She lets out a little whimper and brings his mouth back to hers, kissing him fiercely, feeling the points and ridges of his teeth with her tongue crowding his mouth. He pulls her tightly to him, dragging her body up so her feet leave the ground, and then he drops her backwards on the bed, his knee already down on the mattress with her, poised to pounce.

“No—” she protests and before she can blink he’s off of her and standing at the edge of the bed.

“What is it?” His voice is calm, with none of the frustration she would assume he’d be feeling in that moment.

“No, it’s just—” She pauses and glances at the door to the ensuite bathroom, teeth digging into her bottom lip. “I really need a shower, before any… tasting happens.”

He blinks and then in a flash he’s on her again, his body pressing her deep into the soft mattress.

“For what it’s worth, sweetheart,” he says, nipping at her lips, “I’ll taste you whenever, however.”

“Reassuring,” she laughs, “but trust me when I say a shower is needed.”

“Then let’s get you wet.” She laughs again with a groan, allowing him to hoist her up.

He tugs at her shirt and she raises her arms accommodatingly, allowing him to lift it up and over her head. Piece by piece, he undresses her, hands grazing her skin with each article he removes, discarding the item as quickly as it comes off her body, until she stands in front of him fully nude.

Self-consciousness at her nudity is a forgotten pastime now that she’s with Mason. It’s something about the way he looks at her —he’s always just so pleased. With her or with himself she can’t tell, but either way it does wonders for one’s self esteem.

Even now, she can almost feel the heat emanating off of him, a hungry smoulder of pure energy as his eyes roam up and down her body.

“Shower,” she squeaks, not sure who needs the reminder more.

Instead of answering, he lifts her up effortlessly, dragging her thighs around him until she can cross her ankles behind his back. She feels the fabric of his clothing rubbing every inch of bare skin it encounters – the leather of his jacket against her nipples, his jeans between her legs – and he settles her onto a dresser that she literally hadn’t even noticed before that moment.

Her breathing escalates in anticipation and yearning, waiting for wherever his mouth or his tongue or his teeth go next, but instead he remains quiet and still, before leaning forward and resting his forehead on her shoulder.

She freezes, unsure what he wants or even what she should do. And then she feels it.

A light tremor, scarcely noticeable, running through his body.

Before she can react, his arms tighten around her in a crushing hug and she instinctively hugs him back fiercely, running her hands up and down his back, pulling him closer with her legs.

“Mason,” she whispers. “What—?”

With a growl, he lifts his head and captures her mouth with his own, teeth and tongues clashing in a hungry, desperate kiss. His fingers tangle in her hair as his thumbs caress her cheekbones in a juxtaposition of rough and gentle.

She kisses him back, trying to keep up with the shift in his mood. Pulling away with a gasp, she attempts to catch his eye.

“Are you—?”

Groaning, he leans in and kisses her again, hands running over her body in frantic strokes, as though memorizing the shape of her with his palms.

When he lifts his head again, she sees the conflict in his narrowed gaze, the grey irises stormy with anger and desire and another, less discernible emotion that causes gooseflesh to rise on her bare skin.

“Just look at you.” His voice is harsh, almost angry, and her jaw slackens in surprise at his tone. He tilts away from her as he speaks and she registers the absence acutely as cool air hits bare skin that now feels on display, her legs still spread open around him.

Shyness overcomes her as she becomes truly conscious of her nudity for the first time. She makes to close her legs and he grips them tighter around his hips so she can’t move them, his eyes flicking between hers, seeking answers and absolution.

“You’re so soft, so small,” he continues, his voice still rough with shades of anger, even as his words feel hollow and almost somehow reminiscent of—grief? “This skin, this body you’re in—it’s so weak.”

“Mason!” She finds her voice finally, confusion and indignation at war with one another in her mind as she tries to coincide his expression – which can only be described as tortured – with the hurtful things he’s saying.

“How can we let you go back out there?” His voice is raw now, the anger appearing to slowly fade away, leaving him worn-out and desperate in its wake. “Unprotected? Out in the open for any fucker to grab, to take. To hurt?” He gives her a little shake and she gasps. “Huh? How?”

Understanding dawns. Yes, it had been a rough day for her. One of the worst.

But it looks as though, maybe, it had been a rough day for him, too.

Immediately, her hands begin to move of their own volition, running up his chest and over his shoulders. His whole body seems to sag, the fight draining out of him completely, and he closes his eyes, turning his head away from her.

“I have the Agency,” she murmurs as she tries to soothe him with her touch, her tone, her words. She tucks her hands under his jacket and pushes it off until it drops on the floor. Smoothing her hands back up his arms, she doesn’t stop until they cup his face. “I have them to protect me.”

She turns his head and waits until he opens his eyes, his gaze still narrowed, but with a telltale furrow in his brow.

“And I have you,” she adds, softly. “To protect me.” She pauses, watching the creases in his forehead smooth even as his eyes drift away from hers once more. “I’ll be okay.”

He reminds her now of a beast being soothed; a wolf, perhaps—hackles still up, but with the understanding that the threat has passed, for the time being, at least.

She knows not to look too much into it; loyalty is intrinsic to Mason’s being. His defence of her would be his defence of any of them.

But she kisses his brow anyway, just in case. His cheek, too, even as he stiffens in her arms.

“I’ll be okay,” she repeats, “unless I don’t get a shower in the next thirty seconds.”

His expression shifts back to a familiar one: arched brow, lips curled up on one side, white teeth showing one sharp canine. He seems almost relieved, though at what she’s not sure – the reprieve? Her unspoken forgiveness? Her assurance?

Regardless, she knows she won’t get the answers she seeks and, sure enough, he says nothing, only lifts her back into his arms and carts her off to the bathroom.

She can’t help but laugh against his neck, although her heart still thumps an erratic beat at the odd moment they’d just had.

Depositing her by the sink, he peels off his shirt, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor as he reaches inside the shower to turn on the water. He then strips out of his pants and underwear just as quickly, appearing more comfortable in his nudity than he is clothed—a fact that she’s come to realize is true.

She can’t help but take him in, flawless and muscular, a constellation of freckles across his upper body and arms. Unruly onyx waves tumble towards his shoulders and her fingers itch to run through them. His chest is covered in short, curling hairs that stretch across his pectorals and down, over his defined stomach and even further still. His prominent erection is unselfconsciously on display, flushed and waiting, apparently, for her.

Feeling the colour rise in her cheeks as she stares, she hazards a glance back up to his face.

He’s regarding her quietly, a growing smile on his lips, his gaze half-lidded and pleased.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

“Always,” she responds before she can lose her nerve, her face heating even more.

He chuckles softly, taking a step towards her, stroking his knuckles down her cheek. “The feeling is mutual.” He nods towards the running water. “Feel that and tell me if it’s okay.”

Hopping off the counter, she reaches her hand in. The water is scalding and she hisses out a breath, before adjusting it slightly cooler. She waits a beat until it runs at a suitable temperature on her palm and wrist. “That’s good for me. You?”

She finds herself craning her neck to look up at him. He’s standing tall in front of her, looking down without really tilting his chin. He has a half smile on his face as he watches her and she feels herself redden again under his gaze.

“I’ll be fine,” he says eventually, before crowding her until she has no choice but to take a step in.

Entering the shower fully, she allows the water to run down her back, tilting her head to wet her hair. He follows her in and runs his fingers softly down her chest, snagging on her nipples, already distended and aching.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, tracing over her lightly with his fingertips, playing and stroking. One finger circling a nipple before going down further until it grazes between her legs.

She bites back a moan as her eyes shut briefly, her palms pressing back against the cool tile of the shower for some sort of purchase.

He loops an arm around her waist and brings her to him, kissing her wetly, open-mouthed and demanding, their bare skin slipping against one another.

Swiftly, he turns her, pressing himself into the cleft of her ass. She can feel his hardness wedged deeply between her; a new sensation, but not entirely unpleasant, either. She wriggles experimentally and gasps at the titillating pressure.

“One day,” he murmurs in her ear, reading her mind, and she knows from the way he chuckles that her cheeks have gone truly red this time.

He strokes down her forearms, linking his fingers overtop hers before pressing them onto the tile so that her body is forced to tilt forward slightly. Then, he adjusts the spray of the water so it’s not hitting them directly.

“Open.” His voice is a gruff command and she can’t help but obey, her feet slipping slightly in her haste to spread her legs.

She feels his hand course over her wet skin, erection still pressed against her bottom, as his fingers move across her, teasing and playing, until they settle into the warm, liquid centre of her.

She lets out a protracted moan, her legs shaking, the relief of finally having him touch her right where she needs him to almost more than she can bear.

He strokes her masterfully, a finger delving into the wetness her body is producing just for him, for his touch, and then circling at the apex of her thighs. Her clit throbs with his attention and she can’t help but cry out as he applies steady continuous pressure. The shaking in her legs increases and his body presses against her even tighter, his other hand coming up to cup her breast, thumb strumming her nipple at the same pace as his other finger works her clit.

“I want you to come,” his voice grinds out next to her ear. “I want you to come all over my hand. I can already feel you dripping all over me, all over yourself. Let go, sweetheart.” He bites her neck lightly and she feels the sharp prick of his fangs on her sensitive flesh. “Let go.”

The pain and pleasure intertwine into a blinding flash of white light, her body convulsing as she cries out, her shout echoing throughout the small room. Her legs give way and he holds her steady against him, his arm the only barrier between her and the tiles.

She comes down slowly from her climax, her shaky breath echoing around them, trembling fingers still scrabbling for purchase on the wet tiled walls of the shower.

Before she can fully catch her breath, he turns her around wordlessly and crushes his mouth to hers again. She matches his fervour, opening her mouth and allowing him to consume her. Their kisses feel hungry, desperate, and she whimpers against his lips. Tightening his hold, he lifts her up into his arms, pressing her against the cool tiles. She can feel his hands splayed across her back, cushioning the impact, and she tightens her legs to draw him closer.

His erection is notched between her legs, stroking hotly up and down the teeming wetness there, both from the shower streaming between them and also, she knows, from her own body’s response to him, his nearness, and the promise of what’s to come.

She reaches between them and grips him, running her hand up and down his length as he tilts his head back and groans.

“Jesus, Gracie,” he bites off, and she can feel his fingers digging into her where they rest on her upper and lower back. “You gotta stop that, sweetheart, before I—”

“Make me,” she teases, revelling in these small, rare moments where she has the upper hand.

His head snaps up and she feels her heart skip a beat at the expression on his face, those silvery irises as thin as crescent moons against the deep black of his dilated pupils. His lips curl in a familiar smirk as he bounces her up higher in his arms. Laughing in surprise, she loses her grip on him and has to put her arms around his neck instead for balance.

At the new height he has her, she can feel the tip of his cock nudging into her liquid centre.

She lets out a breath that extends into a moan, feeling him enter her as she opens for him further. He holds her steady, hands cupping her ass as he guides her down, then back up, then down again, allowing her body time to accommodate him comfortably.

“Oh,” she whimpers, the sensation almost too much for her to bear. “I can’t—I’ve never—”

“Shhh.” He shifts and one hand goes to the back of her neck, drawing her head down his shoulder, while his other arm grips her around her hips. “I got you.”

Slowly, slowly he thrusts and pulls back, thrusts and pulls back, shallow and fluid movements, her body giving and giving some more, until he holds her tightly against him, their pelvises notched together, him fully seated within her.

There is never a moment in which she feels so vulnerable as the moment when they’re connected like this. Her body trembles with emotion, the full weight of the day finally crashing down on her. She tightens her thighs against his hips and her arms around his neck, tilting her head to kiss his wet, freckled shoulder, neck and jaw, happy that the steady stream of water from the showerhead prevents him from noticing the tears streaking down her cheeks.

She can’t do this right now, she can’t allow herself to succumb to this moment, these feelings, because if she does, she’s going to say something she regrets. Something that will ruin everything.

So she distracts herself with the physicality of what they’re doing and with the pressing need for release.

“Move,” she begs with a sob that hopefully he believes is impassioned rather than emotional. She rocks her hips against him, needing the moment to end just as much as she needs it to last forever.

He quickly and silently obeys, using her body to create a rhythm that matches his own, crowding her against the corner of the shower, holding her securely in his arms. She can feel his heart pounding against her body and without thinking, she digs her teeth into the soft skin where his neck meets shoulder, not hard enough to draw blood but certainly enough to leave a mark.

The sudden action, fierce and uncharacteristic of her, almost possessive in its intensity, clearly surprises him. His hips stutter against hers and his hands grip her tightly—so tightly that she knows she’ll be seeing the bruises in the morning. He lets out a hoarse shout and she can feel his release inside her and that’s all it takes to send her hurtling over the edge with him. Letting out a cry that matches his, she rides the wave of her own climax, her body holding tightly to his, inside and out.

They stay like that for a beat, hearts pounding, Grace’s breath echoing shakily against the tiles. Gently, Mason disentangles her from him and sets her down, still holding her against him firmly. He strokes her back until she can get her breathing and pulse under control.

Once she’s steady, he pulls away from her. She inadvertently lets out a whimper as the water, now lukewarm, causes goosebumps to rise on her skin, the heat from his body too tempting to be taken from her. She has no reason to be concerned, however, because he’s back on her almost immediately, this time with a soft, soapy cloth in his hand that he begins to wash with her with.

Long, languid strokes down her back, her arms, the backs of her legs. Gently between her legs as he washes away the intermingled essence of what they’ve just done, rinsing and rewashing, in light, soft strokes.

She allows him his ministrations, feeling sleepier and more languorous by the moment, enjoying the feel of him caring for her. She registers that the soap has a light scent, inoffensive to her own nostrils, but she can’t help but wonder if it bothers him.

Reaching up lazily, with an arm that feels sluggish and heavier than usual, she brushes the damp hair back from his forehead.

“The soap—?” she tries, taking the wash cloth from him and allowing it to drop between them. She steps back slightly and rinses herself with the water streaming down.

“It’s fine.” He shrugs. “I can only smell you.”

“Me—?” She realizes belatedly he means her arousal, and the evidence of their union, and her face flares up with heat once more. His smirk turns into a full fledged grin.

“Oh, sweetheart, if I could make you blush like that forever, I’d be one lucky son of a bitch.”

The word forever seems to hang between them and the smile drops quickly from his face at her sharp intake of breath.

“Turn around,” he says gruffly and she obeys quickly, reluctant to allow the moment to be shattered completely.

She hears the sound of another liquid dispenser and the telltale coconut scent of her favourite shampoo fills the humid space – when the Agency does something, they really do it right, she thinks, impressed and a little weirded out – before she feels Mason’s hands in her hair.

If she’d expected impatience or roughness from him in this endeavour, she’s pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong. For all his brusqueness and usual lack of desire to perform acts of service for others – outside those related to sexual pleasure – he takes his time with her hair, leisurely massaging in the shampoo, fingertips expertly pressing into her scalp and lathering the wet strands.

She tilts her head back and closes her eyes, a hum of pleasure escaping her lips. The warm water streams over her body and she’s convinced she’d be able to fall asleep standing if she let herself.

After a few more moments of quiet bliss, Mason places his hands on her shoulders and turns her back around. He gently tilts her chin up until the water is streaming over her hair now and she brings her own hands up to assist in rinsing out all the shampoo.

As she gets the shampoo out of her hair, his hands idly tease and caress her, his fingers running over her body once more in light strokes. The touch doesn’t seem to be intended to reignite anything; instead, it appears to be for the simple pleasure of just touching her.

They’re both quiet, the need or the desire to speak seemingly sapped out of them, and she allows him his touches, until all the soap is out of her hair and off her body. Then, she languidly opens her eyes and just watches him—watches how his eyes follow his hands as they move over her body, tracing her with his gaze as well as his fingers.

“Your turn?” she asks, finally, her voice a quiet echo in the small space.

He shakes his head and gathers her close to him, kissing her soundly on the mouth. “I’m good. Ready to come out?”

Instead of answering, she wraps her arms around his neck, stroking down his back and into his damp hair, the unruly waves curling around her fingers more than usual. She kisses him again, then nods against his lips, her eyes dropping closed of their own volition.

The rest is a blur. She feels him towel her off, remaining completely boneless the entire time and succumbing to his ministrations with nary a physical protest. He must dry himself as well, but who knows, because next thing she feels is him carrying her to her bed. She snuggles even more securely into his arms and she can swear she registers his lips against her forehead.

When he settles her on top of the covers she doesn’t even bother to do anything except burrow herself underneath them, still naked, hair frizzing and damp.

Her eyes are still closed, but she knows he hasn’t left, can feel him like a physical ache. Hovering but not touching or sitting. She doesn’t know if he’s in the process of dressing or stark naked. Doesn’t know if his intent is to stay or to go.

The need to keep her feelings inside, to not...ruin things, or push him away, is so, so strong. She could ask him to stay and he could go anyway, taking her heart with him. She could stay silent and wait for him to make his own decision, knowing the outcome would likely be the same.

As she wars with herself, feeling time ticking past, feeling him slowly slipping away, an image arises in her mind unbidden.

It’s his eyes.

She thinks of how they’d looked that morning, clouded with worry and not a hint of lasciviousness, even though she knew she’d been about ninety-nine percent see-through as she’d squelched up the drive.

How they’d looked when he’d apologized to her for his harsh words at Haley’s the other day, contrite and a little bit confused.

The way they’d held anger and, more than that, hurt when Bobby had spoken about kissing her.

And then she thinks about the look she’d seen in them as they’d all been overrun by Trappers and, immediately afterwards, as she had faced certain kidnapping by a supernatural he knew he could not defend her from.

He’d been terrified.

Those storm-grey irises, so familiar and already so dear, had been filled with abject terror and fear.

Fear for her.

The images fade as she hears him rustling, collecting his things.

She thinks again about how he’d been scared for her. Scared of losing her.

She’s scared, too.

She’s scared that all of this might be for naught. That she’ll fall deeper and deeper in love and he’ll soon be looking for a way out.

But tonight isn’t for fears, she decides. Tonight, they’re safe. Tonight, they’re together.

Tonight, he's hers.

“Mason?” Her eyes remain closed, but she hears his movements stop. She lets out a shaky breath, releasing the final bit of her trepidation, before speaking with conviction:

“I want you to stay.”

X X X X

👀 tags: @utterlyinevitable , @ethansramsey , @otherworldlypresents , @worldoffandoms , @raleighcarrera , @ejunkiet , @starrystarrytrouble , @terrm9 , @openheartthot , @octobereighth , @campsearchlight , @coldshrugs , @kelseaaa , @homeformyheart , @intothestrawberryjar , @magebastard , @kodysteach , @newfangledsoul , @silma-words , @lalizah , @detective-sweetheart , @lem-20 , @ifshebreathes-shesathot , @takemyopenheart , @v2itbwstct (if you want to be added/no longer want to be tagged, pls let me know!)

[fanfiction-funtime]

Self insert oc: Alexander Vodka

AKA: Eis Cay'zar

Author of fate

A writer from Schneznaya who was driven from his home for his anti-Tsaritsa paper.

_____________________

Physical description:

A chubby fellow in a 1950's style noir trenchcoat and hat, some would even say he looks like he jumped right out of a noir comic book and into reality. He has brown hair and green eyes, a cowboy mustache, and a pointed beard like some kind of comic book supervillain genius.

He often acts confidently and even a bit egotistical when in places he's recognized and famous in, however in newer places he often seems distant and shys away from almost all contact.

Noone knows where his vision is, but they know he has one because of the cold aura that surrounds him.

At night he'll often trade his outfit for one more reminiscent of demons or vampires.

_____________________

Abilities:

Weapon type: Catalyst

Basic attack-truth: uses his catalyst to shoot a short burst of up to 3 ice shards, can attack in fast succession.

"Truth hurts, especially in bursts"

Charged attack-Bifrost: Alexander quickly makes an ice clone behind the enemy and fires 6 shots, this can increase to 3 clones if charged enough(times: 1 for 1 second, 2 for 2 seconds, and 3 for 2.5 seconds)

"I hate crowds, best company has always been myself"

Elemental ability-ice wall: creates an aura of sheer cold around himself that will damage enemies the more they stay in it, and apply the normal sheer cold to them. Does not affect party.

"My therapist said I put up walls because of trauma, but I couldn't hear them through the wall I had just built"

Elemental burst-a story to be told: Alexander takes out his book and opens to a random page, then randomly summons ice sculptures of one of 8 beings:

"Aster": this summon looks like the flatwoods monster, it surrounds the party in a swirl of ice blades that deal 2X damage as the character for 10 seconds.

"Who needs brawn, when you got brain"

"Ultimate foe": a demonic, pointy being of shadow. Will independently deal 25000 damage to three random foes.

"Meet my penultimate friend"

"Beethoven": a sculpture reminiscent of a ww1 zombie general, calls down a barrage of ice bombs that deal 5000 damage to enemies hit for 7 seconds.

"Good scifi doesn't predict, it prevents"

"Sorrows Joy": an angelic, faceless, robot like humanoid that spawns 25 angel shaped traps that freeze enemies around the character.

"With any luck, you're the only real one I've made"

"Death rider and the magic prince": two statues, one of a mummy like Schneznayan mystic of ancient barbarian times and the other an elven cavalry knight from the myths of mondstadt. The knight gives the party a 45% boost to speed and attack while moving, and the Schneznayan gives +10% damage bonus to elemental skills and +55% damage bonus to Catalyst.

"Feel the wrath of honor long passed"

"Zero point and Lion queen": a knightly man of spiked armor and a golden ottoman warrior woman whose golden chain completely obscures her head. Your enemies become inflicted with pyro and you are surrounded by thorn bushes that deal continuous damage of 1000 for 10 seconds.

"Walk down the way on a moonlit day"

The traveler: a child in a red straight jacket, his binds become undone after 4 seconds at which point all enemies take 10,000 X Alexander's level of damage.

"I uh,wont have to pay any copyrights will I?"

"Giota": a child in pyjamas who looks ready to sleep, this summon is very rare. It fully restores all party members and gives a 200% boost to both defense and damage of your characters.

"This fella's been with me since I was a kid"

"If it is a soldier's duty to escape the confines of a prison, is it not every person's duty to escape reality if even for a moment? A wise man said that, pray that I may one day be like him."

Passive-part the wasteland: Alexander is immune to sheer elements, and Grant's 50% resistance when in the party to all members.

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Story

Abandoning a dream

As a kid, Alexander was always put down when he said he wanted to write fiction, "there's no money in it" they all said.

He couldn't get into any art schools without support so he focused his mind elsewhere, a place he could hopefully use his writing to do just as much good: the first newspaper in Schneznaya.

Horrible truth

He didn't start as a trouble maker, but the more he sought out the truth the more he couldn't stand back and watch. He published numerous papers about the Tsarista's wrongdoings and the crimes of the fatui, how they would harass merchants in other nations, the unfair taxes many shipping businesses had to keep quiet about, all the way up to the war crimes the Tsarista had done in direct contradiction to her own laws.

Sadly, not many believed him even with evidence, but some got his message.

Those who fight

One day Alexander was approached by a man who claimed to have formed a resistance against the fatui. Alexander had inspired many people to disrupt the organization, and have even begun working with those outside Schneznaya.

With their help he didn't just publish some crimes, he published them all, he even got information that turned the general public against the fatui even if just a little.

In a way h had achieved his dream of helping others with his writing, even if it wasn't how he wanted.

Stop the presses

When the Tsarista started her big move of taking gnosis, she brought the hammer down on dissent like a boulder on a ten year old's wrist. One day a squad of thirty fatui stormed Alexander's home and business to silence him, and while they shut down his business they couldn't catch him.

Alexander fled into the wastelands of ice and snow and wasn't seen for several weeks.

Deus ex Vodka

One day Alexander showed up in Inazuma, a nation that had been oppressed for some time now and had recently reached it's height, yet no resistance had formed.

That was until Alexander came along.

Alexander published numerous books, spreading them throughout Inazuma. All of them spoke of freedom, of bravery, of rising up to achieve your ambitions.

And with those stories he inspired countless to take up arms, and in turn inspired countless to join the resistance.

And with mere fiction he had brought about hope,

And with mere fiction he shall do it again, in every form, and in every nation.

Vision: cold hearted

While wondering the waste Alexander fell down and looked to the skies.

He did not ask celestia why, he did not grieve or blame that he did not do more, instead Alexander did something he hadn't done in a long time:

He imagined.

And after he imagined he took out his notebook and wrote. In the freezing cold for seventeen days he wrote stories of hope and freedom.

For seventeen days the cold did not so much as cause him to flinch as he wrote tales of bravery.

For seventeen days Alexander Vodka lived how he wanted to live.

And at the end, he lied down to die.

Then a light shown, and when he opened his eyes to look he saw that the storm parted around him, and in his hand was an ice blue gem.

But Alexander was too paranoid from years of abuse from his peers as a child to wear it loosely, and far to extra to just get a lock. So instead Alexander shouted to celestia "if I shall have this Vision for my art, then it shall not kill me no matter what I do!"

He then shoved the vision into his heart and fell down.

Before he could bleed out however, a woman appeared.

"Hey Tsari, how ya doin." Alexander said as blood poured out his mouth.

"You dramatic fool," the Tsarista sighed as she put a hand on his chest, "you have my element, do you know how bad it'll look for me if you die by shoving your vision into your heart?"

"Why do you care? We hate eachother, in case you forgot."

The archon sighed, "you're just rebelling against what you see as unjust, just as I am. To be honest I feel a sort of rivalry with you, so it'd be a shame if you just died. Also," she painfully shoved the vision all the way in, painfully, "if your going to die it better be because of me, got it?"

Then Alexander sat up, and the god was gone. Along with the hole in his chest.

"Rival of a god eh?" He sat up, putting his gat back on his head, "I like the sound of that."

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How is this an insert?

Well his story can't be the exact same as mine, so I took my life and goals and made predictions, then fictionalized those predictions and expanded.

His appearance is pretty close to how I'll likely look based on my current appearance, and his dramatic attitude is exactly how I wanna act.

Him being shy in new places with strangers is me exactly as I am now really, however I do believe I'd act confidently if I were famous so he does as well.

Him being Catalyst is because I'm not athletic at all, and I figured a dps Catalyst would be cool. His main ability and resistance/immunity to sheer cold is based on how I wrap up in warm blankets when it's cold, and his ultimate is made up of characters I've made.

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Tagging: @genshin-obsessed, @golden-wingseos, @storytravelled, and @love-psxlm