#just the vivid imagery of her killing her actual FAMILY to do what she knows in her gut is right despite how painful it is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dokifluffs · 3 years

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You’re Safe | Sakusa Kiyoomi

Pairing: Kiyoomi X Reader (female)

Genre: MAFIA!AU, dad and husbando tehe, fluffy, action? thriller??

Author’s Note: mafia 🤝 protective 🤝 domestic father figure 🤝 SAKUSA

Warnings: k*lling, blood, vivid imagery, LONG, language

gif from @rivaillerose 🖤

“Y/N,” a husky voice spoke your name, pulling you from your much needed rest as life of being a new mother had been challenging though so far, it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle

“Y/N, darling.”

You groaned in your sleep, not wanting to wake, to leave the warmth that you were so comfortable laying in

The edge of the bed shifted as a weight sat down beside you, making your body move toward the person

You brought yourself to open your eyes as heavy as they were, your vision clearing to find your husband sat beside you, his mask pulled down to his chin

The room was gloomy and gray though the curtains were open, not a bit of sunlight shining through as he looked down to you with gentle eyes

Despite his softer side with you, he was still the head of the clan - and his appearance matched him as well

He donned a black wool overcoat with the same colored turtleneck and mask

“What is it, Omi?” You asked sleepily as he cupped your cheek with his black gloved hand

His black gloves were always an accessory he had on him, whether he was wearing them or not

He had a thing with germs but he also saw no need to get his hands dirty when his men were always there to do the job for him

You nuzzled your face into his touch, very tempted to fall asleep holding him close but as your mind woke up more and more, you remembered what today was

What he had to do, where he had to go

“I’m leaving soon.. I’ll be back in a few days..” he whispered as he moved a strand of your hair from your face

You wanted to pretend you didn’t hear these words, that he never told you he had to leave or when he did

A part of you wished he left without telling you but an even greater part was so grateful that he woke you

“Do you really have to go again?” You squeezed his gloved hand as you sat yourself up straighter

“You know how my father is... He wants to make sure things are... under control.. I promise I’ll be back in two days.”

The way he spoke, the words fell so effortlessly from those lips, his voice low and cutting through the space yet he spoke at a volume as if he was telling you a great secret

“You said that last time and he kept you with him for a couple weeks...” you thought back to that time

You were seven months pregnant, almost eight, at the time and it was like he fell off the face of the earth

You couldn’t go anywhere or do anything but reside in the manor and you couldn’t even talk to him

You were alone again

“Don’t go...”

the nights in bed alone, the cramps, emotional rollercoasters, motion sickness, nausea

You at least wished he could have called you

The nightmares you had, the worst case scenarios playing in your head until you woke up with tears streaming down your face, only for you to cry yourself silently back to sleep as fear pooled and plagued you from within

He could see the sadness in your eyes and he could remember vividly the mental torture he was put under

No communication to you and all he could at most to see you was through the hidden cameras all connected to his phone

Even checking in on you had to be done in secret, all to make sure that he was strong enough to continue on the family business even if he had to lose you or be away for unpredictable amounts of time

It was unbearable then and it was still unbearable now

He never asked to grow up into the business of the underworld, let alone take it over from his father at the prime age of 20 four years ago

He never wanted your life to be taken away when you two had already been together when he was recruited

“I’m sorry, darling, but you know I have to,” he sighed. “You know how my father is.” He cupped your cheek and kissed your temple then lips before he stood

“Am I going to lose you?” Your voice broke the silence, breaking through the white sound of the downpour outside

But you had stopped your question early

“Am I going to lose you today? Tomorrow? One day?”

He stood frozen in his place before he could reach for the knob

“No, Y/N. You won’t.” His eyes paused for a bit on you as he thought about his response, the fatigue of being a mother was already showing. “I’ll be able to call you this time and I’m the head now. The only title my father has to me now is father.”

“You won’t.” He stepped back over to you leaned down to kiss you again. “Not today at least…”

“I’ll call you at supper time, darling. Have a good day.”

You did your best to hold onto his hand as long as you could, to remember his touch, his voice, his scent, the way he looked before he walked out those doors

Because some days or nights, you never truly know if you would ever see him again

And it terrified you

The sound of the rain only seemed to get more intense now that he was gone and you were here

But now your day was beginning now that you were awake

You slipped out of the king sized bed, leaving the warmth you had slept in as the soft carpet at your feet, your toes sinking into the fibers

Brushing your teeth, showering in the grand bathroom of the manor, it was a life you surely never expected but here you were

Kiyoomi’s father and his entire family had built their name from nothing to the global known corporation that it was today

You dried your body off, finding what to wear today through the walk in closet and once that was found, it was breakfast

“Good morning, madam, shall I bring you your breakfast to the master suite?” Your right hand maid had greeted you as you stepped out as she carried the laundry with her

“Oh, thank you, Olivia, but I’ll head down to the kitchen after waking D/N,” you smiled to the older maid that had worked for the Sakusa family for decades

All the staff that worked and lived in the estates on the property outside of the manor were trained security, men and women, whose jobs were to protect the main family, to serve them, and to keep others who would pose a threat away and out, even if it meant killing them

But you always tried not to think or wonder about how many people these staff have killed or beat up or anything whenever you interacted with them, especially when they greeted you with a smile

They were there to protect you and to make sure that nothing and no would would ever harm your life

You stepped into the nursery, the wide room decorated with warm lights and stuffed animals, some more than twice the size of your daughter

“Hi,” you smiled so brightly seeing your baby’s eyes already open, looking up to you as she sat in her crib, holding onto her blankie. “Good morning precious,” you lowered the front gate of the crib so you could kneel down to her level

Sakusa sat in the limousine as he watched the scene of you and your daughter in the nursery, wishing he could just turn the car around and to stay home

Things were in balance, he knew this already but his father’s orders were orders he still had to respect

He clicked off his phone, tucking the device into his pocket as he was to be in the car for quite a bit of time before he would get to his father’s

The biggest smile spread on her face as she laughed seeing you, her bubbliness seeming to make all the gloominess disappear

“Let’s get you changed~” you chimed as you lifted the baby girl into your arms, getting a whiff of her heavy diaper and finding an outfit for her day

“Olivia?” You called into the custom intercom by the nursery’s closet, though there was practically one in every room

“Yes, madam?”

“Sorry for troubling you, but could you actually bring breakfast for D/N and I up to the upstairs loft? You could even send it up the dumbwaiter and that’s fine too.”

“Of course, would you like the usual?”

“Yes please, thank you.”

You carried your little girl toward the upstairs loft, one of your favorite areas of the house since it was significantly smaller - well almost - than the living room downstairs

The loft didn’t extend all the way downstairs like how the ground floor’s living room ceiling extended to the second floor

More than ten thousand square feet of property, more rooms in the manor than you knew what to do with them

Four guest bedrooms with full bathrooms, a grand study and two story “little” library, two main bedrooms in addition to the master bedroom and a nursery

So much space, all sorts of technologies, gadgets and gizmos of all sorts in the house

All the systems in the house was made by the Sakusa corporation to ensure security

This even included your and Kiyoomi’s custom made phones

There was also the basement- all sorts of fun activities to be done: a pool, pool table, living room area that opened up to the backyard with the bar and barbecue, the fire pit

and finally, there was the cellar that was the only place Kiyoomi had requested that you never go - and you never did

You knew that look in his eye, that tone of voice and you knew he had requested this for your best

And most importantly, there were three safe rooms, all three upstairs with hidden entryways to protect you, official guests, and anyone in the family

Before you knew it, Olivia had made her way upstairs with the breakfast as you played with your daughter in the loft, bouncing her on your lap sat on the wide couch

The loft was brightly lit and open, toys of all types for your daughter to play with as the TV played the morning kids show

As filled as the house was with the special staff and things to do, it still felt so lonely and empty as you sat there

You had tried to chat and converse with them but they never loosened up, always keeping all the formalities but it was never any use

The storm outside seemed to be getting worse as your eyes gazed to the horizon, spotting the trees at the edge of the estate where all their branches had been swaying in the wind, the paler, underside of their leaves revealed

Thunder began to rumble in the distance with the occasional flash of lightning but both unbothered your daughter and you as the two of you remained in the loft

You watched as she rolled about on a blanket, playing with her stuffed animals and the other interactive toys that played music to keep her entertained while you watched the TV, finding nothing remotely as entertaining to watch

But just before you could change the channel to yet another disappointing channel, your attention was pulled to your phone vibrating beside you, your eyes lighting up as you saw the caller ID

“You seem so bored,” Kiyoomi’s deep voice sounded through the phone but he spoke the truth

You were tired and bored but you didn’t want to sleep - it would only make you unable to sleep later tonight anyways

“I am,” you sighed as you muted the TV. “How far out have you gone?”

“Actually, not too far. Only about half an hour since there was a major accident on the highway so we had to take a detour. But traffic is terrible so we were stuck for quite a bit before we could actually exit,” Sakusa almost groaned thinking about the terrible accident

How he was stuck in a single place for practically twenty minutes

“Wow, do you know what happened?”

“Well there was a…” his voice drowned out in your ears as you could hear something that didn’t sound like rain or thunder - they were too distinctly different

Loud bangs echoed in the distance, bringing your attention elsewhere though all you could look was outside the wall window to the dark skies

But you couldn’t see anything except the normal background of the property but it was just silent again with the white noise of rain washing down the glass, followed by thunder and a flash of lightning as the storm brewed closer and closer

“I’m sorry what? I missed what you said... I think I heard… something weird..” you spoke as you looked outside the windows that looked to the back of the property

You could hear echoes of movement downstairs, the bustling business of the special staff in the house but it sounded standard... or so you thought

“What did you hear?”

“..I don’t know.. maybe it was the storm and I’m just distracted...” you smiled into the phone as you spoke while your daughter happily crawled to you, laying her head on your legs, her puffy cheeks round as ever

“Well, you two were my only source of entertainment so far this trip,” the corner of his lips curled as he picked off small specks off his suit

“That makes one… of us-“ your thought died out in a matter of seconds

You heard louder, clearer bangs while the staff that had been stationed with you just outside the loft talked over their ear coms to another elsewhere

Before you could continue your sentence or call, the bangs only got louder and your body reacted faster than you could say or think

Clear gunshots began firing at the front entrance, echoing off the high walls and ceilings of the manor while the staff worked on securing the doors and all other entrances and possible ones

“Y/N?” Sakusa could only hear the subtle commotion happening but it was clear you weren’t on the phone. “Shit shit shit..” he stayed on the line as he changed to the security cameras he had access to he used to watch you and your guys’ daughter

Looking through the camera surveillance, he caught a glimpse of you disappearing with your phone in hand while your arms carried your daughter as you disappeared toward the bedroom

“Turn back now,” Kiyoomi howled as his driver did just that, not wasting a single second

You ran into the master suite’s walk in closet that led to the entryway of one of the safe rooms, your baby girl in your arms as she held on to you her whines already beginning before they would turn into cries

“Shh, it’s okay, baby, mama’s gonna protect you,” you smiled, whispering, your voice already shaky, lips trembling as you pressed a little kiss to the top of her head. “Even if it costs my life, precious.”

You moved, leaving the master suite and stayed low as you walked across the “bridge” that connected the loft to the other half of the house

Peeking down, you could hear groans of agony, puddles and splashes of of blood on the floor and walls, empty bullet shells on the ground, shards of glass and broken windows

“Search the house, find that bitch,” a deep voice yelled through the manor as for the first time since the loud bangs happened, it sounded so still, like any normal rainy day

But this was far from normal

You crawled across the marble flooring toward the library

There wasn’t any safe room here but the safe rooms were sure to be where they would look, whoever they were

They were able to get through the security, it seemed like the staff was dead

You silently stood as they scoured the lower levels - you could hear them and all the destruction they were havocking

The cars outside the window blurred into mere colors that passed as the limousine sped through the roads back towards the manor

To save time, they went toward the back roads — it was just the slightest bit longer but time could be shaved down since there were no cars anywhere

“Step on it!” Sakusa commanded as his men readied themselves. “Call in Unit 0,” he demanded as he kept his eyes on the cameras, trying to find you yet he couldn’t see you in the master suite’s safe room

Unit 0 being one of the few very highly trained professional assassins and killers who were at the disposal of the Sakusa family whenever needed

He scoured through the cameras, not even caring about all the destruction being done, all he needed to see was where you and your daughter were

You carefully entered the library, shutting the door behind you as you walked over the wooden floors carefully

Every step made your palms sweaty but your heart stopped after hearing a loud creak in the old floors

The worst part was that there was no way to lock the doors

outside of the door, you couldn’t hear too much but you could still clearly hear the storm as a great big window stretched from the floor to ceiling so all the lighting in here was natural

There was something about the walls surrounding the library that made it sound proof in a sense

You constantly bounced your baby girl in your arms to keep her calm as you tried to get a look outside as you approached one of the corners toward the window

“Search upstairs,” one of the men demanded as a handful of men ran upstairs. “Find her.”

The scoured through all the rooms, flipping every room apart, destroying things, tearing the curtains off, flipping the beds, wrecking the nursery

You peeked out the window that faced the front of the manor yet all you could see were broken things and to your horror, more lifeless bodies of the manor’s staff

But before you could look out any longer, a large rock was launched at the window, breaking the glass, shattering it

Your baby girl let out a loud cry in fear, making your heart drop

“No, D/N, shhhh, please, it’ll be okay, we’ll be okay.” You quickly pulled open the latch to the library’s hidden passage where the door was one of the bookcases

As soon as you closed the bookcase, you heard the door to the library burst open

Several men, guns ready

You scanned your finger print for the room to be safely locked however it wouldn’t let you. All you could do to make sure the room was locked was to see your body to keep the door shut and still

They walked through the wide open doorway to the library scanning the two open floors that was connected by two black steel staircases that wound their way up and down, connecting the two floors

“Shh, please,” you whimpered to your daughter as she cried into your chest as you stayed by the passage’s door so you could look out the peephole

They pulled books off the shelves, throwing them from the second level to the first, knocking the paintings off the walls, ripping them by sliding their knives through the canvas’, kicking them, breaking the frames

The ground shook as you heard a a loud boom, making you jump in your spot, the ground rumbling and shaking below where you sat

It sounded like a bomb went off on the lower level but you assumed it was the cars in the garage since you could hear the repeating alarm sounding off

Your daughters cries began to start back up at the loud noise, as you did your best to shush her

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you whispered to her as you wiped her tears, keeping her face to your chest as you stroked your trembling hand down her back as tears trickled down your cheeks and dripped off your chin

The limousine slid on the gravel outside the manor as Sakusa’s men sprang to action from the vehicle

Kiyoomi stayed in his seat, continuously scouring through the cameras but you were yet to be found

He couldn’t find a single trace of you

His men, as well as unit 0, entered through the blown open entrance, broken shards of glass crunching beneath their steps as they surrounded the estate the best they could, splitting up to eliminate the intruders

“Where are you, Y/N?” His heart hammered in his chest as he desperately tried to find you yet nothing

But before he could look any further, his heart dropped seeing the red system failure message. Whoever these people were, they were impressive, but not fast enough

Kiyoomi now meant business now that he had no access to actually see if you were okay

He ran out of the limousine as gunshots could be heard all throughout the house as half his men made their way to the upper level while the other half wiped out the intruders on the lower level

He followed behind unit 0, making their way upstairs

He clung onto his gun tightly in his hand, finger ready on the trigger as he barged into the master suite, firing two bullets into the chest and head of a large man as he was pillaging the closets

All the precious jewelry he bought for you were now stained in the pool of the filthy blood of the man who had the audacity to enter the premises

His heart almost dropped seeing him in the closet in the first place but it didn’t seem like the man noticed the entrance to the safe room behind the clothes on the hangers

As he pushed the luxurious wardrobe aside opening the door and to his fear, you were nowhere to be seen

More gunshots sounded off, echoing through the halls, sounding off the walls

He couldn’t focus, his thoughts incoherent, unfinished sentences running in his head as he just ran, killing those in his way to find you

A gun war was going off throughout the library as Sakusa’s men fired at the intruders on both levels but they had great firepower too

Both sides hid behind the marble pillars, the different bookshelves and furniture in the room as the rain showered in

Your baby girl cried loudly, her shaken cries sounding off throughout the passage

“No, no, no, please, baby.” Your heart raced as you dared to look out the peephole, only for it to drop as you saw a man you didn’t recognize yell something to another man near him

The man he yelled to fired more shots while the other one approached the passage entrance, banging noises coming through the bookshelf

“She’s in here! Hold them off!” The man yelled

“No, no, no.” Tears welled in your eyes as you did your best to keep the door closed but there was no actual way to since this was just a simple passageway

Your daughter cried loudly in your arms while you gave it your all to keep the door closed

Amongst all the shots being fired, Kiyoomi heard the words the man yelled and then it clicked

He knew where you were

“No.” This one word repeated in his head as he pushed through the front, racing past the bullets being shot towards him as he ran on pure adrenaline

“Boss, no!” His men yelled but this only got the intruders to focus on him, giving them the opening to shoot them all

Kiyoomi shot the man closer to him in the legs before letting his body move on pure killer instinct as he grabbed the man who had fallen to his knees by his jaw, snapping his neck

The other man changed his focus to Kiyoomi as he stood to his feet while the other struggled to pull his gun from his holster

Kiyoomi towered over him as his body moved on his own

He kicked the man to the wall, pressing the barrel of his gun to the man’s chin, pulling the trigger without a second thought

You squeeze your eyes shut, facing the other way from the door, bracing yourself

“I love you. Mama loves you, baby,” you whispered as you cried, a loud rumbling filling your ears as you felt the door being forced open

This was it

You were going to die

Your daughter was doing to die

you let out a blood curtling scream feeling the hands of whoever grab onto you, pulling you, kicking your legs to try to fight

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Kiyoomi’s familiar voice sounded louder and louder over the rumbling you heard in your ears from clenching and bracing your body and your daughter’s

“It’s me, It’s just me!” He soothed you as he turned you

You couldn’t explain or even begin to describe the relief you felt wash through your body, your heart racing and slowing down at the same time as you broke down, your cries mixing with your daughter’s

“You’re safe, I’m here,” Kiyoomi pulled you into his arms, your body shaking terribly in his arms as you cried into his chest, all the fear you felt flooding your senses

“I know, I’m sorry this happened, but you’re okay. Everything will be okay,” he whispered as he pulled you into his lap, keeping the passage door somewhat closed

You were already put through enough today and he didn’t need you to see the second degree murder crime scene he had committed right outside

“I’m here, I’m here.” He reached up and pulled his mask off as he kissed the top of your head all over, wiping away your tears with his thumbs but you couldn’t stop crying

But that was entirely fine

“But Y/N,” he held your face in his bare hands, his normal gloves off as he stroked his thumb over your cold, damp cheeks

“Why didn’t you go into the safe rooms, darling?” His own voice was unsteady, his lips quivered, eyes teary. “I looked for you and I couldn’t find you and I thought I lost you..” His voice broke off as he gathered himself the best he could, taking deep breaths

Seeing Kiyoomi like this, it broke your heart even more

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what… I was just scared and- and-“ It hurt you so much

Everything about today did

But just this moment was Kiyoomi, it also touched you

He was such a stoic man, usually one to show a softer, affectionate side with you but this was the first time you saw him shed tears

A man who had taken so many lives was now showing his true emotions for the two lives he would give his own live for a hundred times over if it meant you and your daughter was okay

“I know, I know, but you’re safe,” he let out a deep, relieving breath as he hugged your head closer, your body shaking uncontrollably in his arms

“And hey, shhh, it’s okay baby. Papa’s here.” He stroked your daughter’s head as she sort of calmed down as the two of you sat together, doing your best as parents to shoo away her sadness while his men did their best to first and foremost clear the bodies and blood

You absolutely did not need to see that after today

“You two are both safe.” He breathed as he pulled you two impossibly closer, letting the shakiness of his own heart disperse

“You’re safe…”

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

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astridthevalkyrie · 3 years

Note

Do you think AOT is better than FMAB?

sorry not sorry for the blunt answer but no, never, not in a million years, not even close, not for a number of reasons.

few reasons under the cut, because apparently I’m doing this instead of focusing in class. obviously there will be spoilers for both shows, and obviously some of this will be based on personal preference.

1. Genocide/Oppression

so both shows have some vivid imagery of nazi germany. bradley is addressed as the fuhrer in fmab, and the eldians wear stars on their sleeves in aot. and even if the aot writer wasn’t pretty much confirmed to be a nationalist and raging anti-semite, it’s rather painfully obvious which show handles it better.

in aot, the eldians are oppressed because they can turn into titans and were originally trying to take over the world or something, which is so blatantly anti-semitic that it’s terrible. shows are allowed to tackle these kinds of topics, but they should handle them well, not be a stand in for nazi propaganda. this is something so many fucking shows do wrong whenever they make an oppressed group of people - there’s always somehow a reason for having them be oppressed. take bbc merlin. wizards are oppressed because they can do magic and so they’re dangerous, just like how eldians can turn into titans and so they’re dangerous, and that’s a bad thing to imply, because it implies that jewish people somehow deserved what happened to them and that’s a fucking dangerous idea to put into an already anti-semitic world.

and that’s exactly why i was so relieved and appreciative of how fmab did the battle of ishval. it is clear who the bad guys are in that scenario, and it’s clear that it was never deserved and that the soldiers who carried it out are war criminals and deserve to be put into jail. riza says as much herself. while i think scar shouldn’t have been as guilted as he was (sure, he shouldn’t go after innocent people, but him killing winry’s parents is not comparable to what happened to him and doesn’t put all of them on equal footing), i was pleasantly surprised that he lived and wasn’t killed off in some stupid form of “redemption.” if roy deserved to live, so did scar, a hundred times over.

2. Characters

characters in fmab are done ridiculously better than in aot. let’s compare similar characters!

edward and eren - the protagonists

up until the third season onwards, eren is very one dimensional and uninteresting. he’s entertaining, but his one and only goal is killing the titans and it’s super frustrating because they lay down the groundwork for more, but it’s never really addressed. show more how he cares about his friends, show him dealing with his trauma through anger and how it’s unhealthy. (actually, a lot of problems could be fixed if they showed more of the cadets’ training days. i feel like i wasn’t feeling as betrayed by annie and reiner and bertholdt because i never really felt they were that close to eren.)

ed is a delightful main character. he too is angry and doesn’t mind talking with his fists, but at the same time, he’s starchly against killing anyone and has multiple goals. ofc his primary one is getting their bodies back, but when he finds himself in the conspiracy about amestris, he doesn’t hesitate before making that his problem as well. every relationship he has is wonderful. i could get bored with eren on the screen, i wasn’t bored with ed.

armin and alphonse - the deuteragonists

i’m sorry but armin is literally just “the smart one.” that’s it. he’s also the dreamer but it only comes up when they’re about to do something dangerous.

i feel like i don’t even need to go into how good of a character al is? he’s very obviously multifaceted and the epitome of sweet and badass at the same time.

winry and mikasa - the love intests-ish

i don’t like referring to either of them like that, but while mikasa is the tritagonist (or deuteragonist, her and armin can interchange there), winry is not.

and surprise, surprise, this is actually where i’m not so sure winry comes out on top. mikasa is, in my opinion, the most interesting out of the trio. she also has a very single-minded goal, but seeing her interact with other characters (armin, jean, levi) who either fall in line or disagree with that goal is fun to watch. she’s also obviously super competent and i have a thing for competent characters.

winry is a good character and i love her, but it’s always bothered me how out of place her scenes feel in relation to the entire show. and as much as i know it doesn’t deter her agency, there’s just something off about ed telling her to have an apple pie waiting for them. it actually brings in one of my few problems with fmab. while its female are pretty good, they’re far from perfect, and that’s because nearly all of them exist because of their relation to the more important male character. winry is ed’s mechanic and the elrics’ family friend. riza is roy’s lieutenant. lan fan is ling’s bodyguard. izumi is the elrics’ teacher. i’m not saying that’s all they are, but this is a major part of their role in the story (olivier and mei stand out as female characters with goals relating to themselves and not a guy around them.)

so who’s the better character? mikasa is more fierce and winry has better lines that aren’t just calling out the protag’s name. i’m gonna give it to winry, but by a short shot.

roy and levi - the op fan favorites

this one’s much easier. roy is not just a badass who’s also the hero’s direct superior like levi is, he’s a person with clearcut goals and weaknesses and he has to make sacrifices and work for what he wants. levi has all the makings for a great character, a tragic backstory and a chill personality, but he doesn’t have a reason to stay in the scouts, he just...does. out of loyalty to erwin, i guess? it’s not clear and it’s even worse if you don’t watch the ova. roy’s reasons are clear and relatable. he also has a dorky and endearing side, plus the political side of things he brings to fmab is interesting and an equally important part of the story. his fight with envy is satisfying and thrilling. levi’s fight with the beast titan, while it is super well animated and cool, kiiiinda falls flat because there was no set-up for him being the one to take the beast titan down (should have been connie). it also ends a bit too fast, honestly.

but hey, you say, aren’t you the one writing 15k worth of fanfiction for levi within two weeks? didn’t see you writing that much for roy. yeah, well, unfortunately, my attraction doesn’t determine the better character and i never said i was proud of this, please leave me alone.

there’s more comparisons i could make - carla and trisha, hohenheim and grisha (ha, trisha and grisha rhyme), roy can also be compared to erwin, there’s multple side characters, but fmab wins, you guys get it.

3. The Story, Plot, Deaths

listen, i get it. aot is a bloody, brutal show and you’re not supposed to get attached to characters. i’m not gonna complain about pointless deaths, because that in itself is the point. it’s like twd or got, it’s gonna have lots of death. but the deaths don’t have to be so stupid. i’m specifically thnking of levi’s squad, because the way they die is so dumb. gunther should not be taken down by a cadet, petra shouldn’t be flying so close to the ground, oluo should know not to engage the female titan alone. these were elite titan killers, they knew not to be stupid. there were ways to kill them off without making them look so stupid. and if there’s not, consider not killing them off just for shock value.

fmab’s deaths mean something, especially since one of its central messages is that life is precious, no matter whose it is. everyone’s life means something and no one dies in vain.

there’s more i could go into, but i just spent my entire classtime doing this and now my second one for the day is about to start, sooo i think i’ll stop here. thanks for the ask!

#fmab #anti aot #anti fmab #at some parts #aot is anti-semitic please be careful when watching it and think about the media you're consuming

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onlythebrave-91 · 3 years

Text

Analysis of “champagne problems” by Taylor Swift

I love champagne problems so much and I think about the lyrics all the time so I thought I would write out my thoughts on it.

Verse 1:

You booked the night train for a reason

So you could sit there in this hurt

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers

You're not sure which is worse

The song opens with vivid imagery of a train station. She poses a good question, when you're heartbroken, would you rather be in a crowd of people or alone with your thoughts?

Chorus:

Because I dropped your hand while dancing

Left you out there standing

Crestfallen on the landing

Champagne problems

The chorus opens with one of Taylor’s most frequent metaphors, a comparison of love to dancing. She has used this metaphor numerous times since her first album fifteen years ago but she somehow keeps coming up with inventive ways to reimagine it. Here, she uses it to describe the moment the woman rejected the proposal. He thought she would say yes, but she rejected him, leaving him without a dance partner.

She also uses beautiful imagery to describe the proposal. Details have always been one of the greatest strengths of Taylor’s writing. The more detailed she gets, the more powerful and universally relatable her music seems to be. “Your heart was glass, I dropped it” pulls the image together perfectly and makes you feel like you're standing right there, watching his face as he realizes that he’s losing her.

Verse 2:

You told your family for a reason

You couldn't keep it in

Your sister splashed out on the bottle

Now no one's celebrating

This verse reveals how sure he was that she would say "yes". He told his friends and family and brought champagne to celebrate. It also reveals more about their relationship- how well did he really know her if he didn’t even realize how much she was struggling? Why was he so sure she would say "yes"?

Chorus 2:

Dom Pérignon, you brought it

No crowd of friends applauded

Your hometown skeptics called it

Champagne problems

You had a speech, you're speechless

Love slipped beyond your reaches

And I couldn't give a reason

Champagne problems

This song addresses the fact that we often don’t acknowledge mental illness for what it is. We like to avoid topics that make us uncomfortable so when we talk about people with mental illnesses we often use euphemisms like “crazy” or “psycho” which dehumanizes and belittles people. In this case, the people in her hometown say she has “champagne problems”.

Bridge:

Your Midas touch on the Chevy door

November flush and your flannel cure

"This dorm was once a madhouse"

I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"

How evergreen, our group of friends

Don't think we'll say that word again

And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls

That we once walked through

One for the money, two for the show

I never was ready, so I watch you go

Sometimes you just don't know the answer

'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

"She would've made such a lovely bride

What a shame she's stuck in her head, " they said

But you'll find the real thing instead

She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

Taylor is known for writing brilliant bridges and this is easily one of, if not the, best bridge she has ever written. The imagery, the metaphors, the alliteration, the allusions, all come together into perfect storytelling.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door": In Greek mythology, Midas turned everything he touched into gold. Although this made him rich, he quickly realized that turning things to gold was a lot more trouble than it was worth. In the end, he tragically turns his daughter to gold, killing her. One of Taylor’s common motifs is using the colours red, blue, and gold, to represent different types of relationships. Typically, a golden relationship is a happy one. But in this case, she is saying that their love is falsely happy. A Chevy made of gold certainly wouldn't work very well. Their love appears golden, but ultimately it doesn't function the way it should. In champagne problems, the man sees his partner as better off than she actually is. She is struggling, but he only sees the parts of her he wants to see.

"November flush and your flannel cure": This is one of my favourite lyrics of the whole song. It has attention-grabbing alliteration and vivid imagery. It’s a creative reimagining of the cliche rom-com moment where the guy gives the girl his jacket to keep her warm. It shows that their relationship wasn’t all bad. Even though she may not be emotionally in the right place to get married, she sees him as a good man who cared for her.

"This dorm was once a madhouse"/I made a joke, "Well it's made for me". We've all made a self-deprecating joke at one time or another and this conversational line makes the narrator feel more real and relatable.

"How evergreen, our group of friends/Don't think we'll say that word again": This is the first time in the song where she uses plural pronouns, “our” and “we”. She’s acknowledging that their relationship is over now and they will no longer be doing things together.

"And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls/That we once walked through": As much as this breakup is devastating to them, the world keeps turning and soon enough their friends will keep living their lives normally. Earlier in the song, she said, “Your heart was glass, I dropped it”. After something that devastating happens to a person, it's hard to believe that the world keeps going, but it does.

"One for the money, two for the show/I never was ready, so I watch you go": This line comes from a nursery rhyme. In full the rhyme is "One for the money, Two for the show; Three to make ready, And four to go."

It is traditionally used to mark the beginning of a race or game. This is a really clever way of saying that she wasn't ready to get married.

"'She would've made such a lovely bride/What a shame she's stuck in her head,' they said": This line ties back to the idea that people often use crude or dehumanizing language to refer to people with mental illness. This adds to her loneliness, she doesn't have anyone in her life who properly respects her. Their friends and "hometown skeptics" see it as her fault that their relationship ended without acknowledging that her partner didn't recognize how much she was struggling.

Chorus 3 and Outro:

And hold your hand while dancing

Never leave you standing

Crestfallen on the landing

With champagne problems

Your mom's ring in your pocket

Her picture in your wallet

You won't remember all my

Champagne problems

You won't remember all my

Champagne problems

"But you'll find the real thing instead/She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred/And hold your hand while dancing/Never leave you standing/Crestfallen on the landing/With champagne problems": As we return to the dancing metaphor, we see that she hopes her partner will find someone someday who can treat him better than she can. She repeats the same description of the proposal as before, this time with the pronouns "she" and "her" instead of "I" and "my". It also shows that the reason she rejected him may not be just because she doesn't feel ready for marriage, but also that she feels insecure. She doesn't feel like she's enough for him.

#taylorswift #taylor #evermore #literary analysis #lyrics #champagne problems

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lostandsearching · 3 years

Note

Hey

Told you I'd be back

First of all - Did someone hurt you? Because between the endings of 'Piece Of Me' & 'The Abyss Calls' it really seems like you like to kill R off (I know you've turned 'The Abyss Calls' into a series now but still...) Like, are you ok? Do I need to call someone?

'Piece Of Me' - the way you wrote Wanda was so good, all her insecurities (which are valid and made it all the more heartbreaking during my 2nd read through) were incorporated so well

From the beginning you show just how protective R is of Nat with the way she threatens Wanda...

["You're both part of the family now, we protect family"] & ["I'm pretty sure I'd give you anything you asked for"] - oof if Wanda could fall any harder she just did

Wanda and R are so cute

But alas people on this site just like to keep breaking my heart... The continuation of the relationship in Wanda's coma and the inevitable angst ending... I swear I don't have a heart anymore from all the pain from these stories...

I'm still holding out for a part 2 (wishful thinking) for 'Piece Of Me' where R didn't actually die and she was buried in the rubble where Hydra found her first with no memories and they turn her into a weapon (just putting that out there)

'The Abyss Calls' - I liked the way the memories were written into the story and the whole thing... Just so good... It's so beautifully written - the imagery of the heart with the thorns throughout the story and the way you used it at the end - so good... The references to Icarus (even at one point where you compare Wanda and Nat to Aphrodite and Athena to keep in line with the Greek mythology thing you have going) - still just so... good...!

The fact that Wanda is the one who instigates the relationship makes it hurt all that much more when she ends it, R was happy with just having a friendship with her

Wanda breaking R and the downward spiral - ouch.

["The emptiness is a vivid representation of the state of your heart as pain dances within, cloyingly."] & ["...you just want the pain to ripped away from you just as your heart had once been."] &["...she grips you tightly hoping to keep together what’s left of you until she can help you put yourself back together..."] - These lines! So good

I'm expecting the next chapter to start off with something like "but the world is cruel and you not so lucky when you wake up to a room too bright to open your eyes..."

Looking forward to the next chapter

- M

Well....OK this is a lot to unpack and my sleep deprived arse won't let me sleep until I answer this so here we go!

The Abyss Calls was always a series but due to the content of the story I wasn't sure I was gonna release it as one, I already had the 4 songs set for the chapters while I took a break, still stuck on the 5th. If you've got the speed dial to whoever created mankind and can ask them where my sanity went, that would be great!

With 'Piece of Me', the way I see it, this story is set before the Lagos mission and this loss of R was the reason that Nat and Wanda began to rely on each other more and what had established Wanda and Vision's friendship. R may have died but at least they had a each other and a piece of R with them forever. I see that as a win :)

The Abyss Calls, I have a thing for Greek Myth so I wove it into the story lol. If people can tell me about Greek Myth, I think it's hot af.

With chapter 2, It's called The Ghost of Me and the summary is -

"Natasha had found Y/N on the brink of death, rallying to try and save her life. How does she cope with the loss and what does the future have in store for the ex-assassin as she lives with the phantom of her best-friend? Will the ramifications of Y/N’s thoughtless action push Natasha into the depths of despair?"

Make of that what you will hehe.

Most of all, that fact that you read through Piece of Me twice makes me smile and that you enjoyed both fics so much really makes posting them worth it. To know that people enjoy the worlds my mind creates as much as I do is always nice to hear so thank you for the kind words and for sharing your thoughts with me :D

Now I'm off to try to sleep. Thank you for the lovely ask!

#lost's asks #anon m

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overheardatthecontinental · 3 years

Text

Talk Chapter 15

AO3 Link

Thank you @meetmeinthematinee for reading it over for me once again before I posted this chapter. You are very much appreciated <3 :)

Lorenzo had agreed. Miraculously, the head of the family determined they would all participate. In exchange for John’s testimony and the promise that the Syndicate would be up for grabs once Mateo and DeLuca were removed from the picture.

John goes over the overarching plan, allowing Lorenzo to interject.

He finds himself more than willing to let Lorenzo take control, so long as they both get what they want.

Santino would be the first to disappear. John was already there and had been seen by Santino’s entourage. When word of his death reached the Underworld, there would be half a dozen witnesses to say the last man who saw him alive was John Wick.

Word would reach DeLuca before John even sent him the photo evidence.

But that meant Santino couldn’t stay in New York. Too many people had access to Santino’s penthouse. And Lorenzo didn’t trust his son to not blow their cover by getting bored and posting on social media. John had to agree, although he didn’t like it.

He liked Ares suggestion even less.

Santino goes with you, she signs, I’ll stay here to tell his death. Then, I can take Gianna from the city and find you.

He’s loathe to agree but that could work .

Gianna’s ‘death’ would be next, after all. Lorenzo agreed to inform his daughter of the plan that evening when they were set to attend a banquet. There, they would be given the news of Santino’s untimely demise and immediately adjourn.

Ares would stay behind to get Gianna and drive her from the city, where her death could also be staged.

DeLuca would see the D’Antonio’s dropping and think himself nearly victorious. Friday morning, he would stage Lorenzo’s death and bring DeLuca the results.

He’s so fucking close. He longs to finish it all, but he can’t rush this. It might set DeLuca off.

He has to follow the plan.

Starting with Santino.

Faking Santino’s death turns into a fucking mess . Santino spends more than an hour going from room to room to choose the best background in which to fake his death. The kitchen, he explains, was undignified. As was the bathroom. The hallway was plebian . The game room juvenile .

After an hour, he returns to the kitchen where John waits while Ares pours red food coloring into a mixing bowl, along with corn syrup and a powdery substance. Somehow, he get’s the idea that it’s not the first time she’s pulled something like this.

“I want to be killed in the library.” Santino announces.

Ares nearly chokes as she starts to laugh, a hand on the counter to support herself. Even John is taken aback at the request.

“ You ,” John confirms, “want to be killed in the library?”

“What do you mean you?” Santino repeats, “I read.”

Ares, who had begun to recover, loses it again.

“I do!”

John looks away from Ares, fighting a smile, “What’s wrong with the living room?”

“You wish me to die on a couch ?” Santino sounds disgusted at the very thought.

Unbelievable.

“Library it is.” John sighs. They’re probably all overthinking it.

“Good. I’ll go throw some books about.”

“Why?”

“So it looks like I put up a fight.”

John spares a glance to Ares. The younger assassin is really struggling to hold it together and John can’t blame her.

“I wouldn’t give you the opportunity for a fight.”

Santino huffs, “So I am supposed to do nothing?”

“If I was actually out to kill you,” John reasons, “I would just walk up to you and shoot you in the head.”

“So boring!” And the mafiaso storms out of the room.

I’ll give him defensive marks. It’ll appease him . Ares signs, clearly having thought it through.

“Why do you work for him?” John asks aloud as he signs along.

The pay is good. And I go to galas.

“Huh. Wouldn’t have pegged you for liking that kind of thing.”

Ares gives him a sick grin as she signs, I get to meet a lot of rich, married women unhappy with their husbands.

John shakes his head, “You’re worse than a man.”

Trust me. I’m much better than a man.

Finding nothing to say to that, John turns on his heel and walks out of the kitchen.

It takes Santino another hour to determine where in the library he would best look displayed. He decides against the bookshelves and maps out a fight that will never happen. Santino recants the details of the fight with vivid imagery, seeming not to care that John isn’t listening.

Ares carefully paints a layer of blood onto Santino’s head while he grumbles about all the more dignified ways that John could have chosen to kill him.

When he’s finally ready to be posed, the mafia prince starts babbling on about the lighting in the room.

John is aware that Santino is entirely a political player, but it blows his mind that someone that self-absorbed could really be tied for number two in wielding the power of the Camorra.

It was unreal.

His headache is real by the time Santino actually manages to stay still and in place long enough for John to snap a couple of photos, all highlighting the wound and Santino’s dead eyes.

John is ready to leave then, but Santino insists on showering before they leave. Washing his face, he says, is not enough and he doesn’t trust that the shower John has in his safe house will be sufficient.

When he is done, John is still ready to go. To get back home to Helen, just as he had promised her. But Santino needs to pack. When the mafiaso finally reports being ready, he has more suitcases than will fit in John’s car.

Finally, Ares takes pity on them both and promises to bring the suitcases the following day, convincing Santino an overnight bag would be enough. They finally settle upon two overnight bags. As Santino goes through his things to pick out the necessities, Ares turns to John.

You should hit me, she signs.

“I’m sorry, what?”

You should hit me, Ares repeats. When I go to alert L.D., I should look like I was in a fight. Hit me.

It’s a fair point, John thinks. If DeLuca had done his homework on his cousin, he would know that Santino didn’t go anywhere without his head of security.

“You sure?” John asks as he signs.

She bows her head in the start of a nod and John strikes hard and fast. The younger assassin stumbles back crashing into the coffee table. It breaks under her weight and she makes a harsh face in pain.

John offers a hand to help her back up but she waves it off, wincing as she pushes herself up to her feet. Dusting herself off, she signs Be seeing you, John Wick.

He responds in kind before taking Santino out to the garage before the mafiaso could come up with another reason to slow them down. John takes great joy in locking Santino in his trunk before leaving the building, avoiding any chance of witnesses or cameras seeing him.

The plan had been to let Santino out once they crossed city lines and were certain they would not be seen. It had been Lorenzo’s idea to put him in the trunk and John was all to happy too oblige that request.

But the plan quickly changes when he spots the tail.

So much, he thinks, for getting home early.

He changes courses, pretending not to notice the black sedan four cars back, and heads upstate. It might add more to his trip but, assuming the tail was reporting back to anyone, it would keep them from knowing that he was actually headed for Vermont.

John’s gut tells him its Verdugo, but he can’t know that for sure.

Regardless, he waits until it is just them on an empty stretch of highway before he rolls down the window and sticks his middle finger out and up, letting the tail know that he sees him. He’s watching him, even as he’s being watched.

The car slows immensely at the sight and John watches in his rearview as the car turns around in the middle of the road.

He shakes his head.

Whoever was following him had probably been under the assumption that Helen was being held within the city, or at least close enough by that they could tail John to find her.

But tailing anybody for four hours without being caught was damn near impossible.

Yet another reason John had moved her out of state.

He pulls over not long after at State Park just off the road to let Santino out of the trunk.

The mobster whines and John does his best to ignore him as he drives. He makes his path convoluted, impossible to follow just in case whoever had been following him switched cars. Unlikely, he thinks, but paranoia reigns supreme.

Spending six hours in a car with Santino, John discovers, might be the closest he has ever come to experiencing Hell on Earth and by the time they reach the safehouse, John considers that it really might just be easier to murder this particular D’Antonio and be done with it.

“This is it?” Santino sounds unimpressed as John parks the car next to Marcus’. John couldn’t give a shit what Santino thought as turns the car off.

He hurries inside, anxious to set eyes upon her again. To reassure himself of her safety.

It’s silent as he walks in, so different than the night before when he’d walked in on Helen breaking Marcus down. He walks down the hall and into the living room as Santino follows, looking around in disdain at the cottage.

Marcus rounds the corner, eyes narrowing as he spots Santino. His eyes shoot to John, sending a glare. Bringing Santino had not been part of the initial plan.

John gives a shrug considering he didn’t have a choice and thinks not exactly thrilled about this either.

“What the hell—” Santino starts but is shushed by Marcus.

The assassin holds a finger up over his lips and gestures with his head towards the couch. John walks around.

Helen is asleep, her legs tucked in close to her. She has changed back into his shirt and boxers. Her dark curls have fallen over her cheek. He can’t resist but to reach down and push the locks back from her face.

“She tried to wait up for you, but she fell asleep a little before midnight.” Marcus says softly so as not to disturb her.

He can’t help but smile at that. His perfect girl.

John slips his jacket off and drapes it over the couch. “I’ll put her to bed and be back in a few.”

He bends, slipping a hand underneath her legs and another behind her back, scooping her up and into his arms. She makes a soft moan of surprise at the contact but quickly leans into him, resting her head upon his shoulder and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

He makes a conscious effort to ignore Santino’s curious gaze.

John takes her down the hall and to the room they share. He’s not sure how he feels or what he thinks anymore.

After months of thinking he would never hold her like this, followed by nights where she sleeps in his arms, he no longer feels a grasp on reality. His worst fear—that Helen might be harmed or used against him has already come true. And he has never benefited more from a singular fact.

He adjusts his grip on her as he pulls back the covers on the side of the bed he now deems as hers.

He’s spent a lifetime sleeping alone. Now he wonders if he will spend the rest of his life sleeping on the left of the bed, just to imagine the nights where she slept to his right.

Carefully, he lays her down. There is another soft moan, this time of protest, as he lets go. She turns her head onto the pillow, snuggling in.

I love you , he thinks as he drags the blankets up and around Helen, tucking her in.

He bends down and kisses her head. His fingers glide along her hair and he finds himself at peace knowing he’ll join her soon. After he stops Marcus from murdering Santino.

John sighs and forces himself to go back out into the living room where the assassin and mafiaso stand, glaring at one another.

“This wasn’t part of the plan, John.” Marcus says without looking away.

“It was a judgment call. Santino is too well-known in the city. We decided it was best if we got him out for the time being.”

“Rest assured, Marcus, I have no interest in being in this prehistoric hut with either of you.”

“It’s only for twelve hours.” John says before Marcus can respond. “Ares will be by tomorrow to pick up him. Then he’s off to spend the remainder of the week at a spa an hour north of here.”

Marcus, thankfully, has the self-control to not say anything else and nods.

“Now that is settled, you can show me to my room.” Santino announces.

Well, that was something John hadn’t considered. For any normal person, it was only going to be one night and that wouldn’t be much of an issue. He could grin and bare it on the pull-out couch with Marcus or the floor. But Santino…

Marcus snorts and walks away, into the kitchen.

“You’ll be sharing the pull-out with Marcus.” John says.

Santino loudly proclaims, “I’ll do no such—”

John doesn’t even realize he’s moving until his hand is around Santino’s neck and the knife in his pocket has been flipped open and pressed to Santino’s stomach. “Wake her,” he says darkly, “And you and I are going to have a problem.”

“More importantly, Helen ’s going to have a problem.” Marcus adds. “John will just kill you. Helen’ll make you wish you’d never been born.”

“Okay, okay, okay…” Santino holds up his hands. John releases him and the mafiaso straightens his jacket with a glare, “I don’t see the need to be so, so dramatic!”

After spending several hours staging Santino’s death, followed by six hours in a car with the mafiaso, John has nothing to say to the accusation that he was the dramatic one.

“Couch or the floor.” John says, “It’s one night. You can handle it.”

He huffs, “Is there at least a bathroom in this shack? Or must I relieve myself in the woods, like an animal?”

John is tempted to lie but points down the hall to the bathroom. Santino stalks off, taking his bag with him. When the door has closed, Marcus turns to him.

“Now I might require a marker.”

John snorts, “I just spent six hours in the car with him.”

Marcus inclines his head, the start of a smile on his face, “You might just need a therapist.”

He can’t help but smile at that, at the thought of Helen already asleep and tucked into his bed. “I might.” John agrees, before asking, “How was she today?”

“Good. She was getting restless, so we went for a run. Then I gave her a crash course in handguns.”

John’s head shoots up, “You did what?”

“She asked.” Marcus says, “And I don’t blame her, considering everything going on.”

“You taught Helen to shoot a gun?”

“A handgun. She already knew a bit about rifles. Went hunting with her grandfather as a kid, but we both agreed that rifles would likely be impractical for her.”

John flounders for a moment, torn between the diametrically opposed thoughts of what the fuck and good . It was probably a good idea for her to have some basic self-defense training. It would probably make her feel better in the long run, knowing that she could take care of herself.

But another part of him, a darker more possessive part, hated that it had to be done. He should be enough to protect her. And if anyone was going to teach her to protect herself, it should be him .

But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. He was out doing what he could to keep her safe, but Marcus was the one actually watching over her.

Jealousy, he realizes. He was jealous.

Which was entirely unfair. Marcus was doing him the favor of a lifetime, ensuring her safety when John couldn’t but he was also spending more time with her. When John came home, they were able to talk but they mostly just slept. And while he wouldn’t trade the hours spent with her curled up in his arms for anything, he was coming to hate the daylight because it meant he would have to go.

But that wasn’t Marcus’ fault.

He tampers down on the feeling and thinks, instead, of the image it presents.

“How was she?” He asks, unable to help the quirk of his lips at the thought of Helen with a gun.

“A fucking natural.” Marcus says, matching John’s grin, “She overthinks things a bit, gets in her own head, but she’s good. Given a bit of practice, she’ll be a force.”

She’s already a force , John thinks, but he gets what Marcus means. Without a gun, Helen had been able to talk herself out of captivity. She’d systematically been able to manipulate and break her captors down until they were willing to pursue her interests.

Add a gun to the mix…

“Who knows,” Marcus adds, “Maybe I’ll have her use Santino for target practice tomorrow.”

John smirks, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Santino.”

“Santino’s mother is sorry about Santino.”

His father, too, but John doesn’t say that.

“But it will be fine,” Marcus continues, “Whatever it takes.”

John nods, “You good if I go to bed?”

“Go for it. I’ll deal with the dipshit.”

John inclines his head in thanks and heads down the hall, undoing his vest. He folds it, draping it over an arm as he opens the door to the bedroom.

He changes into his pajamas in the dark as quietly as he can manage before he makes his way to his side of the bed. John pulls back the covers and slips in beside her. He can’t quite make out her features in the dark but stirs as the bed shifts under his weight.

“John?” She murmurs softly.

“I’m here.” He tells her, opening an arm.

Helen hums softly and curls into him. “Missed you.” She says as she nuzzles into him.

“I missed you too.”

John closes his eyes and allows the warmth of her body to lull him to sleep.

….

It would be so easy, John thinks upon waking, to kiss her.

Helen is still asleep, her head resting on his bicep, her arm stretched up and over his chest. Her palm rests over his heart.

She’s facing him, lips parted ever so slightly.

Soft and pink and perfect and all he would have to do is bend down. Brush his lips against hers.

He knows he shouldn’t kiss her while she’s sleeping. That borders on creepy and disrespectful. Then again, considering the fact that he stalked her for months , breaking into her house to watch her sleep, this really didn’t seem like that much of an invasion.

It also occurs to John that he’s never kissed anyone before.

He’s been kissed, a handful of times. Grabby partners or experimenting in his youth, he’d allowed others to kiss him to try it. To know what it felt like. He hadn’t been impressed nor had he understood the fascination with tasting another in such an intimate manner.

Yet now he can barely withhold from leaning forward. Tasting her .

She shifts in her sleep, her leg reaching out over his own.

He settles with kissing her head, holding her in his arms for just a little longer.

If all has gone well, he’ll meet Sofia in Jersey in just a matter of hours. Hopefully, she’s already landed with Isabella DeLuca. If not, he still has the D’Antonio’s on his side.

Ares should be able to follow his instructions to pick Helen up.

A part of him is concerned that now three more people will know the whereabouts of his safehouse. But Santino won’t care enough to remember, Gianna has no use for four million dollars, and Ares wouldn’t act against the wishes of her boss.

Honestly, he thinks, it will all be fine. And they’re so fucking close to all this being over.

Which leads him to a whole new set of worries that he can’t begin to touch now.

John looks back down at the woman asleep in his arms. He loves her so much that it makes his heart swell. He wonders if it's actually possible for the heart to just burst.

He’s interrupted with his thoughts when a door slams. Helen jolts in her sleep, eyes opening as she startles await.

“It’s okay,” John quickly soothes, ready to fucking murder Santino. He strokes a hand up and down her back, “It’s okay.”

“The fuck…” She mumbles, eyes closing as she turns her head into his arm.

“Just a door.” He says, shaking his head as he gently takes his arm back, lowering her head to the pillow. “Go back to sleep.”

“You getting’ up?”

“Yeah.”

She makes a noise of disapproval and John can’t help but smile. “Go back to sleep.”

Helen grumbles a bit as John slips from the bed.

John walks to the door, careful to be gentle as he closes it behind him. The bathroom door is closed and the water is running. He can only guess that it’s Santino. He heads down the hall and into the living room where Marcus is closing the pull-out back into the couch.

“What the hell?” John asks, gesturing with his head towards the bathroom.

“He wanted espresso. I told him there was coffee. He told me to make him a cup. I told him to go fuck himself.”

John rolls his eyes, “Just a few more hours.”

“You owe me so bad for putting me in a bed with Santino.” John tosses one of the couch cushions to Marcus, who places it back where it goes, “Did he wake her?”

John nods, “I told her to go back to sleep but I give it fifty-fifty.”

As he says it, John walks over to the kitchen. He dumps the coffee grounds from the previous day and refills it with fresh ones, adding more than yesterday to account for their added guest.

“Ah, thank you, John. It seems one of you is a gracious host.” Santino says, fully dressed in a dark purple suit that is very out of place for the cottage. He pulls out a chair and sits at the small table. “I like my coffee with Splenda and crème.”

“We got sugar and milk.”

The mafiaso’s shoulders slump as he leans back into his seat, muttering in Italian.

“You do realize you’re a grown adult, don’t you?” Marcus asks incredulously.

Despite the fact that Marcus was older and had spent longer in the Underworld than John had, Marcus had mostly been involved with the mid-level mob stuff. He was assigned tasks and he completed them. Like John, he wasn’t ambitious enough to actual get political himself.

Unlike John, he worked for a single organization. Being freelance, albeit with ties to certain organizations, John was more exposed to high ranking officials and their families. He’d seen first-hand the way that heirs were treated and honored without accomplishment.

John expects this kind of behavior from Santino.

Marcus doesn’t expect it from anybody .

Santino replies scathingly and John ignores it, focusing instead on the morning ritual or preparing coffee. He refills the water tank, setting the carafe back under the filter when he feels arms reaching around him, a warm body pressing against his back as Helen rests her head against him.

He realizes, then, that he hadn’t actually warned her about Santino.

She’d been asleep when they got home, and he had hoped she would fall back asleep after the loud slam. It would seem that was not the case.

Apparently, she either hadn’t noticed the mafiaso in her sleepy state or was uncaring.

John flips on the coffee maker before reaching an arm back to hug her. She loosens her grip as he turns to put his back to the counter. When he is settled, she rests her head against his chest.

“Who’s the suit?” she asks as she yawns, telling John it was the second option.

He has to stop himself from smiling at just how precious she is when she’s half-asleep. “Santino.”

She hums, “And he’s here why?”

Marcus gives a bark of laughter as John’s lips twitch. Santino makes a face of offense and John can’t bring himself to care.

“We faked his death yesterday. He needs a place to lay low where he won’t be seen by anybody he knows. His bodyguard is coming later today to pick him up and take him to a spa up north. He’ll only be here for a few more hours.”

“Better be sure of that,” Marcus says, “Otherwise we’re switching bed partners tonight.”

“Not gonna happen.” Helen replies before John can think of a way to appropriately say not a chance in fucking hell, “John’s a cuddler and I don’t share.”

He feels his face flush as Marcus laughs aloud again. Even Santino visibly brightens at the statement, saying, “Is he, now?”

John swallows but manages to tease back, “Says the one wrapped around me.”

She shrugs, “You’re warm.”

“Good to know you have your uses, isn’t it, John?” Marcus says, walking over to the fridge, “What do you want for breakfast, sweetheart?”

“I’m not picky.” She picks her head up from John’s chest, looking over her shoulder, “Whatever’s easy.”

“Well, I would like a protein scramble.”

“I’d like to set you on fire.” Marcus mutters as he digs through the fridge, “Eggs and sausage it is.”

He reaches over the fridge, wordlessly handing John the milk. John grabs it and kisses Helen’s head. “Go sit down, I’ll bring you your coffee.” He promises.

She makes a face but nods, dragging her hand across his stomach as she walks away. The line between them continues to blur and all he wants is to pull her back into his arms, already regretting telling her to go.

There are a hundred reasons why he doesn’t, but he tells himself it's so he can make her coffee. He pours the milk in first, as she likes it, before filling both their coffee mugs. She’s chosen the seat across from Santino and John wonders if it's to put herself farther away from the mafiaso or so she can see him, better analyze his movements.

He sets the mug in front of her, trailing his own fingers across her shoulders as he makes his way to sit on her other side. John doesn’t realize he’s even doing it until he removes his hand and sits down.

“How long have the two of you been together?” Santino asks curiously.

John tries to think of an answer, but he’s saved from having to say anything when Helen mirrors his body language, inclining her head, “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m curious.”

She is watching the mafiaso closely and John wonders what she’s thinking, what she’s looking for. After a few moments, Helen sits back, coffee in hand, “We’ve been seeing each other for seven months.”

John can see Marcus smirk at her answer.

It sounds… normal. And it’s not technically a lie. He had been seeing her weekly for seven months so if John has to confirm it, he won’t stumble. Again, he wishes he knew what was going on inside her head. He can see in her eyes that she has a theory but she’s testing it, carefully laying traps all around.

“That’s a long time to keep a secret.” Santino replies.

“We were aware of the consequences should it get out.” She sips her coffee.

“Indeed. Now your life is on the line…”

John opens his mouth to warn Santino off, but Helen gives him a gentle kick under the table, stopping him before he can utter a sound. He closes his mouth, turning his attention back to his love. Her face betrays nothing, but he can see the sparkle in her eyes.

She’s in her element.

“As is yours,” she’s using her counseling voice now. The gentle one that John knows is designed solely to lead him into a false sense of security. “Do you fear death, Santino?”

“Of course not,” the answer slips easily from him, “But regardless, it is not a present concern. Half of New York is not out looking for me .”

She looks thoughtful, “And yet, your life is on the line in the same way mine is. Hanging on the same thread in balance.”

John can’t look away.

“Not the same thread, my dear. After all, you’re being targeted for your relationship. I’m being targeted for my power.”

“Does it bother you, then, that my life is worth that of yourself and your family in the eyes of DeLuca?”

“DeLuca is a fool.” Santino snaps and, again, John is prepared to interfere when Helen, again, kicks him under the table.

John stops himself, catching the eye of Marcus. Even as he cooks, Marcus is grinning like a fool as he listens in.

Helen leans forward, setting her mug back on the table.

“Why do you say that?”

“He thinks he can defeat the Camorra, defeat me, in such a simplistic manner? No. No, I think not.”

“You’re very confident.”

“I have good reason to be. I am aware of how to take care of myself. To squash bugs like Mateo. Of course, it is not your fault that you cannot say the same. It takes a great deal of training and intelligence to understand how to survive in a world such as ours.”

Helen gives a subtle nod that both Santino and Marcus miss but the quirk of her lips tells John she’s figured out what she wanted to. She sits back in her seat, sipping at her coffee.

“John, come get your plates.” Marcus calls over and John stands, this time letting his hand skim Helen’s shoulders consciously. She leans into the touch and it thrills him more than words can ever say. “Santino, if you want a drink, come get it.”

The mafioso grumbles but follows John into the kitchen.

John sets the first plate in front of Helen, leaning down as he does to whisper in her ear, “Having fun?”

She smirks, leaning back to whisper, “Are all Italian mafiosos narcissistic or have I just been lucky?”

“You’ve just been lucky. I swear, they’re not all like Santino or DeLuca.”

“Oh, those two are entirely different kinds of narcissists. DeLuca’s a covert narcissist. I can’t decide whether Santino’s bordering on sadistic or sociopathic or a little of both.

“What makes you say that?’ And there’s a start of a smile on his face that comes from just listening to her at work.

“The lack of empathy is startling, which makes me think sociopathic but did you hear how he kept bringing it back to me? Not focusing on my experience, but on his perception of my fear. He wants me to be afraid. It amuses him, which makes me think sadism.”

John hums and quotes, “In order to know virtue, we must first acquaint ourselves with vice?”

“Marquis de Sade.” Helen annotes, “A nihilist if ever there was one.” She glances over to John, “Whichever way Santino lands, I’m dying to pick his brain apart.”

John pats her shoulder, “You should have him for a few more hours. That should keep you busy for a while.”

He stands back up, walking around to her other side before settling back in her seat.

“How long are you here?” Helen asks softly, her expression falling from one of amusement to resignation.

“I need to get going as soon as possible.” He admits.

Marcus pulls out a chair, setting down his own plate as John takes a bite, “What’s the plan for today?” The other assassin asks.

“If all goes well, Ares should have already staged Gianna’s death and she’ll drop off the pictures when she gets here.”

“And Lorenzo?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll go straight from him to DeLuca.” John glances at Helen as Santino sits back down, “The contract should be lifted then.”

“And if he tries for the double-cross, we’ll have Isabella.”

John nods, “I’m meeting Sofia at noon to go over the plan, make sure Isabella’s secured.”

“That shouldn’t take long.” Marcus says with a nod.

“No,” John agrees, “I’ll spend the rest of the day in the city.” He leaves out that it will be spent reminding people that it would be in their best interests not to pursue the contract.

John feels Helen’s eyes on him as he eats, idly listening to Marcus and Santino argue over bullshit.

One day closer to the nightmare being over.

A part of John is disgusted with himself for even thinking he might miss these nights and early mornings spent by her side. But he can't lie to himself anymore.

He's grown addicted to her presence, just as he had on his late night visits.

And he's not entirely sure what to do with that. Not sure how to admit the fact he doesn't know how he'll ever grow used to a life without her sunshine.

But like she can feel him slipping, Helen reaches out, resting her hand on top of his. He turns his own, letting her entwine her fingers with his.

She deserves so much better than him.

But everyday it's getting harder to remember that.

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bananaofswifts · 4 years

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BY: JILLIAN MAPES JUL 27 2020

POP/R&B

Made from afar, primarily with the National’s Aaron Dessner, Swift’s eighth album is a sweater-weather record filled with cinematic love songs and rich fictional details.

The phantom pang of missing someone before you ever meet them is an emotion worthy of its own word. That fated feeling of love and the passage of time is the theme that runs between Carly Rae Jepsen’s smash hit “Call Me Maybe” and the National’s antisocial romance “Slow Show”; it’s also the kind of thing Taylor Swift might write about. One of the loveliest tracks on folklore, the surprise album the singer-songwriter made primarily with the National’s guitarist Aaron Dessner, stands out for a strangely similar reason: a thread connecting two strangers that exists long before either realizes it’s there. “And isn’t it just so pretty to think/All along there was some/Invisible string/Tying you to me,” she sings on the delightfully plucky “invisible string,” simultaneously recalling famous lines from Jane Eyre and The Sun Also Rises.

folklore will forever be known as Taylor Swift’s “indie” album, a sweater-weather record released on a whim in the blue heat of this lonely summer, filled with cinematic love songs in search of a film soundtrack. There are those who already dislike folklore on principle, who assume it’s another calculated attempt on Swift’s part to position her career as just so (how dare she); meanwhile, fans will hold it up as tangible proof that their leader can do just about anything (also a stretch). While it’s true that folklore pushes the limits of Swift’s sound in a particular, perhaps unexpected direction, her reference points feel more like mainstream “indie” homage than innovation, taking cues from her collaborators’ work and bits of nostalgia.

At its best, folklore asserts something that has been true from the start of Swift’s career: Her biggest strength is her storytelling, her well-honed songwriting craft meeting the vivid whimsy of her imagination; the music these stories are set to is subject to change, so long as it can be rooted in these traditions. You can tell that this is what drives Swift by the way she molds her songs: cramming specific details into curious cadences, bending the lines to her will. It’s especially apparent on folklore, where the production—mostly by Dessner, with Jack Antonoff’s pop flair occasionally in the mix—is more minimal than she typically goes for. Her words rise above the sparse pianos, moody guitars, and sweeping orchestration, as quotable as ever.

After years as pop’s most reliable first-person essayist, Swift channels her distinct style into what are essentially works of fiction and autofiction, finding compelling protagonists in a rebellious heiress and a classic teenage love triangle. In “the last great american dynasty,” she tells the story of eccentric debutante Rebekah Harkness, who married into the Standard Oil family and once lived in Swift’s Rhode Island mansion, as a way to celebrate women who “have a marvelous time ruining everything.” Filled with historical details and Americana imagery, you can see the song play out in your mind like a storybook, but it also effectively makes a point about society’s treatment of brash women. Swift cleverly draws a line between Harkness and herself at the end, an idea she fleshes out in a more literal sequel, “mad woman.” Out of all the songs on folklore, “the last great american dynasty” is the all-timer, the instant classic. It sounds like the latter-day National/Taylor mashup you never knew you needed—textural and tastefully majestic, with Fitzgerald-esque lines about filling the pool with champagne instead of drinking all the wine.

With folklore’s teen heartbreak trilogy, Swift circles the same affair from each party’s differing view. “betty” is the story of 17-year-old James trying to win back his girlfriend after cheating, a familiar crime rendered new by the narrator’s genuine remorse and belief in a love regained. It has the youthful hope of a song like “Wide Open Spaces,” yet is noticeably wiser (and queerer) than the high school romances Swift wrote as an actual teenager. First single “cardigan” is told by Betty, whose disillusionment with James results in a sad, sensuous sound reminiscent of Lana Del Rey, down to the vocal style and casual lyrical quotation of another pop song. But the songs’ overlapping details and central framing device—of a cardigan forgotten and found without a second thought—are pure Swift, an instant memory portal not unlike the scarf in Red’s “All Too Well.” (The cutesy marketing angle for “cardigan” is reliably Swiftian as well.) And even though “august” is considered to be the third in the trilogy, the record’s most tender, saccharine love story plays out during “illicit affairs.” “You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else,” she sings. “And you know damn well for you I would ruin myself.” The scenes and perspectives evoked by these songs alone speak volumes about Swift’s evolution as a songwriter.

The theme of folklore is a very different way of acknowledging that people will talk, an idea that animated 2017’s trap-tinged work of minor villainy, Reputation. Swift knows her own mythology like a model knows her angles, and that’s part of what makes folklore fascinating if you maintain an open mind: a kind of reverse-engineered “mindie” project, it sonically situates her closest to Lana and chamber-pop belter Florence Welch, but may also occasionally remind you of Triple-A radio, Sufjan Stevens if he killed his more ambitious tendencies, or Big Red Machine, Dessner’s duo with Justin Vernon (see: the sparse and soulful “peace”). The album’s actual duet with Vernon, “exile,” is a little like a Bon Iver take on “Falling Slowly,” the centerpiece of the 2007 folk musical Once: awkwardly dragging until the clouds slowly part to allow something beautiful to build. Swift is playing the long game here, and while there are no wild missteps, the album could use some selective pruning (see: “seven,” “hoax”).

It’s worth pointing out that folklore isn’t a total outlier in Swift’s catalog either, or even her recent work. The tracks with Antonoff shift away from the ’80s electro-pop of 1989 and onward, but they lean into the Mazzy Star swoon of Lover’s title track, Swift’s ongoing fascination with Imogen Heap, and a twinge of the Cranberries. There are interesting images, indelible hooks, and real signs of maturity. In the dreamy “mirrorball,” Swift likens the relatability trap of fame to a disco ball, singing of fluttering on tiptoes and trying hard to make it look effortless. “august” is a great, lusty Swift summer anthem about forbidden love, where the up-close, white-hot heat of songs like “Style” or “Getaway Car” is traded for wistful reflection in the rearview. Like the rest of us, Taylor Swift knows she’s had better summers before and she’ll have better summers again. At least she’s made thoughtful use of this one.

#taylor swift #folklore #review

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mediaeval-muse · 4 years

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Book Review

Spin the Dawn. By Elizabeth Lim. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2019.

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

Genre: YA fantasy

Part of a Series? Yes, #1 of the Blood of Stars duology

Summary: Maia Tamarin dreams of becoming the greatest tailor in the land, but as a girl, the best she can hope for is to marry well. When a royal messenger summons her ailing father, once a tailor of renown, to court, Maia poses as a boy and takes his place. She knows her life is forfeit if her secret is discovered, but she'll take that risk to achieve her dream and save her family from ruin. There's just one catch: Maia is one of twelve tailors vying for the job. Backstabbing and lies run rampant as the tailors compete in challenges to prove their artistry and skill. Maia's task is further complicated when she draws the attention of the court magician, Edan, whose piercing eyes seem to see straight through her disguise. And nothing could have prepared her for the final challenge: to sew three magic gowns for the emperor's reluctant bride-to-be, from the laughter of the sun, the tears of the moon, and the blood of stars. With this impossible task before her, she embarks on a journey to the far reaches of the kingdom, seeking the sun, the moon, and the stars, and finding more than she ever could have imagined.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: blood; violence; torture; mentions of slavery, misogyny, sexual content

Overview: I can’t remember how this book fell under my radar, but I decided to pick it up because the emphasis on sewing was appealing. I’m a bit tired of fantasy books which focus entirely on fighting and devalue “soft skills,” so it was a refreshing change to read something that centered the labor that goes into garment-making and imbued it with a kind of magic. While the plot was very strong, in my opinion, the main thing that prevented me from giving this book a higher rating was the writing: so much happens in this book that some things felt rushed, and I would have liked to see more poetic prose when it came to describing the garments of the magical elements in Lim’s world. But other than that, Spin the Dawn was an enjoyable read, and I’m very much looking forward to the sequel.

Writing: As I mentioned above, Lim’s writing has a tendency to move too quickly. At times, this quick pace was great - Lim doesn’t stretch out scenes that don’t need it, reminding me a bit of Tamora Pierce’s books. But at times, it was somewhat detrimental. A lot happens in this book, so Lim had the challenge of getting everything in without extending the length too much (my copy is 387 pages). As a result, there’s not really a lot of time for suspense. Major events are over in a few pages, and emotional scenes are whipped through quickly in order to get to the next plot point.

The quick pace also means that not a lot of time is given for description. Sometimes, the lack of description was fine - fantasy has a tendency to overdo it, so it’s nice when an author is discerning with what gets described and what can be glossed over. In this case, though, I was hoping for a little more, especially when it came to describing the garments that the main character makes. With noticing and making clothing such an integral part of Maia’s identity, I was hoping for more vivid imagery when she notices or creates a garment - something a little more than a dress being light blue or a sleeve having pearls and embroidery. She does a little of that when she makes a magical dress, but in my opinion, it should have happened every time. I wanted the clothing to come to life before my eyes, especially since most of the garments are made using magical assistance.

Along similar lines, I think Lim could have done more to bring the language of sewing into the way Maia sees the world. The prologue and opening chapter in which Maia describes her family is very good with this - she describes her story as a series of “knots,” talks about how one of her brothers gave her a poetic vocabulary to describe colors, and even refers to clouds having “seams” at one point. I wish Lim had carried over these stylistic choices to the rest of her novel; her prose for the rest of the book seemed sparse in comparison.

A couple of nitpicky things: one, Lim has the tendency to explain to the reader what can be inferred. The story is narrated in Maia’s first person POV, and there are many times when Maia would bluntly state something that was pretty obvious from the context, or when showing would have worked better than telling. Lim also has a tendency to use exclamation marks in Maia’s inner monologue, which I personally don’t care for. But these things happened infrequently, compared to other novels I’ve read. They were noticeable, though.

Plot: This book follows our protagonist, Maia, as she enters a contest to become the next imperial tailor and as she is tasked with fashioning three gowns using the laughter of the sun, the tears of the moon, and the blood of stars. The narrative elements themselves were engaging; I think Lim did a good job of crafting a story while keeping sewing and tailoring at the heart of the adventure. At first, I was worried that sewing would take a backseat to politics, but Lim skillfully ensured that the sewing was always at the center, and that it was intertwined with the politics in ways that meant it couldn’t be discarded.

I do wish more time was given to creating suspense within this narrative. As stated above, this book moves quickly - so quickly that there isn’t really a lot of time to be worried about whether a character might succeed. While the story itself was fun, and I am in no way advocating for it to be made darker or more violent, I do think the book could have benefited from a slower pace where it was warranted, such as in each trial to obtain the materials for the dresses.

I also wasn’t very convinced by the “big bad” who shops up towards the end. Without giving anything away, I will say that their motivations were somewhat flat - it seemed like they just wanted to be bad because they were bored or something.

Characters: Maia, our protagonist, is fairly likable as a girl who disguises herself as a boy in order to prove something to a patriarchal society. I really liked Maia’s internal struggle over whether or not magic enhanced or undermined her skill as a tailor, and I also liked that she was direct and blunt when needed. I do think, however, that she is a bit too reliant on others to the point where she is somewhat passive. She only really initiates her own actions at the very beginning and very end of the book. Everything in between is determined by others - Edan, for example, tells her where to go to get the materials for her dresses, as well as what to do to pass the trials. He also manages their travel, their rations, everything, so that Maia seems to be just along for the ride. Aside from deciding to disguise herself in the first place and deciding how to handle her fate at the end, Maia shows little initiative. Placing more emphasis on her active decisions could have helped, even in situations when she was being acted upon or responding to something.

Edan, the Lord Enchanter and Maia’s love interest, is charismatic and teases Maia without being cruel. I liked that he was presented as someone who actually cares for Maia - he notices what foods she likes and what her favorite color is, and though he teases her, he’s never a gruff, jealous, violent asshole in the way that so many YA love interests are. I also thought the limits to his magic were interesting and helped temper his abilities so that he wasn’t over-powered as well, though I disliked how he was also used to conveniently explain lore and worldbuilding when Lim could have done that in other ways.

Many of the side characters were also nuanced so that they felt like complex characters with clear motivations. Lady Sarai, the emperor’s reluctant fiancee, is constantly making the tailors do ridiculous or impossible tasks, but it’s revealed that she does so to prolong her engagement and, possibly, defer the wedding. Thus, she appears simply cruel at first, but her homesickness and frustration as being a pawn in a larger political game makes her sympathetic. Likewise, the emperor is given some nuance in that he’s seemingly kind and fair to whoever he meets, but is reliant on Edan’s power to a concerning degree. I liked that his reliance on Edan and magic was understandable (he’s trying to prevent war, after all), but the personal costs of that reliance were questionable, making for an interesting moral dilemma.

But again, I disliked the “big bad.” I didn’t think they were woven very well into Lim’s world, and they appear so suddenly that they felt convenient for plot to happen, rather than a real threat.

Other: While the worldbuilding of this book was interesting, I think Lim could have done a lot more to make it seem more real and intwined with the lives of A’landians. Much of the information about magic, religion, history, etc. is dumped on the reader by Edan simply explaining things to Maia, making the worldbuilding feel like it existed only to make plot happen (rather than make a rich setting in which plot happens, if that makes sense). Out of all the things, I think the Seven Years’ War was the best incorporated because there was a personal element to it - Lim spends the opening chapters detailing how two of Maia’s brothers are killed and how a third is crippled, all while narrating how Maia and her father have to get by on their own. The complex feelings about the emperor and the shansen (the antagonist and whose daughter is the bride-to-be) were thus well-placed and felt real. The magic, however, seemed to appear only once Maia left her home. Maia has magic scissors that belonged to her grandmother, but she never knew about until the contest, and so little time is spent to thinking about who her family is and why the scissors only work for her that the magic didn’t feel personal at all (until the very end, conveniently). But aside from Maia’s personal story, I would have liked magic to be a little more integral to the world of A’landi, even if it was only reserved for the upper class. The same goes for the religion - apparently, religious figures and stories are at the center of Maia’s impossible dress-making task, but Maia is something of an atheist. While I did like the personal angle that explained why she doesn’t worship any gods, I do think religion could have been more integrated into the story to make it feel present (for example, maybe during the contest, people are given breaks to worship at the temple, and it’s understood to be mandatory - just an idea). Same thing with the inclusion of ghosts and demons - they only showed up when convenient.

A few words about the romance: I did like that Edan was attentive and not a raging jerk, as well as the reason for why they couldn’t be together. It made for an interesting predicament, and I’m interested to see where things go in book two. That being said, because this book moves so quickly, not enough time was devoted to developing the emotional connection between Edan and Maia. I would have liked to see more examples of how they enrich each other’s emotional lives, not just how Edan finds Maia interesting for dressing as a boy and refusing his assistance, or how Maia benefits from Edan’s magic. The teasing was fun and helped make for a cute dynamic, but I wanted a bit more. For example, how does Edan bring out the best in Maia, and vice versa?

Continuing with the Series? Yes.

Recommendations: I would recommend this book if you’re interested in fashion, dress-making, magical garments, sewing contests, and court politics.

#book reviews

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operativesurprise · 4 years

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Dreams I’ve had recently enough to find with a quick scroll on my fb wall

was dreaming about a cave last night. With lots of shallow pools of water along the floor. I feel like if I'd seen the layout from above it would have looked like paisleys. There was a creature there tending the pools. Sweeping detritus away, skimming the surfaces of the water. It took moss that was growing too thick in some places and put it into bare areas, and it was very gentle with the little frogs and salamanders living on the walls.

There was the sound of bats and the dripping and echo of water, and a low hum in the background, but the creature itself made no sound. You heard the bristles of it's broom, and the soft shift of stones it touched, but no footsteps, no breathing, no nothing but a soft chiming noise as it looked in each pool.

The waters all glowed, some white, some pale blue, others pulsed through light pink to deep magenta. The whole dream had this aura of calmness, of being content. It was like being in a giant zen garden but dial the peace up even more. I'm not really sure where -I- was in the dream. My POV was kinda hovering over the figure as it tended to the pools, but I'm fairly certain I wasn't the figure itself. I was like, 6 inches up and to the left.

_____

I've been trying to sketch an image I had in a dream last night and it's just not setting up right. It was like. Honestly it was like the first few seconds of the Adventure Time intro animation - that super fast 'drone camera' POV that swoops down through trees and stuff and focuses in on a character with their back to the camera and then they turn and look?

I was swooping through this orchard of blooming apple trees - and I took note bc for some reason I was surprised they weren't pear and peach trees like 'they were supposed to be'.

But as the camera/I got closer to this feminine figure standing under the branches and the flowers and these really almost black-green leaves in this rich green velvet textured dress (it's totally the dress that's on the original golden book cover of Ella Enchanted), with big free fall bouncy waves of BLOND hair, they turn and instead of it being that kinda anime "turn and wink/smile" and the camera goes to the next, she turned around and it was a dead eyed marionette.

My camera POV just slammed to a halt with the freeze frame of this... entity (which I 'knew' in my dream was The Druid) (Even though this wasn't really an MJ dream) looking up and over their shoulder at me, like they'd become aware of the camera and were looking straight at ME. The branches with the flowers and the leaves above it framed it really close and I couldn't see much other than the scribbly ovals of it's eyes. Then the colors all got desaturated except for the apple blossoms.

And then that dream was over.

___

Vivid dreams last night about being on house hunters. With Lithrick as the realtor.

Also had a very ominous dream about standing in a misty open field, feeling the sawgrass scrape my bare arms and shins, staring up into the grey sky while sharp winged birds with broken bodies 'flew' through the air. It looked like how a washcloth you are swirling in a tub of water looked. There was no sound for that one but I could feel the rain on my face as I looked up.

Then I was dreaming about being on the beach in Belize with the chitons and baby hermit crabs and the breeze and I was watching the sunrise.

___

I've been having zombie nightmares since Sunday. Sunday and Monday were taking place in the shopping mall (which is a relatively new venue for my dreams), Sunday being the Beginning of the outbreak (and star trek themed) and Monday mostly about life starting up in the 'colony' of this gigantic shopping mall.

But last night I dreamed about the collapse of the colony and then survival in the forest.

There was a man in a wheelchair who had arrived at the shopping mall with his mother - both of whom were injured but not infected. We let them in and the mother succumbed to her injuries shortly after.

This left the man in the wheelchair distraught and he would wheel around the open plaza in the center of the mall mumbling. It was not concerning - until other weird things began to happen.

Like how one of the dorm areas had mysteriously become locked, how some people were going missing (presumably they left to try and find their families), and how some older people were getting injuries in the night - explained away by "well, old people have delicate skin and maybe they bumped themselves".

But then the man in the wheelchair wheeled up to the mezzanine and shouted for attention. And then he collapsed, and clouds of mosquitos erupted from his wounds and began to attack people.

Flash forward to a weird mix of irl and larp characters living in the woods behind my house in an abandoned homestead - I had gone from dying by mosquito to being Sano and a group of us avoiding Velociraptors in the long grass as we made our way back to the relative safety of this bombed out building husk.

But then The Rattler Gang came - horribly tattooed and violent and they ransacked through the homestead and were almost into our barricaded room when not-quite-Malaki and sorta-Allison with an ancestor spirit wig on saved us.

The dream ended with us all in a cave explaining to a horrified Morgrym that "see what happens when you're late?"

It was so weird bc as the dreams progressed and became more MJ and less Real World but with Zombies the zombies became less of an issue (I mean, repel undead is a thing)

___

Last night I dreamed about Ridge Road being a swamp instead of a road. The fields on either side were the same, but the road itself was a Louisiana/Florida/Bayou/Swamp thing with hot, moist air, dragon flies, grasses, alligators, everything you could want (though the water was clear as day).

And I was walking along the broken up boards that served as this sorta river trail following the path of the road. Slats were missing in places and it was a distinctive walnut color, and it was rickety and I could smell the heat of it like being on a dock in the summer time.

And as I was walking along I knew I was heading toward Harris Hill farm but instead of the farm it was the Pirate Tavern bar that I dream about fairly often.

(as I'm thinking about it, it kinda has the air of a setting in a Curse of Monkey Island game crossed against Diablo II)

But before I can get into the tavern there was a crowd of tourists wading through the water nearby. Like, the most stereotypical hawaiian shirt white-sunscreen-on-nose and flyfishing capped tourists you could imagine. And they were lost looking for their fan boat but I didn't know where it was - but I also didn't want them to find the Pirate Tavern bc it's a secret and my co-owner Matt Sch would be mad if we had to relocate AGAIN bc non-pirates had found us.

And in my dream I am DISTINCTLY aware that LAST TIME there were also VAMPIRES there, but Skye Collins had bought out their half of that Pirate-Vampire Tavern to own it outright as JUST a Vampire Tavern so this time I went into business with Matt. Not Lithrick, Matt.

And I was -upset- in my dream until I 'remembered' that I hadn't skipped out on Skye and the Vampirate Tavern, I'd just opened another location with a different partner after reaching an amicable business deal. We still traded aligator blood grog for peat moss from the other location to serve a certain cocktail with at THIS one.

___

Had a dream last night that I was diving on a whale fall. But either I was minuscule or the whale was super gigantic bc the rib bones were these looming spires like I was watching a stroll under redwood trees through a low fisheye lense.

Thinking about it I can totally piece out the different dives that meshed to make this dream up.

The stalactites from the Blue Hole, The gelatinous muck on the bottom in the St. Lawrence The cold from the Brownstone Quarry

___

If we want to talk about a fever dream... last night I had a dream about being trapped on a volcanic island while the whole chain of volcanoes were erupting.

The evacuation was happening but I went back to the house for the animals and got stuck there. And other neighbors who couldn't get out in time were coming over with their pets and supplies.

I was watching the lightning and the ash fall outside when I saw three red colored golden retrievers but I could only get two of them to come inside and I spent the rest of the dream upset and trying to find the third one. I found other animals trying to hide from the ash and storm, but I woke up before finding that 3rd golden.

The lava flows were coming down the mountain too.

___

Dream time. So. A classical vampire and an actual bat demon are out on the town looking for something to do when they come across a nail parlor.

What a great idea, they think! We'll get manipedis and then do brunch over at IKEA.

But when they go into the nail parlor there is far too much religious imagery to be comfortable and the demon doesn't want to stay anymore so they go back outside all sad.

Vampire suggests they just kill and eat the occupants of the nail parlor and find something else to do with their day off.

Demon agrees to the plan but they have this 'thing' where when the two of them murder a bunch of people they leave a haiku written in the blood on the wall.

They begin to argue because they both have different accents and can't decide on the syllable count for a certain word.

___

So there's a string of tall, skinny houses in Litchfield after 'The Church' that usually feature in any nightmares I tend to have. Last night did not disappoint.

The lineup was this:

🏚🏠🏡🏠 An empty house, My house, the neighbor's house, and then for some reason my grandmother's house.

And we had gone next door to the neighbor's house for dinner, even though we knew it was dangerous to be outside of our house after dark. But as we gathered in their entryway the spotlights on the rest of the neighborhood started turning on and we knew we had stayed too late.

"They" were out there. You were safe in the daylight, you were safe at night as long as you didn't open your doors. BUT now it was night. And we had to get home.

So we slip out the door and we can hear the neighborhood using birdcalls to communicate the 'all clear'. As we are going down this overgrown embankment toward our house we see it.

One of them.

And then we hear someone sound the alarm, a series of owl hoots. It distracts the thing for a moment and we think we could slip away but it turns and starts trying to get into our house so we run to the empty one next door and JUST barely make it.

Dream me's mother and little sister make it into the screened in porch just ahead of me and I fall in and turn and only just get the door closed in time when It attacks.

It was a zombie. Or a ghoul. Or something. a woman with a bloody face and terrible teeth and honestly it looked like Reagan from the Exorcist and she launched herself against the screen door which I'm trying to keep closed.

I know she can't get in the door but then she makes this horrible noise and says,

"You won't be safe for long. We're getting stronger,"

And the door is almost coming off its hinges but I -know- as long as I keep the door closed at night we are safe and then she laughs and presses her face to the screen and says,

"I'll just get in tomorrow morning. Before you're awake. Because, really, what difference does the sun or stars make? I'll get in tomorrow,"

And then I woke up.

____

My dream last night was so complicated I can barely keep it straight.

I was some grizzled, older ex-con dude pulled out of my soft retirement as a school bus driver because a child genius was being used as the catalyst for the robot war apocalypse by his wealthy mother's greedy board of directors.

And somehow I had a time machine that I was gonna use to bring the kid back to the beginning of all the issues and he was gonna start sabotaging the dangerous inventions so he could just be a regular child genius instead of responsible for global-scale mass murder.

At one point I had thrown the kid's manifesto at him but he hadn't actually read it bc it was too big and there were no pictures but also bad language and he asked me what "twat" meant and the kid was horrified that they would use that kind of language. Like he was ambivalent about the murders but bad language was crossing a line.

And as part of my "wait. He's just a kid I can help him instead of kill him" epiphany for some reason I looked out the time machine window and saw my old motorcycle which was painted in blue tiedye pattern and that memory moved me enough to offer to help the kid.

So the kid grabbed his froggy backpack and offered to give me all of his science fair winnings (which was like. Hundreds of thousands of dollars and two telephoto camera lenses for some reason. And a green and purple feather boa) but I just took enough to buy a new motorcycle and told him to hide it from his past mother so they're not suspicious.

___

Okay subconscious, doing laundry with the elves of mirkwood is NOT becoming a reoccurring dream. Three times is enough. Stop now. ____

I was an undercover secret agent posing as the nanny to a royal family's children. The children had a pool party for the oldest's birthday, and I was in charge of the yacht rides in the aquarium tank. Halfway through the dream, Pirates attacked with large assault rifles, trolls, and fire elementals. I managed to save some of the children, but then Katina was healing the ones that had been injured when a Shadow quick deathbed them and I had to resort to Improv comedy to keep the remaining kids from screaming as their friends turned to ghosts around us. None of the adults would listen to me that the attack had been planned, they were convinced that it was random, and despite the fact that I had a way to turn back time and catch the one woman who had started the fight they refused to do anything but complain that dinner had been delayed.

#me #personal #dreams #why do I have such weird dreams #why do i remember ALL OF MY DREAMS #I very rarely forget dreams when I wake up

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vechkinfan · 6 years

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End of Me ~ Part 3 (Bucky Barnes)

A/N: Hope you guys like this part, I enjoyed writing the fluff. Please let me know what you think!! I’m a sucker for comments hahah (There is Russian in this part and i’m sorry if its totally wrong, I tried my best.... You will definitely find out what it all means in the next part though, I PROMISE) If you wanted to be TAGGED, Please leave a comment :D

Words: 5667 (Sorry, Not sorry)

Warning: Fluff, Fluff and Bucky trying to be Fluffy.

Summary: Calin’s demon finally makes an appearance, and one super solider gets in the way to help bring her back to reality.

Part 1 // Part 2

It had been a long night, the longest she had experienced in quite awhile actually. It reminded her of those nights in the facility, where the screaming echoed off the concrete walls amplifying the noises. Where the crying from the other kids seeped into her brain, despite how hard she held her hands over her ears. Willing… pleading for the world to go silent, even if it was just for a moment, just so she could close her eyes.

She had been laying on Steve's floor staring up at the ceiling, listening to him snore softly. Calin envied him, how easily he found sleep. Even in the near silence of his room, she couldn't even dream of catching a wink. Every time she shut her eyes visions would plague her, images of Bucky, Steve, of Wanda and Bruce. Her imagination did not discriminate on who it picked to torture her with. Cause the flashes of images always ended the same, with the Avengers dead and their blood on her hands.

Sitting up from the floor, Calin ran a tired hand through her hair, before pulling it up in a messy bun. She knew her demon was the cause of the vivid imagery. It had seemed to find some foothold in her subconscious and it didn't want to let go. For over six years Calin had fought with her inner self, pushed her down, kept her buried under good memories she had started to form. But six years was to long for her demon she supposed, it wanted out, it wanted blood. Afterall it was use to coming out several times a week, back at the height of her treatments. There might have been restraints involved, but it still got to breathe some fresh air.

The plan was to wear Calin down until she couldn't fight it anymore. Once all her resolve was gone, it would have total control. And total control meant being able to do whatever the hell it wanted.

Letting out a shaky breath, Calin rose to her feet. Quietly creeping over to Steve's desk, she scribbled out a note stating she was alright and that she would meet them in the med bay later. She had to mentally prepare for the onslaught of tests Bruce had been hankering to perform. The man had been curious about her since she walked into the tower six years ago.

Calin didn't have high hopes for there to actually be a fix to this nightmare better known as her mind. There were only a few things that could be done at this point. They could either restrain her somewhere so her demon could make a very dramatic entrance like it always liked to do, or they could kill her. Preferably not the latter, death was something she begged for when she was with HYDRA, but she didn't want to give up the people who slowly became her family here at the tower. They were her everything, despite her best attempts not to show it.

The thought of letting her demon out made her cringe though. It was a violent experience, at least for herself. The event draining her already depleted energy to the point where it was like she was paralyzed. Awake and aware of what was happening, but unable to do much about it. Not that it mattered back then, she enjoyed the reprieve. To make the situation worse Calin really didn't know how long it would take to fight her way back into control this time. This thing had been lying dormant for years, so the possibility of herself not even coming back was a reality. So in the end death might be the only option, either at her own hands or one of her friends.

Groaning softly, she made her way out of Steve's room, ever so gently shutting the door behind herself. Knowing his super soldier hearing would pick up on the lock latching if she wasn't careful. She merely wanted a morning of peace to herself, knowing it was Saturday, most everyone was sleeping in after a busy week of training and missions. Tony and Bruce wouldn't be up until about eight as usual, so she had a few hours before good old Steve Rogers blew her in for last night's discussions.

Calins feet absentmindedly carried her down the hallway, the morning sun creeping in through the windows basking the walls in a soft orange glow. She had expected to be alone but when she plowed into a large mass, regret flooded her like a levy snapping in two.

She stumbled slightly, a strong metal hand coming out and taking hold of her elbow, steadying her form. Bucky had been up early, pacing the entire length of the hall in front of Steve's room, waiting patiently for someone to get up. He had to stop himself from smashing the door down several times just wanting to rip this God forsaken band aid off. All he wanted was a chance to apologize, to see her smile, and to hold her again.

“Sorry.” Her voice was weak as she took her arm from his grip. Not even looking up at him, knowing if she even glanced into those steely blue orbs, she'd fall right back into the trap known as Bucky Barnes. Like some mindless bug heading straight for the beautiful light of a bug zapper.

“It's ok.” He added cautiously, seeing how distant she was trying to be. Calin wouldn't even look at him, her gaze solely fixed on the hardwood floor. His heart tightened painfully in his chest, seeing what he had done to them, what he did to their relationship.

Without thinking he found his left hand gently raising up, his metal fingers smoothing against the skin of her cheek, an action that he was so use to doing with his girl. The feel of hot flesh against cold vibranium, sending a wave of pleasure shooting through his body. Oh how he missed touching her, feeling her with something that should not even be able to distinguish between materials. Yet here he was, using the pad of his thumb to trace her cheek, feeling every inch of her soft, supple skin beneath him.

He was surprised she didn't pull back from his touch, knowing how upset she was with him. It had taken Bucky so very long to gain every bit of trust she had to offer, that he was certain he'd had lost a good part of it, especially because Calin was someone who didn't forgive or forget easily.

It had taken two years of patient trust building to even able to brush his hand against her own without there being a panic look spreading across her face. From there he slowly allowed his actions to become more intimate and less friend like, trying to show her how he truly felt. It amused Bucky to see how oblivious she was at times. Letting his hand linger on the small of her back as they walked out of a room, how Bucky tried to catch her hand to pull her into a hug, all those things and many more seemed to go right over her head. Even Steve caught onto Bucky's lame attempts at woohing her. Only laughing, remembering how easy Bucky had it back in the day when it came to women. However things needed to be spelled out for Calin, in big bold letters, and in part Bucky knew it was because of her time with HYDRA.

But the girl was like a safe with the lock rusted shut, if it were to open it would need to be pried. She never spoke about her time in Moscow, never hinted at how long she had been held captive, or the things they did to her. It didn't take a brainyak to figure that she was probably tortured, it was HYDRA’s preferred method of captivity afterall. Whenever they spent time cuddled next to one another on the couch he used to pan her face discretely. Looking for scars or burns, anything to let him know what she had been through. He was thankful he didn't see any, and he silently hoped those ass holes spared her of the same pain they put him through.

In truth, that was part of the reason he never told Calin how he truly felt. Over the years she had put on a good front of healing, but every once in awhile flickers of her old terrified self would resurface. Anything regarding physical interactions still scared her especially when Steve or himself weren't nearby, she would flinch away from high-fives from Sam, cringe almost painfully if someone accidentally brushed up against her. He watched her more times than he'd care to count clutching the fabric of one of her sweatshirts, as if she was trying to shield away any unwanted attention. Bucky was already pushing his luck in that department, and figured it was safer to stay in the ‘friendzone’ as Wanda called it.

He knew she was not ready for a relationship when his feelings had developed, she had barely had a hold on friendships at the time. Hell, when he first got out of HYDRA’s grip he certainly wasn't anywhere close to being ready for a relationship. He had to focus solely on himself, and that's what Bucky tried to do for Calin. But Calin was never one to stick to the plans. She seemed to have helped Bucky more so, especially when his nightmares crept back. Which only made his love for the girl stronger.

Bucky sighed contently, continuing to let his fingers run against her skin. She remained quiet and unmoving, her eyes still not finding the courage to look up at him. After a few moments he felt her tilt her head into the palm of his hand, trying to gain more contact. Calin was fighting an internal battle, one wanting her to lash out at Bucky, wanting to yell and scream, telling him he had no right to touch her. However, the bigger, weaker side of herself was enjoying his fingers far too much. Her body missing the cool of the metal that always seemed to send a surge of peace through herself, calming all the frayed nerves that were just waiting to be lit up again.

“Can we talk?” Those three little words were all it took to break Calin out of the trance though. The three fucking words that brought this whole Bucky debacle upon herself weeks ago.

Her lip curled up in disgust, pulling away from his ministrations as if they scalded her skin. “You want to talk? Didn't you already do that?” Calin snapped harshly, stepping back a few feet to put distance between the two of them. “You wanted nothing to do with me Bucky, so why should I even consider listening to a word you have to say now?”

Bucky didn't know what hurt worse, that he had opened his big mouth, ruining their perfectly blissful encounter. Or the way Calins eyes glared with utter hatred at him, an anger swirling dangerously close to the surface of those hazel eyes. He swallowed thickly, uncertain how to respond. This was not how he had planned to patch things up with his girl, so he was at a loss currently. His brain spinning with ideas that certainly would piss her off even further, which was not the goal. ‘Calin’ and ‘pissed’ were never words that should be used in the same sentence, because when she was angry she became a totally different person.

So instead of making matters worse, Bucky's eyes softened, and settled with a matter of fact statement. “I miss you.”

Her mouth opened and shut promptly, clearly not expecting to hear those words. No, in truth Calin expected him to just give her more reasons as to why he couldn't spend time with her.

“What?” She furrowed her brows, still confused.

Bucky gave a weak smile seeing how flustered she became. “I miss you Calin.” He stated again, this time reaching his hand back out to her cheek. Wanting nothing more than to feel that blissful blistering heat against him.

However it never made it close, Calin hitting his arm away from herself. “You don't get to do this Bucky, you don't get to fuck with me like this. I've done everything you've ever asked of me, I tried to be a friend to you and you basically threw me away.” Calin was angry again, her emotions so heightened that it took hardly anything to upset her. “Believe me I know I'm fucked up, and I'm hardly worth the time you've spent with me, but that day… it felt.” Calin swallowed thickly, her hand tightening into a fist at her side, her knuckles turning a ghostly shade of white. “You know what, forget it.”

Taking a steadying breath, Calin looked over the man before her, eyes panning his face searching for anything. She wasn't even quite sure what she was looking for to be honest. A sign? Some kind of blinding light pointing her in the right direction? All she got was Bucky Barnes staring at her, in all his wayward puppy dog glory.

She needed to go.

Turning on her heels she started her way back towards Steve's room. Leaving Bucky right where he stood, leaving him just like he had left her. But she wasn't expecting Bucky to move just a quick, reaching out, wrapping his fingers around her wrist tightly. The act, so innocent yet so familiar. Flooding her mind with memories of how the guards use to grab her flailing body as they dragged her down the dark musty hallways. How their hands, nearly twice the size of her own at the time crushed her wrist with little effort, only the reverberating sound of snapping bone making them release the tension a bit. How when they learned of her powers, they caged her hands together with vibranium binding, only to then drag her kicking and screaming down the hall by a chain like some animal.

The images flashed before her like a movie, and it was one of those moments when time seemed to stop all together. Seconds felt like hours, as she stood there unmoving, feeling a surge of energy hit her consciousness. It knocked her, shook her mind so powerfully Calin knew exactly what was happening. Her other half found it's chance and was not wasting the opportunity. In these times Calin usually accepted it, almost wanting her to make an appearance. Now… oh no, now was not the time. She may hate Bucky at the moment but she would never willing wish for him to be in harm's way and harm's fucking way was exactly what he was in currently.

Biting down on her lip Calin screamed painfully, trying with all her might to keep it at bay. Pushing it back down in the depths of her mind, but it had other plans.

The feeling could be equated to a tidal wave, hitting her at full force causing her to lose her mental footing. Sending Calin falling into an icy pit of darkness that was so thick it made it nearly impossible to move or fight back. Her arms weighed down, so heavy and cumbersome that it felt like she was drowning.

This had never happened quite like this before. Calin had always been a willing participant in the change over. No, this was like that movie Bucky had made her watch, the one with the spartans. One swift kick to the chest and she was falling into a seemingly endless pit of pitch black nothingness, while her other half watched from above. A grin tugging at the corners of her own lips, giving a parting wave. Before Calins body slammed agonizingly into the rough bottom of the pit.

Bucky…

The mere thought of him had her starting to panic. He was in the real world dealing with her other half, her demon right now . Nobody had ever seen it, or dealt with it, she could have already killed half the people in the tower by now. Time didn't work the same being trapped inside the mind, so what felt like minutes could actually be days. So the longer she didn't fight, the more time she let her demon go on its rampage.

She struggled desperately, pulling herself to her feet, hobbling around the circular pit, her arms clawing at anything that would bring her back into control. There was nothing, no holds, no footings, nothing. There had always been something to cling to, something to climb her way back up. Frankly she had never been put here, she usually had one hand on the wheel with her demon, seeing what was going on. Now… not so much.

“возвращайся ко мне.” It was a soft distant voice that called out. Causing her struggling body to stop for a moment, listening.

“Любовь моя, пожалуйста.” Again the voice sounded, pleading to her almost.The noise reverberating off the walls of her mind. Making Calin look around frantically, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

A quiet sob left her lips when her eyes panned upward following the sound, seeing the tiny spec of light. It was so very far away, but she knew that's where the voice was coming from, she knew that's the direction she needed to go in order to take control again.

Wading over to the darkened wall, she pounded her fist violent against the barrier. Her limbs feeling uncomfortably heavy with each swing she took. Hours, it had begun to feel like hours had passed, her hands raw from the continuous barrage but her efforts getting her no closer to Bucky… just more exhausted. And the more tired she was, the longer this processes would last.

“Bucky! You fucking leave him alone.” Calin shouted loudly, rage clear in her voice as it bounced off the walls. But when nothing happened, and the light remained out of reach she choked back a pained whimper. Resting her forehead on the cold surface, her hands splayed out beside her. “Please… just leave him alone, leave them all alone.”

Turning around, she let her back hit the wall before sinking down to the floor. The air getting thicker, the darkness wrapping itself around her limbs pulling her back. Coxing her into a state of acceptance. It wanted her stuck there, just like Calin had done to it. It was gonna keep her trapped for as long as it could, make up for lost time.

“пожалуйста.” That last word, Calin could finally tell it was Bucky’s voice, pleading.

It was Russian, but she knew he was asking her, please. The sound echoing in her mind, stirring up all the things that could be happening to him at this moment. Things that were even worse than her time with HYDRA no doubt. She'd bare every torturous minute back in that facility, just to save him. Save him from herself.

With that thought it felt like she was shot out of a cannon. Body flinging up into the air and out of the hole she was pushed into. Bypassing the climbing option all together.

Calin landed on the ground violently, her breathing ragged as she lay there for a moment. The heat from her breath fanning out against the cold floor, fogging it a little. Vision blurry, her eyes blinked back the haze, trying to see clearly. Her body still shaking and exhausted from the fight it just went through. However Calin was unsure of what was going on or where she was at the moment. She supposed it was another level of her mind, the next barrier between her and her demon. Or she could be back in the real world, but that seemed way to easy.

“Cal….” She lifted her head slightly, seeing that she was actually back in the hallway.

Bucky was laying on the ground beside her, blood dripping from his nose and a large gouge in his cheek. He was staring at her like he had just seen a ghost. His hand gently rubbing his throat, the skin raw looking. In truth he had never witnessed anything quite like that before.

“D-did I hurt you?” Calin asked shakily, her voice quivering in fear. Worried that she hurt him badly. “Did I hurt anyone?”

Pushing herself up onto her hands, she dragged herself towards him cautiously. Keeping a slight buffer zone, uncertain as to how Bucky was going to react. She was surprised he didn't run off screaming, or better yet, find the nearest phone to call Fury. He was always waiting for something like this to happen.

Instead after a few breathless moments of staring, Bucky moved towards her effortlessly. Pulling her weak body into his arms and onto his lap, cradling her against his chest. “No, I'm fine.” He finally spoke, his voice lower than usual. “You're my Calin right, you're my best girl?” Bucky asked, needing to be reassured that she was back. Actually back.

Calin wasn't lying when she said her powers were better left unknown. It only took a split second and the girl he loved had turned into a unrecognizable monster. Eyes dark as a stormy night, swirling with a mixture of hatred and rage. Whatever it was, listened to no reason and was clearly out for blood. It had attacked Bucky so violently that he wasn't sure what to do. It was Calins body, but her mind, the things that made Calin herself were no longer there.

She sure as hell didn't pull punches either, picking him up like he weighed nothing, sending him straight into the nearest wall. His body crushing the drywall like paper, and destroying Tony's one of a kind desk to the point where it wouldn't even be useful for kindling. The commotion was loud enough that it had stirred several people, Steve included. But he told them to stay back, not wanting anyone else to get involved. That's when he began to plead with her.

Bucky knew she could understand Russian, she had caught him whispering it to her one night when he had thought she was asleep. It was little words, a poem, nothing major but the sheepish grin that pulled on her lips gave it away. Calin said she understood it but didn't know how to speak it well, so he was hoping this shared memory would trigger her to come back to him.

He whispered and pleaded as the girl focused her attention on him again, lifting him up without even touching him. A swirl of black smoke engulfing his body slowly. The final, please, seemed to grab her though. The black in her eyes flickering back and forth between her hazel ones, before she shook her head violently. Yelling out in disgust, clearly upset with what was happening. Calins hands moved, dropping him to the ground with a loud thud as she screamed out louder, the sound so guttural that it had him wincing before the darkness completely dissipated. Her body collapsing soon after.

“I didn't mean to do that.” Her scared voice brought Bucky back to reality. Causing him to pull her tighter to his chest. His head leaning down to rest against her. “You h-have to believe m-me.”

She looked exhausted, as his metal hand came to sooth her cheek. “Its ok, I have you now. I've got you Cal.” He whispered, gently wiping away the stray tears that began to roll down her face. She never cried, never in the whole time he'd known her. So Bucky knew this was serious, and it made his chest tighten painfully. He was at a loss, and it killed him to think he couldn't do anything to put Calin at ease.

He felt her arms wrap around him, burying her face into the front of his shirt. His eyes looking over her tired form, seeing most of the team standing there silently with looks of both shock and concern.

The hall was a war zone of drywall bits and over turned furniture. Broken glass dotted the floor, a clear reminder she had literally shattered every window in sight with little more than a flick of her finger.

After a few hesitant minutes, Bucky saw Steve inch his way closer, hands out in surrender. “Buck… I think we should get you two to the med bay.” His voice remained calm as he spoke, not wanting to startle the girl who was plastered to his best friends chest. “Calin? What do you think kid. Can you do that for us?” Steve addressed her this time, seeing her back quack beneath her sweatshirt.

Calin swallowed thickly, listening to her friend, her fingers bunching in the fabric of Bucky's shirt. “Y-yeah.”

Shifting ever so slowly till she was sitting up, Calin viciously wiped at her tear stain cheeks. Feeling Bucky’s hand gently rest on her back to keep her steady.

“Can you guys give us a second?” Bucky asked, as he rubbed circles into her back calmingly. His eyes looking over the crowd that was still congregating in the hall. Wanda and Nat looked the most upset, and if he didn't say anything the two would try to be right over here. Bucky knew Calin wouldn't want that attention. It was a sign of weakness to her, and she hated to seem weak.

He could sense the shame and embarrassment rolling off her in waves just sitting there. Watching as her heavy lidded eyes scanned the destruction she had left behind. Bucky didn't want her to stress out further, that was the last thing they all needed at the moment.

“No problem.” Steve nodded his head at his friend before turning around. “Lets go people, back to bed.” He motioned with his arms, making everyone slowly make their way back towards their rooms. His head turning back once to check on them before he disappeared behind his door. Out of sight but still within earshot incase a situation came up again.

Leaving Bucky alone with Calin.

She had said nothing, her eyes blankly staring out at the Bucky sized hole in Tony's wall. An ache in her chest forming, thinking about what she probably did to him that did that kind of damage.

“Hey, I'm fine.” Bucky smoothed her hair, knowing that Calin was dwelling on what had just happened. Ever since she sat up her eyes hadn't left the hole in the wall. But when his words didn't seem to pull her from her thoughts, his hand came up, timidly moving her chin so she was eye to eye with him. “Cal… I'm more worried about you darling. I know I shouldn't have grabbed you like that, it was stupid on my part.”

“It.. it reminded me of how the guards used to grab me.” She says absentmindedly, her gaze dropping to her wrists that were covered by the sleeves of the sweatshirt. “They broke my wrists a couple times…” Her voice was small, as she slid the fabric up slightly. Bucky's eyes settling on the faded scares that adorned the inside of her wrists. They were relatively small in size and if she hadn't drawn attention to them he would have never even known.

With slow calculating movements Bucky took one of her hands in his own, bringing her wrist to his lips. Kissing the soft blistering flesh ever so gently wishing he could take all that pain away with it.

This was big for him, in two ways. One, Calin had just willing told him something about her past. A topic that had been tight lipped from the moment she arrived at the tower. Even though it angered him to know someone manhandled her so hard they snapped her wrist. It was quite a feet to be honest, since Calin was no weakling. And two, he had just kissed her. It may have been innocently placed on her wrist, but it was all he could ever ask for. A chance… one moment to show her what she meant to him. That he loved her too Goddamn much to lose her.

Bucky's hand continued to make small circles on her back, his eyes watching her carefully. She seemed lost, her fingers nervously fiddling with the edge of her fraying sweatshirt. Picking at the loose strings over and over again.

“It's gonna happen again.” Her voice broke the silence after a few minutes. It was hoarse, as if she had just spent the last hour screaming.

Furrowing his brows Bucky stiffened, “Now?” He cautiously asked, hoping it wasn't the case. Her powers were beyond whatever his super soldier abilities could handle. She'd crush him with little more than a blink of an eye.

Letting out a small breath, Calin shook her head before glancing up at Bucky. “No.” Her eyes panned his tired drawn in face, the scruff on his face heavier than normal. The large gash she put in the side of his cheek still bleeding, leaving trails of crimson liquid running down to his chin. “I'm sorry.” She quietly added, using her sleeve to wipe away the blood. “I was so worried I was going to lose you Bucky. That I wouldn't be able to come back in time to stop myself…”

Another wave of stinging tears threatened to emerge, welling behind her eyes dangerously. But in an instant she felt Bucky's arm tighten around her body. His vibranium fingers dancing softly against the skin of her cheek, making her eyes meet his own again. “I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. If you need to, I will sit right here in this hallway all day with you.” He whispered softly.

She was so close to him, he could smell the sweet scent of green apple from her body spray. It drew him like a month to a burning hot flame. Against his better judgement he moved his face a bit closer to hers, watching for any signs of distress. But when she continued to silently watch, her breathing steady he took his chance. “Can.. Can I kiss you?” He asked for permission first, knowing Calin needed to feel safe. She needed to agree to it before he'd do anything rash.

Narrowing her eyes, she felt her heart begin to race. He was dangerously close, and her mind was swirling. This seemed like some cruel joke to her, having Bucky like this. Maybe she was still trapped in her mind and her demon was giving her something to keep her occupied. If that was the case, why not just play along. Why not just give in… Maybe find some kind of peace? Even if it was just fake.

Calin nodded her head hesitantly, not dropping her gaze. A small smile tugged at Bucky's lips, and his fingers cupped her cheek ever so gently. His movements soft and meticulous as not to startle her. Bucky hesitated only for a second, looking into her eyes trying to read the emotions hidden in them. Searching for any sign that her mind may have changed, but when he was met with nothing, he leaned in closer and let his lips gently brush against Calins. Her eyes fluttered closed instantly at the contact, and Bucky revelled in the heat.

It was a sweet, innocent kiss, and Bucky left it at that. Pulling away just enough so his forehead rested against her own. “I waited too long to do that. I've waited too long for a lot of things Calin. And I need you to know… there was never anyone else. I pulled away ‘cause I thought I was going to hurt you.” Bucky closed his eyes as he spoke, knowing he had to come clean once and for all, to just tell her the truth. This was his shot. “I've been having these nightmares… where I kill you, and I couldn't handle it. I just didn't want them to come true. There's no way I could live with myself if your blood was on my hands.” He breathed out fearfully, both hands cupping her face now. Needing to touch her, needing to show her the fear he had felt when those images flooded his mind.

Calin froze at this words, letting the weight of them sink in. He had pulled away because of nightmares? Almost the same type of nightmares she had been having?

Letting out a huff, Calin shook her head with an annoyed groan. She knew exactly what was going on now, feeling incredibly stupid for not seeing it sooner. Her demon… this was all it's doing. It fucked with Bucky so he'd leave her, and it knew how big of a blow that'd be. It had been the first crack in the impervious armor she had built up over the years. Then to hammer the final nail in the coffin, it conjured up nightmares for Calin as well. Breaking down her walls just enough to slip right through. This was all calculated, planned out so it could escape. The smart little bitch. Calin knew it had been fucking with herself… but to go after someone else… that was new, something that seemed impossible. But the similarities were striking, too coincidental to ignore. It was growing stronger clearly. Which wasn't good.

Seeing how dejected Bucky looked, Calin leaned in and pressed her lips against his softly again. Her body almost needing another taste, just to make sure it was real. Because in truth, she still didn't believe this was actually occurring.

“Let's go find Tony… I think it's time you guys know what happened. At least so you know what you're dealing with.” She murmured against his lips. “I owe it to you.” Closing her eyes, she felt his hands leave her face and carefully found purchase around her waist.

It was time to face the demons of her past and present.

Tags: @this-kitty-has-claws @debbienewnes84 @peacefulwriter88 @zofty15 @xgminigypsy @greenhands5 @toniinhere @buckysinthesinbin @imsupernaturalbaby @prettybubblesintheair @leijona-writes @lukescool @melaninmarvel @sophiealiice @iamwarrenspeace @badassbaker @rediscoveringdebbie84 @zofty15 @readtosurvivemusictolive @whirlybirbs @projectxhappiness @imeannooffensebabybut @its-daydreamer23

#End of Me #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x plus size reader #fluff #marvel #winter solider imagine #winter solider #bucky barnes x reader

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some-flyleaves · 6 years

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when I pick up a book called What the #@&% is That? I know I’m in for a ride, for better or for worse

conclusion: inconclusive, but you can get quite a variety outta the prompt “a character has to say or think the phrase ‘what the [fuck] is that’”

So this book came in the library a few months ago; checked it out, read one or two stories, drowned in schoolwork, returned it, and have since read it on and off when things are slow and I got nothing better to do. (Yeah, I get paid to sit around and read sometimes. It’s a good gig.) Finally finished it tonight and, well. It’s a thing!

Aside from the titular phrase, none of the stories are connected - different authors, different writing styles, hell even different genres. Have some bullet-point thoughts.

“Mobility” by Laird Barron is... weird. I vaguely remember reading that the guy is a master of cosmic horror, and if this is how the genre usually works then I’m in no rush to read Lovecraft. Surreal imagery turns into pretentious metaphors turns into torture porn turns into surreal pretentious metaphors. Not a fan.

“Fossil Heart” by Amanda Walker is, uh, gay? I think?? I’d need to reread this one to get a better grasp on it but I’m in no rush. From what I remember, it’s about a woman who’s literally haunted by her past (got her girlfriend killed or drowned or something?) and then... changes that. somehow? I guess??? The prose is dreamlike, present tense, and while I’m all for not spoonfeeding the audience, I feel like I don’t remember this one as well because I didn’t really understand what was going on. It was one of the earlier stories I read, to be fair, but I also recall other early stories much more vividly.

“Those Goddamn Cookies” by Scott Sigler is clever as hell, and while the progression is a tad predictable post-twist reveal, I was definitely not expecting a little space scifi out of this book. There are some nice characterization touches throughout, the intersection of thoughts and narrative gets intense when needed, and honestly? Would not have called the ending when the intro has the protagonist smelling fresh-baked cookies.

“The Sound of Her Laughter” by Simon R. Green is apparently forgettable enough I needed to skim it again just now to remember what the hell it was about. There’s a couple. Unreal stuff happens, I guess. Characterization was alright...? Uh. Yeah. No dislike but not impressed.

“Down and Deep in the Dark” by Desirina Boskovich is at least memorable, albeit for mixed reasons. Narrated by a snarky teenager(/young woman? I forget the age) whose brother is getting married, the story finds narrator whatshername in charge of babysitting her near-future nephew. It doesn’t seem particularly horrific until ~things go wrong~, something with animals turning up dead by the hotel the family’s staying at and rooms in the hallway that shouldn’t be there.... The first-person and initially casual tone were a nice change of pace, but once the buildup started, it kinda just seemed like creepy stuff for the sake of Creepy Stuff. And of course the aforementioned nephew gets to be a creepy child, because of course he is. I have a habit of reading spoilers before actually getting into a piece of media, which in the case of short stories means skipping to the end before reading from the start. Sometimes the buildup and resolution is very clever, and at least one story later still caught me off-guard once I knew the context of the twist! But sometimes, as with this story... Stuff Just Happens.

“Only Unclench Your Hand” by Isabel Yap is mildly haunting with an ending that, while not exactly thought-provoking, sports just the kind of... not bittersweet, but it’s got a hesitant, uncertain vibe that I can’t quite put into words but always appreciate. Also narrated in first-person by a youngish gal whose name and exact age I forget, the story finds her studying abroad in a small village where everyone knows everyone, for better or for worse. The family she’s staying with has a couple daughters, one around the narrator’s age and the other younger but thankfully not in the “obligatory annoying sibling” way. And then Shit Goes Wrong(TM), but in a less random way than the previous story, and from what I remember it’s not even that heavy on the supernatural stuff until later! Overall a good read with an interesting twist. Also canon gay, I think. There’s a pleasantly surprising amount of Gal Pals(TM) in this anthology.

“Little Widows” by Maria Dahvana Headley also has gals who are friends (not romantic though), cults, and... dinosaurs, I guess? Its premise is interesting enough - “sisters” raised in a cult encounter their “Preacher” and Comeuppance Ensues - in a way that begs to be taken seriously but... can’t, really, imo. Weird Religious Cult(TM) is already asking or some suspension of disbelief from me, since while of course they exist they’re a lot less common than their prominence media would suggest, but fuckign. dinosaurs? when the story up until then has been grounded enough?? Yeah, nah, ya lost me.

“The Bad Hour” by Christopher Golden is BRILLIANT. That thing I mentioned about skipping to the end first? applies here, and this is the story that still floored me once I finished it. An army veteran visits a closed-in town for reasons that aren’t revealed upfront but make for some great fridge logic, and I can’t say much else without spoiling but it’s very much worth a read. Great atmosphere, interesting characters, holy shit.

“What is Lost, What is Given Away” by John Langan is another story I had to skim just now to remember and even then Iiiiii got nothin. The narrator attends a high school reunion and eldritchy stuff happens to a guy or something. I vaguely remember thinking some moments were clever when I was reading but apparently not too clever. V: Also, it’s long. Next.

“Now and Forever” by D. Thomas Minton is about a father protecting his family from a mysterious Fiend in a vaguely post-apocalyptic setting. Until he isn’t. Can’t say much else without giving it away but while it does its job, I wasn’t a huge fan. Spoiler alert: unreliable narrators aren’t my favorite trope, though I appreciate that we didn’t learn right off the bat the guy wasn’t actually doing his job as well as he thought he was. Or was he. For obvious reasons, the circumstances are left vague; presumably you can pick up a few more worldbuilding details on a reread, but I think I’ll pass.

“#ConnollyHouse #WeShouldntBeHere” by Seanan McGuire is creative as all hell, and even if the scares given are kinda flat, I gotta give it points for format alone. As the title might suggest, the entire story is told in a series of tweets from @boo_peep, including timestamp, hashtags, and retweets from @friends as they, as part of a regular haunted house exploration gig, delve into the titular Connolly House. The format makes for a breezy read, and a certain twist will probably have you rereading just to catch some fun little details. Which is impressive, considering character limit is (presumably? I ain’t counting) obeyed throughout. And when Boo Peep isn’t SCREAMING about the hell she’s seeing, there’s an awful lot left to the imagination. #FunTimes

“The House that Love Built” by Grady Hendrix is also forgettable. There’s a guy. He dates women. People die. Wheee. Actually, it was this or the other one with the couple where I at least liked a couple characterization tidbits. Maybe both? But yeah, not my favorite. Movin’ on.

“We All Make Sacrifices: A Sam Hunter Adventure” by Jonathan Maberry is, on one hand, a cookie cutter story about a cynical vigilante-ex-cop, and honestly I kinda regret looking up the author’s other work after reading because it pointed me towards reviews calling out his writing for being so tropey. Because while reading? Might be that I’m not too familiar with the mystery genre, but it was a heckin fun ride. Great characterization, both on behalf of the titular protagonist and the various side characters, even if the antagonist being described as (paraphrasing) “pretty much your typical entitled rich boy” gets a little grating. The story is cliche but shamelessly so, and eh, I usually don’t care for that but it got me anyway. Also, Hunter is a werewolf. That’s fun and it spoke to my old flame of werecanine appreciation but shhh.

“Ghost Pressure” by Gemma Files is... kinda all over the place? a bit? Horror, now at a senior home. I wasn’t entirely clear on who the narrative was following, and while the means of Supernatural Horror is interesting, it leaves a lot to be desired. Ah well, shout out for being about the older among us, I guess? Come to think of it, it could’ve done something thematically with the whole “no one wants you anymore/the people who take care of you are dead” idea, but it... didn’t. discernibly. to me.

“The Daughter out of Darkness” by Nancy Holder features a misogynist unreliable narrator, presented as a sort of case file. Does its job I guess, but lost me at the “letter from an asylum” setup.

“Framing Mortensen” by Adam-Troy Castro is one of if not the favorite story of mine in here, because holy SHIT, is it vivid in all the wrong ways. The narrator has a hellish grudge against Mortensen, for reasons I don’t quite remember and that aren’t terribly important anyway. The real horror (and call for suspension of disbelief) is in what he does with the guy, both in terms of “murder” because of course he does and subsequent, er, treatment. It’s dawning on me this makes it sound like a necrophilia nightmare but it’s not torture porn I swear. Also, if the opening story failed at eldritch abomination-type horror, this one more than compensates by the end. Another good read, would definitely recommend.

“The Catch” by Terence Taylor also features a rather despicable narrator, and while I’m tired as anyone of ~ooh no serial killer who has no feelings what a [insert outdated psychology buzzwords here]~, I gotta say this surprised me. It’s... weird. Not really pornographic but because of Reasons it may raise some eyebrows. Can’t say more than that without giving away the big twist, but I’ll admit the ending threw me for a loop and not for unforeshadowed reasons. Bonus points for fridge brilliance in the title!

“Hunters in the Wood” by Tim Pratt is gay, now with dudes, and also trying really hard to be a hunger games spinoff while lampooning the very premise of the hunger games and dystopias like it. (Side note: I have not actually read or watched The Hunger Games. Writing style didn’t catch me, not too interested in the movies.) Take the self-aware commentary from the Sam Hunter story, boost it way up in some expository worldbuilding, throw in some vague eldritchy stuff, and you get this. Mind, it doesn’t last, but it was just annoying enough to me while it did that I wasn’t too invested in the rest of the story. Ah well. I just wish it was bigger on the eldritch and smaller on the totally-not-social-commentary.

“Whose Drowned Face Sleeps” by An Owomoyela and Rachel Swirsky is, for lack of a better word, haunting. Like “Fossil Heart,” it’s got an almost dreamlike narrative style while the actual events are... sorta down to earth? more or less? Except not really, but once the weird stuff starts happening, you’re in the appropriate mood. I found the execution much better here though, between most events being much less vague & more grounded characters. And while exactly what happens and why is unclear, it blurs that line between psychological “haunting” and real life disaster in a way that reminds me of Paranoia Agent. Mind, I read this one tonight and the earlier on months ago; to really compare/contrast I’d have to reread both in one sitting. (Also, could have done without the allusions to sex scenes but At Least It’s Lesbians(TM).)

“Castleweep” by Alan Dean Foster is the closing story of this anthology and boy is it a “love, hate, or love to hate” narrative. A rich tourist and his girlfriend are taking a trip through the ~jungles of Africa~ and he’s about as entitled as you might expect. The narrative doesn’t bend over backwards to condemn the guy because it pulls no punches letting his thought process speak for itself, whether he’s talking his guide into a side trip to a forbidden castle or sticking to his pride when the detour soon proves less than worthwhile. By the time the horror kicks in, you may or may not want the fucker dead anyway - the story seems aware of this and lavishes on the grotesque details. Which... I found unnecessary, and the reasons for the castle being haunted as it was were decently foreshadowed but heavy-handed as hell. Decent enough read if you wanna see a snobby dude and his girlfriend (the latter of whom deserves better, tbfh) get brutally mauled...!

Overall, for a cover and title that promise top notch eldritch horror, the actual stories range from generic spooky shit to really clever but not necessarily scary plot twists and story developments to... what the fuck did I just read. Seriously, a good amount of the phrase drops weren’t even at some big moment of Monsterening - there weren’t even monsters (in the nonhuman creature sense, blablabla ~humanity is the real monster~) in like... half of these? So if that’s what you expect, back out. Also, none of these are gonna keep me awake at night, and I wouldn’t say I have a particularly high tolerance to horror (good ol’ fashioned creepypastas and jumpscares can and have given me all-nighters), but YMMV on that.

However!! Despite my middling reviews on most of these, there are a few that really stand out, and I’d say the anthology is worth checking out just for those. Not a read I regret, overall. And everyone didn’t even die at the end!

(Oh, and did I mention it’s pretty gay? I counted like... at least three Gal Pal duos and one #YesHomo couple, and while I’m definitely not about to get into a story just because it has ~representation~ and the m/f couples probably outnumber 'em by a long shot, it was still a nice surprise. Just sayin’.)

#tonight on 'I need a tag for spontaneous media reviews'#.rtf #this is partially for my own reference because I wanna revisit some of these stories #but like hell if I'll remember them by name alone

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danithebookaholic-blog · 6 years

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An Audio Book Extra

The Goldfinch

By Donna Tartt; Narrated by David Pittu

Over the last few years I have come across and, rather quickly, dismissed The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. I can give no reason as to why, but for some reason I would see it sitting on a shelf, and then move on to the next book or item beside it. I never picked it up to hold it in my hands. I never turned it over to read the synopsis on the back cover. I never brushed my fingers along the golden feathers of the little finch that so much of the book is about. I simply saw it, judged it, and moved on.

What made me buy it all of a sudden on Audible, again, I can't explain, but I'm happy that I did. The book kind of disappeared from view for me for a while and then all of sudden, there is was again, back in my life, much like the goldfinch does with Theodore Decker, the main character and narrator of the story.

And since beginning this book - I won't lie, it has taken me a couple months to get through it - it has arisen time and time again since. Every time I have stepped into a bookstore, an airport, or even the supermarket, there it is, staring at me.

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Some History:

Donna Tartt is an American writer who received critical acclaim for her first two novels, The Secret History and The Little Friend, which have been translated into thirty languages. Tartt was the 2003 winner of the WH Smith Literary Award for The Little Friend. Her novel The Goldfinch won the Pulitzer Prize in 2014. The daughter of Don and Taylor Tartt, she was born in Greenwood, Mississippi but raised 32 miles away in Grenada, Mississippi. At age five, she wrote her first poem, and she first saw publication in a Mississippi literary review at age 13. Enrolling in the University of Mississippi in 1981, she pledged to the sorority Kappa Kappa Gamma. Her writing caught the attention of Willie Morris while she was a freshman. Following a recommendation from Morris, Barry Hannah, then an Ole Miss Writer-in-Residence, admitted Tartt into his graduate short story course where, stated Hannah, she ranked higher than the graduate students. Following the suggestion of Morris and others, she transferred to Bennington College in 1982, where she was friends with fellow students Bret Easton Ellis, Jill Eisenstadt, and Jonathan Lethem. At Bennington she studied classics with Claude Fredericks. She divides her time between Virginia and New York City. (source)

The Synopsis:

It begins with a boy. Theo Decker, a thirteen-year-old New Yorker, miraculously survives an accident that kills his mother. Abandoned by his father, Theo is taken in by the family of a wealthy friend. Bewildered by his strange new home on Park Avenue, disturbed by schoolmates who don't know how to talk to him, and tormented above all by his unbearable longing for his mother, he clings to one thing that reminds him of her: a small, mysteriously captivating painting that ultimately draws Theo into the underworld of art. As an adult, Theo moves silkily between the drawing rooms of the rich and the dusty labyrinth of an antiques store where he works. He is alienated and in love-and at the center of a narrowing, ever more dangerous circle. The Goldfinch combines vivid characters, mesmerizing language, and suspense, while plumbing with a philosopher's calm the deepest mysteries of love, identity, and art. It is an old-fashioned story of loss and obsession, survival and self-invention, and the ruthless machinations of fate. (source)

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The Review & Wrap-Up:

Let me start this review by saying that I gave this book a 4 out of 5 star rating with Audible. I gave it this rating for one reason, and that one reason is why I both liked and disliked this book: the imagery.

Donna Tartt definitely did her research before writing this beautiful story. The amount of detail that she puts into this book was borderline Stephen King detail, but in a very good way. While King usually puts in too much detail, Tartt put in just enough for you to close your eyes and feel as if you're in the same room with Theo. Smelling the same smells, hearing the same sounds, having the same experiences. Her imagery made me want to visit New York during winter time; go to an antique store and look at the dovetail cut of a nineteenth century chest of drawers. It even gave me a wanting to go and try hard recreational drugs at one point! No worries, I did not, and don't actually plan to. But the details that she puts into these scenes makes you want to try these experiences for yourself to see if what she has written really happen in that way.

But this extreme detailed imagery is also what will lose a lot of readers. The extensive detail of the history and brush strokes of a single corner of a single painting will wear on a reader after a while, especially if they are not into art - which this book deals with a lot! While I am a lot like Theo's mother, someone who can go to a museum and look at the fine brush strokes of a single painting for 20 minutes - that is as long as Jack is not with me - most people in today's society are a lot more like Jack, and would much rather the fast-20-minute-breeze-through-the-museum-tour instead.

I enjoyed this book. There were times that I did get bored, or even a little lost because Theo would go off on some side description of some obscure thing, but over all I really enjoyed this book. However, I would not recommend it to everyone. If you enjoy art, imagery, history and a little crazyness and drama, then yes, you should pick up this book. If you enjoy something a little more straight forward (and don't enjoy any of the aforementioned items) then no. Move on, and don't let this goldfinch continue to haunt you like it did me or Theo.

From one bookaholic to another, I hope I’ve helped you find your next fix. —Dani

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Pair it with: Arrière-ban Appellation Lussac-St. Émilion Contrôlée, Red blend of Cabernet Franc, Malbec and Merlot.

Arrière-ban, or “call to arms” in French, is a befitting name for this Lussac-St.-Émilion wine, sourced from vineyards that were once the site of the Hundred Years' War. Sophisticated, rich and concentrated, the wine is built to last, prominently displaying black-fruit flavors of cherry and currant on the palate. Save this one for a special occasion and be sure to serve it with richly marbled meats to capture its full glory. Pairs with: beef, grilled red meats, marinated red meats, prime rib. (TR Wines)

Start a conversation: Have you ever had an object take such hold of you that it haunted you? What did you do to get it to let go?

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dirtylevi · 7 years

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The Mystery Lurker: Is It Eren?

Okay, so apparently me writing an entirely too long meta about why the lurker, long haired beardy man might very well be Eren based on a metric fuckton of speculation and the fan translation won out over waiting for the official translation. I will be putting this under a Read More due to spoilers and because it’s quite long. So first and foremost, before we even get started:

DISCLAIMER: This is my personal opinion. In no way am I stating what I say here is canon or completely accurate. if you disagree with my opinion, that’s perfectly fine! Everyone has a different point of view, but if you are going to send me messages trying to argue points of view with me or send me hate messages, do me a favor and please just don’t even bother.

Please try to read this with any other method outside of the mobile app because the app will butcher this post in the worst of ways. Also, I am far too tired to edit this ridiculously long ass post so sorry for any grammer or spelling errors. Now then, I’m am still on the the fence with this, but with each passing minute I lean closer and closer to truly believing this man is Eren, and for a ton of reasons too, but since I am always a slut for some imagery, let’s start this with some panels, shall we?

I won’t lie, when I first saw speculation that this mystery man may be a Paradis spy last month when chapter 93 dropped, I brushed it off immediately. Thinking that it was too easy and just kind of cliche. Also believing that maybe the armband being worn on the wrong side was a mistake. But, then we see this same man wearing his armband on the wrong arm AGAIN this month:

I have a lot to say about these panels so allow me to delve a bit deeper here:

1:) Falco just so happens to be the soldier that helps Myster Man, when at the beginning of the chapter, this kid seen silently thinking that he desires to free all Eldian’s. Not just the one’s on the mainland, but the one’s on the island too. He is also wondering if Reiner is thinking the same and if he can trust someone who was so dedicated to Marley and the iradication of those on Paradis island:

I have a lot to say about Reiner in this chapter too, but that’s for a different post when the official translation drops. For now, let’s focus on mystery man.

Falco has been shown to think quite differently from his counterpart, Gabi. He’s sensitive to human life, even that of enemy soldiers that he blatantly tries to save on the battlefield in the midsts of war. He doesn’t see inheriting one of the titans as an honor. He see’s it as a burden, and he obviously hasn’t been so easily brainwashed into thinking he’s superior than those who share the same curse as him solely because they walk on different soil.

If Mystery Man is indeed Eren, he just stumbled right into a potential ally.

2:) What Flaco says to Mystery Man. “You don’t have to fight anymore.”. That is one hell of a statement to make if it is Eren because if it is actually him, I imagine his entire reasoning for being there would be to scout for a way to fight and win. Foreshadowing, anybody???

3:) Mystery Man just so happens to be with mentally injured soldiers who have no family in the city. However, he seems quite calm compared to the rest walking in the line. Seems quite convienient.

4:) He also happens to be walking into a hospital in the very city where The Owl spoke of a Doctor ally for the walled Edlian’s.

5:) He’s seen wearing the armband on the wrong arm in two different chapters, not once showing his full face, and NO OTHER CHARACTER IS SEEN WEARING IT LIKE THAT. This character is obviously new to wearing military uniforms from Marley.

On top of these things, It is painfully obvious Isayama is going out of his way to hide this character’s face. I’m sorry, but I do not see why he would do that for some random character we have never seen before (such as the elusive 9th titan shifter). Isayama might as well be planting a neon sign over this guy stating that he’s someone extremely important that we already know and probably doesn’t belong in Marley considering his armband is on the wrong arm and we’ve seen him lurking covertly in Reiner’s vacinity for two chapters now.

Logically, I can only pin this man as Eren.

The last time we saw Eren, his hair had grown out considerably, and yet no other character’s hair had changed at that point in time. We see him pointing across the ocean with his long locks and asking if killing the enemy across the water would free them.

He stares across the sea with this question heavy question and his newly grown out hair. Again, forshadowing anyone?! Eren is also the only known character with that hair style, and the ability to regenerate his limbs. Now, I’ve seen a lot of people debate over this so allow me to add my two cents. Titan regeneration abilities can be controlled or postponed. We’ve seen it before.

Once with Reiner after his arm is bitten at Castle Utegard:

Once with Eren after his failed titan transformation in the well:

And once again with Annie as the female titan:

So this is easily probable for Eren to do after five years of using his titan ability and learning how to control everything he can and can’t accomplish while experiementing with Hanji. Plus, an injured soldier with no family in the city doesn’t draw much attention. It’s a perfect disguise. But this leaves us with two massive, burning questions so let’s start with question one.

Why would Paradis send Eren, one of their greatest assets, to an enemy nation?

I can think of a lot of reasons for this, but two ideas stick out the most.

INFORMATION:

Something I notice a lot of people overlooking here is the fact that Eren is a member of the Survey Corps. The Survey Corps main duty as a military force is to SURVEY. Whether that be survey new territory, enemy forces, or search for truth; all apply to this situation. Scouting is their primary objective. Especially now that all of the titans that posed a threat on Paradis have been exterminated.

Also remember that Hanji is now their Commander. This is the same individual who stated that the best way to defeat your enemy is to study them down to the finest detail until you find a weakness you can exploit for victory. I wouldn’t be surprised whatsoever if this was entirely Hanji’s idea and being followed through on her orders. Mainly because she isn’t one to simply sit around and consistently wait for the enemy to attack over and over again, but especially after fighting off a number of enemy battleships.

They have taken out every single one of those ships and I’m positive they would have managed to capture a few soldiers on board for questioning. An opporation like this would be nearly impossible if they hadn’t, and Hanji isn’t one to miss out on a opportunity to gain knowledge, and an upperhand. This would also explain how Eren would have gotten his hands on a Marlian uniform, knew where to find Reiner, knew to pose as an injured soldier, where to go, and so on.

But, why send Eren for information, right? Well, if that man is Eren, I doubt very, verrryyyyyyyy highly that he is there alone. Regardless though, Eren is the only one with access to memories that paint a vivid picture of Marley. He’s also one of two people with the ability to shift into a titan. If you were going to send one out of two of your greatest weapons to an enemy nation, probably best to leave the Colossal behind to deal with any enemy ships that may pop up, and send the one with the most information already at his disposal instead, yeah? Also best to send someone who can easily disguise themselves as an injured soldier in a believeable manner without permanent damage. Especially if part of their plan was to seek out a Restorationist doctor.

Also, for those of you wondering how he would find said allies:

All Eldian allies wear that scar, and Eren knows this thanks to Grisha’s memories.

COVERT OPPORATION:

I’m sure that after four years of taking out battleships without any shifters present aboard them, the Survey Corps knew that the clock was ticking on their end. Eventually, Reiner, Zeke, and Pony Titan would return along with whoever ate Ymir to attack again. Plus, since they are all aware of the 13 year life limit thanks to Eren having Grisha’s memories as well, after some basic math, they most likely quickly figured out that Reiner was running out of time.

Personally, I believe they quite possibly sent Eren to the mainland for the sake of both information, and also for a covert opporation to take the power of any titan shifter within grasp before it could be passed off. Obviously this would need to be done very delicately, but pulling an opporation like this is the best chance they would have even though it is very risky.

No one in Marley would ever expect someone from Paradis to infiltrate their land, let alone their ranks in military. As far as most of them are aware, those on Paradis are still boarded up behind walls thanks to the hoards of titans they created from other Eldians. Plus, they are known to be very behind on tech and have no clue about how to build or steer ships. No one would even expect them to be able to get there.

They had tried to kill Reiner a number of times and failed. Levi also failed to kill Zeke. However, if they could sneak in unexpectedly and catch them off gaurd at a point of weakness they discovered thanks to going undercover; game over. Taking the titan power’s away from Marley’s control would render them as a nation completely powerless which they would know by questioning enemy soldiers captured from the ships as I stated before. Not only that, but it would also grant Eren the ability to control the Coordinate.

Eren has Grisha’s memories and his notes. He knows his father birthed a son with royal blood that was enlisted as a Warrior, and Eren figured out in chapter 90 that in order to control the Coordinate, he needed blood of the first king. Not wanting to risk harm to Historia, he kept this a secret, but I am positive Eren figured out that Zeke is his half-brother. Especially after Zeke’s little spill of how he knew Grisha, and that he would save Eren from their father’s brainwashing. Eren even saw the resemblance as he spoke to him.

So not only does Zeke have the power to turn people to titans, to control pure titans, and have the ability to shift into the beast titan - which makes him a severe threat - but he also has royal blood which allows him a lot of his abilities. If Levi happened to be there with Eren, he could fufill his promise and Eren could gain another titan, and the full use of the Coordinate.

Not then. Question two:

How in the ever-loving fuck did Eren get there?

Truthfully, I have no idea, but I have a couple of guesses.

BY AIR:

This is an extreme long shot, but not impossible. I won’t rule it out entirely solely because it isn’t all that ridiculous to consider it an option.

BY SEA:

This is the most likely option, but I see a lot of skepticism here too, but let me explain. It is entirely possible that in four years, those on Paradis could learn how to make a functioning ship using rubble from these Destroyers. Hanji made the thunder spears in a freaking month, and it’s been shown that Eren can build large structures extremely quickly in titan form.

Though I doubt they would sail straight to Marley on one of their own ships. Too suspicious. The more likely option would be that they redesigned a new ship using scrap from the wrecks they caused, and pinpointed a good landing spot on the coast using info gathered from captured soldiers aboard the original Destroyers.

IN CONCLUSION

In all likelihood, the long haired beardy man is indeed Eren. I cannot, for the life of me, think of any other character that he could possibly be. If it was a character we hadn’t been introduced to yet, Isayama wouldn’t be so inclided to hide their face while still making it obvious they’re important thanks to thrusting him into two chapters with his armband on the wrong side.

If my theory is correct (which you never know!), I imagine Eren’s purpose for being in Marley would be to seek allies within Marley’s ranks, to gather information about the enemy and pinpoint a weakness to exploit, and to snatch any of the four titan powers they have in their military pocession if at all possible without discovery.

Essentially, it would be to try and shred Marley’s hold of power from the inside out. Exactly like RBA did when they infiltrated the walls. It also aids Paradis to do something like this in the midst of Marley’s combat with another nation. Infiltrating Marley in the middle of a war would make it a LOT easier to get in unnoticed. Also a strategy RBA pulled to cover as citizens in the chaos of Shiganshina falling.

The greatest weapon against an enemy is another enemy. Especially when you don’t expect your first enemy to make a move against you while using your own strategy.

#snk #snk spoilers #snk 94 #eren jaeger #snk meta #meta #long post #i am tired #this is probs all over the place and messy af but im done man my eyes hurt

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thisisasupergoodidea · 7 years

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alright, this took forever because i kept getting sidetracked, but here it is. the universe ive slowly been building up. it took so long to write. its so ridiculously lengthy. i almost want to apologize to you if you read it oh my god  the main story in this universe is project four, in which four people meet Death and tag along on its quest to convince a space wyrm not to eat the world. the death figure, kymoyef, evades capture for nearly 1000 years following the event that takes place in the four cities, observing people and steadily learning about the world as it stores energy for the big confrontation. as an energy being in the form of an object, kymoyef struggles with applying the concept of personhood to itself, but the four people who insert themselves into its business help it understand who it wants to be kymoyef’s companions love to ask questions and tell stories, one of which is an old folk tale about morality that they know as the four cities. in it, a godlike character asks kymoyef to visit four corrupt cities and raze them to the ground should their corruption be confirmed, so that the seeds of new civilization can be sown in their place. kymoyef goes to the first three places and, finding vanity, enmity, and apathy, destroys them without question. but upon reaching the fourth city and encountering suffering and hopelessness, kymoyef begins to question whether any of these people truly deserved erasure. it refuses to complete its task and instead goes into hiding to plot against the godlike character. kymoyef reveals that this tale is (generally) true  then i began fussing over details and ended up developing a plot within Sorrowstone, the city of suffering and hopelessness, where i show up close just how depressing it is through the perspective of a newcomer named rin. he joins the camp (which has no name historically since no one remembers it really existed) to escape his past and soon realizes that his stay would be permanent. the endless labor, the bleak and isolated environment, the meager food and supplies, the rampant depression of every other person in the camp - all of this combined prevented anyone from being of sound mind enough to leave. rin sees one death and promptly decides he has a duty to write down everything he observed, whether anyone would ever see it or not. that is the sorrowstone account  ok. back to the top. one of the four protagonists, caforleh, absolutely loves hearing stories and using them as inspiration for his own grand tales. i really wanted to feel justified in brainstorming for a completely separate project that had nothing to do with project four, so i clapped my hands together and declared that caforleh occasionally works on a piece of fiction that is my project inheritance, in which generation after generation of a particular lineage of siblings are all cursed to the same fate. in their lives, only and always two children will be born, quite often twins, and one will die by the actions of the other at some point. the most recent siblings are separated at a very young age after the murder of their mother, but years later one dies all too suddenly and the adults involved are sent into a panic trying to hide it from the other sibling. magic shit happens and basically you have the dead ones consciousness in the body of their sibling, not realizing theyre dead yet technically alive again, and the living ones consciousness is bound to a piece of paper in a wizard’s pocket. and everyone’s trying to run away from a cult faction that wants their leader back, but surprise, the living sibling was their leader. its a convoluted mess  in the background of this mess i found a nice little home for the magic pendant, a story that is literally just my 11th grade spanish project. a guy has a cool magic pendant. some magic dude steals it. the guy and his friend get a magic knife from a magic squirrel and kick magic dudes ass. so magical. i took that and pumped in extra details that made me happy, and now its officially enough of a story to be included  once more to the top. within the world of project four, one of the regions is plagued by a deep rift that scarred the land when scientist daiah’s experiment went horribly wrong. it swallowed several cities and poisoned the people and land around it. the survivors call that area daiah’s shame and send excommunicated criminals there to die as punishment. what they have yet to discover is that the rift is truthfully a tear upon their plane of existence, acting as an opening into an adjacent plane where pure energy resides. the land and people lost in the experiment fell into this other plane perfectly intact, but being that the two planes were never meant to interact in this way, were shortly infected with unknowable ailments. people slowly lost their sanity, their agency, anything that made them who they were. they either became husks or sought violence to distract themselves from their own pain. and the only freedom was to be killed, for time affected nothing in this plane. no one could grow old. the sky never moved. plants absorbed strange air and gnarled into bloated bastardizations  this is the reality that the protagonists of project dark souls ripoff fell into. wayrain had been traveling with a known criminal through daiah’s shame in the hopes of reaching a region beyond it, and his friend cadmor was secretly a member of law enforcement tasked with making sure the criminal died there. when this was revealed, the three fought and all of them stumbled into the rift to be spat out in the desolate climate of the lost region. i was heavily inspired by dark souls in creating all of this, so honestly just imagine the opening scene of whichever dark souls game and you’ve got the idea of it. wayrain and cadmor have to navigate this sickly area that theyve hardly even heard stories of while also dealing with dangerous people, feeling betrayed by one another, and creeping afflictions. much like rin and caforleh, wayrain takes to learning as much as he possibly can about the surroundings and compiling it all into journals. he travels ceaselessly and does his best to uncover every last mystery, from lost libraries to unmarked graves. cadmor battles his imitation morality as he eases into another role of leadership. the two will clash several times but ultimately reconcile before kymoyef shows up to assess the condition of the rift  and project fire girl is kinda out of place because it feels entirely standalone, but its actually the origin of most of this stuff, so im hoping i can find a way to squeeze it in somehow. its about a person who wakes up in a fire with no knowledge of how she got there and wanders around aimlessly dealing with the destructive repercussions of her mysterious fire powers, which she can barely control. i know. its sort of like frozen but with fire. but hey spoiler alert: she’s actually a wizard scientist (you can tell i really like my wizards and scientists) that, alongside her cousin, did awful experiments on people in the name of magic science, imbuing them with different forms of magic just to see what happens. and she gave herself fire powers because why the hell not. but the internal flame was so painful that the trauma of it elicited amnesia. she regains these memories in time by meeting the people plagued by the consequences of her actions. not knowing shes the one that did this to them, they work together with her and carry out a plan to expose the other wizard scientist. in the final confrontation, she admits that she regrets what shes done even if the academic community learned a lot from it, and allows herself to be imprisoned  yeah. like i said, project fire girl was the first narrative in this universe, which came from a dream where she was taken in by an old couple and their adopted daughter and awoke in a bed of bright petals, only to realize that she accidentally set the house on fire in her sleep, killing the whole family. the imagery was so vivid that it stuck with me. project four originated from one of my old minecraft worlds that i unfortunately deleted by mistake and then tried to rebuild. but i couldnt remember what the old build was called so i called it arenos, and that became the first region. once i decided that fire girl was gonna be set in some mountains and that those mountains bordered arenos, i was officially on my way to creating what is now this world. and then more detail happened and kymoyef happened and the concept of the four cities being parallels to the four regions in the world sounded neat but i got carried away and wanted to try to recreate the four cities in minecraft, and only did sorrowstone, so i started to think of what depressing shit went on in that place and wrote a little bit about it  the dark souls ripoff is, of course, a blatant ripoff of dark souls, but its also a combination of A) another neat dream i had that was just two people traveling on horseback through cold morning fog and being ambushed - one was killed and the other crawled to a nearby basement and hid for an eternity, until the landscape had entirely changed hundreds of years later - and B) a totally separate dream where two people were traveling on horseback through cold evening fog, trying to reach some uncertain destination after having to leave their entire lives behind because they were magic. i was like “i’ve just added two more regions to my world. what if this region has a big rift in it - oh, what if this person hid through the rift incident that sent them to an alternate plane - no wait, what if these other characters were traveling through the rift area and fell in?”  project inheritance was first called dark souls ripoff 2 because it deals with souls being portable and consumable and the two siblings have to deal with increasing insatiability for souls to keep themselves alive after having their consciousnesses ripped from their bodies. but this story was originally gonna be a text adventure game with like seven hundred endings (im exaggerating a little) testing your ability to forgive and manage your bloodlust. i know. its like a bootleg undertale. i cant have an original thought even if that thought happened two years before the popular thing happened  thats about it i guess. thats the beginners guide to my utterly incomplete creative endeavors. i have some other ideas that would be neat to pursue but they dont belong in this particular universe as of right now. i might find a way to make them fit. i might not

#i talk about life n stuff #i could talk about any of this FOREVER. or maybe an hour or two. each. i dont have that many ideas cemented yet tbh #the process of making word lasagna

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