#I understand the complicated and twisty feelings

[twelvedaysinaugust]

Thoughts on the separate dressing rooms? Cause some people are saying it proves H and L shared, but I really think that’s wishful thinking. I think it leans more heavily to say there was a lack of cohesion there at the end and they were pretty much separate before they split.

Did you have any thoughts you wanted to share about the doc?

I haven't watched the premiere in its entirety yet, but I saw that clip and I agree with your assessment. I have no problem thinking 2015 was messy and complicated.

I did see the doc in theaters and it was exactly what I was expecting. I liked it a lot, I don't feel like I learned anything new, and I think it was a nice but carefully curated look at Louis and his life.

I don't really have that much to add that hasn't already been said, but I agree that what wasn't addressed was most interesting. And it did kind of confirm to me that Eleanor was not Louis' romantic partner. If she was, I think she would have been included in the documentary alongside Louis' family and friends. If the breakup supposedly occurred around Christmas as the article said, the editing would have been well underway by that time as the documentary was released three months later. And the concept and vision for the project would have existed from the beginning. So I don't think there was ever a plan to include Eleanor in the documentary.

I will say, for a music documentary, there was not a lot of focus on Louis as an musician. It was really a look at Louis as a person interspersed with some tour footage. That's how it seemed to me. Which is all well and good. We saw clips of the shows (with some of the dates misrepresented) but there wasn't much about Louis' creative process, the logistics of tour, etc. Even in the AFHF documentary we saw those extended clips of him rehearsing with Helene and, if I remember correctly, AOTV seemed less focused on that side of Louis' life. I came away from the theater thinking this documentary was a way for Louis to reclaim the public narrative about his life and I respect that.

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

kira's ongoing narrative in relation to cardassia and post-genocide complication of easy stories -- not, of course, that it was not genocide, but that some people she thought of as enemies were allies, and many people who were a part of the oppressing forces, were later, in turn, the victims of a mass attempted-genocide

and the idea that she, personally, cannot hate every individual cardassian, because she genuinely wants to build and heal and what that looks like, versus many (understandably) traumatised bajorans who are still and will always be at war

it's such a complicated, ongoing, twisty-turny storyline that returns again and again, with dukat, with garak, with ghemor, with damar, with ziyal, with rugal (although he and kira don't really interact, but in terms of the wider complexity of bajoran-cardassian interactions), with marritza (I've forgotten characters I know it -- there's natima as well, although I don't think she and kira interact?)

and then her ongoing narrative related to healing vs punishment vs power with -- yes li nalas and bareil, with winn and opaka (battle lines really is the first realisation I think of kira's needs and ongoing journey), with the people she was in the resistance with, some of whom are trying to create new lives some of whom cannot, ziyal again...

i also wonder about a stitch in time, and the knowledge that cardassia's rich, spiritual life was all but stamped out by a military dictatorship, and how kira would feel about this/whether she would feel a connection with the underground religious space that survived despite it

i think the reason it (mostly, let's not go into the storyline with her mother) works is that it's something her narrative returns to over and over, like a worried tooth, not necessarily in a single straight line, but via individual stories from many directions, with this understanding that she's at the centre of this massive change and she may have to take on a leadership position in order to facilitate and hold together bajoran ideals and culture and history and pain and hope through that, and bit by bit she grows into that role. and in some ways it doesn't come across as conscious, but it builds up slowly like drops accumulating, until there's a picture there

it's so so good, and imo the most complete/successful storyline given to a character in ds9 (I think nog-and-rom as a somewhat more intimate ongoing push-and-pull storyline, and also benjamin sisko on a macro spiritual level have a similar kind of thorough exploration, if different in focus, and also - to an extent - odo). my one big thing with kira's narrative is consistently how they handled ziyal, that is my personal biggest detractor. shocking because -- perhaps with benefit of hindsight, perhaps with a little less sexism idk -- there were so many ways they could have gone with ziyal, it seemed obvious while i was watching, and yet

[misc-obeyme]

I'm curious now. Could you tell us more about your Brainrot over Barbatos "cosmic powers"? Or his time travel abilities?

Do you ever think he's old as time itself? (Google said Time itself is 14 billion years old). I wonder if he's the FIRST demon to exist right after the Demon king.

Anon, are you sure you want to get into this with me? Because when I tell you I've thought about it way too much...

I think there are a lot of possibilities for what the game means when it says that Barbatos has been around since before the Devildom took shape. I think that's what most of us are thinking of when it comes to considering how old he truly is. There's this general idea that the game hints at that Barbatos is far older than anyone and knows a lot about everything. It's implied that he had a younger phase or time of his life when he was less refined and restrained. It hints that there is so much more to his story.

Could there be something actually waiting for us that the devs have considered regarding Barb's history? Possibly. But considering their track record, I'm not sure if we'll ever actually find out what that might be. And if we do, it might be somewhat underwhelming.

That leaves us to speculate what it could be. And I've seen many different takes on it, some I like and some I'm like meh about.

For myself, I have considered multiple possibilities, especially in regards to his powers. What does it mean to be able to manipulate time? To be able to see a vast array of potential timelines? To move through them?

I explore some of this in The Threads That Bind. The curse that MC is hit with causes them to be able to see this sort of in between place where Barbatos can see the streams of different timelines.

But I also explored a slightly different take on it in a drabble where MC asks him if they meet in every timeline.

It's a concept that's so complicated and so twisty that you can write about it in multiple ways and still never fully explore all it could mean.

I tend to go with whatever works best for the scenario I'm writing. In Threads, I kept the ideas consistent with each other, but outside of a longer story like that, I find it fun to see how those powers can work in different ways.

That being said, I generally think about it like there's one main timeline - the one he's in. And then there are many other timelines and he exists in all of them. For instance, we have Timeline A and Timeline B. Barb A can see Timeline B and Barb B in that timeline and vice versa. They're aware of each other but they exist separately.

However, Barb A can also see the various ways that his own timeline can change. Every choice causes it to branch. So while he can see timelines like Timeline B that start separately from his, he can also see branches from his own timeline. Thus creating something like a Timeline A-1, a branch where a Barb A-1 now exists and makes different choices and changes in ways Barb A does not.

But this can get complicated and kinda brain hurty, so sometimes I just scrap all of that and think about it more in terms of vibes. Or perhaps in a more muddled way, such as the "time soup" description offered up by the game itself.

I like to think that Barbatos understands these complexities in a way that's natural to him. He just has the ability to feel and understand it all by instinct. Maybe he explains some concepts to MC in ways he thinks they'll understand or in ways that make them feel like their own current existence isn't meaningless. But he can never really explain it to them in a way that would allow them to understand it like he does.

I also like the idea that he deliberately shuts off his ability to tell what happens in the future. I mean we know he does this and that he'll only travel through time with Diavolo's permission. (Though really it's more like at Dia's request.) It's just so badass to be able to tell how each decision you make will change the course of your future and decide that you'd rather be surprised.

As for his age, I think it makes sense for him to be as old as time itself. But I do think he could potentially be slightly younger than time. His understanding of it doesn't mean he had to exist for all of it. Or maybe he traveled back to the beginning just to witness it all for himself.

If time is a soup, Barb's age probably is, too.

And I like to think he existed before the first Demon King. I think he's older than the Devildom, therefore older than its ruler.

I think Barb is more powerful than the demon kings ever were, but prefers not to have that particular rank or title. He's more of a working in the shadows type of guy.

But of course these are just my own thoughts. Well this is the tip of the iceberg of my thoughts a;dlkjfasdflj. Ask me next week and I might say something completely different lol!

[perplexingluciddreams]

how did you become aware the trauma was trauma especially when not full remember

- 🍋 (may not be able read when first post this topic s blocked tag

This is a really hard question and I am not sure I really know the answer. I will try my best.

I have had a lot of experiences in my life that I think would be generally considered traumatic. Some are specific one-time events, some are very long term situations that I was trapped in. This includes abuse, but that is not the only thing. And aside from the long-term abuse from one specific person, I was also treated badly by a lot of people, even if I interacted with them only once. It is not necessarily about every single person included in that, but the pattern of bad treatment adds up over time and causes harm. I am a very easy person to mistreat or abuse or hurt, I am very vulnerable - and unfortunately lots of people have taken advantage of that over my lifetime.

I would also say that the lack of communication that I had for a lot of my life is something traumatic to experience in itself, and often lead to me being in situations where it was easy for people to cause me harm. I also think that just being so disabled, so unwell, so limited, so isolated, is a traumatic thing too.

All of my memories are scattered and jumbled and in fragments. Out of order. And I can’t recall things “on command”, mostly. It is like water currents. Not linear. If a memory comes to me, it just happens out of my control. I think sometimes there is something to pull up that memory, but because I don’t process things well, I can’t usually know what the “trigger” is. It is hard to even know where there is gaps in my memory, because so jumbled.

When one memory comes, usually my brain gets loud with many memories all making a lot of “noise” in there all at once. Because it is all interlinked somehow. One water current comes up to the surface, and pulls many other undercurrents up with it. This is true for any memory, bad or not. But even if a good/neutral memory comes to the surface, it can quickly pull up very bad memories along with it.

Then my body reaction is of full intense fear. Not any other word to describe. Just like my body thinks I am in Danger. And that is the same feeling of my body that I always had pretty much all day every day for my whole childhood. Constant survival mode. And only way to try cope is constant “disconnect” from everything. Which is the mode I am in most of the time - avoid avoid avoid, distract distract distract. When brain gets loud, I must fight my way back to this “blank” state.

After I manage to calm down, the water currents settle back to underneath. And the top goes mostly flat and calmer again. Less like storm, more like gentle waves and thoughts like rain make ripples. I can place distractions on top of the water like boats or leaves or sticks, which takes attention away from the chaos beneath.

Every time this “storm” happens, I get to hold on to more and more bits and pieces that get left over, stay floating at the surface like driftwood. So over time I can slowly slowly piece together more and more, to better understand the things that happened to me.

It is also complicated due to the fact that I mostly didn’t understand what was happening at the time. (Especially if the memory is from a much younger Ezra). For example, I used to have more access to memories of abuse when I was younger, because I simply didn’t know that it was even bad, at all. When I started understanding that more, my brain blocked it off stronger and stronger so I have less access to those memories now.

I also didn’t understand my own feelings or reactions or what that meant. So, even though I always had horrible awful feelings in my body, like twisty sick-y clenching feelings in my tummy constantly, or always right about to cry, or awful awful headaches… I just thought that is how my body feels. Because it was always like that. I couldn’t make connections that it was worse at certain times or near certain people, I just knew it was bad. But still didn’t connect that with the word “bad”.

My understanding and awareness of all this is improving over time. So I now at least connect these bad body feelings with the bad memories, and link it with the fact that my body always felt that way. I still don’t have words for the emotions, I don’t understand that part yet. And I am aware that the bad memories are there, just buried deep under the surface, blocked away by my brain. And I understand more and more just how bad it was.

Now that I can tell other people tiny fragments of it, they also tell me how awful it is (not to upset me, just to make me aware of the awfulness level). It helps me better understand the scale of it. There is still much that I can’t get out in words, but I work hard on that.

This is the answer I can come up with, I hope it is helpful. And hope I understood the question correctly. The short summary is: my body reactions is the strongest indicator that lets me know that something was traumatic, even when I don’t have full access to memories.

Thank you for this ask, friend. It made me think about this and organise my thoughts into words, which helps me a lot. I hope you have a calm, content, and comfortable day/night. 💜💚

[bigdreamsandwildthings]

Review: Delicious Monsters (Liselle Sambury)

Rating: ★★★★.5/5

“I left the forgotten Black girl inside of me. The one who desperately wanted those phone calls from my mom. The one who thought she could never amount to anything. Could never really be loved by anyone. Who thought she would always be her mother’s daughter.

Today that girl saved another one like her. And that means something.”

This was twisty and dark and unsettling, and I devoured it.

Daisy has seen ghosts her entire life, and she's struggled with how different that makes her. Her mom struggles alongside her, and now, all Daisy wants is to get them to a better place so that maybe one day, she can move away and start her own life. When they inherit a mansion in northern Ontario, it seems like the perfect opportunity to get away and find a better situation for themselves, but there are ghosts lurking there that have more in store for Daisy than she knows. Meanwhile, Brittany has her own connections to the "Miracle Mansion", 10 years in the future, and is determined to unearth the truth of the house that changes lives.

I love a haunted house story, and this does have that element to it, but right away it felt different. I loved Blood Like Magic, but then despised Blood Like Fate, so I didn't know what to expect from Liselle going in; however, she shines writing this kind of blend of horror and contemporary YA with something important to say, and this ultimately shone way more than her first series overall for me.

Neither Daisy nor Brittany is a particularly likeable character. Daisy is trying to find herself in the midst of what she's been told she is for her whole life, and understandably, she does that in a man - until he breaks her heart. Brittany is completely mistrustful of everyone, and in the industry she's in, I feel like she has to be; even those she says are her friends, she treats like she's just waiting for them to betray her.

However, these are Black girls who have gone through it in their lives. They have complicated relationships with their mothers that are truly at the heart of the story being told, and I didn't think they had to be likeable. They were resilient, and nuanced, and I wanted them to have what was best for them, no matter what their moms said about that.

I loved the horror side of this one, and I wanted more of it. Some things are written so grotesquely that I had to put the book down and recompose myself a few times, but this element feels like it gets lost as the book progresses.

I also just wanted more explanations for some of those horror-y things that happen. What the FUCK is the deal with the maggots?! That will haunt me for the rest of my days I think, and having a logical explanation would've helped.

Again, this is such a well-written, genre-bending book that has big themes that it deals with really well. I am still thinking about it a week after finishing it, and I know I will be for a long time.

[waitmyturtles]

Oh, HAPPINESS! I had some childcare help today, finally (!!!!), so I got to watch my first drama of anything in over a week, and it was Kabe Koji, and ohhhh it’s good! 

Quick little background on my small history with doujinshis: the only doujinshis I’ve read are the Kinou Nani Tabeta ones, which are wonderfully scanlated by Ikemen Scans (although I also buy the Japanese versions, because me = #fangirl). Yes, the world of doujinshis is rather wild for a relative newcomer to the manga scene like myself, but to be honest, the KNT doujinshis, besides sexy times, are quite wholesome because of the huge warmth of the relationship between Shiro-san and Kenji. (Volumes 3 and 4 of the doujinshis deal with a continuing wrinkle in their relationship that’s actually really lovely and moving, and it demonstrates how their intimacy helps them work through their communication issues, particularly on Shiro-san’s end.) In other words, the doujinshis really shine a more holistic light on their relationship than we get just from the regular volume releases, and I’m devoted to Yoshinaga Fumi-sensei for drawing them in the first place.

ANYWAY! With all that said, when I first saw that Kabe Koji would spotlight a doujinshi writer, I was like, I’m all in. I haven’t read the canon manga for this show, but I really like the grumpy-cat-hikikomori-like vibe of Nekoyashi, and clearly the show is going to go to all twisty-sorts of places with the way Issei is being treated by his group, and with the shrine reveal at the end of the first episode. I don’t know why I’m getting a little bit of a reminder of Life: Love on the Line with this -- maybe it’s the flashbacks to the school years -- but this show just seems complicated and hilarious and emotional, and I think I’m really going to like the dive into doujinshi culture to help me understand it more.

Also, I LOVE the animated bits -- it reminds me of how I felt when I first started reading doujinshis to understand what the heck, culturally, I was experiencing, and it’s nice to see these bits being used to sort of explain Nekoyashi’s mind and emphasize the doujinshi culture that this show will focus on. (And, omg the book’s title and animated book cover, but also like, lol squee lol.) 

AAAHHHH, FEELS GOOD TO BE BACK WATCHING DRAMAS AND WRITING ABOUT THEM! At least I can squeeze a little time in for the time being!

[viridianllamasinthesilentspace]

Sorting Robin McKinley’s “Outlaws of Sherwood”

Marian’s utterly ‘unstripped’ Gryffindor Primary is probably best pointed out in the narrative during her conversation with Aethelreda. Marian knows what she wants: Her life is difficult, complicated, and unfair, but she knows what she wants, even if she may not get it. It’s why Beatrix, Aethelreda explains, hates Marian. And it’s why Aethelreda finds her incomprehensible. (My money for Aethelreda goes on Ravenclaw Primary who builds and settles on her worldview as her world changes, and who does not understand Marian’s stubborn intuition.)

Marian’s forthright Gryffindor Secondary had been necessarily subdued, over the course of her childhood and now adulthood, lying and sneaking around in order to have some freedom in her life. Her Gryffindor Secondary has taken all the damage of her life, leaving her Gryffindor Primary more whole. Marian’s built a handy Slytherin Secondary model to deal with all the subterfuge she needs to accomplish. It exhausts her and it saddens her, but keeping her life her own, and keeping Robin, are more important to her. Still, when she can live as the Gryffindor Secondary she is, she glows with the rightness of it.

Cecily, like Marian, is a Gryffindor Secondary, but she never learnt to subdue hers. She, perhaps, tries to build a Hufflepuff Secondary model to match Little John’s quiet dedication, work ethic, and reliability; but Cecily never manages to build anything like Marian’s handy Slytherin Secondary model. She will be herself or die for it, and when she first charged into Sherwood in stolen boy’s clothing, that was why.

Cecily’s Gryffindor Secondary is so loud and so desperate that it drowns out her Primary. From her loyalties to group (and her mass hatred of Normans), my vote goes to Hufflepuff Primary.

Where Cecily bonds to the whole outlaw family, Little John bonds to Robin, and then to Cecily. His loyalties are individual, precise, and driving—a Slytherin Primary’s loyalties, in contrast to Cecily’s Hufflepuff. Unlike many of the more Idealist individuals in Robin’s Sherwood, Little John (and Cecily) are not here because it is right. Little John arrived because he was desperate, and he stayed because he loved them.

The dedicated, taciturn backbone of the camp, Little John is a Hufflepuff Secondary who’s a lot more interested in hard work than friendliness. He is reliable, sturdy, and steady. He gets work done and well, and that’s how he best interacts with the world.

Will Scarlet might be a Gryffindor Secondary, like Marian and Cecily, but like his little sister and unlike Marian, he never bothered to learn to curb his tongue. We see it with his conflict with Nigel at Sir Richard’s, and in his general glee at stepping on toes. —Or is Will a Slytherin Secondary who finally gets to Neutral State? (Neutral Stating is when a twisty, adaptive Slytherin Secondary gets to drop all their layers and just be. Examples of characters who virtually live in their Neutral State: Toph from “Avatar: The Last Airbender”, and Percy from “Percy Jackson and the Olympians”.)

A Neutral Stating Slytherin Secondary could be why Will is delighted by how his new home allows such blunt honesty, as opposed to relieved and desperate. Cecily cannot live cooped up, not allowed to speak—Will could have survived, with his quick, glib tongue, but he is delighted to be in the greenwood where he can let down his guard. Yes, I think that’s it: Slytherin Secondary for Will Scarlet, but he loves to live in his blunt Neutral State.

His Primary, I think, is Ravenclaw. Will adapts, reacts, and learns systems. He thinks before he makes big calls, even though he doesn’t think before he speaks. His choosing to leave his noble family and lifestyle for Sherwood feels more Ravenclaw than anything else. He thought about it and decided what he could live with and what he couldn’t. This wasn’t a whim, as Robin fears, and then Marian chides Robin for fearing.

The world appears to think that Robin Hood is a Gryffindor Secondary: He is the fearless leader, the inspiration, the legend, the fey myth. The Robin we know (that some subset of the outlaws know as well), however, is a Ravenclaw Secondary. He is panicked and anxious until he has his camps set up, his contingency plans and hideaways buried, his food stocked; even then, he’s anxious and pessimistic, but Robin is at his most comfortable at the height of Greentree’s organization and security.

He’s never completely comfortable, of course. There’s always something to worry over, plan against, whittle, repair, guard, or fret about. Like Cecily comments, Robin never seems to sleep—he’s always on sentry duty or carving something and staring into the fire thoughtfully. The life of a Sherwood outlaw is unsustainable, and Robin is one of the few in the camp who fully understands that.

His Primary is Gryffindor, and this is one of the places he and Marian meet best. It’s the source of his temper in some ways, and also the source of some of his leadership appeal. His certainty, worries, and goodness drive those who know him personally and well to trust, follow, and love him.

[badassbutterfly1987]

2024 Book Reviews (January-June)

5 stars

Doomsday with My Dog (Yu Ishihara, 2022): Post apocalypse manga with a teenage girl and her shiba inu companion traveling across Japan. Format a bit like the daily Garfield comics, it's overall a good time and worth a read especially for dog lovers. Also the epilogues to each volume consistently made me cry (in a good way).

The Nursery (Szilvia Molnar, 2023): An undeniably rough read about a new mother experiencing post-partum depression while trying to care for her infant daughter while her husband has to return to work and leave them alone for most of the day. As someone with complicated personal feelings about pregnancy/childbirth/parenthood, it was unsettling to read about the portrayal of depression and intrusive thoughts. Warning for brief thoughts of harming her child and the specific discomforts post-pregnancy.

4 stars

Ninefox Gambit (Yoon Ha Lee, 2016): Did I understand half of the scientific worldbuilding? No. But I did adore the Cheris-Jedao dynamic and the secondary characters were interesting. There are a bunch of twisty flashbacks in the climax/aftermath that would make a second reading worth it.

3 stars

River of Teeth (Sarah Gailey, 2017): Fun but too short to have much depth. Decent heist, decent characters, decent diversity.

Alone in Space collection (Tillie Walden, 2021): Wish I had stronger feelings because these are clearly personal comics.

Stolen Gods (Jake Page, 1993): A fantastic premise with an unique character. The first in a series about a blind sculpturer who is also an amateur investigator (think Sherlock Holmes). Its approach to Hopi culture and the bullshit of art collectors/museums being resistant to returning cultural artifacts seems well-researched. Can't say much about the blind representation; some scenes clearly take it into account while others seem lacking (one would expect the use of a white cane or seeing eye dog and not just relying on people around him as a guide).

2 stars

Rain Will Come (Thomas Holgate, 2020): Neo-noir thriller with a great premise but mostly doesn't deliver. Some good moments but otherwise felt like I wasted time reading this when there are better versions in the genre.

Ash (Malinda Lo, 2009): I like the premise. I wish I liked the actual story better. It has the right bones but ultimately didn't click with me beyond the first third and part of that is that I'm not sure what the book is trying to be about. Is it a character study? Is it a love triangle? Is it about the main character overcoming institutional sexism, homophobia, or class differences? There's pieces of all of that but no depth and little vibrancy. Kaisa as the main love interest has some sweet interactions with Ash but that's about it. Sidhean has more presence by virtue of being a mysterious fairy with uncertain motives but aside from a last minute reveal, there's no more depth beyond that. The conflict resolution made me have a "wait, that's it?" reaction.

Nonfiction:

The Mask of Benevolence: Disabling the Deaf Community (Harlan Lane, 1992): Decent look at the poor treatment of the Deaf community by hearing people. Tends to be dry and meandering, probably better books if you want to learn about the history of the Deaf community.

Act Natural: A Cultural History of Misadventures in Parenting (Jennifer Traig, 2019): fascinating idea, wish it was better structured and less distractedly snarky. Also have to take everything with a grain of salt because I caught two notable mistakes in the first 50 pages; otherwise gives the impression of being well-researched.

Pageboy (Elliot Page, 2023): an intimate and personal memoir about Elliot Page's difficult experiences in Hollywood, struggling with depression and dysphoria, multiple messy relationships, and coming out twice.

Kinfolks: Falling Off the Family Tree (Lisa Alther, 2007): the author's memoir about growing up in Tennessee and researching her possible Melungeon ancestors. While the subject is interesting, it takes a while to get to the point.

A Fire Story (Brian Fies): Conveys the experiences of the author and other families during and after the 2017 California wildfires that destroyed their homes. The art style is simple and conveys a lot of emotion

[yournameoneverypage]

If It Isn't You / Part 2

Shawn Mendes x reader. Word Count: ~3.1k Warnings: A little bit of everything. Angst, fluff, slight smut. A/N: If you haven't yet read "If It Isn't You", you may want to. I hadn't originally planned on turning IIIY into a two-parter, but this request felt too perfect. It might not be exactly what you had in mind, Anon, but I hope you like it just the same. I know I haven't posted anything for awhile so be easy on me, yeah? 😜

/// ❤️ \\\

Four years later…

Aura barreled into her nana and papa’s house, straight for her auntie Aaliyah, who scooped her up and peppered kisses all over her face.

Shawn trailed behind, a sleepy Ezra in his arms. He gave his mum a one-armed hug.

Karen reached for the three-year-old to take him from her son and immediately noticed how warm he was. “Poor baby.”

“No nausea, but no appetite either. His fever is at 101. I gave him some Tylenol, and I’ve been pushing fluids. Water, juice, Pedialyte, whatever he’ll drink.”

Manny stepped up beside them and placed one hand on Shawn’s shoulder, gently squeezing, while the other tenderly rubbed his grandson’s small back.

“Y/n told me I could leave him home with her for a few hours, but she’s supposed to be on bed rest. He probably would have just slept beside her the whole time, but I would have worried all evening.”

“You didn’t have to come to dinner this week at all, bub,” Karen said.

“Y/n insisted,” Shawn smirked, with a roll of his eyes. “She’s annoyed with me for being a ‘mother hen’ and said a few hours of quiet would help her not smother me in my sleep tonight,” he chuckled. “I got her all set up and Mia is on call.”

“How’s she doing?” Aaliyah asked, approaching her family, Aura perched on her hip.

“Better than I am, or so it seems,” Shawn said with a soft huff. “I don’t think she’s letting me see the full truth of it. There were no complications with the twins and she was active up until the day they were born. She’s used to being independent and completely immersed in Ez and Aura’s routines, and I know it’s affecting her that she has to stay still and depend on me more than she feels is fair. We’ve always been a team, and to have to watch from the sidelines has been hard for her.

"She’s easily irritated and reacts in her frustration and then she feels guilty when she bites at me.”

Aura unexpectedly launched herself at Shawn and when he caught her, she clung to him, little arms around his neck. “Hey monkey,” he murmured, giving her a squeeze and a kiss. He realized that this conversation might not be best to continue in front of your baby girl. “Should we help Nana finish getting dinner ready?” he asked, shifting gears. She nodded but still wouldn’t loosen her hold on her daddy.

Aura watched as Nana gave Ezra to Papa, and as Papa carried Ezra to the living room couch to lay him down. She screwed her little face into a scowl. She didn’t like how everyone was fussing over her brother. It made her belly feel funny.

She felt better when she was helping Nana with dinner and watching Daddy and Auntie Liyah tease each other while they got the table set, especially when Daddy kept asking his ‘prettiest and goofiest and specialest girl’ which dishes and cups and napkins would be best.

///

Sitting at the table without a spot set for Ezy, listening to Daddy and Papa and Nana and Liyah talk about things she didn’t fully understand, Aura missed Ezy. She had always had her brother to talk to when the grownups were talking.

But even though she missed Ezy, she also didn’t like him right now because dinner kept getting cut up by someone always going and coming back and forth to check on him, even though he was sleeping.

She felt as small as an inchworm. Her little body would scrunch up tight until someone would ask her a question and then she’d stretch when it was her turn to talk. Too soon and everyone would go back to stupid grownup talk and she’d… scrunch.

Aura’s belly, and now her eyes too, started getting all twisty again. She stood from her seat without Daddy telling her she could be excused and with mean fists she stomped her foot before bolting from the room.

She almost ran back to tell Daddy she was sorry for not asking if she could be done, because the worst thing of all was when Daddy was ‘disappointed’, but her skin felt too itchy.

///

Shawn found your daughter in his old bedroom, where she was stuffing things into her extra dance bag. Karen and Manny had transformed it into a room for their grandbabies with two small beds, drawers full of clothes, and bins full of toys.

He paused in the doorway. “What are you doing, monkey?”

“I’m runnin’ ’way,” Aura said, giving her daddy the angriest face she could muster, but Shawn could also see the tears in eyes so much like yours.

Shawn knelt down before her and tugged gently on one of her braids. “I wish you didn’t feel like you need to leave. I’d sure miss you. Mommy too. And Nana and Papa, and Auntie Liyah,” he continued, looking over his shoulder where they were all now hovering.

“And what about Auntie Mia, and Uncle Brian, and Grumpy and Gran? Miss Annie, Ms Kelly, Jacob and Clara and Tess would all be worried if you didn’t go to school. But who would miss you the very most?”

“Ezy,” she sniffled.

“That’s right. He wouldn’t have anyone to play with, or anyone to tell his secrets to. And who gives Ezy the best hugs when he’s sad?”

“Me.”

“Yes, you Aura. You’re very special to our family. We’d all be so sad if you ran away. I know you’re a big, brave girl, but wouldn’t you and Cherrybutt be lonely all by yourselves?”

Aura hugged her stuffed chameleon tightly to her chest.

In turn, Karen, Manny, and Aaliyah all appealed to the now wavering little girl.

Karen asked softly, “Who’s going to help me make banana bread and double chocolate chip muffins?”

“Who’s going to help me in the garden?” Manny added. “My hands are too big to find the best raspberries on the bushes.”

“Who’s going to paint my nails?” Aaliyah asked. “I’m in desperate need of a pedicure; you should see my feet!”

Aura giggled then and her smile was back, big and bright like her daddy’s.

“So, what do you say, munchkin?” Shawn whispered. “Do you think maybe you’ll stay now?”

She nodded and said, “Sorry for not asking to be ’scused. Don’t be dis’pointed.”

Shawn’s heart grew three sizes. He enveloped her small frame in his strong arms, hugging her to him snugly. He then began to rain little kisses all over her face and neck and shoulders until she was giggling uncontrollably.

Finally he eased away and bopped the tip of her nose with his fingertip. “I love you, monkey.”

“Love you too, Daddy,” she responded, small hands on his cheeks.

Aura gave her nana, papa, and auntie hugs before dashing back downstairs.

///

When the four adults trailed after, they found Aura snuggled up next to Ezra, who was now awake and aware. Her arm was wrapped around him and their eyes were glued to the Storybots on the screen.

Aaliyah put her hand against Ezra’s forehead and nodded at her brother, smiling softly. His fever had broken. She curled into the other side of the couch to watch over her niece and nephew as Karen and Manny followed Shawn back into the kitchen.

Without his parents having to ask him what might have brought that on, Shawn began talking while starting to clear the table.

“She’s been having a really hard time with the… upset. Ezra’s handling things a little better, but it’s been tough on him, too.”

Karen waved him away from the table, and Shawn retrieved some crackers and began to fill a juice cup for Ezra, then Aura.

He continued, “For the first two years of their life, they didn’t know anything other than travel and tour and a crew of ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’ who doted on them, but they were so young the… discord didn’t really phase them as long as Mommy and Daddy were nearby.

“This past year, settling into something less chaotic, the security of a home and their own bedroom for longer than a few weeks at a time, preschool, creating bonds with their teachers, making friends, it’s been really good for them, very stabilizing.

“But right now, her momma is unable to be a part of many of the things she always has, and she can’t play except for quiet games, and only for short spurts, and the baby will be here before we know it and we’re trying to prepare for that, and with Ezra being sick for the past couple of days, she’s frustrated with all of the disruptions and the lack of attention. I’ve been doing everything I can to try to keep things as normal as possible, but I’m only one man.”

“You’re a stellar husband and father, bub, don’t you ever doubt that,” Karen said.

“I don’t. Y/n won’t let me,” he smiled tenderly, thinking about you back at home without him.

You were always telling and showing him how grateful and lucky you were to have him. His devotion to you and your babies frequently brought you to tears, especially now pregnant with your third.

Shawn’s heart tightened with his love for you, all at once missing you fiercely.

“They aren’t the only ones having a hard time,” Manny said in recognition, placing a hand against Shawn’s cheek. “It’s in your eyes and through your shoulders.”

Karen added, “I know you pride yourself on being Superdad, but you need to ask for help when things get overwhelming. That’s what grandparents are for.”

Again Manny’s hand fell to Shawn’s shoulder. He glanced at his wife, who nodded, knowing exactly what her husband was going to offer. “Let us take the twins this week. It’s been awhile since we’ve had them all to ourselves.”

“We know all of their routines and they’ll be spoiled with attention,” Karen grinned.

“Go home alone to your beautiful wife, eh?” Manny suggested. “Spend some time together, just the two of you.”

“That actually sounds really amazing,” Shawn deeply sighed. He hadn’t realized tears had formed in the corners of his eyes until his mum was cupping his face and swiping them away with her thumbs.

“Get some rest, Son. Stay in bed with your wife. Make out a bit, or maybe a lot,” Manny smirked. “Just because you can’t have sex right now, that doesn’t mean there aren’t other ways to be intimate.”

“Dad,” Shawn blushed.

Karen chuckled and teased, “Do you need any suggestions?“

“No,” Shawn answered quickly, snickering with half amusement, half embarrassment.

“Your dad and I-”

“Mum!” he laughed, completely embarrassed now. But his head started to buzz and his stomach began fluttering thinking about all of the ways he could spoil you over the next week.

With sincerity, Karen continued, “Maybe the doctor will ease the restrictions if you can get y/n’s blood pressure down. If she doesn’t have to worry about you, and the twins, and worry about you worrying about her and the twins, it might help.”

“I think you need to reconnect and refresh,” Manny added, “not just with your sweetheart, but with yourself and your art. Maybe you can get a little studio time in. You’ve put the new album aside to concentrate on your family, but your soul needs your music like your lungs need air to breathe.”

Shawn thought to himself that he really did have the best parents. He strived to be the kind of husband and father his own father had always been.

Fortunately he had found the same in you. Your drive and desire to be the best wife and mother you could be had only strengthened your relationship. You were unshakable. He knew you would support each other through every up and down.

Suddenly Shawn was desperate to get home. He hoped his children wouldn’t object too strongly in staying with their nana and papa, especially Ezra. Sometimes all you wanted when you were sick were your parents.

If at any time over the next week they wanted to come home, he wouldn’t hesitate in returning for them.

Bringing juice and crackers to the twins, who were still engrossed in Storybots, he paused the episode to talk to them about it.

With barely any hesitation, and only a brief smooch, Aura said a quick, “Bye Daddy.” And after a big squish from Ezra, Ezra just took the remote from Shawn’s hand and unpaused the television.

As if reading her brother’s thoughts, Aaliyah chuckled. “I’ll pick them up after school the days I can and take them to the park or out for ice cream.”

“Thank you,” he exhaled with a small laugh.

He knew his parents wouldn’t park them in front of the television all week, but they were certainly more lenient with screen time than both of you were.

He told himself that any unplugging you would have to do with the twins after a week with Nana and Papa would be well worth it if you could put aside the worries and stress for a while.

Now, home.

///

You were dozing, taking a break from mindless reality television, reading, and your tablet games, the only four damn things you could do these days, when you startled awake from a shift of the mattress.

Your husband had stripped down to his boxer briefs and was suddenly hovering over you with a tender smile. He lowered his lips to yours for a sweet, languid kiss. You chased his lips as he eased away, and he smirked before indulging you.

“You’re back already?” you asked, slightly breathless. Shawn’s kisses always did that to you. Had you been asleep longer than you thought you had? “The twins?” you wondered. Had you slept through bedtime stories?

“Still at my parents’.”

“Oh.”

“They’re staying over tonight. All week if they want, if we want,” Shawn whispered.

“All week?” you gasped, not sure how you felt about a week away from your babies, but what fell next from your mouth was an, “Oh…” of realization.

Shawn’s hands found the hem of the shirt you were wearing, which was his, and he shifted your body enough to pull it up your sides and over your head.

“Shawn,” you whined.

“I know, darling. I just want your skin against mine,” he murmured, nudging you onto your side so he could pull you into his arms, your back to his chest.

His hand splayed over your swollen stomach and he almost immediately felt the movement of your third child beneath it. He buried his lips in your neck and breathed deeply.

Your hand covered Shawn’s. “How’s Ezy?”

“His fever broke.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

“No worries tonight, Love, okay?” He would tell you about what happened with Aura tomorrow. “Just you and I alone together.”

You liked the sound of that; it had been awhile since you’d been able to just focus on each other.

His warm skin and breath and scent curled around you. If only you could fuck. Not being able to have sex with your husband when your hormones were raging for him had been excruciating. You had always had an incredible sex life and you missed it, so damn much. You wriggled your body closer to him.

It was Shawn’s turn to whine when your bottom brushed against his crotch. “Darling…”

“I need something,” you rasped, pleaded. “Just a little bit. Please, Shawnie...”

To be honest, he did too. He’d been getting himself off in the shower, but he missed being buried deep within you.

“Okay, baby,” he cooed. He couldn’t risk bringing you to orgasm, but he knew what he could do. He would still have to be careful since he knew how sensitive you were when pregnant.

From behind you you could feel Shawn shifting to remove his boxer briefs. You did the same, pushing your panties down eagerly, and he chuckled.

He choked on his laugh when your hand reached behind and between you and easily found his cock, already stiffening. He groaned and thrust in your gentle grip. You brought him to full hardness with a few strokes and impatiently began guiding him to where you wanted him most, lifting your leg to make it easier.

You were already soaked and he smoothly slid into you, sinking deep with a satisfied moan.

You sighed with pleasure as he filled you as perfectly as he always had. You started to rock against him but he stilled you with a hand between your legs to cup your mons. You whimpered.

“I know, darling. Just… just this. We can’t risk it. Just keep me warm, Love.”

Of course, you wouldn’t do anything to risk preterm labor. You had three more weeks, at the very least, before your obstetrician wanted you to deliver, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be unhappy about it.

Shawn slid his index finger between your folds and began to languorously stroke your clit, never putting enough pressure on it to heighten your arousal, just enough to soothe and relieve some of your pent up frustration.

“Just this…” you hummed and sighed blissfully. “Feels good…”

“I love you,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck and across your shoulder.

“I love you,” you responded, intertwining your fingers and bringing his hand to your lips to kiss the back of it, then his knuckles, then his palm. “What are we going to do with so much free time?” you giggled.

“Lots more of this.” His hips rolled just barely, but you felt every glorious inch of him. You could feel his smirk against the skin just beneath your ear. “And bubble baths. Massages. Decadent picnics in bed…”

Your toes curled. It all sounded divine.

“We can watch our shows. And we don’t even have to get dressed if we don’t want to. Naked Monday… naked Tuesday…” You covered his mouth with yours, his ‘naked Wednesday’ coming out as a mumble against your lips.

“Will you sing to me?” you smiled when your lips parted, cupping his face, fingertips along his jawline, thumb brushing across the cleft of his chin.

“Every day,” he vowed, adoration dancing in his eyes.

“Naked?” you smirked.

His answering laughter was clear and boisterous, fluttering along your spine.

“Anything you want, darling,” he said, relaxing against you again, pulling you even closer. “Everything you want,” he whispered as you floated in that pocket between wakefulness and sleep.

///

I know I say this often, but if you want to be added to my taglist, please let me know. 💕

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida @weedangel-x @monikamendes @mendesficsxbombay @hiding-behind-a-flower @chocochipcookie305 @misti-ka @fallinallinshawn

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Do you have any advice on how to write a primary protagonist who ends up betraying the good guys and becoming an antagonist in a major plot twist? I wanted it to be a slow thing, where he actually turns evil earlier, but doesn’t betray everyone until later

So there's a few things you've got to consider, and the first is that the reader needs to understand why the protagonist is making this choice. That means your twist can't be a complete, unexpected surprise - the shock can still be there with the choice made, but the reader should be able to sit back and think about how it was foreshadowed the whole way.

So here's a few things you need to make plain:

Where your character stands morally - and what would make him change his morals. Antiheroes, for example, have a strict moral code they stand by (which might not necessarily be our moral codes, but we understand what the code is). When the antihero is forced to violate that code, we need to understand how that impacts them emotionally, and what their justification is for violating their personal code. All characters have personal rules they obey, so we need to know what your character's moral code is, and why he decides to change it.

What events contribute to this choice - and how. The most common reason for this kind of plot twisty betrayal is that the protagonist feels they've been betrayed first. Maybe his companions have crossed lines he's promised never to cross (there's that code again), or make him complicit in events he'd never participate in by choice. If they need to kill the king, but also murder an innocent servant in the process, does that sit right with your character? Or does it fester, haunting them throughout the book?

External pressure versus internal pressure. Let's say your character is being pressured to betray his companions - his son has been kidnapped by the Big Bad, and he'll do anything to get him back. This is a different approach to the violated code - in order for your character to work himself up to the betrayal, he'll need to convince himself it's justified somehow. His companions never waver, but his view of them changes - they're no longer noble, but seeking glory. Their refusal to kill will only cause more pain in the future, etc.

Leading up to the betrayal, you'll want to pinpoint several points where the main character's opinion changes. Perhaps you'll have two rescue attempts - the first successful, your character still firmly on the side of good, the second far more complicated, maybe even a complete character - and your character abruptly realizes all the wrong ways the "good guys" have been doing things. By the time he betrays them, he'll be utterly convince he's justified in doing so - and no matter how horrified the reader might be at the betrayal, they should also be able to understand how it is justified to the main character.

[kickthecan-revolution]

Deep breath.

@trackabandoned I can’t thank you enough for that comment, I read that over and over again and it helped me. You are my soul friend. 

That initial panic about him having COVID has passed. I did the math and he would have gotten sick last week when I did and his caregiver confirmed he was fine last week He was barely holding on and just decided it was time. 

I think my feelings for my dad are so complex, the plumbing connecting my head and heart is twisty-turny and the grief will have to travel through that complicated, weird highway at its own pace, this being one example. I really did believe for a solid two hours that I’d killed him, the responsibility was immersive and intense. I don’t know why I do that to myself but that belief of being responsible floods me and it’s hard to stop. Thankfully it’s passed now. 

I went into his email and let his high school friends know - I don’t know who is alive and who isn’t. I read his rants to the newspaper, his yelling at vendors, the way he charmed people. He was an excellent writer. I bought his first and last name domain and will type out every single word of that eight page front to back obituary, exactly as he wanted it. Listing all of his successes. All of the ways he tried to not be what his dad told him he was. Such generational pain, please let it be broken.  He wanted it and it’s kind of crazy but I’ll do it and I’ll do it exactly as he wanted so it will be the first thing anyone might see when they google him. 

My brother was with my mom until they took him. I asked them to please put his dentures back in because he’s so vain, he’d hate leaving this world that way.  They have both chosen to be cremated and I guess at times, families debate what one wears when that occurs - we didn’t. 

My mom seems OK, she wanted to be alone. She said he’s been afraid every day of his life. She didn’t understand how much until recently. I hope so much that he’s not afraid anymore.

[darkpurpledawn]

All the books I read in August

Arriving Today by Christopher Mims (nonfiction) Four stars

Really interesting overview of the history and current state of global shipping, which takes as its framing conceit the journey of a single USB charger from a factory in Vietnam to a doorstep delivery. I imagine this might be a bit repetitive to someone more familiar with shipping and logistics, but I was really fascinated, and came out of this read feeling like I simultaneously understand much more and much less about how the world works, which is always a fun feeling from a nonfiction book.

The book is focused pretty tightly (despite a lot of historical digressions) on the part of global trade that concerns the logistics of finished consumer products being delivered to consumers, and one of the big takeaways was ironically just how small a part that is of the whole, even as it is itself incredibly vast. 

All in all, a great jumping off point for learning more about the unbelievably complicated puzzle that is modern trade.

To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis (comedy/mystery) FIve stars

Well this instantly rocketed to my top ten books of all time! Time travel was discovered but, due to a lack of profitability, is mostly used by academics, including the group our story concerns who are repeatedly travelling to the late 19th and early 20th centuries to see how a cathedral that was destroyed in WWII originally appeared. Some accidents send our hero into the Victorian Era for recuperation but damage the timeline along the way, leading to a brilliant and complicated plot that is about one part twisty mystery, one part homage to the classic Three Men in a Boat, and one part zany upstairs/downstairs romance tribulations interspersed with seances.

And it’s hysterical.

You’ve Lost a Lot of Blood by Eric LaRocca (horror) One star

This started out so strong with a great, creepy first chapter, but most of this book is a novella-within-a-novella surrounded by some unconvincing fake audio transcripts, and the novella is just not all that interesting to start with and the interjection of the awkward dialogue sections really undermines whatever suspense it might have had. I might try the author’s more well known book since I did really enjoy the first section, but this one had pretty fatal structura issues.

How to Invent Everything by Ryan North (nonfiction) Five stars

Picked this up on a complete whim thanks to the posts of @st-just, and it’s utterly wonderful. If you have also often wondered “how hard was it to come up with all basic technology starting at square one with no previous knowledge?” this book is waiting for you (and it seems like the answer is really, really hard).

I don’t usually hold onto my physical books for long after reading them, but I’m going to keep this one around as a reference and a starting point for filling in knowledge gaps (which after reading this book really feel like knowledge black holes).

One thing I’d change about this one: despite a pretty clear attempt to focus on all of human history and not just Europe, the book kept noting when things were introduced to Europe even if invented elsewhere, but didn’t do the reverse for other large world regions, which seemed really unnecessary. 

And the ones I read more than 100 pages of but decided not to finish:

Hide by Kiersten White (horror)

After mainlining so much Batman media, I was unable to resist the cover and the promise of a haunted amusement park story, but I went in expecting a really different style and was put off by the 20 or so characters the reader seems expected to 1. rapidly learn the names of and 2. despise. I don’t mind unlikeable characters but this had about as much subtlety as being hit in the face with a hardcover.

Rabbits by Terry Miles (thriller, I guess?)

Although I love the idea of a thriller novel about a sinister alternate reality game (Or Is It Just Reality??), and although I’ve intermittently enjoyed the scripted podcast this is based on, I don’t think the author really did enough work to successfully adapt a story from that world into the novel format. Characters saying “do you think this could be part of the game????” over and over is a lot easier to listen to in a multivoice podcast than it is to read on the page. I didn’t hate this, but it didn’t feel worth continuing when a similar story is available in a format it’s better suited for.

I’m floundering trying to find horror novels I like, help me out and rec me your faves!

[dasy002]

HARD TO LOVE

Main masterlist | American Horror Story masterlist

Wilhemina Venable x reader

Prompt: write a story with a song that tells how you feel

The song: "Hard to love" by Lee Brice

Warnings: ANGST, thoughts are written like 'this'

I'm sorry this is all dark and twisty and has absolutely no sense. (Becky if you're reading this don't hate me please)

Loves you 💜

I’m insensitive, I have a tendency 

To pay more attention to the things that I need

Sometimes I drink too much,

Sometimes I test your trust,

Sometimes I dunno why you stay with me?

They say ‘Everyone deserves to be loved’, but that’s bullshit and you know it. 

You don’t deserve it, love, that weird and complicated sentiment. ‘I’m to fucked up for love’ that’s what you keep repeting yourself everyda. But the world has blessed you with a very lovely and patient girlfriend. Under your eyes Mina is simply perfect, almost flawless, ‘And she has to put up with someone like you’. The little voice inside your head is always there to remind you how terrible you are every time you start thinking that maybe, just maybe you deserve some of your girlfriend's love.

The more you think about it, the less you can understand it. After every time you mess up, after you upsetted her so much, she’s still by your side and loves you more than ever.

I’m hard to love, hard to love, oh I don’t make it easy

And I couldn’t do it if I stood where you stood

I’m hard to love, hard to love and you say that you need me.

It’s right, you’re hard to love. This is what you conclude after you’ve spent the most part of your life watching people walking out of your life, just the same way you walk out of the store after you got your shopping done. They’ve never given an explanation of why they left and that caused you to overthink, until you finally came to a possible conclusion. You are the problem, they all went away cause you are too much and they couldn’t put up with you. 

Now being conscious of that makes you paranoid and insecure, only making it even harder to love you, cause you’ve convinced yourself you don’t deserve it. That’s why you consider Mina as a superhero, not cause she saved you from your dark place, but cause after all the bullshit you pulled her through, she’s still by your side. Even after you stopped loving yourself, she’s still here. 

“What’s the point in loving someone that’s unlovable?” that’s what you asked one day to your girlfriend, obviously referring to yourself. You were expecting for her to get mad at you, but as always she didn’t. She simply looked at you with a small smile and replied almost naturally “Cause I need you.” Her answer left you speechless that time ‘She, a beautiful smart woman, needs a broken doll like me?’ How is that possible, that’s not what fairy tales say. Knights in shining armor need the love of the princess, the messy villains deserve nothing. 

I’m a short fuse

I’m a wrecking ball crashing into your heart like I do

You’re like a Sunday morning

Full of grace and full of Jesus

I wish that I could be more like you. 

Living with you is like riding an infinite rollercoaster. One moment you’re all happy and bubbly, the other one you’re angry, the next one you get all dark and twisty. But apparently Mina doesn't mind the adrenaline of this ride, even if you wouldn’t tell this. In fact, her way of being has nothing to do with yours. She’s the most calm person on the planet, she always keeps her composure and elegance in all situations.

People always say ‘Opposites attract each other’, but little do they know that, deep down all you want is to be like her. Someone normal and lovable, for once.

I don’t deserve it but I love that you love me good

Every time Mina shows her love for you that voice inside your head gets louder and reminds you that you’re not worth it. But your heart can’t do anything if not beating faster and getting all warm and bubbly due to this kind of affection.  

You may be hard to love, but you need someone that loves you good.

[arrantsnowdrop]

Informalities - Éomer x reader

Request:  “Eomer x reader fic where the reader is from our world and Eomer listens to the stories the reader says of our world and he thinks that it is a grand place and so when they are finally getting together, Eomer feels kind of insecure cuz he feels he'll never live up to the reader's "standards" and the reader says that they are insecure because he is a prince and she has nothing"

Tags: @thewhiteladyofrohan

Warnings: mention of battles and death, about 2,200 words

A/N: Hoppy Easter lads and lasses, we are back from a many month writing hiatus. Hope y’all enjoy, I’m glad to be here :)

You genuinely had no idea how you’d ended up in Middle Earth.

It was one of those fever dream situations - one moment you were falling asleep in your own bed, and the next you were waking up at the bottom of a tree, surrounded by many bearded and concerned looking men.

Of course you’d been startled and so, so confused, but it had only taken you a few moments to recognize the characters from one of your favorite stories, and then you’d fully accepted your new reality.

By the time you first encountered the fellowship, they had already lost Gandalf at Moria and passed through the realm of Lothlorien. They were traveling in their fancy elvish boats when they’d spotted you from the river. You were extremely grateful for that - who knows what would’ve happened if the Uruk-hai tracking them had found you first.

Boromir and Gimli were quite intimidated by your presence, having been brought up in traditions that designated men for warrior roles. Aragorn and Legolas were much more accepting (female elves were just as badass as any male elf or man, and both of them knew that). The hobbits had all taken an immediate liking to you, and you’d been devastated to lose them during the Uruk ambush. Of course, this only gave you a stronger drive to track them into Rohan with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

It was there that you met Éomer for the first time, after his riders surrounded your small group of assumed invaders.

He was handsome, there was no denying that, and you found his decision to protect Rohan even in exile extremely brave. He’d been startled by your presence (a group including a dwarf, an elf, AND a woman must’ve been an oddity for him), and thus had talked primarily with Aragorn, but you could not shake the way his eyes locked with yours as he offered you his condolences about Merry and Pippin.

You figured you’d never see the handsome blonde again, glumly complaining to Gimli about it several times throughout Rohan.

Thus, you’d been overjoyed when he arrived at the Battle of Helm’s Deep - half because he was saving your asses from almost certain death, and half because you’d get to see his face and hear his voice again.

You followed Aragorn after the battle, searching for Gandalf in the celebrating crowd. It did not take long, with his bright white robes being quite easy to pick out.

“Gandalf!” you screamed gleefully, weaving between the people around you to get to the smiling wizard.

“It is good to see you, (Y/n),” he said as you embraced him.

“Oh, it’s even better to see you,” you said.

“I have to agree with (Y/n),” Aragorn said from behind you. You pulled back, allowing Gandalf time to greet your friend, and quickly caught sight of a familiar face.

He had been laughing with some other men when his gaze fell on you, eyes locking with yours for the second time. You smiled a bit and offered an awkward wave, face flushing as he flashed you a smile.

“Ah, (Y/n), this is Lord Éomer, current heir to the throne of Rohan,” Gandalf said, noticing the two of you staring at each other.

“We’ve met before,” he said, walking towards you

“Indeed we have,” you replied as he stopped just in front of you. “It is a pleasure to meet you, oh-future-king,” you said, bowing a bit.

You could hear Aragorn slap his forehead from behind you and grinned.

“She’s not from around here, so do forgive her manners,” Aragorn said.

“Or lack thereof,” you added, straightening yourself once more and looking at Éomer’s amused face.

“I appreciate the informality,” Éomer grinned. You spun around and pointed at Aragorn.

“See? Someone appreciates me,” you accused.

You were extremely happy to meet Éomer. It’s not that you didn’t adore Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli, but they were also the only people you’d been around for quite a while. It was exciting to make a new friend, especially one so handsome and charismatic.

The two of you spent the entire ride to Isengard delving into each other’s lives, from childhoods to secret fears to favorite foods. Obviously, the two of you had led quite different lives, and he was fascinated by the world you had come from.

“These cars you speak of, are they like horses?” he asked.

“No, they’re much faster,” you replied. “They’re more like a carriage, since they have space for several people inside.”

“But it moves without a horse?”

“Yup!”

“Who steers in then?”

You were grinning ear to ear at the look of bewilderment on his face.

“One of the people inside,” you answered. “There’s a wheel to control which direction you go and pedals on the floor to control the speed.”

“That sounds terribly complicated,” Éomer said, brows furrowing.

“It’s not too bad,” you said, “I was even pretty good at it.”

Éomer shot you an alarmed look.

“You used to steer these...these things?” he asked incredulously. You laughed and nodded. “You have to be taught how to do it,” you explained. “It’s not like they throw you into it without any preparation.”

“It still sounds extremely dangerous,” he decided.

“I did break my arm in a crash once,” you said thoughtfully. He gasped.

“You can crash them?”

Éomer had quickly become one of your favorite people, which only made the continuous battles over the fate of Middle Earth even more stressful. You were terrified he would ride into a fight and never return, and even more terrified of what that meant.

You’d searched for him for hours after the Battle for Minas Tirith, heart growing more and more heavy as you continued. Every person you asked had no idea where he was, and by the time you returned to the White City, your hands were shaking with anxiety. Finding him outside of the makeshift infirmary that had been set up was the most relieving moment of your entire life.

You had gasped the moment you caught sight of his all too familiar golden hair, letting out a desperate sob as his eyes met yours, him rushing over to you and wrapping you in his arms. Your embrace was filled with all the emotions both of you were too terrified to say aloud.

“I thought you were dead,” you murmured into his chest, eyes wet and lips trembling.

“It will take far more than a few Oliphaunts to kill me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

You wanted nothing more than to tell him in that moment how much you loved him, but decided against it. You knew the fighting was not over, the last thing you needed was for him to be distracted by you during battle and find himself impaled with some pointy object. If you both lived to the end of this, you would tell him then.

But then you were too scared to do it.

Of course you had won - the ring had been destroyed, Aragorn had led the crusade against the forces of Mordor, and Gondor was preparing to crown its long lost king. Everyone was staying in Minas Tirith until the coronation, but then everyone was leaving. All your friends would be heading home, but you did not have one of those here in Middle Earth.

Aragorn had already offered you a place in Gondor’s leadership, and thus a permanent residence with him, and the hobbits were more than happy to escort you back to the Shire with them, but you knew both of these options would separate you from the one person you wanted to be with.

All you wanted was to follow Éomer back to Edoras, but you were unsure if that would be best for him. He was about to be crowned king of Rohan, and probably had many ladies of Rohan’s nobility lined up to rule with him. It was selfish for you to think you had any right to his heart, especially when his duties and responsibilities were so much more important than an outspoken, title-less woman.

So you distanced yourself from him. You avoided him whenever possible, taking the longest routes you could to dinners and meetings. You tried not to be affected by his desperate gaze, or the way he called for you as you rushed out of a room. It hurt you more than anything, but you knew it would be better for him in the long run. You succeeded with your plan until the night before Aragorn’s coronation.

You’d been walking home from dinner (a huge, pre-celebration feast that qualified as a celebration itself) through an old, twisty corridor. You opened the door to your room only to see Eomer sitting on your bed, a worried look on his face.

You jumped slightly, startled by his presence.

“What are you doing in here?” you said breathlessly. “This is totally an invasion of my privacy and absolutely uncalled for at such a late hour, you almost gave me a heart attack-”

“Forgive me,” he interrupted, standing up from the bed, eyes fixated on you. You both stood there in silence for some time, the closest you’d been to each other for the first time in days.

“I missed you,” he murmured finally. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You looked down at your feet and nodded. You did not want to see the look of betrayal that he was undoubtedly wearing.

“Why?” he whispered. You winced at the sound of hurt in his voice.

“You would not understand Éomer, but I promise it was in your best interest,” you replied.

“You are my best friend, (Y/n), how could ignoring me benefit me?” he asked incredulously. You looked up at him, trying to ignore the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“Éomer-”

“Please,” he cut you off desperately, slowly walking towards you. “I have missed you more than you could possibly imagine.” “That is the issue,” you whispered, closing your eyes to avoid looking at him.

“How is that an issue?” he begged.

“Because you are about to be a king,” you shouted, eyes still closed. “And you will leave after tomorrow with everyone else, back to Edoras, where new responsibilities will be awaiting you and demanding your attention.”

“How does that have anything to do with you?” he asked, voice sounding a lot closer than before. You gulped, sensing him right in front of you.

“I would be a distraction,” you replied meekly. Éomer did not reply, but instead reached to grab your hands with his own, you gasping as he pulled you into his chest.

“(Y/n), you are not a distraction, how could you-”

“I do not want you to leave me here,” you interrupted, resting your forehead against him. “I am so scared I’ll never see you again, but your life is about to be so much more important than me.”

“I do not want to leave you here,” he said, wrapping his arms around your back. “I want you to come with me. You’re my best friend, how could I abandon you?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” you whispered, “even if I were physically with you, that would not stop me from...from…”

You stopped and bit your lip, terrified of the confession about to pour out of you. Éomer moved his hand below your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

“Stop you from what?” he whispered intensely, eyes searching your face desperately. You exhaled breathily.

“I love you, Éomer,” you said softly, watching as his expression softened. “So, so much.”

He blinked once, twice, registering what you had just said, and smiled, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours.

“I love you more than anyone, (Y/n),” he murmured.

“But, surely there are women back in Rohan who are far more suitable for-”

“(Y/n),” Éomer said seriously, pulling away to look you in the eyes once more. “I have the power to be with whomever I choose.”

“But why would you choose me?” you asked meekly. Éomer chuckled, brushing a stray bit of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear tenderly. You leaned into his hand slightly, relishing in the way he cupped your face.

“I was more nervous that you wouldn’t choose me,” he admitted. You look at him in confusion.

“How could I not choose you?” you asked.

“You’re much more interesting than I am,” he shrugged. “You come from a world that is so much more exciting than mine, and the last thing I want is for you to settle for me.”

“Éomer, you stab people with swords and ride horses all day. And live in a castle. That is insanely cool,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “Of course I choose you.”

“And I choose you,” he murmured, pulling you closer to him. “Please come home with me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding fervently. “Yes, please.”

Éomer grinned, tilting your face up to his once more and leaning down to kiss you. Your heart leaped, hand reaching up to grab the back of his head to intensify the kiss. He moaned softly, bending down to pick you up and twirling you around. You giggled and pressed your nose against his.

“I’m thinking we make my coronation far less formal than Aragorn’s,” Éomer said, “as much as I’ve been loving these dinners, I don’t think I could stand hosting them.”

“You know I’m fantastic at informalities,” you replied.

[thechangeling]

But you like her better: Part 2

Sorry it's been a minute! I hope you like it.

Cw: Some brief ableism, mentions of internalized biphobia, and self injurious stimming.

2013

It was raining when 16 year old María Machado Sotomayor first met Kit Herondale.

Marí had always loved the sound of the rain. It was peaceful and rhythmic, creating a nice tingly feeling in her skull running straight down her spine. It also good for the plants. Which meant that Marí arrived (on time for once) at her favorite class in a pretty good mood.

Marine biology was their one of their three special interests, the other two being lacrosse and Base guitar. So Bio was usually pretty fun for them. However this time was different.

Her mood was instantly dampened when she walked into class and saw someone new sitting in her usually seat. A blond, short and white kid who looked far too pretty for his own good. A new kid most likely.

A new kid who didn't realize that Marí always sat by the window every single day. It was their spot. Still Marí was determined not to overreact. They marched over to the new kid  and approached him with their best masking smile.

Remember eye contact. She told herself. Keep your tone light and breezy but not too lifeless. Smile. Appear friendly and non threatening. Try not to sweat. Try not to scream.

"Hi excuse me," Marí began in a sickly sweet tone. "That's actually my seat! Sorry!"

The boy instantly looked embarrassed and apologetic. "Oh I'm sorry!" He blushed. "I didn't realize there was assigned seating." He had an American accent, California maybe?

Wonderful. A white American boy. Just what they needed.

Marí chewed their lip and fought the urge to rock or tap. "There isn't actually," they admitted. "I just usually sit there. So can you please move?"

Now the new kid looked a little offended. A cold look settled over his face. "Well why should I?" He bristled. "This seat isn't really yours. It's not like it has your name on it."

Marí rolled her eyes in frustration. "I tried that already but then I got in trouble."

He stared at them curiously for a moment. Marí took the opportunity to break eye contact finally and scuff their heel against the floor. They were wearing the new black suede chunky heels with the gem stones that Marí had gotten when they went thrifting with their friends.

"María!" The harsh voice of her teacher snapped her back into reality. Everyone had arrived and taken their seats while she was arguing with the American and now everyone was staring at her. "Could you please explain why you are not seated young lady?" She snapped in her extra pretentious sounding posh English accent.

The one that said, "I'm better than you."

Marí tried not to growl at being called a young lady. They weren't feeling particularly female today. Not that Marí was going to bother explaining that to some old British hag.

"He won't get out of my seat!" Marí protested. Instantly laughter broke out around the classroom. Cruel mocking laughter that made Marí feel like her skin was crawling.

"It's ok!" The new kid cried out, practically jumping out of Marí's seat. "I'll move! I'll go sit over here." He grabbed his bag and moved to the back of the room as quickly as possible.

Marí smiled in spite of themself. His random act of kindness was surprising, but they were grateful. They took their seat near the window and sighed in relief.

Marí would always look back on that day with fondness no matter what. It may not have seemed like much to him, but it meant the world to her. After Bio class she had asked Kit to come eat with her and her friends. They had made their introductions and the rest was history.

They became close friends very quickly, bonding over movies and music. They sent each other playlists of their favorite songs and songs that reminded them of each other. Marí made Kit a queer playlist with songs by queer artists and told Kit that they were bisexual and a demigirl. They hadn't even told their friends that last part yet at that point.

Marí also told Kit that they liked to use she/they pronouns, but so far was only using them online. Kit asked Marí a lot of questions then confessed to Marí that he was also bisexual but he was still kinda getting used to it.

"I grew up in a shitty situation," Kit had told them. "I guess I still have a lot of shame."

Marí didn't hold it against him. She bought him queer literature and resources for queer history including "Bisexuality and Queer Theory" and her printed copy of the article published in the 90s called "The Bisexual Manifesto." She gave him advice on websites and people to follow online.

They also just talked. Talked about life and their experiences. Their feelings and their relationships with their sexualities. Bonding with another queer person was always special but spending time with Kit always made Marí feel so...light.

Despite how close they were getting, Marí didn't always want to touch him. They were touch averse in most cases unless they were very comfortable with someone. Sometimes it just depended on the day. On the days where Marí found they could not hug Kit they had invented their own way to show affection.

They would place a hand over their hearts and tap it, as if to say "I care about you" or "I love you." Sometimes Kit would say "tap my heart" as a substitute for actually doing it.

He introduced her to his close friend Janessa, the wayward vampire who was incredibly hot and kind of made Marí all nervous and tounge twisty at first. But as they got to know her, Marí realized that she was also incredibly kind, passionate and clearly cared at great deal about Kit. Janessa was a gamer who had named herself after a video game character. She drank cups of warm blood in novelty mugs with giant swirly sparkly straws and was pretty good at making people laugh.

Janessa, or Nessie as Kit had affectionately nicknamed her, was flirtatious and charismatic, but also brutal and deadly in a fight. She was full of surprises. And maybe, just maybe Marì was a little bit into that.

However as much as Marí didn't want to admit it, they were also were starting to realize that they were way more into someone else. Someone with perfect golden curls that Marí wanted to curl their fingers into.

Eventually Kit came out to Marí as genderfluid and requested that she use alternating he/they pronouns for them. They both made the decision to collectively tell their friends their pronouns. Marí, Kit and Nessie sat around her gorgeous leather couch and talked for hours about gender, identity and transness. Kit pointed put that they may never be able to fully explain their gender to the other two, just like Kit might have a hard time fully understanding Janessa's relationship with gender, or Marí's because everyone was different.

"It's personal Nessie," he had said. "Everyone has their own unique perspective on gender and every trans person has their own complicated feelings about gender and what their own gender identity means to them, and those feelings might not completely match up with another trans person's. But that's ok. You don't have to understand the other person but you do have to respect them."

Janessa's understanding of gender came from being a trans women. It was about a strict  binary with clear lines and rules. Rules that Kit was starting to make a habit of fingerpainting all over and Marí could tell that it was stressing her out.

And Marí had no idea where the hell they fit in these rules. They had stopped playing the game.

But those two loved each other more than anything, and Marí knew they could work anything out. And sure enough approximately seven hours and four margaritas later (only two for Marí,) they had come to an understanding.

2014

She kissed Kit for the first time a month into the new year.

They had been trying on clothes in Marí's room and Kit was wearing one of their old dresses that Marí thought they looked amazing in, but Kit wanted to give it away. It was dark navy blue and sparkly with spaghetti straps, coming to about mid thigh. There were cut outs on the sides, filled in with black sheer fabric, and it had a low v cut at the neckline which was also filled in with black sheer.

Kit had been infodumping about one of the Marvel movies again, Marí couldn't remember which one, and she had kept getting distracted by his tan smooth skin peaking through the sheer fabric and fullness of Kit's moving lips. He smiled excitedly and Marí had stepped forward and kissed him.

Their first thought was that Kit tasted like chocolate. Their second was that they should have done this months ago.

Kit had melted into the kiss, smiling slightly against her mouth and pulling her closer. They kissed her feverishly, sliding their tounge inside Marí's mouth and moaning when she deepened the kiss eagerly. They moved against each other with almost lazy, comfortable precision, kissing each other for what could have been hours or days or maybe only seconds.

Marí couldn't have said.

When Kit finally broke the kiss and pulled away from Marí, his eyes were practically gleaming with joy and love. And that was when they knew.

I love him.

2015

I love him.

Ty's words ran in her ears. Repeating over and over again, maddenly bouncing around inside of her skull until she was forced to utter out loud,

"I love him".

They whispered it under their breath but Marí could tell that both Alyssa and Ty had heard them. It was so quiet you could probably hear a pin drop.

But of course. Of course he does. It was obvious. This whole time Marí had noticed there was something wrong with Ty. Just like there was something wrong with Kit. The way they stared after each other when they thought the other one wasn't looking. The loving and worshipful glances mixed with the bitter glares.

Marí had already known that Kit was in love with Ty of course. But the way they had told the story made it seem like they were positive that Ty couldn't be in love with them.

But then again maybe that made sense. Given Kit's history and who he was. But then Marí couldn't help but think of Ty and how confused he must have been. God it was a giant mess.

Speaking of...

The room was still silent. Marí found that she couldn't read Ty's expression as he stared back at her flatly. But his body was shaking, his fingers fluttered at his sides. She wanted to soothe him.

They stepped forward carefully. "I'm not mad at you," Marí assured him. "I was hoping we could talk?"

Ty's left eye twitched. "We are talking," he pointed out. Alyssa snorted.

"Ty, they mean about the proverbial bomb you just dropped a few seconds ago," Alyssa said with a laugh.  Marí smirked to themself slightly.

It wasn't really a bomb. More like a flare.

She really needed to talk to Ty. The only problem was Alyssa had an annoying tendency to never leave his side. It wasn't like she had a problem with the girl. Of course not. But her presence meant that Marí hadn't had the opportunity to talk to Ty one on one.

They cleared their throat. "Alyssa could you please give Ty and I some space to talk?" They asked. Marí hoped they didn't sound too rude. Alyssa looked to Ty and he nodded slightly, signaling that he was ok with her leaving.

That was so strange to Marí. Their relationship. The way Alyssa, a werewolf who hated shadowhunters even more then Marí did, essentially took orders from him and clearly trusted him more than anyone else. But perhaps she wasn't one to judge.

After all, she loved Kit.

Alyssa left the room with a pat on Ty's back and a quick, "call if you need me." Marí shifted their weight back and forth as they rocked slightly from side to side as they waited for Ty to speak.

He stared back at her silently, most likely doing the same. Marí blew out a loud breath and forced herself to stay still, crossing her arms.

"Are you going to say something or should I?" Ty asked expectantly. Marí bit their lip and shrugged.

"I'm still thinking of what I wanna say," she admitted.

Ty smiled at her softly. "So am I."

There we go. Cracks in the armour.

"I'm sorry," Ty whispered suddenly. "I never meant to-"

"You don't have to apologize!" Marí blurted out. Whoops they had interrupted him. "Oh shit sorry you were still talking!" They reached for their hair nervously and realized that they were wearing that Morticia wig for their costume.

Great. Marí moved on to chewing on her knuckles.

"It's ok," Ty reassured her. "I don't really know where I was going with that sentence. And you shouldn't do that." He pointed to her hand.

Marí scoffed, "yeah well you shouldn't dig your nails into your palms." He glared at them and they laughed.

"Not so fun playing a game of Mirror Image is it?" They teased. Ty didn't respond, just stared at Marí solemnly.

"You know I really admire you," he said, aiming his gaze close enough to hers to create the illusion of eye contact. "I always have. I never wanted to hurt or upset you."

Marí wished for a brief moment that they could touch him and then shrugged the impulse off. "I know love," they cooed. "Me too."

Without really understanding why, she pressed her hand to her chest directly above her heart and tapped, just like how she did with Kit. Ty studied Marí for a moment and then followed suite.

Marí in spite of themself, actually felt bad for him. They could clearly see the toll the last three years had taken on him, specifically the last few weeks. Maybe his family couldn't see it, and they definitely knew that Kit couldn't, but Marí could.

Marí of all people could see past the mask because they knew what masking looked like. It wasn't just about appearing normal, whatever that word meant. It was about hiding your feelings. Taking that heart you wore on your sleeve and locking it up tight. But everytime Marí looked at Ty, they could see it. And it was bleeding.

Ripped and bloody and broken, just like her own and yet they both still had the sheer audacity to keep breathing. Marí was proud of them both.

"You need to talk to him," Marí prompted. "You both need to be honest with each other."

Ty furrowed his brow. "Honest? About what? He doesn't feel the same way." He had gone back to flicking his fingers as he stared at her, looking puzzled.

Bloody hell between the two of them, Kit and Ty were giving Marí the mother of all headaches.

They took a deep breath. "Yes they do Ty," Marí tried not to sound exasperated. "Kit is in love with you, believe me. They told me."

It hurt Marí's heart to have to say it, but it was true and Ty deserved to know the truth. And they knew deep down that Kit wouldn't really be happy, he wouldn't be Kit until he had Ty. And Marí had to make their peace with that.

Ty looked understandably confused. He ran a frantic hand through his hair. "But why are you telling me this? Why are you helping me?" He asked. "Don't you love them?"

She fought the urge to cry as tears gathered in her eyes. She found herself digging her nails into her palms despite chastising Ty for doing it a few minutes ago.

"I'm telling you all of this because I love them" she cried desperately. "Because Kit cries out your name in his sleep Ty! Because everytime he sees you, he stares at you like you are the moon the sun and the stars! Because everytime you speak they hang onto absolutely every word, and when you laugh-" Marí cut herself off.

They squeezed their eyes shut and took deep long breaths. Ty said nothing. Marí opened their eyes to see Ty staring at them in dismay. He looked like he was trying to think of what to say to help.

Marí shook their head. "I know Kit loves me. And they probably always will. We were close friends even before we started dating." Marí groaned and shook out their entire body this time, jumping up and down a few times as well to get rid of the tension. If Ty thought this was weird he didn't comment on it.

Marí wiped her eyes carefully trying not to smudge her mascara. "But you Ty?" His eyes refocused on her again at the sound of his name. Marí chuckled humourlessly. "Fucking hell, he is in love with you. And right now he is thinking that you hate him and I know it's tearing him up inside."

Ty stared at Marí hopelessly, looking overwhelmed and exhausted. "So what do I do then? What am I supposed to say?"

Marí shrugged. "I can't help you with that I'm sorry. It has to come from you." Ty looked even more panicked.

They gave him what they hoped was an encouraging smile. "Don't be scared Ty," they murmered. "It's Kit remember. They're not scary. You have nothing to worry about."

Ty didn't answer her. He had wrapped his arms around his body, squeezing tightly. "Marí do you remember those dead moon jellyfish we buried on the beach?" He asked.

She was a little confused as to why he was bringing this up now. "Yeah? Why?"

"That's what I feel like right now," Ty admitted. "Like I've washed up on the beach and now I'm just waiting for someone to come along and step on me."

Marí's heart sank. "Oh Ty," they breathed. "I promise that won't happen with Kit. I can't make any promises for anyone else, but I do know that Kit has absolutely no intention of hurting you again love."

Ty looked pensive. Marí could only hope that Ty would make the decision to trust them.

With a sudden jolt Marí remembered the party.

"Hey we still have the Halloween party to go to," she said, shaking Ty out of his stupor. "Do you still wanna go?"

To their surprise, Ty nodded. "Sure. I think Alyssa might kill me if I back out now."

Marí snorted. Alyssa Reyes could be pretty terrifying at times.

With surprise Marí found that their spirts were lighter having cleared the air with Ty and with the prospect of a party being renewed.

She smiled. "All right then let's head out!" Marí smoothed down the long black wig over her shoulders and quickly smoothed out the long skirt of her black slinky dress before turning and exiting the training room.

She knew that she would have to talk to Kit at some point and that conversation would be brutal. But at least they could have one last night together.

It's better this way. Marí told themself as they walked back towards the main living room where everyone was gathered.  At least now Kit can be happy.

It's for the best.

It has to be.

So I'm actually planning on writing a part 3 from Kit's pov because the drama isn't over yet! 😏

Tag list: lmk if you wanna be added/removed.

@playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies   @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @hardlymatters @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @tired-vin @phoenix-and-dragon @the-blackdale @adoravel-fenomeno @the-wckd-powers

[onewomancitadel]

Well, I guess now I've mentioned Darklina, I'll mention that I enjoy reading fic of the pairing quite a bit, since there are a lot of talented authors in the fandom.

I really enjoy banalityofweevil's work, particularly Transfer Principle, which I find very invigorating but also quite a bit of fun - she's got a talent for dynamic character and dynamic character interactions, the tension of the first meeting is just stellar.

I'll also say that second language acquisition by her is also such a good time, and it's a rarepair (Josephine/Cullen from Dragon Age) but it's totally believable. It's rated Explicit. If you read it and enjoy it, I'm sure the author would love a comment! It has less than 300 views, and whilst I wouldn't want to put pressures on numbers, I think the author would probably love the attention. (: banalityofweevil has a talent for making a thousand words feel like ten thousand.

There's another Darklina fic by her which is tagged Underage, and I do not read Underage fics, but I read the Author's Note (since I got an email notif for it) and I don't think it's actually Underage. I didn't want to dispute that in the comments, but if you're cautious or avoidant like me, I thought that might be helpful to share - especially since the setting is so interesting and twisty-turny. (To explain, it's a medieval Chinese setting, Alina is a few years older than fifteen, her coming of age, from what I can recall, and if something is tagged Underage I usually take it to be rather extreme. This is where overtagging can be a problem imo, because I think Underage should be reserved for... underage fics, but I understand the caution and don't resent the author for it).

Anyway, her other Darklina fic series with demon!Aleksander and angel!Alina is like a sugar rush from fairy floss.

I don't generally make a habit of recommending fic on my blog because I don't want anybody to feel left out, but I figured it was about time I mentioned my side affair with Darklina (I read more fic for it than Reylo... which is bizarre) and an author I'm very fond of.

Overall I would say that the fanon of Darklina (mean man/powerful girl) is actually quite a good time, and the authors of the fandom are unafraid to Do Their Own Thing, which I categorically find very interesting. Games is one of those that leaves you wondering what sort of ending she'll commit to - there's no guaranteed happy ending, you have to work it out from what the work is saying.

I would say that this is probably what makes banalityofweevil an author I especially admire, because she's very committed to Her Thing - the construction of her prose, the twisty-turny narrative, the way her characterisation isn't straightforward or bland and the story doesn't think you're dumb but it's not something overly cynical, either. It's a very delicate balance to strike.

Darklina is a much darker pairing than I am usually interested in, but the execution of it by the authors is really interestng. Darklina is in that complicated territory of lovers-to-enemies - if anything, it scratches that itch Solavellan does as opposed to anything else. It's not a traditional enemies-to-lovers dynamic which - er - ironically enough I rather consider to be tonally much, much lighter.