#getting introspective again

[moonchild-in-blue]

If you choose to look at Sleep as an allegory for depression/mental illness, the romantic and co-dependent nature of Vessel's lyrics hurt that much more.

"I hate you and you're bad for me" "I don't know who I am without you" "Please set me free" "Please don't leave me" "You're an intrinsic part of me" "I must become someone new".

Ya feel me?

[illyrianbitch]

what do you think is your biggest red flag

i write fanfiction on tumblr dot com

[akumastrife]

teach me your words, and I'll show you mine // AFTG + TSC {KevJereJean}

Rating: Mature (smoking weed, blowjobs) Fandom: AFTG/TSC Pairing: KevJereJean (Established JereJean with the ever-involved Kevin the bicycle Day) Word Count: 3.3k Prompts: shotgunning + naps (for @aftg-420-fest even though I''m very late with this one! I was on vacay while trying to finish this, and then decided not to stress but I am FINISHING THINGS. and I love shotgunning its so slutty) {Also on AO3}

“You’ve done this before,” Kevin hissed, accusatory, and in French. He must have forgotten himself, or didn’t think Jeremy’s lessons were going very well. Jeremy himself was mildly surprised he could pick out the words and their meaning in Kevin’s sharp tone.

Jean, to his credit, only lifted one eyebrow as he let the smoke escape through his nose. The joint looked natural in his long fingers, flicked idly so burning ash fell to the red and gold ceramic dish by his elbow.

Something about Jean using Jeremy’s lopsided pottery class project made his insides squirm.

“You sent me to him. He asks, I say yes,” Jean mused. He shifted lower in the armchair, stretching his long legs out and crossing them loosely at the ankles. Gestured wide with the joint to the water bottle of vodka in Kevin’s hand, lip curling in a sneer, scoffing. “Better than that.”

Jeremy had never been so happy he had asked Jean and that Jean had said yes. Smoking, regardless of what it was, relaxed Jeremy, and more now that it seemed to do the same for Jean. He wasn’t sure what the difference was in Jean’s mind that made weed okay where as nicotine wasn’t, but he’d take it. Especially when it made Jean sprawl languid with all the pride and disdain Evermore had tried to beat out of him. Jean was a big man, and how boneless he was now made it more somehow.

“It’s stupid and reckless,” Kevin was saying. Jeremy was starting to lose bits of time, starting to loosen his grasp on his already shaky attention. “I didn’t send you here to —— and now with—”

“How special your washed up team is, then ——high and drunk——toddlers—”

“Shut your—mouth——, you know nothing, this isn’t why I——”

“It helps us sleep.”

Jeremy stilled; didn’t realize he’d been fiddling with a lighter. Glanced between them and away. Found himself watching Jean instead; powerful, calmly certain, something hard in his gray eyes.

Jeremy was also surprised and dismayed he was half-hard in his athletic shorts. He didn't want to be, but Kevin was glaring sharp and Jean was dismissive and they were throwing their rapid-fire French conversation around him like he didn’t matter while the creeping high dragged him sweetly down. It made him shiver, some shameful part of him perking to attention and then shrinking down.

Those gray eyes slid to his, calculating, considering, as the joint found its way between damp, pink lips.

Jeremy felt his chest empty and clench tight at the sight, everything in him straining towards the picture Jean made. Only a few feet away and yet untouchable. The stoic bruiser to Kevin’s uptight fury. Two immovable ports in choppy water, keeping him buoyed.

“Jeremy,” Jean said, more French than not, and Jeremy flushed at the whimper that escaped him without his permission.

It wasn’t his fault. Anyone who Jean said their name like that would’ve been putty before him. Already he was eager for whatever Jean asked of him, damn Kevin being there.

Jeremy’s dick twitched, throbbed.

Maybe… maybe better for Kevin being there.

Jeremy swallowed, rubbing his hands on his shorts, the texture bringing him back down just enough. “Jean.”

Jean’s eyes dropped to Jeremy’s mouth, so he had to lick his lips, had to see the way Jean’s pupils would darken. “Here, come.”

Kevin scoffed, but Jeremy was already wobbling to his feet and crossing the distance to him. Whenever Jeremy asked, Jean said yes; whenever Jean called, Jeremy came. And it was nothing to lean down so Jean could lean up and meet him in a slack kiss. Just a warm, comforting meeting of lips. Jean tasted like smoke and the peach electrolyte he’d been fond of lately. Jeremy sighed against his mouth, letting the kiss drift open and away, eyes closed but hearing Kevin’s sharp in take of breath as if it was right in front of him.

“Maybe Kevin just needs to be taught,” Jean said. His tone was a little condescending, and Jeremy couldn’t help but shiver at it.

“You are an ignorant child if you think I will—”

“You will. He showed me. He would not hurt me. He likes you, he has your poster. He will not hurt you.”

There were so many unsaid things firing back and forth that Jeremy couldn’t keep up. Jean was stroking the sliver of his exposed hip like he didn’t expect Jeremy to, like Jeremy was something to enjoy but not part of the conversation. It made him harder than he should be. Jean confident, Jean comfortable, Jean a little fucking mean, was hotter than it had any right to be.

“It’s worse than the alcohol.”

“Not really. It does not make me sick, it does linger but it is…” Jean slowly rubbed his thumb along Jeremy’s hipbone, like he wanted to rub his own fingers together in thought but Jeremy was in the way and just as good for the motion. “Softer. Get rid of that——let him show you as he——”

Jeremy looked to Kevin, waiting. Not asking, but ready to include him if he wanted. “Put down the bottle, Kevin. Just for tonight? I know you’re not sleeping. That isn’t going to help.”

“Yes, you look like shit,” Jean said, dry.

Jeremy wasn’t sure if he was allowed to laugh, but he already was. The fact that it was Kevin, that it was Jean, that it was just them, was probably the only reason it passed without a fight.

“You played better, tonight,” Kevin said, glaring. “But your attitude is worse.”

“Do not,” Jean snapped, hand tightening on Jeremy’s hip, and then loosening.

Jeremy watched the way the ex-ravens watched each other. Too much between them, too much unsaid, too much that couldn’t be taken back. Thought maybe he shouldn’t be there after all—he could crash on Cat and Laila’s hotel pull-out couch—but when he shifted, both snapped the same glare at him.

Jeremy pulled off his sweaty shirt, settling to stay. He didn’t (tried not to) focus on the weight of their eyes, still pinning him in place but different. It might not be his business, might be one of those long dark years shared that he’d never fully understand.

“Show him, Jeremy,” Jean finally said. He gestured wide with the joint, taking another shallow hit himself before offering it up to him.

“Are you sure?” Jeremy asked, even as he took the joint between his fingers. Cut a slow look to Kevin and then back. Like that? Tilted his head at Jean in question.

It was no secret the admiration Jeremy had for Kevin. Maybe more.

It had always been fun for fans to speculate the change to Kevin’s face when he talked about the Trojans—about Jeremy—during his interviews.

It was the worst kept secret the way Jean still looked at Kevin. How Kevin looked back, mostly tainted with calloused regret, less potent but coloring every word he said. It was somehow stronger in French, even when the words had nothing to do with him.

“It will do him good, get the stick out of his ass,” Jean said. “No one likes a hypocrite.”

Jeremy snorted and choked on an unattractive laugh as Kevin’s eyes blazed in insult.

“See?” Jean said, nodding slow and grave. “Jeremy agrees.”

It wasn’t that serious.

It was never that serious, even when Jean sounded like it was a death sentence. Jeremy could help with that.

“Okay then.” Jeremy sucked hard on the joint, stepping carefully over to Kevin and then up between his parted knees. He bent down, bracing his empty hand on the back of the chair and put his lips just shy of Kevin’s, heart racing at the quick hiss of inhale, the burn in his lungs, the heat Kevin put out.

“Let him. It is good. You will forget your own name.”

Jeremy didn’t give Kevin a chance to snipe anything back, just leaned in to press their lips together, tongue slipping out to pass between Kevin’s lips to open them and exhale the smoke heavy into him.

Kevin inhaled in surprise again, but his hand was tight on Jeremy’s neck, thumb pressing too hard, and let him.

“You always were weak for him,” Jean mused, low behind them.

Kevin shuddered, stilled, let the smoke back out stuttering and coughing. Jeremy couldn’t help a laugh, couldn’t help grinning against the corner of Kevin’s mouth, staying close because he was high and he wanted to. Jean wanted him to.

“Not as weak as you——” Kevin said back, hoarse. Said something else whip-sharp, but it passed through Jeremy easily, letting him inhale again, hold, pass it to Kevin on another slip of his tongue. Kevin was more ready that time, took the smoke easier, held it and then let it out slower, catching when doing so caught his lips back on Jeremy’s.

Jeremy took the moment of uncertainty on Kevin’s face to ease the bottle from his grip, setting it blindly behind him somewhere out the way. Slid into his lap, knees pressing into the small bit of space between seat cushion and hard arms.

“I’ll take it easy on you,” Jeremy promised warmly. Shifted, sat closer, grinned on a tight gasp at the slide of friction and the way it made Kevin’s eyelashes flutter and his forehead pinch. Jeremy smoothed his thumb between his brows. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Kevin said, the lightest blush spreading across his cheeks.

Jeremy offered him the joint—it was getting short, they’d need to finish it fast before it burned itself out—but Kevin pressed his lips together and looked between it and him.

“Slut,” Jean said.

Jeremy’s smile widened as Kevin’s frown deepened, angry flush brightening. They were going to get trashed at this rate, but Jeremy wasn’t going to waste the opportunity, wasn’t going to stop if no one wanted him to. He settled in, pulling on the joint and sharing most of it with Kevin that time. Over and over, each lean in getting slower, the slide and catch of their lips messier, more smoke escaping than not when Jeremy could curl his tongue around Kevin’s and suck in pantomime of something else.

Kevin’s hips twitched up and the hands he somehow had on Jeremy’s hips tightened.

“I could,” Jeremy offered, kissing his bottom lip, his cheek, the soft spot below one ear. He was delighted to find that it affected Kevin nearly as much as Jean—glanced at Jean out of his periphery, checking if this was still okay, that Jean was okay, wondering if he was enjoying the view. 

A shiver rolled down Jeremy's spine at the deep, dark look in Jean’s gray eyes. He'd rolled another joint, held it in his long fingers, toying with it. Jean shifted lower on the chair, indolent and lazy, knees tipped out wide and the bulge in his joggers visible and tempting as anything. 

Jeremy's mouth watered, needing something in his mouth. The joint was about finished. He could have something better. 

“Jean?”

Jean tipped his head back and forth, considering. Looked at the joint, looked at Kevin. Shook his head. “I am busy. Occupy yourself there.”

“I can,” Jeremy said into Kevin’s mouth, like a secret and goading all in one. The end of the roach burned down in-between his fingers held just out of the way of Kevin’s hair, the rest of them cradling the sides of his skull. “Let me?”

“Jeremy…” Kevin’s tone was plaintive. A thousand unsaid things teeming around it.

Jeremy didn’t need to hear them, didn’t care. He was heavy and soft and floating; he was turned on and slowly rocking their hips together. He was lazily licking into Kevin’s mouth, smiling at the shuddering sigh and Kevin opening to it.

“He is good with his tongue, see? Did I not tell you?” Jean said. His voice was low, rougher. Jeremy remembered dozens of nights with that voice close in his ear. Rutted closer.

“Haven’t seen anything yet,” Jeremy said. He ground out the last of the roach against a plate, letting it crumble as he slid out of Kevin’s lap and down to the floor. Blinked doe-eyed up at Kevin just to see his expression crack open. “I’ve thought about this. Haven’t you?”

The pink across Kevin’s face darkened as he swallowed.

It was as much of a confession as he expected to get. All he needed.

Jean was saying something in French, low and taunting, quiet enough he couldn’t parse out the words. But they were clearly for Kevin and he didn’t care enough to try to translate when he could run his hands up and down the inside of Kevin’s thighs. Could open his pants and tug petulant on waistbands until Jean snapped out an order that made Kevin scoff. But Kevin lifted himself enough Jeremy could work down his layers, a moan slipping out as he freed Kevin from his briefs.

The high padded him all over, pushing him down into his own little bubble now that he was where he wanted to be. Stopped paying attention to Kevin or Jean or anything outside of how nice it was to scoot forward, tucking his knees behind Kevin’s calves. Pressed his tongue to his bottom lip in wanting, wetting it, so he could take Kevin’s cock into his mouth in one heady slide. He shifted, humming a whine, at his own cock pressing needy against the inside of his shorts.

He reached—

“Jeremy,” Jean said, clucking his tongue. “No.”

Jeremy wasn’t sure if he or Kevin made the gutted noise. Maybe both of them. Didn’t matter. He checked his breathing, kept his teeth out of the way, and dipped down again. The rhythm was easy to find, even as spit dripped down his chin.

Easier to sink down in the heady, mindless space where hands were in his hair, his own were hooked slack on flinching muscle, and the buzz of friction across his tongue was it’s own sort of high.

He went slow, enjoying himself, simmering. Traced his tongue leisurely, noting Kevin’s size and heft and how to hold him best in his mouth. Inhaled slowly so he could slide down, letting the blunt head slip into his throat for a count of one-two-three. Swallowed as he pulled up again, all his nerves sparking at the way hands pulled on his hair and Kevin’s stomach caved in hard in a flinch. The sounds that rattled up out of Kevin’s chest were nothing short of euphoric; muffled and slurred through the veil of the weed like the roars of the crowd outside the inner court.

The murmur of strained French over his head pulled him struggling from the sucking depth of his own thoughts.

Jeremy stilled his hips with a soft whine, realizing belated that he’d been arching forward into nothing, desperate for relief that couldn’t be found in his current position.

“He is like the sun, no?” Jean asked, near a whisper.

Pleasure warmed under Jeremy’s skin.

Kevin only hummed an agreement, face perplexed and slack. If Jeremy was thinking clearly, he’d think that Kevin looked lost. But that couldn’t be right, because he was here with them, was here above Jeremy, had his hands in Jeremy’s hair. Was anchored where he needed to be.

Jeremy would just have to find him again.

He breathed, swallowed, and sank back onto Kevin’s cock, tucking him into his cheek so he could use his tongue. Coaxing. Soft and needy in his whine; his fingers drawing down to rub firmly into the V of his pelvis and circle the base of his cock. Kevin was tacky-slick with sweat, spit, and bitter precome.

“All pent up,” Jeremy crooned, pulling off enough to suck hard under the head. Grinned at Kevin jerking in surprise, the wrenching sound pulled from him. “No wonder you can’t sleep. You’ll stay, right? After?”

“Jeremy,” Kevin gasped, thready and warning. His thighs trembled, and Jeremy had to just sit and watch them for a moment, thumb digging idly in the soft spot under Kevin’s balls. Smoothed there at the flinch; wandering eyes snapping back to the head as it darkened, jumped, oozed thick.

He licked it up, sucking Kevin back into his throat and batted away the reflex to gag as Kevin shouted, hands shaking and yanking hard on Jeremy’s hair, and spilled hot and pulsing into his throat. Tears prickled at Jeremy’s eyes, but his whole body hummed with satisfaction and arousal, trying to take him deeper, trying to keep him, trying to worm hands behind Kevin’s back to drag him in closer. Impossible. All of it was impossible, but Jeremy had it.

He had to be dragged off with a sharp hand, gasping and lashes stuck together damp—a drowning man pulled from the ocean. He was too hot, too heavy, too high, detached from everything he was supposed to be, and adrift in the way everything tilted and swam around him.

“Jean,” he croaked.

“I am here, love,” Jean soothed. And then he was there, knelt behind him and pulling Jeremy backwards into his lap, against his wide and solid chest. Pet and soothed him, whispering softly in his ear, both of them looking up at Kevin.

Kevin, a demigod knocked down shivering and pink and mortal.

“You did well,” Jean praised, palms soft across Jeremy’s chest and then separating. One firm on his chin, keeping him watching Kevin, and the other soft as it slid into his shorts and took him in hand.

Jeremy whined, hips kicking up and then stilling with effort, panting, when Jean squeezed him in warning and shushed him.

“You——-,” Jean continued, lips at his ear. “—— Kevin——.” Jeremy had no doubt in all the brain fog that his eyes were still trained up at Kevin as well. Maybe speaking to both of them. Except he couldn’t understand what Jean was saying. His ability to understand English was escaping him in the tight circle of Jean’s fingers, let alone a language he was still learning.

“What?” Jeremy asked. He wet his lips. Tried to line up thoughts in his head, tried to parse out syllables. “I don’t, I can’t…” Breathed hard, vision blurry and skin buzzing.

“I said, you were perfect,” Jean repeated patiently. In English that time, meeting him halfway. “Show Kevin how good you are.”

Jeremy nodded tightly, all his blood rushing hot at the praise. He swallowed through his throat thick with misuse, trying not to close his eyes as Jean’s hand moved firm and steady on his cock. He was so hard it almost hurt, feeling his pulse against Jean’s palm.

“Kev,” Jeremy hissed, jerked—shook hard at how tight Jean’s hold on him was and how he couldn’t.

Didn’t know what he couldn’t, only that it was true and Kevin was still watching them with wonderment and awe from under drooping eyelids.

Something victorious surged in Jeremy’s gut; heat spiked, need clenched and dragged him under as his head fell back onto Jean’s shoulder.

When the murky fog cleared from his vision, when he could hear more than his own harsh breathing, when the golden glow of satisfaction ebbed from his veins until it was merely a comfort, Jeremy focused back on Kevin. Found that in his lost minutes Kevin had slid sideways in his chair, all his muscles loose. Almost asleep, eyes slitted and expression slack with exhausting and relief.

Jean’s hand had stilled, but it was a heavy weight on his twitching thigh.

"Should move him to the couch, at least," Jeremy said, still breathing hard. Slumped back into Jean's chest, his arms, shivering at the hard line of Jean's dick against his back. "Gonna hurt his neck."

"Yes, and then he will be foul and insufferable," Jean mused, disgusted. He hummed, rocking his hips forward slow and hard. "He will fit on the bed. But after, I think, yes?"

"Anything."

[attractthecrows]

Sanemi is trans thanks to the parentified oldest sister -> transman pipeline

Genya is trans thanks to not realizing that he's trans until she's at least in her mid twenties and built like a mack truck

Tengen is trans because he has always viewed gender as her best performance and they don't like being consistent anyways #flashyfluid

Gyomei is not trans because he's always been too goddamn busy to put any thought in that direction. "Am I experiencing Gender? I don't care I've got twelve orphans to feed/a million demons to kill"

[verymuchwowperson]

🏳️‍🌈Happy Pride Month!🏳️‍⚧️

This month's question is themed. Tell me about Steps' orientations. Do they identify differently from how you'd describe them? Has their orientation/attraction changed since their Sidestep era?

helloooo!!! happy pride month to you too cigs!!! hope its been a good one so far :) and thank you for the question! anyway. again i say:

WEARING MY TSHIRT THAT SAYS ASK ME ABOUT MY SIDESTEPS GENDER AND SEXUAL IDENTITIES. IM NORMAL ABOUT THIS. AND SO ARE MY SIDESTEPS. I PROMISE YOU.

Caine:

pt 2 of "their identity is arguably the most complex out of all of my sidesteps and hes figuring None of that out": i would describe him as bisexual, biromantic, demisexual, and the same flavour of aromantic that ortega is (no concept of what romantic attraction actually is so hes open to dating anyone who wants to). they just found out they were bisexual as of retribution and fully believe they have everything about their identity sorted out. all of that is Before i throw the puppet (hark) into the mix because hark is a cis gay man. they really did think they were straight during his sidestep days, having been taught that straight was the default at the farm and finding no reason to stray from that idea (Especially if hes got julia, where dating her reinforced the idea he was straight). being able to compare their own emotions with chen through telepathy, either through learning theyve been harbouring a crush on ricardo for years or learning theyre mutually attracted to chen, was the only way he managed to find out he was bisexual. as for the demisexual aspect of it all, the possibility of being on the ace spectrum kinda had a wrench thrown into it by the assumption that Every regene was ace. because why would the farm program sexual attraction into them???? nobodys having sex any time soon??????? hark experiences sexual attraction with ricardo, but thats because harks human. obviously. the first time he actually feels sexual attraction for his partners will be both a jumpscare and a complete paradigm shift. i cannot stress enough how fucking funny i find this utter mess of a sexuality.

Cyrus:

HEY. HEY REMEMBER THIS.

YEAH WERE ABOUT TO GET INTO SOME FUCKING CONFUSION HERE. he personally enjoys labels because it makes him feel in control of his own identity, and it helps direct peoples perception of him. that being said, he would personally describe himself as pansexual. i, however, cannot pin down his sexuality for the Life of me. is he gay??? bisexual with a preference for men??? a more specific label like omnisexual or abrosexual???? who knows!!!! i dont and at this rate im going to give up trying!!!!!! honestly hes not above taking up the label queer, im just a bit stubborn about this lmao. like his gender though, regardless of the specific label, its something thats stayed very constant throughout the years. so constant, in fact, he may or may not have a Type, and if anybody points that out hed simply vanish from the earth never to be seen again.

Cecilia:

cecilias a lesbian! she has been since her sidestep days. i actually hc that ricardo confessed to her once and she laughed in his face about it. um. sorry ricardo. she may even be some version of aroace, it wouldnt surprise me tbh, but she continues to elude me. if she does turn out on that spectrum, itd be something she already 100% knew and simply chose to leave me in the dark about. cecilia is very confident in her identity. or at least she was, until ace came along and messed everything up. see, while ceci is a lesbian, ace is a straight woman. a straight woman who sleeps with merle abelard. but its cecilias mind in ace, right??? does that mean shes secretly not a lesbian???? (no.) has she been faking it this whole time????? (no.) will mortum hate her forever if he found out????? (no. may hate her forever for other reasons though, considering that betrayed status.) aces attraction throws ceci for a loop a lot of the time, and its one of the reasons shes so uncomfortable in aces body. cecis sexuality is one of the few things she has for herself, an external factor calling that into question is genuinely upsetting. but as her creator who (hopefully) isnt getting tricked this time, i can confirm she is a lesbian whose naturally forward personality simply pushes ace to act on physical attraction.

Chance:

actually???? genuinely the most normal about his sexuality out of all of my sidesteps. she describes herself as bisexual, and i have no notes on it. his problems are a lot more focused on his gender lmfao, she knew from the minute she stepped out of the farm and saw how hot regular ass people could be that she was doomed to forever short-circuit whenever somebody pretty/handsome passed by him on the street. and you know what. good for her.

[confused-stars]

i need to actually remember for my writing that my main hc for why Childe is Like That is that he saw something real and true just once in his life and has been chasing that high ever since despite it being a massively traumatizing experience

kind of like a very weird Lovecraft protagonist

[cleminem24]

heartbreaking: you used to be the cooler older alter of the system but you've stuck around for so long now you're YOUNGER than the system body itself. what the hell.

[moonchild-in-blue]

You know, I'm really really curious to see how post-enlistment BTS is going to sound thematically-wise.

In these past 2/3 years, they all had the chance to get uncomfortably honest and, for lack of a better term, liberal, in the way they explore their own sound, in a way we got to see very little of previously. We got the rapline fleshing out their work, and the vocal line braving into full-fledged solo stuff for the first time.

Hoseok, who keeps refining and pushing the boundaries of his sound. Who found his footing and is making it his own. The boy who was born for the stage finally gets to be on the spotlight as himself, standing on the shoulders of BTS's j-hope but going back to his roots as Hoseok.

Yoongi and Joon, who already have an incredibly rich discography, and are digging deeper into themselves - there's healing, there's catharsis, there's grief for a past self and hope for a new one. Between Yoongi's Suchwita and Joon's work on RPWP, there's a lot of conversations about life as an artist and as an ordinary person, about mental health and identity, the creative process, about leaving your youth behind and coming to terms with adulthood and the loneliness it brings.

Jin, Jimin and Jungkook who have finally ventured into longer bodies of work, who have finally got to explore who they are (as musical artists) outside and beyond the Bangtan umbrella. Jin especially with this upcoming tour and all the entertainment content he's been a part of, and gets to do things his own way.

Tae, who went the other way and invested in his relationships, who showed us more of himself not through music, but through the way he conducts himself with his friends, outside of the stage.

As Bangtan, they have always been very vocal about all of these, but it's the first time they all got to live life aa creatives on their own. There is a newer, better collective understanding of themselves and each other, and a new layer of maturity and transparency, which has been beautiful to witness it unfold.

I'm so very looking forward to see all of this new knowledge and experience being brought into BTS, and how the new chapter will reflect that once they get together again. Personally I feel like the MOTS series was the perfect mesh of their individual identities and sounds (which makes sense since it was the last Big Thing they did pre-covid that wasn't just a compilation of things like Proof. BE was great but had a very distinct sound and purpose under the Covid context), and if their recent solo work is anything to go by, we are going to see a completely new version of BTS that is bound to surpass all we know from them so far.

[coldjustness]

Always remember that Neve Gallus thinks that mages who use magic to do trivial casual tasks (opening doors, lighting candles, torches, fireplaces, etc) are flashy and like to show off. She'd rather light her candles by hand, and I half blame this on her growing up in a non-magic household and the other half is her humble mindset.

However, she makes an exception for ruined fashion and cold coffee.

[shouldprobablybereading]

Officially at the halfway point (well 49%) and so far it’s a lot better than what I expected. I’ve had a lot of fun with days 4 and 5 specifically

Biggest disappointment so far is probably the spiritual realm flashbacks. They’re not bad. But I don’t feel like they reveal enough to be worth how much space they are taking up each. Which is a bit about how I feel overall. It’s using so many words but not effectively. It’s also a bit repetitive so far since all plots points are based on doing essentially the same type of thing over and over.

Which becomes a problem when I’m expecting this to be the last time I see at least a few of these characters. That was expected as it was my main problem with the lost metal. If this is the last 400 pages that I get with the characters then I want them to be at their most interesting. But instead they get split off on 45 different missions and the entire book becomes about describing action scenes

Surprisingly Szeth is actually the best part of his own book so far. He’s never been one of my favorites so I thought his flashbacks would be a bit boring. But no shinovar is deeply fascinating and I’m starting to actually get his character

[coldjustness-archive]

Neve Gallus, nearly crying, while you help her light the lantern for Brom, Rana's partner who she feels responsible for getting killed, because she's so torn up and crushed in guilt over it, and even feels responsible for all the people who have died around her???

[briannysey]

I’ve been so excited to get to this point in my lit of the Harlem Renaissance class!!!

It’s hard to quantify the impact Delany’s work has had on my life. The only piece of his Ive truly read so far is “Aye and Gommorah” which I red in December 2021, weeks before realizing my true gender identity. “Aye…” is a very queer story, and I read it while preparing a submission for the inaugural Delany Fellowship (which I wasnt even longlisted for. Which was more than fair, my work wasnt ready). But that’s when I first seriously encountered Delany’s work.

Delany’s history as a gay writer coming from Harlem and shaking up the Science Fiction world was really important to me. I’d read contemporary queer works (all my followers know how much I love Dickinson’s The Masquerade) but I was less familiar with our history in Science Fiction and family. Delany’s work inspired me to learn more about the history of queer fiction, which prompted my research into vampires that got me the scholarships and awards that moved me fron my beloved community college to my current private 4-year institution.

It was my failure to land that fellowship but my discovery of our history that prompted me to actually go back to school. And Delany’s work being part of the coursework for this specific class is what prompted me to take it and read all the incredible (and incredibly timely) work Ive read this semester.

Anyways Im excited to dig and read more deeply on Delany’s work! Im grateful for the opportunity, and for the material and emotional impact his work has had on me. I also just have? Idk a renewed appreciation of literature because of his works.

[phoenixkaptain]

To be completely honest, I can excuse any writing flaws - plot holes, discrepancies, boring moments, etc - as long as I like the characters.

[coldjustness]

Unless Harding can do stitches I’m 50% sure Neve stitched herself up when she was injured at the ritual at the beginning of the game.

(Let’s also remember she’s fixed herself up before in the book when her arm was slashed open. lady can do old fashion ‘not gonna die’ non-magic methods of helping injuries.

[margindoodles2407]

i. wow. i am. so lonely

[asterbats]

i think for the shitty scorpion family, their entire dynamic is definitely toxic (heh) but also neither dusk nor bruno is an inherently terrible person? its just that they’re a) horrible together longterm as they are and b) people who should not have had kids.