#They have to work out how they relate to each other in this wider world

[hephaestuscrew]

Minkowski would be so intense about introducing Eiffel and Hera and Lovelace to any of her loved ones back on Earth. She makes the crew sit through a PowerPoint presentation on suitable topics of conversation to discuss with her mother. She gives Dominik a folder of detailed guidance about how to interact with Hera because he's never met an AI before. She asks Eiffel several days beforehand if he has decided what he's going to wear to meet her family, as though Eiffel has ever in his life put thought into an outfit more than 30 seconds before getting dressed.

She tries to control every parameter of the interaction in a way that actually makes it more uncomfortable for everyone involved. She spends the entire time sitting right on the edge of her chair, looking anxiously between each of these people she cares about, trying to tell whether they are getting on, and attempting to communicate with them individually through urgent expressions.

And of course it doesn't work. Eiffel puts his foot in his mouth. Dominik is confused and curious about all the wrong things. Minkowski dares to leave the room for a few minutes and when she comes back, her mother is showing the crew her baby photos, and Minkowski knows she'll never live this down.

[justanothervoreblog]

A Date for Valentine's

You would always tell yourself that Valentine's Day was for suckers. People who needed a single day to celebrate love. As if saying that made the day any less lonelier. This year, you decided to get with the holiday and put yourself out there. Luckily you managed to find someone who feels exactly the same way that you did.

You meet up with him and things are going great. If you had ever believed in the power of Cupid’s arrow, it was now. He was funny and relatable, and he knew all of your favorite bands and video games. Not to mention he wasn't that bad to look at either! Things were going so well that you decided to say yes when he invited you over. After all, your Valentine's Day was going well, so why end it now?

The good vibes continue all the way to his apartment. Although you do notice that he's unusually hungry. Odd considering you watched him swallow down three pizzas, but people were quirky like that. Besides, you are far too focused on the dirty talk that he was doing. Saying things like “I can't wait to eat you up” or “You look delicious”. One that particularly got you was stripping you down and licking every inch of your body. That one had your skin tingling!

Once you stepped out of the car, it was a blur. You don't know how two people could walk and make out at the same time but you made it work. Up three flights of stairs, pushing each other against the walls, tearing each other's clothes off, the works. Your hair was ragged by the time you had reached his door. Hot and bothered couldn't nearly describe how you felt.

Inside the door, the two of you traded kisses and hickeys to the couch. After some playful wrestling, he ends up on top of you. You are expecting more to come, but what comes next is not in your horoscope. He makes some comments about how delicious you look and how he can't wait to get you inside. You have no idea what he's talking about, frankly because you thought you would be bottoming. However, when his mouth opens wider than it should, saliva dripping down from his teeth, you realize that this wasn't just kinky talk.

What comes next is a smelly mouth and an invasive tongue. It looks over everything. Your face, your ears, the back of your neck. You pass into a tight pink tunnel, warmed by the air coming from below. The only thing you can hear is the steady gulping from your would-be date and now-turned predator. He didn't have any issue with turning you into a Valentine's Day meal. And with every gulp, that becomes more of your reality.

You don't know how long you spend in the tunnel. You pass by a very loud heartbeat as it slams in your ear. Eventually, you push past a tight ring of muscle into what had to be the smelliest place on earth. His stomach reeks of the pizza he had devoured. And soon it would reek of you. Your head, shoulders, and your upper body all slide in quickly. Your legs kick weakly on the outside and steadily more and more of your body is becoming wet and slimy.

Eventually, your shoes are taken off, that tongue wraps around your wet socks, and what's left of you in the world is gone. You feel your legs travel down his throat as you curl into a ball. With a steady thump, the date is over and the final course, you, was served. On the outside, your date rubs over his belly content with yet another helpless romantic lured in on Valentine's Day. He taught you about how love hurts and that this way you two will be together forever. Or something like that, it's muffled through the churning of the stomach walls as well as the gurgling.

As you settle into your temporary home, a bittersweet thought comes into your mind. You still weren't spending Valentine's alone. You would be with your pred, for as long as it takes for him to digest you. As the stomach walls squeeze around you and press all of the air out of the chamber, a soft smile plays on your lips. You gently pass out as that huge burp vibrates the apartment.

There were worse ways to spend Valentine’s Day.

Happy Voretine's Day ❤️❤️❤️

[what-even-is-thiss]

Having a friend you thought you were gonna spend your whole entire life with like start a home together and everything but then it didn’t work out. It’s hard to describe that kind of break up to most people. I made peace with it a long time ago and we’re on good terms now but nothings gonna go back to how it was. That future I thought I was gonna have with them just didn’t happen.

The hardest part at this point is like finding people who relate to me on it. Or even see it as a thing that needs to be moved past. I find myself relating to a lot of people when they talk about break ups with romantic partners but they don’t relate to me. Which is a weird sort of isolating.

I don’t think I’ve ever met someone else with this experience. I had a platonic break up at one point with someone I’m just friends with now. And I don’t think that either of us know how we’re supposed to function with that in the world now. How our negative experiences fit into the world as a whole. And we can’t relate to each other because each other is the problem.

A queerplatonic relationship ending is so weird. Where do you find support? Where do you fit your experiences into the wider world around you? I’ve moved on but I can’t share my woes with others because they just can’t click with me on it. I didn’t think that aspect of it would still be bothering me all this time later but it is. I’ve got exes but they’re not romantic ones. So what do I do about that? Who do I relate to about that? Increasingly the answer seems to be nobody at all.

[lunarcloak]

Blue Lock Chapter 262: Visual Storytelling

Can we talk about the visual imagery this chapter?? Kaneshiro is always cooking but Nomura cooked extra hard this time with his own illustrative storytelling

An almost entirely white panel. Except for the black spot of Kaiser's hunched figure. Almost as if he's the stain on an otherwise perfect game from BM right now. (He's thrown off balance.)

Here, in the first picture, this is Isagi's view of where Kaiser is right now. On top of a puzzle piece— a symbol of Isagi's power, and also a symbol of how off kilter he is. The second picture is part of a larger paneling of how he's being left on the ground as Isagi runs past him in a flurry of puzzle pieces. Almost as if Isagi's kicking the pieces of his perfect puzzle astray, leaving him to rebuild them from scratch. (The theme of this chapter.)

You can tell he's only barely listening. Eyes are always a huge indicator of visual storytelling— i picked this up from looking at BSD panels for too long. Here there's virtually no pupils, smaller, wider eyeballs because he's not listening to Ness's words. They're going in one ear out the other. Because Ness's words are superficial— He's trying to help, he is, but that is desperately NOT what Kaiser needs right now. He needs to figure out how to FIX this. Not to retreat back into the safety of his cocoon so that he can pretend he's still the star on the field.

NOTICE HOW EVERYTHING IN THE SECOND PANEL CAN DIRECTLY BE RELATED TO ISAGI. The offer from Reale— what if Yoichi gets it instead of me? The throne in this team— what if Isagi takes that, too? Am I about to lose everything I worked to get myself? The whole world is watching my worst performance in years. I can't lose here. I can't be defeated here. Not here, of all places, in Blue Lock.

Negative colouring. The previous, prominent memory I have of this is when Rin went to his "flow" state. It's specifically to emphasise the "HUMAN" wording. It's usually used to showcase a very prominent moment, in this case it's Kaiser realising exactly what the core of his worry is right now. It isn't the defeat, not beating Isagi, not anything. At the moment, he's afraid of losing the very humanity he had thought he clawed himself into. To emphasise this, the black and white being reversed are to indicate that time almost freezes, completely changing his perspective and line of thought at that moment.

Less dramatic, still negatively scaled panel. Emphasising how he's really digging into his psyche here and going "Oh, I'm scared. I'm afraid of losing everything I've got for myself." The last time this happened was when his secret money stash was found— he didn't care as much then, because there was nothing to lose that he hadn't already lost. But now? Now, it matters a lot more. Because he's built himself up on an entirely shaky foundation. Note how he's also sliding below here, losing his footing, like he's lost the stable ground he thought he had.

The angle of this panel makes it look like he's climbing upwards, and he's just lost his grip on the wall before him, and is in the process of falling. It's extremely well done.

Plenty people have already pointed this one out— yeah Isagi's just reached a height that's similar to Noa's. The position Kaiser thought he used to have, but now he's not even on the staircase to victory and the treasure he thought he would attain soon is now inching towards his most challenging rival to date.

You will never see him this tired, this defeated, or this melancholic ever again. At this point, his eyes are no longer that wide, shocked stare of not seeing. Now he's comprehended his stance, and he's come back into himself.

Each petal is a memory, a visual representation of the crumbling of the rose he once held. It's gone now, there's no rose in his hand anymore (nothing for him to hold onto anymore). When you have no roses in hand, you grow a new bouquet. When you have nothing, there's nothing to lose if you go reaching for something to hold onto again.

But HERE, the petals can be interpreted in two ways— either he's being reformed from the petals of a new rose (blank petals, not representative ones). OR, you can interpret it as those very petals dissipating from his being, leaving him as this black, blank slate to rebuild himself. Zero— as in no colour, no petals, no gardens to flourish anymore. Only way to move now is up.

Also I'd like to draw your attention to the negative paneling again— inverted this time, the exact opposite of the previously conveyed emotion. Now he's the one in the black, working to redefine himself. He's already redefined the external aspects.

Your Zero— Your Beginning. I LOVE this page, even if it's a repeat. It conveys so much. Kaneshiro and Nomura are such a GOOD TEAM

A black hand clasps around the core memory— the memory of when he truly had only his football. He can't let that petal float away, that's one he wants to keep. That's the idea he wants to hold onto. He crushes the petal into his hand, assimilating it into his new beginning. That's the one he'll hold onto, to recraft the person that is Michael Kaiser.

[springtyme]

Hi, I'm so excited your requests are open! I love the way you describe scenes, you take the reader around the full area to understand how the setting affects the emotions of the story so beautifully (thinking of your Simon piece, Homeward Bound, especially).

I'd like to put in a request for Sydney Adamu x reader (gn afab is fine!), something very tender and intimate. I'm imagining an established relationship that's still very new, like maybe they're sharing a night routine for the first time, or on a date at a garden/museum?

Craving something v sweet with a bit of "healthy tension" lol, maybe a little soft smut if you are up to it! Thank you so much for sharing your work, if you don't feel like writing this no worries!

𝐀 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♡

Thank you so much dear! I love scene setting so hearing that you enjoy it makes me so happy! <3 I had so much fun with this Syd piece (seriously, I love her so much!) so thank you so much for this request, I hope you like it :)

Sydney Adamu x afab!Reader || Masterlist || Sydney playlist

summary: You and Syd are about to spend your first weekend together. Dinner is being eaten and so is something else.

word count: 3.7k

warnigs: Smut! (18+, mdni!) Food. Fluffy smut, cunnilingus/face-riding, vaginal fingering, nipple play/sucking. Reader is afab but there is used no gendering terms. I'm sorry if there is mistakes or anything seems rushed, I wrote this in one sitting and I haven't had time to proofread yet.

As you step onto the crowded L train, the familiar sounds of the city surround you. The rumbling of the train, the chatter of fellow passengers, and the occasional screech of brakes fill the air. You find a seat by the window, your packed weekend bag in your lap as you gaze out at the passing cityscape with a mix of excitement and anticipation. 

The weekend ahead holds something special for you – it is the first time you’ll be spending it entirely with Syd, just the two of you. Sydney finally has a whole weekend without any restaurant related obligations which just happens to align with the week her father is out of town and as the train glides through the city, you can’t help but think about how happy you are to have her in your life. 

The two of you had met on a cold afternoon in late February. Little frost crystals had formed at the outside of the windows of the little café you were seated inside of. You had come there to get some work done, your small studio apartment didn’t really allow your creativity to flow and you had hoped that a change in scenery would help you, but without any luck. You had instead ended up staring out of the window at the freezing Chicago. Your laptop closed shut as you sat inside the little warm cocoon that was Kasama, feeling small and alone as you looked out on the outside world of Chicago. You had, at some point, looked up and there she was, Sydney, seated at the other side of the café already looking at you. That’s how it all had started. The two of you had started talking, which then had led to Syd inviting you to join her on a culinary journey across Chicago after she told you that her friend and business partner wouldn’t be able to join her, which otherwise had been the plan. 

You can’t help but smile  as you think back on that day and as the train nears your destination, your smile only grows wider. You walk the short distance to Sydney’s apartment building, your heart beating a little faster with each step. You just can’t wait to see her, she has, in the short amount of time you have known her, become very special to you. 

You press the buzzer, hearing the faint sound of Sydney’s voice through the intercom. “Come on up,” she says, her voice filled with warmth and excitement. With a smile on your face, you step into the elevator, your heart pounding in anticipation. As the elevator doors open on Sydney’s floor, you take a moment to compose yourself. You want everything to be perfect, to show her just how much this weekend means to you. You knock on the door, and when it swings open, you’re greeted by Sydney, clad in a comfy sweater, looking gorgeous as always.

“Hi,” she greets you, her eyes sparkling with joy and a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

In that moment, all your worries and nerves melt away. You step into the apartment, right into Syd’s outstretched arms, feeling an overwhelming sense of ease fall over you.

“Hi,” you answer her, enjoying the feeling of her arms around you, as she hugs you tightly. You tow off your shoes and shed your coat which Sydney takes from you to hang up for you before taking your hand in hers, leading you into the apartment.

As you find yourself in the kitchen, Syd kindly takes your bag, and tells you to sit down while she puts your bag into her bedroom. The warm, inviting aroma of simmering spices fills your nostrils  and you can’t help but smile at Sydney’s culinary prowess. The soft glow of the day’s last sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a comforting glow upon the apartment, adorning everything with a soft golden hue.  

“Whatcha cookin’?” You ask, loud enough for her to hear in the other room.  

“Butternut squash soup with a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg as an appetizer. And for the main course, we’re having rosemary roasted chicken with a maple glaze and caramelized Brussels sprouts.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing, smells delicious too. Are you sure you don’t need any help?” You ask from your seat at the kitchen island. 

“Nah, I’m good, and I’m almost done anyway, I’ve wanted to try this recipe out anyway,” she tells you, like cooking the enormous amount of food was nothing. “You can help with the dishes after though,” she adds with a cheeky smile on her face as she reenters the kitchen. 

“Well, that, I surely can. I might also just be more in the way than any help with the food,” you say with a light laugh.

It’s not that you’re bad in a kitchen, but you are nowhere near Sydney’s level and even though a part of you feels incredibly guilty for not helping you can’t deny how much you love watching her work. Completely in her element. So you let her do her thing and stay put . Nimble fingers dancing across the pots and pans, her brows knitted with focus as she begins to compose the meal, orchestrating a symphony of flavors. “No, you wouldn’t be in the way, that’s not what I meant, I just want to cook for you… It’s like the thing I know how to do, and…” she trails off for a second, eyes staring down at the food before continuing. “I love cooking for the people that are special to me, I guess you could say that it is my ‘love language’ or whatever.” 

She does air quotes at ‘love language, but you can’t help but smile at her words. You feel incredibly lucky as you watch her work her culinary magic, especially after what she just said. The way she moves with such grace and confidence in the kitchen is truly mesmerizing. As the mouthwatering aroma of the cooking food fills the room, you find yourself captivated by her artistry, her words really tugging at your heartstrings. 

You understand her desire to cook for you, to express her love through her culinary creations. You reach out and gently take her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I know,” you say softly, your voice filled with warmth and appreciation. “It’s one of the things I admire the most about you, you know… It’s not just about the food, it is about the care and thought you put into it. It really is something special Syd. The way you care… It’s really admirable.”

Her eyes soften, a small smile playing on her lips. “You know what?” she says, her voice filled with gratitude. “Having someone to cook for means the world to me. So, thank you for wanting to eat my food, just having you sit there is actually a great help, it helps remind me why I love cooking.” She lets out with a warm laugh, but the sincerity of her words aren’t lost in the slightest by it. 

So you stay put. The sizzle of vegetables hitting the hot oil and the occasional clatter of utensils against the countertops create a rhythmic melody that fills the room. And so, you continue to sit at the kitchen island, watching Sydney work her culinary magic.

You watch as she gracefully garnishes the soup with a sprinkle of fresh herbs, roasted pumpkin seeds and pieces of finely sliced chili, transforming the dish into a culinary masterpiece. The delicious smell of the dish wafts through the air, teasing your senses and making your mouth water in anticipation. 

Finally, Sydney places a steaming bowl of soup in front of you. The vibrant colors and rich aroma enticing you.“Well, bon appétit,” she says, during a little hand gesture towards the bowl, an almost shy smile on her lips but her eyes gleam with excitement as she sits down at the other side of the table with a bowl of her own.

As you take your first spoonful, the velvety texture and warm spices dance on your tongue, filling you with a comforting sensation. You savor each bite, cherishing the meal Syd  has cooked with so much care and love. 

The two of you eat and talk and laugh and after the meal you do the dishes together, the jokes and banter flow freely, and occasionally a blob of soap sud will playfully be flickered at the other, turning the usually so mundane task into a delightful ordeal, the clinking of dishes becomes the applause for your comedic genius.

With the dishes done and the kitchen cleaned up, you both find yourselves in the cozy living room, contemplating what to do next. Sydney suggests watching a movie, and the idea immediately sparks your interest.

“Sounds good,” you say, a smile forming on your lips. “Anything in mind?”

Sydney thinks for a moment, her eyes scanning the shelves of DVDs. She has told you about her father’s love of physical media, which has led to a sumptuous collection of movies, music and books filling out multiple floor to ceiling shelves of the apartment. “How about a rom com? I could do with something light and heartwarming.”

You nod in agreement, appreciating the idea of a feel-good movie to complement the warmth and happiness you already feel being in Sydney’s presence. Together, you browse through the collection, but you don’t really find anything that peaks any of your interests. Finally she turns to you when it is clear between you that maybe a movie wasn’t the right call after all, something about the idea of having to look at a screen instead of each other suddenly feeling immensely silly to both of you. 

“We could also just sit for a little while,” she says, a lovesick gleam in her eyes. 

You smile at the suggestion and feel your heart flutter at the adoration in her eyes. The idea of simply enjoying each other’s company without any distractions sounds perfect. “I like that idea,” you reply, your voice filled with affection. 

She redirects her attention from movies to the record collection, pulling one out from the shelves. Shedding the vinyl from its sleeve before delicately lifting the lid of the beautiful vintage record player. Placing the album onto the turntable, handling it with utmost care, gently lowering the needle onto the vinyl. The smooth sound of the Delfonics filling the room, as they start to croon for you. 

You settle onto the soft couch, leaning against each other as you both take a moment to soak in the tranquility of the room. With the sun now fully set the only source of light in the room comes from a single table lamp and the candles which Syd had deliberately lit for the two of you, their warm glow casts flickering shadows across the walls, creating an ambiance of cozy intimacy. 

You lean your head on Sydney’s shoulder, feeling the warmth and security of her presence as your body’s intertwine. The silence between you is comfortable, filled with a deep sense of understanding and acceptance. As you sit there, Sydney’s hand finds its way into yours, your fingers lacing together. The gentle touch sends a wave of comfort and contentment through your body, and you can’t help but feel grateful.

Without needing words, you understand each other’s thoughts and emotions, and it feels like time stands still. In this moment, the world outside seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of love and tranquility. It’s as if nothing else matters except for the connection you share and the giddy happiness that comes with new love. 

“God, I’m so glad Carmy was being a little bitch and ditched me that day at Kasama,” Syd lets out a breathy giggles, shaking her head gently as she finally breaks the silence.

You lift your head, your eyes finding hers. “Me too,” you say, a soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

“Yeah?” She grins down at you. 

“Yeah,” you nod, a grin of your own now plastered on your face. 

In fact the word ‘glad’ doesn’t even come close to how you feel about it, the word seems way too weak to hold all the feelings you have on the topic. Grateful, ecstatic, completely and utterly over the fucking moon, those are words that might be a little closer to describe how you actually feel about it. But you don’t say that, not yet. It’s not that long since that fateful afternoon when you and Syd had first met, and even less time has passed since the two of you got your shit together and actually confessed your feelings towards each other. One day, you’ll tell her just how incredibly happy you are that Carmen decided to be ‘a little bitch’, to use her own words, which led to you and Syd meeting. 

“You think Hallmark sells ‘thank you for being such a little bitch’ cards?” Syd giggles. You know that, despite her choice of words, she actually cares a lot about Carmy. Her and her coworkers are basically family, maybe sometimes a bit dysfunctional, but nonetheless one that does care deeply for one another. Syd had, apparently, stabbed Richie in the ass one time, which they seem to have reconciled nicely from, and somehow only has made Syd all the more attractive to you. 

“I don’t think so, but I can get you some paper and crayons if you wanna get crafty,” 

Her warm, affectionate laughter fills the room while ‘If I ever saw a girl that I needed in this world you are the one for me’  is sung from the speakers and you can’t do anything but agree with the statement. You snuggle a little closer into her and she does the same. The two of you have become completely entangled by now.  

“I love moments like these,” she whispers, her voice filled with affection.

“Yeah, me too,” you reply with a soft sigh.

She dips her head down as you lean up, and your lips meet. What starts out as a slow and gentle kiss soon turns more heated. The two of you move in sync, changing the position on the couch, with Syd now lying beneath you, her back pressed down into the soft cushions, with you  hovering over her, maintaining the kiss without breaking it even once. And you continue until your lungs are burning and you have to stop to catch your breath again. The both of you panting heavily as you break apart but you don’t take long before you again plant your lips on her, this time kissing down her jaw and neck. You feel how she squirms under you, little muffled whines escaping from her closed lips as she grows more desperate for you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper into her skin, your voice filled with admiration. You lift your head again, your eyes finding hers . “Can.. Can I take these off?” Your voice laced with a little shyness as you ask her, your fingers ghost over the hem of her pants. But your shyness disappears when she nods with eagerness, pulling off her sweater as you start to undo her pants which she is quick to kick off, leaving her in only her panties and bra. You take a second to take in the view of her all spread out on the couch for you and you can’t believe how lucky you are to have met her, let alone that she reciprocates your feelings. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” you sigh with admiration, dipping your head down again, this time planting a trail of kisses down from her collarbone towards the vale between her breasts, continuing down her stomach until you get to the band of her underwear. 

“You want me to take these off too?” you ask, looking up at her, through heavy lids, your heart beating loudly in your ears. You and Syd have been taking things slow, the two of you never have been this intimate before, but it feels so right in the moment and the sweet sounds she is making for you only makes your need to taste her even greater. Your eyes lock, she moves her hand down towards you, sweetly cupping your cheek, stroking the pad of her thumb gently over your cheekbone before nodding. “Please, do,” she almost pleads.           

You keep eye contact as you get into a better position. Your fingers tug at her panties as you start to slowly glide them down her legs. As the garment has left her body, Sydney spreads her legs wider for you, offering you a better view of herself, her pussy already dripping from eagerness.         

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” you purr before lowering your head, kissing up her thighs until you reach her glistening cunt. Burying your face between her legs you flatten your tongue against her entrance, sliding your tongue through her wet folds, a warm shiver running through you as you taste her for the first time. You hum into her, loving the way she tastes and feels against your tongue, lapping into her, flicking your tongue against her clit, making her whine out with pleasure which just makes you even more eager to hear more from her.      

“Fuck, right there! Right, fucking, there…” she pants out as you work your tongue a little harder against her.

She bucks her hips upwards, gently pressing her mound against your face. This makes you hum into her pussy again as you feel a warm rush run down your spine by the firm feeling of her against your mouth, which makes her let out a breathy moan from the vibration. Your hands find her hips. Tender fingers, softly digging into her skin as you help her find a rhythm as she starts to gently grind into your mouth.   

Her moans grow louder and higher in pitch, which only makes you move your tongue with even more determination and her body starts to tremble. You move your lips, beginning to slowly suck at her clit as she comes closer and closer to her release. You let your thumb take over the work on her sensitive clit, circling it gently as you start to lick into her again. 

“I-I’m… I’m so close,” she whines out, making you hum into her again, letting her know that you don’t have any intention to stop. You feel how her walls tighten around your tongue, as she starts to cry out in pleasure, sensing how her muscles relax as she starts to come undone on your tongue. You keep going, keep lapping into her, keep fucking her with your tongue as she rides out her climax, and you have never tasted anything sweeter. 

You finally detach your mouth from her entrance, your chin and lips glistening with a mix of her arousal and your own saliva, your eyes blown wide, feeling light, almost drunk from her juices. 

“Come here,” Syd whispers, her pupils dilated, making her already dark eyes look like two glistening forest lakes at night. She is so beautiful, you almost can’t take it. A sweet, gleeful smile on her face as she pulls you up to her again, pulling you into a sweet kiss, the taste of her still on your lips. 

Her hands sneak under your shirt, palming your warm skin underneath before pushing the cotton up your body, prompting you to shred the garment like she had with hers just before. You break the kiss, only for long enough so that you can pull it over your head, flinging it on the ground before connecting your lips again. Her hands find your exposed chest, gently kneading at the soft skin before she ends the kiss, moving her head down, taking your right nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before starting to gently suck it into her mouth. Her hand starts playing with your left nipple. 

You let out a series of soft moans as she works so tenderly on your tits. She lets go of your nipple with a soft ‘pop’ before moving on to your left breast, taking the other into her mouth. Her now free right hand starts to travel down to your entrance, sneaking it into the hem of your pants and down your underwear. 

She slowly slides a finger through your folds before beginning to tease your clit with slow firm circles. You gasp out from the sensation, your body feeling lighter and lighter. after a while she moves her hand, slowly gliding first one, then two, fingers inside of you, stating to slowly fuck you with her fingers. The wet squelching sound of her fingers pumping into you now rings in your ears. 

She keeps going and when she curls her fingers at just the right angle you feel how the last string snaps, falling over the edge. Your eyes roll back in your skull and your toes curl as your climax washes over you in electric hot rushes. You tap her shoulder, making Syd release your nipple so she can kiss your lips instead. She kisses you through your climax, turning you into putty in her hands.      

“That was nice…” She pants when the two of you finally brak apart, a lovesick smile on her face. 

“Yeah… very nice,” you agree, wit a smile mirroring hers. “Should we go get cleaned up?” 

“Yeah, we should, but let’s just stay here for a little while first,” she replies, a tired but blissful smile painting her lips.

So you do. You both lay there, breathing heavily, bodies intertwined, basking in the afterglow of the moment. The room is filled with a mix of warmth, desire, and a fulfilling sense of contentment. Time seems to stand still as you cherish the intimate connection you’ve just shared.

The world outside this moment seems distant and unimportant. All that matters is the warmth of Syd’s body against yours, the rhythm of your heartbeats synchronizing, and the blissful intimacy you’ve found in each other’s arms. The silence between you is comfortable, filled with unspoken words and a profound understanding of the depth of your connection.

[m00nsbaby]

Violent things.

Steven Grant + Marc Spector + Jake Lockley x F! reader. Part I. (Out of 3.)

Tags & warnings. Lots of talks about death, violence, abuse. Inspired by Moon Knight's 5 episode x Corpse Bride. (+ this one is for my delulu girls since the reader is a bit delulu lol.)

Word count. 6.2k

Summary.

"Oh man!" What an interesting accent. "Wow, these meds are really amazing," he whispered as he tried to catch his breath. Hah, he did that too. "I thought I was dead." He hadn't even looked at you properly; he was just suddenly relieved to be in the presence of someone else. "Oh, no," you cleared your throat. "You are dead."

Each person had a different 'other side.'

Except you. Or well, technically, you had it, but it had been a long time since you'd been in it. In fact, apart from the bright colors, you couldn't remember much of it.

You'd been in excessively bright representations of what people imagine as 'heaven,' parties with mead, and you'd even tried candies that would have turned your tongue green if you'd eaten them in life.

Although, of course, that's how the most common ones looked; there were stranger ones too. People seeing themselves in their tiny cat-filled apartment or wandering the halls of their old school. Either way, it was fine because it was only temporary while they reached their destination.

Everyone except you.

And a few others who had the misfortune of lacking emotional intelligence even in death.

Literally.

It's okay, though. Over the years, you got used to this 'life' and the idea that you would never see him again, although getting used to it didn't mean you stopped missing him.

Stopped thinking about him.

Stopped wanting him back.

Anyway, work kept you busy because, yes, even in death, you couldn't escape the damn bureaucracy. You didn't have a real name for your boss because she also looked different to each person; to you, her face was very similar to that of an old friend, even though you couldn't specify which one.

She took pity on you somehow. She explained your situation, although it took you a lot of energy and time to understand it. She did everything possible to keep you from becoming one of those lost souls who simply roamed around here. She also pulled you back onto the path when you began to stray.

"There are 3."

You frowned.

"What do you mean, there are 3?"

"There are 3." she shrugged as you walked through the corridors of the psychiatric void. This was a new scenario, and your clothes were different too. Something more modern, you didn't recognize it as something from your time.

Yes, a few years weren't that long, but fashion moved disgustingly fast in the world of the living.

"Do you think you can handle them?" Should you mention to the boss that she looks like a chatty hippo, or is that the kind of thing you keep quiet to maintain good working relations?

You bit your lip and then nodded.

"Good luck." Her mocking smile was never a good sign.

Before you could object, she had disappeared. You took a deep breath; those were funny expressions that had stuck with you even now that you didn't have to breathe for real.

Your shoes echoed in the empty halls as you headed for what you assumed was the main entrance.

The door opened by itself.

Or rather, it opened before you even extended your hand.

"Whoa." You muttered, your eyes widening at the guy in front of you.

A rebellious curl fell over his forehead, and his huge brown eyes were even wider in surprise. He was dressed appropriately for the situation; it looked like a uniform for a psychiatric ward patient, and although it was loose-fitting, you would swear you could see his muscles from miles away.

And he, on the other hand, practically screamed in your face.

"Shit!" He jumped in place, bringing a hand to his chest as he laughed in disbelief.

Oh yeah, there was a bloodstain right on his chest. Nothing to worry about, not anymore at least; once you died, you technically couldn't die twice.

Although finding a functional washing machine in any of the many 'beyonds' was trickier than it seemed. If this Marc Spector guy was in the same situation as you, it was quite likely that he would spend the rest of eternity with that stain on his clothes.

Unless the boss offered him a job.

It would be wonderful to have him here forever.

Were you overthinking? Probably.

"Oh man!" What an interesting accent. "Wow, these meds are really amazing," he whispered as he tried to catch his breath.

Hah, he did that too.

"I thought I was dead." He hadn't even looked at you properly; he was just suddenly relieved to be in the presence of someone else.

"Oh, no," you cleared your throat. "You are dead."

Your voice sent shivers down his spine, and when he finally bothered to look at you more closely, you could see a touch of fear in his expression.

You were used to it by now, so why did it hurt this time?

"You're joking."

"Maybe if there was someone else to see me lying to you, it would be more fun, don't you think?" You tried to joke, but the poor guy seemed on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

That was a good sign; maybe you could keep him after all.

Marc pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as he tried to regain his composure.

"Do you expect me to believe this is the afterlife?"

"No, not the afterlife, an afterlife. This one is yours, well, for now, this is the path."

He fell silent, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as if his body still needed oxygen.

You waited.

And waited.

And waited.

But he never said anything, so you caught his attention by clearing your throat.

"Welcome, dear… traveler," you murmured as you clumsily searched for your notes in your pockets.

Ah, there they are.

"I will be in charge of…" You continued reading. "Guiding you on your way to…" How could you call this? Heaven? Valhalla? Mictlan? "What comes next."

Marc looked at you as if you were crazy, and you had no choice but to continue.

"It's a place that's difficult for the human mind to comprehend, so for you, it's something more…" You looked around with a furrowed brow. "Familiar."

He scoffed, his tone full of irony.

"I really am crazy," he muttered in a whisper.

"Together, we will traverse the 10 steps that will lead you to eternal rest." Your arm moved awkwardly up and down. What a stupid choreography your boss had given you. "Although," you stepped out of character. "Sometimes they are doors, and it seems that will be the case this time."

"Who are you?" He asked out of nowhere, and you swallowed hard.

"Your guide."

"Are you some kind of… Goddess? Are you God?"

You laughed, partly embarrassed, partly genuinely amused.

"I'm just your guide."

Marc had to settle for your answer.

"Are you ready?"

"Can one be ready for something like this?"

You shook your head but gave him a resigned smile. You felt sorry for him, as well as for all those who passed through your hands, but at least you did your part by taking them to what you would never know.

You offered him your hand, and hesitantly, he took it.

The contact with his skin made you swear that your heart was beating again.

You took a slow step through the corridors of the psychiatric ward with him behind you, his fingers gradually clinging to you. This was the first time in a long time that Marc allowed himself to be afraid, even when his thoughts were divided between his desire to cling to life and, on the other hand, that 'finally' feeling that had been intoxicating him for the past 10 years, ever since Roro left.

A few minutes of walking, and you knew by pure intuition which was the first door.

Unfinished business.

The first scene was… Something.

No one likes to witness the way they died, but much less what happens afterward. Have you ever heard that the last sense you lose is your hearing? Marc could clearly hear Layla scream his name just after the gunshot.

Or at least, his body managed to register the sound because he didn't remember it, but you could clearly see the scene at this moment.

"You left something unfinished." Your voice was as gentle as you could make it as you surrounded his body on the ground.

A strange feeling overcame you as you watched the curly-haired girl kneel beside him.

Holding him, begging him to come back.

Not sadness or pity, as it usually happened; you felt… uncomfortable? Annoyed?

Marc released your hand to get closer, appreciating the scene up close, and you knew how much he wished to touch Layla when his hand moved in her direction, trying to get her attention.

"Layla?" He whispered, his voice broken, his attention focused solely on her. He didn't even look at his body, which was slowly giving in. He didn't realize how she cradled him between her cheeks and kissed his lips one last time just now.

Your stomach churned; fortunately, you had already forgotten when was the last time you had ingested something.

"Baby?" He asked louder, and you knew it was time to intervene.

"She can't hear you," you whispered from behind, only able to observe Marc's back. The way his body contracted and suffered from small spasms due to crying.

Isn't it curious how all those things become muscle memory? Your breathing shouldn't be a problem when you weren't in your physical body, yet these things still happened.

"What were you doing here?" Your gaze wandered through the darkness inside the pyramid, your steps careful as you approached the open tomb of God knows who. A disgusted expression appeared on your lips at the sight of the mummified corpse.

Everything was better when you pretended that maybe you didn't really look like this.

Marc gave an ironic laugh, still crying, but you decided to give him space.

"I was trying to save the world."

You scoffed. 'Well, to each their own,' you thought as your fingers traced the edge of the tomb.

Hopefully, they buried you in something nice and expensive too.

"This might hold you here; we still don't know what will happen next because it's very recent."

"No." He interrupted, still kneeling in front of himself.

It turns out that the last thing his body registered was the way Layla grabbed his chest, taking something that rested on it afterward. The girl stood up, still with a broken heart but doing her best not to collapse.

You recognized that expression quite well.

"She'll take care of it."

Everything around him became blurry, apparently, that was the point at which he stopped fighting.

Marc slowly got to his feet, his eyes red, and he sniffed repeatedly. If you had the chance, maybe you'd tell him that he didn't need to do that, nothing would come out of his nose.

He looked good, though, even after getting shot, he still seemed attractive.

The good thing is that you still had 9 different opportunities to make him stay with you, but there was still one question. What did the boss mean when she said there were 3? An administrative error or something like that?

"She'll figure it out," he sounded sure as he pressed his nose bridge and took deep breaths. "She'll fix it."

"Then this is closed." You shrugged. Over time, you learned which dead ones to trust and which not to. Maybe Marc wasn't so wrong.

Nine opportunities.

"Congratulations." You offered him your hand, and he took it again.

That had to mean something, right?

You didn't pay much attention to the way he looked back, as if that would give him one last look at Layla. She had been gone for a while now. In fact, in the world of the living, this had probably happened hours ago.

The good thing (for him) is that apparently, she hadn't died yet.

Well, for you too, so you wouldn't find her wandering around. Romances that not even death could separate were the worst.

No more was said as you guided him through the passageways of the old pyramids as if you were an expert archaeologist, or perhaps an amateur with a lot of free time. One step forward from both of you, and everything around him looked different.

Vengeance.

"I have to tell you now." The cold streets of New York made you feel alive, especially in the short skirt you were wearing. The breeze cooled your legs and tousled your hair.

This seemed more common, even in the seedy side of the city. Apparently, Marc had been a normal person occasionally in his life, not someone who went on pyramid expeditions for fun.

"You won't be able to get revenge on anyone by being here." You walked ahead, trying to find the next door. It wasn't worth wasting time on this. "Sometimes divine justice serves in your favor and takes care of them, but it's not worth staying for a trivial matter."

And you knew it well.

When Marc's silence seemed suspicious, you looked back.

His clothes had also changed; he was wearing a leather jacket and a rather peculiar cap. It was gray, and it fit him ridiculously well.

He looked at you with wide eyes, his hand still holding yours.

"Cariño?" That accent was new. Did Marc like to play someone else occasionally at night? It wouldn't surprise you from someone like him.

Weird, like you.

Different, perhaps.

"What am I doing here?"

"Oh no, are you one of those?" You confronted him, one hand still holding his, and the other going straight to his face. You opened one of his eyes wider with your fingers, and he stayed still.

Had he drunk too much the night before or something? Jake didn't experience these things, never.

He didn't lose track of time; he didn't dissociate or lose control of his body; he didn't forget, and he didn't sleep.

This didn't make sense, at least not for him.

"You are dead, Marc," your words made his stomach churn. "I'm guiding you, we're only on the second level." Vapor came out of your mouth as if it were freezing, and your body still had that natural warmth that one emits when they are alive.

He furrowed his brow, looking at you as if he were seeing a ghost.

Well, that's what he was doing, but when you're dead, you don't have the right to see other dead people like this.

"I'm not… I'm not Marc."

Oh.

The boss's words made a bit more sense now. So, were they really brothers? Twins perhaps? Or whatever they were called when they were three.

The poor guy seemed about to have a crisis, very similar to Marc when you first found him.

"Jake Lockley." Your mind clicked, as it always did when you had these encounters with the souls you guided. A hazard of the job, there were things you knew and things you didn't.

He nodded slowly.

"Listen, sweetheart." He slowly released your hand, and the gesture didn't please you. I mean, if you couldn't keep Marc, maybe it could be one of the other two.

"I don't know what kind of joke you're playing," he walked past you while searching in his pocket for what seemed to be keys. "You're beautiful, and maybe we had a pretty fun night, but it's likely that what we have won't work, especially when you're calling me by another name and trying to play those little mind games with me, which, by the way, don't affect me in the least…"

Jake bumped into someone as he moved away from you clumsily.

"Sorry," he muttered, still confused. The other person ignored him, but when he looked back, his eyes widened in surprise. "¿Qué mierda?" You heard him mumble as he stumbled, sitting on the pavement.

Turns out Jake had bumped into himself.

And you suppressed the 'I told you so' smile.

"See?" You watched him pass you as well, and after a few seconds, you decided to approach him, extending your hand.

He looked at it in silence before taking it and getting to his feet.

"You're not playing, right?"

"Nope," you let go of his hand as you inspected his face. He looked so similar to Marc, yet so different at the same time.

"Are we dead?"

"I'm a little deader than you, but yes."

He bit his lower lip, and you saw him take off his cap and run a hand through his disheveled curls, more out of desperation than aesthetics.

He took a deep breath several times, more than you could count, and looked back. You saw the other Jake moving away in the crowd, and without saying anything, you turned to follow him without losing track.

Jake had to snap out of his crisis to follow you.

And him.

"Is that it? Are you not going to give me an explanation?" He hurriedly walked, doing his best not to bump into anyone until he realized that no one seemed to be affected by his shoves, not even moving them.

"We can't lose sight of you."

"This has to be a bad dream."

Maybe you liked Marc more than him.

"It's not a dream, Jake." You let out a deep sigh as you continued walking behind him. "You died, Marc did too, and…"

"Steven?"

"Right."

You finally turned to look at him when Jake from his memory stopped in front of a car.

It was a nice car.

"I still don't know what happened to you and Steven, but Marc got shot right…" You touched the center of his chest, and he didn't show how your touch made him shiver. "Here."

He wasn't sure if it was worth explaining to you right now that if Marc died, he would drag them both down with him.

"And who are you?"

"Your guide." You gave up; you would have to go through this again.

"Are you a product of my imagination?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Why do you look like one of my one-night stands?"

"I look like this all the time, actually," you looked down; this outfit was terribly uncomfortable. "Except for the criminally short skirt."

The sound of the door made you look forward. Apparently, the other Jake got into the car when you were distracted.

You opened the rear door of the car and looked at the confused guy in front of you.

"Get in."

And he obeyed; you got in afterward.

They were silent for most of the way, neither of you knew exactly where you were going because Jake had vague memories of this particular memory, if that made sense.

He had traveled this same road so many times for the same purpose that this could be any day of his life.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Your voice broke the silence, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"I was interrogating some guys in Cairo."

Ah, well, it seemed that he was just as strange as Marc.

"I see."

Jake somehow saw himself as the most stable of the three; he had learned to deal with the blows of life that he was forced to take to protect Marc and Steven from them.

But nothing had prepared him for the idea of failing them.

For failing them so horribly.

If he kept thinking, he'd go crazy. Even more.

You didn't know how long you had been here; everything seemed more tedious when Jake decided he didn't want to chat with you, or anyone, for that matter.

You assumed it was shock or something similar, and as for what this scenario meant, you understood why revenge wouldn't retain him.

Because Jake got rid of everyone who got in his way. To him or to Marc.

Both of you watched him drive, dispose of bodies, clean his clothes, and repeat as many times as necessary.

Well, he observed with a disgusted expression, and he took the liberty of covering your eyes with his hand. Well, it wasn't anything you hadn't seen before; apparently, the innocent face always gave the wrong impression.

The night ended with him crawling heavily to his apartment, tired, regretful, and often injured.

You looked at him beside you. Why did he seem so distraught by his own actions?

"So, can we cross revenge off your list?" You tried to joke when the expression on his face weighed on your chest. He didn't hear you; he kept looking at the path he had taken to the apartment.

If this was a divine way to make him regret his actions in life, it was quite functional, to be honest.

"And now?" His eyes fixed on you.

And you looked back at him.

"Do you still have the keys?" You pointed to the car.

He searched his pockets, and the keys jingled. Without saying anything, he opened the front passenger door for you to get in.

The gesture made you bite your lower lip to avoid smiling.

He got in afterward.

"Where are we going?" He started the car, and the roar of the engine added an extra note to the pain he was carrying at the moment.

He wasn't going to drive his car ever again?

Driving was the only thing that brought him peace, and the car was the only thing that belonged to him and only him. In fact, the vehicle was in his name, as was his driver's license. They were the only legal documents with Jake's name on them, even if it had cost him a fortune to bribe those in charge to get them without having to present any other proof that there was nothing suspicious behind them.

They were the only proof that Jake was real.

"I don't know, you'll feel it when we get there," you murmured without bothering to roll up the window; you just let the breeze hit you as the car started moving.

He didn't believe you, but apparently you weren't lying, his instinct was guiding him through the empty and dark streets of New York.

His home.

After a few minutes, Jake took a moment to look at you while you seemed completely absorbed in the detailed memories of Jake, who seemed to have even memorized the signs that adorned the streets he was driving through.

"What are you?" The question sounded a bit more offensive than he would have liked.

"Your guide."

"Are you sure you're not some kind of fantasy of mine?"

Was he flirting with you or insulting you? Either way, you smiled.

"None of that," you cleared your throat and finally looked at him. "I'm at the point where you are right now, and I'm staying here."

Should he inquire further, or were manners no longer as necessary when you were dead?

"For how long?"

"Huh?"

"You seem to know a lot about this; how long have you been like this?"

The way you shrugged was enough of an answer for him.

You had to close your eyes for a few seconds when you realized the effect the question had on you. You usually didn't talk about yourself, especially not with the people you guided. They were always more concerned about themselves, and with good reason; the boss knew well what had happened to you, but having someone directly ask about the situation left a disgusting taste in your mouth.

"My dear."

"Huh?" You looked at him immediately, furrowing your brow.

"What?"

"Did you say something?"

"I didn't say anything." The most similar you came to a normal conversation began when Jake released the wheel for a few seconds, raising both hands to declare himself innocent of whatever you were accusing him of.

"I heard you."

"I didn't say anything, I swear on my… death, I guess." He ran a hand through his chest, furrowing his brow.

Even with a bad feeling, you smiled.

And he did too.

Things were more fun when you collected as many jokes as you could about being dead.

"Alright." Your head returned to its position against the seat, and your gaze returned to the outside.

Jake looked at you for a few extra seconds; he knew that smile well.

"I think I can get us out of here," he thought, hoping that Marc and Steven could hear him.

Strong emotions or feelings.

The movement of the car eventually stopped, and you could no longer feel the leather under your fingers; you recognized the grass immediately.

Your eyes were forced open when a couple of children ran past you, laughing and pushing each other. You were beginning to feel tired, even though you were less than halfway there.

You sighed, your body feeling heavy as you stood up.

A couple was enjoying a homemade BBQ, even though the clouds seemed threatening to ruin it.

"Jake? Marc?" You looked around.

Ah, there he was.

Near the children's mother, looking closely at her with a radiant smile. It wasn't difficult to guess that he was Steven; his messy hair and tired eyes didn't resemble the features of Marc or Jake. Well, they did, but not really. Does that make sense?

Finally, one of the three didn't look at you in fear or confusion.

"Oh Gods, hiya!" His accent made you smile, and you waved back in greeting, approaching him as he was only a few steps away.

"You must be Steven."

"And you must be my guide." As if it were a friendly arrangement, he extended his hand, and you shook it gently, enjoying the contact. "Jake explained to me."

Was there a gap between door and door that you didn't witness for them to have a chance to talk? Well, you'd ask later.

"You seem calm."

"I'm totally freaking out on the inside."

You laughed again and nodded. You liked Steven, you liked him more than the other two.

"What level is this?"

"Third." Your attention shifted to the couple next to you, the woman's huge brown eyes told you in seconds that she was the mother of the three.

That was something they had in common, those lost-puppy eyes.

"Strong emotions or feelings." You took a step closer to her, your eyes scanning her face for more familiarities among the triplets and her.

The little wrinkles at the edges of their eyes when they smiled also seemed to come from her. And the curls definitely came from their father.

"Well, I love my mom." He seemed just as distracted by the scene as you were.

You didn't mention that love, at this point, wasn't one of the emotions that could retain you.

The situation wasn't new to you; there was almost always a familiar memory here. You didn't count friends separately because time had shown you that friends were the family you chose; the lines blended easily in those cases.

Maybe this was the reason why you would stay with one of them, and with just 5 minutes exchanged, Steven seemed like a good choice.

The children ran by your side again, and Steven's attention was completely stolen by them. You tilted your head to the side with tenderness and a slight curiosity.

"They're not ready yet; you can go play for a while, understood?" The taller boy nodded, stopping right in front of his brother, who ended up crashing into him.

Both laughed.

"Is it you?" You pointed to the younger one.

Steven seemed as distant from the situation as you. He shook his head slowly before looking at you as if he wanted an explanation. It took him a few seconds to be able to murmur.

"I don't… I don't remember."

"Marc?" The woman called, causing an amusing scene between the two children, Steven, and you since everyone turned to look at her expectantly. "Take care of Roro, please."

Roro?

"Do you have another brother?" Your voice came out so low that not even poor Steven could hear it.

It was a silent agreement in the way you followed him while he continued to follow the children with his mind in a tangle of thoughts. Was this what Marc had been hiding so eagerly?

You could swear a shiver ran through you from head to toe when your eyes settled on the cave the two children were heading towards, and the thunderclap sealed the deal on the bad omens.

You had witnessed these scenes before. When someone was about to die, it always felt like this. Being sensitive to death was one of the quirks that came with the job.

"Steven?"

He didn't even look at you.

"Lads?"

No answer, obviously.

"It's… It's dangerous, they shouldn't…" He seemed to have lost his breath. "They are going to..."

And you nodded slowly.

"I know."

The small steps were only a few meters away from you as the rain intensified. Both you and Steven were getting wet.

"Let me…" He was never able to form a complete sentence. "I know I can…"

You knew he couldn't, but you still followed him into the cave.

You walked in darkness for a very short time, with "I want my mommy" echoing in your ears over and over again.

The cave seemed to end in the living room of what you guessed was their house. Both of you arrived dripping wet, Steven with red eyes after what he had just witnessed.

You were still wondering what role he played in all of this.

Had Marc's emotional burden somehow reached him? After all, he was also their brother, or at least it seemed like it.

You stopped abruptly when both encountered Steven's mother, hands on her hips, her cheeks red with anger. Steven jerked when she yelled the words, "This is all your fault."

Everything was happening too fast, even for you, who had learned the art of controlling the emotions of the moment. It was usually the boss who handled these kinds of situations.

You were never strong enough.

You moved past the scene, your hand learned to Steven's wrist as you directed him upstairs. He couldn't stop looking as he moved awkwardly, stumbling over his own feet.

"It's this way," you whispered, leading him into the room.

You sighed calmly when finally the silence enveloped you. Inside, one of the children was playing alone. The scene tugged at your heartstrings a little more, but hey, at least there was no one screaming.

"I must be remembering wrong," he whispered as a last hope while he sat on the floor, defeated. He took a seat in front of the child. "It must be Marc's doing."

You pursed your lips, deciding not to say anything as you watched his hands tremble. This kind of thing wasn't in the manual.

"Maybe so," you gave him false hope before knocks on the door diverted both of your attention.

"Open the damn door, Marc!"

Another shiver, as horrible as the first one.

"It's not my mom, it's not my mom," the child whispered, covering his hands. Steven and you could do nothing but watch.

"Open this door!" More loud pounding.

More knocks, more panic, more fear.

Until the voice of the kid made you look again.

"Bloody hell! Look at the state of this place." His little eyes focused on a bunch of Legos in front of him. They weren't even scattered. "Better sort it out before mum sees it." His accent was the same as… Steven's.

"Marc! Open this door right now!"

Witnessing that was enough to clear your doubts; you weren't foolish. After your death, no one could really receit you. Your brain easily connected the dots, and apparently, Steven's did too; he had more clues than you did up to that point.

They weren't brothers.

Marc, Steven, and Jake shared the same body.

"When danger is near," Steven narrowed his eyes as he read from the poster on the wall above the child, "Steven Grant has no fear."

He took a deep breath through his mouth with heaviness.

"He made me up." That was the next thing he said, and you couldn't help but watch the child as he organized his Legos.

The door burst open with a shove, and that was your next cue; it was time to get out of there.

"Steven?"

Wendy, whom you had been referring to as 'the mother,' entered the room, her eyes red, and an aroma of alcohol that even you could sense.

"You are going to learn…" She took Marc's belt, the one that hung next to his toys. It was a horrible parallel, and you could swear your chest hurt. "to listen."

Her steps were slow as she coiled the belt in her hand.

"Steven?" You whispered, pushing him in the chest. He stood on tiptoe to get a better view of the scene.

"I wanna see what she did." He mumbled with difficulty.

You gave him another push with all your might.

"Steven, we have to go."

"Let me see what she did." That was the last thing he said before you slammed the door shut, muffling the poor child's cries of pain inside the room.

"I don't hate her." It was the only thing he could say after what seemed like hours. The sun seemed to have set.

You nodded slowly, your head resting against the door just like his.

"I know."

"She was sad."

You had to swallow the urge to tell him that it didn't justify what she did, but you chose to nod and offer him some peace.

"She was."

There were a few more seconds of silence before you murmured, "We have to go."

He nodded and was the first to stand up, intending to offer you his hand, just as you had done with Jake a while ago. You took his hand and stood up, but you didn't let go of his hand.

You descended the stairs slowly; the house suddenly seemed filled with people. Apparently, this wasn't over yet, and you started to seriously think that Steven wouldn't get out of here. How much more could his heart take?

Everything seemed blurry, although of course, you didn't know that the reason behind it was that Marc had never entered the house that day; the memory was clouded by a window in between.

"What happened here?" He whispered behind you.

"Your mom, Steven."

Her photo was on one of the tables, behind two long candles.

"Don't talk nonsense." He took a few steps forward to see what you were seeing. "My mom and I already sorted this out; it must have been something that ha- happened." They were all wearing black clothes around him. "in the past." He completed in a whisper.

You looked at him again, his eyes filled with tears as he shook his head.

"No, no, this can't…" He swallowed hard, making your own throat ache in response. "Marc would have told me."

You doubted it, but it wasn't the time to remind him that Marc seemed to be hiding many things from him.

"No, this can't be happening." He mumbled, again losing his ability to string sentences together.

Breaking your heart once again. The front door of the house opened in front of both of you, and you understood that it was time to move on.

Without saying anything, you tapped his shoulder, getting his attention. You pointed to Marc outside the house, just a few meters away, drinking from his flask with teary eyes.

"Marc?" He whispered to himself as he moved awkwardly and quickly towards him, leaving the house with you behind.

You decided to give him space; his memory allowed you to stroll through a couple of nearby gardens, and you waited on the grass while Steven processed the moment when Marc finally broke down.

Kneeling on the pavement, his body tense until the English accent of the other became noticeable in the way he spoke to himself.

The place was getting darker, and after a few hours, you sat on the sidewalk, watching the scene from afar. Steven had the opportunity to digest the situation as much as he could, and although for any normal person this would have been the end, you knew this wasn't the point for Steven.

He was understanding, strong within his sensitivity, and he knew how to deal with things that Marc couldn't.

You finally understood the feeling he was facing and what he was releasing.

Grief.

The grief of losing his mother as a child, and the grief of losing her again as an adult. His brother, his father.

The grief of losing himself while trying to understand that he wasn't 'the original' but Marc.

Meanwhile, as the crying finally subsided, Steven was talking to himself. Or so it seemed, because no one else (meaning you) could hear the voices of Jake and Marc arguing with him. "I know how to get us out of here." "Jake, we're not going to harm her." They didn't have to say more for Steven to understand that they were referring to you. "I'm just saying it might be an easy job." "Are you suggesting we kill someone who's already dead? You've truly outdone yourself." "At least I'm looking for a solution, unlike you, Mr. 'resigned.'" "We can't leave Layla alone," Steven whispered, his gaze fixed on you in the distance. "See? Steven's on my side." Marc rolled his eyes. "And what do you want to do?" "I'm just saying… if there's a way out of here, she's the one who knows it."

Meanwhile, when the imaginary crickets began to resonate through Marc's blurry memory, Steven returned to you.

"Hey?" You looked at him, who knows how long you had had your eyes closed. "Can we continue?"

You nodded and gave him a small smile.

"Let's move on."

Mk's tag list :)@ninebluehearts @icreatedthisat317am @onefinnedwonder-fm @shousha133

[nottyourlover]

Broken Bonds - ch 2

a/n: prolly 4 ch's now :) sorry this took 800 years i kinda put off writing this bc i didnt want to disappoint but here it is.

ALSO SORRY THERE WILL MOST LIKELY BE ~7 WEEKS OF HIATUS AFTER THIS.

series summary: as azriel leaves for a long mission in vallahan, you find that clinging onto old bonds does nothing to heal them.

contains: angst, still mental health themes, pregnant y/n, off-page death, language. slowburn ???????

word count: 8506 (oh gosh)

ch 1 // ch 3

***

Many weeks passed, and with each day, the void left by Azriel's absence grew wider, but luckily you found yourself surrounded with some of the best people in the world, you thought. As always, Feyre was wonderful; she helped you get out of bed, she re-ignited your passions. She listened to you vent about your relationship, gave you advice and she constantly surprised you, always with a little gift from a new store in The Rainbow. However, one of the best surprises you received didn't come from Feyre.

About two weeks after Azriel's departure you had received a letter from your childhood friend Aiden and his now fiance, Malakai. You couldn't believe it, because it had been centuries since you'd seen Aiden, let alone been contacted by him, but on the other hand you saw Malakai weekly. He was Cassian's right-hand man, and you learnt from him after the wedding that Aiden had become a healer who travelled around Prythian, practicing in all the courts. Their jobs were different in every way, but they complemented each other perfectly.

It was unexpected, the letter, but you couldn't have been happier to hear from them, especially because the envelope held an invitation their wedding.

The wedding was a modest celebration, but all the Inner Court members attended to show their support for the happy couple. Kai had known Cassian, Rhys and Azriel for years, since training together for the Blood Rite, and had stayed in touch for centuries after. He was now Cassian's Lieutenant General who commanded the Night Court's forces where Cassian was otherwise preoccupied with Inner Circle business. You knew him from the occasional training session, and you were glad that the two of you had gotten a lot closer after the wedding. He had become fast friends with the rest of the Inner Circle, and after the wedding Aiden also befriended them. It was almost laughable how you had managed to miss that the male Kai talked so fondly about, the healer that had stolen his heart, was your friend. Your Aiden.

Even if the last few months of your own life were less than ideal, the newly-wed couple had become your rocks, and you knew they would eventually become amazing parents since they were so doting towards you and your baby.

You were still early in your pregnancy but careful nonetheless. Although you still planned to work for as long as you could in an attempt to maintain some sense of normalcy, you quickly realised that it was going to be somewhat of a struggle hiding your pregnancy from the rest of the Inner Circle for any longer. Training was not any easier as no one suspected anything, and Mor and Cass still held their monthly game nights when they drank like there was no tomorrow.

Under Feyre's insistence, you had lessened your field work and so majority of your days consisted of writing letters to the other High Lords and leaders in attempt to strengthen alliances and unite the various factions within Prythian, hoping that it would create a better world for your child to grow up in. Due to past efforts, relations with the Day, Dawn, Summer and Winter courts were strong, and you were certain you had their support. The Spring Court with Tamlin, and Autumn with Beron were other matters, however. Perhaps you would ask Feyre to use her sway with Lucien who could convince Tamlin to at least reply to one of your letters, but you had recently heard Lucian say that he had not visited Spring in a long while, instead opting to stay with the Band of Exiles. Then you thought about High Lord Beron. He was a grumpy, disagreeable High Lord, and also a problem for another day, you had finally decided.

The first week and a half after Azriel's departure, you had rarely gotten out of bed, even when Feyre had tempted you with tarts. You felt bad that Cassian looked so regretful when he couldn't cheer you up when you neglected morning trainings those first few weeks. He thought it was because you were missing Azriel, and you were, but even more so, you were worrying over your pregnancy. When Feyre had finally managed to get you out of the house, the two of you mainly walked up and down The Rainbow, visiting the old bookstores and trying all the new bakeries.

Aiden was staying in Velaris for his honeymoon, but he still insisted on working, the kind male he was. You found happiness in visiting his healing clinic, helping him organise records and patient data. Listening to stories of his travels had inspired you like nothing else could. He told you about the catacombs under the Dawn Court, the unique architecture and history of Day.

His stories made you miss your mate, of the adventures the two of you had planned for the future, but you vowed that one day you'd travel with Azriel again. You tugged on the bond softly, something you had been doing since he left to feel connected. You weren't even sure if he could feel it though, since he never 'replied'.

Over the course of around two and a half months, you started to feel lighter. When you thought of your mate's return you started to feel optimistic. Maybe a break was the right decision, no matter how unplanned it initially was.

***

You had been spending most of your Sundays in Aiden's clinic, him helping with the pregnancy and keeping you company. You were browsing his bookshelves when you stumbled upon a book about Illyrian anatomy. It hadn't fully dawned on you yet that the child you were bringing into this world was likely going to come out with wings, but Aiden assured you the birth was not going to be too difficult seeing that you were half-Illyrian yourself. Your father had been an awful person, but at least he gave you the gift that would allow you to start a family with the one that you loved.

Obviously, a lot of trauma and pain occurred at a health clinic, but there was lots of warmth and beauty too, and it was becoming more apparent to you than ever. The young fae that lived in Velaris would occasionally come knocking to sell their sweets, or on quiet afternoons, Aiden would seek them out and give them some harmless (but hilarious) potions that would do crazy things, like temporarily turn their bodies invisible, colour their hair an electric blue, or even make them grow scales. Aiden was the finest healer in Prythian, and you were disappointed he could not stay for much longer than his honeymoon period before he needed to return to the road.

One such Sunday, the 12th week of your pregnancy had finally arrived. You were looking at your reflection in the full-length mirror, hand on your stomach.

You were showing. This was real.

You admired the swell of your stomach under the light, flowing dress. You looked... healthy. Glowing, even. Your features were not so hollowed out anymore, your cheeks fuller and eyes brighter, filled with shine. You felt better than ever.

But it was heartbreaking that your mate's absence had caused this, in a roundabout way. You closed your eyes, taking in this special moment. You reached to tug on the bond, and you swore you felt a glimmer of warmth before the string in your mind felt cold once more.

Aiden's voice dragged you out of your haze. "Y/n, are you ready to do the scan?" he asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

An "ultrasound" is what Aiden had called it. On his travels to the mortal lands, he had studied in the most advanced medical institutions on offer and was bringing this human technology to Faerie. This ultrasound was supposedly a sort of test they did on mortals with child, to verify the health and gender of the baby, and he was going to perform one on you today with the help of some of his healer magic to help.

"Just lay back on here, your dress should be stretchy enough for you to just lift it up..." Aiden trailed off as he fiddled with a tub of gel and a weird device, he explained he was going to lightly put on your stomach.

"In the Mortal Lands, they have these screens that show the mother the baby, but since I couldn't lug back a large computer, I'll compensate with a simple incantation. Unfortunately, this does mean you won't be able to keep any physical images of your baby."

You frowned slightly. You didn't even know it was on the table, to keep pictures of the little one growing inside you. You sighed a little as you readjusted the pillow and Aiden got to cleaning up. They would've been nice for Azriel to see, you supposed.

"Oh. That's okay, there's nothing you can do about it," is what you settled on saying. It had been centuries since the you had seen Aiden again, and after being somewhat abruptly pushed into each other's lives again... it was awkward, sometimes.

"I trust you," you added, "But exactly how many times has this magic-and-mortal-device combination been used for ultrasounds?"

Aiden flashed you the same boyish grin that got the two of you out of trouble when you were younger and given that your mother was... well, who she was, that was a difficult feat indeed. It was one of the reasons you had stuck with the slightly infuriating male who stood before you today; he would always protect you. Of course, this was until you had lost touch. "Well..." he pretended to do a thinking pose. You hoped he was joking.

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you doubted he could even see you. "Aiden? This is safe, right?"

"Just kidding, y/n. Of course, it is safe for use and has been trialed numerous times."

"Not funny." You muttered to yourself.

Under Aiden's instruction, you lifted up your dress until it was just under your bust. The masses of fabric were somewhat blocking your vision, but even so, you lifted your neck slightly to try see what Aiden was doing.

"It's interesting how mortals compensate for not having magic, this gel is especially interesting," he mused. He had become such an intellect, always curious and ready to learn. You were somewhat shocked to see what he'd made of himself, so different from that class clown you used to know.

You couldn't do more than make what hopefully came out as a sound of interest, as you weren't really able to see what "gel" your friend was even referring to.

"This might feel a bit cold," Aiden said, before he applied a thin layer of a wet, smooth mixture to your stomach. "It'll help this little machine to see your womb."

"Sure," you reply. What else could be said?

"Oh! Wait." You add abruptly. Aiden stopped his movements instantly. "I... don't want to know the gender." You finished, chewing your lip slightly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yet. I mean, yes. I don't want to know yet. I'll find out when everyone else does, whenever that is."

Aiden sent you a confident smile. "Okay, y/n/n."

After that, he seemed to sense your nervousness, and so after the gel was applied, Aiden placed a comforting hand on yours, which were busy pulling at the seams of your dress. The clothing suddenly felt too thick, and the breezy material no longer cooled your skin, but instead made it itch, and the back of your neck felt hot. He changed the positioning of your bed with a small flick of his wrist, in a swift motion. Slowly, your upper body rose to a sitting position while your legs stayed flat. This way, you could see what was happening.

Then you heard it, and suddenly, there was too much to say.

Unmistakably, there was thumping. Muffled thumping that seemed to echo around the room.

Aiden had big grin on his face. He met your eyes only for a moment before returning to the task literally in front of him. You realised he was concentrating hard on a small floating projection, a clear screen that showed all sorts of charts and figures. In the center of the clear screen there was a black rectangle that had something moving in it. Different shades of greys and white danced across the screen in pixelated motions but they all moved together, as if they were forming something whole.

"Is that...?" you asked softly. You couldn't get the words out, because your heart was in your throat. It was difficult to see, from the weird angle that you observed the screen in, but it couldn't have been anything else.

Just like when you were kids, he read your mind.

"Yes, y/n," he breathed softly. His fingers floated across the keyboard on the bedside table. which you suspected was somehow connected to Aiden's magical projection.

The perfect mix of fae magic and mortal engineering.

At last, Aiden spoke.

"That's the heartbeat."

***

It had been 2 weeks since that first ultrasound, and you were talking with Feyre about breaking the news to the rest of your friends. The two of you were sitting in the courtyard, the late afternoon sun casting its warm, friendly glow. You marveled at the beauty of the gardens a "Oh, I'm so excited for you! Your baby is going to be spoiled like crazy," your friend exclaimed fondly, a big grin on her face.

Hearing Feyre's enthusiasm calmed your nerves immensely, and you reached for your High Lady's hand. "I wish Az was here," you admitted, "if he was, I'd do something bigger. I think I'm just going to tell everyone at dinner."

Feyre's glance softened at the mention of your mate. "That sounds good, but y/n, I hate to mention this now but when are you going to tell Azriel?"

You bit your lip, averting eye contact. "I'm not sure, actually. Whenever's best, I suppose."

"You can be honest with me, y/n/n. I just think you should tell him."

"Of course I'm going to tell him."

"But your baby's going to be born before he gets back, surely you're not going to have him come home blind-" Feyre said insistently.

You started to get a little annoyed. "I will tell him, Feyre. He will not 'come home blind'."

But were you sure? Would Azriel even reply to your letters? Would he care enough to write more than his usual 5 sentences? A pain ran through your heart as you recalled the last time you wrote was about a month ago. He hadn't replied. You didn't want him to be distracted on the mission, or worse, hurt himself because he was worrying.

Feyre could read your expression. "Are you really thinking about lying to your mate? About your child. His child, y/n. It's Azriel's too."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. "Gods, Feyre. You think I don't know that? Stop pushing this, it's my decision and if I want to leave it until he comes back... then that's on me." But deep down you knew she was right.

Your words just hung between you as the conversation ended. You didn't believe what you just said, and by the silence that fell, you could tell Feyre didn't either.

The two of you sat in your respective chairs and avoided eye contact, Feyre was fiddling with the sash on her dress, and you were looking into the sky, eyes squinting as you immediately regretted staring straight into the sun.

"Feyre, darling?" called Rhys' smooth voice. You glanced at your wristwatch, which indicated Feyre and Rhys' meeting was about to start. You sighed a little; you would have to apologise later.

"Here, Rhys!" Feyre quickly gathered her things but put a comforting hand on your shoulder as she passed. "Bye, y/n."

Then Rhys whisked Feyre away, leaving you alone in the courtyard.

You didn't want to keep sitting in the courtyard rethinking your conversation with Feyre. Or perhaps was it an argument? You quickly left the gardens as soon as the sun started setting, in hopes you would bump into another one of your friends. You walked towards the door to the main house and luckily, the moment you turned around after closing the door, there was Kai, gathering some items in a satchel, looking like he was about to leave.

You wondered if you should bother him as he looked busy, but before you could sneak off, it seemed that Kai used his big-brother senses because he turned around and spotted you.

"Y/n! My favourite person." He beamed, tucking strands of his golden hair behind his ears.

"I think Aiden might take some offense to that statement." You approached him smiling, yet slightly embarrassed he had almost caught you jumping over a couch.

"I'm sure he agrees with my sentiment." Your friend smiled.

"Going somewhere?"

"Just off to the Night Markets to buy a sheath for Aiden's present. It's a dagger, from my last mission overseas," He cocked his head slightly, as if trying to see if you were okay. "Would you like to join me?" Kai broke into a beaming smile. "We can get ice-cream."

You couldn't help grin as his words lit you up. The two of you used to always get ice-cream together, it was your thing. The ice-cream stores in Velaris changed their flavours daily, always a mix of aromatic spices and exotic fruits that somehow blended perfectly together. It was well-known amongst all your friends that Night Court ice-cream was one of your favourite things, and almost every birthday you got a tub of your favourite flavour, whatever it was. It reminded you of happier days, and some of your favourite memories consisted of you, laughing along with Kai over large cones of the sweet, icy treat.

"Really? I'd love to!" This is exactly what you needed to help you take your mind off your disagreement with Feyre. "I hope I'm not intruding though."

"You could never intrude. Besides, I could use another set of eyes. You've seen my wardrobe; I don't exactly choose the most stylish things." He bumped your shoulder affectionately.

You snickered. "That I have. Then you're lucky I took pity on you and offered my services to you."

Ever the drama queen, Kai lowered himself into a deep bow, "I thank you then, y/n."

Being with Kai had lifted your mood almost instantly. You had confided in him through your highs and lows, and when you had shown such intimate parts of yourself to another, it was easy to settle into comfortable companionship. He was like an older brother to you, one of your closest friends.

You watched Velaris' bustling marketplaces in awe as Kai soared through the air, his wings flapping. It had been a while since you had come out to see the signature Night Markets, but it was just as breathtaking as you remembered. There were crowds everywhere, and each store had twinkling lights. It was dark now, the light from each stall was illuminating the air around it, the mountains were shining a soft white from the snow, and you felt like you had returned home to the familiar sights, sounds and smells.

Kai led you to a few shops, and gods, it was lucky you were there. Somehow, he managed to pick out some of the strangest, weirdest designs that there were. It took almost 20 minutes of convincing before Kai discarded a sheath that was covered in ridiculous dyed fur that also had googly eyes stuck to the front, with eyebrows that jiggled when you removed the dagger.

"It's like an adorable fluffy animal!" He exclaimed.

"Kai, no. It looks like a mutilated toy rodent. I think I see bugs moving in the fur, and it smells like Cassian after training."

Kai whistled. "Harsh critic."

You shrugged, looping your arm through his to drag him back through the door. "I just saved your marriage, my friend."

Eventually you two of you picked a simple design. A sleek black design with silver buckles that was functional enough to store a pen or two, as well. Perfect for Aiden. Knowing him, he probably would use the sheath to store some of his equipment for operations, and the like.

"Thanks for helping me tonight," Kai smiled. "I owe you one."

"Don't mention it. All you ever need to owe me is some ice-cream." You almost jumped when you saw the old gelateria where the two of you frequented decades ago. Had it really been decades?

Kai seemed to be thinking the same thing because the moment the two of you sat down, he smiled, wistfully asking, "Do you remember the last time we came here?"

You hummed in thought, trying to come up with an answer. "I don't think I do. Must've been to celebrate something?"

Kai grinned. "No, not to celebrate. I remember," he started.

"Shocking how someone so old has a better memory than me." you smirked.

"Hush, y/n/n. Surely you remember, as it concerns your favourite person."

"My favourite person? So, not you then," you laughed.

"I'm wounded." Kai replied, deadpan. "No, anyway. I mean Azriel. You came to me after a big fight with Azzy."

You opened your mouth in shock. "I can't believe you still remember that!"

"Well, hard to forget," he said, dryly. "I had never seen you so upset." His expression turned pensive and worried, as if he was sensing the truth in your expression, which had turned from shocked to anxious with one sentence. He was sensing that maybe you weren't letting on exactly how saddened you were regarding the situation with Azriel. Of course, only Feyre and Aiden knew you were with child, and this factor contributed greatly.

"You know, because now you two are doing a lot more than just argue..." Malakai tried to lighten the mood, and for a second it worked. Then he did that stupid thing that mortals do; he made a "kissy face"... and then some.

Your eyes widened, but you had a big grin on your face. "Gods, Malakai! You did not just do that in public!" but your friend just smirked, innocently shrugging his shoulders. You wouldn't stay mad at him anyway. Never could.

The two of you finished your cones in silence.

"Let's walk around for a bit," Kai said, wiping his hands with a napkin.

"Okay, sure."

You and Kai walked behind the bustling marketplace to a lone bench where the two of you used to come all the time. It was your spot.

"I do have something to tell you, though."

"Oh yeah?" Kai looked as if he was trying to guess your news.

You took a breath in to steady yourself. "I'm telling you before most of the others... because I trust you. And I love you, you've always been..." another small inhale. "Maybe you can help me figure out what to do."

Kai swiveled so he was facing you more. "Of course," he smiled. "You know I'd do anything for you."

You smiled gratefully. "You may know that Azriel didn't really leave me on the best terms... Well, uh, he didn't leave me, specifically, you know, but I just mean that we'd argued before he left." You rambled. "A lot, actually. We argued a lot."

Kai put a comforting hand on your arm. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready," he said gently, kindly.

Kai kindness overwhelmed you, but lately it had felt like Feyre was treating you a bit like a broken doll, and she was just waiting for you to finally crack. Being doted on wasn't a bad thing, but it felt suffocating especially now, and you felt Feyre's time was wasted when you realised that only one thing would make you feel better about this situation, you were too much a coward to do. It should've been easy, telling Azriel he was going to be a father. You were good at writing, letters especially. So why couldn't you tell Azriel?

Everything is just more complicated when love is involved.

You cleared your throat. "Sorry. I'm fine. I'm ready to talk about it, I promise."

"Okay," Kai nodded. "No pressure."

"I'mfourteenweekspregnantandAzrieldoesn'tknow." The words spilled out like a waterfall. A small brook, perhaps. All in one motion but in a low whisper. There was no going back now, but it seemed Kai hadn't heard your jumble of words.

"You're... what?"

"Pregnant. I'm 14 weeks pregnant and Az- Azriel doesn't know." you were dangerously close to tears, but you felt a million times better now that you had told someone else.

Kai was silent for a dangerously long time. Then his mouth curved into a small grin. "Wow, y/n. I'm so happy for you!" and then he clarified, upon seeing your slightly startled expression. "I know you've been wanting to start a family for a while now, and you're the most deserving person to have your dream come true." He took a deep breath in. "I'll admit it's difficult that Azriel doesn't know, but you're strong, and we can work through this together."

You had started to cry. "S-sorry, I'm happy too, I- I don't know what to do. I've been k-keeping it from you for so long, and I just don't know what to do." Your voice broke.

"You don't need to apologise, I get it. It's going to be difficult, y/n, but you don't need to do it alone."

"You've kept a pregnancy from Aiden before?" you sniffed.

He smiled softly, wiping a trickling tear. "No, but I know relationships take work. What you and Az are going through is only natural, and you're both the strongest people I know. I see the bond you two have, and it's like no other I've seen." He stretched over the table to wipe away a tear falling down your cheek. "It's beautiful, y/n. I know you, and I know Az. He will support you, and whatever you choose, so will I."

You sniffed again, wiping away more tears. Gods, there were a lot of tears on your face. Kai pulled a large, thick handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to you.

"Aiden makes me carry it around, the massive thing. A real inconvenience. However, I've been told it makes an excellent torniquet." the warrior shrugged.

You managed a laugh. "Thanks."

Kai's expression softened. "Are you happy?"

His question caught you by surprise. "I've been processing these part few weeks. We were fighting because just noticed Azriel got increasingly unenthusiastic about our dates. About me," you felt the lump in your throat as you spilled your heart out. "S-sometimes I feel the b-bond go cold. Since he's been gone I can barely feel it, Malakai. I have to reach oh-so-far for something that should be permanent. Something that should be natural, and easy."

Kai wrapped you up in a hug, and you rested your head on his shoulder.

You took a pause. "But am I happy? I think so. If I can work this out with Az, then I will be. Really happy." You smiled slightly at the thought.

Kai nodded knowingly.

"Looks like you've only gotten wiser with age," you noted, slightly sad. Where'd all the time gone?"

"I guess we've both just gotten busier these past few centuries. You were sorting out your... confusing friendship with Azriel," you let out a laugh at that. Confusing was certaintly one word you could use to describe the relationship you and Az had before mating. Kai continued. "Well, and then you found out you were mates, but I was busy training here while trying to keep my relationship from my parents."

Your smile dropped a little. "But they were at your wedding, are you guys still okay?"

"Thanks for your concern, but we're all good. It's just that when I was younger, I saw how the villagers treated my sister when she confessed to me she favoured females, and word got out. It was a miracle no one blabbed to my parents before she finally told them decades later," he smiled. "I'm lucky my family are so supportive."

"I have a pretty great family too," you squeezed his hand.

The two of you sat in silence for a beat, smiling.

"Wait, before you said '"most" of the others know about your pregnancy. Who else knows?" Kai asked after a moment.

"Well, Madja, obviously, and Feyre and Aiden."

"My Aiden? He kept this from me?" The Lieutenant's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head. Aiden was definitely about to receive a stern lecture about how his wedding vows promised no lies.

You laughed. "Well, smart guy, your Aiden is a healer, and I couldn't exactly go visit Madja because Rhys is always there on High Lord business, and Cass occasionally brings his soldiers there for checkups, you know this. Besides, Aiden's clinic is more private, and I like getting priority service," you replied, smug.

Kai sighed, "And here I was thinking that I was the only one getting that service. When you think you know someone." he tutted.

"Well, people surprise you." You couldn't help but bitterly think "Just like my mate did."

"But I know your news before Cass?" When you nodded, he did a celebratory fist pump. "I always knew I was your favourite. $5 for me, baby."

"Don't be silly, I love you Illyrian babies all equally. Wait, you guys bet on me?"

Kai snorted, choosing to ignore your latter comment, but the gleam in his bright blue eyes told you all you needed to know.

You just rolled your eyes. "When do you think I should tell the rest of our friends?"

Kai composed himself as he realised you were jumping back to serious conversation. He cleared his throat, and said, "Well, you want to tell them all together, right?"

When you nodded, he continued. "So, logically, unless you want to tell everyone while they're drunk playing board games, or drunk, dancing at Rita's, I'd say your best bet is at our group dinners, but you know, tell them early, so they're not too drunk." He gave a small smile.

"That's what I was thinking. Gods, when's the next dinner again?"

You counted what day of the week it was in your head. If you guys usually gathered for dinner on Fridays, but the Velaris Night Markets occurred on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays... but Thursdays were when Feyre and Rhys had their meetings (which you remembered Feyre had gone to that afternoon), it would mean that the next family dinner was...

"Tomorrow," Kai finished helpfully. "Friday."

"That's soon," you tried not to sound too panicked.

"Luckily you have me to help you then."

***

The Inner Circle sat around the grand dinner table in the beautifully adorned dining room of the Night Court. The soft glow of candlelight danced on their faces, creating an atmosphere of warmth and camaraderie. Feyre and Rhysand were engaged in a lighthearted banter, their eyes filled with affection, while Mor, Amren, and Cassian laughed along, their spirits high. Nesta had her hand on Cassian's shoulder, and Elain was talking with Nuala. Aiden and Kai were sitting across from you, Kai's eyes trying to meet your own. Tonight would be the big night.

As the conversation lulled, your heart pounded in your chest, your hands clammy with nerves. Taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage, your voice slightly shaky but resolute, and cleared your throat to gain everyone's attention. Feyre's eyes met yours with a flash of concern, then understanding. You sent her an unsure smile and nodded slightly, notifying her that you were ready to share the news with your family.

"I... um, I have something important to share with all of you," you began, your eyes flickering with a mix of vulnerability and determination. You looked towards Kai and Aiden; both of them looked ecstatic, and you could tell Kai was reigning in his emotions. The room fell into an expectant silence as every member of the Inner Circle turned their gaze towards you, their expressions a blend of curiosity and concern.

Your eyes darted around the table, locking with each person's gaze, drawing strength from their unwavering support. You continued, "I'm pregnant."

The room erupted in a cacophony of reactions. Cassian's jaw dropped; a half-chewed bite of food forgotten in his mouth. Rhysand, startled by the unexpected news, coughed and choked on his wine, while Feyre, caught between annoyance and concern, hit his shoulder. She caught your eye and sent you a look that apologised for Rhys' behaviour.

"He doesn't mean it like that!" she mouthed. For the first time in your life, you hoped your expression betrayed your thoughts. "I'm sorry", you were trying to convey. "I love you". Feyre nodded once and smiled, and you knew she understood.

Mor was the first one to say something. She let out an excited gasp, clapping her hands together. "Y/n, that's amazing! You're going to be a wonderful mother," she exclaimed, her eyes shining with genuine joy.

You felt everyone else's eyes on you. Amren had narrowed her eyes, and Varian was looking quite uncomfortable. Oh dear.

You felt a bittersweet mixture of relief and apprehension wash over you as you glanced around the table, searching for comfort amidst the tumultuous sea of emotions. Everyone looked pleased though, it seemed the extra 5 seconds of processing time had done wonders. Even Amren had a slight smile on her face now, and Varian looked less... strange.

Rhys, having gathered himself now, spoke next, a beaming smile on his face. "I'm so happy for you, y/n! You and Azriel deserve this. How'd he take the news?"

You hesitated, your eyes dropping to your plate, tracing the intricate patterns etched onto the fine China. You could feel the glances of Feyre, Aiden and Kai on you.

"I... uh.... haven't told him yet," and then there was silence in the room again.

The weight of your words was sinking in for your friends.

"I don't want to get into it now, and- and ruin our evening," you said, voice shaking slightly. Perhaps you'd already ruined the evening, if the heavy silence was any indication. "But we haven't exactly been on the best terms lately. We were fighting all up until he left, and I- I can barely feel the bond anymore. He hasn't written me back in a month.

With that bomb dropped, you looked up to the ceiling, blinking away tears.

"I'm scared."

Cassian, recovering from his initial shock, reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on your trembling one. "We're here for you, y/n," he reassured you, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth. "And when Az comes back, we'll figure it out together. You won't be alone in this. I can't believe it. You're pregnant." He finished with a joyous laugh.

Aiden chimed in, "We love you, y/n. As long as we're here, you don't have to do anything alone."

"You have the best support system possible; one that has been formed through years of hardship. No bond is stronger than this group bond, y/n." Kai continued. "Your pregnancy will be a beautiful thing."

Nesta spoke up next. "You can count on us for anything, y/n/n. I know you must have concerns, but now you don't have to carry them alone." You sent her a grateful smile, to which she returned.

"It'll fly by, the 10 months. Enjoy the process. Plus, you'll look great with the pregnancy glow." Feyre laughed.

Then Elain cleared her throat - daintily, if that was possible. "I'm happy for you too, y/n. Your child is lucky to have you as a mother, and... I know we're not too close, but you can count on me." She smiled; her cheeks rosy as all the attention turned to her.

You were in shock. That was the most you'd ever heard Elain speak, especially in front of everyone. You reached across the table and lightly put your hand on hers.

Surprisingly, Amren said, "You're in capable hands, y/n. It'll be such a joy having another Nyx around." The table chuckled at her sarcasm, but you knew she meant it with no malice.

"That means more than you could know. Thank you, everyone."

"You know how Azriel is. He may draw back, but he is always there for the ones he loves and trust me when I say you're on the top of his list." Mor said. "I don't know how he'll react to the news,"

Your smile dropped a little. Thanks for the confidence boost, Mor.

"But I know that every relationship has its ups and downs. You've been there for him since the day you arrived, and he's been there for you, too. I can promise you that this experience will only help the two of you grow closer." Mor's words were sincere.

As the Inner Circle rallied around you, offering support, reassurance, and a safe space to share your fears and uncertainties, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you. Even Varian had bowed his head in respect. In that moment, you realized that you were not alone in your journey. With your loved ones by your side, you knew you had the strength and resilience to face whatever lay ahead. When the time came to reveal the news to Azriel, they would help you navigate the delicate path, giving you the support and courage, you needed.

And so, amidst the clinking of cutlery, the sound of Feyre's exasperated sigh as Cerridwen chased after Nyx (who'd run into the room looking for his mother), and the warm laughter that filled the House of Wind's dining room, you embraced the love and acceptance that you had received, finding solace in the knowledge that no matter the challenges you faced, you would never have to face them alone.

You tugged on the bond once again. Once. Twice.

And then you felt it. A pull from Azriel. Stronger than you'd felt in months.

***

"You guys really didn't have to plan all this," you smiled fondly at your friends, who insisted on throwing you a baby shower. Feyre later told you that she spent almost an hour explaining the mortal concept to Amren and Cassian, the latter thinking it was about hygiene. It had almost been 3 weeks since you told your friends at that fateful dinner, and they had embraced your news with love and kindness, just as Aiden, Feyre and Kai all insisted they would.

"Nonsense, y/n. You deserve the best baby bath achievable." Cassian beamed.

"Shower, Cassian." Feyre reminded him.

"I just showered," Cassian rolled his eyes. Nesta slapped his shoulder, and he quickly stopped his jokes when she gave him a kiss. You suppressed a snicker as you watched her. Cassian looked at her so lovingly, and Nesta, however annoyed she may be, always returned that look with equal fierceness.

You looked to your High Lord and Lady. Rhysand was sitting in a plush armchair, and Feyre was perched on his lap, his hand draped across her waist, fingers fiddling with a loose thread on her cream sweater. Nyx's addition to their family had only made them closer, and you could only pray that your little one could provide the same effect.

It was obvious to a total fool that Varian was irrevocably in love with Amren. His gaze was constantly on her, his eyes soft and longing, as if he knew something everyone else didn't. Amren rarely shared personal stories with the Inner Circle, but maybe she'd told the prince of Adriata something she hadn't yet shared with everyone else. You had a feeling Amren was going to find her eternal happiness with him. After all, he was here casually lounging with the Night Court's elite Inner Circle, wasn't he?

Then you looked to the pile of presents that your closest friends had prepared for you. The pink and blue streamers your friends had pinned around the room. Feyre said she was incorporating another tradition into this baby shower, something called a 'gender reveal', that she said was a celebration where loved ones of the mother gathered so she could make the gender of her child known. The room laughed as Rhys recited some adorable thing Nyx had done that morning, and for a second you were just lost in the haze. These wonderful people had chosen to spend time with you, and all vowed to support you.

The baby shower and gender reveal passed in a blur. It was just a mess of happy memories. You opened and accepted everyone's gifts (even the sharp "toy" Amren had gifted for "teething purposes". Perhaps Azriel would like that one.), and Nuala, Cerridwen and Elain had done an amazing job with the cake, which had either pink or blue frosting inside.

Since you wanted Aiden to keep the gender a secret, you had no idea what colour was in the cake either, and you were equal parts excited yet slightly nervous. If you thought hearing your baby's heartbeat made it real, celebrating this moment with your friends made it unreal. This was truly, really, definitely, happening.

You cut into the cake and it was...

"Pink!" you exclaimed. "Pink! She's a girl!"

Your friends whooped and cheered, Feyre rushed up to hug you, and Cassian immediately bobbed down to your stomach.

"A baby girl! Aw," he cooed. "Uncle Cass is going to spoil you!"

You laughed at Cassian, but he had lifted the mood tremendously. You couldn't believe it. You were having a girl, and you knew she would be perfect.

After the celebrations, Kai came and found you flipping through a photo album. It had detailed most of your and Azriel's relationship, and now there was a chapter all about your pregnancy.

"Thinking about him?" Malakai asked.

You smiled sadly, thinking about the huge milestone you had just celebrated without him. "I can't help it. I miss my mate." and sent another tug down the bond.

This time, it wasn't reciprocated. Something felt different, this time. You almost thought you heard a cry of pain.

***

“You know, maybe it would help to get out of here a little,” Cassian said one day at training. You were in the middle of sparring with him and Nesta, sweat dripping down your face, but you could tell they were going easy since the birth of your daughter only 5 weeks prior.

"Yeah, y/n,” Nesta smiled as she thrusted the dagger upward. "No harm in a holiday, you work so hard."

You stopped, mid-jab into where Cassian's shoulder would've been as you considered the idea. You hadn't left the Night Court for leisure in over three decades, and a small part of you did long to explore the other courts. Back when you and Az still talked of the future, the two of you had dreamed of holidaying in all the seven courts.

>>>>

"Do you ever think of the future?" you asked, playing with your mate's hair. Azriel paused his reading and thought.

He hummed softly, replying, "Of course, one with you."

You smiled, hands resuming their tousling of Azriel's hair, "I think one day I would like to travel. See all the places that the stories told me about when I was younger."

"That sounds perfect," Azriel replied, now fully sitting up and facing you. His book was discarded, and his hands were drifting up and down your arms. "I am content everywhere with you, but I hear the Winter and Summer courts are especially beautiful year-round."

You made a noise of happiness. "How much wine do you think we would need to buy Rhys for him to gift us one of his luxurious holiday homes in the Winter Court?"

Azriel's laugh ricocheted through the empty house, "My darling mate, I bet it's more wine than we can afford."

You laughed softly, "Well, I guess we better start saving. When I mend relations with Spring and Autumn, we must visit all the courts! Oh, just imagine it, Az."

Azriel's eyes softened. "Have I ever told you how much I admire you?"

You tilt your head, "You tell me every day, Az, but I think I admire you more." you said in a whisper, as if it were a secret, but how could it ever be, with a mate like Azriel?

Azriel smiled but shook his head. "Your job is amazing, y/n. Co-ordinating all these alliances, responding to our people's concerns and solving their problems. Velaris would really be nowhere without you."

You blush under Azriel's heated gaze, and say, "Well, someone's got to make the bribe money for Rhys' wine."

Azriel laughed deeply, the sound warming your soul. "Well, good thing I make up for my immense lack of income with other skills."

You watched the corner of Azriel's mouth curl up in a smirk. "Wouldn't you agree, my love? Or would you like a reminder?"

>>>>>>>>

When you named your daughter, you cried.

Cerise. Cerise Beatrice Singer.

Beatrice was your mother's name. A mortal name. She was half fae, as her mother was mortal. The courts gossiped for your entire childhood, from when you were six up until at least seventeen. They didn't even stop when she died. Seventeen was the year where you couldn't take it anymore. The year you finally left your 'family' and fled into the centre of Prythian. You travelled around from court to court for 2 years until one day, you arrived in the Night Court.

The people of your old village called her horrible names. They'd hiss at your mother as she walked across the street, throw all sorts of things at her. They were horrified that a mortal walked the streets of Prythian freely, no matter the fact she had never actually been in the Mortal Lands. No matter the fact she grew up the same as them. No matter the fact that she learnt the same faerie customs in the same faerie schools. No matter the fact that she grew up eating faerie food and wearing faerie-produced clothing.

No matter any of that.

Once, there was a rumour that you heard at school. People were saying your mother used witchcraft to lure herself a man "as great as that scum's father". You hid behind a wall, eavesdropping. The voices were muffled, the pitch all weird, but it was clear they were talking about you. Aiden was there with you. When he saw you were on the verge of tears, he told you to cover your ears and he hugged you tight. But even his hugs were never as tight as your mother's.

You are remembering thinking that you had never heard such foul language coming from 11-year-old children. You had dared a peek into the classroom, and when you saw the towering figures huddled, you realised. It was the teachers. The teachers using slurs and the teachers belittling the one woman who actually cared about you. About everything.

Decades from that day you thought of your past. You thought that, maybe it was true that once, your father had felt love for her. Beatrice bore him 4 children, after all. You knew your mother married him soon after meeting, and when she would brush your hair, back when you were young and the world was simple, she would tell you stories about how he courted her. Oh, how he courted her. Before the age of eight you used to wish for a love story like theirs. But as you grew up, it was plain to see that he felt nothing for her. In the end, one of your father's drunken rages had led to her death, and she died protecting you.

She cared for you when no one else did, in your family. Not your older siblings, and certainly not your father.

When you named your daughter, you cried.

Love and passion. That's what her name meant.

You were going to make sure love was all she felt from her family. Cerise was going to grow up with love. You loved her, your true family loved her, and Azriel would love her. You were sure.

Her raven hair was just like his, her eyes were like his too. Sometimes a piercing green, sometimes a calming brown. Beautiful, just like her father. She had your mouth though; Feyre had told you. When she smiled it was like the sun brightening the sky after a storm, and you had never seen anything better. She loved to laugh, her small eyes crinkling at the corners, her nose twitching. She was beautiful.

Cerise, she had wings. Small, baby Illyrian wings, but wings none the less. Wings like Azriel. Not wings like your father, but wings like Azriel. Majestic and powerful, with the ability to give what you had lacked; freedom.

>>>>>>>>

It had almost been 9 months since you told your friends at that fateful dinner, and they had spared no expense, treating you and Cerise like royalty.

Feyre could tell you were drained from your new motherly duties and said she would be happy to take care of your daughter for as long as you needed, but you had refused her offer.

"Oh no, Feyre, that's so kind," you smiled gratefully at your friend. "It's okay though, I will pick a place suitable for the both of us."

You had picked up Cerise from eager Auntie Mor's that morning and had decided. It was time for a holiday.

Feyre's eyes were scanning your face, waiting to pounce on any sign of hesitation. "Besides," you continued. "You have Nyx to think about!"

Upon hearing her son's name, Feyre beamed. "Yes! Oh y/n, I am so excited to have them grow up together." Her eyes softened. "It may seem hard now, but I know you'll be a great mother."

You reached for your friend and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you, Feyre. I learn from the best."

When you pulled back Feyre grasped your hands, grinning excitedly. "Now for the fun part. Let's pick a holiday destination; where are we sending you!"

Rhys walked in about an hour after you and Feyre decided to research to find Prythian's best Court for a vacation.

"How about the Day Court?" He suggested. "Helion loves you, and I'm sure both you and your daughter would enjoy the sunshine."

You looked at Feyre who was beaming.

"That sounds perfect."

That's how you ended up holding your daughter, watching as Helion - ever the show-off - had insisted you fly to the Day Court in his finest white carriage, led by the horses with manes of flame. When Rhys had heard about this plan, he just rolled his eyes, telling you that once, he had banned Helion from coming into the Night Court in that carriage, but Helion's loophole was to take you out of the Night Court in it.

"Go easy on the flying, okay? You have a post-partum mother and a baby on board," you said to Helion, only half-joking.

Helion raised one dark eyebrow at you in reply. "Of course. I promise you a mellow ride." He smiled and turned his attention back to his horses. A quick tug on the reigns from Helion, and the three of you were gone.

@ladyescapism ���💗

edit: I ONLY JUST REALISED I DONT USE READ MORE OMLLLL

edit 2: WEDDING VOWELS LMFAO

[fanhackers]

How To Be Gay, by David M. Halperin

While there are obvious fan studies classics, there are other books that don’t always fall into the “fan studies” canon that I have found incredibly useful for my own thinking.  I cited one of them, Carol Dyhouse’s  Heartthrobs: A History of Women and Desire (2017), a few posts ago; another is David Halperin’s How To Be Gay (2012)

How To Be Gay came out of a course Halperin taught at the University of Michigan, whose full title was “How to Be Gay: Male Homosexuality and Initiation.”  The initiation in question was not sexual, but cultural:  Halperin believes that there are not only gay texts, a gay canon of sorts, but also gay ways of reading that are taught and learned and that help constitute something we might call a gay subjectivity (that you don’t have to be gay actually to have):  e.g. Hollywood movies, opera, Broadway musicals, camp, diva worship, drag, muscle culture, style, fashion, interior design. Halperin asked both why this set of things–why musicals? why this diva or that–and what do they tell us about gay experience? Halperin was trying to trace “gay men’s characteristic relation to mainstream culture,” which often involves collaborative and camp appropriation: a queering.

I find this book very useful, both because fandom also has its own shared languages and rites of initiation (consider the idea of watching something with fannish goggles or slash goggles or a fanfic lens, as was recently discussed in a previous post; think about all the languages and tropes and artistic structures we all learn from each other) but also because Halperin talks about modes of identification that aren’t representational or based obviously in identity politics. So, for example, he says that the gay male students in his class were more likely to express themselves vis a vis a shared text like  The Golden Girls than vis a vis the traditions of what Halperin calls “good gay writing.” There is, Halperin argues, a queer pleasure in the Broadway musical that’s different than the pleasures of gay identity or even gay sex; similarly, queer female fans might find pleasures in identifying with, say, Sherlock, Crowley, or Blackbeard that are very different from the pleasures offered by a woman- or lesbian-centered text. 

Here’s an excerpt that gives a good sense of the book, I think: fans might identify with this or recognize it as descriptive of their own fannish feels.  (FWIW, the italics are all his!)

[H]omosexuality is not just a sexual orientation but a cultural orientation, a dedicated commitment to certain social or aesthetic values, an entire way of being.  That distinctively gay way of being, moreover, appears to be rooted in a particular queer way of feeling. And that queer way of feeling—that queer subjectivity—expresses itself through a peculiar, dissident way of relating to cultural objects (movies, songs, clothes, books, works of art) and cultural forms in general (art and architecture, opera and musical theater, pop and disco, style and fashion, emotion and language). As a cultural practice, male homosexuality involves a characteristic way of receiving, reinterpreting, and reusing mainstream culture, of decoding and recoding the heterosexual or heteronormative meanings already encoded in that culture, so that they come to function as vehicles of gay or queer meaning. It consists, as the critic John Clum says, in “a shared alternative reading of mainstream culture.” As a result, certain figures who are already prominent in the mass media become gay icons: they get taken up by gay men with a peculiar intensity that differs from their wider reception in the straight world. (That practice is so marked, and so widely acknowledged, that the National Portrait Gallery in London could organize an entire exhibition around the theme of Gay Icons in 2009.) And certain cultural forms, such as Broadway musicals or Hollywood melodramas, are similarly invested with a particular power and significance, attracting a disproportionate number of gay male fans. What this implies is that it is not enough for a man to be homosexual in order to be gay. Same-sex desire alone does not equal gayness. In order to be gay, a man has to learn to relate to the world around him in a distinctive way.  (p. 12 - 13)

–Francesca Coppa, Fanhackers volunteer

[snek-panini]

It's Friday the 13th! Here, have a book completely unrelated to that:

It looks fairly straightforward from here, but this is a bind of @dietraumerei's wonderful Good Omens series, The Sprawl of Life. It's a canon universe, pre-season-2 South Downs Cottage fic, and I typeset it when I did because I'd just watched season 2 and wanted the fluffiest, sweetest, most slice-of-life thing I could think of and this was it. Seriously, if you have been personally victimized by the season 2 finale this might be the antidote you're looking for. Though admittedly some of the lines do hit a lot more bittersweetly now than they did when I first read it in 2019.

More pics under the cut! This one's got an unusual format, go have a look!

It's a dos-a-dos! My first one! Before I started making books I'd never even heard of this format, but I've been wanting to try it ever since I found it. It's hard to find stories that suit the format, though--they've got to be within a certain word count, about the same length, and related to one another, and they have to be a pair, not a three or four part story. They look super complicated without (I've found, anyway) actually being that hard to make. If you want to impress a non-bookbinder make one of these to show them; all my family were fascinated by it.

For materials, the floral cover is scapbook paper from Joann's (the fancy stuff that's very flexible and feels handmade) and the spine is Allure book cloth from Hollander's in the wisteria color. It's a perfect match for the lavender in the paper. I've only previously used the Lineco/Books By Hand book cloth and gotten good results, but my experience with that brand in general was that it's a cheap, readily available base for starting out, but there are wider and better quality options out there once you get away from chain craft stores. Working with this cloth was proof of that. It's stiffer than the Lineco stuff, which made it a little harder to glue down but not enough to cause problems, and it took HTV better than any other surface I've used it on. Here, check out the spines:

Images of the spines. In case the photos are a little blurry, that's Demolishing Proofs We Never Believed In on the left and The World and its Beautiful Particle Logic on the right. The titles gave me some worries. I didn't want to obscure more of the florals by putting them on the front, but was worried they wouldn't fit on the spines since they're so long. I got them on, but it took a lot of careful measurements. Still, though, I couldn't be more pleased by them, and I barely had any of my usual trouble getting the HTV to stick.

Handmade end bands on both sides, in colors matched to the cover paper. I was a little worried about making my own for this project since the text blocks are only about 100 pages each. I was worried they'd be too short. But they're not, and I got a really nice front bead on them. I wanted to do three colors but that proved too challenging for my current skill level. Maybe next time. The second image is the endpaper. Specifically it's the back endpaper, so you can see how the second spine fits into the case. When you read a dos-a-dos, you read the first part, then flip it over like you're going to read the back blurb and there's the second part ready to go. I only explain this because, having never made one, I thought you flipped it over top-to-bottom until I did the case fitting for this one. The top-to-bottom one it called a tete-beche and I think does not have the shared cover board in the center; the pages are connected upside-down. (This is all from my limited research; pro bookbinders please correct me if I'm wrong.)

Couple of interior images. All the graphics came from rawpixel and they are the same in both halves. I kept the typeset really simple on this one, without any extra graphics. Partly that was to keep the page count down (images can take up extra space) and partly it's a reflection of the text. It's a happily ever after story, mostly. Their lives are so much easier here than in canon, and the focus is on communicating without barriers or frills and on building their relationship without other things getting in the way. So it's got a fancy title page, because it matches the cover, but the rest is straightforward with just some simple swirls around the chapter numbers.

I couldn't be more pleased with how this turned out. I was worried it would be very complicated since it's a new-to-me build, but I was exaggerating the difficulty and that made for an easy bind. I hope the author likes it too.

[aristoteliancomplacency]

Okay there are few things in terms of accuracy about the ancient world that fuck me off more than neglected Wikipedia stubs on obscure people written by users who don’t know what a citation is, but one of them is bullshit about Roman dodecahedrons. A fragment of another one was recently found in Belgium, which means we have to go through the whole ‘YouTube granny solved it lolol stupid academics’ meme shit.

I’m a classicist, but more importantly here, I’m a knitter. And this idea is just fucking stupid. And yes, I am quite happy to elaborate (if you’re prepared to just take my word for this, but still wanna feel good about academics getting shown up by people who are actually experts in their trade, scroll to the end bc there’s an actual one that I love that more people should know about).

So. First things first: this idea was not suggested by some YouTube granny. The first person I can find who posted a video about it was actually this guy, around 8 years ago. The video that lots of people share in relation to this stupid thing is only about two years old.

Next: knitters are a creative bunch. We can figure out how to knit with a lot of different things. Going around declaring things were for knitting just because they can be used for knitting is stupid. Things that could be used for knitting: chopsticks. Combs. Lollipop sticks. Forks.

Third: metal dodecahedrons with holes in them and big balls at each corner are not easy to make. No one is going out of their way to make these complex shapes just for fucking gloves.

Fourth: this shit predates any evidence we have of knitting by literally centuries. We figured out weaving and sewing way before this. Oh, hey. Guess what you can make a pair of gloves with??

Fifth: ‘oh but that guy figured out how they can make an entire glove in one go by using various holes!’ He sure did. Do you know what’s easier than what he’s doing? Sewing things together. (This is foreshadowing for the end)

Sixth: we also have icosahedrons and not all of them have holes. We’ve also found one in a grave among other grave goods. Weird thing to include among grave goods if it’s just a stupidly over complicated knitting tool.

Seventh: dodecahedrons come in different sizes. For this knitting theory to work it has to work for all sizes and it does not.

A demonstration: the height of the biggest dodecahedron we have is 11cm. That means the length of each side is 4.95 (the ratio of height to side length is 1:2.2). Here’s a smart guy explaining the maths. Here’s a calculator that’ll do it for you. (You want to use the Insphere radius to do the calculation and set it to 5.5 (half the diameter, which is the same as the height of the dodecahedron. Maths is cool).

Alternatively just eyeball this dodecahedron I made earlier:

Sides are roughly half the height, right?

SO. We need to knit with pegs that are 4.95cm apart. Now I only have a flat knitting loom, but it works for this demonstration. Irritatingly the pegs are in the wrong place to allow a distance of 4.95 between them, so it’s actually less than that (the centre of the peg should line up with that purple arrow):

So this is actually a cm smaller than the distance of the largest dodecahedrons.

Now, this is what it looks like when we knit with it:

You get a fabric roughly 7.5 cm wide. (Remember: it would be wider bc the pegs aren’t far enough apart) and pretty hole-y.

My thumb is the widest digit on my hands, so let’s measure it:

Just over 6cm circumference.

Here’s what happens when the fabric is wrapped around my thumb:

Huge gaps between the columns of stitches! (Which would be even bigger if the pegs were the right distance apart) And lemme just mention at this point, I am using something between super bulky and bulky weight yarn here. Use thinner yarn and you’re making dainty lace gloves that are useless at keeping you warm.

We can all agree that something this hole-y is not actually good at keeping your hands warm, right?

“But you could then wash it to felt and shrink it and that would get rid of the holes!”

Felting ain’t getting rid of holes that big. And also… just felt a big piece flat and then sew it together.

And don’t you think that if someone figured out they could make gloves with this technique they’d also figure out that they could use them to make hats and socks? No one is making a tool this difficult to make and complex to use just for a pair of gloves.

In conclusion: this is a fucking stupid theory and it needs to die dead and stay dead.

Now: on to the actual woman who you should know about: Janet Stephens. She’s a hairdresser, and/or a hairdresser archaeologist. Using her skill and knowledge as a hairdresser she attempts to recreate Roman hairstyles. There were some hairstyles that archaeologists/historians didn’t think possible. That they must have just been wigs. She called bullshit on that and set about making them. She realised that the problem was that translators had been translating a specific word to mean ‘hairpin’. It can also refer to a needle. As in needle and thread.

So she decided to experiment with what would happen if it meant needle and thread and what happened was she fucking nailed it. She nailed it because she is a hairdresser trying to understand what ancient hairdressers did. Because she had subject specific expertise. Because no academic had thought ‘hey maybe we should ask someone who actually knows what they’re doing with hair whether this is possible or not.’

[arlechinav-blog]

Krotala of the Cult of Artemis (Part I)

The wider cult of Artemis has and had a lot of dances. Probably more than any other cult I have been able to track, though the combined Mountain Mothers (Ida, Rhea, Kybele, et al) constitute a close second place on that. The above video here is my version of the Orphic Hymn to Artemis. It utilizes a musical structure that you can still find today in Southern Italy, known as a tammurriata rhythm. Tammurriata rhythms go with a dance by the same name that is played on wooden nacchere (aka castanets). These are a more modern tool variation on the ancient Hellenic krotala, which were a pair of wooden clackers held in the hands and used in dances relating to both the Cult of Artemis and the Cult of Dionysos. Depending on where you look in the Hellenic diaspora, the modern surviving tool of choice for this is either a set of wooden spoons or some form of castanet--pretty much always made of wood though sometimes large nut shells are also an option. I have added a video of the way the spoons should be played with this below. I went with wooden spoons because they tend to be a bit more accessible.

The song itself should be sung in the high voice, which resonates at the back of the throat. This is quite different from the open throated falsetto. It is a very specific folkloric way of singing, used commonly in pan Mediterranean styles of polyphonic chant. It doesn't matter where your natural range is, everyone is expected to be able to sing in both a high and low voice depending on the subject matter of the music. For Artemis, that is pretty much always going to be in the high voice. If you are not familiar with how this sounds, it can take some getting used to. I promise my vocalizations were intentional. lol Original Lyrics (with melodic breaks): Κλῦθί μευ, ὦ βασίλεια, / Διὸς πολυώνυμε κούρη, Τιτηνίς, βρομίη, μεγαλώ/νυμε, τοξότι, σεμνή, πασιφαής, δαιδοῦχε, / θεά / Δίκτυννα, λοχείη, ὠδίνων ἐπαρωγὲ, / καὶ ὠδίνων ἀμύητε· λυσίζωνε, φίλοιστρε, κυνη/γέτι, λυσιμέριμνε, εὔδρομος, ἰοχέαιρα, / φιλαγρότι, νυκτερόφοιτε, κλεισίη, εὐάντητε, / λυτηρίη, ἀρσενόμορφε, ὀρθίη, ὠκυλόχεια, / βροτῶν κουροτρόφε δαῖμον, ἀγροτέρη, χθονίη, / θηροκτόνος, ὀλβιόμοιρε· ἣ κατέχεις ὀρέων δρυμούς, / ἐλαφηβόλε, σεμνή, πότνια, παμβασίλεια, / καλὸν θάλος αἰὲν ἐοῦσα· δρυμονία, σκυλακῖτι, / Κυδωνιάς, αἰολόμορφε. ἐλθέ, θεὰ σώτειρα, / φίλη, μύστῃσιν ἅπασιν, εὐάντητος, ἄγουσα καλοὺς / καρποὺς ἀπὸ γαίης, εἰρήνην τ’ ἐρατὴν καλλι/πλόκαμόν θ’ ὑγίειαν· πέμποις δ’ εἰς ὀρέων κεφαλὰς / νούσους τε καὶ ἄλγη.

Now for a bit more about krotala!

These are all variations of ancient krotala, for those of you who are into woodworking and reconstruction.

I love this last sketch especially because that is definitely me on the right with the big stick, marking time on the ground while my dance students are trying to remember where feet go with this one. We do hand and foot things together with this one! Gotta work on that coordination.

Hand clackers are not all alike. The specific type of hand clacker used in each dance is linked directly to specific cults. The wooden variety are related to the Cults of Dionysos and Artemis. The above are all Artemesian images. I'll add some Dionysian images below so you can see the difference.

Context clues are everything, folks.

Fun Fact! The paired krotala dances of the ancient world were considered very sexy. This whole dance family was based on martial arts training, self-defence (trading and blocking blows, building confidence), and courtship. These things all went together. Young girls were trained to dance-fight from a young age and then this dance was used by those looking for a mate to have a socially acceptable mode of public courtship. So, somehow the idea of this dance came to be equated with young people out looking to get busy married. Once married, girls transitioned from the Cult of Artemis to the Cult of Dionysos and they took the dances that they had studied their entire lives up to that point right on over to this next phase of life.

To be continued...

[aspiring-holistic-otaku]

Season 3 Ramble#2 - “romance" lol ver.3

This month’s episode is all about romance, the third time around now and somehow I find myself with yet another tweak in format. Guess that just goes to show that love comes in many forms. In any case this month’s format isn’t that different from last time. I’ve still split my reads into 3 categories, the main difference is that the categories themselves have changed. Last time it was cute stuff, fucked up stuff and lewd stuff, this time I still have the cute category but I've switched out the other two based on this month’s reads, which I'll explain as we get to them.

So basically how this episode is gonna go is I'm gonna give my top reads this month in ascending order for each of those categories and then my top 1 reads before this month for the same.

Getting right into it the first category up is

Awww {basically v cute v innocent stuff}

#3) The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague (ongoing w 57 chapters, story & art by Miyuki Tonogaya)

This is an extremely simple but extremely cute story. The title pretty much summarizes it actually, the main character is the descendant of an ice demon, which is apparently not too strange in this world since he works a normal office job,,, and he has a crush on his cool, stoic, almost expressionless female colleague.

It's a pretty neat take on slow burns because one it's pointedly ice related, and secondly the ice guy’s emotions affect his environment, like if he gets too excited there'll be a blizzard or tiny snowmen will appear.. If you've ever had a crush on someone you know it's already hard enough to act natural or “be cool" so this guy has a pretty rough go of it.

The art is pretty nice but the characters, especially the wider cast leaves more than a bit to be desired. It actually almost kinda feels like the creator really just wanted to focus on the main two but the editor was like,, that's not how the real world works, especially not in an office... I do appreciate though that some of the wider cast includes different types of demons and it’s fun to see the different ways their emotions leak out, the different pairings, and so on.

As I said it’s an extremely simple story, almost feels like a 4 panel tbh, nothing I'd push too hard but it’s undeniably cute and makes for a super easy binge read or just something to pick up from time to time to escape the harshness of reality and indulge in the very cute but very absurd fantasy of a successful workplace romance… I think more than a few ppl have that one coworker you would if you could… but no… just no… leave it alone… leave it in fiction land my friend…

#2) Skip and Loafer (ongoing w 58 chapters, story & art by Misaki Takamatsu)

The story here follows our main heroine, a real go getter, who moved from the countryside to big city Tokyo for highschool, all so she could follow her dreams of being a politician and help out in rural areas around the country. Anyways she’s characterized as not being great at much else but studying, and in that spirit, gets lost on the way to her entrance ceremony. Here enters our main hero who’s also late but for the opposite reason, he’s super laid back, slept late and was considering just skipping but he felt sorry for this obviously lost but obviously trying girl so he decides to help her out and the story takes off from there.

Just wanna get out of the way that I love all the characters and their interactions with each other and especially within themselves. If anything, that's this manga’s strongest point. It makes the characters ooze real feelings that really feels in place for each where they are. Like not too dramatic where you wonder if they’re really highschool kids or even in school for that matter, and not too fantasy like where everything is perfect and it’s almost like characters are machines just filling a roll.

It kicks off pretty early on with engaging character interactions and the way they change and develop as the main cast gets to know each other is really endearing. I especially really really love the main heroine because she’s that innocent character type but it’s not done in that way that makes her this pure cinnamon roll that’s too good for this world, where nothing gets her down or she chooses peace and love every time. Her thing is that she’s basically socially inept and so she doesn’t really get when people are mean or even when they're being nice sometimes, but she’s all by herself in this new place so she’s trying and though she doesn’t always get it, it’s a real pleasure to see her grow.

It’s ongoing, only 58 chapters but there’s been a ton of realness and real growth in a bunch of ways for most of the cast packed in so far. Really can’t wait to see where it goes from here.

Anyways, cool art, great cast, love the interactions and would definitely highly recommend this one.

#1) Horimiya (complete w 152 chapters, story by HERO & art by Daisuke Hagiwara)

The story here is that the main hero/heroine pair each have a hidden side to them that nobody else knows. At school, the heroine is always super put together but when she’s at home she’s too busy taking care of her little brother for all that and takes on a more homely caretaker persona (the art is shoujo leaning so she and most of the main cast pretty much always looks pretty). But anyways, at school, the hero is seen as a gloomy glasses wearing loner but when he leaves school he looks like he came out of a rock magazine. Tattoos and piercings everywhere. Anyways, this and that happens, the convenient plot is convenient and they end up becoming friends who hold each other’s secrets.

As much as the story kinda feels like shoujo perfect world fantasy stuff, and as much as it came out as top 1 largely because it’s complete, I think a small part of it might have been that a tiny part of me still wants to believe in, and might even still want that kind of “perfect” love. From the innocent buildup to the accumulation of every day special normals and beyond… but in any case, I did honestly like the theme of more and more of your true self coming to the surface and being able to show that true self to someone.

Overall, besides the main pairing, the cast was kinda weak, not bad, just pretty one dimensional But that one dimension was very cute and fluffy and this being a romance manga, it worked. What I will say though is that it took a while for the wider cast to come into play and even more for them to make me care, like not until late 50s heading into 70s did i care about anyone but the main pairing. Meanwhile skip and loafer only has about 50 chapters total and I was fully invested in the entire cast well before then.

But as I said, when the full horimiya cast rolls in it’s all very cute and I liked that they even made the platonic same sex relations pretty cute like yh guys just having fun and it’s not weirdly pervy in any direction, just another form of love yk.. v cool… Again it did have me yearning a bit like wow imagine having a life with both platonic AND romantic relationships being healthy and fulfilling.

Anywho,, pretty neat art, the story kinda just goes on ig but having in mind that it was a romance and it goes on in an increasingly cute way and all, i’d recommend it.

hm:

Even the Introverted Gals Wanna Get Out There! - pretty funny, maybe more funny than cute, also it’s girl on girl, think dead dead demon’s destruction but the main heroines actually get to live life and breath air, literally just vibing out in the club room after school (ongoing w about 6 chaps)

Train Man - Net Development, the Love Story of a Local Train: based on a true story apparently, basically a dude saves some people on a train and becomes friends with one of them and stuff take off from there (complete w 27 chapters)

ftr everything in the main list has an anime but i can’t speak on their status or quality

also ftr I'd definitely rate skip and loafer higher than horimiya overall but because this is the cuteness category, + horimiya is a complete story which I tend to favour for higher places in lists and stuff

next category up is

Dense & Denser

{this is basically when one or more of the characters are just oblivious to any love flags thrown their way}

#2) How to Raise a Boring Girlfriend (complete w 42 chapters, story & art by Takeshi Moriki, original LN story by Fumiaki Maruto)

Had never heard of this one before but the title pulled me in like how and why would one raise a boring girlfriend anyways?

The story here is that on the way to school the mc has an encounter with a mystery girl and it’s love at first sight, even though he didn’t see her face…. The mc is an anime/manga otaku much like myself, and this encounter inspires him to make a dating sim game, but after he happens to actually meet the mystery girl face to face, he finds that she’s actually kind of plain,, albeit in a cute sort of way. In any case the feeling of their first mystery meeting lives on so he pushes through with his idea, intending to transform this girl into his ideal heroine. The main story, relations and problems arise around him trying to get the dev team together for this game, and of course this being romance they’re all girls.

It’s all very funny in a very meta way, with commentary on anime/manga culture in most chapters, and the so called main heroine, being outside that culture, usually playing a very good straight man. It’s also meta in how the mc goes about getting his dev team together, as i said they’re all girls so it’s almost like his life becomes a dating sim in trying to woo them into his harem… i mean game dev team…

In any case I’m not even actually sure the mc really counts as romantically dense or if he was just so committed to the bit of being a single weeb undeserving of love that he just pretended not to notice all the pretty loud romantic undertones,,, but maybe that's a type of density in itself… a younger me can def relate… being committed to the bit is a lifestyle… bed is bae… anyways it’s kind of ecchi but still surprisingly good in both the romance and meta aspects. Pretty good art, they made a decision to keep the cast compact and it worked out very nicely. It wraps up in just under 50 chapters but I will say each chapter is pretty dense and can be a bit word heavy. Would recommend.

#1) Monthly Girls’ Nozaki (ongoing w 148 chapters, story & art by Izumi Tsubaki)

This story follows our main heroine as she tries to get the attention of her crush, who is our mc. In approaching him she finds out he’s actually her favourite romance manga creator and through this and that ends up working on it with him as an assistant to try and get closer to him.

Right off the bat I think everyone in this cast is pretty dense but man is the main hero just the most dense mf in the universe. I feel sorry for the main heroine cause she knows but she’s just so down bad for him she kinda becomes dense to how down bad she is. In any case every chapter takes the form of a series of connected 4 panel stories and it’s pretty funny throughout.

The wider cast is pretty neat, nothing too crazy but as i said they’re all pretty dense in their own weird ways so the interactions are usually funny. The art is solid, cast is okay, pretty funny, would recommend for sure.

ftr both have an anime not sure of status or quality

and again ftr i’d rank boring girlfriend over monthly girls’ in general, especially as it’s complete it’s just that this is the dense & denser category and monthly girls’ nozaki is definitely dense central, like black hole event horizon density my friends…

and the last category

That’s Rough Buddy

{a direct reference to avatar when sokka told prince zuko his girlfriend turned into the moon and his response was “that’s rough buddy”, this category is different from the that’s fucked up category I used in very.2 in that these focus more on emotional turmoil and have no physical violence and so on}

#3) Kowloon Generic Romance (ongoing w 61 chapters, story & art by Jun Mayuzuki)

This is kind of eh tbh, cool art, and it’s kind of a mystery as to what’s goin on, so much so that I don’t think I can describe it without spoiling so i’ll lean on the anilist/yen press summary a bit here which is as follows:

“Welcome to Kowloon Walled City: a dystopian townscape where the people are brimming with nostalgia, and where the past, present, and future converge. Amid the hidden emotions and extraordinary daily lives of the men and women working in its confines, a tale of romance begins to unfold for real estate agent Reiko Kujirai—one that feels as familiar as Kowloon itself…”

I doubt that told you anything but I hope it sparks some intrigue, I will say it has a good number of dope one liners, and if i’m being honest the main characters smoke a lot which is an aesthetic I love for some reason so sue me…

Not much else to say tbh, nice art as I said, it’s pretty cool, okay cast, the story is pulling a bit but the bait isn’t that strong, though the aesthetics of it all has definitely caught my eye so I will be keeping up with it after this month… i wouldn’t push it as a recommendation that hard but there’s only 61 chapters rn so no real loss if you do decide to check it out

#2) How Do We Relationship? (ongoing w 115 chapters, story & art by tamifull)

The story here is that the main heroines are gay and in reality no matter how much the media and conservatives want ppl to believe that homosexuality and homosexuals are accepted and normalized in society, in fact that anything but being heterosexual and cisgender passing is accepted & normalized, that’s simply not the case in real life. I live in jamaica and man, not that I really care, but I could get shunned just for reading stuff with gays in it… In any case that’s the sort of reality the main heroines live in which was cool for its realness as they were/are hiding the fact that they're gay, but in any case plot plot plot they end up going out….

This is the “that’s rough buddy” category so I think it’s okay to spoil that it doesn’t go smoothly though I won’t go into further detail. I will mention a really cool thing the author said in an afterword where they say that a lot of romance stories tend to build towards and end at the start of the main characters getting into a relationship, but life isn’t like that. There’s life after that and that’s sort of what they wanted to illustrate. The life after a relationship…. Sounds like a spoiler but remember there’s more than just our heroines in the story. there’s a whole wider cast and they’re all pretty great. each having their own relationship troubles or lack thereof, ideas and philosophies on love and etc.

Pretty solid art, in fact it really reminds me of yokohama shopping log, so much so that i’m convinced it’s a fanfiction created just to make the characters from that series actually full on gay. Pretty solid cast, a story that gets more and more engaging as it goes on though it’s pretty solid from the start. would definitely highly recommend though it can be a bit tumultuous like damn you guys just never gonna be stable huh??

#1) Chobits (complete w 88 chapters, story & art by CLAMP an all woman manga group formed in the mid 1980s made of Nanase Ohkawa, Mokona, Tsubaki Nekoi and Satsuki lgarashi)

I’d always seen this around and always as the profile picture for some more than suspicious internet accounts… the vibe it gave off in my periphery view was just horrendous tbh but i took the dive and it was worth it, obviously, coming in at #1.

The story here is that in the future, the world is inhabited by humans who live alongside their extremely powerful computers called persocoms, that are shaped to look and act almost human. numerous stories have taken this angle so I think you can imagine the effects that would have on society, but in any case the story follows our mc who recently moved from the countryside to the city and ends up finding one in the trash that he takes in and starts to take care of. The thing is their memory is corrupted so he has to teach them everything, but soon enough the mystery of the discarded persocom comes to light and their abilities could change the world.

All that pompous stuff aside the theme of discerning the shape of love and who deserves it was pretty cool, the mc was bleh and so was most of the cast but the last few chapters and the questions they posed were enough, especially the origin story of the persocom like damn… that’s rough as fuck buddy,, def kinda weird but my condolences all the same…. Art was okay… and yh i’d recommend it..

hm:

Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai

Top Combo

Video Girl Ai (complete w 131 chapters, story & art by Masakazu Katsura)

This was probably my fav read this month, somewhere between this, boring girlfriend and skip & loafer but this definitely has the best combinations of the different categories I was working with this month.

Again this is something I'd seen floating around for the longest and associated with more than sus accounts but it was pretty good.

The lazy story is that the mc is a lame with no game and his crush ends up confessing to his best friend in front of him. obviously distraught he ends up renting what he thinks is a porn tape.. which I guess it technically is but it's supernatural in that the girl comes out of the TV and tries to mend the viewers’ heart.

Things get super complicated and it turns into the weirdest love polygon I've ever seen, lots of back and forth and dilly dallying but I enjoyed it. The art was great, had a great classic feel, there's more than a bit of ecchi but it's not entirely distasteful or weirdly out of context, the characters and their interactions were a bit exasperating with the back and forth, loves me loves me not stuff but that had its own entertainment value, and in any case I'd recommend it

now moving onto stuff from before this month, which I won't get into details for as I've spoken on them in previous versions which I'm encouraging you to go listen to or read the transcripts for,,

Oldies

Awww

Our Precious Conversations (top 1 oldie ver.1)

Dense & Denser

That's Rough Buddy

Hi Score Girl (top 1 ver. 2)

Boy's Abyss (top2 wtf ver. 1)

That's it for this part, got a little off cuff rambling in the rest of the ramble of you wanna listen in, thanks for checking this out as usual, hope you can find something here or elsewhere that you'll love and I hope you have a good one until next time 🍻

[factorialsotherfandoms]

@cubitodragon

Yaaaaaaas AU babbling, I hope you’re ready for round two of questions this morning :D 1) Are the Eggs recovered from the Federation in this AU, or is their recovery due to intercepting Fed scouting reports or the like? 2) how relevant are the aliens here to the Feds? Or are they everyone’s problem? 3) what are some fun and plot irrelevant but character/world building related facts for your AU? 4) which character(s) have you found fit the setting well unexpectedly vs who gave more trouble?

Hello again! I am absolutely ready though also having breakfast lol

*wriggles hand* the /first/ group of eggs are discovered by accident on a different mission. The team of six (Philza, Jaiden, Roier, Missa, Cellbit, and Etoiles) are actually on an assassination run of all things. I say assassination run. That makes it sound sneaky, not they kicked in through the front door, systematically murdered the entire security team, hacked a teleport pad to the target's respawn chamber, and then repeatidly murdered them while also taking chips out of the respawn device until it finally broke, allowing them to perma-kill their enemy. It being Chayanne and Bobby they've actually already broken themselves out, and despite being yk physically about 10 and literally only a few months old the two very much try to help fight, making things worse. The adoptions are basically on sight - Roier and Missa give their respective children knives, while Jaiden and Philza are immediately fussing. Etoiles and Cellbit do /not/ get it until Pomme and Richarlyson show up and are like 'oh I would die for them now'. The eggs are not able to communicate telepathically, but have a level of awareness of each other on a psychic level. Because of this the characters are aware there are more kids in need of rescue, and keep their eyes out. While some of the eggs have a stronger connection to each other than the rest, Dapper has the easiest time messing with it, so once they find him finding the rest becomes a lot easier. It wouldn't have worked for Trump/A1, however. For... Plot reasons. And whomever ends up in Tilin's place, whether it is Tilin or the memories egg, gets a very shaky time. If I'd done more of that sort of mission Tallulah would have had the same sort of problem, but I didn't, so she gets a reprieve. JuannaFlippa frequently breaks out to get herself food. Tallulah however is trying to be a good girl and well we see how well that goes...

Right okay! So in XCOM there's a sub-faction of aliens known as ADVENT. ADVENT are responsible for all human-facing alien interactions post-invasion, from political spokesmen to policing to healthcare workers. The last of these tend to be actual (if brain chipped) humans, while the others... They tell people they're human, at least. I am a strong believe in the QSMP of the Federation just being a branch of a much wider probably multi-island organisation. Ergo, the Federation are just a group under the aliens, ones where the aliens in their number are mostly humanoid and the rest of their staff are human. Workers like Fred and Walter Bob are non-human Federation workers, people like Aypierre and Jaiden are (ex) Federation workers. People like Baghera... Well... Baghera's a very fun case and I am sat here giggling with cruel intent just thinking about it. Needless to say that while the Federation has only legally existed since the invasion, its been on earth just by another name and much more secretly for much, much longer...

Oh man fun but not plot relevant... Hm... Half the crew are convinced Quackity and ElQuackity are the same person, just Quackity gets real bitchy when its nighttime. They're not. They're twins that co-run the on-ship bar, but because they're also the only bartenders and its a 24/7 establishment... ElQuackity isn't exactly like... /good/ or /above board/ here, but there's only so much damage he can do with serving alcohol so they kinda just let him hang out. Fred claims to have defected years ago. He actually only defected a few months ago because he saw a cute boy and didn't understand what it meant so followed him home. Everyone knows, nobody actually calls him out on this. Tubbo is not allowed to go out on missions, but he does control the semi-automated airship defences and I mean it isn't /really/ a plot important to say he absolutely gets to use them at one point. After the invasion, the aliens tried to break up the Brazilians by leaving all the ones they captured in different bits of the Americas. This obviously failed. So when they get their hands on another, they dump him in Australia. This still doesn't work and okay maybe its a bit plot relevant, but I've already written a bit about while Mike was missing and the fact he ended up in Australia so like... Please, please imagine how funny it is that the aliens keep capturing Brazilians and trying to split them up but no matter how far apart they put them /somehow/ they always find each other again. And, yes, they're specifically after the Brazilians, as those 5/6 are kinda the ringleaders of the whole shebang. Whenever they need to do a public announcement, the aliens wheel Cucurucho out. He's a whole lot less charasmatic than XCOM2's speaker, but a whole lot cuter. Contrary to popular belief no Bagi has not has a girlfriend before. Or a boyfriend for that matter. Or any other flavour of partner. Neither has Cellbit. Roier, however, has absolutely fucked an alien for information before. There have been at least three separate incidents of sex in the autopsy lab and, to everyone's surprise, none of them involved Slimescicle (he's a bit scared of tbh) (it's more private than anywhere else with anything that looks like a bed) Felps would like to claim he has had the best time out of all of the Brazilians. The worst thing is this is actually true. Cellbit's psychic abilities are not as self taught as he'd like you to believe, but anyone who can contradict him is long dead so it doesn't really matter. Given the limited resources a number of people had to get okay with communal living and touchy-feely things very quickly. This went better for some than others.

Okay kinda referenced her above, but while she's one of my later recruited units and came underlevelled and in a class I'm not as fond of so doesn't get much screentime (au is a type up of a playthrough, else she'd have got a lot more and Missa would have been demoted to house husband once Chayanne showed up ^^;), but Baghera. Oh, Baghera, she goes so neatly into all of this, poor girl. Aypierre was another unexpectedly nice surprise on how neatly he fits in, given the whole current lore with him and stuff. UNfortunately I have no clue how to write him and along with Tubbo and Forever, another pair that give me trouble, is writing half of the plot relevant documents as the fucking head of research *facepalm*. For unexpectedly hard... Wilbur Fucking Soot. You would think that with a near future style setting 'touring musician' would be easy but oh my fucking god he's a pain in the ass to work into this. Especially as I really love the idea of the Federation owning his record label. If it wasn't for Tallulah I'd have thrown him out the damn window already. A good number of them I haven't fully hammered out, but frankly literal demons are easier to work in than touring musicians, so I don't think it'll be so bad.

[cosmikazie]

God if ucking love rain world too. I just dont really know how to get "into" the community without building up a following through art (im not good at it) or something else, yknow?

yeah, i know what you mean. i can somewhat relate to this problem myself, ever since i was in my first… i guess community would be a good word for it in this sense… but ever since i was in my first community, i have always wanted to contribute to the community and media at hand. it happened with deltarune, it REALLY happened with undertale (every time i get a comment on that one video i nearly shit myself) and now it’s happening again with rain world. if im being real, i may not be the best person to ask about it, since i basically grew in popularity across the internet overall by dumb luck.

but regardless, ill put in my two cents anyways: just keep at it, whatever you’re doing. even if you think youre bad at it, keep going. even if you think you’re not gonna add any more worth to the wider community by making your impact, do it anyways. you’ll thank yourself later on.

you see this? this was my first piece of digital art EVER. of course, looking back at this piece of art from late 2018, i think this art piece sucks ten ounces of cottage cheese and italian driftwood. and im assuming thats the feeling you’re going through right now.

but here’s the thing: i kept at it. i kept trying and trying more and more until i eventually made this like three days later

still not great. but i didnt improve overnight. like i said earlier, you gotta keep at the stuff you love regardless of how you feel about it skill-wise. you’re gonna be thanking yourself later on for nourishing that branch on the tree.

and trust me, keeping at it is worth it. these two images aren’t insignificant, i repeat them every year or two since these first two. my latest one was this one:

the point im trying to make with all this stuff in the end i guess is just that even if you dont feel fantastic about what you make, you should still keep trying. youre not gonna improve overnight, but if you set yourself a goal to get a little bit more detailed, or a little bit more elaborate with what you make each time you make something, your improvement will be noticeable. and dont just do it for any random community out there! do it for YOU!!!! if you have problems with working for yourself as much as you work for others, imagine taking an order from yourself that says do whatever you want! because you can!!!

TL;DR: dont do what you do for just anyone, do it for you. and keep doing it, no matter how little you think of it. you will thank yourself.

and hey. if all else fails you can always be like gront5172, the justin y. of rain world youtube. im sure theyre very happy i mentioned them here tbh

[oflights]

five ways drarry eschew the wizarding world for the mundane muggle versions/experiences instead?

hi!! hmmm this is a good one because i don't think i've really thought much about this before? i tend to go hard on all magic in my fics and get creative that way. and i think find a new place to be from is a good representation of how i think they both feel about life in the muggle world and how they make it work, so coming from this angle will be a bit stream of consciousness!!

i've mentioned this before but i think harry likes to drive. having a car still feels like a life a goal for him, a symbol of adulthood. draco does not share this at all and hates the car until (out of fear and curiosity he won't admit to, he's not arthur weasley!!!) he dives deep into a research hole and winds up taking harry's car completely apart and putting it back together and becoming something of a gearhead. for science.

draco winds up being the one to fix harry's car if something goes wrong; harry barely knows how to change the oil. he blithely ignores the check engine light (it feels like his entire life has had a check engine light lit up about it) until draco sees it and screeches and checks the engine himself.

draco's big muggle thing is like, snacks. he's inherently mistrustful of modern tech (and writing he and harry sort of catching up on that together in the fic i linked was so fun) but he's curious and has a sweet tooth and the muggle world provides variety, so he's all about that.

oh, and coffee. draco has always thought he hated coffee and basic espresso drinks (too bitter) but catches on very quickly to all flavors and methods muggles employ to make it not taste like coffee. he loves a frap. harry feels the same way but doesn't get the exact same "this is new and exciting!!" joy in it that draco retains.

as in pepper spray fic, harry finds it easier to go out and be social in the muggle world, including hookups/dating. in the magical world he gets by on his network of friends to weed out potter-obsessed nutters but those relationships still tend to buckle under the weight of "this is harry potter" and all that entails. there's something freeing about the anonymity of the muggle world. draco can't relate as much, and can more easily rely on his social group to navigate dating, but i think the vastness of the muggle world entices him too. i picture him as living this very insular, protected and exclusive life with the exact same people from birth and getting to open that up and meet all kinds of new people is both scary and exhilarating to him. better still if his world opens up to be so big and he still finds love with harry, in a world so much wider than the magical one. choosing each other among so many fish in the sea is wonderful.

[duchessofostergotlands]

no need to answer but I totally agree with your analysis of the guardian thing. They were praising themselves for info that even the tabloids have reported on, I found it so weird because usually the guardian has detailed information. Also the history element of it they had an historian ‘uncovering’ and ‘revealing’ documents when as far as I can tell this info has been known for at least 25 years if not earlier. It felt very I just learnt about this for the first time so nobody must know about any of this either.

I'm going to post this because I have more things to say lol. But yes you are right, it's not particularly good journalism and I have noticed a general decline in the last few years - lots of uncharacteristic political stances, a really heavy focus on US specific issues, lots of puff pieces and tabloid fodder, especially around royals. I went off them in 2020 for separate reasons - nothing royal related, more personal - but they've been slipping generally.

Anyway, I think the issue of the Duchy of Cornwall/Lancaster is also more complex than they're making out. I agree that they should probably be public assets and in an ideal world they would be. And I do think that it's a significant amount of money they get each year and given their housing is free, their travel to their houses and to work is taxpayer funded, a lot of their staff are paid for by taxpayers, they don't have a lot of expenditure. But the reason there is a private, consistent source of income for the monarch and the heir is because they cannot have private jobs in the same way their peers can. They can work for the military or a charity but that's not going to give them much. William couldn't become an investment banker like his Eton chums. And as we've seen time and time again from royals, from Fergie and Sophie to Martha-Louise, if a royal has no reliable source of income then there is a very high risk of them using their profile, their connections, and their reputation for much more nefarious purposes. And even if it's not as dramatic as trying to sell access to important people or accepting money from a convicted sex offender to pay off your debt, it can still just be embarrassing like writing erotica! The Duchies are used to provide income to the heir and the monarch, but also enough to fund all the other working royals who can't have normal jobs, and of course the limbo people like Andrew. In an ideal world they wouldn't have those funds - I agree with that - but those funds are to guard against wider corruption, ultimately. If they don't have those funds and William wants to go on holiday, he's going to make the money elsewhere. And we can't really stop him because that’s how you end up in the Japanese situation where the royals allegedly can’t even have their own phones in their house! I'd rather they have a consistent, reliable, audited source of income than have to make their own income in an inconsistent, unreliable, and poorly monitored way.

So sure, it’s a lot of money and there are much better uses for it. And maybe there’s a way to amend the amount, I don’t know. But if we’re going to have a monarchy I think it’s a necessary evil so I would again just say that they should be focusing on the root issue - do we want a monarchy? Is it good for democracy? - which to be fair they have always done well, they have found a lot of the corruption issues we know about.