#Tine;; Mirror image.

[theredofoctober]

MANNA PART 6

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham fic, sort of DD/LG dynamic

TW: eating disorders, noncon, abusive relationship

She/her pronouns for reader

NOTE: this chapter occurs chronologically pre-leg, within the first month or so of your captivity. I'm writing Manna out of order; when I upload to ao3 I'll put everything in the right place

---

You pass an evening with Hannibal like so many others, yet unlike for the state induced in you through his studious medicinal enterprise.

You are accustomed to the concoction of drugs that regresses you to a needy youth, the sleepers, the stimulants, the tea that lowers you from the electric heights of your righteous hysteria. Yet whatever element comprises the pill flushed down by water from a gently tipped glass elevates you to orbit a heaven above yourself, so removed from your imprisonment that you observe with an objective eye.

Dr Lecter has bestowed upon you the rare trust that you may eat without assistance, and you have done so, temporarily rescinding your disordered agitation to the mycelium half-dream.

Thus elevated, you watch yourself drape the tines of your fork back and forth across your half-eaten plate, enthralled by patterns on the porcelain that are not there.

Your eyes drift repeatedly to a painting on Hannibal’s wall, mounted coyly for any dinner guest to comment on. Naturally, have seen the piece many times before, in turns startled and disturbed by its subject. Now, however, you find yourself dully intrigued, an attention that does not go unnoticed by Dr Lecter.

“What is it, little one?” he asks, intently, laying down his cutlery on either side of his plate with a quiet clink. “Do you have an interest in art?”

“I don’t know,” you say, confused by the question. “It’s just this picture. Isn’t it... rude?”

Hannibal smirks, eyeing the image with fond appreciation. Its focus is a supine young woman, draped, half-naked, on a rumbled bed, towards which a curious swan approaches with curved neck bowed.

Likely it is the original painting, procured at auction, its price unimaginable; all things in this house are ripe with expense, even you, its demanding charge.

“Artistic nudity is only considered rude by children,” says Hannibal, blithely, “or else by shallow and ignorant adults. Does the depiction of genitalia offend you, my darling?”

You gaze up at the cowrie of a cunt under its shadow cap of hair, pinkly presented on spread silk, and think how often your own has been arranged likewise for Will or Hannibal to admire.

“Why is it in this room, specifically?” you ask; you struggle with the syllables of the word, spit at the sibilants in a manner unbecoming for so distinguished an event. “Doesn’t it put people off their food?”

“I find it makes for an amusing conversation piece,” says Hannibal, pouring himself another generous glass of wine.

You attempt to grimace, none of your muscles quite taking to the motion.

“I don’t think it’s funny at all. Just creepy. Sad.”

“Are familiar with the story of Leda and the Swan?” asks Hannibal, with interest. “Zeus, a virile and insatiable God, looked upon the queen of Sparta and desired her. So, in order to seduce her, he transformed himself into a swan so that she would be fooled by his beauty and appearance of vulnerability to take him to her bed.”

“He tricked her,” you say, quietly. “He didn’t seduce her, at all.”

Dr Lecter’s face scarcely moves, but there is something of laughter in the lines of his strange beauty.

“So it is the deception that unnerves you,” he says. “The pretence that he was an innocent creature rather than the all-powerful and lustful deity he truly was.”

You nod, not wanting to admit that you see your own face mirrored in the brushstrokes of the Grecian queen.

Prophet-like, Hannibal interprets the motion with flawless vision.

“You empathise with Leda. Recognise the parallels between her story and your own.”

“Is that why you put it there?” you retort, emboldened by the miles between you and the girl slumped in the dining chair. “Because you think you’re the swan?”

“The bird is a shield for the truth, remember,” says Hannibal. “So what would the swan be, in me?”

Dropping the fork with a discordant clatter, you consider.

“The polite, handsome doctor,” you say, at last. “You fool everyone; Jack, Alana Bloom. My parents. They would never have left me here if they knew what you really were.”

Hannibal tilts his head at a slight angle, as though by doing so he might uncover some mystery in your face.

“And what am I, little one?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “There are a lot of things you’re hiding from me. How can I know what you really are?”

“Tell me your perceptions, then. There is no need to spare my feelings; after all, you so rarely do.”

Amidst your mushroom-made divinity, you are fearless in your answer.

“You’re a bad person. You’ve done things that would get you into a lot of trouble. Hurt people. Not just me. And you don’t feel bad about it. You think that everything you do is right, somehow. Like you should be allowed to do it. Like you’re a god.”

Hannibal absorbs this with a silence that seems sated, or almost so.

“And what about Will?” he prompts. “Is he, too, a starving monster under the guise of a tender animal?”

“No,” you say, with less certainty. “He’s... sick. You're using him, making him think that this is what he wants.”

Hannibal laughs over the rim of his wine glass.

“That is where you’re wrong, little one. The Will you think you see is only one wing of the swan. Soon, you will see beyond that fragile veil, and feel the mythic need of all immortals to plunder from the weak, merely for the pleasure of knowing that they can.”

A sudden sadness tugs you back to earth like a choke chain, a lump in your throat.

“So you don’t want to help me, after all,” you mumble. “It was all a lie.”

Taking your hand across the table, Hannibal presses a thumb to the pulse at your wrist, a soothing gesture.

“Not at all,” he says, firmly. “To recover from your illness you must be made to relinquish control in its most basic forms. The instances I return it to you are experiments in progress. Remember that Leda did not die after Zeus bedded her: she became a mother. In you, I seek another outcome. More than one, in fact.”

You gaze at him with disbelieving eyes, rejecting the hope he grooms in you.

“What other outcome are you looking for, Dr Lecter?”

Hannibal kisses your knuckles and places the fork back into your hand.

“Nothing you need to think about at the moment,” he says. “Now, finish what’s on your plate. It’s growing cold.”

[aeori-o]

Happy New Year! 3/3 (Tumblr Why)

Well it's a 3 parter, rip.

Part 1 || Part 2

Continuing with the biggest of my hobbies that really needs a billion photos to do it justice...

Will I wrap a car a year going forward? Probably not. But I did wrap my sister’s car. Despite this starting as a “we’ll just do something cool on the side!” this turned into wrapping literally the entire vehicle except for a little bit on the front bumper and where the faded red (it looks pinkish) paint is showing on the second photo toward the back of the car (the black wing tips are sitting on it). My sister and I are opposites when it comes to aesthetics. She’s always been comfortable standing out and being different, I’ve always wanted to fade into surrounding environment. Do Not Perceive Me. But because she’s like that she was down for me to just do whatever to her car, so I did. I’m super happy with the result!

When we started talking about it we were originally just going to do three colours along the side kind of ‘swooping’ into each other. Then when I was laying in bed I had the idea to make the ‘swoops’ into wings. I’m perpetually afraid that any thought I have as I’m falling asleep will vanish into the void so I found some crayons in my room (they were from a restaurant where you can draw on the tabletop) and a postcard and made the silliest little drawing so I wouldn’t forget. Three sets of wings reminded me of the “biblically accurate” meme and seraphim so I then decided I was going to rename her car Seraph and deem it a biblically accurate car.

It took longer than it should have. Her car is a year younger than mine but has rusted a lot more than mine has. The handles couldn’t be removed because the bolts inside the door had seized (thankfully the side mirrors didn’t have the same problem—though we did lose a nut down the inside of one of the doors and it took us hours to get it out) thankfully her handles were much easier to wrap than mine. And because I was making a design out of the vinyl instead of just making it all one colour that meant I had to take time to design it and make the pattern.

Plus I had to work around her schedule. Her car is not mine so I had to figure out when she could stop by or when I could come hijack her car. Then things kept breaking. At one point her hatch latch was just not functioning correctly, so I ordered a handle and we fixed it (which was also so much harder than it needed to be because of course more nuts were seized, we were out there with a rust-loosening compound and a hammer and a tine trying to convince this thing to let go—and it eventually did! But holy was it a nightmare.) And then there was the overall problem of rust on the car that I ground off as much of as I could so it wouldn’t bubble up under the wrap and make it look bad. And then of course a part needed to turn the car on broke and was backordered so the car sat, half wrapped, in the dealership parking lot for a month. And after sitting in the dealership parking lot for a month the alternator broke but the dealership thought it was the battery and replaced that, and when the alternator was still broken after replacing the battery we brought it to my mechanic who replaced the alternator for a third of the price the dealership wanted to.

I didn’t get a proper complimentary shot of the back to overlay properly (in my second photo the hatch is propped open a little so I can’t get it to line up with the “before” image but I think the colour difference on the red and the lack of scuffing on the bumper speaks pretty loudly even if it’s not perfectly lined up).

So despite starting this process in April we weren’t done until September. I think the actual wrapping part of the process overall went faster but it took a lot longer because this car threw new challenges at me that mine didn’t. I could definitely feel that I was a lot more familiar with how the vinyl works now, though. Thinking back to the first part of my car I did, the hood, it’s wild how far I’ve come. Practice does that, I guess, but it feels especially stark since that was just last year that I was trying to squeegee the vinyl onto the hood of my car one little bit at a time and making a mess of it. I did so many pieces of this one totally on my own and the parts that I got help for I was much better able to direct those helping me (the roof piece went on so clean, this is the fourth roof I’ve done, mine was a disaster, the second one I did was easy because it was 70% sunroof window, and the third one was also a disaster) so the roof going much easier despite being the largest one I’ve done I think is the biggest testament to how much I’ve learned and gotten better at this.

This car basically got ship-of-Theseus’d this summer (not actually, but with the comical amount of repairs it abruptly needed on top of the wrap it sure feels like it). I definitely did more on it than my sister originally agreed to or expected but it looks really good now and has some protection from new rust forming (but oh it is full of rust. Seraph is very, very rusty). Button’s still good though, there she is!

And I wrapped some pieces on the inside of my car. Which was dangerous because for the first few weeks I kept staring at them when I should have been looking at the road.

But it’s just so pretty. These pieces were mostly a nightmare to wrap so I’m very glad I was able to remove them from the inside of the car, trying to wrap them in place would have been almost impossible. Removing them was also mildly terrifying though—these have been inside this car exposed to heat and cold and UV for 16 years I was very worried they were going to break when I removed them and around some of the thinner sections there was a little cracking (like on the thin struts between the buttons) but overall I was pleasantly surprised with how well they came off!

I also did the hood and some fun detailing around the headlights on my not-actually-but-in-spirit-sister’s car (also a Honda fit) because the paint was doing some very strange things around the edges and I was worried about it rusting on her. Rainbow sparkly black is gorgeous and also subtle, the day we were working on it was sunny so we got a nice vid of her backing out just to see the difference between shade and sun and wow.

[The following comparisons were going to be a gif, but then tumblr refused to upload it, the impact is not the same but this is the sacrifice I am making to this post to get it done.]

After doing the silver-rainbow wing on my sister’s car and this black-rainbow on my not-sister’s car it makes me want to see a whole car done up like this (and it’s tempting to consider doing that to my car in the future, but I also really want to make her green, I still have years left with the current wrap though so I have loads of time to consider). And this hood was way easier to do than my sister’s last year (they have the same car) partly because I’ve had more experience and partly because the quality of the vinyl is better and we weren’t trying to put it on when it was cold out. (The hood from last year has started pulling itself apart since it’s gotten cold out which is a bummer, that’s what I get for going for a cheap but pretty wrap I suppose.)

And finally for the car-wrap section I did a little to my sister’s steering wheel to make it look fancy:

It’s not perfect, I was, once again (foolishly) doing this when it was way too cold out to be doing it but I figure I can just redo it in the spring/summer so it’s a good trial run. I like to imagine that any person who is way too emotionally invested in cars gets really mad seeing her vehicle. Just this economy, rusty, old vehicle with a wild wrap job and a bougie looking steering wheel. Does that terrible car mods tumblr still exist, I should see if Seraph makes the cut.

And that’s all I did for car wraps this year but you can bet I wrapped plenty of other stuff. I think in 2022 I had wrapped some of those Ikea shelf-inserts because for some reason they only make them in white despite selling the unit they make it for in several shades of brown and black as well as white and I had previously painted some inserts because my sister worked at a paint store so just had a bunch of paint. The paint wasn’t great, though, I don’t know why exactly but it was always kind of ‘tacky’, my 3DS charging stand resting on it would, when moved to dust, tear of itty bitty bits of paint so I realized I could wrap them after doing the wrap for my car last summer.

And then I got more inserts and wrapped those in January 2023.

So now they match all my black ikea shelving and have a little bit of sparkle for fun. And after wrapping her car my sister got me a cricut (I had been borrowing a friend’s previously) as a thank you. (If you haven’t encountered one it’s basically a printer that uses a blade instead of ink—you load in a pattern that it then cuts). This year was my first time using one and I love it. I used to get decals and stickers all the time on etsy and now I can make my own with better quality vinyl in more options because I know car vinyl exists so I’m not beholden to the overpriced, not great quality stuff available at craft stores.

So I bought, fixed, and then modded a used 3DS XL (because my hands were cramping on my original 3DS pretty badly). I think I’ve reblogged more than one post on this but if you happen to be reading this and have a 3DS I highly recommend modding it. This poor 3DS I got was full of some kind of brown soda syrup (gross) and the thumbstick was basically falling off and didn’t move easily (because of the dried soda syrup) and part of the housing is a little smashed. I cleaned it and fixed it and made it beautiful.

I was really bad at taking before and after pictures this year. I just sort’ve did stuff and almost every time after I finished (or be mostly done) I’d be like “I didn’t get a before picture…” but she was a very, very scuffed up blue 3DS XL. I really liked the boarder patterns a lot of Zelda merchandise and the original 3DS model’s special Zelda version had (I also have a Zelda journal that uses the ocarina and harp corner details), I had to modify it so that the cricut didn’t completely eat the design while trying to cut but I really like how it turned out. She’s super sparkly now. Part of me also likes the clean look of it before I put the decal on but not enough to go back to it.

With the power of the cricut I was also able to easily make a wrap for the inside of that 3DS. I want to make a new one because this one isn’t perfect so I’ll be doing that in the upcoming year but I do overall really like the effect. It’s funny, when I first got my switch I got a cut-wrap from dbrand for it now here I am years later with a much better understanding of all of this stuff and able to make my own. I could have reshelled this 3DS but I kind of like it keeping its history underneath some pretty stickers.

The colour here is the same one that’s on the fender of my sister’s car (I had some left over). This one:

Which works super well with the 3DS because the top is open at an angle so you’ll almost always get to see different colours in the wrap as long as it’s getting good light. (My plan is to change it to a colour in the same series but with more blue/green bias than yellow/red, this colour is gorgeous but I’m more of a green/blue person. I say that as if you won’t know this. If you’re bothering to read this far you probably know this. Nobody who has been to my space will be surprised by this my walls are green-screen green.)

I also gave my older 3DS a little bit of love. It’s had a reusable Majora’s Mask sticker on it since the Majora’s Mask 3DS remake came out and I figured I could make it look cooler:

Which I also think I need to redo. I put a clear vinyl over the decal on the 3DS XL because it was the primary one I was using and I was worried about the teeny tiny details getting caught on things and peeling. I didn’t bother with my lil purple 3DS because it wasn’t getting much use but, somehow, the little fiddly bits keep getting caught on stuff so I might need to redo that decal and put a clear protective vinyl on it, too. I’ll probably keep the colour the same though I like the effect of the purple matching the case at certain angles and then turning red at other angles.

I also wrapped some other people’s devices. I wrapped a friend’s PS4, my partner’s work laptop (to better represent their workplace instead of Dell), and Steph’s 3DS (which they had previously wrapped with some leftover wrap from Button and they did a great job, but Button’s colour isn’t super exciting on small surfaces which is a bummer because I have so much extra left). Steph’s 3DS looks great, though, I was trying to convince them to let me put the same decal I made for mine so they’d be inverted versions of each other:

Alas, for now they are happy with the black sparkles (which do look great on their own, a photo really doesn’t do it justice).

And because of my play-all-the-zeldas project (mentioned somewhere previously) I’ve decided for every Zelda game I finish I’m going to put a sticker on Button. I got one for Majora 3DS but by the time I finished OoT 3DS and MM N64 etc. it was too cold out so right now I only have one:

But that gives me all winter to design and make the others and then once it’s warm enough out I can just slap all of them on. So that’s not fully something of this past year as the bulk of it is going to show up in the future but it started this year and I look forward to seeing how it’s come along next year.

With the power of the cricut I was also able to pretty easily make “back-ups” of amiibos because using little coins is much easier than juggling a bunch of toys. Definitely exclusively back-ups. And I helped friends back-up their amiibos, too! And I made them all shiny and sparkly because why not! This was super satisfying to do and also nice to know I’ll never have to pay another person to help me back-up my amiibos ever again. :) Don’t come at me Nintendo these are definitely back-ups of purchased amiibos of which I have a gazillion. These were just super satisfying to do even if the cricut sometimes scrunkled some because paper sticks way too well to even the least-adhesive cutting mat so I had to tap them down on a non-sticky mat.

And I think that’s about it for miscellaneous hobbies. I did some seasonal sticker designs for my mom’s business (I still haven’t done the New Year’s one, whoops, but I’m not being paid for this stuff so whatever). But I didn’t do anything else crazy or that was a huge time sink like all of the above.

The only other thing I want to mention is I did make a side-blog for media I finish. I haven’t started putting film on it, yet, I just started it with books and games. I’ve been meaning to finish setting it up and making it look nice but as per usual I have too many things going on and haven’t gotten to it so I may as well just plug it. It’s @aeori-b or aeori-b.tumblr.com. If you want to follow feel free, but it’s just a way for me to visually be able to see everything easily so I’m excited to have it to add to my New Years post for next year! It won’t be much more than just, photos of things I finish maybe with a sentence under it so don’t feel like you’ll be missing out on any hot takes or anything by not following. I’ve always really liked having the goodreads wall of books, its way easier to see everything I’ve read at a glance instead of just looking at titles on a list in excel. Here’s how the blog currently looks:

I haven’t done photography properly in years, and there is something very satisfying at making a little arrangement of things. One of those obviously isn’t a photo so for purely digital things I won’t be able to stretch that particular creative muscle but I really like it. So far I’ve just been really enjoying having a really small, fun little way to cap off my experience with something.

All right my word document is sitting at 23 pages I should move along.

I always like to do a little round up of the art I’ve gotten in a year so here’s that!

As per usual there is art from Steph, Vin, and Phantom in here (the top is mostly @refundtheticket, then @auyamx, then @mossrotts at the bottom). I am very blessed to have such cool friends who make and do so many cool things. There’s more art here than pictured but I’ve apparently received a lot of art this year?? Which is awesome but I can’t really fit it all into one little picture easily! Some of it is commission or requests but still!

Steph’s commissions are open, by the way, and can be found here. I think Phantom’s are too and his info can be found here.

And maybe this is weird to say but I’m really proud of all the art Vin has done this year! When they switched jobs they talked about how one of their former co-workers suddenly had more time and energy for pursuits like art and when I see a kind of drip-feed of art it doesn’t seem like a huge increase but when I’m looking back and seeing it all together it’s like… wow! Explosion of art! (Though it’s entirely possible that I’m just seeing more art because it relates to me, but still, very cool to look back and see!)

I mentioned RPs last year so the whole Vin section is our RP obsession for this year. The RPs with Vin took the unexpected jump back to the human-universe AU when two really unlikely characters hit it off in the God-world RP so now for the majority of the year we’ve been RPing how Vai and Bernie get along (with guest appearances from Lelia and Annie). It has been delightful.

I was going to make a section going over life-stuff but honestly I think I covered all the really interesting things from the year in all the hobby-stuff. 2023 had its frustrations but it also had so many good times, too. I’m becoming more powerful and I want to continue becoming more powerful in the future. Sometimes I wonder how things might be different if I had left the farm sooner. The longer I’m in a happier, more stable, and supportive environment and the more I just find myself doing things (that I never, ever would have on the farm—none of the hobbies I’ve done this year outside reading and gaming would I have done if I still lived there) the more I wonder where I would be and who I would be if I had left sooner. There’s not much point in dwelling on it, because that isn’t the universe I live in, but it is interesting how a garbage environment can really squash who you are and what you can do. I guess it’s on my mind because my not-sister is in almost the same situation I was, and is similarly unwilling to leave it that I was.

That said I have such a hard time with goals, I’ve never been good at them, even as a child I was adrift when it came to goals. In going through all of this I’m wondering if I should make my theme for the upcoming year some kind of ‘enjoy what you have’ thing. My desire to get into new hobbies is unending apparently, and I’m wondering if I should try to restrain myself this year. I really balk at the idea of restraining myself, if I feel like doing something shouldn’t I just… do it? These past few years have been very gratifying, though, I’ve done a lot of things I never thought I could do. Some of them I didn’t even realize were things you could do, to be fair, but there’s a kind of satisfaction and confidence I feel having taken up so many things, been good at them, and have had a lot to show for it.

I’ve built computers, modified devices, fixed consoles (large and small repairs) and some computers, wrapped cars (and shelves and smaller things), made a dice shelf, rigged LED lighting, set up floating shelves and plushie nets, learned excel/sheets, learned how to program rfid chips, learned how to use a cutting-printer and make decals… I don’t know, maybe I won’t be called to some other wild task this year but I have a feeling I will be. I genuinely don’t know if I should stifle that urge or not. I feel like I should because I keep making things and then feeling too ‘guilty’ to actually enjoy them.

As I continually joke (because I do think it’s funny): I built a gaming computer and have mostly played games my first computer ran in the 90s. I somehow still am not done Horizon Forbidden West and I have a back catalogue of games I’ve been meaning to get to (since Highschool). I have so many books in my tbr (some of them also going back to highschool). And on, and on. These have been “problems” for me for a long time (I think I have brought this up in literally every one of these New Year’s posts), and nobody says I have to do those things, but the fact that I keep thinking about it makes me think I should maybe take some kind of action on that front. I feel like I need a good name for it but I think I will make my ‘theme’ for this year to be to focus on and enjoy the things I have. I need a good name or something to encompass it, I might even do it as a seasonal theme and check in with how I’m feeling about it in the spring. I want to keep it broad and if I really feel called or compelled to do something I don’t want to stifle myself but I do want to try prioritizing just spending time with the things I’ve got instead of rushing off to the next thing. And I think my usual goals of reading for a certain amount of time per day and getting in so many books in a year will come naturally of this theme.

Despite getting sick this year three whole times I think it was a good year overall! Things suck on a global and national level (which I’m not even going to begin to get into here because it’s a nightmare out there) but for me on a personal level it’s been a pretty good year. Or as good, I think, as it could have been all things considered. I am hoping this upcoming year has good in store for all of us. Here is a branch absolutely covered in lichen I found a few weeks ago while shoveling snow. Gaze upon this lichen-covered branch and feel the strength to be as prosperous as these lichen infuse your soul. They will give you strength in the year to come.

My word document is 25 pages long if you read this far thank you! And if you made any sort of wrap-up or New Year’s or year-in-review or ‘top 5 things I liked in 2023’ or anything post please link me to it or tag me in it so I can see! I am, as ever, not really ‘on’ tumblr so I tend to miss this stuff.

And because tumblr is out to get me, personally, this is three parts, if you missed one go back:

Part 1 || Part 2

[the-lunar-library]

How I Spent Years Figuring Out My Book's Cover

I don't have any experience in advertising, and my digital art skills are limited, and every article on self-publishing urges you not to do your own cover, and probably they are right. But I did my own cover, and I thought I'd share some of the process. The figuring out how it should look part, not the technical part.

For a long time, I just practiced playing around with images. These weren't finished products by any means.

This image from early 2019 was one of my favorites. It's supposed to represent my protagonist Yew, reflecting on her ruined village and, by extension, some of her choices. The set up is straightforward – tragic woman gradating into a creepy graveyard. I felt it looked very similar to other covers I'd seen, which is both a good and a bad thing. A cover should clue you in to the tone and genre, so having set symbols and moods is helpful. On the other hand, you don't want your book to look like a million other people's.

Silent-film-era actress Mary Astor is standing in for Yew. The painting is by Caspar David Friedrich. To the best of my knowledge, both images are in the public domain.

For a while, I played with collages. (Pretty much all the stock photos/art is from Pixabay, which I found to be extremely helpful.) I liked the way these gothic windows formed frames, and I wanted to include both protagonists, Eider and Yew. This never made it fully into a test cover, but I did a few versions of this image, both with just photos and also including original art.

(Please admire my stock photo Iron Stag with his candle-antlers. I worked hard affixing each little flame to each little tine.)

The background I used here (Image Source: Freestock.com) is unromantically called “Plastic Chunks” in my files.

I also really like the ceiling paintings of Jules-Edmond-Charles Lachaise, so I experimented using one as a frame.

Above is a Yew cover, and below is an Eider cover.

I can't remember where I picked the asset(s?) for this background, but I suspect it was also Freestock.

I eventually decided on having both heroines front and center, each paired with an antler from one of the two mysterious stags in the story. This focal point would be a hand-drawn piece of art with less obtrusive public domain stock stuff framing it. I wanted the picture to be intricate, feel fairy-taleish, and include different elements from the story – a snake, a diary, flowers, mirror shards, a pear, seeds, antlers, and a hand mirror.

My first sketch had the basic idea down, but it was very long and skinny and with the title as part of the drawing it felt too tattoo-y to me. Though, looking closely, I see I included Pete the mule's head (upside down, just under the word “magic”), and it's sad he didn't make the final cut.

So I made the image more of a circle and worked really hard until I was proud of it.

From there, I just had to decide on which assets to use and what colors to go for. I really liked the combination of dark desaturated reds and blues in this one, along with the very gothic doily frame. However, it also felt somewhat cluttered, maybe a better design for a poster than something that was going to have text on top of it.

There's also a lot I like about this one, the cold colors, the blending of ice and aged iron. (The original title for the novel was The Iron Claws.) But again, that border felt like it would be fighting with any text thrown over it.

I was also concerned whether the central image would look too small and muddled in thumbnail, so I did this very stripped down version. I wasn't a big fan of it, but it's interesting.

(By the way, you may have noticed that none of these share the actual dimensions of my real book cover. I hadn't even done the page layout yet at this point, and this was all very much in the testing stage.)

As it turned out, I was on the right track with the earlier gothic doily cover. Aside from the hand-drawn image, I ended up going with different assets, most notably a smaller frame, deeper colors, and additional borders along the sides. (This image also isn't in the proper scale.) I did this cover over and over again, making little adjustments until I was satisfied.

What do you think? Did I make the right call?

Here’s info on the book itself: THE PRICE AND PREY OF MAGIC

[zenplayss]

2-4-2 Wakabamori (RENO) Part 1

Hey Simmers,

I was inspired to rebuild the Yume household from Ashwarrplays "Yume Series". Please note I AM NOT THE ORIGINAL CREATOR OF THIS BUILD. I just took the time to find all the CC used for this build :)

All credit goes to these following creators:

House Shell Creator: EA - Alexasimi

Interior Creator: @Ashwarrplays TikTok

Sims 4 Pack's required for this lot: Snowy Escape, Cat & Dogs, Desert Lux Kit, Island Living, Bathroom Clutter Kit, Laundry Day Pack, Jungle Adventures, Seasons, Cool Kitchen, Spa Day, Bust the Dust Kit, Eco lifestyle, Growing Together.

You can find the build on my EA Name: zencreatorplays

MODS:

Grannies Cookbook - [04-06-2024 ] | Patreon

CC List:

Downloads — House of Harlix (Download ALL)

precious promises - collab with pierisim: download | Patreon

Small Spaces: Laundry Room (CC Pack for The Sims 4) | Patreon

The Sims 4 Chic Bathroom Stuff Pack | Patreon

𝓓𝓪𝓷𝓭𝔂 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝔂 part I | Patreon

𝓓𝓪𝓷𝓭𝔂 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝔂 part II | Patreon

Windex CC (located on shelf in laundry room) by mod creator has been removed from their Tumblr. I suggest Google a different cc pack for "cleaning supply cc" to replace this CC item.

windex leo-sim - Search Images (bing.com)

Simsational Designs: Hudson Bathroom - Collection of 31 New Items (Download ALL)

[DOWNLOAD] Fitness set | Patreon

DOWNLOAD - Wave Living | Patreon

(1) TINY STEREOS LIBERATED BY STEFIZZI Simfileshare (mirror) – @stefizzi on Tumblr

MCM House part 1 | Patreon

MCM House part 2 | Patreon

MCM House part 3 | Patreon

MCM House part 4 | Patreon

MCM House part 5 | Patreon

CEPZID Fitness Pack: https://www.patreon.com/file?h=68907168&i=11246635

OAK HOUSE part.1 - download link | Patreon

OAK HOUSE part.2 - download link | Patreon

OAK HOUSE part.3 - download link | Patreon

OAK HOUSE part.4 - download link | Patreon

OAK HOUSE Part5 - download link | Patreon

OAK HOUSE part.6 - download link 1/2 - updated | Patreon

OAK HOUSE part.6 - download link 2/2 | Patreon

[DOWNLOAD] Crossfit Reborn set | Patreon

Fitness cc sims 4 - Syboulette Custom Content for The Sims 4

Myshunosun - Dawn Living Set (Paintings) : https://www.patreon.com/file?h=61950933&i=10219795

• boho living stuff pack • | Patreon (Download ALL)

Jules bedroom set | Patreon

November 2021 Set (2) - Animal Lovers | Patreon ($ PAYWALL $)

Cluttercat CC (lilritualplate) Smudge Bowl w/ Sage : Sim File Share - Filehosting for Simmers

The Sims Resource - Advent 2022 - Lilies vase

Auntie Vera's Bathroom | Patreon

The Sims Resource - Retro Vibe Hanging Coat

The Sims Resource - Winter Choices - Ice skating boots

ＢＡＢＹ ＢＯＯ | Patreon

The Kerv Collection - Part 1 | greenllamas | Patreon

The Kerv Collection - Part 2 | greenllamas | Patreon

Domaine du Clos - part 1 | Patreon

Domaine du Clos - part 2 | Patreon

Domaine du Clos - part 3 | Patreon

Domaine du Clos - part 4 | Patreon

Rollers & Ice skates + Decorative Rinks & Skates at In a bad Romance » Sims 4 Updates

Hermès Kelly Bag - Decor - 9 colors - Find it... | S L Y D (retired) (tumblr.com)

Sierra The Simmer's CC Finds — bergdorfverse: Chanel 19 Bag & Round CC Sunglasses... (tumblr.com)

Bergdorfverse - Dior Street Chic Bag Hey everyone, here is a... (tumblr.com) ($ PAYWELL $)

Woody Tote Bag | Patreon ($ PAYWALL $)

Deauville Bag | Patreon ($ PAYWALL $)

Bergdorfverse - Versace Virtus Bucket Bag Hey guys, the Versace... (tumblr.com) ($ PAYWALL $) (use this to replace in game Versace bag that is inside the walk-in closet in bedroom)

soak - stuff pack: overview | Patreon

Master bedroom pack | Patreon

🧡Oran-Sandals 🧡(Deco) | Patreon ($ PAYWALL $) (Hermes slides that are at foot of bed in game & in walk-in closet)

(3) Balenciaga Bergarcia Set feat. Clepto by Cleo – @bergdorfverse on Tumblr ($ PAYWALL $)

lavish - stuff pack: download | Patreon

[DOWNLOAD] Agnes set (remastered cc) | Patreon

5# Simple Live Collection - Bathroom（10/6/23 Update） | Patreon

E N I O S T A . — tine. 45 new meshes. free. download (tumblr.com)

WINTER GARDEN | Patreon

WINTER GARDEN part 2 | Patreon

[absinthiium]

@dragoncanefangs​: Proceeds to send Dogma a letter with the word LOL typed out and signed from Tine.

“... You son of a bitch.” Dogma’s brow twitches in anger as he sees the signature on the note. As he crushes it in his hand, it turns to ashes with a burst of flames.

“Even I’m not this petty... So he knows, huh?” Alice must have told him... He could only hope he didn’t cause her too much trouble.

[horrorsummerromance]

pear in her bisexual coloured sweaters in episode 3.

[hyperionsimsdesign]

CC Spotlight: Living Room

I built this simplistic but cozy living room for 132b Parched Prospect, more information available on my website. There is a quick video tour of the entire lot on YouTube.

This post is to highlight some of the amazing CC used.

Image 1: Fireplace corner

Chair: Fusion chair, mesh by @leosims4cc, recolors by @13pumpkin31 |x|.

Carpet: Nordic gotland sheepskin rug from the NEIDEN Nordic reading corner set by righthearted |x|.

Side table: Shara endtable by @nynaevedesign |x|.

Lamp: Loft bedroom lamp by Modern.

Curtains: Drapery delights by @peacemaker-ic.

Fireplace: FC Raw Steel Fireplace by hel studio.

Fire tools: Tine firepoker by @eniosta |x|.

Logs: Rustic stone fireplace log holder by daer0n.

Matches: Rustic stone fireplace match holder by daer0n.

Image 2: Backdoor

Easel: Nordic wooden Easel from the NEIDEN Nordic reading corner set by righthearted |x|.

Plant: Naturalis plant - burlap sack by @simcredibledesigns |x|.

Mirror: Ere floor mirror by @eniosta |x|.

Leaf: Meenah palmleaf by @pinkbox-anye |x|.

Plant: Margot vase by @pinkbox-anye |x|.

Image 3: Seating

Couch, ottoman, tray, blanket and cushions: From the connect modular set by @nynaevedesign |x|.

Carpet: Lovina Rug by @sundays-sims |x|.

Heater: TS4 Cleo livingroom heating radiator by Severinka.

Wall art: Tine wall art by @eniosta |x|.

Image 4: Television and shelves

Lamp: TS4 Oasis bedroom - floor lamp by Severinka.

Console: Treku tv unit by @pacosims |x|.

TV: Montana curved television by @artvitalex.

Shelves: From the Agnes set by @syboubou |x|.

Deco items on console: Cruz office succulent by @pinkbox-anye |x|, Mac mini pc by @mxims, Sys chain by @pinkbox-anye |x|, KV smart speakers by @eniosta |x|.

Deco items on top shelf: Connect books vertical by @nynaevedesign |x|, Raska bust by @pinkbox-anye |x|, Second valley leaning art by @eniosta |x|, Noble gold tray and apples by hel studio, Snowfall large antlers by @pinkbox-anye |x|, RH Wooden planter RC by @mxims.

Deco items on bottom shelf: Ubud ceramic vase by @sundays-sims |x|, ere vase with eucalyptus by @eniosta |x|, meenah container by @pinkbox-anye |x|, NY Dice kit by hel studio, Margot books by @pinkbox-anye |x|, Soho spa deco glass bottle by hel studio, Artistloft storage container by @pinkbox-anye |x|, Constanta - decor triangle by winner9 |x|.

[earthfluuke]

welcome to part 3! i’m very excited about this one, so i hope you all enjoy it! 

just a reminder: i based some parts of the nymphs off of the nymphs from greek mythology, but for the most part, they are whatever i made them up to be.

parts: 1 / 2 / 2.5 / 3

Sarawat has the entire town fooled, but Earn is smarter. She knows her best friend, knows when there’s something he’s hiding. Finding resources and deciding if the land is stable enough to move in on doesn’t take this long. Weeks have gone by; enough is enough.

It should surprise her to find Sarawat entangled with a boy adorned in flowers, eyes taking over his face when he catches a glimpse of her. And it should surprise her even more when she finds herself chasing after them when they dart down the opposite side of the hill to the banks of the river. But neither can compare to the slack jaw, awe struck shock she feels when she sees her.

Ankle deep in the water, the girl stands proud. Back straight, arms stretched to her sides, her palms lay flat, fingers spread with the threat of forming another wave. Her brown eyes hold fear when they bore into Sarawat but morph to protective when they flicker to the flower-draped boy. Sun light reflects off the pink and gold scales that outline her cheeks and round over the curve of her temple.

To anyone else who happened to be blessed by her presence would consider her mystical, magical, otherworldly. But the only word that comes to Earn’s mind is beautiful.

Everything around her – Sarawat, the flower boy, the forest in front of them and the field behind – disappears, and there’s nowhere to look but at her. Her desire to go forward is just as strong as her need to pull herself back. Potential of scaring her off keeps her grounded, and all she can do is watch her through the hazy, golden halo her mind – or is it her heart? – has set around her.

Sarawat breaks her free. Hands shaking her arms, he begs her, pleads her, to keep what she’s seen to herself, to not under any circumstances tell anyone else in town, to please, for him.

“Who is she?” she hears herself asking between his cries. She looks over his shoulder towards the girl. She’s calmer now, at ease, as she takes the boy’s – the one she can only assume belongs to Sarawat – hands into her own. Her softened features send Earn’s heart into double time.

“I don’t know,” Sarawat answers quickly before he goes back to his frenzy. “But, Earn. Please. For me. For him. Tine; his name is Tine. Please don’t tell anyone about this. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just please. Please.”

She finally looks to her best friend, and she cannot remember a time he’s looked more serious, more scared. His fingers dig into her, but they shake at the same time. This boy must be special, if he can turn Sarawat to this.

“I won’t tell,” she finally swears and accepts the bone crushing hug she’s pulled into.

…

A condition comes with her promise. Not because she needs anything to maintain her secrecy but rather because she’s desperate.

She follows after Sarawat and parts ways with him at the apple tree. Canvas in her satchel, easel strung over her back, she sets her makeshift studio out along the banks of the river. Cups of paint circled around her, she picks out a brush and loses herself to her art.

She starts with the bases – the pale blue sky, the dark green grass, the teal river she shades to appear crystal. Fluffs of clouds and sharp tree branches follow. Final touches in the forms of a cluster of cattails growing at the edges of the river and the lily pads floating atop it near complete the painting. But there’s one thing missing.

Every so often, she lifts up her brush to glance at the river, pay close attention to it to catch bright eyes or mirrored scales. Luck comes to her just as the sun sets. When she goes to switch brushes, she spots her, the girl from the river, the beautiful mystery, the one thing missing from her painting.

Eyes peeking over the surface of the water, they watch her. She doesn’t raise up any further, but Earn has what she’s come for. It’s a rush job to add her into the painting, but she can’t contain her excitement.

She tip-toes towards the river as to not scare her. She bends, bends, bends over until the tip of her nose is a mere breath from the girl’s forehead. Only then does she duck away, quick movement startling Earn face first into the river.

She watches from beneath the water as the girl disappears downstream. The current that follows her carries one word to her ear: Pear.

…

Her mistake isn’t one she intends to make again, and it comes with consequences. For the next week, there is no sign of Pear. Earn remains optimistic, continues to believe that she will return when she once again feels safe. But by the seventh day, she’s beginning to grow discouraged.

She waits until the sky turns a golden orange, pink sprouting out from the setting sun, to add it to her painting. It’s the same scene she’s been painting for days, but this one is brighter, a burst of color against the familiar neutrals she now paints like they are second nature.

Sudden water droplets drip onto her pant leg, and her head is whipping to the side before she can stop herself. She’s met with a cheek covered in pink and gold scales, and now that she’s close enough, she takes note of how they also dip down her neck.

Pear isn’t looking at her, gaze instead set on her painting. Earn doesn’t dare move, barely lets herself breathe, as she steps closer. Her foot – also covered in scales that dissolve up over the outside of her calf – hits a cup filled with pink paint.

Picking it up, she dips in a webbed finger. It comes out the same color as the paint, the same color as her scales, and in one last surge of curiosity, she presses it to the very center of the canvas.

She looks both surprised and terrified to see that she’s left her mark on something that isn’t hers. Taking a step back, she’s ready to bolt within seconds. But Earn doesn’t give her the chance.

Quickly covering her own finger in red paint, she places her fingerprint next to the one Pear left. Turning to her, Earn offers her a soft smile, one that reaches her eyes and tells her everything is just fine. Pear returns it, and she feels a small flame warm her heart.

It only grows when she dips her finger back into the paint and decorates the entire frame. By the time she’s filled half the canvas, she motions to Earn’s hand. Too afraid to make the wrong move and send her hiding back in the depths of the river, she stays still. With an unsatisfied huff, Pear takes it upon herself to lift her hand and press her paint covered finger back onto the painting.

The feel of her hand wrapping around her wrist engulfs Earn’s chest with fire, and she burns. Her insides are impossibly hot from a single touch, and it worries her to think of what anything more could do to her.

She cools herself down by littering red fingerprints in the spaces between Pear’s pink ones. By the time they’re done, the image beneath is unrecognizable. And yet it’s the most wonderful painting Earn has ever made.

…

“You look happy,” Sarawat comments as they journey back to town.

“Maybe I am,” she says, readjusting the canvas in her arms. Stroking over the raised bits of paint, only just dry, she hugs it close to her. The distance between her and Pear dulls the flame in her chest, but it sparks at the thought of having this small piece of her. “I don’t think I really knew what happy was until today.”

…

Two canvases are heavy, but the extra weight is a small price to pay for her to see Pear waiting for her in the grass beside the river.

Setting up the extra easel, Earn gifts her with her own set of brushes. Lips pursed and eyebrows arched, she holds the brushes in the flat of her palm, running a tip through the bristles and watching them bounce back in intrigue. This innocent curiosity along with the tiny gasp she gives all but melts Earn into the ground below.

It’s trying to get the brushes to fit between the webbing in Pear’s fingers, but their attempts are finally met with success. “You can paint whatever you like,” Earn tells her, timid and gentle, nerves of scaring Pear away still bubbled high in her stomach. “There are lots of colors to choose from, see?”

Uncapping each cup, she offers Pear the pink. Familiarity hits her, and her smile outshines the sun. She’s off from there, and Earn should be as well. But each time she turns to her canvas, she’s drawn to the one beauty her art can never replicate.

Pear’s strokes are calculated, careful. And yet her wrist bends just so, loose and at ease, languid lines bleeding over the page. She’s very much the river she resides in; the calm stream flows freely, quiet and serene. But then there’s a wave, a crash against the banks, whenever she makes a mistake. Suddenly, she’ll still, wait, and Earn prepares for the flood that never comes. She breathes deep, exhales slow, and returns to tranquility.

The end product isn’t much more than a collection of lines with the occasional stray fingerprint. But it’s Pear, and for that, it is everything.

…

“What shall we paint today?” Earn asks, back to Pear as she adjusts the canvas along the ridge of the easel. Having watched Earn’s creations, Pear had become less keen on the abstract of her lines and wanted something more realistic. They’d begun with flowers, moved up to small frogs that politely sat still when Pear asked them to, advanced with the forest of trees on the opposite side of the river. Any mistake Pear makes is met with kind reassurance, a helping hand atop hers that guides the brush the correct way, a smile that she eventually returns.

Brushing off her hands on her pants, she turns to meet a held out hand. She accepts it easily, because of course she does. It fits nicely in her own, even around the webbing, and she dares a stroke of her thumb over the scales that cover her knuckles. They’re cool and smooth and unlike anything else she’s ever felt.

There’s a light tug, a shake of her arm, and it calls Earn’s attention upwards, to Pear’s pretty face and desperate eyes. They’re endless, large enough to hold oceans, captivate Earn to the point of no return. Only when Pear squeezes her hand does she break away to ask, “You want to paint me?”

The nod she gives is shy but firm. She’s head set despite her concerns, and Earn is in no position to deny her. She allows her to position her how she wants, tries and ultimately fails to keep her breath even when Pear pushes her every which way until she’s satisfied.

Behind the easel, she’s focused, pinched brows and scrunched nose taking over her features. Earn truly does her very best to maintain her far off gaze, but she cannot help but be magnetized back to Pear. Art is creating art before her; not staring is futile.

Time passes too slow and yet too fast, and Pear is shifting from foot to foot with her bottom lip between her teeth. Seeing her brush set aside, Earn gets up and circles around to the opposite side of the canvas.

Altogether, it’s a messy attempt. Edges are jagged, colors blur together. But there are lighter brown highlights that show the sun reflecting off her hair and curved lines etched into the center of her lips. Small details that Earn has only mentioned in passing decorate her portrait, and it sets her ablaze once more. The hopeful glances Pear gives her, hands clasped together in front of her chest, do little to extinguish it. This girl will char her to a pile of ash, but if her way to go is by the slope of her smile and the hesitant flush to her cheeks, then by all means, take her.

“It’s lovely,” she says. Her shoulders sag in relief, and Earn takes the opportunity to grab her hands once more. “I’ll have to find a frame for it. It’ll look so nice in my room.”

Smile widening across her cheeks, Pear pulls herself closer, giggling high and sweet, jingling bells sounding through her ears and heart. Earn lets their arms drop, dangle between them as her head tips forward. There’s still a space between them, but it’s enough. Especially when Pear doesn’t back away.

…

Guitar strings strum behind them, and they draw Pear from her canvas. Gaze up the hill, she’s distracted long enough for Earn to notice.

Setting down her brush, she swivels to look up towards the apple tree, towards where the notes are drifting from. “You want to listen to the music?” she asks. “We can; I’m sure Wat wouldn’t mind a bigger audience.”

She’s tugged backwards just as she moves forward. Both of her wrists are caught, and suddenly she’s being swung around the field, twirled around and around and around. It’s dizzying, and her vision kaleidoscopes; she can make out colors, patterns, but not much else. Catching a flash of Pear’s face, her wide smile, she’s serenaded by the giggles she gives as they fall into an unled dance.

Time passes, the song changes, but they still move together – in, out, back, forth. And then she’s falling, crashing into the shallow end of the river, water beneath her and Pear atop. She catches her by the shoulders, holds her up, and when the shock wears off, she realizes this is the closest they’ve been.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once. She wants to stay, try for more, test the figurative and literal water with her. But there are boundaries, hurdles, stepping stones they have yet to get past, over, around; barreling forward head on will only get her hurt.

She’s held down as she goes to sit up, and she dares a glance. Wide eyes are hard to read, but at the very corner, small enough to miss, there is that ferocity Earn saw the very first day she’d spotted her. There is fear and pause, but along with that is passion, the very thing that keeps her strong and steady.

That passion drives her forward. Hand cupping the side of her head, Earn fits her fingers below her ear, threads them through her hair. Chin tipping up, still not daring a full lurch, her eyes flicker to Pear’s lips and there’s an intense want, an unquenchable need.

Patience dwindling, fire growing, she inches further. And that seems to be enough. Fists in her shirt collar, eyes on hers until they finally shut, Pear closes the gap Earn is too afraid to.

Every sense bursts to life at once. Scents of damp grass, river water with a touch of floral; sounds of dragonflies buzzing by and a familiar tune taught to her by the elders in the village floating from the top of the hill; touches of brown tendrils brushing across her cheeks as their heads tilt, soft skin and hard scales contrasting beneath her palms; tastes of apples and finally and yes; and the sight of the most beautiful girl, most beautiful creature, most beautiful anything that graces this very earth flushing pink and dipping her head when they pull apart.

Her fluster doesn’t deter her far. She lets herself be held, and Earn’s heart, spirit, soul soars far from her body. No more spaces between, no more hesitations. She pulls her back, waits for the slow sigh Pear gives against her lips before she deepens.

The fire roars on, and slowly the embers turn to ash.

…

Her return is met with a tangle of limbs and lips against her ear. Stepping back to steady herself, her hands come to rest upon the curve of Pear’s spine, fingers dancing up and down the ridges.

“Hello,” she breathes through a laugh, tilting up her chin when Pear nudges beneath it. “I’m sorry I haven’t come for a few days; my parents needed my help around the house. But I snuck a few of the tarts my mother made into my bag. Will that make up for it?”

Pear doesn’t go for her bag, for the treats. She instead goes for her mouth, bleeds relief and happiness and I missed you into it. Hands pressing against her waist, pushing their torsos closer, she turns to her jaw, her cheek, her nose, to brush all of her emotions there as well.

Earn lets her, soaks in every second. Only when she pulls back, gives a satisfied giggle, does she return the affection. Butterfly kisses flutter about her skin, followed by the whispers of longing and the promise of it will never happen again.

It has only been a few days, but the effect is strong. Paint brushes untouched, canvases downturned, her inspiration had fallen from her, dropped over a cliff into the abyss. Here – grass blades tickling her ankles, the coolness of scales beneath her fingertips, her beautiful nymph in her arms – her imagination bursts to life; it spills back into her. And as she rests her forehead against Pear’s temple, she cannot help but think the muse never left. It has only been waiting for her to return to it, for now it resides here. In this meadow, by the lake, with Pear.

…

Knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder. Not even a breath of air can pass between them, not with how close they’re sitting. Pear’s forearm pressing heat into hers, they look out towards the water. Sun shining down, the ripples crystalize under the light.

Earn turns to the nymph at her side. She’s blinded by the reflection of her scales and wonder of how someone like her – so astonishingly, mind-bogglingly perfect – can exist; and alongside that, how she has the pleasure of existing with her.

Fingers finding the root of a long stem beside her, she plucks upwards. A water lily – jasmine pearl, white petals fading to purple – fills her palm, and she goes to tuck it behind Pear’s ear.

Reaching to touch it, eyes questioning as they look to her, Pear doesn’t even realize how very fitting the scene is. The flower is her twin: a delicate, gorgeous bloom that captivates anyone who stumbles upon it, making it impossible to look anywhere else. It’s breathtaking. It’s stunning. It’s her.

“I can’t make you a flower crown,” she admits. Pushing back some of her hair that dares to fall over the flower, she offers her a smile. “But you deserve to get flowers as beautiful as you are from someone who loves you.”

Distance closing, she whispers, breath fanning against Pear’s lips, “And I’d like to be that someone.”

Earn sees a smile stretch across her face before her eyes shut fully and their lips come together. There are so many things to feel all at once. Love, desire, a raging fire. But more than anything else, happiness spreads through her, bursting wide like the flower behind Pear’s ear. Happiness, she thinks as their hands come to hold each other. This is it.

[cosmicdes]

Still2gether: It's a yes

Tine would've never thought his life would be like this, his fake boyfriend from college is now his real boyfriend while they are about to graduate college. Tine looked at what to wear as Sarawat texted Tine saying they were going to go out to eat. Sarawat has been acting strange, whenever Tine walked close to Wat and his friends they all ran away. Tine just thought it was because of the music club or finals. They both knew finals were a hassle but at the end when Tine finished his finals he knew Wat was waiting with his favorite drink. 

Tine went to the closet and looked at the clothes, he didn't know if he should dress formal or no. He just grabbed a black tshirt, jean jacket, and jeans. He looked at himself in the mirror, catching the post it notes that littered the walls. The most recent one was on that said they would grow old together. Tine imagined that for a quick second a old Sarawat saying a quick one liner that he always says. Tine shook his head as he laughed at that image. He grabbed his phone and keys and went out to meet his friends.

Tine went into the cafe to see these idiots he calls friends, they jumped a little as he walked to them. "Is everything all right". Tine asked them as he sat down. "Yes, everything is all right". Fong and Ohm said at the same time. They both looked at each other. Tine looked at them "You are acting suspicious what's up". Fong looked at Ohm and gave a look to tell him not to talk "It's finals. I have one tomorrow and I don't know if I'll pass". Ohm laughed "You've been studying all night of course you'll pass". Tine looked as Fong blushed a little. The rest of the time they had small talk as Fong and Ohm kept exchanging small looks at each other. 

They all left together from the cafe, they started to walk around the campus. Fong got a text message and showed it to Ohm. They both nodded as Tine was too engrossed on the trees. "I heard the college is opening a new cafe, we should go". Fong said, Tine nodded as his friends grabbed on to him and ran to the cafe.

Tine heard music from a distance, he stood outside of the small cafe. It looked empty from the outside. Ohm and Fong opened the door and held it open for Tine. He was amazed by what he saw. Lights littered the ceiling of the cafe, their was a small stage on the corner. Tine waved at the people that were their, it was mostly people from the music club and the cheerleadering squad. He sat down on the only empty table right at the center of the cafe. The music stopped and Earn and Pear went up on stage. "I'm glad everyone is enjoying our new cafe. Tine looked at the table, little cartoons of Pears were on the tables. Earn and Pear went down and went to the back of the small stage. Tine ate the small bakery stuff they had and didn't notice that a chair was on the stage. 

Tine looked up to see pictures start to show on the wall, a projector at the ceiling of the cafe. It showed all his friends and Wat's friends. It showed a small interview of Earn and Pear holding hands as they talked about the cafe, how they kept it a secret until they were finished. The pictures slowly disappeared and slowly turned to the couples of the group of friends. Earn and Pear at the beach smiling at each other. Then Man and Type had pictures some of them from when they facetimed. Then Mil and Phukong were next them holding hands as they walked. Then ohm and fong showed up it was a blurry picture but you could still feel the love in the picture. Even Green and Dim had pictures. Then it went to Sarawat and Tine. It started from when they started to fake date and slowly to when they confessed to each other. To when they did start to date for real. To them getting the apartment and even some lq pictures that Sarawat took of Tine. The screen started to fade as the post it note let's grow old together was the last picture. 

The lights turned off and Tine was a little nervous but everyone seemed fine so he calmed down a little. He saw someone sit on the chair, shaking his leg a little Tine could tell the person was nervous. The lights turned back on and Tine gasped as he saw Sarawat sitting on the chair. Sarawat wore a dressy black shirt and jeans. Sarawat smiled and cleared his throat "When Earn and Pear asked me to sing at their opening day for the cafe I said yes immediately although Earn did threaten me a little. I'm a little nervous but here it goes". 

Sarawat started to sing and Tine felt himself melt, he loved how Sarawat was like when playing the guitar. He almost shined, as the lights in the ceiling glistened. Tine didn't even notice that slowly by slowly his friends were taking out their phones to record. Sarawat looked at Tine and stopped playing. "Tine can you come up here". Sarawat said into the microphone as Tine felt Ohm and Fong push him a little to the stage. Tine walked to the stage, a little nervous as Sarawat held his hand for Tine to grab it. Sarawat spoke into the microphone about Tine and turned to Tine "This is for you". Sarawat started to play and Tine noticed it was a medley of Scrubb songs. Tine started to sing along as Sarawat kept playing. Sarawat then started to sing a song Tine didn't know. Tine heard the lyrics and smiled as Sarawat sang about them and their relationship. The song was ending and Sarawat stopped playing to get something in his pocket. He put the guitar down amd started to get off the chair. He breathed in as he got on one knee. "Tine you have made me so happy and although some people might think this is too early, as the post it note says let's grow old together. So Tine would you do me the honor of being engaged to me and we can grow old together". Tine started to cry as he shook his head yes. The cheers of his friends and everyone cheering. Tine looked at Sarawat, even he was crying a little. Sarawat and Tine hugged each other and kissed each other. They grabbed each others hands and held them up, their engagement rings glistening just as they were.

Thanks for everyone reading this

[weilongfu]

Nature or Nurture (It all runs in the family) - The boy over the flowers

Summary: Bohn attempts to explain to his dads why it’s so hard to tell Duen to stop bringing him flowers. It turns out that convoluted plans are just another part of the family.

------

Bohn’s phone rang as he pulled onto the highway. The smell of roses still hung in the air of the car, making Bohn hope it was Duen calling him. A glance at the console told him it was only wishful thinking before he hit the button to answer it on his steering wheel.

“Hi dad,” Bohn said. “Is something wrong?”

“I should be asking you that. Shouldn’t you be in class?” Tine asked but there was a bit of mirth in his voice. “Don’t tell me you’re skipping class to woo your boy.”

“Hah! Of course not, dad. He skips class for me apparently.” Despite how his dad couldn’t see, Bohn flipped his hair anyway. 

“Don’t get so cocky, he shouldn’t skip class. And last time too, you told me he’s a Faculty of Medicine student? How will he become a doctor like this?”

“Dad, don’t be so upset. You have such a smart son becoming an engineer. Now you want your son-in-law to be a doctor. You’re becoming too greedy.”

“Who’s greedy!” Bohn laughed while his dad grumbled. “In any case, you shouldn’t tell him to keep buying you flowers every day if it means skipping class.” 

“I… Uh… I tried. Today,” Bohn said, eyes faltering just a bit from the road to look at the console. “My friends teased me about it so…”

“Oh King and all of them? That’s a silly reason to stop.” Tine huffed. “If I had listened to your Uncles Fong, Phuk, and Ohm, your father and I would have never gotten together.”

“Dad, they persuaded you to tell papa to fake date you into getting Uncle Green to leave you alone.” Bohn smiled. “And papa fake dated you even though he knew about Uncle Green and Uncle Dim just to spend time with you. I don’t think you or papa get to critique people on telling others to give up convoluted plans.”

“Nonsense. If I want to criticize them, I will. Especially when they tried to step in when your father already told me he liked me.” 

“Papa pretended he hadn’t had a crush on you for a year.”

“Exactly. And so I’m going to keep criticizing him for that as well.”

Bohn rolled his eyes. “Put papa on the phone. He’ll sympathize with me. He knows what it’s like to struggle to get the boy you like to spend time with you.” Bohn looked at his bag in the rear view mirror. “It’s not easy when he’s so good and so bad at the same time.” Bohn’s eyes returned to the road, but all he could see was the image of Duen holding out flowers. “He looked so cute today… Holding out different flowers for me to choose from. I couldn’t help myself. Whenever he gave me an option, I picked whatever looked as beautiful as him.”

Tine huffed. “You and your father are too similar. I knew that’s why he picked you.”

“Papa said you picked me because my face was charming like yours,” Bohn said with a sly smile. “Are you saying that my face isn’t as handsome and chic as yours, dad?”

“What kind of audacity… Of course you look as handsome as I do. You’re my son!” Bohn nodded, his ploy had worked. “It’s in your brows, in your eyes, your smile… I taught you that smirk!”

“Yes, yes. I remember, dad.”

“And you think you got your fashion sense from your father? No, no. If I’d have left it to him, you’d be dressing like someone from the country all the time.” A muffled noise came in over the speakers and Bohn had a suspicion of what it was. “Yes, I will call you out for that, Saraleo!” Tine’s voice came back in a little clearer despite being muffled. “You’re STILL wearing those old flip flops! I told you to get new ones!” Another muffled remark. “Go buy new ones yourself!” After another muffled comment, Tine’s voice came in clearly again. “Oh whatever. You and your father… Fine. If you think you need this ploy just to spend time with your boy, then do it. But remember, your studies are not something to neglect!”

“Yes, dad. I promise.” Bohn rolled his eyes. “Why did you call in the first place? Was it to try to catch me flirting?”

“Like I need to try to do that, you little heartbreaker.” Tine sighed. “Your cousin Ben needs to be picked up today since Phukong needs to work overtime tonight and Mil is still out of the country. Be good and take care of him today.”

“Yes, dad!”

“And stop skipping class to flirt!”

“You joined a club to flirt, stop chastising him.” Bohn snickered as his dads started to bicker.

“Okay, okay. I’m hanging up now. I’ll call you when I pick up Ben and I’ll even let him stay the night in my dorm.”

“Good. Drop him off at school tomorrow too. Phukong should be able to get him then,” Sarawat said. 

“Did dad give you the phone?”

“No. I took it.” Bohn snickered again. “But I warned you, stupid boys are trouble.”

“I promise you, he’s bound to be less dense than dad. He’s a medical student, papa.”

“I’ll believe it if it takes less than a semester for him to start dating you.” With that, Sarawat hung up and Bohn turned for the next exit to pick up Ben. 

“I get no respect,” Bohn whined. “I am clearly greater than the sum of those two parts.”

Bohn’s phone beeped with a text and the car console read it out for him. “Text from, Papa. Don’t get ahead of yourself. The sum of two negatives is still negative.”

“Did you burn you and dad just to burn me?!”

[zscalatian]

Migelo's sundries

Migelo bustled around his shop checking inventory: perfumes, incense, potions, eye drops, and ethers.  Lamp oil and lamps, candles, fire-starters.  Cups and pitchers, bowls and platters, gleaming racks of knives, spoons, and two-tined forks.  Waist-high jugs of grain and nuts and dried fruits, each with its own wooden measuring scoop tied to the mouth of the jug.  Barrels and bottles, both empty and full of imported liquors.  Hand mirrors, combs, ribbons, thread, pins, and needles.  A wide assortment of the odds and ends that every household needed.  

The corner that held bolts of fabric and square stacks of scrap fabric for mending was lacking.  Not a huge problem, as the fabric he got in was most often excess from tailors and seamstresses, but he didn’t like seeing empty shelves.  There were a few bundles of basic cotton cloth left, but nothing bright to draw a customer’s eyes.

One of the orphans he’d hired came around the corner then, the daughter of an old customer.  Migelo held up a clawed hand to catch her attention.

“Ah, Penelo.  When you see Vaan next, ask if he can run down to Cici’s, then over to Javet’s to check if they have any extra fabric they’d let off for a good price.”

She nodded brightly.  “Alright, I’ll let him know.”

He turned back to his inspection of the shelves.  It seemed he was lacking for dyes as well.  Some supplies and wares were still hard to come by.  The war was over, but it would be long before Dalmasca and Rabanastre recovered.  If they ever did.  Or would Archades swallow them into its own image?  

“Bah, is no good thinking like that,” he muttered, clearing the thoughts from his head.  Still, he made a note to bring in more of the bright colors - turquoise, crimson, sunny yellow, - that were the staple palette of a Dalmascan wardrobe.

[thegreenwolf]

Nature’s Lovely Imperfections

By Lupa

Originally posted at my blog, A Sense of Natural Wonder

Recently I had someone contact me about a deer antler headband that I have in my Etsy shop. They asked whether the antlers had come from the same deer, given that one antler has two tines and one has three. I explained that yes, these were in fact from one animal, and I had cut them off the skullcap myself. In fact, most deer have antlers that aren’t exact mirror images of each other; even those with the same number of tines often have variations in shape and size.

Art forms ranging from nature illustrations to Disney movies would have us believe that nature is largely symmetrical and perfect (unless, of course, when portraying something allegorically flawed, in which case there is deformity.) And at first glance most living beings appear to be more or less even on both/all sides.

But look a little closer, and you find that there are subtle differences when comparing halves, or fifths, or whatever symmetry is being displayed. Perhaps one arm of a starfish is slightly longer than the other. Or the underside of a red-tailed hawk’s left wing has a little more color than the right. If you were to take a photo of your face, cut it exactly in half, copy the halves, flip them over and match like to like, you would find that there are quite a few appreciable differences between each of your facial hemispheres.

Imperfections aren’t just about symmetry, either. Leucism and albinism are conditions in which animals lack significant amount of melanin, making them much paler than their kin. A butterfly whose wings may be a bit ragged and worn around the edges can still fly, even if not quite as well. And a genetic quirk in a certain strain of wheat several thousand years ago led to grains that stuck to the stem instead of falling off easily to grow into new plants; the ease with which these could be harvested led to the dawn of human agriculture.

Yet to call these imperfections assumes that there is some standard called “perfect” to aspire to. Certainly there are forms in nature that we find more aesthetically pleasing, but even those are affected by subjective biases. However, nature is less about perfection and more about adequacy. Does a given trait help an organism to live long enough to pass on its genes, and do the genes then carry that trait forward? Then it’s adequate.

We often think of “adequate” as “not really good enough.” We’re told that we need to be exceptional, outstanding, the best. Who celebrates second place, anyway? Yet nature is full of beings that aren’t necessarily number one, but who manage to get along in the world just fine. As Henry van Dyke said, “Use what talents you possess; the woods would be very silent if no birds sang here except those that sang best.”

People are a lot like that, too. If you look at any given trait, skill, competition, etc. there can only be one person who is the very best, and only a very few who can be considered elite. But that doesn’t mean everyone else has to pack up and go home. In high school I was basically the slowest runner on the track team thanks to undiagnosed asthma, but I got out there and gave it my best anyway. And now, at forty, I still get out to run when the weather’s good even though an eight minute mile is an impossibility for me. That still makes me a runner; I don’t doubt my status just because I’m not especially fast.

We also glorify pretty arbitrary standards of attractiveness, standards that shift and change according to culture and time. Most people aren’t models; most of us have little details like moles or blemishes or scars that keep us from being “perfect” (especially without cosmetics or Photoshop). Yet we’re still able to be a part of this world and make our contributions as we will, and most of us find relationships of some sort. We are each of us more or less adequate.

This isn’t a bad thing, not by far. So much is made about the (often arbitrary) best that often the rest feel like there’s no point in trying if someone else is better than we are. Which is sad, because something is still worth being or doing even if you haven’t specialized to the point of single focus. Adequacy also allows for a lot more variety. There’s not just one pinnacle to achieve, but a whole landscape of mountains, valleys, prairies and other unique places to explore. Each of these habitats is adequate for supporting the life forms that call it home.

I think we need to celebrate the adequate more. We need to stop putting so much pressure on ourselves and on each other to only shoot for the highest goals or states of being. Not only is it unrealistic, but it’s setting a lot of people up for failure, as that goal of perfection is a pretty tiny target to aim for. Humans, being animals, are messy biological systems that evolved to adequacy, and any statements of hierarchical value beyond that are largely artificial and generally do more harm than good.

On that note, we also need to stop looking at our little asymmetries and other quirks as “imperfections”. All that does is reinforce the idea that these variances are somehow bad. If you saw a blue jay whose left cheek stripe was a little thicker than the right one, you’d just see it as an interesting field mark, assuming you even noticed it at all. In the same way we need to be accepting of the ways in which we are all different, without judgment or malice. And we really, really need to be more forgiving of ourselves, even when (and especially when) we’re told we aren’t “perfect” somehow.

So the next time you feel self-conscious, or flawed, or just not good enough, look to nature. Having five points instead of six didn’t stop that buck from growing big enough to have a decent set of antlers; so what if he was a little uneven? Judge yourself as I would judge that deer: a perfectly adequate representation of his kind, and every bit as lovely as the rest.

Did you like this post? Help me keep writing by buying one of my books, some of my artwork, or becoming my Patron on Patreon!

[valiantsilver]

nobody asked for it but

Riftmakers AU: Chapter Two

Tw: Swearing, mild violence

————————————————————

Chapter Two: Girl, Alone

Chasing your megalomaniac older brother, Sophie reflected, was not a fun way to spend time. It got especially grating when you’d been doing for three years, and never got any closer to success.

Three years ago, she’d been 13. Anna has been 12. Kato had been 9. And Magnus... he’d been 19. Now, Magnus was 22, and Sophie wasn’t sure how old she and her younger siblings were. This insane chase had aged them more than three years should have.

It had also aged her mother, Jordana, and her step-father, Chris. Jordana’s face was lined. Chris’ jet hair was shot with grey. Sophie kept expecting to see grey in her own jet hair.

Kept expecting to see lines on her younger sister’s dark face.

More than being wearing, the chase was also lonely. For three years, Sophie had had no company except for her family - who she loved - but who could get on your nerves after a while. Her no-nonsense mother and sister were taking it worse than her, she knew, but she still suffered. Plus, her siblings still seemed so young (compared to her) and her parents so stressed, that she felt as though she had no one to confide.

So she kept her problems hidden.

Pretended to be strong.

For her family.

More than ever, Sophie wished for a friend. A peer. Someone she could tell her problems to without feeling like a burden. That, she reasoned, wasn’t too much to ask.

Then again, it was hard to make friends when you were constantly moving dimensions.

This realm was miserable. It always seemed to be raining, and all the ground had turned to mud. She was constantly up to her knees in it. And Sophie, being well over 6 foot, was not a small woman.

Crouched in a trench, Sophie had to keep peeking over the top. The plan was to ambush Magnus if and when he passed. Sophie didn’t have high hopes of its success. Anna and Jordana were crouched next to her, however, and she didn’t dare complain in front of them. They were strict, leader-types. Sophie was also a leader-type, but she liked to imagine she was more laid-back.

Jordana was also a tall woman, with thick, wavy brown hair, and a brown face. Her green eyes were so dark, they could’ve been black. Sophie was like a younger version of her save for her dark hair (and multiple piercings). Anna was also a mirror image of her mother, but younger and with piercing grey eyes.

Chris and Kato were hidden in a trench across from them. Sometimes, Sophie saw Chris’ pale face when she looked up. Chris had black hair and blue eyes, and these traits had passed on to Kato. Kato, being Chris’ son, was technically Sophie’s half-brother, but Sophie could only ever see him as a brother. After all, she’d never known her real father.

But that wasn’t really anyone’s fault.

Squelching footsteps drew Sophie out of her trance. She looked up. It was Magnus.

Sophie sighed, and stood up. Magnus didn’t even bother to look at her. He just stopped, and he sighed too. Around him, his family began clambering out of the trenches. No one spoke. There was no need to. Sophie wondered dully if her family felt the same sense of defeat as she did. After all, what made this time different to the others?

Jordana spoke first. “Magnus.”

He held up his hand to silence her. Sophie couldn’t even be bothered to feel mad at him. It was routine now.

“Do not talk to me.” Magnus said, plain as day, no longer bothering to use paltry excuses. “I will only talk to her.” He pointed to Anna.

Anna, a Riftmaker like him.

Anna stepped forward. To her credit, she mustered up the energy to look pissed. “You can’t talk to our mother like that.”

“She is not my mother.”

“Just because she isn’t a Riftmaker?”

“Yes.” He looked irritated. He always did. “I do not understand your love for these... normal people. They’re so... dull.”

“They’re my family.” Anna retorted, an edge of steel in her voice. “They’re yours too.”

Magnus regarded his family with a vacant stare. His mother. His sisters. His little half-brother. All of them weary from three years of stubbornly trying to bring him home. All of them praying for him to change, to go back to being the kind, caring older brother who he once was. All of them filled with a burning love for him that time could not extinguish. He looked at them and said, flatly, “This is not my family.”

Later, Sophie would be thankful he said that. It was enough to spark the anger inside her.

She charged.

Immediately, Magnus teleported. She knew he was behind her, and turned just in time to see Anna rugby tackle him, and the two disappeared as they fell. They reappeared 20 feet up, and Anna let go, disappeared, and materialised beside Sophie.

That move would’ve been enough for a normal person. It would have thrown them, and they wouldn’t be able to recover in time. But Magnus was not a normal person.

He didn’t even bother to teleport. He twisted in the air, and landed gracefully on his feet - or as gracefully as one can when landing in two feet of mud. He looked bored. That made Sophie feel angrier.

What Sophie hates most about her dickhead brother was how similar he looked to her father, based on the few photos she’d seen of him. A pallid, drawn face, and smart, shiny black hair - very different to Sophie’s own tangle. His eyes were the same piercing grey. He wore the same smart suits all the time. The only difference was his height, inherited from his mother. He towered even over Sophie.

Chris attempted to attack Magnus from behind. Magnus moves to the side, eyes still fixed on Anna, and Chris fell face first into the mud. Kato yelled “Dad!” and ran to help him, but Jordana stopped him with a stern “No!”. Kato was not to take part in the attack. He was too young, her mother ruled. Kato complained to Sophie that they needed all the help that they could get, but Sophie agreed with her mother. If Kato got hurt - if he died - he’d be the third brother she’d lost.

Now, Jordana screwed up her face in concerntration. The mud surrounding Magnus began to pull him down. If you could completely submerge a Riftmaker, they’d be stuck, unable to use their powers.

Of course, before they’re submerged, they can still teleport. So Magnus teleported.

He was closest to her. Sophie threw a punch. If it were anyone else, Magnus would’ve caught it, but he knew she was stronger than him. So, he teleported behind her instead, shoved her before she could adjust. She fell like Chris had, and found she couldn’t get up.

The rest of the battle - all fifteen seconds of it - was lost to Sophie as she struggled to pull herself up. The mud tried to suck her back down, and that was without Jordana manipulating it. When she finally pulled her face away, and got to her knees, Jordana and Anna has been taken down.

She couldn’t take him. Not on her own. Thirteen year old her would have tried anyway. But she new better now.

Magnus was preparing to open a rift to another dimension. In a kind of last act of defiance, Sophie yelled “Where are you going now?”

She hadn’t been expecting him to answer. He never did. But this time, he smirked and looked at her. And he said “I’m going to a realm you may have heard of. It’s called Ninjago.”

Sophie’s mouth fell open as he stepped through the hole he’d made in reality. By the tine he had gone, she’d scrambled to her feet, and her family were getting up around her. Kato waded towards them and grumbled “You should’ve let me help,”, but Sophie ignored him. Instead, she turned to her mother, who was managing to look dignified even covered in mud. “Did you hear what Magnus said?”

Jordana modded grimly, her mouth set in a thin line. “Yes. Ninjago.” She sighed, and regarded her family with an unusually apprehensive look. “It looks like he’s going home.”

————————————————————

So that’s it for chapter two! I’m hoping to have the third chapter up later today.

Please leave constructive criticism!

[dustedandsocial]

Music 2018 April: There’s too much music and it isn’t helping anyone. Please stop all music.

Rock, punk, post-punk, psych, etc. Also folk I guess?

Full-Lengths Bart De Paepe - Pagus Wasiae LP (Beyond Beyond Is Beyond) Blank Realm - Last Seen LP (Hobbies Galore) Blind Mans Band - Blind Mans Band CS [Orig. 2016] (Insula Jazz) Bridge of Flowers - Bridge of Flowers CS (Sloow Tapes) Bodies On Everest - A National Day Of Mourning CD (Third-I-Rex) Chris Cogburn, Ingebrigt Håker Flaten, Bob Hoffnar, Henry Kaiser - En Las Montañas de Excesos LP (Self Sabotage) Christian Kann - Tang® Under the Bridge... CS (Metaphysical Circuits) Chocolat Billy - Délicat déni LP (Kythibong / Les Potagers Natures) Convivial Cannibal Clan - Autosarcophagy CS (Ignorant Ear Tapes) COXNOX - COXNOX CD (Econore) Death by Delirium - Pushing up the Daisies CS (Wilhelm show me the Major Label) The Doozer ‎- Figurines LP (Feeding Tube) DLVRNC - DLVRNC (Self-Released) Faux Départ ‎- Au Pied Du Mur LP (Colilla / Doomtown) Flesh Narc - Songs of Reality CS (NULLZØNE) Great Saunites - Brown CD (Il Verso Del Cinghiale / Hypershape / Toten Schwan) Gnaw Their Tongues - Genocidal Majesty LP (Consouling Sounds) Headroom / Dire Wolves - Split CS (Pome Pome Tones) Holiday Inn - Torbido LP (Maple Death) Hospice - Hospice CS (Scavenger of Death) Itchy Bugger - Done One LP (Low Company) Jacob Yates - The Hare. The Moon. The Drone. LP (Optimo Music) Jesus Is My Son - Tout a une fin (même l'amour) CD (Cheap Satanism) King Dick - KDIII LP (King Dick) KTB - KTB II LP (Feeding Tube) Lewsberg - Lewsberg LP (Self-Released) Leverton Fox - I Am Zebra LP (Not Applicable) Litku Klemetti - Taika Tapahtuu LP (Luova) Locean - Object / Disco CS (Box) Maailmanloppu - Tuhon Koodi LP (Svart) Marc Ribot's Ceramic Dog - Yru Still Here CD (Yellowbird / Enja) Lonker See - One Eye Sees Red CD (Instant Classic) Makoto Kawabata • Richard Pinhas • Yoshida Tatsuya - Trax LP (Bam Balam) Mark Wynn - Damp Towels Stink Drama (Desert Mine) MÄSÄ - Viimesen päälle LP (Luova) Mr Sterile - Haters, Wreckers and other Friends CD (skirted) Ramble Tamble - Outlaw Overtones CS (Eiderdown) The Shna - Fairytape CS (Kitchen Leg) Sonic Death - Punks Against Mafia Vol. 1 (DTH Studios) Spost - Monkey Face LP (Self-Released) Stratocastors - Living Under The Johnny Vacances LP (Et Mon Cul C’est Du Tofu) Thee Agnes Muller - Le Bad CS (Degelite) The Submissives - Pining for a Boy CS (Egg Paper) Tommy Jay & The General - Florida Songs LP (Feeding Tube) Total Leatherette - For The Climax Of The Night LP (Mïlk) The Trendees - NIGHTMARE CITY (Self-Released) Vanta - Vanta II CS (Self-Released) Weasel Walter - Skhiizm CD (ugEXPLODE) Weeping Bong Band - Weeping Bong Band LP (Feeding Tube) Wombo - Staring At Trees CS (Sophomore Lounge) Yes Deer - Gloss LP (Abstract Tits) Ylayali - Pumpkin Patch CS / Picked Apart (Self-Released) Zëro - Ain't That Mayhem 2xLP (Ici d'Ailleurs)

Singles, EPs, Demos Basic Human - Cassette CS (Meatspin) Bodybags - Demo 2018 (Self-Released) Can Can Heads - Duo Exchange in 4´42 Minutes EP (Self-Released) Cerkkyu - Demo CS (MYDY / Overflöd / Pissed Off!) Crude - Drug Culture 12" (Farewell) Dauðyflin - Dauþiflin 7" EP (Iron Lung) Dick Whyte & Finn Johansson - What Kind Of Bird Am I 7" (Ilk Ither) Ecstasy - Ecstasy 7" EP (Digital Regress) Fatamorgana - Fatamorgana CS (Self-Released) Floating Skull - FROSTED MINOTAUR / SECULAR BUTCHER CS (Self-Released) Gen Pop - II 7" EP (Feel It) Hetze - Bedbugs (Self-Released) Jesus Is My Son - Désolé 7" (Lexi Disques) Kovaa Rasvaa - Pahan vaimon käsikirja 12" (Svart) Laurence Wasser - The Garden CS (Kitchen Leg) Life Fucker - Z - 12" (Static Age) Merlin Nova - Protect Your Flame EP (Blank Editions) Nandas - EP II (Toxic State) No Future - Demo CS (Televised Suicide) NoNoNo - Cutting Edge CD (Self-Released) Photogenic - Demo CS (Self-Released) Physique - Punk Life Is Shit 12" (Iron Lung) Primer Regimen - Ultimo Testamento 12" (Byllepest Distro) Punctï - Quartz Hour Shining Sphere (Self-Released) Pvnisher - Pvnishment Demonstration CS (Razored Raw) Rapid Tan - Golden Wonder EP (Self-Released) Sara Fuego - soundcloud demos Scarlatine - Tine EP (Self-released) Slab City - Regina Delle Streghe CS (Always Restrictions) Slant - Demo 2018 CS (Headcount / Pissed Off!) Skitklass - Kaos Och Förstörelse 4-låtars 7" EP (Hardcore Survives) Stagger - Thermobaeric Blues CS (Self-Released) Street Gurgler - Live on WRUW CS (Adamant Blasts / Pete Smokes Weed Tapes) Terebentina - O outro (Self-Released) XUX - XUX CS (Hobbies Galore) [pictured] WAMEKI - 72 Hours EP (Self-Released)

 Experimental, Avant-Garde, Free Jazz, etc

6majik9 - Ritual Zero / Monk Nun 2xCDr (chemical imbalance.) Ad`Absurdum & Strøm - Infest LP (Acoustic Desaster / Tonzonen) Adam Cadell - Bush Songs CS (Soft Abuse) Adderall Canyonly - The Limits of All Known Ice CS (Lighten Up Sounds) Aeolipile - Observational error CD (Foolproof Projects) AMK & WM Zarate - Embedded CS (Regional Bears) Amuleto - Misztériumok LP (Three꞉four) Aqueduct Ensemble - Improvisations on an Apricot LP (Last Resort) AmErIkAn TeEnAgEr - Bandcamp CS (Barreuh) Awkward Geisha & GX Jupitter-Larsen - Final Destination CS (Lurker Bias) Baldruin - Vergessene Träume LP (Ikuisuus) Bianca Scout -  __dislex-ia (Beatrice & Annie) Bella e Cadu Tenório - Vazios CS (QTV) Body Morph - The Three Mothers CS (Moon Myst Music) Brianna Kelly / Sympathy Pain - Split CS (Whited Sepulchre) Carlo Giustini - Sant'angelo CS (Purlieu Recordings) Chaos Echœs with Mats Gustafsson - Sustain LP (Utech) Chesterfield - Consuelo CD (Mikroton) Chow Mwng - Ah Alpine ! CDr (Self-Released) Church Shuttle - Natural Disaster 7'' (Soft Abuse) Columbus Duo - À Temps CD (Dead Sailor Muzic) Crazy Doberman - "Get Lost Pens Of Baldwin" Particle I & II CS (Fag Tapes) Dane Rousay - IMP-ENV 10'' (Colour8) Dead Voices on Air - Mirror Carrier CS (Format Noise) Dirk Wachtelaer, Jürgen De Blonde, Alec Ilyine, Gert De Meester - Tales From The Hellhole (Self-Released) Disposición Asoleada - Sigses Saturninos 7'' (Lexi Disques) Dwarfs of East Agouza - Rats Don’t Eat Synthesizers LP (Akuphone) Èlg - Vu Du Dôme LP (Editions Gravats) eRikm & Percussions de Strasbourg - Drum-Machines 2xLP (Percussions de Strasbourg) Fuck My WInter - Hic svnt leones CS (Jeunesse Cosmique) Jérôme Noetinger & Sec_ - La Cave Des Étendards CD (Mikroton) John Godbert - The Sealed Container CDr (Chocolate Monk) Kurt Liedwart & Petr Vrba - Punkt CD (Mikroton) kutin | kindlinger - Decomposition IV (Variations on Bulletproof Glass) 2xLP (Ventil) Lärmschutz - Divine Descent CS (No Index) Lao Dan 老丹 - 思維扭曲的行動體 Functioning Anomie CS (WV Sorcerer Productions) Les Horribles Travailleurs & Mechanical Ape - Collaborative Soundworks CS (Noir Age) Li Jianhong 李劍鴻 - 1969 CS (WV Sorcerer Productions) Louise Landes Levi - IKIRU or The Wanderer LP (Oaken Palace) Lucrecia Dalt - Anticlines LP (RVNG Intl.) Maria da Rocha - Beet Root & Other Stories CD (Shhpuma) Martín Escalante and Charlie Mumma - Escalante / Mumma CS (Sploosh) Me Donner - ÉÀ&! (Self-Released) Mei Zhiyong 梅志勇 / Ryosuke Kiyasu - 高円寺 Kōenji CS (WV Sorcerer Productions) Michael Foster / Ben Bennett / Jacob Wick - Glove Issues CD (Palliative) Mike Dilloway - Hay Bale Paws CD (Chocolate Monk) Nat Birchall - Cosmic Language LP (Jazzman) Neutrals - 0318 CS (Alien Passengers) Nick Hoffman - Salamander CS (Notice) La banane de Hakim - Q EP (Self-Released) Q'uq'umatz - Tepeu CS (WV Sorcerer Productions) Paulie Shankwank / Zawinul Cropse - Split CS (Post-Materialization) Red Brut - Red Brut LP (KRAAK) Richmond Avant Improv Collective - Communion / Il Delirio E La Mortalità Di Amore 2xCD (Arachnidiscs) Rob Michalchuk - Where Did You Learn To Fly CS / Thirty CS (Poor Little Music) Saboteuse - X CS (Crow Versus Crow) Sensual Spasmo - Lichhouse Drip Feed CS (Moon Myst Music) Simon Cummings - 間 (ma) CS (Crónica) Sparkle in Grey - The Bones of Quietness CD (Grey Sparkle) The Spiders - Bit Offset 2xCS (chemical imbalance.) STARBIRTHED - The Dweller On the Threshold CS (Flower Room) Tasos Stamou - Musique con Crète LP (Discrepant) Tatras / Oostanaula - Split CS (Park 70) Thembi Soddell - Love Songs CD (Room40) Threes And Will / Deludium Skies - Kraaipan / From The Dirt Arose The Lesser King CD (Xtelyon) Tomaga - Music for Visual Disorders LP (meakusma) Torben Snekkestad, Agusti Fernandez, Barry Guy - Louisiana Variations CD (Fundacja Słuchaj) VA - 2018 Balkan Experimental Survey - Post Industrial Culture Series (Unexplained Sounds Group) VA - New Modernism (Unexplained Sounds Group) VA - Solidarity Is Our Weapon Against All Prisons (Anarchist Black Cross Benefit) 2xCS (Totes Format) Uton - Sax On, Sax Off CS (Eiderdown) Vanessa Amara - Manos LP (Posh Isolation) Wukir Suryadi - Atas Nama Bunyi /  In The Name Of Sound 2008 EP (Self-Released) Zohastre - Pan And The Master Pipers LP (S.K Records)

Reissues, Archival

A New Personality - A New Personality 1981-84 (No Label) Cardiacs - The Seaside (Original Edition) [Orig. 1983, Remastered] (The Alphabet Business Concern) Dino J.A. Deane - For Leena 2xLP [Rec. 1991-1998] (Lullabies For Insomniacs) Expo 70 - Mother Universe Has Birthed Her Last Cosmos 2xCD [Rec. 2008-2010] (Zoharum) Goz Of Kermeur - Greatest Hits 2xLP [Rec. 1992-1996] (Jelodanti / Et Mon Cul C'est Du Tofu / Degelite) Heldon - Electronique Guerilla LP / Heldon II LP [Orig. 1974, 1975] (Bureau B) Nexda - Words & Numbers LP [Rec. 1982] (Emotional Rescue / Blowpipe / Mannnequin) Nocturnal Projections - Complete Studio Recordings LP / Inmates In Images LP [Rec. 1981-1983] (Dais) No Trend - You Deserve Your Life. LP [Rec. 1983] (Digital Regress, 2018) Norgez Bank - Samfunnets tjenera LP [Rec. 1980-1982] (Fucking North Pole) Onyx - Complete Works 1981-1983 LP (MIND Records) Peggy Lee & Dylan van der Schyff - These Are Our Shoes [Orig. 1998] (WhirrbooM!) Pellethead - The Best of a Bad Bunch LP [Rec. 1992-2017] (GNUinc) PRRRL JAM - Prrrl Jam 2xCS [Orig. 2014, Expanded] (Grog Pappy) Residents - The W⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎ B⁎⁎⁎ Album LP [Rec. 1971]͙͙ (New Ralph Too) Shatterbox - Strung Out On The Line LP [Orig. 1981] (Dig! Records) Sun Ra - God Is More Than Love Can Ever Be LP [Orig. 1979, Remastered] (Cosmic Myth) Tunnelrunners - Neath Abbey Road CD [Rec. 1980-1982] (Only Fit For The Bin) Unknown Artist - Early Sampling Puzzle, Potentially Recorded During The Late 1980′s LP (Delodio) Unovidual - Synthetic Solitude CS [Rec. 1983-1986] (Kontakt)

Electronic

AQXDM - Aegis 12'' (Bedouin) Astrid Sonne - Human Lines LP (Escho) Beat Detectives - Rhythms & Edits Volume 1 CS (Altered States) Blue Nude - Blue Nude CS (Puff Boys) burnet207 - forever CD (Jacktone) C_C - Brumas, Nieblas, Neblinas CS (Zamzam) Chloé - Recall Remixes 12'' (Lumière Noire) Curses - Pedal To The Metal And Don't Look Back 12'' (Bordello A Parigi) CVN - Kaisou CS (Altered States) Cyclist - Alabaster Thrones 12'' (100% Silk) Eomac - Reconnect LP (Eotrax) Garland - Preludes #1 LP (Lullabies For Insomniacs) House Of Kenzo - Bonfires Of Urbanity CS (Ascetic House) Hugo Jay - Tape Two LP (Coastal Haze) Hysteric - In The Moonlight 12'' (Violette Szabo) Jack Patterson - Snapping The Golden Thread CS (Archive) Kiwi - Mountains Of Dew 12'' (Disco Halal) Lauren Tosswill - My Home In The Year 12'' (Enmossed) Low Jack - Riddims du Lieu-dit LP (Editions Gravats) Mateis e. aqir - Geography of Nowhere 12'' (Jungle Gym) Mind Safari - The Dream Manipulator CS (Jacktone) Modified Man - Modifications꞉ Set 2 LP (Albert’s Favourites) Mrs Dink - The Norma Meetings EP (Run On Recordings) NN* - Cave Of The Birdbath King CS (Self-Released) Opal Beau - Open Window CS (Altered States) Overloper - Aposynthesis 12'' (Pater Noster) Piotr Połoz - Shameful Hatred CDr (Mik.Musik.!.) PSYCHOPOP - The Devil's Drums and the Angelic Electronics CS (HIT+RUN) Raquin - Ariclone CS (Janushoved) Ssaliva - WYIN 12'' (Collapsing Market) Somaticae - Planètes De Glace CS (ABRecords) VA - HU-MR96 3x12'' (MISTRESS Recordings) VA - Metallurgic 12'' (Metallurgic) VA - NOWHERE01 (Something Happening Somewhere) VA - One Instrument Volume 01 LP (One Instrument)

[jclarkeelliott]

Siem Reaping

It was hot, and almost immediately the humidity started to gnaw at my skin as we left the plane and walked across the tarmac. Siem Reap felt like something you would stumble across after hiking some overgrown path through an old wilderness, only to find this hidden vale behind thorny vines and a stone door. The airport was quaint yet modern, and immigration only took half an hour. Five or six men sat side by side like some bureaucratic panel, stamping and stapling our passports in symphonic unison. At the end was a silent man who held up each passport for us to see and collect, and all the passengers huddled together in the same vulnerable state watching our most cherished possession being treated like a bingo number. I grabbed mine and hurried out.

My tuk-tuk driver was waiting for me, and though I was late he didn’t seem too vexed.

“Hello, I am Keo.”

Keo and I made small talk as we made our way to his bike, and though he seemed genuine enough, the subject quickly changed to business as he offered to drive me around the temples the next day. He seemed nice enough, so I accepted.

The people here are kind and strange. They live in the shell of their ancestors’ greatest masterpieces, like hermit crabs nestled in jade wares. Driving through the city and countryside to Angkor Wat, the trash heaps and sewage streams are the relics of modernity. The narrow, sand-laden streets feed into main avenues like some ancient drainage basin, and each is lined with food carts and tuk-tuks both bustling and abandoned. Children on bicycles scream to one another as motorbikes and Lexuses weave between them. Chickens pick through garbage along the road while stray dogs stare vacantly at the world passing by. I clumsily greeted and thanked street vendors with hands together and a slight bow, though they seemed to appreciate my attempt at Sampeah.  

Angkor Wat’s redented towers peered over the exterior walls as I crossed its moat, and I felt the world slowly dissolve around me as I approached the perimeter wall. The hordes of tourists faded into shadows as I traced the low relief carvings that cover almost every wall in the temple. Even the malaise of living in Korea for another year peeled away as I took in all the images around me. Depictions of mythical battles are juxtaposed with bullet holes from firefights between Khmer Rouge and Vietnamese soldiers, while images of demon armies are mirrored by ignorant visitors trampling hallowed ground. Resting on a block of sandstone, I watched as Cambodians fluent in Korean, Chinese, French, English, German, and Japanese lead tours through the passageways of the temple. I made my way to Bayon.

Bayon lies within the borders of Angkor Thom, the last capital of the Khmer empire. The entrance gate is only big enough to fit one tuk-tuk at a time, and as we waited for vehicles leaving the complex to pass by, I wondered if it was cosmic retribution from the ancients to inconvenience future tourists. It was much quieter here, and as I walked through the entrance an air of serenity embraced me. The sculpted faces that adorn this temple seem to rise from below the rock in the same way that water briefly envelopes your hand as you pull it up through the surface.  The halls here are more in tune with the shadows than the sun, and the little light that seeped in only added to its riddles. As I climbed to the top, a Chinese tourist threw her trash on the ground, though her Cambodian tour guide collected it for her,

“There is a bin just outside.”

Humans don’t deserve each other.

In the courtyard I watched some monks help an elderly woman down the stairs, though they are usually forbidden from touching the opposite sex. After they disappeared, I left for Ta Keo and Ta Prohm.

Ta Keo is more or less a pyramid compared to the other temples, and its greatest offering was the view from its peak. I climbed the stairs as passing tourists made small talk,

“How’s the view from the top?”

“Same as everywhere. Just Jungle”

Just jungle.

I found a quiet ledge and rested in the shade of the roof. Although the jungle seemed to offer little insight into the history and significance of the structure I sat on, I imagined some confused 26-year-old Khmer man sitting in the same place a thousand years before, pondering the same things. The sun sank a bit more, and Ta Prohm beckoned me.

Ta Prohm is surrounded by a lush forest that doesn’t end at the perimeter wall. The trees are slowly consuming the temple, and the thick roots easily ravage the stone structures that may have one time kept nature at bay. I sat on one of the roots jutting from the wall and watched as hundreds of invaders conquered Ta Prohm with selfie sticks and tenacious mediocrity. If a picture steals part of your soul, what do millions of them steal from a place? How many apparitions of Pol Pot’s slaughter linger translucently in the background?

As I made my final rounds at Ta Prohm, I surmised what husks of our civilization will still stand a thousand years from now, and I wondered if the intrigue of monuments built by a mysterious people who lived without electricity, or modern technology, could be matched by those built by a society obsessed with documenting even the most mundane aspects of life.

What will be my enduring obelisk? Can I create a work of art as transcendent as a Khmer bas-relief of apsaras, or as tragically finite as mortarless sandstone walls pierced by the ligaments of a jungle? Knowing I would soon leave Cambodia, I pressed my face into the wall until the grit of the sand reached the skin beneath my thin crimson beard, as if I could somehow impress upon myself even a molecule of the raw excellence before me with the dust of its skin. I smelled the rot of the forest floor as the heat from my face seeped into the depths of the stone, and for a moment my heart quivered with a yearning for everything, its ripple reaching to the tines of my soul like the tremors of an incessant yawn.

[gaypersonalscouple03]

Gay best smooch love in bedroom Trumann

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