#chekhovs wednesday

[thechekhov]

I think we may have accidentally adopted an anteater.

[werewolf-transgenderism]

just found out about 14th-century fabliau "Le Chevalier Qui Fist Parler les Cons" nobody talk to me

[inthewitchesstew]

My book recs

☆Mostly classics but a few more modern ones in there too!! Make sure to check warnings for any books you read ☆

1. The Virgin Suicides - Jeffrey Eugenides

2. 1984 - George Orwell

3. If We Were Villains - M.L Rio

4. Animal farm - George Orwell

5. Dracula - Bram Stoker

6. Frankenstein - Mary Shelley

7. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoevsky

8. Notes From the Underground - Fyodor Dostoevsky

9. Dante's Divine Comedy - Dante Alighieri

10. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

11. Ariel - Sylvia Plath

12. The Collected Poems of Sylvia Plath - Sylvia Plath

13. The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath - Sylvia Plath

14. Moby Dick - Herman Melville

15. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper lee

16. Hamlet - William Shakespeare

17. Macbeth - William Shakespeare

18. The Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoevsky

19. The Devils - Fyodor Dostoevsky

20. The Idiot - Fyodor Dostoevsky

21. A Nervous Breakdown - Anton Chekhov

22. Nausea - Jean-Paul Sartre

23. The Wind in The Willows - Kenneth Grahame

24. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë

25. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

26. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood

27. Metamorphosis - Franz Kafka

28. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austin

29. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

30. Emma - Jane Austen

31. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald

32. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

33. The Odyssey - Homer

34. To The Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf

35. The Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas

36. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen

37. A Little Life - Hanya Yanagihara

38. The Trial - Franz kafka

39. My Year of Rest and Relaxation - Ottessa Moshfegh

40. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert

41. The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt

42. Romeo and Juliet - William Shakespeare

43. Fahrenheit 451 - Ray Bradbury

44. Selected Stories - Alice Munro

45. American Psycho - Bret Easton Ellis

46. Normal People - Sally Rooney

47. Existentialism is a Humanism - Jean-Paul Sartre

48. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley

49. Persuasion - Jane Austen

50. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

51. The Death of The Heart - Elizabeth Bowen

52. The Iliad - Homer

53. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest - Ken Kesey

54. The Catcher in the Rye - J.D Salinger

55. The Outsiders - S.E Hinton

56. The Chrysalids - John Wyndham

57. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller

58. Middlemarch - George Eliot

59. Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy

60. Meditations - Marcus Aurelius

61. Beyond Good and Evil - Friedrich Nietzsche

62. The Stranger - Albert Camus

63. The Republic - Plato

64. Letters From a Stoic - Seneca

65. Man’s Search For Meaning - Viktor E. Frankl

66. The Myth of Sisyphus - Albert Camus

67. Bunny - Mona Awad

68. Belladonna - Anbara Salam

69. The Yellow Wallpaper - Charlotte Perkins Gilman

70. My Life Had Stood a Loaded Gun - Emily Dickinson

71. How We Weep and Laugh at the Same Thing - Michel de Montaigne

72. The Telltale Heart - Edgar Allen Poe

73. The Death of Ivan Ilych - Leo Tolstoy

74. Come Close - Sappho

75. The Fall of Icarus - Ovid

76. Tender Is the Flesh - Agustina Bazterrica

77. Cassandra - Christa Wolf

78. Forbidden Notebook - Alba de Céspedes

79. Girl, Interrupted - Susanna Kaysen

80. Carrie - Stephen King

81. Mrs. S - K Patrick

82. Sunburn - Chloe Michelle Howarth

83. Perfume - Patrick Suskind

84. After Dark - Haruki Murakami

85. Kafka on the Shore - Haruki Murakami

86. No Longer Human - Osamu Dazai

87. Wednesday's Child - Yiyun Li

88. My Husband - Maud Ventura

89. All Down Darkness Wide - Sean Hewitt

90. Norwegian Wood - Haruki Murakami

91. The Waves - Virginia Woolf

92. The Talented Mr Ripley - Patricia Highsmith

93. We Have Always Lived in the Castle - Shirley Jackson

94. For Whom the Bell Tolls - Ernest Hemingway

95. Journey Into the Past - Stefan Zweig

96. Outline - Rachel Cusk

97. Chess Story - Stephen Zweig

98. Diary of a Madman - Nikolai Gogol

99. A Very Easy Death - Simone De Beauvoir

100. A Writer's Diary - Virginia Woolf

Enjoy!!

[di-42]

June's joyful fictions

I can't believe June is over and I've managed to read so few fictions, what with work and trying to focus on writing my own. Few, but really, really good! Here they are! As usual tagging the writers whose tumblr username I know. Spread the love!

WIPs:

The Last Angel by @bellisima-writes.

Amazing canon divergent fiction where Crowley and Aziraphale were never assigned to earth, armageddon happened and hell won the war. There are ok fictions, there are good fictions, there are excellent fictions, and there are those fiction where you simply can't believe this is not the author's actual job. Like, they do something else in life, as a day job? And then have the audacity to write like this? This story is great, the world the writer creates is incredibly believable, the characterisation is spot on, but that's not all. You read and you want more and you want to be in on it, and you can't wait to know. You won't regret reading this story. Rated E and updated every Wednesday.

Complete stories:

My Heart Was Always Yours by @addledmongoose.

Another incredible work by one of my favourite fiction writers. I was so impatient for Fridays to come so I could lose myself in the two new chapters of this fiction and I'm going to miss the Crowley and Aziraphale in this story so, so much. Canon divergent universe where Aziraphale and Crowley don't meet until present day. Each of them thinks the other is human and each of them wants to prevent the apocalypse. The plot of this story is incredible and moves at a fast pace, but the main characters are the real treat. Their chemistry is incredibly well written, the humour and wit are spot on and you will fall in love with them. Rated M.

On The Same Page by Chekhov.

Thank you so much @dashuntsel for recommending this great fiction! It's a human AU where Aziraphale and Crowley are both writers. Aziraphale writes Christian books, Crowley writes adult books and they help each other out with their writing. Until they have to pretend to be married. This was such a good read, I really couldn't put it down. It's almost exclusively narrated in Aziraphale's POV but the mutual pining is evident and the build up to them resolving their issues is so bittersweet and deep and just lovely. There is a happy ending, don't worry. And the side story will really... aargghh, I won't spoil it for you, just read it. Rated E.

Series:

Whickber Street Traders And Shopkeepers Association Daily Observations by @waitingtobebroken

This series was incredibly funny and entertaining! The shopkeepers of Whickber street come up when their theories about the mysterious friend of the bookseller. Each story of the series is told from one of the shopkeepers' POV. The last story is Crowley setting the records straight and it only makes sense if read last, but the order you read the others doesn't matter. The last story is also the one dearest to my heart in the whole series. Prepare to fall in love with Mutt.

One shot:

Far Too Much In Love To See by imperiousphasmid

Oh, the fluff and the sweetness of the fiction! Just what I needed! Crowley and Aziraphale live happily as a couple in the South Downs, but sometimes go to the bookshop for a day. Every time they go the same customer visits the bookshop. Jealous Aziraphale is simply adorable. Rated teen and up.

Hope you enjoy these wonderful stories as much as I did!

[jgroffdaily]

After more than 30 years in Los Angeles, Alfred Molina is enjoying his newly minted status as an Upper West Sider.

“My wife and I have bought an apartment here, and we’re slowly transitioning to New York,” he said last month at Lincoln Center Theater before a rehearsal for the Chekhov classic “Uncle Vanya,” which opens on Broadway on Wednesday.

Molina, who is originally from London, shared his favorite walk in New York, why he loves the subway, and a Jonathan Groff-inspired song lyric that he came up with seemingly on the spot. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.

6

Jonathan Groff

A friend for life who introduced me to my wife. Now there’s a lyric for you! I’ve seen him three times in “Merrily We Roll Along,” and each time he was brilliant.

[brakingpoint]

18, 22

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene. i want you all to know that i fully intend on doing a free for all director's commentary session after i'm done with rep lol bc i love talking about this fic SO much. but i'm really proud of this passage from chapter 11 in particular:

The week continues to spiral along the same relentless trajectory. They visit the market on Tuesday more for the atmosphere than anything else seeing as they have nowhere to cook at the hotel, and Aiden catches Devon checking his phone one too many times beside a fruit stall and takes his hand, manually guiding it back into his own pocket.

“Just keep the ringer on,” he says, seemingly unaware of how close his hand is skirting to Devon’s crotch. Devon begs his body not to respond accordingly. “They’ll call you. You’ll know when they do. But you’re on holiday, okay? Stop worrying about it.”

i really wanted to keep making references to devon keeping the ringer on his phone bc it's so pivotal in the next chapter but i also wanted the reader to be blindsided by the twist. so it was a very delicate balancing act of putting the chekhov's ringtone work in there while not making it too obvious that this would come back to bite them. i hope i managed this by putting most of the attention on devon trying so so hard not to get a boner

At the same time they both spot someone staring, phone camera trained on the two of them, and Aiden dutifully leans forward and gives Devon a sweet, chaste peck on the lips.

all through the fic there's this conflict from aiden where he is the most enthusiastic to go along with the PR aspect of the relatonship but thinking it's all a PR thing is what drives him to break up with devon. let's be honest it's because he knows he's helping devon out of love but he has absolutely no clue that those feelings are reciprocated

That night, they fall asleep separately, and Devon wakes up in the middle of the night with his head on Aiden’s chest and Aiden’s hands weaving slow, careful patterns through his hair.

He slips out of bed, panicked, and Aiden, half asleep, does not stir.

i'll be honest i'm not sure how aiden can be half asleep and also not stir but i've posted the chapter now. whoops

Devon makes his way out onto the terrace and watches the sea glistening ink-black before him, the tiniest waves lapping towards the shoreline and echoing the sudden sensation that he’s being pulled, one tiny repeated motion at a time, towards something dark and hopelessly inevitable.

He wonders, as he turns and crawls back into bed, if this is how it would feel to drive a race you know would kill you, watching the lap count tick down and knowing, every time you skim past the same barrier, that one of these times it will catch you in your tracks, crushing your organs together and forcing the air from your lungs in one final, strangled cry.

you might notice that i use a lot of racing and especially crash metaphors in this fic. they're all over the place. part of that was absolutely unapologetic foreshadowing for chapter 13 (in all honesty i wish i'd tied it together with this paragraph a little more strongly by really honing in on t14 as a point of focus for devon during the race!) but a big part of it is also that extremely specific metaphors are a quintessential feature of my writing style and when i'm writing third person limited pov i like to shape them around the narrator's own worldview/frame of knowledge; devon has been living and breathing racing since he was teeny tiny so it makes sense that this would be his first point of comparison for any especially strong emotions.

one part where i deviate from this and use my own lived experience is the stage kissing metaphor in chapter 5. imogen is a drama student almost entirely to give devon a reason to have that idea in his head because i was so desperate to use it.

On Wednesday, they visit the butterfly museum.

100% one of the most deliberately pretentious and Author-y things i have ever written. the stark contrast between the run on sentence of the previous paragraph and the brevity of this one. the triple meaning of the mundanity of their activity vs how apparently twee it is in comparison to devon's spiralling thoughts vs the persistent morbid undercurrent bc they are still spending their time looking at thousands of dead specimens of these beautiful, fragile, ephemeral creatures. when i wrote this paragraph i was right back in my gcse english class trying to nail every one of my assessment criteria. 22. Have you cried while writing a fic? i've not cried while writing but i'll tell you i had a really close call like two days after publishing chapter 12 when i went to work and perfect strangers came on the shop radio

[willstafford]

The Axeman Cometh

THE CHERRY ORCHARD The Bear Pit Theatre, Stratford upon Avon, Wednesday 25th October 2023 Now, I enjoy a good Chekhov as much as the next man, but it can be difficult for a production to hit the right tone – especially with this, his final masterpiece, which first appeared in 1904.  A once-rich family and their retainers have to sell up the ancestral estate, due to societal change (no more…

[ta9rboost]

A hommage to an old me, and all the mes out the there... : The First Chapter From the Unknown: Like every Wednesday night, he put his beer bottle on his wooden table, few choco bons and chips next to it, and as usual turned Youtube videos on, watched half of it then put it on mute, presence of images is enough to him, he opened the window to smoke, to cool off his heart maybe, it was burning, his heart is heavy, knees weak arms are heavy ... nanana hahaha ok going back.. he sat at the end of his bed, fixed his cotton, pocket-less, sleeping pyjama shorts and scratched his balls, he did it more than once as if he fears their disappearance... he lit his splif, and gazed at the other side of the street through that vast window, ideas where crowding in his head, going through all states of matter, solid to liquid to air and even to smoke...yet he was able to catch none. One idea though was scrolling, falling and rolling again like a snowball... hits his skull walls and explodes, in an infinite loop, like a bootstrap. A question that expands as a horny Dindong, grows to become the mountain himself (not the one from game of thrones).... Why Am I.. why Am I lonely? he moved his lips slightly, silently and repeated, why am I alone? Laughed and lowered his voice as if he was ashamed of it and asked again. "Why?..". Spoke distinctive again "Ahh.. loneliness is fucking me, hitting me and splitting me like Moses split the Black Sea.." he moved his eyes, a quick.. yet endless look at his bed, around corners of his room to his bed again.. he thought of all people that sat on it, their faces, dreams, some of their names, their screams and especially their moans.. out of the blue, all smells of their perfume attacked his nose, as if the cosmos wants him to relive these memories with every sens of his being, I mean it was mostly Sephora's trendy shit from Armani and all these empires but whatever.. he saw it, women were crowded on that poor bed, some of them even started falling down, getting hurt.... #shortstory #shortstorywriter #antoinechekhov #antonechekhov #chekov #chekhov #blog #void #voidmemes #7wibachtarta7 https://www.instagram.com/p/CoIzpVVNX8C/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[eonars]

On Wednesday night my dad was like share yr location I wanna see how the traffic is on your way back and when u hit the toll road so I know when ur close to getting home and I had to figure out all the location sharing shit bc I'd never done it on this phone before and THEN later on that same evening I had to quickly and smoothly turn my live location on before having a budget 50 shades of grey momence in an early 2000s corolla parked in the dirt next to the beach and I was so high during the second bit I was like omg.....chekhovs gun.....this was soooooo foreshadowed earlier in the plot of today.......

[plushypluto]

[daechwitatamic]

Chapter 9: Really Sure || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: What Was Hidden (Masterpost)

Rating: explicit, minors DNI pls

Genre: college!au, angst, eventual smut, strangers -> friends -> lovers -> idiots -> lovers

Pairings: Taehyung x female reader, MYG x OC

Summary:  This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You’re assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg’s The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there’s a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one’s “true self” versus one’s “shown self”, darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

//

In which Taehyung takes you on an actual date.

Chapter Warnings: language, kissing, groping, explicit sex including: fingering, unprotected sex with bc (this is fiction pls be safe in ur real lives!), penetrative sex, consent king Kim Taehyung

Note: I wanted to take a second to seriously shout out Pauli (@/kookstempo - if I tag her the post stops showing up in searched tags bc tumblr is the worst platform to exist) for her help with this chapter. My brain is full of angst and longing so when I get to these happy scenes, I tend to draw a blank. The entire Christmas festival is due to her - she talked me through every single moment and came up with a lot of the ideas in the first place. If anything you see is sweet, fluffy, or makes you feel warm and fuzzy…. credit her.

Second note…… this was my first time writing smut, ever! It was challenging and honestly a little scary so pls read with forgiving eyes!

Word Count: 5k

I saw the sun and thought I saw what was hidden The Ghost Sonata | Scene III August Strindberg

Chapter 9: Really Sure

Wednesday, December 12th

At tutoring on Wednesday morning, Taehyung works on his The Cherry Orchard paper.

“I think the easiest theme is the one about societal upheaval and accepting change,” you tell him. “You can fill pages with that, no problem.”

Taehyung considers this, tapping his fingers against his lips. “I was thinking about the pattern I see with love,” he tells you.

You give him a look and he smiles your favorite smile, the one when you catch him at something, the one that starts with a flash of uncertainty and then it grows sideways from one corner to the other, like he’s relieved that you find him funny. 

“Seriously,” he insists. “You said to look for patterns. Ravensky’s all hung up on her dude in Paris, Barbara’s waiting for a proposal, Dunyasha is trying to get with what’s-his-face -.”

“Yasha,” you supply. Taehyung snaps his finger and points at you, grateful. 

“Also the guy,” he continues, referring to the character Peter. “He thinks he’s above feelings, and love, but he’s hot for Anya.”

“So what’s the theme?” you press him. “Their stories and situations are all different. What’s the connection, or message?”

He frowns. “That love comes for everyone, like it or not?”

You frown back. “I don’t think I agree with that as a general statement, but if you think you can provide enough textual evidence to support it, be my guest.”

“You’re Peter,” he tells you, giving you an amused look.

“Does that make you Anya?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

He laughs. “You’re right, now it’s weird.”

“Besides,” you say, a little defensively, “I don’t think I’m above feelings. Or love.”

“You just want to pretend you are for a minute, because it feels safer,” he says.

“Alright, that’s enough Chekhov for you today,” you joke, but you’re unsettled. Taehyung sees through you - he has from the beginning - and it’s something you’ve never experienced before, not with anyone.

“That’s wasn’t a shot at you,” he tries to explain. “That was kind of a… ‘universal you’ thing. We all do that.”

You’re grateful he’s letting you off the hook, but now he’s got you thinking about it. “After you’ve been hurt, it’s hard not to.”

“That’s true,” he says graciously. You have a feeling you could change the subject now, but something in you presses on.

“Have you?” you ask cautiously.

“Which part?” he says, setting down his book and looking at you. “Been in love? Been hurt? Tried to pretend it wouldn’t happen again?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He shrugs. “All three.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, meaning it.

“That’s life,” he says. “You get up and you try again.”

“That’s a very healthy outlook,” you observe. “Not everyone has that strength.”

He gives you a smug, knowing look. “That was a very nice compliment.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, yeah, you’re welcome.”

He glances at his phone. “Three minutes left,” he informs you.

“Okay,” you say. “You’re good on the paper? Do you think you can have some of it done before our session tomorrow night?”

He smirks at you. “As long as someone doesn’t distract me too much later.”

You roll your eyes, again. “I’ll stay on campus tonight, then.”

He pouts. “That is not the response I was going for.”

“Sorry,” you tell him. “I have a paper to write, though. I really do need to stay on campus.”

“Fine,” he says, still mostly pouting. “Hey, do you have plans for Saturday night yet?” There’s something in his tone that you can’t name.

You think about it. “No, I don’t think so,” you decide. “Are you guys having a party?”

“I’m not sure what the rest of the guys are doing,” he says, “but I had an idea for you and me.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh, you did, huh?”

He gives you that smile again, the one that grows. “I was thinking I could take you to the Christmas festival in town?”

Your whole body feels suddenly warm. You’ve loved hanging out with Taehyung; you’ve loved the deep talks you’ve had, the easy way you can joke with each other, the fluttering in your chest when he smiles at you. But until now it’s been… unnamed. Casual. Safe.

“Okay,” you say, even though your stomach is in knots. What you don’t want is to hurt his feelings over nothing, over your own silly fears.

“Yeah?” he asks, perking up. “That fancy hot chocolate place will have a food truck there that night. We can just walk around, check out the stalls, talk…”

This makes you smile. “Okay, fancy hot chocolate sounds really good,” you admit.“ Okay then,” he smiles, packing up his laptop, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. “Then it’s a date.”

Saturday, December 15th

You agonize over what to wear, a fact that is not lost on your roommates. You want to look cute as hell but you also don’t want to freeze. 

“I vote thick tights under a skirt or dress,” Bridget offers. 

“That would look cute with the boots,” Kiko agrees. 

You flop backwards on your bed in defeat. “I can’t do this. I’m tagging you in, Bridg. Go be cute and charming in my place.”

“How is this any different from going to hang out at the house?” Bridget asks. “You don’t freak out over that.” 

“It’s very different,” you insist. “There’s all this pressure.”

She purses her lips at you, looking annoyed. “Because he’s telling you he expects it to be absolutely perfect, with choirs of angels singing and wedding bells in the distance?”

You frown. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.”

She points at you. “Then it’s all internal. You’re putting the pressure on yourself. And that means you have the power to stop it.”

You and Kiko exchange a glance, and Bridget presses on, all worked up.

“It’s a date, it’s one night. Your future doesn’t hang in the fucking balance, so lighten up.”

“She’s scolding me,” you complain to Kiko.

“She’s right though,” Kiko says. “Where was all this knowledge when I was panicking over Yoongi?”

“We didn’t know you were panicking,” Bridget points out flatly.

“I definitely didn’t,” you agree. 

“I thought it was pretty obvious,” she says, voice small. 

You shake your head. “You can’t expect people to know how you’re feeling or what you’re thinking if you don’t tell them,” you say gently.

She goes silent, lips thin.

Bridget is looking at you.

–

When Taehyung picks you up after dinner, he’s got Christmas music playing in the car. 

“Setting the mood, huh?” you ask with a smile.

“I heard you like Christmas,” he says, giving you a sly sideways smile.

That’s something you’ve really learned about Taehyung - that guy pays attention. He may not seem like he’s listening, but he is, and he’s retaining information. When had you mentioned liking the Christmas season? You try to remember. You’d said it once, to Kiko, at the bar a week ago.

After parking, you walk side by side towards the entrance. The whole block is barricaded so cars can’t come up or down, and people walk freely down the street. The street is practically ablaze with strings of lights, and they continue into the adjacent park. At the end of the block, a small stage has been erected, and a trio of people are singing indie covers of Christmas songs. 

Taehyung leads the way to a semi-circle of food trucks and stands at the end of the longest line. 

“I believe gourmet hot chocolate was promised,” he tells you.

“It was,” you say seriously. You try to stand on your tiptoes to see the truck’s menu board. Taehyung pokes your arm to get your attention and hands you his phone, where he’s pulled up the menu himself.

“Oh,” you say, taking it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, looking down at you. You decide on peppermint and pass the phone back to him.

“I’m thinking salted caramel,” he says, eyeing the screen.

“I was thinking about that one,” you tell him. “It sounds amazing.”

The line moves slowly, and you find yourself shivering slightly, since you’re just standing still, not walking.

“Are you cold?” Taehyung asks you, glancing over. It reminds you of the night at the trail, the first time you’d kissed.

“No,” you lie.

He makes a face, clearly onto you. “You’re shivering,” he says flatly. 

“I’ll be fine once we start walking,” you say, feeling defensive.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head good-naturedly and reaches an arm around you, pulling you closer. He is warm. He rubs his hand up and down your upper arm, trying to dispel the goosebumps.

When you reach the front of the line, Taehyung buys your drinks and the two of you head towards the park, where there are giant light displays. People mill around you in both directions - large families with a bunch of kids, other couples like you, even some people who seem to be enjoying the displays in solitude. 

The displays are huge, so tall, depicting so many different things, all so bright and colorful. Lights adorn the trees, wrapped around the trunks and up into the branches. Where the trees reach across the walking path, overhanging the cement, it feels like you’re in a tunnel of red and gold lights. Off the path, strings of lights are twisted and tied to form trains, dinosaurs, beach scenes, and of course, lots of Santa and reindeer. You and Taehyung meander down the concrete path, following the flow of foot-traffic, stopping at each display to admire it.

You stop to admire a display whose lights flicker and move in time with music playing over speakers above you. It’s so bright and beautiful, but you find yourself turning to look at Taehyung; his face shines in the glow of the lights, blues and greens moving across his face just to be replaced with gold and white. All those sly glances and careful faces are gone - his expression is just open, honest, delighted. A tiny smile rests on his lips as he watches and listens. Something swells in your chest - you feel like you could touch the spot it blooms from, right above your diaphragm. It makes you want to be closer to him, part of his infectious joy.

You reach over, your fingers finding the side of his hand. He turns his wrist and takes your hand without looking, fingers lacing with yours. He gives it a tiny squeeze and says, “Look, they have that dragon up there breathing fire!”

And then he’s pulling you along, eager, already grinning.

–

As the path through the park leads you back to the street, Taehyung leads you by the hand to the side of the street lined with vendors and stalls. You walk, still hand in hand, peering in at each booth. You pass a lot of artisanal foodstuffs - organic honey, jams and preserves from the local farms, fancy teas and coffee beans, a handmade fudge stand (this one gets your money). 

There’s also a healthy showing from local artists - one booth is full of landscape paintings, and you spend quite some time standing, looking at each one, marveling over them. There’s plenty of knit and woven goods - hats, mittens, scarves, socks, sweaters. Taehyung eyes a black and white scarf, playing with the material for a minute before letting it drop back to its spot. You stop again two booths down at a little pottery stand. The artist displays vases and bowls, and shelves of handcrafted mugs, each one sporting different colors and designs. “No two alike!” the sign proclaims.

You gravitate towards a few mugs that are clearly not identical, but must have been painted on the same day - they sport the same deep blues and an almost silvery grey, swirled like rainy puddles on a sidewalk. You pick up two, turning them in tandem, looking at each angle. Instead of protruding handles, they have smooth divots where your fingers should fit as you hold them.

“Those are nice,” Taehyung says, looking over your shoulder. 

“All my good mugs are still at my parents’ house,” you tell him.

“Let’s get two,” he suggests, reaching over your shoulder to pick up another blue mug, turning it over in his hand. “You pick one and I’ll pick one.”

“So we match?” you tease, already starting to look for one that stands out to you.

“You can think of me every time you use it.” He gives you a teasing wink so you’ll know he’s mostly kidding. 

“It is pretty,” you say, putting back the one you’d been eyeing and reaching for another. “I like the blue. And I like the finger-grooves instead of a handle.”

“Come on,” Taehyung says decisively. “Pick one, let’s get them.”

The potter bags them separately for you so you don’t get yours mixed up with Taehyung’s, and you continue down the road. You’re heading in the direction of the band, the music growing louder as you approach. The indie trio seems to be taking a break, and jazzy instrumentals come through the speakers instead. Some older couples dance together in the space in front of the now-empty stage, hands locked.

“Come dance with me?” Taehyung asks quietly, setting down his little bag with the mug inside under a nearby bench, reaching for yours too.

“Doesn’t really look like a young people scene,” you observe, but you hand him your bag when he reaches for it.

“Do you care that much?” he asks, and there’s something challenging in the way he says it. 

“I guess not,” you allow, and he grins, starting to swivel his hips to the trumpets, reaching a hand for you to join him. You can’t help but laugh - he’s so freaking silly, and he really gives no shits, and you kind of love that about him.

He spins you slowly, one hand on your waist, and you’re somehow surprised that he’s a good dancer. He leads you well, and you let yourself be in this moment as best you can: the taste of peppermint in your mouth, the lights around you glowing golden, your heart beating in time with the harmonies of the brass instruments, Taehyung’s body solid and warm against your as he holds you tight.

–

When the indie band returns, the jazz covers fading down to nothing, Taehyung leads you towards the little creek that winds through the park. This area isn’t technically part of the festival, and people aren’t really walking here. The Christmas lights and decorations don’t extend this far into the park either, but the path is lit by lanterns on posts along the side of the path. Taehyung leads you onto a small bridge and leans his elbows on the railing.

“I like this spot,” he tells you. “When I was starting to walk a little after my accident, I’d come here. It’s not too far from the parking lot and it felt… peaceful, I guess.”

You look at him, listening. The creek runs below you, the sound soothing.

He turns to face you, and you close the gap willingly, leaning up to meet his lips, knowing they’re coming.

There’s some ferocity to his kiss tonight; you don’t know if he’s just tired of holding back, if he’s keyed up from dancing together, or what, but something is different. He tangles a hand in your hair and tightens his fingers, his other hand pulling you flush against him by the small of your back. Your mouth opens on a tiny noise of satisfaction, and his tongue strokes yours immediately. 

He tastes like caramel, he smells like a man, and your head spins as he presses your body against the bridge railing, fingers still lodged in your hair. You press yourself against him, wanting to feel as much of his body against yours as you can, winter coats be damned. 

You want to be as close as possible, you want to feel every part of him, you want to - even if only for right this second - let him in in every way. You can’t put it into words, even in your head, so you try to put as much of it into your kiss as you can; you grip his jacket tight between your fingers and pull him against you, relish the feeling of him hardening against you, drown a little in the contented grunts he makes when you move your mouth down his jaw and towards his neck. 

He releases your hair and grabs your ass with both hands, helping to increase the friction you’re both creating, and you release the skin of his neck long enough to let out a sigh, resting your forehead on his shoulder, sucking in air. He half-grunts, half-growls and nudges at your forehead, trying to get you to lift your chin so he can kiss you more.

“Taehyung,” you breathe, looking up to meet his eyes.

“What is it, baby?” he murmurs, hands still tight on the meat of your ass. “What do you need?”

You. 

Somehow, this is true.

“Take me home?” you ask, hands still holding him in place by his jacket. “Not campus,” you clarify quickly, when his eyes widen a little.

He wraps his arms all the way around you and pulls you in tight, pressing his lips to your forehead quickly before letting you go.

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” he whispers. You let go of his jacket and reach for his hand. This time, you lead him through the park, aiming for the parking lot.

As you pass back through the festival on your way to the car, you notice the long line of families waiting to take pictures with Santa. 

“I didn’t get to sit on Santa’s lap,” you pretend to pout.

“I’ll give you a lap to sit on,” he quips, and you laugh out loud, shocked at his audacity.

He laughs too, actually covering his mouth with his spare hand. “Sorry,” he says through his giggles. “That one should have stayed in my head.”

In the car, Taehyung drives with one hand on your thigh, his thumb tracing circles on the thick fabric of your tights. You don’t talk much, but you keep your eyes on him, steady, as his face comes in and out of view as you pass under streetlights and then continue into darkness again. Every now and then he glances back at you, and when he meets your eyes he gives you a tiny smile, almost like he thinks it's funny that you’re still looking.

At the house, the living room is empty, and after you hang your coats on hooks Taehyung leads the way upstairs, shutting and locking his door as usual.

You sit on his desk chair and unzip your tall boots, placing them carefully under his desk, out of the way so no one trips on them in the dark later. When you’re done, you look back up at him. He’s standing with his arms crossed, watching you carefully. He’s kicked off his own shoes; unlike yours, they lay in the middle of the room, discarded.

You rise, walking over to him gingerly, and he takes your face between his hands, kissing you sweetly. Too sweetly. You want to kiss like you did on the bridge. You take over, kissing him more aggressively, humming into his mouth when he takes your ass in his hands again. Right where you left off, you think.

He lowers his hands as you kiss him, skimming the sensitive underside of your ass, hands slipping beneath your dress. His fingers caress the backs of your thighs, just once, and then he’s moving them back up, searching for the hem of your tights. When he finds it, he crumples the material in a fist, pulling you against him again, and then gently slides his thumbs under the waistband. He peels your tights down your body tantalizingly slowly, his eyes locked on yours the whole time, giving you plenty of time to object if you want to.

You don’t.

You step out of your tights as they hit the floor, and Taehyung gathers up your skirt in one hand, caressing your bared ass with the other, pulling you in to kiss you again, breathing in so harshly as he does that it’s almost like he’s breathing you in. You silently thank Bridget for reminding you to wear something lacy tonight.

You reach up and start unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, tugging it off of his shoulders and running your hands up his toned arms and back down his chest. He exhales sharply, fingers tightening on your butt as you trace lines up and down his stomach, wanting to touch everything.

He reaches behind you to find the zipper on your dress, struggling a little with the hook and eye at the top. You feel the cold air hit your back as he drags the zipper down, and then he mimics your earlier motion, tugging the shoulders off of your arms.

He takes a second to look at you as your dress falls to your ankles and then he’s kissing you again, hands roaming as if he can’t decide what to touch first, what to touch longer, as if his hands miss one part of you the second they stray to visit somewhere else. 

He unhooks your bra and you toss it sideways, then your hands go for his belt buckle. He kicks his head back and huffs out a breath, trying to maintain control as your hands deftly undo his belt and loosen it. 

“God,” he groans, fingers twitching, as if not touching you for these two minutes is taking all of his self-control. You love him like this - like he’s barely keeping it together, like he’s seconds aware from losing it and tearing you apart. 

Part of you hopes he does.

You unzip his pants carefully, then glance up at his face before pulling them over his hips. He watches you evenly, but his breathing is anything but even. You take in the sight of him as his slacks fall away and he uses his toes to push off the socks from each foot, leaving him only in boxer briefs. They hug him tightly, showing the curve of his fantastic ass, the swell of his trapped cock.

You let out a shaky breath as Taehyung pulls you close again, and then he pushes you backwards towards his bed. You land on your back and scoot up as he crawls over top of you, kissing you again. You clutch at his upper arms as he runs a hand from your hip up to your chest and back down again. Then his fingers brush the lace edge of your underwear, and you know he’s asking for permission. 

“Go ahead,” you breathe, and he slides his fingers under the material, seeking what he wants. 

“Oh, my god,” he groans, pressing his warm length against your leg desperately, as he circles his fingers in your wetness, not even having to press inside to find it. His hair swings a little with each movement he makes. “You ready for me, baby?”

You let out a breath like a laugh. “Apparently,” you tell him, smiling as you kiss him again. Then, he pushes in two fingers at once, sinking them into your heat until they can’t go any further. You gasp at the intrusion, but it turns into something guttural quickly because the feeling is divine. God, his fingers are long.

“Mm, Taehyung,” you murmur, shifting to give him more room as he begins to pump his fingers out and in again, thumb reaching for your clit. You take a shuddering breath, closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling, but it’s only a minute later that you’re reaching for him, trying to tug his briefs off.

He lifts up so you can slide them down his hips, kicking them off the end of the bed. He hisses and closes his eyes when you wrap a hand around him, tugging a few times, eyeing his girth. 

“Do I need -?” he manages to ask, voice raw, eyes flickering to his nightstand.

A condom. “I have an IUD,” you tell him. “And I know I’m clean. You?”

“Definitely clean, I promise,” he tells you, reaching down to tug at your panties, the final article of clothing. Once he tosses them towards the end of the bed and comes to rest fully over top of you, he pauses to kiss you again, sweet and deep. His member slides along your slit and he can’t help but move a little, slicking himself up along one side. You groan, half tempted to shift your hips and just take him, no warning.

“Y/N,” he whispers, pausing his movement, looking at you carefully. “You’re sure, right?”

You want to kiss him again, just for asking. God, what did you do to deserve how sweet he is to you? 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “I’m really sure. I want you.”

He closes his eyes at these words, resting his forehead against yours for a second, and then he’s reaching down to position himself at your entrance, pushing forward slowly. He keeps his eyes on your face and you breathe slowly as you adjust to him. He pauses when he bottoms out, giving you a second.

You give your hips a few experimental circles, feeling the stretch. “Okay,” you whisper. “Move? Please?”

He kisses you quickly and acquiesces, starting a steady, quick pace. You both groan, drowning each other out, as he moves. He touches you as he keeps this pace, tweaking a nipple, kneading your ass, smoothing down your hair. 

“God, you feel good,” he murmurs. 

“You, too,” you assure him. He slows his pace, pulling out and entering with excruciating slowness; you can feel every single ridge positively drag along your walls. You try to take it, try to let him toy with you. But it’s so fucking much, the sensations building to the point of being overwhelming, you can’t possibly hold him tight enough, you can’t bear it.

“Go faster, please,” you beg, voice broken almost to the point of a sob. 

“Jesus,” he gasps, and then does as you ask, beginning to snap his hips at a bruising speed. You can feel your pleasure building, your thighs shaking and then calming, then shaking again. Taehyung adjusts his angle, using both hands to lift your hips a little higher, pulling you against him with each thrust, and you keen out his name.

“Tae, there -!”

He smiles at you wickedly, brows furrowed with effort and concentration. He locks in the angle and ups his pace, eyes roving your body.

“Ah - Taehyung - I’m -,” you gasp, screwing your eyes shut.

“Close?” he asks, voice so low it makes your toes curl. 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Tae…”

“Yes, baby,” he hisses, hips slapping lewdly against your own. You reach down to rub your clit, feeling the mounting pressure snap and crest, white blooming behind your eyes. You come with a whine, and he fucks you through it as you pulse and clench around him, shuddering beneath his hands. 

“So pretty,” he tells you with a whisper as your muscles relax again, stilling his hips long enough to give you a quick kiss on the lips. Then he’s grabbing your ankles and pressing them together, lifting them to rest on his shoulder. He bends you practically in half, leaning his weight on his hands, pounding you into the mattress until your eyes roll back. You can’t even make words at this point, only whines and whimpers as you screw your eyes shut.

“God,” he growls. “Fuck! Y/N, can I -? Inside?”

“Please,” you cry, your heart still racing from your own climax, “yes, do it.”

His thrusts speed up but get sloppier, his earlier precision falling away as his hips jerk and stutter, his breathing ragged in your ear. 

“F-fuck,” he gasps, pushing further into you, seeking more heat, hips slowing until they still. He breathes for just a second, and then rolls sideways, reaching over to grab a towel from the back of his desk chair. He hands it to you to let you clean up, waiting patiently for his turn. Then, he throws it in the general direction of his hamper and rolls to gather you in his arms, still breathing heavily.

“Hi,” you say, giggling a little. He smiles back, and you can feel how fast his heart is racing. 

“Hi,” he says back, trying to steady his breathing. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, snuggling up against his side as he rolls to his back, the oxytocin flowing. “You?”

“Fucking fabulous,” he tells you with a laugh. 

You both lay there quietly for a minute, cooling down. Then, he turns to look at you. 

“Y/N,” he says, “I just want to make sure you know… if we’re doing this… it will be only you, for me. Okay? I’m not… just… it’s only you.”

This is the truth: in your heart, you don’t believe him. Maybe he means it right this second - in fact, you’re sure he does. But this is what you know about love and relationships: things change. Just because someone means it today doesn’t mean they’ll mean it in a week, or a month, or a year.

“I appreciate that,” you say. It is sweet of him to reassure you, especially considering what he knows about your past. You’re glad, too, that he kept it vague - doing this. What was this, talking? Fucking? Dating? Whatever the answer is, you feel better not putting a name to it. “I prefer one at a time, too. It’s just… less complicated that way.”

For you, it’s true. That’s the only thing you’re really sure of. 

Next

*innocent whistles*

Thank you for being here! I appreciate every single like, reply, dm, ask, or reblog!

HUGEST thank you to Pauli for basically writing the entire date and for beta-ing!!!

[thechekhov]

This comic made it to my Patreon first, but I'm posting it here, finally. It's been two weeks now, and she's settling in well!

Aaand of course, we have dog photo tax:

Between the time this comic was drawn and posted, her ears have popped up!

[perpetual-stories]

Three Tips for Using Plot Devices in Your Writing

hello, hello! today in this post, I will be wrapping up the mini series of common plot devices used in literature.

I have already covered four: Deux Ex Machina, MacGuffin, and The Red Herring and Chekhov’s Gun

I will quickly talk both the other plot devices and then I will give you three tips on how to utilise them in your writings.

Let’s go over the remaining plot devices, shall we?

1. Love Triangle:

is a love story involving three characters

two of the characters are both in love with the third

there are many popular examples: The Hunger Games - Katniss, Peeta, Gale Twilight, Bella, Edward and Jacob (Team Jacob fan here)

2. Quest:

many of the world’s most popular and timeless narratives involve characters on a quest

Indiana Jones is forever on a quest in films like Raiders of the Lost Ark, and the Jedi knights embark on one epic quest after another in the Star Wars series

3. Cliffhanger:

Is one of the most commonly used used plot devices

by not resolving an ending, an author keeps their readers yearning for more and certain to come back

Most comic books end each installment on a cliffhanger—often with the hero dangling over a death trap

Now, let’s go over how to use these plot devises :)

Use plot devices to enhance your core story: a plot device is not a gadget to cover up egregious plot holes or two-dimensional characters. Quality storytelling still requires strong fundamental storytelling, vivid worldbuilding, and relatable characters. Get these elements in place first and then layer on plot devices

Keep your plot devices organic to the narrative: Fiction depends on an audience’s suspension of disbelief, and a clunky plot device can result in loss of the suspension of disbelief. Suddenly, instead of paying attention to the main character and the world of the story, a reader might find themselves analyzing the plot device itself

Learn the difference between plot devices and literary devices: Literary devices are writing tools that include motifs, symbolism, allegory, and chiasmus. They can elevate your actual writing, but they are not inherently connected to story

I’ll once again tag links to my other posts referring to the first four plot devices.

There you have it everyone! Quick post for ya’ll!

Like, comment, and reblog if you found this useful! Feel free to share on Instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on tumblr and Instagram for more writing and grammar tips and more!

[eremiie]

tips for planning a multipart fanfic? I’m considering on writing one but I’m not sure how to really plan :/// I only got the general concept as well as the title down but that’s as far as I could get for being an amateur of a writer... orz

i’ll try to help you out!

so i only have one multipart fic (a series) in the works right now, but i’ll tell you what i’ve done :)

planning a series;

determine whether you’re a plotter or a pantser;

a plotter is someone who outlines and plots their whole entire story before they begin it. i am a plotter, i plan out every little thing, and this goes for my series to my oneshots, to sometimes even drabbles LMFAO. a pantser is someone who doesn’t do much planning and kind of just goes with the flow. this is a spectrum— you can be in the middle, you can lean towards plotting, you can lead towards pantsing. i will say take a shot at plotting though because i think it’s really helpful and can really help you lay a basis for your story. there’s a lot of outlining sheets to take from the internet, like “the heros journey”, “the eight c’s”, etc!

know your characters;

for fanfics it’s pretty easier than creating original characters because you already have characters that you’re working with that you just need to characterize to fit the plot. characterizing characters and getting them right can be hard too though. i suggest using wiki websites for these characters to know their personality, research their zodiacs if you think they act like them, research their personality types, etc. since i usually write reader inserts i still characterize my reader but i make it as vague as possible. for example, my reader in my series karma is independent, caring, a tad bit stoic, and much more. knowing your characters doesn’t even stop at the personality though— in my notes for my outline of karma i have things down to how my characters talk! here’s a peek at my notes;

if you can see, the first photo i planned out the characters relation to reader, and in the second photo i planned out how the characters talk. you’re probably like “why does that matter?” but even things like that can really characterize and give way to a character. sasha’s speech style shows that she grew up in the country— because canonically she lived on a farm and i incorporate that into my story. pieck’s speech style (will) shows that she’s clever, and she’s smart and she lets people figure out things on their own. armin’s speech style shows that he’s intelligent and has a lot going on in his brain!! so yeah, know your characters :)

worldbuild;

worldbuilding is as it sounds, build your world, plan out the world you’re gonna create in your story, even if it’s something you’re not gonna mention— knowing your world to the best of your ability helps you know how your characters will move in this world. for example, in my notes i have the plot set in marley, “marley university” if you will, i have the dormmates written down, the couples written down, i have imagery of how the college is set up in my head as well. so worldbuild your story.

character arcs;

so especially for stories with a lot of characters you’ll need to give characters purpose in your stories. don’t just introduce a character in chapter 4 and forget about them. every character introduced needs to come back eventually. the character needs to have some purpose in the story, their relevance needs to be made known. and this character needs to have their own closing for their “arc” as well. for example, in attack on titan isayama closes every single one of the characters arcs by fulfilling what they needed to fulfill, by having them push the plot forth, or come at peace within theirselves or something like that. ymir for example finally got to live for herself and shows hisu how to live for herself. released hisu from the binds of “christa” and helped her discover her true self. this in itself pushed the plot forth because hisu became hisu which is a reiss and took the throne, and so on. that was the closing of ymir’s arc, and that was the blossom for historia’s. so know your characters and build arcs for them that’ll come to a close. write these arcs down in your notes if you need to make it clear for yourself!

plot;

and of course, we’ll dive deep into plotting. so when i plot my story i figure out what the endgame is at first. how is the story gonna end? where is everyone going to end up? if it’s a romance are the 2 characters going to end up together? when you know the end you can work backwards until you get to the beginning. this is optional but also know what you’re trying to tell your reader. do you have a theme in mind? 

when i plot i start with big plot points personally, so what are the main events that are going to happen? then i figure out the mini plot points that’ll get us from point A to point B until all the gaps are filled. so once again, for example lets say we’re writing a romance. endgame is that eren and armin end up together.

eren and armin meet in a coffee shop where eren is struggling with his biology class

eren and armin become study buddies

eren and armin realize they like each other after so many study seshs

eren stops studying with armin bc he thinks he’s gonna mess something up

armin gets sad and starts talking to jean about it

eren thinks jean and armin have something going on so he confesses to armin b4 jean does (even tho jean wasn’t)

eren and armin end up together

LMAO so those would be my major plot points, then i’d intertwine these plot points together to create the story as a whole. maybe armin sits down to help eren since he was waiting for his coffee and ended up staying longer than he intended. maybe then armin bumps into eren at school and recognizes him from the coffee shop and asks him how biology is going and eren says terrible so he offers to study with him. (that’d be from point A to B) maybe then they become routine study buddies every wednesday and start pining for each other. and so on, i’ll slowly intertwine all these plot points until i have the story all filled out. 

go into detail with it!!! figure out the events in between that will lead to the next event, make it all click :) afterwards you can divide everything into chapters.

i will say though when you’re dividing it into chapters i think what’s gonna make your reader want to turn the page is leaving every chapter on a “cliffhanger” and a cliffhanger doesn’t always mean something big. it just means something left open ended that the reader needs to read more to find out about. for example in karma chapter one, why is eren drunk? who is the unknown number texting his phone? these things need to eventually be answered and the reader has to turn the page to get to the answer to these questions. 

try to lace everything in your story together, and make sure that everything mentioned in your story needs to be mentioned. chekhov’s gun; don’t tell us there’s a gun on the wall in chapter 1 if someone’s not gonna fire it in chapter 12. bring everything back and let everything contribute to the story as a whole. 

symbolism;

annddd just a little something extra that can really round out a series is symbolism. symbols give this pizazz to your story— but it’s optional of course!! i just think it’s fun to add in. for example, the purple flowers in attack on titan, the tree eren likes to sleep under, attack on titan ending on 139, little things like that are symbolism and can shed more on a story or on a character than you think. be wise with your symbolism and sprinkle it here and there (make sure it makes sense though!!) 

[all-pacas]

wednesday, friday & september?

wednesday: name a fic which you have posted which you think is underrated?

looking at it it actually got a lot of hits so idk if it counts, but i remember when i wrote 'another inch every year,' aka shameless nott/veth identity crisis angst/what if/is it widobrave i don't know, i was really, really proud of it and a little bummed that the world did not fall to its knees in praise of me lol.

friday: most self-indulgent fic you have ever posted?

all of them. but definitely my unfinished much ado about nothing soulmate au fanfic. because just say those words aloud, and also because my secret crack is taking concepts that i think make no sense and are a little dumb (soulmate aus) and trying to extrapolate on them. like, what if soulmate au but it's 16th century italy. WHAT IF. my favorite thing to do is try to think of ways to make silly ideas work in the canon setting

september: share a comment or review which still warms your heart?

i'm not going to dig up the exact one because it was years ago, but i am going to summarize it in detail because it was that gratifying! i was writing this super long, super self-indulgent (actually it could very easily be my "friday" answer as well) horizon zero dawn story. and in like. idk chapter 4 i mentioned a book offhand, and had character A doodle in it while talking of home, and leave it in B's possession. and i had always intended on this being a chekhov's gun, B needed to find A's home somehow and this was going to be how it was done, and i intentionally didn't linger on the plot point or anything. and then like 20 chapters and over a year later i finally got to that part of the story — and like let me stress that one of the main reasons i refused to give up on the story was to get to this exact reveal — and one of the comments — and i need to stress, about 8 people read the story on a good day — was along the lines "jesus christ the book, she wrote in the book," and i was just. that they remembered! that my plot hook worked! it was just so gratifying to me like, i can do this! i can plot!!

[mtqcomic]

#119: Enchanted Sword

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Spot the Chekhov’s Gun.

Sorry I missed Wednesday, I just didn’t make this page in time. More importantly, how ‘bout that rainbow glow?