#really hitting both ends of the style spectrum here

[xx-just-a-demon-xx]

in celebration of Jim Carrey being confirmed for the third sonic movie i thought id post these robotniks i did not too long ago

[isnt-it-pretty]

Hello, person who likes Cyno! I'm really sorry for randomly barging into your inbox like this, and you don't have to answer this if you'd rather not, but I'd like to ask for advice on Cyno's team!

I saw you mention that Cyno's best team is quickbloom, and I'm deciding between that or just regularly quicken/aggravate. I have Nahida who I'm definitely gonna use, but if I'm going quickbloom, the only hydros I have are Xingqiu and Barbara. There's also the matter of the flex slot. I was considering running Shinobu, because will Cyno be able to battery himself? I have Zhongli too, and Raiden and Yae and Fischl. Though I'd rather have some survivability. I'm gonna put PJWS on Cyno if that matters

Hi! I don't mind at all; I love talking about this! I didn't proofread, though, so rip any typos.

Everything I say here can be found on the KeqingMains Cyno Quick Guide and from Zy0x's Cyno videos (+ his second video), so you can reference those as well.

*One thing to note is that in my experience, KeqingMains calculated Cyno's ER requirements as too high. I'll get into that lower down.

This got way longer than I anticipated, so, short answer, TLDR: Cyno, Nahida, Xingqiu/Barbara, Zhongli.

The weapon is easy, so I'll mention that first. I have Cyno on PJWS as well; the only thing I'd say is that you may need an EM circlet over a crit since PJWS doesn't have the passive like Staff of Scarlet Sands does to give extra EM. That said, I'm not positive about it.

Cyno does a lot more damage with quickbloom, but it really comes down to a matter of personal preference in play style. I found him underwhelming in aggravate since my Alhaitham spread comp out damaged him in every circumstance, but I rebuilt him for quickbloom, and it's been great. He's been so much fun to play. Either way, make sure you have at least one dendro on your team holding 4pc Deepwood Memories.

Barbara and Xingqiu both work. Barbara is better for traditional quickbloom, while Xingqiu is closer to the hyperbloom end of the spectrum. Either would work fine. I use Xingqiu personally and picked artifacts with an hp% sub stat to give me some healing just in case I take a couple of hits. If you use Xingqiu and PJSW, then I absolutely recommend an EM circlet over a crit one. Hyperbloom scales entirely off level and EM, so you want to make sure you have EM sands and circlet, and an electro damage goblet, with crit rate sub stats and ER on your artifacts.

Flex Slot

Shinobu is a common pick for Cyno's flex because she heals and helps battery (whether you need the battery is up for debate). In aggravate, I'd 100% suggest running her alongside a different flex (run her with iron sting, EM sands, Dendro dmg gob, crit rate circlet. Any of those can be replaced with hp% for extra healing if needed. I run her on my Alhaitham spread team with an hp% circlet).

For quick/hyperbloom, it's deciding if the healing is necessary. Shinobu will steal some bloom cores, so I don't suggest running her in traditional quickbloom comps, but if you're using Barbara, you won't need the healing anyway. For closer to the hyperbloom end with Xingqiu, make sure you build her with EM/EM/EM artifacts so that it isn't a big deal if she steals some cores.

Don't run Raiden. She doesn't do much for Cyno, and honestly, she excels far better in other team comps. This is the KeqingMain's guide for Raiden if you want to build her for other teams, but she's wasted on Cyno.

You could run Yae with Cyno. People do it, but honestly, I wouldn't. Put her on a Raiden team, and they'll both excel better there.

Fischl is Cyno's best battery. She creates an insane amount of particles and is unlikely to steal bloom cores. The question is whether you really need that. Some people do! I run my Cyno as solo electro with 150ish ER on 4pc Thundering Fury and have zero problems generating enough particles to fuel his burst, so Fischl's usefulness entirely depends on if you find yourself needing a battery.

Zhongli, oh Zhongli. Zhongli is the best shielder in the game. You literally cannot go wrong with Zhongli on any team His shield also gives dmg shred, which everybody benefits from.

What I'm saying is that if you can use Zhongli, do so. Fav lance (try to get r5), 4pc Tenacity set, HP sand and HP gob with crit rate sub stats. Either HP circlet with CR sub stats or CR circlet with HP substats. The CR matters to proc the fav particles, which if you can funnel into Cyno can help fuel his burst in a pinch. If you don't have access to a fav lance, the 3* weapon Black Tassel is also solid because of the hp% sub stat (HP/HP/HP artifacts).

I could write a whole post about theory-crafting Baizhu for Cyno's flex (r5 prototype amber, 4pc Tenacity stacked HP + ER), but honestly, I'd just wait until he comes out and see what people better at math than me say about his optimal build and whether he's worth pulling for Cyno. (I am very, very bad at math).

4pc Thundering Fury or 4pc Gilded Dreams?

Okay, I know you didn't ask, but this is important to mention. To start, let's talk energy.

This was made by the CynoMains discord, and by personal experience, I can say that it's way more accurate than KQM's.

As you can see, TF dramatically lowers Cyno's ER requirements. This is because the 4pc passive means that whenever an elemental reaction is triggered, Cyno's E skill is cooldown is reduced by 1s (can only occur every 0.8s). More E skills during his burst = more damage and more energy. With 4pc TF you can comfortably run Cyno as solo electro with no fav users. 144% ER is stupidly easy to get.

Gilded Dreams means you need higher ER sub stats, which means you're losing out on potential atk%, crit value, and EM sub stats that will boost your damage. If you're running hyperbloom with Xingqiu or Yelan, that might be worth it since hyperbloom scales entirely off level and EM. If you're running quickbloom or aggravate, it isn't, since quicken is scaled off all those sub stats, not just EM.

Now lets talk teqctions themselves.

4pc TF lets you smash your E skill and try to time for when the eye is on the screen. That takes some practice, but you'll get there. In my experience, you can hit twice as many E skills. This means even if you run Xingqiu, the fastest hydro app in the game, you still won't run full hyperbloom on Cyno with 4pc TF. You'll still proc aggravate quite often. 4pc TF also gives you an additional benefit on the 4pc passive. Along with reducing E skill cooldown, hyperbloom dmg is increased by 40%, while aggravate is increased by 20%.

In my opinion, that's enough to sell me on 4pc TF, but you can also strongbox it to help farm it.

I'm sure there's several more valid reasons for Gilded Dreams, but tbh, I've been happy enough with Thundering Fury that I don't know them, so if you care, it might be worth looking into more on your own.

My build & rotation

Cyno: c0, lvl90, r1 PJWS. 4pc Thundering Fury, 155% ER

Nahida: c0, lvl90, r2 Sacrifical Fragments, 4pc Deepwood Memories, 144% ER

Xingqiu: c3, lvl30, r5 Sacrifical Sword, 4pc Emblem, 231% ER

Zhongli: c0, lvl90, r4 Favonius Lance, 4pc Tenacity, idk ER off the top if my head but I rarely use his burst anyway.

For rotation, Zhongli E -> Nahida E + Q -> Xingqiu Q + E (often E x2 for Sac proc) -> Cyno E + Q + E + E + E, etc.

Once Cyno's burst is filled, or if his shield drops, I swap out and start again.

I've easily taken this team to floor 12 in the Abyss, even when my other teams struggle to keep up. (Fuck you triple Kenki, my Cyno kicks your ass).

-

At the end of the day, Genshin is a game, and it's supposed to be fun. I like talking about builds because, to me, it's fun. I know several people who shrug, say fuck the meta and throw four selfish dps characters on the same team.

Build Cyno however you'll have the most fun with him. If that's meta, cool! If it's not, then that's cool too. Don't let anybody tell you that you're doing it wrong.

As always, my ask box and DMs are open for questions and thoughts ♡♡♡

[glyphwright]

Was looking through some RPG rulebooks recently, and had developed enough opinions on the topic of NPC stat blocks that I had to get them out somewhere. Check below the break for a rant.

I've come to a unilateral and flawless conclusion: if you have a tabletop RPG or a wargame with big squads of people/NPCs, if you can't put the unit's stat block on a Yu-Gi-Oh card with no art and have it be legible, I want no part in it.

Was looking through some systems for a tabletop campaign idea I had, and found one that I won't name but thought I'd really enjoy. And for the most part, I did! I loved so much of the player-facing systems and was gearing up to start really digging into this campaign when I hit a snag with the system.

See, the system is a 2d6-rolling skill-based system. Which is awesome, I want to get away from D&D type stuff and this was a really good path to go. There are 24 skills split up into 3 categories of 8. Really nice way to categorize things. But... All the enemies ALSO had numbers for all 24 skills. Plus the other stuff that's actually important for running mook NPCs in an RPG battle.

The enemy stat blocks felt so bloated, my eyes just kind of glazed over while reading them and all interest in the system dried up. And that kind of disappointed me!

Throwing my mind to wargames and skirmish games for a reference here, I'm reminded of both Battletech and Battletech Alpha Strike, two opposing ends of the unit card spectrum.

Battletech Classic has BIG record sheets, each mech is its own 8.5"x11" piece of printer paper. However, because the system is crunchy and simulationist, all these gubbins and tables are necessary for play, and each player only runs 3-5 of their own mechs, which really limits the overhead on what they need to have in front of them.

On the flip side, you get Alpha Strike. The Alpha Strike rules cut down heavily on the simulation and crunch in order to streamline the game, for an alternative ruleset that plays faster and can also more easily support large amounts of units. Everything fits on basically an index card, and if you cut out the art you can make the card even smaller if you made a custom layout.

Outside of Battletech, I think these unit cards for Warhammer 40k Kill Team are also very readable. This has a lot of empty space, as the unit itself is pretty simple, but it has all the necessary numbers on it without making my eyes glaze over because there's no chaff numbers.

I probably haven't been looking long enough at other systems, but I hope that combat heavy tactical tabletop RPGs start picking up some formatting styles from skirmish games. I feel it would do so much (for me at least) to make things easier and faster to run.

If anybody who took the time to read this knows about any combat-focused TTRPGs with really slick formatting on unit stat blocks, let me know, I wanna check them out.

[imdoingwhateverisnext]

Hair Day! (A modified essay)

Going to the hair salon is a treat I use once or twice per year. I love my hairdresser. She has been my only hairdresser for 20 years. She has been employed at several different salons, and I just follow her wherever she goes. She knows my quirks, weirdness, and she is a great conversationalist. Not to mention she does a great hair. She's honest and teaches me techniques and products to use, so I will know how to fix it myself when I am at home. I know I sound like I am possibly singing her praises too much. This girl was subpoenaed by my ex to testify during our divorce, and she showed up reluctantly and sat with me the entire time. She lost an entire day of work, but she still had my back. I am forever loyal for this reason in addition to her skills as a hairdresser.

Having said all of that, I have a couple of gripes. She knows what they are because I don't like to say something behind someones back if I am not willing to say it to his or her face. It is a policy of mine. My first complaint has nothing to do with her really, but the lighting in this place is extremely unflattering compared to some of the other places I have been to. I am not a fan of mirrors in general except for utilitarian purposes (fixing makeup or hair). I am not a fan of staring at myself in harsh lighting while she colors or cuts my hair. I either look down or have her turn the chair so I don't have to look. It is one of my quirks and she understands it.

The last time she colored, cut and styled my hair for me, it was perfect, and looked really nice, even in the bad lighting. I usually have to adjust my bangs, move my part over or something. It usually is just a little bit off from how I like it to fall around my face. This time I didn't have to make any changes to what she had done. I smiled and she could see how happy I was. My response is normally underwhelming, even though I always like the end result. This could be a personality thing or a spectrum thing, I am not sure. She grabbed the hand held mirror and said, "Here, you have to look at the back of your hair, it looks so pretty!"

I was initially skeptical, but it looked so good in the front. I took the mirror and turned around to see my hair in the other mirror. I glanced at the pretty colors and layers, then and my eyes immediately moved down to my ass. "Oh no!" I shook my head and tilted the mirror different angles so I could be sure of what I was actually seeing.

It was obvious to me at this moment that this day was not going to end well.

"What is it? You don't like the back?" Her big eyes showed the concern on her face. She is very transparent, a quality I like.

"No, the hair is nice. It is my ass! I thought it looked better than this. Oh my God. Why did you make me look at my ass? I could have gone all day believing my ass looked decent. I could have gone the rest of my life really. Now I have a problem. Thanks Sheila!" This is not great for my self esteem; which has taken many hits over the past few years.

"I didn't tell you to look at your ass."

"No but you should have known I would! Now I have to intensify my workouts and start fasting again, or just accept having a shitty ass. It's just too much!" I pouted a few minutes then took out my money. She laughed at me. I gave her the usual hug, paid her and thanked her. I probably won't see her for another 6 months.

When I left the salon, it was lightly misting outside. I popped into the salon supply store to get the product she had used on my hair, then I drove home. By the time I got there, I looked like a lightly rained on long-haired dachshund. My hair was somehow both frizzy AND flat! I don't know how it continues to defy hair physics, but it does. It looked really bad.

For the nostalgia of the "good old days" of high school essay writing, I shall summarize with the lamest possible closing paragraph, AKA- 'Saying what you have already said'. I have done this more often than I shall admit.

In conclusion, my hair dresser is great, the salon lighting sucks, the top of my ass looks weird, and I now have upper ass issues. The day started out good. There was great hair, bonding time with my friend, and it somehow quickly deteriorated into me standing in front of my mirror saying, "fuck this day. I look like a wet dog, and I have a terrible ass".

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

It could happen.

[db-reviews]

#133 - The Faust Tapes - Faust (1973)

As a follow up with their album of So Far, Faust decided to do a different type of experiment, which was instead of making a complex and weird krautrock album (which this album definitely is one, but I digress) they instead create an album that’d sell at the same price as a single. While I do not know how much a single would cost in 1973, it clearly was some sort of hit, at least in the UK, selling over 60,000 copies. Whether that number was due to the UK having a bunch of Faust fans, which I doubt, or the sales pitch of the album being the same price as a single was enough to get people to buy it, it became one of Faust’s best selling albums and solidified them in the Krautrock spectrum more than they ever were.

The reason for the small price was due to the band’s producer, Nettelback, signing the band to Virgin Records, and with a deal that the record company can acquire the group’s tapes they worked on when making So Far, in exchange for making an album at a very low price. Virgin agreed to this, which prompted the band to gain a lot more traction than they ever got before. The traction was so great that the album would land a 12 on the charts, but was redacted due to the price, which in today's world with albums being at pretty much any price, it’d probably stay on the charts.

The sales pitch and the title doesn’t lie however, because what you get here are just a bunch of tapes the band recorded, featuring both a mix of sound collage, Avant Garde, minimalism, and the whole shi-bang of music the band messed around with. What I dig about this record is that no song here sounds the same. You get a bunch of different musical stylings and jams that all create this expansive sound that the band played around with from time to time. I like the fact that many of the songs here create this uncomfortable atmosphere, more so than what their first and second albums provided. It allows them to stretch their arms and grasp the expansive genre of Krautrock in new and exciting ways that makes things fresh and new each listen. I like this a lot in music since it just allows for more eclecticism, and this album really does sell in its novelty.

I also really like how fun this album can get, with how random the songs are, you cannot predict what will come next, and how long they can last. Sometimes you might get something like Flashback Caruso, but then you might get something like Donnerwetter, and it doesn’t matter if you want something actually rocking, or ambient, or just an album filled with sound collages, this is an album filled with nothing but tapes, pure experiments the band just wanted to try out for fun, and that is what this album is at the end of the day, dumb fun. An album that is nothing but fun is something I can get behind, even if it has a weird Faust charm to it.

However, in the same retrospect, I really do not like a lot of these songs due to how little they have in substance. Since I am listening to the versions on Spotify, and not a vinyl version (which these days costs way more than what it used to sell for), I do not get the glory of simply calling both sides two separate songs, instead I have to listen to 26 songs, each with their more varied lengths, and whether or not they have any real amount of power they fill me. The longer songs, the ones that are not just a few seconds long, are the highlights for me. They feature a lot more than what some of the 20 second stuff gives, sadly though they do not appear as much as I’d hoped.

Songs come and go like lightning rounds in a pistol, and with it means that none of the shorter songs will last for me, aside from maybe Dr. Schwitters (Continued) having this very nice melody carrying the song. I think Faust works best when they aren’t making incredibly short songs that do not last, and instead focus more on their craftsmanship of more pronounced songs. That is the reason why I did not like Mamie Is Blue, Picnic On A Frozen River, and Me Lack Space on So Far due to just how short and unimpactful they made me feel in comparison with many other songs on that album. This is the same deal, and sadly due to there being way more of those ones here, it feels less like a true improvement and more of just the same from So Far with a lot more shorter stuff than the better and more improved stuff the band would create later on, which the more I think about it, really does make sense since these tapes were made during the So Far sessions.

Despite the fact that this may not be the band’s best record, I can say for certainty that this was an important record in the band’s career, and one that is important for me as well. Personally I probably would not be reviewing these Faust albums if it weren’t for my intrigue of this album. While I do not love it, I cannot deny its impact on me, and on a lot of folks in the 70s. Something interesting, but one that shouldn’t be overlooked.

3/5

[aristosakielon]

Please let me know what you think of his poetry after you're done! It's honestly so good and it shows his more sensitive and human side as well! (Some of them might not be available, so let me know if you need help, I have some saved!)

Okay I have many thoughts already. I have not read all of them yet!

(Firstly, I am half creeped out at how similar our styles of writing poetry are ajajaj.) Continuing, I just cry for and love the fact that these poems exist. In history what I most find fascinating are the tiny bits of humanity in people, the littlest fragments that are a part of someone or a community. In my opinion, it is difficult to visualise much of the past, especially so long ago. It can seem almost unreal despite how much you learn. Snippets of life simply being life are the things that can really connect us to history. I think these poems definitely show that! Instead of an emperor lost in myth, he is just a guy at the end of the day, like you mentioned above.

I am also always a sucker for analysis - (and boy do I have plenty material). His observations, whether played up for poetic purposes or genuine, I live for both the shock value and the mundane - the stuff that is normal at the time, fleetingly written or forgotten, but he includes it.

Some poems are plain disgusting though, not gonna look past that whole poem titled ‚R*pe!‘ etc. Then you have the opposite end of the spectrum, the ones I adore - in particular ‚In Praise of Tourism‘. Also when he talks about him and Poppea during the times of the Domus Aurea (construction) I start to vibrate with excitement. I visited there only a few months ago and it was one of my favourite places in the world, so having him actually talk about it just fuels my Roman history fixation tenfold.

It also leaves me with many thoughts. I wish I could read Latin (I did attempt to learn but it is so complicated I gave up >.<). I wonder if any lines rhymed, though I guess rhyming wasn‘t really a thing in poetry back then? Or if he wrote anything in Greek. I have also a belief that poetry cannot be 100% translated. Sure, it is one thing to translate a language, but poetry is much more than simply words - another reason why I would learn every language in the world just to read literature as intended. Nevertheless, I am grateful I can even read it still. Should never take for granted our access to knowledge. So thank you, so much, for sharing!!

Ps. Finding that whole ‚did he murder Agrippina‘ debate makes me laugh at the first line of ‚Advice to Young Poets‘: ‚Murder your mother‘ 😂 Subtlety may not be his strong suit.

As always, I find him a very interesting person, especially thinking about the context at the time, and this validates my fascination. I have so many thoughts (about the individual poems too as they are quite varied) but I best end my ramblings here before I hit some word count lol.

I apologise at the length of this good gods. Message me too any thoughts you may have, I look forward to hearing them! Will let you know if I come across any that are unavailable:)

[straykidsupdate]

Stray Kids Are Breaking Records, Breaking Eardrums and Breaking Limits (INTERVIEW)

A Stray Kids track a day keeps the stress away. Though one can argue the K-pop group's energetic brand of "noise music" could possibly heighten tension, their bass-bumping, get-the-crowd-jumping songs are encouraging, vital points to Stray Kids' calling: to be the voices of their generation.

As showcased on their fiery 2019 hip-pop hit "MIROH," or 2020's heavy-hitting "God's Menu," Stray Kids — often abbreviated as SKZ — are unrelenting in their journey of self-expression and their determination to push themselves, and their fans, to their full potential. A prime example? Their second studio album, NOEASY, released Aug. 23.

Source: Pop Crush

The 14-track project, the majority of which was produced by sub-unit 3RACHA (Bang Chan, Changbin and Han), exhibits Stray Kids' ability to bring the noise no matter the tempo. NOEASY starts off strong with five in-your-face tracks that blend EDM and hip-hop elements (lead single "Thunderous," "Cheese," supporting single "Domino," "The View" and "SSICK"), while the later part of the album experiments with different genres and styles, from jazz-pop to rock.

Just three years into their career — they formed in 2018 — members Bang Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, HAN, Felix, Seungmin and I.N. already carry dozens of award nominations and wins under their belt, and boast chart-topping hits in both physical and digital sales. Even before the release of their second album, the group already set a new record by becoming the first artist under JYP Entertainment to reach 1 million pre-orders.

We recently caught up with the members to talk about NOEASY, the adorable SKZOO version of "Thunderous" and why touring is their first and foremost priority.

Congratulations on your second album! A studio album takes lots of work, so how does it feel to have this out there in the world now?

Changbin: We really put our everything into preparing this album and we're really confident in it, so I’m really happy that STAY can finally listen to it!

Lee Know: We couldn’t wait to put this out because there are so many really, really good songs on it, so it feels great to finally release this album.

Hyunjin: Somehow a year has already passed, and we’re so thankful to our STAY who have waited for us. The entire album is good, so we hope STAY really enjoy it.

NOEASY has already achieved the title of being the best-selling album in JYP Entertainment in history. Any thoughts on that? What other records would you guys like to break?

Bang Chan: That title was achievable all thanks to STAY! If it weren't for STAY, we wouldn’t have been able to have even gotten this far. Stray Kids are known as “the kids that enjoy breaking things." We break objects, break eardrums and break limits, so breaking another record wouldn’t be so bad. Of course, we’ll need the help from STAY!

I.N: I hope we grow even more with the next album, so much so that people will describe us as artists who are constantly improving.

What were your first impressions of the title track?

HAN: When we listened to the final product, it made me really happy that the track sounded really fresh, the lyrics were very witty and full of spirit and it clearly embodied Stray Kids’ distinct color. I wanted to hurry and work on the performance and share the song with someone!

Felix: The song is really unique and I believe that we were the only team to make it impactful.

Seungmin: One day, upon arriving at home, 3RACHA immediately played the song for me. The moment I heard it, it felt electrifying, and I really wanted it to be a title track. That’s why I voiced a lot of my opinion, too.

3RACHA (Bang Chan, Changbin and Han), you guys have made a name for yourself and were heavily involved in this second album just like past releases. What was it like with this project?

Bang Chan: Just like any other project that we’ve worked on, we just had fun. We experimented with a lot of different styles and tried our best to widen our musical spectrum.

Changbin: We knew there would be a lot of expectations as this would be a full album, so we really put a lot of effort into the process.

HAN: The process was a lot of fun. We’d ask ourselves, “What should we attempt? What should we try next?” And we looked forward to what we’d come up with while working on this album.

How was it different this time?

Bang Chan: The “let’s just have fun” part hasn’t changed at all, but the biggest difference would be the genres of music and the ways we recorded the songs.

Changbin: Perhaps because our second full album is the first album we’re releasing after [television competition] Kingdom, there was a bit of pressure to meet people’s expectations. When pondering what everyone would be expecting of us, we thought they’d definitely be looking forward to something new in true Stray Kids’ fashion. I think that’s the part that we contemplated a lot.

HAN: I think, compared to before, we had a little more fun while working on this album. There was no time crunch, and we worked with the thought of making music that best fits who we are today, so I think the end result came out really well.

What would you say were the key highlights for the album?

Bang Chan: One thing that I hope people will notice is the improvement of all the members’ recording skills. We put a lot of effort into all the songs.

Changbin: The album includes unit songs in which all of our members took part during the creative process.

HAN: I hope people look forward to Stray Kids’ distinct musical color, our wit and how much we’ve matured.

When you guys came up with NOEASY as the title, how did you define it in your own terms?

Bang Chan: This might sound cheesy, but life itself is pretty “no easy." Everyone goes through obstacles, everyone has their own downs and lows, but I feel like it depends on how “noisy” you’re going to be to overcome those hardships.

HAN: NOEASY is trying to convey that things may be hard, but we’re going to break through that difficulty with our sound! I think the best way to explain it is that even if things are tough, as long as we have the sound of Stray Kids and the sound of STAY, we can overcome anything.

You spoiled your fans with so much pre-release content, which would you say were your favorites and why?

Lee Know: The SKZOO teaser was the most memorable. I would say the cuteness amidst the power was the key point.

Hyunjin: The trailer video was a little embarrassing to film, but after seeing it all come together, it looked so cool that I hope we get to do it again next time!

Seungmin: We worked on unit songs that were included on this album, and the Song Camp teaser videos that showed the creative process behind those unit songs were really good! I think our STAY really enjoyed them, so I hope we can do that type of content again.

About the SKZOO version of the “Thunderous” video: Whose idea was it?

Felix: As we prepared for our comeback, we wanted to impress and entertain our fans with something fun and unique, so we all came to one conclusion which was wearing our costumes for “Thunderous."

Your music has become incredibly encouraging and has touched many STAY around the world. What would you say is your ultimate message as Stray Kids?

Bang Chan: At one point in their lives, people will have a moment where they feel astray from the road that they’ve chosen, and I would like those people to know that they’re not the only ones that feel that way. So, whenever you need someone to keep you company, just know that Stray Kids are here to get you back on track.

You guys pretty much owned 2020 with hit after hit, including “God’s Menu” and “Back Door." How has it been working and releasing music in the midst of the pandemic?

Changbin: There was a lot more time being spent at home, but I didn’t want to waste that time, and instead used it to consistently work on new music. I hope people listen to our songs and gain strength during this challenging time.

Seungmin: To be honest, I was really bummed we couldn’t get to meet our STAY in person, but I think we promoted our album hoping that STAY could feel our love through videos, our music and their hearts even from afar. I’m grateful because I think our sincerity was relayed despite not being able to see each other in person. We spent our time working really hard even in the unseen!

When the pandemic is over and everything’s okay, what’s the first thing you want to do?

Bang Chan: World tour, first priority!

Lee Know: The very first thing I want to do is have a fan meeting with STAY.

Changbin: Definitely an in-person concert.

Hyunjin: I want to go on a world tour to hurry and meet our STAY all over the world and experience new cultures in different countries! I also want to perform for our STAY in-person at Korean music shows.

HAN: A concert! I want to hurry and have a concert so we can vibe with STAY and sing together in the same place. I miss this so much and can’t wait until we can do this again.

Felix: World tour!

Seungmin: I would say the first that comes to mind is a concert with STAY where we can finally greet them and have fun together!

I.N: I want to do a world tour.

Congratulations on your third anniversary! Do you guys have any wishes, individually or as a group?

Bang Chan: Individually, I just wish for everyone to be safe and happy. As a team, I wish that we can reach places that haven’t been reached before with the help from STAY.

Lee Know: I really want to be able to let STAY experience our performances visually and physically in real life as soon as possible.

Changbin: I want to make music and perform as Stray Kids for a long time.

Hyunjin: I’m sad that we can’t right now, but I would really like for this time of coronavirus to pass so we’re able to make many more memories with STAY. I really miss the fan meetings, concerts and world tours.

HAN: I want to mature more and continue growing in my music and just as a person. I would like to make even better music so that I can continue to touch STAY’s hearts and give them joy.

Felix: Individually, I hope to make a lot of memories and give a lot of hope and happiness to the STAY all around the world to the best of my ability. As a team, we really want to go on a world tour to meet our STAY as soon as possible.

Seungmin: I want to show our fans an even more improved version of ourselves. My wish is to show STAY that we’ll never go backwards!

I.N: I would like to continue improving and be described as an artist of consistent growth. I want to become an artist that’s a good influence on people.

What’s something you would like people to know about SKZ if they haven’t given them a chance yet?

Lee Know: We’ve got backbone. Once you fall for us, it’s hard to get out.

Hyunjin: I hope that after listening to our diverse music and watching our extravagant performances, people will notice us a little more.

Anything else you’d like to say? Speak now or forever hold your peace!

HAN: STAY, thank you for always giving us positive energy. We feel bad because it seems like we’re always just on the receiving end, but we’ll work hard to reciprocate what you’ve given to us! We’re always so thankful for you, and we miss you so much. We love you, and please continue to watch over us.

[valhallanrose]

The Red Plague

The art above was created by Nix Hydra, and can be found in the Minor Arcana Art Book (or where I got it - off the fandom wiki page, because who’s going to stop me)

Much of Zelda’s story in the non-apprentice timeline delves into the plague before, during, and in the aftermath of Vesuvia, and I wanted to compile my lore and headcanons for it in one place before I delve into her story fully. I will incorporate as much canon as possible, but given that that isn’t a large amount of info, a lot of this is based off research and personal worldbuilding. 

CWs for discussions of disease, death, body horror, I guess spoilers but I’m surprised if it is for anyone considering how the info is everywhere in game in all routes. This is also, again, personal headcanon and I don’t expect it to fall in line with everyone’s thoughts on the plague.

The Timeline

I’m going to go with a comprehensive timeline first, and this part is all based on canon information. I’ll try and provide as many sources as I can as well, but some of this is pulled from multiple books and I might forget exactly where something came from. 

As we learn in the Lucio tale, Dawn of the Grub, Lucio strikes up a deal with the wyrm of pestilence (Vlastomil) - his parents’ hearts in exchange for a disease that will allow Lucio to kill them both. The Lucio brought the disease back to the tribe, which weakened his father enough for Lucio to kill him. His mother Morga, however, fights off the disease, referring to it as a ‘summer cold’, and Lucio flees the tribe and joins a traveling mercenary band which allows the plague to spread. 

I don’t have a particular reason why Morga would have survived the plague. Her sprites in the game never show any sign of the plague that are generally acknowledged - no red sclera, no veins, no signs of weakness, so on and so forth. The best theory I can posit is that Morga either genuinely had a summer cold, or that the plague only took hold in Lutz rather than them both. Either way, unsatisfying, but we’re going to call Morga the exception and not the rule. 

Because Lucio did not fulfill his end of the bargain with Vlastomil, the plague continued to spread, following Lucio as he traveled the continent. This is also the point where the beetles appear - more on them later. 

The implication in the game is that the disease reached other countries and areas, but the next canon mention of the Red Plague’s spread occurs in Portia’s route, book X - Wheel of Fortune. A map is discussed where dates, places, and sightings of the plague are noted by Julian in his study of the plague - the Painted Fields, Blue Mountain Ridge, and Annyala Gate are all names that arise. 

Nasmira recognizes the name of Annyala Gate and points out that Nazali was at that battle, in which a band of mercenaries was sighted - and their leader needed an arm amputated, which is confirmed to be Lucio. Nadia states that Lucio came to Vesuvia not long after that battle, and the next time the Plague was seen was in Vesuvia. 

It is never seen again outside Vesuvia, and this brings us to the three years before the game, where Lucio’s ‘death’ heralds the end of the plague, and it is never seen actively again in the Arcana world. 

The headcanons I have are to help establish a solid timeline. Dawn of the Grub tells us the deal is made on Lucio’s 18th birthday, and I personally believe that Lucio’s death occurred on his 40th birthday, giving us about 22 years of time for us to work with for the spread of the plague. 

Some more headcanons mixed with canon:

Lucio is newly titled Count in the tale Travel at Night. Based on personal age headcanons, this tale probably occurs at minimum 17 to 18 years pre-canon, putting Asra at (at most) 10/11, Muriel at 14/15, and Lucio at a startling 22/23. It could occur later, as art style can influence perspective on age, but Muriel and Asra really don’t feel like they could be much older than that. 

During his mercenary days (sometime between the ages of 18 and 22/23) Lucio was contracted by the former Count of Vesuvia, Count Spada. This battle occurs at Annyala, mentioned above, and is the battle where Lucio 

At a certain point, Lucio was contracted by the Count of Vesuvia at the time, Count Spada, for a battle where he "made a name for himself." Story implications indicate that this was the battle during which he lost his left arm. It was amputated by Julian to prevent his death from blood loss. After he won the battle for Count Spada, he became friends with the Count and privy to secrets about Vesuvia and the Palace. Spada would eventually name Lucio his heir, and upon his death, Lucio earned rulership of Vesuvia. 

The plague eventually appears and ravages Vesuvia’s population

Plague patients are sent to the Lazaret away from the city and cremated, then scattered on the beach. 

Lucio contracts the plague and defies the average lifespan of those who contracted it by lasting a few months rather than 3-10 days.

Lucio dies on his birthday, not of the plague but as a result of the ritual he was attempting to gain a new body.

I tried to map most of that out here, and wow, what a sad little diagram. Nix Hydra, y’all are cowards for not going hard on this. I, however, am not, and I am about to go more apeshit than I already have. 

The Spread

Cracking my knuckles on the history degree, baby, I’m borrowing some real life inspiration from across multiple time periods to tie all this together. 

I personally think the whole “Oh, the plague arrives wherever Lucio goes and disappears when he leaves” thing is a copout, and we’re drop kicking that out a window. 

I do believe, as canon states, that the plague follows Lucio. It spreads obviously to regions he visits, but I don’t think it just disappears when he leaves. I really, really want to believe someone would have been smart enough to see the connection if the plague suddenly appeared and was later yoinked out of existence as soon as Lucio left town every single time it cropped up somewhere way sooner than it was noticed in canon. 

I don’t think the plague was as isolated as the game implies, and when it was in Vesuvia, it was probably also elsewhere. The epicenter was Lucio, of course, so Vesuvia faced the worst of it, but I think there would have been pockets with much smaller numbers in other parts of the world. 

Earlier I mentioned a few locations cited in Portia’s route as to where the plague had been before Vesuvia - the Painted Fields, Blue Mountain Ridge, and Annyala Gate. I think once these areas were hit with the plague, it would have continued to spread even after Lucio left. Across multiple routes, it’s made clear that the only ‘cure’ to the plague is Lucio’s death, which is why Julian had intended to kill Lucio after making his deal with the Hanged Man. The lack of Lucio’s presence would have kept the plague from continuing to escalate, but in these regions, it probably would have spread when the region’s people attempted to relocate, or ceased when the population died out. 

Annyala Gate, or the Great Gate, is a location I can dive a little deeper into. It’s the last location the plague was sighted before Vesuvia, and because it ties into my OC Zelda’s storyline, I have many a thought. 

Lucio is in Annyala sometime between year 1 and year 4/5, though I believe it’s on the later end of that spectrum, so let’s say year 4 to clearly predate his title as heir to Vesuvia. For reference, here is a map of the Great Gate as provided by the art book: 

Jeebus. Terrible photo quality. Ah, well, on we go. 

The Great Gate is situated between the Sea of Persephia (left) and the Salty Sea (right), and as the map currently stands, is the only point on land that gives access to the southern part of the world map. In this area in particular, I feel like a number of factors would have kept the plague alive long after Lucio left. 

Narrowest point on the world map for transport of goods between ports and seas, which would be a more efficient route than traveling around the continent to reach the same point

As previously stated, this is the only known access point to the south, and travelers heading through this area could possibly be carriers of the plague or catch the plague from the area 

The only way for the plague to stop would be with the death of Lucio, so once it was inflicted upon this area, it continued to spread and infect the population in adjoining areas 

The game repeatedly has emphasized the proximity of the Red Beetles (known harbingers of the plague) to water, such as the Nopali village in Asra’s route and the red stains attributed to them in Julian’s route, and we receive further confirmation in Portia’s route that the water supplies are contaminated during the period of the disease

Fun bit of trivia from Nadia’s route - in the Strength book, Nadia mentions that she remembers the beetles, and that once they had been used as part of a pigment used to dye fabric crimson, which was all the rage in Vesuvia. Should this trend have continued, people wearing fabrics dyed with this beetle pigment most likely would become infected, and thus, the cycle continued. 

I will also point out here that pigments have been used in makeup across history, and I’m sure applying some beetle-laden makeup would have really fucked some people up. Eyeshadows, blushes, lipsticks...contact with any of these areas, particularly the eyes and mouth, indicate a possibility of infection. 

This does, however, leave a fifteen year (ish) period where the plague would have been active in this region until Lucio’s death. Historically, diseases can last such broad swathes of time. For the sake of displaying precedent, I will point out some examples here:

The Black Death, lasting 1346-1353

The third cholera pandemic, lasting 1846-1860

The third plague pandemic, a major bubonic plague like the Black Death, lasting 1855-1960

The HIV/AIDS pandemic, which has been ongoing since 1981 in the US

However, some of the most devastating plagues have lasted only a few years, which I will touch on later when I discuss Vesuvia’s case of the plague. All of the diseases listed above are additionally categorized with death tolls over a million people.

(On a side note, if you would like to contribute to programs searching for a cure for HIV/AIDS, I will suggest donating to organizations like amfAR, the Black AIDS Institute, or the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation, all of which are linked accordingly and deserve your support if you are capable of making a  contribution)

Remaining question: if the last place the plague was seen was in Annyala, more than fifteen years before it was seen in Vesuvia, what the fuck happened during that time beforehand?

Vesuvia - Before the Plague

Here’s the thing. The timeline given by the devs is a fucking mess. So, what I’m going to propose here is almost entirely theory, and I ask that you keep that in mind. 

Lucio ascends to the title of Count by the time he’s about 22 or 23. Spada dies, presumably, and there’s no noticeable mention of his death via plague or the establishment of the court. 

For some fascinating lore on how the government in Vesuvia works, I’m going to point you to this post by @sunrisenfool​, who has one of the biggest brains and is gracious enough to allow me to reference their work a little for this one. 

I don’t think the court as we know it existed when Lucio became Count. I agree with sunrisenfool here that Valdemar has been the Palace’s cockroach for a while - which was actually also confirmed in the Star book of Portia’s route, in which we see Count Prospero (founder of Vesuvia) summon Valdemar and ask for their aid in creating a city that will never die. The remaining courtiers would be gradually established as time continued on, all demons who struck bargains with the Devil in one form or another placed into positions of power alongside Lucio. We also cannot forget Valerius, who made his own deal with the Devil, and played his own role in this scenario.

We know that Lucio was also a pawn, later on, in the Devil’s agenda to bridge the gap between the main world and the Arcane realms. The ritual discussed in Portia’s Star book is described as a vessel to do just that - 

“...every 777 years, the physical and magical world will collide...the laws of magic will no longer be immutable, and the world will bend to our will...So long as the Countship and canals remain whole, so shall the power to reshape the world. You need only await the conjunction. Perform the ritual and lead the city to glory heretofore unknown. I, Count Prospero, first of my line, declare the founding of Vesuvia. The city eternal. My legacy.” - Count Prospero

It’s confirmed after this scene that the ritual, using the canals as a conduit, opened a ‘door’ so to speak to the Arcane realms. It’s also said there is a three year window to perform this ritual, and that at the time of game canon, we are at the end of that three year window. 

So. Borderline conspiracy time. 

Circling back to the lovely sunrisenfool’s work, I’m going to pull a particular excerpt here:

...the Consul of Vesuvia is the second most important/powerful political figure in Vesuvia, directly after the Count/ess. Aside of the political and civic duties I have already explained, the Consul acts as a “protector” of Vesuvia, albeit not in a paternalistic politically-conservative way (which is how paternalistic policies would be understood in our world). Instead, the Consul is meant to rule the City if the Count is absent or incapacitated, therefore being the subsidiary depositary of the secret of the foundation of Vesuvia, and the importance of it’s Canals.

Lucio makes it pretty clear he doesn’t know much of anything about the ritual during Portia’s Star book, but he was told about it by Spada before his death as it was a secret kept close to the court. That gave him something of leverage, even if he wasn’t aware of it, 

My thought as to why the plague did not spread in Vesuvia sooner is that Lucio had knowledge of this ritual, however minimal, and the Devil needed him alive to eventually use the ritual for himself. So, as Vlastomil (the wyrm of pestilence who granted this curse) was established in Vesuvia as Praetor, the plague was kept at bay for the time being while the city came under the full control of the Devil’s demons. 

I cannot imagine the only person who knows about the ritual is the Count, because that feels like a woefully flawed plan, so I do believe the Consul would have also been privy to such a secret in case the Count was in a position they could not share it due to absence or incapacitation. Basically, a rehash of sunrisenfool’s point, but I digress. 

As the window drew nearer for the completion of the ritual and it became clearer that Lucio knew next to nothing about the ritual and how it worked, the Devil decided to take a different approach. The plague was unleashed once again by Vlastomil, with the goal that Lucio become infected and eventually die, and that Valerius take over the Countship. Lucio no longer was useful to the Devil, and should he be removed from power, someone like Valerius - who knew the purpose of the ritual, who was under the Devil’s bargain by this point - would be an ideal candidate to finish the task at hand. Leverage, it works wonders. 

I don’t think the ritual performed to gain a new body could have been mere chance. I think Lucio knew more than he let on about the canals and the magic in Vesuvia from Spada. Yes, I know the first three were written before Portia, but come on, the timing is insane. He’s no magician, and performing something that complex and magically charged right at the beginning of the three year window when the ritual is supposed to be performed feels far from coincidental. Fight me. 

But, on to what happens in Vesuvia once the plague is free to spread again.

Vesuvia - During the Plague

The first sighting of the plague is in year 20, and I personally believe the plague lasted about two years or 24 months. The period is divided into three ‘waves’ - the first six months, the year leading up to Lucio’s death, and the six months following Lucio’s death. 

The First Wave

The first wave begins when the first known case of the Red Plague is confirmed, and in this period, the spread is rather slow.  

Here is the introduction of the Lazaret, which I do believe is a building that existed before the plague - this is personal thoughts, but the odds of this being the first major disease Vesuvia experienced feel pretty slim, and I do think this was a previously established quarantine that was renovated/expanded for the Red Plague outbreak. In an effort to get ahead of the disease, the space was designated a quarantine, largely staffed by volunteers when the palace seemed to not acknowledge the growing situation. It would slowly begin to increase until the plague boomed at the six month mark, heralding the beginning of the second wave. 

The Second Wave

This is the ‘bad period’ of the plague. I say that loosely, because it’s all bad, but I digress. 

I headcanon that the apprentice dies in the beginning of the second wave, when spread of the red plague rapidly begins to increase and the call goes out for researchers to search for a cure. We know how that story goes, so moving on to the details of this wave. 

There were two groups at this point in the plague - those assigned to research, working out of Valdemar’s dungeon/lab/carnival of horrors studying the plague, and those assigned to the Lazaret, caring for the sick and dying and maintaining the facility. 

I’m going to focus more on the Lazaret for this, as the research aspect is pretty well covered throughout Julian’s route and conversations with him in other routes, and this post is already getting long. 

The Lazaret was home to the dying, where they would be cared for in their final days and eventually cremated. My thought is that the remains of the patients were carefully catalogued in the beginning, returned to families willing to claim them, and those left unclaimed were scattered on the beach at the Lazaret. Later on, as more and more people died, less remains were claimed, leading to the black beaches that still mark the shores of the Lazaret in canon. Often the staff here were a mix of healers, doctors, apothecaries, anyone willing to try anything to ease the pain of such a disease. 

The staff at the Lazaret began wearing layered masks - the plague mask with its herb-stuffed beak, another facial covering beneath for an added layer of protection, and a head covering that sealed the gaps between the mask and the face. They were also required to wear gloves, tight-fitted sleeves tucked inside, and their pants tucked into their boots to reduce the risk of infection through contact. Their days would start in locker rooms on one end of the facility, removed from the patients, and suit up for the day while leaving belongings in the lockers. The end of the shift consisted of showers and disposal of garments to be sterilized, they’d return home in the clothes they came in, and by the time they returned a new uniform would be waiting for them. 

Lucio caught the plague during this period, most likely halfway through. He lasted several months, but the exact length is unknown, aside from he ‘lasted longer than most victims of the plague’ who died between 3-10 days.

I don’t think the averages are entirely accurate. There were most likely some who were asymptomatic until the plague was in very late stages, or those who presented symptoms very early on and survived for long stretches of time. All would die bearing the red sclera, veins, and other symptoms depicted above. Basically, this disease is claimed to be unpredictable, and I think that would also stretch to the duration at which each patient had it. Those who were physically frail likely would have died sooner than those who had been in oprtimal health before the plague, making the times vary rather drastically. I’d suggest perhaps a month at the longest, a few days at the shortest. 

Policy wise - during this period, the ports would have closed, and Vesuvia would have shut down. Nobody in, nobody out, not without rigorous inspection and quarantine before exiting to the city to avoid further spread. Often the only people allowed into the city were doctors from other regions affected by the plague called to help research, but during this year, I would estimate Vesuvia lost easily 30% of its population to the Red Plague. 

The Third Wave

This wave is the period that occurs after Lucio’s death at the Masquerade, three years pregame. I’ll touch a tiny bit more more on this in the next section, but this is where we see the gradual end of the spread of the plague, and the last cases shown in Vesuvia. It’s the end of the plague period, and I give this about six months for the official ‘all clear’ to have been given by those tracking case counts. 

The Lazaret is eventually decommissioned and now sits abandoned, a shadow on the horizon to remind those who survived what had been lost. The city mourned, the gates slowly opened, and gradually, we reach the point of comparative normalcy we see in the game set three years later. 

Vesuvia - The Aftermath

Lucio’s death would, ultimately, mean the end of the plague. Rather than immediately disappearing and all those suffering from it be cured, however, I would be inclined to say that the spread came to a halt. 

The last wave of the plague, in the six months after Lucio’s death, would have been a decrease in new cases until there were no new ones being reported, and the last of the patients who had been infected finally passed. 

The final duties of the doctors at the Lazaret, after all remains are cremated, would have been the incineration of all materials that could not be sterilized. Linens, spare uniforms, unclaimed personal affects, so on and so forth until the time came to return home. I do not remember the exact location, but I am fairly confident of a mention of the MC remembering barrels burning doctor’s uniforms and masks in the days after the end of the plague. It was, for a lack of better words, a purge - an attempt to erase the last physical memories of what the city had endured. 

Events like this are traumatic for all involved. They are painful wounds, and for the rate of death I imagine occurred in Vesuvia, the odds that someone lost no one are slim. There was likely a long period of mourning, and as noted in the present of the game, rarely is the plague spoken of outside of the context of the investigation in the primary routes. 

Many of those medical staff members who survived were those assigned to research at the Palace. The proximity of the staff to the ill at the Lazaret quarantine likely would have made the rate of infection far higher for the caretakers, meaning that often the staff would end up caring for colleagues in their final days. 

Even three years removed, the time of the plague is a raw wound for those in Vesuvia - but I do think the period is fascinating and I love exploring the different facets of it in my own world building. And, well, shameless self promo, but I am eager to write it myself when I get into Zelda’s backstory.

If you made it this far, thank you. Go drink some water or something, idk, wellbeing checkpoint bc what a long ass post

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

Analyzing Marinette’s hairstyles

So, I’ve actually seen a bunch of different posts and takes of what Marinette’s hairstyles represent and symbolize especially in regard to the episode “Heart Hunter”, but I wanted to go through all the different styles of hair instead of solely focusing on the pigtails/hair down of that particular episode.

With that being said, in no particular order, here we go:

The Bun

This hairstyle is almost exclusively seen in the episode “Animaestro”. However if you’re paying close attention, you will see Marinette wearing this hairstyle, in the old class picture, featured in “Reflekta”. I find the fact that the show made this connection between these two (scenes? examples?) incredibly interesting and very telling. Putting the class picture aside for a moment, one must analyze Marinette’s behavior in the episode “Animaestro”. To be sure, it isn’t great. For the most part, Marinette acts foolishly and immaturely and her actions in this episode, indirectly lead to the akumatization. Marinette, in her jealous state, goes so far as to join up with Chloe (a person she despises), and attempt childish pranks on Kagami. In short, I think that the bun hairstyle symbolizes a sort of immaturity for Marinette. The fact that she wore this hairstyle when she was younger only goes to prove my point. Marinette is not a perfect character, but her actions in “Animaestro” are arguably some of her worst, and naturally when she has hit a low in her maturity level, she reverts back to a hairstyle of her youth.

The Braid

The braid can be easily shoved aside as not holding any symbolism, as just a way the design team chose to incorporate the tail in her costume. However, there were a number of ways the tail could have been incorporated into the Ladynoir costume, and as such the braid must be analyzed. Now, a braid can be considered an almost restricting thing, it carefully tucks back locks of hair and traps them better than an ordinary ponytail can. However, the Ladynoir braid almost has a ‘fun’ twist to it (pun not intended but appreciated). It is long (like really long), and we even see her flick it playfully over her shoulder. I think that the braid is supposed to represent that dualism between responsibility and fun that the job of superhero can have. I have heard a lot of people criticize “Reflekdoll” for its lack of parallels. In other words, Chat Noir learns something and better appreciates Ladybug, but the reverse isn’t true, and I would say that in many ways this is true, Ladybug is not privy to the lesson that Chat Noir is. However, I would argue that she did learn something. Ladybug learned that it’s okay for her to have fun and to joke around. Towards the beginning of the episode we see Ladybug chastising Chat Noir for his joking around, however by the end we see Ladybug embrace this approach and even make some jokes herself. The braid shows Marinette acceptance of balance, of the combination of enjoyment and responsibility within her life.

The Space Buns

This design as well can be attributed to the design team finding a way to show mouse ears, but I’m still going to try to analyze this. I have two different ways to possibly explain this hairstyle. The first being to draw parallels to the bun hairstyle as this is essentially the same thing but two instead of one. The correspondence between the two hairstyles could be seen through Marinette’s feigned naivety in front of Chat Noir. She “accidentally” reveals herself as Marinette and pretends to be less informed than she really is. The other way to translate this hairstyle is as a security blanket so to speak. I haven’t gotten into the metaphorical interpretation of Marinette’s pigtails yet, but I will briefly explain a part of it now (and go into depth a little later). The pigtails serve as a sense of security for Marinette, as a source of status quo. The space buns are that, but elevated. In the episode this hairstyle is featured, “Kwamibuster” (I don’t think I mentioned this before), Marinette is desperate to keep her identity a secret from Chat Noir and develops a convoluted plan (including Multi-mouse) to accomplish this. She wants the security of her identity and wants to use her comfort style at this moment. However, Marinette is trying to distance herself from Ladybug and as such she uses a slight variation of her pigtails in her alternate hero form.

The Ponytail

I’m gonna be honest and say that I can’t fully analyze this hairstyle as we have not yet seen the episode where this hairstyle makes its second appearance. So I’m just focusing here on the ponytail from “Optigami”. I might make another analysis on the ponytail after “Sentibubbler” comes out but it might make more sense to wait until after the whole season comes out, in case there are new examples of ponytails (or other hairstyles for that matter). I don’t want to say anything about Pegabug’s ponytail, because as I’m sure you know, Miraculous trailers can be very misleading. Anyways, after that ramble, I now focus on Ladybee’s ponytail. To be frank “Optigami” was a bit of a doozy. I watched that episode with a sense of dread that did not lighten by the end of the episode. This isn’t a bad thing, but it was intense for a typical episode of Miraculous, a show where my usual reaction is a mix of “oh this is cute” and cringe (to be fair I cringe easily). But what I like so much about season 4 is that we get more than that (I won’t go into this now because I’m straying from the topic too much). Ladybee comes at a time of great stress for Marinette, she gets stuck in an elevator with someone and is thus unable to transform (let alone the fact that that “someone” is Adrien), she is without the help of Chat Noir and most of the other heroes, and (unbeknownst to her for a majority of the episode) her friend has been replaced with a sentimonster. Yet, despite all of this, Marinette remains cool, calm, and collected. She, unlike Alya, does not fall apart and despair when Senti-Nino is revealed, she knows she has to get the job done. A ponytail gives an image of “getting the job done” of focus. Although the situation is dire and dangerous, Marinette displays her competence in crisis and the ponytail magnifies that trait. I have a feeling that the same will be true for Pegabug, but only time (and the episode coming out) will tell.

Hair Down

In the two episodes that we have seen Marinette wearing her hair down, they were both in connection with Adrien and her relationship with her. I want to separate the two examples because though they both wind up achieving similar goals in regard to their symbolism, they do it in different ways. Focusing first on “Chat Blanc” Marinette wears her hair down in part to distinguish to the audience the difference between the two timelines. Though the surface level explanation of her hair would be sufficient explanation, this choice of hairstyle also has a deeper interpretation. This being as a metaphor for Marinette’s vulnerability. She is allowing her feelings to be known to Adrien, she is allowing herself to be open and honest about her emotions and with that freedom she lets her hair free as well. It is also significant that she is free from her secret identity (albeit unknowingly) and as she allows Adrien to see the full spectrum of her personality, she frees her hair from its restraint. In “Heart Hunter” too, this hairstyle signifies vulnerability and freedom. In this episode we see Marinette having fun with Adrien and Kagami, without the worry of how she is being perceived by Adrien, without the stress about her feelings for him. It is of great significance that when she lets her guard down, when she “lets her hair down” (both literally and metaphorically), Adrien comments on her beauty. We already know, as viewers, that Adrien has fallen in love with Marinette’s personality as Ladybug. But as Marinette, Adrien has not been privy to her full personality. He has only been given glimpses, as in this episode, to the full extent of her persona. Marinette is seen later on in the episode to revert back to her old hairstyle once she is no longer comfortable, when she feels inadequate compared to Kagami. She puts back on her guise when she feels she needs the security. Which leads us to that source of security.

Pigtails

I feel a bit bad as I have simplified this hairstyle in earlier paragraphs to a symbol for security. While this definition is a correct one, this hairstyle has more than one explanation. As Marinette’s primary hairstyle, in both her every day and hero outfits, we see this hairstyle A LOT. Because of this, there is an array of interpretation as to what this hairstyle could mean. Starting with the aforementioned, this hairstyle works as a form of security for Marinette. The style required her to hold her hair back, to keep it in check, away from possible disasters and viewers (wind can tangle hair very easily). The pigtails are the antithesis of letting her hair down, a common symbol for freedom and relaxation. The pigtails therefore show that she is on her guard and is protecting herself. The pigtails also represent her quality of being a do-er. She likes to do things, she is an active person, she doesn’t stand aside or wait for things to happen, she works to make them happen. As a do-er she needs focus, she needs a restraint for her hair that could get in her line of sight, and the pigtails do that well. As Ladybug, the same is true. She is focused and determined to accomplish her goals, to succeed in her battles and she needs to tie her hair back to best accomplish this. There is importance in the fact that she chooses to focus herself with pigtails rather than the equally practical ponytail. This can be attributed to the child-like quality that pigtails have. Marinette, simply put, is still a child. Though as a whole she is particularly mature for her age, at times she can show a bit of immaturity. It is interesting to note that as the seasons progress, the more we see her with other hairstyles. As she matures she wears the pigtails less. The pigtails are also a girly hairstyle and show how Marinette is a girly-girl in a plain and easy way. Additionally, the pigtails give her the approachable, girl-next-door look. In simply looking at Marinette one gets the image of her sweetness and good nature. In visual media, it is important to make a connection between personality and visage. In cartoons especially, a character’s design should fit with how they interact with their world, and the pigtails are an immediate signifier as to Marinette’s character. This about sums up my analysis of her pigtails. I know that there are more ways to interpret them, and feel free to comment if you think of any other interpretations!

[twh-news]

How Loki Shapeshifted From Nordic Folklore to a Marvel Icon

by Sara Durn

There are more than 800 years between the stories of Viking god Loki first being written down and his arrival (in the superb Tom Hiddleston) in the Marvel cinematic universe in 2011’s Thor. The new Disney+ series Loki, set to be released on June 9, is primed to explore more antics of Thor’s trickster brother as he attempts to fix the timeline he helped break in Avengers: Endgame. Among his many talents, Loki has cheated death a few times in the MCU, but that amounts to child’s play for this god.

In Norse mythology, Loki causes just as much confusion as his Marvel iteration. Though there aren’t any stories of him outwitting death, there are plenty of myths where he shapeshifts, swaps genders, or tricks gods into killing other gods. In the Marvel universe, he’s quite prone to allegiance swapping. Let’s dig into this troublemaker’s journey.

What is Loki’s origin?

The legends surrounding the Norse god are first documented in writing around the 13th century, primarily in Iceland. There are two versions of these legends that enter the historical record around the same time—the Poetic Edda and the Prose Edda. The Poetic Edda is an anonymous collection of Old Norse poems that are mainly pulled from an Icelandic medieval manuscript known as the Codex Regius (some of the poems date back to 800 CE). The Prose Edda is an Old Norse textbook for composing poetry that was written by a single author, Snorri Sturluson, a colorful Icelandic historian, scholar, and lawspeaker.

“Within the myths, you can see Loki moving from being just mischievous to being absolutely evil. If you think of him as only being mischievous, he’s actually a creative force and often ends up getting the gods much of their magical possessions, like Thor’s Hammer, through his cunning.”

“Pretty much everything we know about Loki came from Snorri Sturluson,” Viking scholar Nancy Marie Brown, author of Song of the Vikings: Snorri and the Making of Norse Myths, told io9. Brown says this was very appropriate given that “Snorri was quite a trickster figure himself.” While calling him the “Homer of the North,” Brown also acknowledges that Snorri spent a lifetime “double-crossing friends and family… scheming and plotting, blustering and fleeing”— a life that eventually led to his unheroic demise in a nightshirt where his (supposed) final words were “don’t strike!” In both Eddas, Loki is always portrayed as a cunning trickster. In the Prose Edda, Snorri describes Loki as “pleasing and handsome in appearance, evil in character, very capricious in behavior. He possessed to a greater degree than other [gods] the kind of learning that is called cunning.”

Besides appearances, Loki is always getting the gods into trouble and then cleverly extricating them from the mess he’s made. He fathers the Midgard Serpent destined to bring about Ragnarök, the end of the world in Norse mythology. He convinces the blind god Hodr to kill the beautiful and favored god Baldur. He kidnaps the goddess Idun to save his own hide from a furious giant. The mythological character is constantly switching sides—sometimes supporting the gods and sometimes their enemies, the giants. In the MCU, Loki is both hero and villain—in The Avengers he opened a wormhole in New York City releasing alien monsters and in Thor: Ragnarok he helped Thor save the Asgardians from Hela’s wrath.

Thorwald’s Cross, a fragmented runestone depicting Odin being consumed. Image: Public Domain

Loki might have begun as a Norse god of fire—fitting considering how fire can be both “helpful and destructive,” said Brown. Fire can both burn down your house and cook you dinner. It’s tricky that way—like Loki. As Brown puts it, “You can see his two sides there [reflected in fire].” Brown also explains that there was likely a transformation in Loki over the centuries. “Within the myths, you can see Loki moving from being just mischievous to being absolutely evil. If you think of him as only being mischievous, he’s actually a creative force and often ends up getting the gods much of their magical possessions, like Thor’s Hammer, through his cunning.” Again, it’s just like Marvel’s Loki, who sometimes helps the other gods out, like when he teamed up with Thor to escape the Grandmaster in Thor: Ragnarok.

What is Loki’s relationship with the Devil?

In the long, slow conversion of the Vikings to Christianity that took place between the 9th and 12th centuries, Loki became a parallel to the Christian Devil. The creative, positive elements of him fell away leaving only the god favored by the Father (Odin/God) before getting cast out. (It does sound a bit like Lucifer, right?) Christianity paints a world that is far more black and white, good vs. evil than the Norse pagan religion—here’s little room for a grey, ambiguous figure like Loki. As Brown puts it, “The Christian religion insists that you’re either with us or against us. Whereas in what we understand of the pagan Viking religion, there were a lot of shades of grey. There was a spectrum on which you could move back and forth. You weren’t all one thing or all the other. You weren’t all female or all male. You weren’t all good or all evil. It was more human.”

Loki always moved fluidly between those two polarities—helping Thor in one story, causing an overthrow of the gods in another. In one tale, Loki shapeshifts into a mare, becoming the mother of Odin’s great 8-legged horse, Sleipnir. In another, he fathers the wolf Fenrir. The Church couldn’t really handle all that grey area Loki liked to inhabit, and so it eventually cast him as the devil himself. “[Monks] had to sort the gods into saints and devils, and Loki by being sexually ambiguous and also morally ambiguous falls into the devil [category],” explained Brown. Though Marvel’s Loki certainly channels a bit of the devil at times, we’ve luckily yet to see him become both mother and father to world-ending, multi-legged monsters in the Marvel Universe. But, there’s still time, especially with the new Disney+ series hitting the small screen.

When was Loki’s Revival?

After the Viking conversion, the Norse myths started to fade, and Loki with them—until the 1600s, when medieval manuscripts like those containing the Prose and Poetic Edda began to be translated. “The reason [these myths] became popular was because of nationalism,” Brown told us. “In the mid to late 1800s, there was the idea that what distinguished one nation from another was its cultural heritage.” This spurred Jacob Ludwig Karl Grimm and Wilhelm Carl Grimm—known to many simply as the Brothers Grimm—to go “collect the stories of the local people to prove that Germany was a nation, not a collection of states. You had the same thing happening in Ireland to prove that they were different from the English and you have the same thing happening in Iceland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.” This eventually gave rise to the Nazis appropriating Norse myths in their twisted pursuit of alleging Aryan supremacy.

Following the Civil War, the United States also looked to the Middle Ages to redefine the country’s fractured identity. As Chris Bishop, author of Medievalist Comics and the American Century, explained to io9, “[the Middle Ages] offered an aesthetic that was individualistic (think: the knight errant, Robin Hood, etc.), given to interpretations of exceptionalism (Camelot, the once and future king), venerable (where old equalled established and respectable), and (unlike Classicism) Christian.” The Middle Ages, or more accurately the remixing of the Middle Ages known in academia as “medievalisms,” appealed to many Americans obsessed with ideas of American exceptionalism and singularity in the 19th century. Eventually the U.S.’s obsession with the Middle Ages made its way into comic books starting with Prince Valiant in 1937, a comic strip created by Hal Foster set in and around the legends of King Arthur. Other medievalist comics followed eventually leading to the inclusion of Norse gods like Loki, Thor, and Odin.

First appearance of Loki in the 1949 Venus comics. Image: Wikicommons

When was Marvel Comics’ Loki introduced?

While Loki first appeared in the 1949 comic book Venus styled after (you guessed it) the devil, the modern-age Loki didn’t hit the comic book scene until co-writers and brothers Stan Lee and Larry Lieber adapted him in 1962’s Journey into Mystery #85. It’s in that issue where Loki “becomes Thor’s enemy/ally/brother/adopted brother/etc,” said Bishop. The mischievous personality of the Norse god remains largely the same in the Loki of the comic books and films and even retains the ability to swap genders at times.

In the comics, Loki is raised as Thor’s brother in Asgard—somewhere the Marvel stories diverge from the Norse mythology. It’s Loki and Odin who are sworn brothers in the Norse myths, not Loki and Thor. As Brown explains, “Loki and Odin are blood brothers, which means they are even closer than real brothers.” In the Viking world, two people who swore a blood oath to one another formed a bond that went beyond kin, and so went the Norse Loki and Odin’s relationship. As Bishop points out, the Loki/Thor dynamic of the comics and movies is a “classic, formulaic archetype.” Thor is the “big, hunky, handsome (but slightly dumb) hero” and Loki is “his slight, quirky but super-smart frenemy. Loki is the dark, misunderstood, vulnerable shadow that audiences can relate to, reach out to, care for. Thor is that dumb jock who everyone looked up to at school, but Loki was that cool, quiet kid who went on to found a tech-empire.”

Why is Loki called a Trickster?

What does remain consistent with Loki is that he always plays the trickster. He is the manifestation of psychologist Carl Jung’s archetype: The trickster disrupts the individual and/or society causing either growth or destruction. Social scientist Helena Bassil-Morozow points out that when it comes to Loki, “despite the fact that the narrative details between the medieval Loki stories and their contemporary versions vary, the main idea remains the same—the trickster mercilessly attacks those in power and nearly causes the end of the world.” Both in the Norse myths and in Marvel, the world needs saving from Loki. He acts as the catalyst for a whole lot of upheaval—upheaval that in the Norse myths causes Ragnarök.

Loki “functions as a locus of salvation (literally, a prodigal son).” Loki just might be a savior. He’s someone audiences can look at and think “if Loki can be redeemed, so too might I.”

Perhaps that’s where the two narratives differ the most. In the Norse tales, the end of the world at Ragnarök is inevitable. Odin and Thor will die. Everything will change. Vikings lived with the knowledge that their world would end. In the MCU, we don’t know how the story ends, plus Ragnarök took place already and yet the Asgardians live on. There’s still hope that Loki will prove to be good and that the other superheroes will save the world from whatever mayhem he’s caused, or so we can hope in the upcoming Disney+ series. As Bishop puts it, Loki “functions as a locus of salvation (literally, a prodigal son).” Loki just might be a savior. He’s someone audiences can look at and think “if Loki can be redeemed, so too might I,” explains Bishop.

While the Vikings’ Loki caused the end of the world, today’s Loki might just save it. Or maybe not. And, perhaps that’s the fun of the trickster—you never quite know what they’ll get up to.

[tamagochiie]

a line without a hook | part three.

part three. “merely tolerable, really.”

chapter synopsis. Had you known freedom tasted like this, you wouldn’t have bothered to form an attachment with Mr. Ackerman. Was there really a point in what you were doing? 

word count. 7.5k

tags. swearing, angst, tones of misogyny

notes. This is a very late post, and I apologize for that, but I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. As for the upcoming chapter for this week, there may been another delay. I’ve been swamped with a lot of assignments and its my finals week, so I hope you all understand :/ 

back to master list

<< part two. | part four. >>

Your mother always told you gossip to women is like honey to a swarm of flies: you can catch more of them depending how sweet the scandal is. But she never thought to tell you what it'd be like if you were the honey, that the women would stick to you, drinking the life out of every little thing you do and unpack it together with their girl friends over afternoon tea and biscuits.

Your name, along with Mr. Ackerman's, had travelled from one tongue to the other in the last four days.

Each story are more intricately fabricated than the last. You heard all sorts of things, too many thing to keep track of — something about Mr. Ackerman's family background and more so yours, but you didn't want to pay heed over something that didn't come directly from the man himself.

And just the other day, while you commuted to town to deliver Reiner's forgotten lunch, you overhead a group of women whispering that you were already singing with the church bells.

You had shuddered at the thought and assumed it was something your mother must've cooked up given how she easily melted at Mr. Ackerman's feet when he came to visit a few days ago.

You and Mr. Ackerman were both aware that his visit, and all the kind and loving words he had said before you and your family, were merely for show. And that it was for purpose of sweeping your house clean of all trespassers and violators of your freedom.

But nonetheless, even with a letter that came to heed you of his visit, you were still left utterly speechless.

Mr. Ackerman had strolled into your cozy home, he hadn't been swathed in his usual drab choice of clothing, but settled with more pleasing fashion that didn't say,"I'm pessimistic and moody, and I've got a reputation for killing for sport".

He had been bathed in shades of blue, but still leaned on the darker side of the color spectrum. It had been a good change save for his signature cravat, and it led you to wonder just how many he owned.

You came to the conclusion he owned quite enough to be stitched together and make a thick and long blanket to last through the winter.

However, what had left you gobsmacked and rapidly blinking in succession was not Mr. Ackerman's slight change of style, but the little smirk across his lips while he spoke to your mother. His tone hadn't been clipped and did not drip in annoyance, but was a twinge softer — completely out of pocket for a man with a reputation for being dark and brooding.

Sasha, on the other hand, had been easily tickled in pure curiosity by Mr. Ackerman, poking and prodding him with peculiar and rather personal questions. You had expected he'd yell at her, seeing he'd be the kind of person to do that.

But he didn't snap. It was obvious his patience had been wearing thing, so he kept his replies quick and short just like his temper.

Pieck never spoke a word, but had instead observed the exchange as she sat on the couch, sandwiched between Connie and Jean while your mother had done her best to entertain Mr. Ackerman in small talk even though the man reeks of disdain for it.

Though Mr. Ackerman had successfully wooed your mother, and probably the rest of your sisters and Connie, Reiner was anything but.

Your brother protectively glued himself to your side, glaring down at Mr. Ackerman with a vexed look plastered across his scruffy face. Unfortunately, Reiner's attempt to be intimidating had fallen short and made you not only you, but Mr. Ackerman, suppress a stifling laugh.

Regardless of your brother's wishes, Mr. Ackerman's visit had been deemed fruitful. Your mother's eyes as well as her heart completely set on Mr. Ackerman and Mr. Ackerman alone.

To which both requests you firmly nodded and smiled at.

But your smile had been quick to fade.

You agreed to this little sham because you admired your freedom, but ever since Mr. Ackerman's visit, despite no men coming to bother you from the early hours of the morning till the late afternoon, you find yourself anything but free.

Your mother, the seventh circle of your personal hell, has taken it upon herself to berate you—tells you to make more of an effort on your appearance. She'll comment on how you sit, how you speak or how you eat, and every other thing you do.

You may have been liberated by the lusting grips of men, your mother's iron clad hold on even the thought of you being a few steps away from marriage is much tighter, and much more stubborn than you ever imagined.

So you spend your days hidden in your room, away from your mother and the rest of the world.

Sometimes you'll read or stare out the window, and when you do decide to step out of your little bubble, you'll be sure to check if the coast is clear from any possibly ambushes from your mother.

Though the only time you really do go out is to check the mail to see if Mr. Ackerman has written to you — he has not — or spend some time with your great love, your horse, Maria.

But for the most part, you plant yourself on the couch right up against window sill with your back slumped on the wall and legs sprawled out. You stare outside, not really looking at anything in particular.

Maybe the chickens.

You heavily sigh, fogging up the class as you gaze idly, twirling the ends of your hair. You grow jealous of the chickens and the roosters because at least they have their freedom. Their simple minds and their simple lives; the lay eggs and crow at dawn.

Damn chickens, you seethe in thought.

There's a faint knocking on your bedroom door that cease your internal tanget. You turn your head as the door creaks open, revealing your sister, Sasha, poking her head out between the gap. A friendly smile adorns her pink lips as she holds a plate of food in her hands.

"Can I come in?" She asks, already stepping inside. "I brought you food. You've been cooped up in here for too long, I thought you might be hungry."

You chuckle and motion her to come in.

Sasha moves briskly and steps inside before shutting the door behind her. She tiptoes across the room and over to you. She lightly taps your foot to make room and you swing it off the couch.

She places the tray between the two of you. A few loaves of bread, some grapes, and other fresh fruit that you assume she's stolen from the batch Reiner's supposed to sell.

She swipes the loaf of bread, breaking it in half and hands you the bigger piece before chewing her's down.

"You alright?" She asks, her words muffled by the bread. "Mamma's gotten under your skin, hasn't she?"

You bob your head, humming in response as you eat the bread bit by bit, taking your time.

Sasha follows your line of sight, checking to see what you've been so keenly staring at. Only to find that it's just a bunch of chickens running around.

"I'm overwhelmed," You confess breathily. You pull your legs up to your chest and rest your chin onto your knees. "I don't like the feeling one bit."

"Is it because of Mr. Ackerman?" Sasha looks at you with concern outlining the softness of her face. You don't really reply, just lulling your head in thought. "You surprise me, you know."

"I do?"

Sasha hums delightfully as she takes her last bite of her bread before moving onto the grapes.

"For someone who admires her freedom and never spared an interest in even the thought of forming an attachment, you latched onto Mr. Ackerman rather quickly." Sasha had always been mistaken for an idiot at a surface level, but she's a lot more perceptive than people give her credit for — than you give her credit for. And for once, you hated it. "One could even say that it's a bit...odd. But you've always been off, so maybe it isn't so out of the blue."

"Oh, how you read me so well," You say, sarcasm oozing from your words. You take a quick bite of bread.

"What's he like?"

You shrug your shoulders, pouting in thought. "I've only ever met him thrice," You point out, laughing at the curiosity avidly pooling from her eyes. "There's not much I can judge. If anything, I think you'd know more than me since you've pummeled the poor man with one too many questions."

Sasha takes the tray of food and scooches closer to you before putting it on her lap.

"But that's different! You've gotten first hand experience. Is he really like all the rumors?" She asks, a little too keenly. "Is he really as mean as they say? Because when he visited the house, he seemed too stiff for comfort."

You snort and are quick to cover your mouth to keep the bread from spilling from your lips.

"Mm, well, Mr. Ackerman is man of few words and very few expression, but he seems...genuine?" You don't mean for it to come out sounding like a question, but the more you speak, the more you're hit with the realization you know absolutely no idea who the man is.

All you're really left with is his hatred for attention, and your mutual need for peace. Everything else you try to think of comes up short.

Mr. Ackerman hasn't written a letter to you since his visit. It's not like he said he was going to, but a very small and naive part of you thought he would.

Sasha continues to rain down on you with more questions, but it isn't as persistent as you'd expect her to be. Its either her line of concentration snaps too quickly for you to formulate a response, or she's just too excited to hear more.

You answer what you can until you can no longer think. Eventually you're too tired to talk about you and the subject of the conversation shifts to Sasha.

"Hey, Sasha," You carefully speak between chews, minding the grape in your mouth. Sasha's eyes, still colored in hunger as she takes another loaf of bread, darts to look at you. "What about you, though?"

"Hmm?"

"You and..." You shift in your seat and lean in. "You and Nicolo - are you two really - Oh! My God, are you alright?"

Sasha nearly chokes on her bread. Clenching her fist, she beats her chest to help soothe the burn in her throat, coughing for air.

"Sasha!"

"I-I'm fine!" She finally says, swallowing thickly. "Sorry, yes, I'm fine."

"Do you need water?" Sasha shakes her head as she rests her hand on your shoulder to keep you still in case you choose to leave. You move even closer to rub her back to ease her, but once she does, a smirk plays across your lips and chuckle stumbles from your lips. "So, I guess it's true. You and Nicolo really are —"

"Shut up!" Sasha interjects, her head snapping up to look at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. "Please! I've had enough of mamma pestering me about this— ever since Pieck decided to tattle on me! If you're going to being just as annoying as her than—"

"I won't be!" You argue, your tone playful and lilting. "I'm only asking, and you're taking forever to say anything!"

"Well, fine! Alright." Sasha sharply huffs in defeat as she tosses her bread onto the tray and sets it back onto the couch. "Yes, okay, I suppose I might have feelings for Nicolo, but I don't know. I can't tell."

"You can't tell...?"

Sasha lets out another breath as she slumps against the wall. Her head tilts up to look at the cracked ceiling before looking back down to you, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she picks the right words to convey how she feels. She nervously twiddles her thumbs while doing so.

"How do you even know when you like someone?"

You blink at Sasha, taken aback by her question while she looks at you eagerly.

You realize, after a few breaths, you don't have a definite answer because unlike Pieck, you've never really experienced the feeling yourself. You always lived vicariously through fictional characters you read in novels, and Mrs. Bloom's sweet story of how she met her husband.

But other than that, you come up short—you can't tell at all.

"I think I'm the wrong one to ask." You confess, causing Sasha to look at you quizzically as confusion stirs in her mind. "I haven't really found the answer myself, I'm sorry."

Sasha sighs dejectedly.

"It's best to ask Pieck, isn't it?"

"As me what?" Pieck's voice, delicate and laced in curiosity, has your heads turn to the bedroom door.

It seems you were both too deep into your conversation to hear her knocking.

Pieck stands by the door, her olive green dress flows in the gentle window coming from the opened window, her hair into the usual messy, low ponytail that falls down her shoulders; her eyes heavy-laden with sleepiness.

Your eyes trail down to her hand, finding a pile of letters tightly held in it.

"Pieck, what's that?" You ask, dismissing her question with a question.

"Now hold on," Pieck hides the letters behind her back, pressing herself against the door to create even more distance—as if the wide expanse of the room wasn't enough. "What's the question?"

Sasha rolls her eyes. "It's silly."

"Well, if it's from you, I'm sure it is."

Sasha grumbles at Pieck's sarcastic retort, and you watch as your two sisters begin to bicker.

"If you're going to be an ass, I won't tell you." Sasha crosses her arms and twists her body away from Pieck and towards the window, her eyes falling to the clucking hens.

Peick nimbly trots across the floor and over to Sasha's side, crashing into her and quickly wrapping her arms around her shoulders, nosing through Sasha's hair bunched up in a high pony as she rests her chin onto her shoulder.

"Go away!" Sasha growls, her face contorts a sour expression as her attempts to shove Pieck off fails.

"Oh, c'moooon," Pieck coos, peppering kisses over her little sister's cheek, "won't you tell me? I hate being left out, especially when it's the two of you."

Sasha grunts as she tries to pry away from Pieck, but only to be caught in sloppy kisses on the cheek and the temple of her forehead. Though Sasha visibly shows disgust, even you can see that she loves being showered in affection from Pieck.

Pieck, being the eldest and holding the most responsibility, had always held you both with great love and adoration.

"Alright!" Sasha yells in surrender, tangled in the arms of her sister and somehow in a headlock as Pieck sits behind her. "I'll tell you, I'll tell you! Let me go and give me room, please."

Sasha elbows Pieck away from her, giving her enough space to breathe, and you snatch the tray off the couch and onto your lap to keep it from falling.

And as Sasha begins to explain her little dilemma, Pieck comfortably sits herself behind her, propping her chin back onto her shoulder and winding her arm around her waist as she listens intently. Pieck's gentleness doesn't go unnoticed by Sasha, and you watch as she sinks in the hug.

Pieck clicks her tongue, her eyes look at you as she falls into a thought, not deep enough to overthink and get carried away as she finds the answer.

"Hmmm, love and likeness can be complicated, but only if you let it be." You tilt your head at Pieck as she continues on her train of thought. "But you can tell if you like someone if you enjoy being with them and find their company pleasant. Do you find Nicolo's company pleasant?"

Sasha mindlessly hums in thought as her head lulls back on Pieck's shoulder.

"I do, actually." Sasha admits without hesitation. "I think..." She takes a beat to suck her teeth as she continues to think about it a little more, "I like the food he makes and that he, well, never seems to be bothered by me..."

"He's always so kind—like his eyes. His smile's nice, too, I suppose. Whenever he speaks, whether it's about food or well, other things, I can't help but listen."

There it is, the shimmer of affection in her light brown eyes and the oh-so-subtle smile across her lips. You almost miss it, but the world stills around you as you're caught in her bubble.

Pieck gives you a knowing look, smiling playfully.

Without saying a word or even slipping a sound, you and Pieck come to the agreement that Sasha'll have to come to her own realization that he loves him. The question is when she'll arrive at it.

Sasha brushes it off, not wanting to muddle herself any longer. She plucks the letters from Pieck's grasp and eagerly swifts through the pile while humming thoughtfully, completely ignoring Pieck's groan of disdain.

It's the usual; a couple of people from your father's family, inquiring when you're to sell the estate, one from your distant aunt from your mother's side that never bothers to actually visit, but diligently sends letters whether it be rain or shine, and one for —

"You've got a letter!" Sasha chirps, snapping her head up to look at you before shoving it into your hands. "It's from Mr. Ackerman! He's finally written to you!"

You throw your legs over the edge of the couch, sitting upright and fixing your hair as if Mr. Ackerman's just right there, watching you as you open his letter with shaky breaths and nimble fingers.

You quickly but carefully open his letter, scanning through his words and your eyes bulge out of it's sockets.

"What's it say?" Pieck inquires, excitement dripping from her lips as she scooches closer to try and peak at the letter. "Will he be visiting again?"

You shake your head.

"Well, don't be shy!" Sasha whines, "What is it?"

You open and close your mouth, blinking frantically as your shock still rides through your body. "Mr. Ackerman would like me to visit him at his estate next Tuesday."

When your mother heard news of your presence being requested by Mr. Ackerman, she took it upon herself to teach everything you needed to know about being "prim and proper". She stole your remaining days of peace and prepped you as best as she could.

When it came time for you to leave, she was adamant that you opt to take horseback instead of taking the carriage. All, especially your brother Reiner, were completely against it when they noticed the storm clouds reeling in. But your mother was deeply rooted in her stance, firm like a tree that not even the wind of your brother's disdain could change her mind.

So there you stand, having been caught in the rain, dripping from head to toe as the Smith estate towers over you, as if it's ready to swallow you whole in one go. You have to crane your neck back in a particularly painful angle to get a good look of the entire building, and you’re sure you’re only seeing the very tip of the iceberg.

Your mother warned you it would be much larger than you were used to - you just never imagined it to look like something out of a book.

Shivering and tightly wrapping your coat over you to trap any warmth you might have left with one hand, you swiftly knock on the door with the other. A shuddering breath escapes you when the door creaks open, revealing a servant to greet you in.

“Ah, Miss,” The servant’s eyes widen in fright, flinching back.  His gulp is audible even with the thundering behind you. He scans you from head to toe, and he doesn’t bother to mask his sneering at your drenched frame and all the mud collected at the hem of your skirt. “You must be Miss Blouse, yes?” You greeted him with a sneeze, and briefly apologized. “Come quickly before you catch a cold.”

But your second and most aggressive sneeze yet tells him you might already have one.

“He’s been expecting you,” Is all the servant says before guiding you down that hall.

You rub your eyes, wiping your hairs sticking to your face as you take in the sight before you. The air in the estate is chilly and deadly quiet - enough to hear the sound of your clothes dripping with water and to catch the servant clicking his tongue at you.

You hold your breath; you didn’t think the estate could get any bigger, but it does. The hallway is vast and seemingly endless; portraits of many different men and women - all who you assume were probably family members of Mr. Smith because of the signature blonde hair and blue eyes - canvas over the great walls.

Giddiness tickles down from your chest and into your stomach as you trail behind the servant, your arms swaying to the side with a little skip in your step. You try your best to catch a peak at every room and hall you pass by, but everything moves in blur.

You can’t tell if you’re tired from your travels or if it's the pace you’re walking in. You take deep breaths, trying to pull yourself together as the servant ushers you into the drawing room.

“Mr. Ackerman will be here shortly,” is all he leaves you with, not bothering to spare another breath.

You’re surrounded by more paintings and books, but a particular painting catches your eye. It’s a portrait of a woman relaxed on a chair; she looks nothing like the ones outside.  She has soft features and kind eyes, her lips supple and plump with an endearing smile. Her dark hair flows down to her shoulders, framing her face.

You squint your eyes, inching towards it with your hands clasped behind your back to avoid reaching out to touch it. The longer you stare, you find a weird sense of familiarity in her. But you just can’t -

“You’re wet.” You snap your head towards the gravelly voice to find Levi standing by the door with his brows pulled down in horror. “You’ve tracked in so much rain water, I thought a dog had stalked in.”

“Oh, I’m quite fine - achoo! Thank you for asking - achoo!” Your feeble attempt to shoot down his sarcastic remark is embarrassingly interrupted by your persistent sneezing. You wipe your nose with the back of your glove, earning a look of disgust from Mr. Ackerman. “Excuse me, I got caught in the rain.”

“I couldn’t tell,” He clips with a tight lip. “You could catch a cold -”

“Achoo!”

“It seems you already have…” Mr. Ackerman groans, and you find yourself picking at your fingers in embarrassment, your head lowered to the floor. “Follow me, I’ll give you something to change out of.”

Mr. Ackerman wastes a single breath, nor does he allow you to. But instead, with the utmost jaded expression on his face, he turns on his heels and leaves the room, expecting you to follow. You have to admit, with a fuzzy feeling buzzing in your head and the sudden sensitivity to the ache in your bones, it takes you a moment to pick up what he says and follow suit.

Has it always been this chilly?

A tremble in your damp coat, exhaling tremulously as you trot down the hall behind Mr. Ackerman. Your struggle for warmth doesn’t fall on dear ears, but it does motivate him to pick up the pace, up the winding steps and into another hallway.

Your shoes continue to click against the marble, passing by paintings and statues; for a moment you mistaken yourself to be wandering around a museum and not someone else’s home. But your head is spinning and you can’t appreciate the art even if you wanted you - you can’t even glance at a painting without wanting to vomit.

Mr. Ackerman comes to a jagged halt, causing you to nearly stumble against him. He glares at you over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” You mutter before stumbling a few steps back to give him space.

“Wait in there,” He instructs dryly, “and I’ll get someone to help you in a bit.”

“Oh, I - I don’t understand -”

“You have a cold,” He points out, “and I don’t think you’ll appreciate it if it were me helping you change out of your clothes.”

Your cheeks flush and your heart paces quickly in your chest; embarrassment overwhelms you and you wish the ground would swallow you up. He’s too direct and it makes your knees a little wobbly along with the rest of your body - you’ve turned into jello.

“Just wait in there and there’ll be a maid to bring you clothes. I’ll meet you again once you’re done.”

“Oh, uh, thank you.” You whisper, your eyes finally snap from the floor and meet Mr. Ackerman’s same old arid visage, but there’s a tenuous, unfamiliar gleam in his eyes you can’t seem to read.

He sternly nods, but just before trodding off you call after him, “Mr. Ackerman?” Your voice hushed and trembly.

“Yes, Miss Blouse?” He watches you expectantly, his head faintly tilting to the side. “Is there something else?”

Ironically, despite Mr. Ackerman coldness and indifference, you can feel that he cares - his warmth. And you can’t help but feel dangerously eager, a little selfish even, for wanting more. You can’t help but want to push further, but you’re reminded of the rumors and prefer not to push your luck.

“Thank you,” You say with a smile, a genuine one that catches him off guard, but not that you can tell with your glossy eyes.  “Thank you fo - achoo! I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Ackerman.”

There’s a very, very subtle blush that spreads across his cheeks that reaches the tips of his ears, and maybe if it wasn’t for the odd lightly in the hallway, you would’ve caught it. But once again, Mr. Ackerman thanks his lucky stars and gulps, “Don’t mind it too much,” and spins on his heels before striding down the hallway.

You watch till his footsteps fade and his slender frame disappears as he turns the corner before finally looking at the door beside you. You stare at the door knob, your hand fidgeting over it before finally taking it in your hand and opening the door.

You gasp in awe, your eyes going round - the room can eat your house in a single bite. Even the bed that sits at the center, headboard pushed up against the wall, is bigger than the one your share with Pieck. Maybe bigger than the bed your mother and father shared.

You step inside, pushing the door shut behind you before twirling and taking in all the green and gold in the room. You’ve never seen so much gold - you’ve never seen gold in general, but here you are completely surrounded by it.

The strident knocking on the door causes you to still, staggering over your feet to find a familiar face greeting you with a cheerful smile, balancing a folded pile of clothes in their hand.

“Hange!” You squeak in shock, nearly losing your balance.

“Miss Blouse,” They playfully salute to you before entering in completely. “I saw you come in earlier and Levi said you’d be in here, so I thought to help. Though he did oppose, I'm not one to follow orders anyway.”

They cleverly wink at you, stretching their arm out to hand you the clothes and you meekly take it.

“How are you feeling?” They ask, taking a seat on the bed, “You can change over there, behind the partition,” They point to the other side of the room where it stands beside the window, and you quickly shuffling behind it.

You finally peel off your clothes, finally being freed by way your damp clothes and the way it clung to your body. You sigh heavily, tremulously.

“So, how are you feeling?” Hange’s voice echoes in the room from where they sit. They lean back on the heel of their palms, lulling their head bad carelessly as they wait for your response. “Levi said you might have a cold, and luckily for you, I’m a doctor.”

You hum in response, your focus directed on changing your clothes as quickly as possible.

“I’m, uh, I think I’m okay,” There’s a tingling in your skin and an unbearable ache in your bones. Your whole body feels sensitive; you’re not sure if you feel chilly or too warm. But you don’t want to be a burden, especially since you’re already borrowing someone else's clothes.

Whose are these anyway? You can’t imagine these are Hange’s, it’s way too small.

“He said you were sneezing!” They say, their voice slightly raising. “That you were sneezing a lot.”

“Probably just allergies!” You try and laugh it off, hoping Hange doesn’t press any further. But much to your displeasure, Hange isn’t one to simply let things go.

But the moment you step out from the partition, tying your hair up to keep from staining the dress, Hange strides over to you, placing her wrist onto your forehead and hums.

“You’re sick.”

“I’m fine.” You press.

“You’re a liar.”

“I'm not!” The whine that escapes your dried lips, takes enough energy from you to have your vision grow spotty and have your knees give in. Hange loops their arm around your waist and you slump onto their chest for support. “Right, maybe I am a liar,” You admit breathily, your eyes fluttering shut. “I’m really sorry, this is extremely impolite and my mother would kill me if she found me like this.”

“Never mind what your mother says,” They sigh before helping you over to the bed, “nothing good will come of thinking about what your mother says,”

You laugh softly, finding irony in their words.

The cushions are warm and comforting, pulling you into ease as you’re swayed by your need for rest. You try to combat it by blinking away, but drowsiness overtakes you like an unrelenting storm and you fall perilous to it the second your head sinks into the pillows.

You're greeted by a sharp, persistent ache in your head and a stubborn throb in your bones. You moan in discomfort and writhe beneath the cotton bed sheets.

You feel something cold dripping down your head, but before you can reach to check, you feel a wet cloth being placed on your forehead. You crack your eyes open and draw a bitter breath to find Mr. Ackerman towering over you. His brows pulled into a deep line of focus and his eyes colored in determination as if its taking all his verve to adjust the way the towel sits on your head.

He looks down at you and his expression softens.

It softens?

"You're awake," Mr. Ackerman notes. Maybe its the sickness, and that you're probably imagining it, but does Mr. Ackerman's tone sound a lot gentler? Its almost as if he's concerned for your well-being — almost as if he's worried and relieved you're finally awake. But his face remains unreadable, devoid of emotion. "You've been asleep for quite some time, but your temperature seemed persistent. Hange said as long as the rag is frequently changed then you should be better. How are you feeling?"

Does that mean he's been changing the rag? He said it should 'changed frequently' —

You arch your back when the ache in your bones come back stronger than ever. You whine in pain and drown back into the mattress.

"I don't feel too well," You croak, swallowing dryly.

"Do you need water?"

You can only nod.

Mr. Ackerman swiftly reaches for the glass of water that sits on the bedside table. You try and sit up , your bones feel like chalk as it grates against each other. You try to take it from him, but he raises his free hand to stop you. “Let me,” is all he says to you before bringing it up to your lips.

Baffled, you still drink it.

Your thoughts are still too foggy to draft a single thought. But all you is know your heart’s drumming in your chest and your breath is hitched in your throat for an entirely different reason that’s far from your cold.

You sigh in relief after a few gulps, muttering a ‘thank you’.

“Mr. Ackerman, you said that I’ve been asleep for quite some time,” You recount, looking at him puzzled, “How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days.” He replies flatly, as if he's not bothered by it at all.

“Excuse me?”

Mr. Ackerman hums as he falls back into his chair grabbing the book beside him before opening it up to the page he left off.

“You needn’t worry,” He eases without looking up to meet your eyes, as unbothered by the worry screaming in your eyes. “I’ve already written a letter to your mother the moment you fell asleep and informed her of your current state.”

“And what did she say of it?”

“She deeply apologizes for overstaying your welcome, but is pleased to know you’re in good hands.” Mr. Ackerman turns to the next page before he crosses his legs. His eyes flicker up to look at you to find irritation seeping out of your through eyes narrowed at an empty space on the floor, chewing on the inside of your cheek “I assured her that **you are in good hands, Miss Blouse.”

“I’m sorry,” You apologize again for the umpteenth time as you stressfully run your fingers through your hair. “My mother must’ve planned this in hopes that I may grow closer to you.”

Mr. Ackerman cocks his brow at you, “Are you blaming your mother for your cold? Shouldn’t you be blaming the weather, or that you rode on horseback on a rainy day?”

"I cannot blame my mother for my cold or the weather, but I can blame her for scheming along with it." You sigh, leaning your head back onto the pillow, "My mother is an opportunist, so she must've seen the rain clouds as her 'moment to grasp'. She was adamant that I take horseback and not that carriage. My mother is many things, but most importantly, she's a scheming woman."

Much to your surprise, Mr. Ackerman smirks at your words. He smirks.

He licks his thumb before turning the page of his book, his eyes ghosting over the words without much intention to actually read.

"What are you doing?" You ask, twisting to face him, your hand tucking beneath the side of your face.

"I'm reading." He isn't.

"Here?"

"Would you rather I not keep you company?" His grey eyes blink away from the page and up at you. "Isn't this the whole point of your visit, to get o know each other?"

"W—Well, yes, but I didn't think you'd take our proposition quite literally." You voice falls soft at the end of your sentence and you feel yourself shrink in embarrassment.

"How else are we to make them believe we've formed an attachment?"

"Oh, well—"

"Is my company a bother?"

You shake your head. "Is mine?"

Mr. Ackerman chuckles and if it weren't for the whirling of your brain, you would've caught it. "Merely tolerable, really. You best get some rest, Miss. Blouse."

When you awaken again, it’s a little later in the afternoon and the sun is harshly bleeding through the glass window and casting over your face.

The first thing you notice is not the freshly changed rag resting over your forehead, but the empty chair that Mr. Ackerman sat himself earlier. You pout and you feel a little disappointed.

Disappointed?

What?

You prop yourself up on your elbows, drawing a sigh of relief. The smell of fresh sheets permeate your lungs and your tilt your head back before tilting it back up again.

Through your hooded gaze, your eyes scan through the room. You finally appreciate just how beautifully decorated it is. Shades of complimentary greens canvas the room and soft golds accent the room here and there. It’s ingrained in the walls and on the doors, and coloring the the bed posts, too.

With nimble fingers, you peel the covers off and a wave of cool air washes over your body.The floor is just as cold when your feet meet the carpet. You shuffle around the room, nosing through things but never really touching anything. You're too scared you might accidentally break something.

But the thirst of your curiosity has yet to be quenched, so you find yourself straying out the room, trotting down the hall and twirling around the space gleefully.

The estate is something written in the books. If it wasn't for the dreary, unsettling air hanging over you as thick as fog, the feeling would be magical.

Too busy to play make believe in your head, you find yourself too far off the path. Everything looks the same, and you eyes widen in panic.

Think, think, think, you chant inwardly, twisting your head around for something familiar.

Panic rises from your chest and lodges into your throat, and the last thing you need is to fall onto Mr. Ackerman's bad side.

But before your knees can shake in such unnerving trepidation, faint whispers echoing down the hall and towards you pull you from your thoughts. The voice are so faint and low, you nearly mistaken it to be elves.

You listen intently and follow the source, passing through a few more paintings and doors to lead you to a fragment of light bouncing off the wall and onto a door left ajar. You come to an immediate standstill when you recognize the voice — it's Mr. Ackerman.

Every inch of you tells you to turn around and walk away, but you aren't your mother's daughter for nothing. So the greater part of you belonging to her tugs you close, stealing a peak through the little gap as you hold your breath.

"When did you hear of this?" Mr. Ackerman's voice is gravelly, laced in annoyance. You hear him sharply huff followed by the sound of a hand slamming against the table, causing you to jolt in place. "How long have you known?"

"Not long," The unfamiliar, gruff voice says, and Levi grumbles. "Be thankful I'm telling you now and not waiting any longer. How could I with all your dallying? Since when have you taken any interest in marriage?"

"I haven't." He clips, tone dry. "The point is —"

"The point is, he's back and the last thing you need to do is wasting your time in courting a woman. Honestly, Levi, since when have you been so reckless?"

"Erwin," Mr. Ackerman grits, "my personal affairs have nothing to do with you. Who I choose to spend my time with has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with me!" Mr. Smith seethes, yelling in a whispers. "If you cannot do your job, then how can I trust you? Do you not remember the reason why we're here?"

"I'm not an idiot."

"It seems that you are," Your eyes widen at Mr. Smith's counter, "she's slept here for two days, and you for two days, you've watched over her instead of doing what I've instructed you to do."

"She was sick." Mr. Ackerman argues flatly.

"Hange is a doctor for a reason."

"And I don't trust them for a reason."

You can only assume it's Mr. Smith who sighs dejectedly and clicking his tongue agitation. It only further piques your interest, and you wish it doesn't. But you can't help it, hearing that Mr. Ackerman stayed by your side while you rested made your cheeks burn and you can't help but grin to yourself, completely overjoyed.

You mentally kick yourself for being so much like your mother.

"You cannot hold that burden with you forever." Mr. Smith sighs.

"Whatever," Is the weak counter Mr. Ackerman spits back. "I'll take care of it tonight — the one of Governor Pixy's."

"Be sure to make yourself like an artificial night when you do." Mr. Smith commands, his voice smooth and stern. "You mustn't be caught."

"When have I ever been?"

You quickly leave, sprinting down the hall the moment you hear a chair grating against the floor.

Your heart drums in your chest and you breath tremulously. You heard something you shouldn't have even if it was only in incoherent pieces. Truly, it could be anything, but with the rumors circulating around him, it shouldn't be so surprising.

So why is it?

You find yourself in a more familiar part of the estate and you breathe out in relief.

You’re about to head back into your room when you stumble past a room, catching a glance of a grand piano standing tall from the corner of your eye. You retract your steps and turn your head to get a better look, your lips falling into an 'o' when you do.

She's beautiful, you think.

It’s an alluring, glossy ebony piano — one Sasha finds herself drooling over to play on whenever she sees one. She'll hate you so much when you tell her about it.

Against your better judgement, with all the bells warily ringing for you not to, you walk over to the piano, your hand shadowing over the wood. You take a seat before the keyboard just to take a good look at her. You have no intention to play her, really. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't for the life of you.

Your eyes flicker to the fall board of the piano and find a name engraved in gold.

"Petra," you whisper. "It's very nice to meet you. You're very beautiful, aren't you?"

"What the hell are you doing?" You shoot up from the chair and snap your head up to find Mr. Ackerman fuming at you. His eyes dark with rage and his jaw screwed shut, gritting at you. "I asked you a question."

"I— I didn't touch anything." You peep. You feel incredibly small underneath his scrutinizing gaze. You wish the ground would swallow you up right then and there. "I, I really didn't—"

"Get the fuck away from her." Mr. Ackerman speaks lowly, his voice quietly trembling, but you can't hear it. 

Even if you hadn’t done anything wrong, you feel as if you’ve been caught red handed. Fear buzzes in your head and fogs up any line of thought. 

"I'm sorry?"

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE PIANO!" He bellows, his eyes as fiery as his anger, causing you to stumble back and nearly trip up on your feet. "Who the fuck do you think you are, wandering into places you have no business? Is this what you shitty farm people are like? You get a chance to walk into a place thrice the size of your home and they think they could just parade around?!"

"I—I didn't mean to —"

"You and your family are fucking disgusting."

There are many things you're willing to put up with. You don't mind if someone were to come after you and call you out, but coming after your family is completely different. So your kindness and the very last bit of your patience snaps like a twig.

"I would imagine you're the disgusting one." Your voice is still small, but you’re building up to your confidence, peeling your eyes away from the patterned carpet to stare daggers right back at Mr. Ackerman who stills completely.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll admit I've overstepped and I deeply apologize for that," You begin, your voice no longer wavering in fear, "but how dare you? My family’s been nothing but kind to you."

"I think you've mistaken that I fucking care."

"I've heard many things about you, too many, for that matter. Yet I never labelled as anything as derogatory as what you've called me." You draw out a sharp breath, closing your eyes for a moment to steady you heart before continuing, "I think its disgusting, I think,  that such a man as yourself, who've I've heard has been through hell and back, would think so lowly of people that's no different than him."

You never dared to listen to the rumors or any of the gossip. Even when your mother would try to entertain any of it, you’d stop listening or leave the room if you could. But if Mr. Ackerman was willing to aim for such a low blow, you couldn't think of a reason why you shouldn't do the same.

"I think you’re 'fucking disgusting' for forgetting where you came from."

Mr. Ackerman clenches his jaw and balls his fits tight til his knuckles paint white. He's ready to fire bullets into your self-esteem, but before Mr. Ackerman can even utter a syllable, a servant appears behind him, clearing his throat to cut of the momentum.

"Apologies for the intrusion," The servant says, his tone monotonous and dry, "but it Miss Blouse's brother is here to collect her."

You widen your eyes at the servant, and your expression softens. 

“Reiner’s here?” You voice is small again. 

“Yes, Miss.”

"Perfect." Mr. Ackerman huffs, his whole body still tense. "Get the fuck out."

You snap your gaze back to Mr. Ackerman, sneering, "Gladly."

tag list. @castellandiangelo @astronomyturtle @regalillegal @oshuncheyenne @drapetomaniaac @whalerus @hinaamaya @ggsmashgg @kyosugi92 @daikushiji @acker-baby @lundabean @moonxochu @melodiamore @unlikelyfestivalshepherdhuman @osmosly @halparkebitch @leashaoki @bonkybabe @myeg1993 @chikenbitches @subtlepjiminie @mangobee

[alexchild60]

What A Man Gotta Do- Kung Lao x Reader

I wrote this after listening to What A Man Gotta Do by The Jonas Brothers. I hope you enjoy it :)

I dodged another kick as Kung Lao’s leg came towards me. 

“Gotta be quicker than that, Lao,” I teased with a smile on my face.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he teased back.

I continued to play defense as I waited for my opportunity to strike. I knew if I had any chance of winning, I needed to wait. Kung Lao was quite a bit larger than me, so my chances were slim on outmaneuvering him with strength. He would strike, I would block. This continued for what felt like a long time. I dodged one of Kung Lao’s strikes which resulted in his left leg vulnerable. I swept his left leg out from underneath him. He jumped up from the ground and pulled his hat off his head. He strategically used his hat to strike at me. I took a step back every time I dodged his hat. My back finally hit the wall of the fight pit.

“Ready to surrender, (Y/N)?”

“In your dreams.” I used a gush of wind to push him back a few steps. I started playing offense. I was managing to push Kung Lao back with the combination of my arcana and my skills. He tossed his hat into the air as he continued to block my strikes. I continued to push him back to the middle of the pit. In the distance I could hear the whoosh of his hat returning to the pit. I used a gush of wind to knock Kung Lao’s feet out from under him and turned around and used the wind to push his hat to the opposite side of the pit. I jumped into a stance ready to continue fighting Kung Lao, but he just laid in the sand on his elbows looking up at me with a smile.

“You have really improved since you came here,” he complimented. 

“Seems like a flawless victory to me,” I said with a smile as I looked down at Kung Lao.

Kung Lao continued to smile back at me. “Maybe I let you win this time.”

“If that helps you sleep at night, Kung Lao.” I extended my hand to help him up. He grabbed my hand and used it to help himself up. He continued to hold onto my hand. “Lao, you can let go of my hand now.”

He quickly pulled his hand away from mine. “Sorry, (Y/N).”

“Well, it’s getting pretty late. I’m going to call it a night. Goodnight, Kung Lao.” 

“Goodnight, (Y/N). Be prepared to lose when we spar again tomorrow.”

“I will definitely be prepared to win!” I called over my shoulder.

The next morning, I was helping in the infirmary before training began. Since I worked in the medical field before I was found by Liu Kang and Kung Lao, Raiden thought it would be a good idea for me to help here every morning. I was assisting one of the monks with his broken wrist, when I heard a slight knock on the door.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” a familiar voice greeted.

“Good morning, Kung Lao,” I greeted as I continued helping the monk. “What brings you here?”

“I knew you’d be here and just thought I’d come by and bring you something.”

“Sorry, can it wait until later. I’m kind of busy helping Li Wei right now.”

“Oh, um, yeah it can wait,” he said, sounding disappointed. “I guess I’ll come back when you finish here.”

“Okay, Lao. I’ll come find you later.”

I heard him leave the room, so I continued working with Li Wei. I had finished tending to him about fifteen minutes later. I started cleaning up the mess I had made, when something red caught my eye. I picked the object up off the ground, realizing it was a flower petal. 

“Hmm, I wonder where this came from,” I said to myself. I set the petal aside and finished cleaning up the room.

Training time for today had finally come. When I got to the fight pit, I only saw Liu Kang, who was meditating on one of the large rocks.

“Hey, Liu!” I greeted.

“Hi, (Y/N)!” He greeted in return while still holding his prayer beads. 

“No Kung Lao yet?”

“I think he’s out doing an errand for Lord Raiden.”

“Oh, well then it looks like it’ll just be the two of us for today?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, then I guess we should go ahead and get started.”

Liu Kang and I began sparring. Fighting with Liu Kang was completely different from fighting with Kung Lao. Kung Lao’s fighting style was confident and aggressive; Liu Kang’s fighting style was patient and calm. It was beneficial for me to fight both of them since their styles were on opposite ends of the spectrum. Liu Kang and I remained pretty evenly matched as we used our arcanas against one another. I would dodge his flames and retaliate with a gust of wind that caused sand to block his sight or prevent him from moving any closer. We fought for what felt like hours. Liu Kang had managed to get the edge on me and use my arcana against me. I used a lot of energy to cause a large wind to blow towards him, but he jumped along the wall of the pit and avoided the wind, so it bounced off the wall and came directly at me. The heavy wind knocked me over. Liu Kang threw a few flames in my direction to keep me from getting up.

I raised my hands, “Okay, Liu, I surrender.”

Liu Kang extended his hand to help me up from the ground. “Good job today, (Y/N). You are doing well controlling your arcana. We can still make adjustments to your technique, but I can see you really are improving.”

“Thanks, Liu. I guess sparring with Kung Lao has its benefits.”

“You’ve shown great improvement since we last sparred.”

A smile crossed my face. “Thank you, Liu Kang. I appreciate all the help you’ve given me.” I went in for a hug. Liu Kang smiled back and returned the hug.

A cough came from near us. We pulled away from one another and looked at the entrance of the fight pit. Kung Lao stood there with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“Did I miss today’s sparring?” Kung Lao asked as he stepped into the fight pit. I could hear disappointment in his tone.

“Yeah, we just finished actually,” I replied as I awkwardly looked at Liu Kang.

“How did it go?”

“(Y/N) has shown a lot of improvement in using her arcana,” Liu Kang responded as he smiled in my direction. Kung Lao just nodded in response. 

We all stood in silence for a good three minutes before Lou Kang decided to break it.

“I should probably go speak with Lord Raiden about (Y/N)’s progress.” He awkwardly waved as he walked out of the fight pit.

Kung Lao and I sat in silence for another minute or two.

“What are the flowers for?” I asked to break the tensions.

“Oh, um, they’re for you.” He held them out for me to grab. 

I smelled and admired the red lilies. “Thank you, Kung Lao! How did you know I liked lilies?” 

I saw a slight blush appear on his face. “I heard you admiring some of the flowers in the temple.”

“I really appreciate these flowers, Kung Lao.” I smelled the flowers again.

“Actually, I had something to tell you, (Y/N).”

“Yeah?”

“I really like you, (Y/N), and I would like to get to know you more.”

I moved closer to him and kissed his cheek. “I would like that, Kung Lao.”

His signature smirk appeared on his face. “I guess that’s all I had to do. Here I thought letting you win sparring matches would do the job.”

I rolled my eyes as I walked away from the fight pit smiling and smelling my beautiful flowers.

[ren-c-leyn]

Happy STS, Ren^^ I was wondering since you rewrite your chapters as form of editing/reworking, how much does the first version change after the rewrite? What changes the most? @writingonesdreams

So, how much a version changes from the original, and what changes, varies a lot from story to story and chapter to chapter. I have some that are super simple fixes that stay pretty true to the original, I have some that were more like writing a brand new story altogether, and on rare occasions I get some that fallen somewhere in between. So, I don't really have a general answer for you, but I have some specific examples of both of the extreme ends of the spectrum I've encountered here under the cut for you if you're interested.

For example, The Shackles of Time has, usually, been a series of simple fixes. It stays pretty close to the rough drafts I've written. There are some noticeable changes, though. Descriptions tend to be more vivid in the published versions, I've done some fixing for consistency sake, Zephyr made a much bigger appearance in his and Glenn's introduction in the rewrite, some hits as to The Time Keeper's identity and other plot hooks have been pulled out or reworked to slow down those timelines, clunky phrases have been reworked, some conversations changed around, that sort of thing. No big arcs or subplot changes, though.

On the other end of my rewriting spectrum is The Plight of a Sparrow, where every new draft has been a massive undertaking. Book 1's second draft was perhaps the easiest, even though I completely changed the POV from third person to first person and thus had to filter the entire story through Sparrow's POV which changed a lot of how characters and facts got presented, as well as the general mood of the scenes, to say nothing about the language used. And these are all factors I'm still taking into account as I'm making up my current set of editing notes. Thankfully, the general arcs and plot didn't change.

Book 2 was at the very extreme end of my rewrite experience, in that all 4 drafts feel more like completely different stories than drafts of the same one. I think part of it was a combination of my writing style was going through changes, my writing method was also still being worked out, and my understanding of the story wasn't what it is now. After I figured out my writing method and finished solidifying the background plot of the series, I got my current draft which is the first one I'm happy with, and I'm glad I stuck with it to this point.

But before that, I had all kinds of fun (sarcasm intended) changes from draft to draft including: Characters added, removed, killed, brought back to life, had their arcs changed dramatically, subplots cut, added, reworked, and more added based on those cuts and reworks, major plot changes, in addition to my usual consistency edits. I couldn't even bring myself to read through more than half of one of the drafts, it was so, so bad and I usually enjoy rereading my own work. It wasn't fun, but it was all necessary to getting it to where it is now. Without those failed drafts and changes, I wouldn't have gained the experience and knowledge that I needed to finish it and lay down the groundwork for the rest of the series. But it also took a lot out of me which is why I took so long to loop back around to The Plight of a Sparrow.

Thanks for stopping by, dreams. If you have more questions about my method, stop by anytime. I hope you have a lovely day/evening.

[bettsfic]

Hello i hope you are doing well! I was just wondering if you had any advice re: writing kissing/sex/etc scenes effectively without making it sound super clinical and "insert tab x into slot y"? I know there's a balance to be struck between writing out all the physical bits vs what your audience actually needs to get the gist of the scene, and you do it so well in your writing.

sorry for the delay answering this! first i’d like to direct you to @star-sky-earth‘s tips for good sex writing. truly, she is the master of smut, and her breakdown is better than anything i can tell you. 

here are some big-picture thoughts i have about sex writing, in no particular order:

recently i’ve been asking myself of the purpose and function of sex scenes. when i started writing, every sex scene de facto had to be pornographic, with the intention of reader arousal. over the last several years i’ve really stepped down from that idea, because most of the time i’m writing sex scenes to 

unveil character 

increase or release romantic/sexual tension

explore some facet of sexual identity and intimacy.

with that in mind, i haven’t necessarily been artfully describing throbbing cocks or slick folds lately. i’m more interested in the lead-up and consequences of a sexual interaction between characters. i’ve been practicing what i call the gloss-over and fade-to-black, where i either summarize the scene or skip it entirely. it felt a little bit like a self-betrayal the first time i did it, because i always like to read sex scenes even if i’m not reading them as porn. i’ve been playing with a “less is more” approach to sex. 

in original writing, particularly literary writing, i think smut can sometimes be a hard sell (see: taking years to publish my short stories, which are all very, uh, porny). i had to practice writing sex as exactly how you put it, insert tab x into slot y. i think there’s something to be said for sex writing that is the opposite of pornographic, but also isn’t cringe, you know? like writing sex that is an honest and loving portrayal of the act. sometimes i think that’s hotter than throbbing cocks and slick folds. by that i mean, keeping the sex scene exactly the same sort of narration as the rest of the story, just another thing that happens in a greater conflict (pwp notwithstanding). 

in a romance, sex or the first kiss is the highest-stakes moment. it’s the scene where characters are the most vulnerable. the greatest stakes most stories are capable of are creation and destruction. creation being sex, in either a literal baby-making way, or a metaphorical “creating a relationship together” kind of way. destruction being, of course, death. romances and comedies tend to end in creation; tragedies in destruction. so the first kiss, the first time having sex, and the wedding are all narratively emblematic of one of the greatest possible stakes. death and failure fall at the opposite end of the spectrum.

so, with all that said, i think sex writing very much comes down to the sentence-level construction. here are some smaller-scale thoughts:

in terms of genitalia epithets, personally i’m not fond of any words other than cock, cunt, and clit, with the occasional dick thrown in. i don’t mind other epithets when i read, but i just don’t like them for my own writing. let’s use “cock” as an example. “cock” is a noun, which means it’s either the subject or object of a sentence, which in turn means it’s the thing doing the action or receiving the action (pun, sorry). as the subject, it would be “his cock throbbed.” as the object, it would be, “he touched his cock.” navigating the naming of genitalia is i think one of the hardest (sorry) thing about porn writing. i try to use “cock” et al very sparingly, because when it comes up (sorry) it’s more jarring/surprising. that means i have to construct sentences around nouns which, as you might imagine, is difficult. often, when cock is the object, i’ll refer to it as “himself” instead, which i’m sure has a fancy rhetorical term i can’t think of right now (update: metonym. it’s called a metonym). (and i’m sure some linguist or rhetorician has probably written a whole paper on how problematic it is to refer to genitalia as one’s entire person). for example, “he stroked himself.” out of porn context, you get a very ambiguous image. one can stroke any part of one’s body. however in context, even though it’s not directly stated, we can assume he is, in fact, jerking it. 

generally speaking, in non-porn narration, i’m not fond of adjectives. again, i’m speaking to my own style here, and not prescribing it for others. but it’s taken me a lot of time and thinking to figure out how to construct my own writing style and i made the executive decision to use adjectives somewhat minimally (explaining why is probably a separate post). however, when it comes to sex scenes, i let myself use them a lot, as a treat. adjectives can concisely develop and complicate images. “cock” doesn’t tell me much about what image to conjure. “red, swollen cock wet at the tip” tells me a whole lot about what said cock looks like. here, red and swollen are adjectives and “wet at the tip” is an adjectival phrase. developing images is key to an arousing sex scene. imagery establishes physical response without resorting to “it felt good.” there’s nothing wrong with “it felt good” but if you’re trying to get your reader off, “red, swollen cock wet at the tip” is going to do a better job of it.

now to verbs. verbs are my favorite because they neatly package (sorry) action and imagery together. the word “thrust” conjures a different image than “grind.” both, however, push the scene along. once you establish that the fuckening is happening, you don’t really have to do much else. when you watch porn proper, you get however many minutes of said thrusting, and that’s what, for some people, is alluring. however, in writing, you can’t really write that exactly as it happens. it would be “he thrust. he pulled out. he thrust. he pulled out.” and nobody wants to read that. presumably. maybe someone would dig that, idk.

so instead of “he thrust x100″ or whatever, you use verbs to notate changes in the scene. on a big scale, it would involve changing position. on a smaller scale, it might be, colloquially speaking, “hit the spot that made him see stars.” each change, or verb, is usually increasing the tension to lead to the (literal) climax of the scene. the number and scale of the changes dictates the explicitness and pacing of the scene. the bigger the change in a single verb, the less explicit and shorter your scene will be; the smaller the verbs, the longer and more explicit it becomes. for example, “he got undressed” is different than describing an entire paragraph of removing each article of clothing. “she came” is different than describing each wave of orgasm, etc. which you choose depends entirely on, as i mentioned earlier, the purpose and function of the scene. 

okay so that’s enough about the nitty gritty of sex writing. i’d be remiss to spend so much time theorizing about sentence-level construction without giving you an activity or exercise as practice. so here’s how you might start out writing a sex scene if you’re totally lost. please note, this is not a rule, or even a guideline. it’s an experiment to help you get words on a page so you can revise it into something better.

try out a paragraph with a sentence of each of the following, in this order:

action: character A does something to character B 

reaction: character B reacts (moan, crying out, etc.)

image: dependent on what POV character is seeing, but the point is to pause in the action to describe something

repeat

if you stick to this too closely, you’ll definitely sound clinical, but also if you keep this pattern in mind, at least you’ll get a scene down. when you go to revise, you can move things around, throw in some dialogue, and most importantly, internal narration. internal narration during the sex scene is the key to moving forward whatever the actual plot of the story is (if applicable). 

god i hope this makes sense. if it doesn’t, feel free to drop back in and ask for clarification. anyway, happy porning! 

[aenariasbookshelf]

WandaVision, episode 7

Guess who’s got terrible anxiety-related insomnia lately that means she was awake at 4 am to watch the latest episode of WandaVision right away?

This gal.

So...spoilers ahoy.

This is your warning - here be spoilers for the episode.

This post will be tagged appropriately, so if you have spoilers anywhere in your blacklist it should snag this post.

Is that enough warning for spoilers?

Okay, here we go.

**********

In which we get a lot of (unsurprising) answers, and are now winding up for the climax of the entire show.

Are we at all surprised that SWORD gets turned into a circus?  I’m not, because that whole agency is a freakin’ clown car at this point, and Hayward is the chief clown.  And we have confirmation now that Hayward is all about getting Vision back and weaponizing him.  Which, yeah, we figured, but confirmation.  Hayward’s a dick, but not the ultimate bad guy.

That’s the theme of this episode: Confirmation. 

Mah baby Darcy Lewis is still awesome, shaking off her chains and giving that transformed SWORD agent the punch he so rightly deserves. *chef’s kiss*  Aside from that, she’s a little bit Miss Exposition in this episode and not much else, so I’m hoping we’ll see some more goodness from her in the next two episodes.  She’s still in the Hex, and I have to think she’s going to have more of a role to play yet.

Vision: brain scrambled, yet still trying to figure out what the hell’s going on.  Just about done with everyone’s shit and wants his wife back.  I’m thinking this will also come in handy in the next episode too.

Monica freakin’ Rambeau. I LOVE YOU. Smart and stubborn and taking all of those good qualities from the people who raised you and turning you into something even more amazing than you were before.  All this to say that YES, we are getting Photon, or Spectrum, or whatever name you’re going by in this show and I cannot wait to see you really light it up.  Also, nice touch with the undersuit from the SWORD space suit - it bears a strong, strong resemblance to her superhero gear from the comics.  I admit, I squeed.

Also, and this may be a little selfish of me, I’m kind of glad that Monica’s contacts were just rogue SWORD agents and not a member of the Fantastic Four being introduced early.  While it would have been fantastic (pardon the pun) it’ll let Marvel give them the epic entrance that they deserve. Also, and this is totally a me thing, I have some issues with the popular actors being tossed around to play Reed Richards, so I’m glad I could put that disappointment off for a little longer.

Wanda, listen to Monica.  You’re not the villain here, despite what Hayward wants you to think.  I do like that she’s kind of suffering from an almost magic hangover here - the expansion of the Hex in the last episode really knocked it out of her, and I’m glad we’re seeing the results of that.  Both in Wanda’s tiredness reflected in the 2000s style sitcom (I was totally reminded of The Office here, was anyone else?) and the fact that her grip on the Hex is slipping and going back and forth in time.

Huh, okay, we’ve spotted Dottie and the Mailman again. *makes notes*  Still not sure of their importance, but they were definitely focused on during that scene between Monica and Wanda, so I’m watching them.

And, finally, in the least surprising revelation this episode had for us, Agnes is indeed Agatha Harkness and has had a hand in manipulating this entire thing.  Given that this twist has been predicted since before the show was even airing, the switch to Agatha having her own theme song at the end of the episode (because this is her show now, you know) was more amusing than anything else.  That said, it was a great way to do a quick recap of all of the episodes and give us flashes of what manipulative fuckery she was doing behind the scenes without wasting time on an exposition dump that could just drag on.  Fake!Pietro?  Totally on her.  I’m guessing that messed up Stork is also (...maybe the stork is really a transformed Senor Scratchy?  Idk, the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet so this theory isn’t fully fleshed out).  And, given that she made Billy and Tommy disappear into parts that we haven’t discovered yet, I’d be surprised if this whole thing isn’t to use those boys to her own ends (or Mephisto’s, supposedly.  I’m not sure if Agnes is the big bad here, or if she’s reporting to someone else).

Wanda, my darling, your rage and your grief is powerful, but so is your love for what’s yours.  Remember that, because that’s what’s going to help you out of this mess.

Finally - ooooh, post (mid) credits scene!  We’ve hit the right time in the television timeline for this to make sense too. :D

Is it next Friday yet?

[solactier]

This one’s for you @heytherestilinski

This is going to be quite the mixture of emotions, so I apologise in advance if my expression of said feelings is all over the place, but I simply must talk about the golden fanfiction that is Heat Waves and how it has swayed my soul with sounds of sweet bells.

To start, I should say, I’ve been in love with writing and reading for as long as I can remember. The ability to weave an entire world with mere threads of words is fascinating to me, always has been. I’ve taken in quite the number of books and fanfictions throughout my period of living, and considering so, I can confidently say:

Dakota’s writing is a force to be reckoned with.

But the force I speak of is the kind that is emitted from ember sunrises that one witnesses during moments between summer and autumn. They hold a certain glow that keeps a person sat there, for incessant hours, in pursuit of a special warmth that will leave them settled and content.

I have never been captured and pulled in by a descriptive style more than I was with Dakota’s, and I say this having read a multitude of her work. This author is admirable in a multitude of ways, and I’m genuinely excited for anything and everything they will produce in the upcoming future. 

I could ramble for a good bout of time about many of Dakota’s works, but that would result in a document longer than Dream’s 19 page rebuttal, so let’s focus on one (for now).

Heat Waves

Two words that hold a grand amount of weight and cause hearts to shift.

I have a lot to say about this prosperous and glorious story, but at the same time I don’t because upon finishing a chapter, be it one of the first or the last, I am rendered speechless. My words of explanation and admiration morph into vibrations of zeal flowing through my veins as I absorb beautiful descriptions and powerful dialogue.

Heat Waves chapters aren’t ones I find myself totally rereading often, and here’s why:

When reaching the end of whatever chapter and scrolling through the final notes, I am left satisfied, completely. Dakota’s style is captivating in a way that allows me to read their sentences and phrases carefully and attentively, making sure the picture painted in my mind is as accurate as possible. I will encounter a certain, strong line and read it again, and again, and again before continuing on as to ensure I consume the sentiment being served, and mind you, it was served.

I came here at first expecting the usual or normal plate-size of feelings, but oh was I wrong, I was quenched, fully fed, if you will lol.

The reason for that is this narrative is not your typical fanfic troupe.

Heat Waves is a story about messy, unpredictable love, and that’s what makes it as enthralling as it is. It is poetic as it is real.

It’s thrilling lust turned to excruciating yet oh so warm love.

Dream misses and wants to hold onto George’s presence regardless of the pain it causes him, of the internal conflicts that have suddenly surfaced, of the changes he must face and make, of the haunting dreams. 

Even if George’s actuality distresses and brings Dream affectionate confusion, he will still reach for him. He will hurt and hurt and hurt in order to grasp the heat he’s grown a little too addicted to because he prefers when George is around, rather than when he isn’t. 

Dream’s mind spirals and his feelings scatter over interactions due to him knowing George very well, yet not knowing him at all. The two could flirt and exchange the most ridiculous of dialogue and nothing would change, and that’s where a certain dilemma is contrived: How much of this is real? What is considered serious among the numerous jokes him and George make? How far is he allowed to go? All of these questions tug at the curves of Dream’s brain and heart, and he is unsure about much, but despite that, he finds himself thinking all about George, during late nights, in the middle of June. 

Dream undergoes a series of emotional disputes over whatever the fuck is happening between himself and George, and that, my friends, is the heartache that comes from truly having feelings for someone and wanting their every speckle. Of course, such strong desires can sometimes be unhealthy. Dream, at one point, is a bad friend to Sapnap (whom we all must agree to stan because damn sir your back must be hurting from carrying your two idiot friends’ passionate but disordered baggage. a king) by ignoring his calls and messages due to being caught up, tied, and trapped in the strings of yearning. This one guy is doing so much damage to Dream, but he’s fallen too far down the pit of affection to care, in fact, he luxuriates in it.

(I also honestly do not blame Dream for playing the song on loop, because same, really does make you feel things)

Dream loves George. He loves George so much that the simplest of phrases and statements set his nerves ablaze and sparks his soul with hope.

It’s so painful but so fucking invigorating.

Which is why, at one point or another, he must learn to let go, not completely, but enough to stop the analysing and obsessing and sweating and dreaming, and that’s what’s so enticing about this tale, that among the reaching, there must be patience in order to reach something stable. Dream has been going insane for far too long, pouring his heart out to the one he so desires, but with such want comes uncertainty and surprises. Who the hell would’ve thought George had feelings for Dream for a good while before reeling himself in, only for his emotions to be stimulated with affection all too unexpectedly.

and who would’ve foreseen the slap of pure angst that were chapters 9 and 10, George’s hopeful rejection.

We read the two flirt, smile and laugh until their chests ached, connect, talk and call for hours, send fucking snapchats to eachother, telling sentimental stories, and much more.

All for Dream to crumble, piece by piece, until he is on the floor and crying over missing a chance he’s been so desperately trying to take. After what felt like a blooming relationship, Dream is seen breaking.

Because George wasn’t ready.

Because George was hit by a sudden wave of emotion that is so confusing and overwhelming and what the fuck Dream.

Yet, not all has been lost. The blazing fire of yearning may have been rained on, but it has not gone out.

Because it’s not a no, it’s a not yet.

And I cannot tell you the power such a statement holds. It was such a simple phrase, yet it shook my core as it delivers something raw, something hopeful, something to look forward to and have you inhaling a breath of longing because embers are still sparking and maybe, maybe, that chance isn’t completely out of Dream’s reach.

He just has to work on listening, bettering himself, healing and reaching a point of self-contentment. A point where he knows: he’s right for George, he’s enough for George. And the same goes for the latter.

Everything is so messy and destructive and confusing, yet they still reach.

And that, that, is such a raw form of love that it left my chest tight. They both want to be the best for eachother. They want to work and try for eachother despite the pain it may bring. They wait, and with their patience comes progression, which slowly but surely, will turn into comfort.

And to have the ability to articulate and describe such a journey is insane in every sense of the world. This story takes your collection of emotions and rattles it, making you feel so much at once that when ending a reading session, you release a satisfactory breath.

It didn’t end with attained love, or accepting confessions, or a romantic moment during the visit, or promises of kisses, or whatever cliche closing you could think of.

It ended with two friends saying “see you soon”

And that was perfect.

Perfect enough leave me, the reader, content and in awe. Because this is a slow and difficult love, one that will simply need time, as time is what will heal.

I couldn’t have asked for a better ending. Dakota is truly an inspiration.

Thank you, for creating and sharing such a masterpiece of a story, and having your readers go through the entire spectrum of emotions.

I cannot wait for Helium.

:)