You're welcome back another day if that's too much right now.
I.
It’s fall of 2015.
You and your virgin college friends drink shitty cocktails called the “Slutty Will Rodgers.” They’re just Pepsi rawdogged with indeterminate amounts of grenadine and Captain Morgan. When you bought the mixers a Wal-Mart stocker yodeled “OOOOoOoooOH, maKIN sOMe DRINKS?!?!” and you knew it was time to leave.
We Love Katamari is on the Telly. It’s a sweet, trippy game you first bought to cope with high school. On Dark Fridays at 1am, when your inbox was barren and your balls were full, you’d drive to the empty gym downtown and sprint six miles. Then you’d come home and replay the firefly level until you fell asleep with your pug.
Your college friends are bad at the game, so they pass the controller. You’re playing the underwater stage. A spaceman falls in the pond of people gunk and stacked crabs. It’s going really well if you’re honest. You point to the screen and say “this’ll be Florida if Trump wins.” See Fig. 1.
Figure 1: Rick Desantis has big plans for Disney.
Your friends don’t reply because they soon won’t be virgins and their tongues battle each other’s. It’s a different game they play, one with fuzzier rules, but greater industry respect. You wish the campus gym was open 24/7.
. . .
Your skills as the prince are not inherent. You first meet him in 2005, when your dyspraxic hands can barely tie a shoe. Your parents catch you lose shit for the Toonami review of Me and My Katamari. They buy it for Christmas, hoping to steady your nerves while your father’s in therapy.
Dr. Flam is a Neo-Freudian hitched to your mom’s guy, Dr. Flim. She’s deep in your dad’s dream journal and makes him watch movies like Cool Hand Luke to really reign in his ego. He gets the DVDs from the Netflix site, then through the mail. As a family you watch your dad’s therapy films and reruns of Inyuasha.
In the waiting room you barely navigate the sticky ball through Namco Bandai’s Satoshi Kon parade. See Fig. 2. You’ve only seen adults express anger verbally, so when you mess up you grunt a lot and let out those Leopold Butters Stotch swears like “crap,” “shoot,” and “gosh darn.” You’re not particularly self-aware, so you probably just say “god fucking damn it” a few times and don’t remember. Years later you realize there was probably a secretary behind the glass watching you do all this.
Figure 2: Bwahbwahwabhbawahbwaaaaah.
Sometimes there’s a girl in the room with you, just around your age. She’s stuck while Dr. Flim teaches her mom about what dream snakes mean for her fear of male puberty. That's what he did for your mom, anyway.
You think the waiting-room stranger is cute, but you won’t admit you like girls yet, especially not to yourself. To cope with the cognitive dissonance, you do your weird shit louder while refusing to make eye contact with her. If you get real stressed you crank up the main menu track and yell “ahhhhh that’s so relaxing” while the “nah nah nah nahs” play through your headphones.
At one point the girl stands against a wall and stares at you with her arms crossed. You bet she thinks you’re cool, but she’s probably just annoyed and hopes you’ll notice, or maybe just ask if she’s OK. It’s probably good you don’t talk with her. You might ask something stupid, like if she's seen the roach corpse in the stairwell. It’s been there for a year straight, isn’t that crazy?
For better and worse, you power through your little game alone. Every time you lose the King of All Cosmos beats, shoots, and belittles you. See Fig. 3. It reminds you of when your own dad shattered your Harry Potter wand over the kitchen counter because you dropped a mini pizza.
Figure 3: The King of All Cosmos offers little constructive advice, all things considered.
You fail quite frequently. Eventually you drop the game because it’s getting stressful and you have the power to relieve yourself of the situation—not the Freudian lobby, just your fake dad.
II.
It’s 2012. PlayStation Network uploads The Prince’s primeval outing: Katamari Damacy. Within, Padre Cosmotic flaps his gums over too much hooch then slams his dump truck ass through the better part of our solar system. He dislodges every recognized constellation and even the moon itself.
Cosmos sends Prince to Earth—the last brick left in the shitstorm—to make slop of our planet and bodies. With the slop space itself will be made anew. The Good Son does as he's told, and every living entity experiences euphoric ego death within the bulbous heaven of the Katamari.
As a Real Gamer Teen you lose a lot less in this one. You really go in and fix Fake Dad’s mistakes, no problem at all. This is why a year ago you hailed “gaming journalism” as your calling. You write clean and play tight; should keep the lights on. It’s the most concrete idea you’ve had since 7th grade when you outlined a YA novel called Tooth Pocket. Even you didn’t think Scholastic would buy that one, though. It was just too hot for the book fair.
One day you’re cranking through FFVI and your real dad swings by, mad you're young. He grills your ass and says “I bet you can’t even tell me the biggest thing happening right now.” It’s some real “What’s a gallon of milk cost?” shit, he could mean anything.
Surprisingly, you can’t think of a good answer. You and your friends are actually pretty informed because John Stewart is still at the desk and y’all chime in every day. See Fig. 4. You also spend hours each week tearing through MSN slideshows in your Graphic Design class because the Photoshop takes five minutes. You’ve seen a staggering amount of the Syrian civil war.
Figure 4: Sometimes in Snapchat you draw glasses on your cat to make him look like Mitch McConnel. You wouldn't do that without this guy.
Still, you’re a little stumped. It’s the middle of a phenomenon native to moralist presidencies known as "a slow news week.” You actually ran out of war shit the other day and clicked through some slides about Pakistani wrestlers. The seniors who offered you Jack Daniels in the Whataburger lot saw it and laughed. They thought you were peeping dong in class. You really weren’t, but they didn’t believe you. They graduate certain you were bricked up in the Dell Lab over big guys in spandex.
“I don’t know,” you tell your dad.
He throws his hands behind his head, hard, like an orangutan chucking logs at a poacher.
“It’s the fucking carbon tax,” he yells. This comes as a surprise, you think, because that shit is last month’s news. It really didn’t go anywhere.
“Do you not pay attention because you don’t give a shit, or are you just a nihilist and think you can’t do anything?” You can tell in his eyes he thinks there’s a real answer. “Seriously, which is it?
You don’t remember what you said. You probably just stammered until he walked off.
A month later he picks you up from marching band. Your phone is dead, so he had to wait twenty minutes longer than anticipated while you found his car. He punches the rearview mirror until the windshield cracks then screams of how your birth kept him from New England.
III.
It’s 2016. A rockin’ MILF in the Psych department gets you really into Hamilton. See Fig. 5. Every day you wake up on the grind and blast “You Aaron Burr, sir?” through your shitty 7-11 cans. While cramming foreign language Quizlets and McGraw Hill Online you do this thing called “Hafilton.” It’s where rock up to “Nonstop” and quit listening just before Hamilton decides what he will stop is being a good husband.
Figure 5: Like Kojima, you know "MILF" is a mindset, not a factual inquiry.
It’s 2018. Your grades are notably better and you’ve snuck into the honors program. Like Hamilton himself, you really flourished at 19 and thought about running for office. You immediately abandoned this idea after remembering your allergy to recordings of your image or voice.
You cohabit with the Psych MILF, and she offers some advice: she’s really had her boots on the ground with this whole “clinical psych thing” and honestly, respectfully, she loves you, but dear God it might not be your scene. It’s taken a real toll on her and the friends, and she can’t imagine you going through that shit.
At 1am in your living room you boot up DOOM (2016) and listen through some Hamilton. Angelica is thirsty on main when you remember that you, yourself, could be a lawyer. You don’t have to run for Congress to fight the establishment. There’s just the common law, and it’s right there. You can just get your grubby little hands in that shit and work your magic.
. . .
It’s the last semester of undergrad. Your Western Thought professor says Hamilton wasn’t really a huge deal and really James Madison shat out the big parts of our faction-proof empire. Yes, there was, in fact, a civil war, but the caplock rifle worked it out. After the Federalist papers he has you read the Bill of Rights but no Supreme Court cases. There’s a lot of talk on negative liberties.
Just before finals, the learned doctor says your generation only has two things to worry about: the climate and the poverty. Yeah they’re big, he says, but they’re just two things. You’re crafty kids, smart as the framers, even.
. . .
The state decides law school is your jam and lets you come inside.
There’s the negative liberties but you actually read Supreme Court opinions when the big boys aren’t shaking fists for Valley Forge. They have you listen to Hamilton for context. You feel dirty. An LRW professor puts on the “I’m Just a Bill” video and your sectionmate with Ivy degrees gets really, really mad.
. . .
The Federalist Society has a comfy presence at your law school. Along with Big Oil they sling out free pizza to every Little Scalia with a rumbly tum tum.
On your way to class you hear what the pizza boys feel. They hate Europeans, those social democrats with the rotten armories and clumpy cash. The Euros, they think, give too much wiggle room for the mentally ill, and by that they mean they mean gay people and probably just women overall.
There are more than two things to fix, you think.
. . .
The pandemic hits. You and some pals start a Google Doc to stay afloat. It barely works. In the Zoom review for the property final your professor catches multiple people crying. "You don't have to be here," he tells them, “there are other jobs.”
. . .
A year passes. You’re in a niche public interest class you do all right with. The professor looks you and thirty-five others dead in the eye and says how sorry he is that law school is traumatic. You shed a single tear in your little window. You're pretty in the shit and haven’t worn pants to class in months.
Then public interest prof takes a big, big drag from his long, fat spliff. He spins his desk chair and baseball cap at the same time, never letting go of the joint.
“Hey,” he says. “It’s not your fault, really, but the world is fucked. It’s time to fix what your parents did.”
The next week he gives a practice exam where the best solution is to sell an old lady’s house to Nestlé.
IV.
It’s 2022. After throwing your whole gooch at it, you fail the bar exam.
You fall back hard into exercise. When you’re not slamming Barbri you’re at the gym binging curls and cranking the Chainsaw Man soundtrack. One night on the way to squats you finally hear “Black Parade.” Just like you, Mr. Gerry Wayland is stuck between global disrepair and the desire to write Funny Little Books.
You just started an FLB yourself, actually. It’s spin on a Story Break episode you love. In your version there’s a fucked up civil war horse that moves like a spider and is covered in bugs. Rich people kill the planet then the horse gets lost in space. It’s compelling, you promise. There’s body horror and pirates dressed like Gorton’s Fisherman. See Fig. 6 It’s about the horrors of the contemporary world state. It’ll be fun.
Figure 6: An untapped horror icon. Imagine blood contrasting that yellow.
Big problem, though: you remember rich people love hiking. There’s no grass on Mars, not that good shit anyway. Would they really fuck all of it?
You edit. In the last few years, the real breathless ones, the oligarchs cash their tab. A cartel, they think, could really muscle those stragglers, the tragically common. There’s one city left with both breathable air and refugees. They level it. The few survivors are spread amongst the stars, so their loves and languages may die.
. . .
It’s the middle of Bar Prep Round 2. You and the patient MILF see Hadestown in the Big City.
There’s a juke joint on stage flanked by devil trombones. A sad little guy slinks in from the janitor’s closet. His name is Orpheus and, just like you, he’s a sad, short writer who likes a lady so much it comes out weird. He has a vision, he says, for a little ditty. It’s compelling, he promises, and shit’s gonna change. His love is functional and realized, worth the investment of a hardened woman displaced by capital’s torture. She believes him.
You cry because you know where this goes.
It’s just a single tear.
Don’t worry.
Nobody sees.
. . .
There’s this game you like, by some corporate anarchists who hate themselves. They’re Scandinavian, from the spot in Tallin where you stopped for a cruise. Every gift shop there had swastikas and gas masks leftover from the bloody years.
In the game is a liberal yacht MILF. She thinks you’re stupid but someone’s helping with your gun, so you’ve got that on her. And yet, she pins you, re your whole writing thing. See Fig. 7.
Figure 7: She sucked, but it still hurt when she left.
Your favorite Supreme Court podcast says the ocean’s last hope is other countries. But those countries’ people cry to the Disco game, and their ministers also bought The End of History. You meet them on the subreddit. You're all geeked out, waiting for the tide.
. . .
It’s the era of desert cradles. God thinks you’re disgusting, so he sends his better kids with a memo: the flood was too much work on his end, it’s time for something different.
“Just keep walking,” he says.
Your skin bares his figure. So do the corpses. You little birds among billions, gassed out and screaming, move to clean.
V.
It’s 2023.
We Love Katamari is up on the PlayStation store. You sit with the cats and mow down some crabs. You don’t need it so much these days, but it’s nice.
There’s a Bar card in your wallet, just below your gym tag. There are two interviews in your Google Calendar. Good stuff might happen, hopefully soon. You crawl into bed and wrap an arm around your wife’s rib cage.
I took a step back. I could feel the branches and leaves behind me. I NEVER thought to trapped in a bushes’ dead end in my whole life.
Space grinned, pulling out a gun of his galaxy clothe, looked at me.
“oOoOh gosh! I’m so scared! I need a prince Charming but if you dare to shoot me!” I grinned back and closed my eye.
“HAHAHAHAHA!!! Do you think I’m scared of you, poor star guy? I’ve been waiting…” he laughed loudly.
“I’ve been waiting to get revenge of you… cause what you’ve done with my dear Bee…” He took my chin and looked at me with wild eyes.
“Space!” Now Bee reached to us, shouted.
“Aha! It seems like a big request. Do you want to wish for it?” I said carelessly.
“HAH- “Space was confused.
Suddenly, Cardamon jump at him and hit him with his hammer hardly, now our Space was dead frog on the floor.
“Go!!!” Cardamon shouted at me.
At that moment, Space dropped his white gun on the ground, it transformed to a wand and he threw Cardamon down by that. His wand this time transformed to a truncheon and they fought to each other.
“ oh yeah? You want me to be a fair-weather friend?” I opened my eye.
“I said, go!” Cardamon kept fighting with Space.
“see? I always want to be a good friend but you don’t believe me!” I smiled!
“GO AWAY!!!!” Both of them screamed at me.
I took a deep breath and left them behind, and left the maze, too.
There were so many skyscrapers, so many high speed cars, so many traffic… and so many luxury market too. And I could see Loop, Deckard and Howell in the sidewalk.
“where is Cardamon?” Deckard frowned.
“He’s talking to our dear commander; I guess he’ll be enjoying it~” I smirked.
“huh? W-What do you mean-“Loop were scared.
“well, guys, since Cardamon and I are veryyyyyyyyy close friends so he said that I am the boss now. You will obey whatever I want!” I ignored the Loop’s question.
“NO WAY.” Deckard frowned.
“HECK YEAH! We still in danger about that crazy inventor but a handsome, gay spaceman is fallowing us too for now, so…”
“ RUN!!” I screamed.
We were in surrounding again, so we all ran to some safe place. But where? I looked at the markets carefully. All them had bad smell, like, customary, profiteer and traitor… I could see just one place for a safe hiding and that was a library. A library could save our life’s but the librarian was closing the library. She had a dark skin and beautiful purple hair.
I used my latest power, with help from stars teleported on girl’s body and threw her on the ground.
“H-HEY!” she was terrified.
My friends entered to the library and Loop shout the door quickly, we all dropped in the dark.
“As I was saying, nothing bad happened if you obey me!” I smiled wildly.
“Go away! You are heavy!” the girl punched me.
I laughed, stood up, and walked toward the shelfs. There were too dark but our body have a soft light so we could almost saw around.
“They will find us They will find us They will find us…” Loop whispered.
I was looking at some books in shelfs, and threw them on the ground.
“Don’t worry, my dumb friend. If they’ll figure out we are here, never coming for searching into a LIBRARY!”
“Hey, keep respect! And, don’t do mess! These books have been entrusted to me!!” the girl frowned too.
“easy peasy beautiful, you have to thanks the stars, your pity miserable life will be blessing!!!” I threw some books again.
The girl looked at me.
“ we can make your wish comes true!” I blinked at her and picked up another book.
“NOT EVERY WISH!” Howell grumped at me.
“But if we can do hers? Owww! This one have pictures!” and I threw it to Loop’s head,
“Y-You mean... my wish… can… comes… true?” she said as I gone toward the librarian desk and was touching every single thing on the desk.
“yep my dear, why not- ouch!!!!” I got my hand. Something sharp scratched my black glove and now it was bleeding some sticky, sparkling liquid.
She came to me and held me back.
“Don’t touch that! This is a cutter! Here. UM... Take my handkerchief!!” she got me a white handkerchief, that has a wired embroidered.
“well… I wishing for my mother come back to me…” she said.
“WOW!! Such a great wish! But, where is she now?” I cleaned my hand with her handkerchief.
“ she passed away.” A big white star went out of her chest and shined.
“well, Hehehehehehe…” I smiled nervously.
The others looked at me angrily.
“You know what? We can’t make it true for now buuuut someday- Mayyyyybe- “ I laughed a little but it warped up with voice of the moomins. “open it! We know you are here!”
“Siffrin!” Loop shouted.
“I’m sorry my lady, but…” I smiled as I holding her wish’s star in my hands.
“It’s time to RUN!!” I crushed it in my hands, it helped us to teleported somewhere far away.
****
“Sasha? Look at me, Sasha!”
Librarian girl was in panic. She was crying, screaming. She couldn’t see anybody else. Mr. Petrikov had bad feeling to left her alone in library. Not for the books mess, just because she was hurted and he was not there to help.
Moomins were searching the library carefully and the First Aid Kit was not going to help Sasha. Mr. Petrikov lost his hope soon and rubbed his head.
“Her wish star is crushed.” A cold voice said.
“Mr. Bird! It’s midnight time! What are you doing here?” Simon stood up respectfully.
“sorry about this mess… the books are everywhere… what a shame…” he looked at around.
“Don’t bother yourself, Dear Simon. I not here for borrowing books.” Bird smiled at him.
He took some step forward; he wanted to touch her but Simon got his arm.
“Sasha. is not good… I don’t know what happened to her…”
“But I KNOW. Let me help you.” Bird pulled him away.
He bended on Sasha and got her chin tightly, it made her to screaming louder. He feed Sasha some kind of drug that was like a gummy bear. Finally, Sasha gulped it.
She got calm little by little and got deep breath.
“Thank you Mr. Bird…” Simon Said.
Bird smiled and went to the door, but before that held Simon's shoulder.
“I know you like to thank me, Petrikov. If you finds out about that star guys you can tell me first.”
Sword training for the kids (human)
@ennonymous-twink
@mrazfellco (if available)
Music
@magicaltrevah (harpsichord, cotillion ball backing tracks)
Tom Cardy
Monty Python minstrel group including the Pied Piper
David Tennant singing under the shower
Photography
Furfur (@crrrowley)
@greatsouthernpansy
Wedding Gardener and florist
A certain Anthony J. Crowley (tbc)
Security
@bagelofchaos (Security Director, trained in jiu jitsu)
@greatsouthernpansy (Assistant Security Director)
@helphowdoiusethis (Assistant to the Assistant Security Director, will get drunk and dance on the table)
@raven-hellish-imp
@b1mbap-b3b0p
@snedbee
@professional-termite (destroyed @pret-a-metatron the Metatron's café)
@janeway-lover
@iceeericeee
@sparrowsortadrawzzz
@sparkly-s0da
as tagged by @ranchthoughts, @twig-tea, and @troubled-mind! thank u everyone 💜🥰
do you make your bed? literally never!
what's your favourite number? 52. i picked it as a child and i don't remember why, but it pleases me still
what is your job? i'm a humble lil grocery store employee
if you could go back to school, would you? if i could quit my job and go to school and still have my same money, then yes, i should think so, but that's super not happening! it might be nice to have a second degree. i think history would be fun
can you parallel park? yes i can! i used to have to do it every day to park in front of my last house. >:c
a job you had that would surprise people? i think all of my jobs have been either rather generic or right on the nose for what people would expect of me so probably not. i was a nighttime gas station attendant for a fair bit of college, which could be a surprise i guess? everyone always goes ":0 but werent you scared????" and like, no, not most of the time, but sometimes you do it scared yknow
do you think aliens are real? yes, but real in a way that there are many real things i can't see and don't understand (protons, gender, etc)
can you drive a manual car? i could do that once and probably still can, but it's been a long long time since i practiced
what's your guilty pleasure? as far as media goes, i do my very best not to have things like this. if i feel bad about liking it i generally do not like it for very long. i would say the closest is being into kpop, but it's not like i keep that a secret, i just dont really want to engage with kpop fandom, so i dont often post or talk about it publicly. a real guilty pleasure is that i like cherry pepsi too much
tattoos? i have one; he's on my left forearm & he's an abstract little spaceman with a fern for a head. i call him my cosmonaut. i have plans for more but i never have the time or money lately
favorite color? we know this one already surely. 💜
favorite type of music? ohh, i don't like to discriminate hehe. my very favoritest songs usually have fun harmony or funky rhythms, though, and it's best if i can sing along
do you like puzzles? sure! i used to have a book of fairy puzzles when i was a kid that i love dearly even now
any phobias? i am afraid of all bugs, but i can be a grownup about most kinds of them. i Cannot be a grownup about moths or centipedes, which i am terrified of (using those words will cause this post to be filtered for me on tumblr). i try not to kill them if i can avoid it, since it isnt their fault i'm like this, but i,,, i really can't, i'm useless if i see one. when id find centipedes in my room at my last house i wouldnt be able to sleep.
favorite childhood sport? i did tennis all of middle and high school, explicitly because of ryoma echizen prince of tennis lol. i was on varsity! i also figure skated as a kid. both are still fun when i get the chance
do you talk to yourself? oh yes all the time. i keep odd hours so i used to accidentally wake my roommate cause i just kind of absentmindedly chatter abt everything
what movies do you adore? i am not really a movie person if i'm perfectly honest; i don't watch them often as an adult. from my childhood my favorite movies were kenneth branagh much ado about nothing, the princess bride, pokemon 2000, and return of the king
coffee or tea? neither, i dont like most hot drinks. apple cider is ok now and again but i usually drink it cold, and im horribly picky about hot chocolate
first thing you wanted to be growing up? i changed this answer all the time as a kid and i have records of me doing so in my old notebooks lol! answers i know about include "pilot", "author", "dragon", and "eowyn"
this one seems like it might be a little personal so im shy to tag people hehe. go ahead and put me down if you want to do it though; i will be happy to know :)
I'm still in shock from how much I enjoyed the Barbie movie! I highly recommend seeing it if you can.
My brain is unhinged at the best of times but even more so when it's happy, so I wrote this.
Barbie x Pedro Boy Kens
MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR THE BARBIE MOVIE. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS.
Warnings: Smut. Rubbing of plastic parts. Feelings
WC:1.6k
Come on Barbie
Every day was perfect…until it wasn't. One morning, Barbie woke up feeling unsatisfied in more ways than one. Something inside of her told her to go spend more time with the Kens. That one of them would be able to satisfy the ache inside of her.
At first she spent time with Art Professor Ken. Art Professor Ken was sweet. Maybe a little too sweet. He made her breakfast, and he made lunch and he made dinner. Not that she'd asked. If she was out he packed a lunch with a note telling her how pretty and perfect she was. When he wasn't talking about art he was comparing her to art. It was nice. Really nice. It was just a bit…much. Especially when he talked about starting a family after two dates.
Then came Knight Ken. Knight Ken was exciting. He rode a beautiful horse. He'd travelled all over the land. He had a dangerous looking scar over his eye. He would protect her, maybe a little too much, given that the other Ken weren't really a threat. He would also completely forget she existed if there was any food around. Although, she did have to admit, there was something alluring about the way he ate with abandon.
This led her to go find DEA Ken. His intense stare and tight jeans made her non-existent vagina flutter. She'd even let him peel off her Sweet Creams nightgown and lay on top of her to rub his smooth crotch against her. It hadn't done anything for her but he had smoked afterwards. As much as she always had a great time with him, she always felt that he wasn't 'present' with her. His mind always seemed to be elsewhere. She guessed it was on the bad guys he was perpetually chasing. Not that there actually were any there.
Much like DEA Ken, Prince Ken made the smooth place between her legs tingle. He'd also convinced her to take off her Apple Print Sheath dress and let her caress the mounts at her chest, again it didn't do much for her but it was nice to have the attention of a Prince. Until he insisted on bringing another Barbie along and gave her more attention.
Cowboy Ken wasn't an actual cowboy, but he did come with a hat and a lasso. He was fun, but he didn't seem trustworthy.
Spaceman Ken came with a space suit and a poet's heart. She had a feeling his clever tongue and fancy words hid something dark as well.
Businessman Ken was the final straw. He was ridiculously handsome, well dressed, fun but he was so preoccupied with work. He didn't even seem to have time for his son.
Nope, none of these Kens would do, there were more but she didn't want to waste any more time. The feelings inside her were growing. As well as unsatisfied, she felt lonely. She was desperate to be understood she went to someone she never thought she would visit, Crazy Barbie. Crazy Barbie with her odd hair and permanent splits position.
Crazy Barbie had explained that there seemed to be a connection between her and someone playing with her doll in the real world. If she wanted to get rid of those feelings and be a regular Barbie again she had to find that person and help them.
That was how she ended up in the real world with Superhero Ken at her side. He'd insisted on coming, as soon as he had arranged for Skipper to babysit his daughter.
They hadn't been there long when the swords strapped to his back caught the attention of the police. Who in turn called Mattel. Who came to collect them in big black vehicles that she had never seen before. They'd taken her back to their headquarters, and promised to send her home. Much like some of her Kens she felt like their words hid something. The moment she had the opportunity, she sprinted away from them.
The place was a maze. Door after door, all the same dull metal, lined the walls. Every one was locked. Until she rounded a corner, the first door on the left opened up. Once inside, the first thing she noticed was the desk littered with pages and a single doll sat in the middle. A doll that looked exactly like her.
The second thing she notice was him. A Ken. His hair wasn't perfect, it was tousled and wild. He didn't have ridiculously sculpted washboard abs. His stomach was soft under the moth bitten sweater he wore. His glasses sat on the tip of his nose as he looked at her. He looked at her with something the other Kens never did, genuine hunger. The unsatisfied feeling flared up. She needed to be satisfied and she had a feeling he was just the Ken to do it.
"Hey." Was all he said with a smile on his lips.
"Hey." She replied with a dreamy tone in her voice.
The distance between them closed as if they were being pushed together by an unseen force. There was something so familiar about him, aside from his good looks.
It didn't feel strange when they kissed. Well, a little since it was an actual kiss not just their mouths pressing together. It felt right when the kiss deepened and he touched her.
The tingling between her legs intensified. Her light pink panties were stained a dark pink with her arousal. She desperately wanted to rub their parts together. She whispered that to him, suddenly shy about the whole thing.
"You want to dry hump? Sure. We can do that. Come here, Beautiful."
When he stripped down to his underwear, his private area wasn't smooth. He definitely had genitals. Big, hard genitals by the looks of it. He was so direct, he sat in the nearest chair and tapped his bare thighs, motioning for her to sit. When she did straddle his lap, it was an odd feeling in two ways. One, she wasn't used to her legs moving that way, and two, the heat of him pressed into her sent a current right through her. It lit up all her nerves. Eager for more, she began to move her now flexible hips experimentally. The feeling was incredible. She just wanted more and more of it. It seemed that Ken did, too. He kept making groaning noises and asking her for more. Eventually, he just put his hands on her hips and moved them himself. Faster and faster, until glitter burst behind her eyes. Her whole body shivered, and her new vagina pulsed. A next way of heat hit her between the legs as Ken moaned beneath her. A wet patch formed between them. "Oh. Does that usually happen?" She asked curiously.
"If you do it right, yeah." He signed contentedly.
His contentment seeped into her. The doll on the desk, she thought. It was him. He was the human all her desires were coming from.
"The doll?" She nodded her head in its direction.
"Oh, that. I've been modelling for all these Kens for so long I guess I just started to long for my own Barbie."
Before Barbie could contemplate what that meant, there was a loud banging at the door followed by a definitely angry voice. "Bravo! We're looking for an escaped Barbie. Make yourself useful, come and look for her."
Barbie felt Kens sadness of being nothing more than an object to them. "Ken, we have to go!"
"Dieter." He stopped her from pulling him up for a moment. "My name is Dieter."
"It's pretty." Her face heated as she smiled at him. Another bang on the door jilted her from her daze and into action. "Dieter, we have to go."
"Where?"
"Away from them. Back to Barbieland."
"Barbieland? Wait, you're a doll?"
"Yes."
"Wow." A lopsided grin spread across his face for a moment before he focused again. "Come on, the back stairs are this way."
"Don't you think it's weird that I'm…not real?"
"I play poker every Thursday with the ghost that lives down the hall. Real is subjective. Wait..."
Grabbing her hand Dieter headed down the back stairs across the floor below before climbing back up to his floor. Ruth's room was two doors away. They managed to slip through inside before any more executives showed up.
"Hello. What a lovely unexpected visit. How are you, my dear?" Barbie took a second to realise she was talking to her. No one ever asked how she was because Barbie was perfect every day.
"I'm…I'm…so many things. Scared, sad, excited, happy, tingly…" she glanced back at Dieter "...and very confused."
"Sounds very…human." Ruth smiled. "Now, Sweetie, you have a choice to make. I think you know that."
"I do." Barbie nodded before turning to Dieter. "If you could be anything, what would you choose to be?"
"What I am now. I'm an actor. I get to be anyone I want."
"I like the sound of that."
"Being an actor?"
"No, being anyone I want."
The white of the room grew blindingly bright until it washed out all of her senses.
Six months later.
Every day was almost perfect. Barbie woke up feeling as satisfied as she could hope for. She had a purpose, helping others find theirs. The school that she enrolled in to earn the qualifications to help people full time was going well. She was making friends. She even had her own Ken, or Kens, that came over to keep her company when she needed it. Sometimes Cowboy Ken would visit with his cute hat and whip. Sometimes DEA Ken would come over with his handcuffs. The Ken that came over the most, her personal favourite, was Actor Ken. He was the one that she thought about sharing her dream house with. Right after she finished figuring out just what kind of Barbie....human she was.
Genre and tags: dad Levi, fluff, romance, married, detective Levi, parents, cute.
Concept: a snippet from my old story porcelain lives on Ao3. You and your son play together. Your husband Levi joins in with the games and has a laugh.
“WOOSH!” You ran around the big living room in yours and Levi’s one floor house, Evan was lying forward in your arms as you pretended, he was flying. You smiled at his squeals of delight, you skidded around the corner to find Levi there coming out of his office. He froze when he saw you, you smiled at him. “Alert Captain Evan! Daddy in sights! Pull up or you will crash!”
“Left mummy!” He flapped his little arms. “Go!”
You turned left away from Levi and ran around the room more, you twisted around and ran outside in the garden and around Evan’s toys. “Captain Evan is the fastest kid alive!” You spun him around. “WOOSH!” You came to a stop. “Landing in 3, 2, 1.” You placed Evan on his little feet. “Landing successful, Captain Evan has arrived on an alien planet.” You knelt down. “What’s your mission Captain?”
He walked up to you in his little spaceman outfit you’d made him, he patted your lap and hummed. “Hugs.”
You hugged him. “Hug given Captain, what next?”
Levi walked out. “What’s going on here?”
Evan pointed to Levi. “Alien attack!”
You gasped. “Oh no! What do we do Captain?”
Evan ran towards Levi. “Get daddy!”
Levi dodged his son and ran for you, he picked you up making you yelp. “It’s no use.” Levi was pretending to be the bad guy for his son. “This beautiful space princess is mine! There’s no use handsome, cute, brave and strong Captain Evan! You’ll never stop me!”
“I’ll save you mummy!” Evan ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, he stumbled a few times but he kept going.
You giggled watching him, you patted Levi’s shoulder. “Hey Levi? Slow down a bit.”
He growled at you. “Quiet space princess.”
You smirked. “You’re really taking this seriously.”
“I’ve been wanting you for a long time, now I have you I will marry you.” He kissed your face all over. “And we’ll have many children.”
You blushed. “L-Levi!”
Levi sat under a sheet tied to two trees, under was a blanket and some cushions. “This is my palace!” He leaned over you as you lay back, you placed your hands on his chest. “Now my space princess, let me show you how much I love you.”
You giggled as he kissed your neck. “Levi! Evan can see us.”
Levi moved away just as Evan arrived, he jumped onto Levi. Levi lay flat on the floor. “Got you daddy!”
“No!” Levi went limp. “Help me, anyone!”
Evan giggled and began tickling Levi. “Attack!”
Levi held your leg. “All I wanted, was to love you, my space princess.”
You pulled a fake sad face. “Aww, Evan poor evil alien. He just wanted to love.”
Evan sat on Levi’s tummy, he patted Levi’s chest as he played dead. “Daddy can have the space princess, wake up daddy.”
You poked Levi’s cheek. “Yeah, wake up.”
Levi peaked at Evan. “Psst Evan?” Evan jumped off his dad, crawled closer to his head to listen. “I need a kiss from a princess, remember the stories we tell you?”
Evan nodded. “Mummy, you have to kiss the prince.”
You smiled. “Oh, and why is that?”
“Cause princesses kiss princes better.”
“Oh, so I have to kiss the prince?”
“Yeah!”
You leaned over Levi, you could see he was ready for a kiss. You turned your head and kissed Evan, he giggled. “There, I kissed the prince.”
Levi opened his eyes. “Kiss the King then.”
You laughed. “What do you think Evan? Shall I kiss daddy better?”
“Ummm…”
Levi sighed. “Oi.”
He giggled. “Yes mummy.”
You leaned over Levi again, you smirked at him as he spoke only to you. “The cheek on you brat, I’ll get you for that.”
“Sure.” You cupped the side of his face. “I’m so scared, now stop talking and let me kiss you.” He sighed and closed his eyes again, you leaned over and kissed him. Levi tangled his fingers in your hair, he held you there for a longer kiss and hummed. You pulled away. “I think daddy is a naughty King.”
Evan patted Levi’s chest. “Naughty.”
Levi looked at his son. “Yes, but I’m alive now thanks to you and the princess. Thank you, Captain Evan.” He sat up and pulled his son onto his lap, he gave him a cuddle. “You did well protecting mummy.”
“I did?”
“Yeah you did, you’re better than daddy.”
He got all shy and buried his face in his dad’s chest. You giggled. “Well, looks like that’s the end of one story. How about a new one?” They both looked at you. “One where mummy is a…MONSTER!” You roared at them.
Evan squealed and patted Levi. “Go daddy!”
Levi got up and ran with Evan around the garden, you chased after them. “I’m gonna get ya both!” You slowed down after a while, you were tired now of running around most of the day. You yawned and flopped on the sofa. “The monster has been defeated.”
Levi put Evan down on the floor, Evan ran over to you and tried to climb onto the sofa. You lifted him up and let go, he crawled next to you and hugged you. “Love you mummy.”
You cuddled him. “Love you too.”
Levi crouched next to you. “You should nap hun.”
You hummed. “I’m okay, just been playing with this little guy all morning.” You looked down to see Evan had passed out. “Good, I tired him out.”
“I’ll put him to bed, it is nap time right about now.”
You let him take Evan. “Thanks, it’s nice having you home on the weekend.”
“I love being home.” He carried Evan to his room, took his shoes off and lay him down. He kissed his little head and pulled the covers over him, he came back out to find you stretching on the sofa and moaning. “Oi brat? Have a nap.”
You sat up and rubbed your eyes. “Yeah, but I want to spend time with the alien King.” You winked at Levi. “He said some very kinky things to me and I might take him up on his offer.”
Levi grabbed your hand, he dragged you to his office. He opened the door then closed it, he lifted you up and slammed you against it. You dug your fingers into his hair, you wrapped your legs around him as he held your thighs near your bum. He pressed his pelvis against your heat, you moaned into the kiss. He carried you from the door, then sat you on his desk. He sat down on his chair in front of you.
You smiled at Levi. “So, what do you say?”
He ran his hands up your legs. “For the greater good of my alien people.” He leaned closer and kissed your thigh. “I will have you.” He reached up and grabbed your shorts, he pulled them off and folded them before putting them down. He stood up as his hand moved up your thigh to your heat, he captured your lips before you moaned.
Found a little fic about the night Remus gets bitten that I wrote and posted on Instagram a year ago but I couldn't find that I ever posted it here, so....
Warning for child manipulation/stalking
~
Remus Lupin, aged four, is a very bright little boy, as told by his parents. More people would agree, but he doesn’t have too many others in his life.
Remus knows he is smart, but being called little is what makes him upset. Although he stands quite a bit shorter than the other children in the neighbourhood, he has the wits of a much older person. He knows so many things and is not a child at all - he feels like he is, like, at least five and a half. He learned to read at two years old and knows how to write his name with capital and lowercase letters, but what is the most wondrous thing about him is that he is magic! The other children will likely learn to read and write eventually, but not everybody can levitate a cookie jar from the top shelf when his daddy is at work and his mummy in the garden.
He is a joyful child, rarely seen without a grin on his face. The only thing to ever get him down, really, is loneliness. It has never really bothered him until recently, after seeing the other children play with each other. Not many live in his area, but the ones who do are mean and don’t want anything to do with Remus. He doesn’t even have siblings to play with, his only relatives are mummy and daddy.
He doesn’t let it get to him most of the time. Mummy and Daddy are amazing, and he has Tilda and Betty the teddy bears. And in a way, he does have hundreds of more friends than any of the other children, and that is all the characters from his books! Remus has a very vivid imagination and he loves to play, be a pirate on a ship or a spaceman discovering new galaxies or the fastest Quidditch player in the world. In his head he can be all of those things.
There is this one person though, who is kind of his friend. He is a friendly hunter with a dark beard and wicked scars from a fight with wolves and a weird name Remus doesn’t remember. He lives deeper in the forest surrounding Remus’s home.
All of this is a secret. The hunter says Remus’s mummy and daddy wouldn’t probably be happy if they knew, and although Remus has made the promise to not tell, he doesn’t understand why they would be upset that Remus has found a friend of this kind man. They have forbidden him from talking to strangers, sure, but the man isn’t a stranger anymore. He once helped Remus after he skinned his knees after falling when running away from the neighbourhood children.
On this particular day a few months before Remus’s fifth birthday, Remus is feeling more bored than ever before, or at least so he complains to his mummy and daddy and the hunter too, who he happens to see walking by when he’s playing a prince in the front yard. He’s just read his newest book he got for Christmas, about princes and princesses and dragons. It was one of the most exciting ones he has read yet. But now he has read all of the books he owns, and doesn’t know what to do anymore. All the things he has pretended to be before are starting to get repetitive.
The hunter smiles at him as Remus explains about the world he is currently creating in his head, and Remus jumps excitedly when the man actually kneels and bows after he introduces himself as the prince.
”Does Your Majesty have a big castle?”
”There is no castle at all. If I had a castle I would be a king!”
”Well why couldn’t you be a king, then?”
”Well, I don’t have a castle.” Remus rolls his eyes. The hunter is a little confused sometimes. He asks a lot of questions. Remus seems to know so much more than he does. ”Kings need a castle. And mummy cries about how we don’t have much money, so I don’t think we could buy one.”
The hunter is still on one knee, crouched on his level. He gives Remus a pat on the shoulder. ”Well I think you could figure that one out. You’re smart, little one.”
”I am,” he says. He is right! A tingling feeling quickly spreads through his body, and soon he’s unable to stay still with all the excitement of this new challenge and something so fun to fill the day with. ”I am!” And with that, he runs inside.
It is only a short while later when Remus meets the hunter again, who is still standing nearby, as he often is. Remus hopes to never become the kind of adult whose greatest joy in life is to stand in street corners and smell flowers, as the hunter’s seem to be.
”I know how to make a castle!” Remus announces to him, feeling so proud of himself for coming up with such a plan in only a few minutes. ”A huge fort of blankets, daddy says I can build one in my room! I’m even going to sleep there tonight!”
The hunter’s eyes flash. ”Your room, that is on this side of the house, yes? Right next to your mama and papa’s room?”
Remus furrows his eyebrows, wondering how the man knows this. ”Yes.”
The hunter looks at him long. He is quite scary-looking, and the other children are terrified of him, but Remus is not. He can also see past the surface, and giving him a chance, he has learned he is actually pretty interesting.
”You know, a friend of mine lived in this house of yours very many years ago, and I used to visit him plenty at that time. You do have one more room in the back, don’t you? It’s got a window to the forest - a better view of your kingdom, you see.”
Remus nods. ”It’s my daddy’s office. He likes watching the birds. But I’m not allowed to play there, he needs it for work.”
”It’s Saturday, surely your old man doesn’t need that tonight.” The hunter winks. ”If he’s any fun, he’ll let you watch the birds for a night.”
”I don’t care about birds,” Remus mutters, but agrees to ask either way.
By midday, Remus has searched the whole house and carried every blanket and pillow and bed sheet he was able to find to his daddy’s office, which he has gotten permission to use for a day after asking very nicely and promising to clean after himself.
After a little lunch and a nap with mummy on the couch he is ready to continue the hard work. He draws several detailed floor plans, climbs on furniture trying to hang the sheets, but it’s hard even when he tries to use magic, and bitterly asks daddy for help. Dear mummy brought him a snack, milk and cookies, and Remus ate them in the ready part of his castle without telling her he already had five cookies that day when no one was watching. This is also when he sneaks out to let the hunter know he is, indeed, building his castle with a better view than the dusty streets.
It takes a long time, but when the castle is all finished, he stands in the middle of the room, hands on his hips, beaming at his creation. It has ceiling-high towers and a tunnel to a secret chamber under the bed. He plays inside the whole evening, taking care of his kingdom, being the kind and generous kind of a king that the people love.
When the sun sets and the moon rises, silvery and perfectly round tonight, mummy comes in to read Remus a bedtime story. Remus likes letting his mummy read to him. It is nice being tucked under her arm and listening to her soothing voice. Mummy was the one who had brought stories to him in the first place, as mummy loves reading too.
Before mummy leaves, she checks every corner of the castle, even the secret tunnel, to make sure there are no monsters there. She and daddy do it every night, and even though they say there aren’t really monsters, he feels like it’s better to be safe than sorry. But mummy and daddy know that even if a monster shows up, Remus will win the fight with a skill of a thousand knights.
Remus makes sure his parents are asleep and pulls a torch from under his pillow, leans a book against it and keeps reading from where his mum left off.
He blinked, rubbing his eyes, trying to fight sleep as long as possible. If he stays up long enough he might see cute bunnies in the garden. He’s only ever seen one or two in his life, daddy said there weren't many of them nearby at all, and Remus wishes he will someday get close enough to pet one.
He is so deep into the story and the vivid world inside his head he barely registers a slow creak and a blow of cold air from the window, probably the wind’s near successful attempts to knock the ancient little house of theirs down. It takes Remus a moment to notice the room has gotten cold and he pulls the blanket from over his head to see the window is ajar.
With a sigh, Remus rises to his little feet, one of the blankets still hanging from his shoulders like a cape, and reaches to close it because mummy and daddy will surely get mad if they find out, and never let him build a castle with a garden view again. You could get a cold, they’ll say, and somehow getting a cold was one of the worst things his parents can imagine happening to him as if it doesn’t mean getting to lay in bed all day with his books and pens and drink a lot of hot chocolate.
Remus gets on a chair to reach the handle on the window - he doesn’t know how it had opened on its own, because wind can’t grab things like that.
He peers into the moonlit garden. No bunnies there. Maybe they are asleep with the rest of the world. He wonders what little bunnies dream about. Probably lots of carrots. He hadn’t read any books about bunnies.
With all his strength, he pushes the window closed and jumps back on the floor, quickly making his way back to his castle. He knows he should try to sleep soon - otherwise mummy will know he stayed up too late, and he doesn’t want to make mummy sad.
Remus stops. He stares at his castle, which looks different now, somehow. He doesn’t quite understand what is wrong.
He picks up the torch once again, fishing it from his pyjama pocket, and clicks it on. He aims the light at the castle, and indeed, it reveals an oddly shaped, large silhouette against the bedsheet walls. Remus stares, tilting his head like a puppy, trying to figure out what it is. At first he thought it was just Tilda and Betty, tucked in and asleep in the guest room of his castle. Remus really tried to be quiet to not wake them up.
But then the shadow twitches.
Remus purses his lips, fear rising in his chest and locking him into his place. He tries to think hard. Maybe he is just really sleepy and having nightmares already, because mummy did check every place from monsters. It still doesn’t give an answer to the mystery of who has taken over his castle in the moment he’s been to the window. Maybe something did come in.
Remus is very brave. He is. He has always been told so.
Perhaps it is a bunny. Maybe one heard him talk to the hunter and wanted to see his castle.
He giggles at himself, realising how silly his own thoughts were. Bunnies aren’t that big! Bunnies can’t get inside the house. They can’t grab things like window handles, either. The bunnies are asleep, having very carrot-filled dreams.
The shadow twitches again, tensing somehow, but Remus tucks his chin up. He squeezes his hand around the torch, taking curious steps towards the castle. He’s fought off all kinds of things from his books before!
Whatever this is, he’ll make it go away, because there are not really monsters in the world.
I’ve been tagged by @sssammich and it’s hard to say no to sssammich. It has nothing to do with the fact that I am procrastinating on something. Not at all.
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Currently 14
2. What’s your total AO3 words count?
348,153 (most of those are one fic – 234,645)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
At present, just Supercorp, but I do have an unfinished Wynonna Earp fic in the mix.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
1) Home (part of a series)
2) Conversations (continuation of series above)
3) Carterhaugh-Wood Academy (CWA – Fae AU)
4) I Wish it Was Me
5) Kiss Me in the Rain
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Absolutely! I try to respond to all comments because anyone that takes the time to read my work and let me know they did is worth my time. I value and appreciate the comments.
6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
HA. Well, I don’t write a lot of angsty stuff. I am working on venturing into some angst since I tend to lean more into fluffy stories with a few twists. Hopefully I will be branching out into some angst with happy ending type stories. We shall see.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Tough to say…LOL. So far, all of mine have happy endings. I have one that is open-ended because I am planning a sequel, but yeah…pick one. :)
8. Do you get hate on fics?
So far, not really. I did get a mildly rude comment once, but overall, everyone has been kind.
9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?
Yes. I’m not sure how I would classify it? It’s not strictly vanilla, but not too adventurous either. At least not yet? It’s a work in progress. I’m still finding my footing in that arena. ;)
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
Not exactly? My fae AU has Diana Prince and Felicity Smoak as secondary characters, but I think that’s the only one that I’ve brought in from outside the show. I’m not opposed to writing them, it just hasn’t been part of any ideas yet.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Hmmm, not that I am aware of…
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Also not that I am aware of…though I would be flattered and honored if asked.
13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
One that has been published already – no. I am co-writing one with some friends right now though (@lovesastateofmind1 & @chaotic-super - I'm looking at you).
14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?
Supercorp, hands down. There hasn’t been another ship that has grabbed me by the neck like they have.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
HA – Easy. My Wynonna Earp fic. Unfortunately, I lost the momentum/interest in it and have no plans to get back to it.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Ummm, descriptive writing, creating imagery? Not sure.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Getting too far into the minutiae of things, being impatient with story development.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I haven’t done a lot of it. I used a version of combined Irish & Scottish Gaelic in CWA – Fae AU and haven’t used it much since. It was fun to do though and I will likely use it in another WIP I have brewing.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Wynonna Earp. I was very late to the world of fanfiction and fandoms, but really enjoy it.
20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?
That is a very difficult one to answer. I say it would be a close race between the Home Series and CWA. I think I am most proud of CWA.
No pressure to anyone I tag to answer. Love and light, y’all!
Gary K. Wolfe Reviews Lake of Souls: The Collected Short Fiction by Ann Leckie
April 7, 2024Gary K. Wolfe
In a Locus interview last year, Ann Leckie noted that, prior to Ancillary Justice, “Nobody paid much attention to my stories,” and she was neither complaining nor being falsely modest. While a few of the stories in Lake of Souls: The Collected Short Fiction made the Locus recommended reading list or best-of-the-year anthologies, it seems fair to say that Leckie was hardly a widely discussed writer before her stunning first novel. None of this has anything to do with the generally fine quality of those stories, though. Another reason might simply be that the “collected stories” of a career dating back to 2006 consists of only 18 selections (omitted are a handful of stories, three of which were collaborations with Rachel Swirsky), and more than half of those take place either in the “Imperial Radch Universe” or the fantasy world of The Raven Tower. None of those novels are in any sense prerequisites, however, and in fact all seven of the Raven Tower tales were published before that novel appeared in 2019, giving us a clear sense of how Leckie developed this world and its rules, and dispelling the notion (which briefly made the rounds back then) that Leckie had somehow made an abrupt left turn from SF into fantasy.
Almost as if to show us that she’s far more than a two-universe pony (okay, that’s admittedly a metaphor that doesn’t mix), Leckie opens the collection with eight stories that demonstrate a broad grasp of SF and fantasy themes and forms. Her first published story, “Hesperia and Glory”, adopts the slightly formal tone of post-WWI ghost stories in telling of a strange visitor who claims to be an exiled prince from an ancient Martian civilization with distinctive echoes of Burroughs and Brackett. Two of the stories invoke the old space-opera chestnut of the sole survivor of a crash landing on an alien planet, but “Lake of Souls” – original to the volume – counterpoints the spaceman’s point of view with a surprisingly moving coming-of-age tale of Spawn, the “lobster dog” alien who encounters him, while “Footprints” is a short but chilling vignette involving an illusory little girl and her teddy bear. Another short-short, “The Sad History of the Tearless Onion”, is a slight if clever parable of unanticipated consequences. Far more substantial are “The Justified”, a far-future adaptation of the Egyptian tale of Sekhmet, in which the powerful Het is called back from exile to root out threats to the elite of the story’s title, particularly among the “single-lived”, but whose brief encounter with a pair of small children shifts her perspective. “Another Word for World” begins as a familiar-looking tale of ostensible enemies forced to depend on each other to survive (after another crash landing!), one a Sovereign of a planet’s native population, the other an emissary of refugees who have settled there. The title may echo Le Guin, and so does what emerges as the story’s central theme – communication, and how dependence on a faulty (or misprogrammed) auto-translator (another old favorite SF gadget) can change history.
Readers of the Ancillary series might find a few Easter eggs in the three stories set in the Imperial Radch Universe – unlike the Raven Tower stories, all of these were published after Ancillary Justice – the best of which are “She Commands Me and I Obey”, in which a space-hockey sort of sports competition in a vast space habitat reveals complex political rivalries, and “Night’s Slow Poison”, a classic space opera in which a months-long voyage slowed down by a mysterious region called “the crawl” highlights further political intrigue. But it may be the seven Raven Tower stories that most clearly show Leckie’s skill at deploying various techniques in the service of incremental world-building. Having given herself a set of ground rules – thousands of gods can inhabit anything from frogs to horses to rivers, but they depend on prayers or sacrifices for their power and are incapable of lying – Leckie gives herself leeway to range from the comic to the almost gruesome. A frog-god in “The Unknown God”, for example, partly makes a living marketing excretions as a skin moisturizer (though the story itself focuses on a god of horses trying to reverse an earlier, ill-advised curse). The most delightful story in the collection, “Saving Bacon”, is an almost Wodehousian rom-com in which the scion of a privileged family goes to great lengths (and enlists the aid of some of those small gods) to avoid an arranged marriage. But another arranged marriage, in “The Snake’s Wife”, results in a grim but powerful tale involving castration, rape, and the dark side of some of those same gods. “The Nalendar” is very nearly a caper story involving the search for the lost treasure of a river god, while other stories explore the various ingenious ways in which humans and gods negotiate for power within the tricky confines of those ground rules. Throughout, there’s a sense of a restless imagination at work, and of a writer exploring her options, often in ways that will surprise the admirers of her more famous novels, and often in ways that will reassure them they were right in the first place.
i'm likely going to go home and start writing up a post for noah's prince of thieves verse bc the brainrot has not left me and has only gotten worse <3 i do however have the next few days off so do feel free to come yell at me or the spaceman for whatever reasons