#this was fun!! ive never drawn in this kind of style really before

[preggomancer]

You are challenged by Expectant Couple Tulip & Alan!

someone commented that they looked like a duo team in p*kemon and i was inspired :D

(Tulip: she/her | Alan: he/him)

[daftpatience]

Hi, I used to draw a lot but I've not drawn/created for a long time now, any tips to get back into it?

Or rather the whole thing about making art for yourself, I used to get a lot of attention for being good at art from other ppl and I'm not sure how to connect it back to myself again

I'm also contending with the Autism "It needs to be done in this way" and the ADHD "I can't focus for shit"

Also please don't worry if you don't know what to say, I'm just trying to get a variety of opinions to try and untangle my brain

Thank you in advance 💕

i think a good way to get back into creating *for yourself* whether its to come out of a dry spell or just to get back to creating things that you like, is what i call 'backtracking' (bearing in mind that my particular methods may only work for me! im lucky ive never struggled with focus when it comes to drawing things, but maybe some of these things will help as my main goal when drawing is to entertain myself!)

also before i move on this i think is valuable: you gotta draw things that you aren't gonna post sometimes. it's fun and fulfilling to make art for an audience, and wanting attention is not shameful (ITS HUMAN!) but also we live in panopticon times and i think its good to train your "i am alone doing something for myself and no one has to see it" muscles.

backtracking is a couple different things:

look back to when you were really young. what kinds of drawings were the most fun to do? what did you spend time on or get really into? for me, this was a few things! tracing cartoons, drawing up elaborate scenes of lots of little creatures doing a thing, and designing little characters as paper dolls and making their houses and little furniture and accessories and such to cut out and play with. also getting paint all over my hands (i still paint my whole hand whenever im done doing something with acrylics before i wash up! its stimming)! backtracking here is when you try to take those things and make use of them now. try to find that old joy and use it in a way that makes you happy today, even if it's something small or silly or embarrassing. it can really help you rediscover what parts of art make YOU happy!

if you're regularly drawing and in a slump, backtracking for me is stepping back and doing either more exercises and practising the things you feel like you already know how to draw (ie. studying angles of the face or pulling up imgs of rooms on pinterest to see how normal people arrange furniture etc.), or simplifying your drawings to a level that feels more relaxing and less stressful. (ie. chibis instead of more detailed characters etc.) i find i kind of fall back to chibis when i feel lost, and then sort of rebuild from there. its fun to let my style change as i grow!

ALSO! im telling your autism this for your adhd's sake (this is useful for anyone i think): if there is a part of art that you do not enjoy doing or find boring but you feel it is an important or necessary step in the process? the secret is it isnt! art is made up. if you hate lining, dont do it! if youre a digital artist and get caught up picking a brush every time because you feel like you need the perfect one? switch to mspaint for a bit to get the nerves out. it can be really freeing!

art is for having fun and fulfilling our need to create. the rules are all made up and not real. perfectionism is the little death that something something i forget. yeah

[gorgynei]

any tips on drawing werewolves? mine never seems to come out quite right

hmm well there are a LOT of different ways to draw werewolves. ive found that a lot of the fun of drawing them is finding your own way!

like, here are various werewolves ive drawn:

theyre all Very different stylistically and anatomically, so its hard to give advice unless you have like, a specific style of werewolf in mind.

my best advice i guess is to study regular wolf and regular human anatomy and then fuck around with it. know the rules before your break them, that kind of thing. you can also look at werewolves in movies (try to look for the props/effects/costumes in bts content if you want a really good look at them) because they make really good drawing references

idk if that helps but ! mostly just have fun with it until it looks right to you!

[virusgeist]

Hi friend I rlly love ur art!!! I dont think I'm v good since I don't have much time to devote to drawing these days but I rlly rlly want to try making comics anyway even tho ive never rlly drawn comics before. Do u have any advice for starting out? <3

Hmm... I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask since I draw for fun and not professionally- but from my all around drawing experience;

I know when I started out drawing I took inspiration from my favorite artists or cartoons and incorporated it into my own art in my own way. Like my favorite things about their art styles or way they draw things I want to draw it like that too!

Once I developed an art style of my own I made my own kind of anatomy that fit my style too?? Instead of like real life anatomy- which I felt my simplified version of anatomy fit my art style better. I achieved this through a lot of sketching out and practicing which shapes I liked the best. Drawing real life anatomy can probably still help improve posing and how easy it is to capture it in the style your going for though. Also really good to look at references. It's not cheating I promise haha.

Also learning recently that just having fun is my main point when I draw since I'm a hobby artist. If I start focusing on how I wish it looked or perfection I get upset and start to hate drawing and making art. In all reality if you hate it and hate your art being all too self critical about it but you still decide to draw regardless. I recommend posting it i GUARANTEE it will vibe with someone. Someone will love it! Don't stop making art if that's what you really want to do.

Just have fun with it fr fr. Experiment with stuff and see what you like best and what's most comfortable for you!

For the comic making I'm not so sure. I don't make too many comics... definitely not the best person to ask there haha! Might look at some other comics and study how they draw each of the panels.

However I do make little animatic things which can be like a comic I suppose... and with those I always sketch out the whole thing before adding little details.

Aaaa sorry idk if any of this helps.. but I wish you luck on your comic making in the future!

/__\

[purpletyrant]

how long did it take you to plan out kittyquest and the earth c lore? it's a really well thought out great adventure and as an aspiring fanventure creator i am curious about how long it took to get everything figured out

you might be disappointed to learn that i rushed into KQ with nary an outline to be found

i had no intention of fleshing it out into comic form and was content with faux-panels until i decide to "unless...?" myself, as i always do time and time again. from there i decided to base it purely off of suggestions (lol) and, at the threat of there being no centralized plot, thought back on the cult of the witch, which i had introduced as a gag in the pilot light, pale rapture trilogy. from there i started to build up where the plot was going to go, and several months into the adventure i formally sat down and wrote a few pages outlining roughly where the rest of the comic was headed, later splitting into sections so i would always know what i would be addressing in a given update. i could hardly fathom going back to the days of NOT knowing what i was about to be sitting down to write/draw

this is not the first time ive mentioned this, but i accidentally emulated hussie in that ramona wasnt planned from the start, and i was actually kind of scared to introduce her. i simply repurposed an adult earth c fantroll id drawn a single time and decided, you know what, this might shake things up a bit. and im glad i did that. ive strayed from the outline a few times, adding things along the way. my great, GREAT, *GREAT* hope is that it does not all fall flat in the end. a lot of people still expect KQ to be a sburb adventure, which it is very explicitly tagged as not being. KQ at its heart is something self-contained (this might age poorly) and content to tell a small-scale, relatively low stakes story, and ive never pretended that its going to be some grand epic adventure like others out there. knowing the scope of your story is important because it helps maintain a consistent mood and generally keeps you grounded. i think its okay if you dont have an end in mind, but i would recommend thinking about how youre going to get there so that things dont feel rushed, like what happened with homestuck... which i think is an example of someone spending so much time thinking about the ending that it kind of ends up being coughed up in your lap

as for earth c lore, the text portion of the field guide took maybe a couple weeks to write, though i did add and edit some text pretty recently before its release. worldbuilding is singlehandedly the most rewarding and fun part of working on KQ, i love thinking about how mundane daily life works there which really lends itself to being able to freely write pages upon pages of expository text without too much writers block. i could talk about it for hours. if you have already found an idea that youre super excited about, just write and draw as much stuff for it as you can stand to. hell, just notebook doodles and jotting stuff down in the notes app will do. it will help you have something to go off of when you actually get cracking on writing your outlines

generally i dont think theres a wrong or right way to go about making an mspfa style adventure, i know a lot of the big ones have multiple writers and artists, but im just one random guy doing this shit in my office when i get home from work. think about how much time, both short- and long-term that youre willing to commit. is it just a fun thing you want to do when you have free time? thats great! are you committed to a long form story that might take you multiple years to complete? maybe write an outline or several, ask a friend if they can beta read or help you out a little. i didnt have a plan when i started, and i still sort of feel nagged by that as KQ begins to enter its twilight years, er, twilight updates. but one mans lack of planning is another mans freedom to write whatever the hell they want

i hope this was even halfway helpful, a lot of this was probably just rambling. good luck with your stories! :)

[qwertyfingers]

WOO CONGRATS ON THE TEET YEET!!! also also, your poetry is beautiful. can i ask how you got started?

thank u!!! apologies for how long this answer got i’m waffling

so i feel like the start of my answer is kind of unhelpful because i really just. started writing? no one encouraged me or helped me or anything i really just ran with it on my own. a lot of how i write is really just how i think - the metaphors and similes and weird comparisons come very naturally to me. i have no idea if this is how other writers feel?? but i can’t give any advice on how to develop that beyond just. writing a lot.

i’ve find poetry to be really good emotional outlet, so a lot of what i write about is very repetitive in terms of themes - a lot of mentions of my dad and my stepdad, compulsions, teeth and while i don’t think any of what i wrote back then was very good or worth sharing it did give me a lot of practice in kind of. building a writing headspace?

i can’t really point to any specific inspirations early on because i really didn’t read very much. most of my favourite poems when i was younger were very structured and used a lot of rhyme - i really enjoyed war poetry when we studied it in high school for example - but i’ve always written pretty loosely, a lot of enjambment and playing around with formatting. i felt very drawn to mary oliver and richard siken when i discovered them in my mid-late teens (although i defintiely think that i understand them better rereading them now as an adult). 

i’ve written many different styles of poem, but i really only have two style of writing behaviour: either i write total stream-of-consciousness and don’t edit it until i’ve totally run out of things to say - pompeii, reimagined from this collection was written this way, as was FOIL - or i write very conscious of the formatting from the start - some examples of this are unholied, ajovy and my father thinks i should learn how to code. sometimes there’s a crossover like in inelegant fingers but typically its one or the other.

the city i live in now has a pretty big ~poetry scene~ with several regular live readings, even more random events throughout the year, and people regularly coming from out of town to read here. i hiiiiighly recommend going to readings if you live somewhere that you can get to them because it can expose you to a really wide range of writers, from first-timers to people with long publishing histories. being involved in that scene really taught me that there’s really no hierarchy of talent, that there are fantastic writers at every ~skill level~. and more than anything, that it’s possible to hate a poem or poet and still get a lot out of their work. i’ve made a lot of friends through going to and helping to host events too :) 

some recommendations for writing that i personally find useful:

spend a lot of time thinking about writing! when i’m out walking, even when i’m getting groceries, i’m spinning thoughts around my head about writing. i frequently think up what i think of as the ‘headline’ of a poem when i’m busy doing something else. write that shit down! keep a notebook or note on your phone and write them down. 

relatedly: absolutely cannibalise your old poems. if you’ve got a piece you don’t like any more, or that you could never finish but you’re attached to it, steal your favourite lines and work them into soemthing else, or challenge yourself to rewrite that poem in a new style or format

i keep a word doc full of lines and phrases i liked that i couldn’t fit into anything or that weren’t developed enough that i go back to and take things from. sometimes it’s just a handful of words - ‘ transposing neuroses onto neurons’ sat in that doc for months before i used it - and sometimes its entire lines or even stanzas. i also paste in here things i deleted from existing pieces during editing - sometimes you like something but just not in its current setting yknow

give yourself writing challenges! there are allllll kinds of things you can challenge yourself to do. find a photograph you like, and try to write the feeling it gives you, or write about the content of it, or from the perspective of the person taking the picture. pick an album or song and listen to it on repeat and write. go to different places and see if your writing feels different there. write a poem first thing in the morning or on your lunch break or write before you go to bed. write when you feel really happy, or scared, or angry or tired. write about someone you love, or someone you really hate. write using found-language - blackout poetry is one version, but you can also cut words out and collage them. a friend of mine wrote an amazing poem using ads on gumtree. i like to hit random page on wikipedia and challenge myself to write using the words on that page or about the content of it. i dont find timed challenges helpful but some people do. experiment! ask your friends for prompts! if you’ve friends who also write poetry, give eachother challenges and give eachother feedback

also, if you’ve got friends who write, absolutely ask for their input on a piee if you get stuck. my friend tasha frequently helps me with my grammar and punctuation to improve clarity and many more people have helped me with ideas, promts, challenges and encouragement :)

my personal favourite: write about fiction! a lot of my favourite of my own poems were about this. ;kodos in error - which desperately needs reworking but that i’m nevertheless very proud of - was written about the tarsus iv storyline in the original star trek. the only overt reference to it’s origin is the name kodos in the title - and it’s very much about myself too - but ultimately the entire time i wrote it i was thinking about that plot. i’ve also written about fortnite and the expanse  

play around with what you want from a poem. sometimes it’s emotional, sometimes it’s all about the sound and the feel of it in your mouth, sometimes it’s about imagery and giving the reader a clear picture of something. Sometimes you want to do something fun with the formatting, or make it short and snappy or long and lilting. Try not to get stuck in one type of poem. 

personally unless i’m writing for a specific thing - like a reading of to submit to a specific journal - i never think about a reader until i’ve finished at least the first draft. i’m not a professional; i share the things i like but ultimately i write for myself only. i don’t need to have an audience in mind for anything i write, and i think that helps me. not everyone finds this easier, but i do.

read poetry! read absolutely anything you can get your hands on - even when you don’t like something you can learn from it. poetry foundations 

talk about poetry! i didn’t go to school for creative writing and most of what i learned in HS went totally over my head, but i find talking about poetry i like with friends to be infinitely valuable. discussion will help you find things you didn’t see before, and understand why the things you do like resonate so much, how you can maybe replicate those in your own writing etc.

if you’ve never written before, it is literally never too late to start. just get going! don’t let your inner critic get in the way, just write and write and try not to worry too much about whether its ~good~ until you get more used to writing.  there are a thousnad different ways for a poem to be Good. if you write for emotional release and it works then its good. if you write to get other people to understand how you feel and that comes through, its good. if you just want to make it sound a certain way then its good. 

<3

[herstoryherlegacy]

Expect the unexpected

(Trigger warning - lots of throw ups)

This has never really been my motto. Most things in my life have been expected or I’ve had signs pointed out to me that gives me a hint of what lies ahead. I was not expecting to be in the ER tonight. Actually I was just about to put my makeup on and do a lovely couples photoshoot with my husband when I got the call to come to the ER for possible blood clot in my lungs. Let me back up..

I had been healing from my port placement 3 days ago. Yesterday I was texting Juan updates on how I was feeling. I’m extremely thankful he was so diligent on checking in on me. My main concern was the tightness in my chest, pressure where the port is. I couldn’t take a deep breath. I felt better resting. I had even been doing light housework to stay up and active. Today he checked in again. The chest pressure was better. I could actually take a deep breath with little to no problem. Fast forward to this afternoon. I had went down to my best friend Sam’s salon to get my hair styled for my photoshoot. She’s on the 2nd floor and we took the stairs. My favorite part. I hadn’t exercised since my diagnosis and it’s been killing me. I was so active. Upon reaching the 2nd floor which was not far, I was winded. I text Juan letting him know, and he didn’t respond right away. I sat down, caught my breath, and got my hair done. As soon as I parked at home Juan called. He was consulting his doctor and advised I go in ASAP to an urgent care to be seen. I needed an x-ray, EKG, oxygen levels checked to rule out a possible blood clot in the lungs. Fuck me..

Disappointed to say the least. I walked into my home filled with laughter from my girls and their cousins, everyone gathered at the table for a meal, my in laws were visiting. All I could say was, we have to go to urgent care. I didn’t even kiss my babies goodbye 😕 I said goodbye to them but not thinking I wouldn’t be back tonight didn’t cross my mind. Now I wish I had. I arrived at a local urgent care before closing and the first thing I noticed in the lobby were vases of fake sunflowers. By pure coincidence, I use a sunflower background when I update my stories about my disease. I immediately knew this was God’s way of telling me he was with me and that I would be okay. I went into a room to be evaluated, and guess what kind of shoes the nurse was wearing? I’d never seen these before, but white vans with yellow sunflowers all over. There are no coincidences! However I wasn’t helped and was told to go to the ER.

No one likes to be in the ER, especially not right now. I had labs drawn, and an x-ray which showed proper placement of the port. Luckily Juan was here working and able to be there for my x-ray. He came to see me once more before he left to tell me he was going to communicate with the doctor about my CT and insulin complications. I had mentioned I was waiting for my husband to bring my charger because I was basically on E, and he graciously went to retrieve his charger to give to me. So extremely thankful for that gesture because alone, with no connection to my family in this place, is NOT the business. A charged phone is a precious lifeline so please always keep yours charged! So now..I wait for the CT.

I had been moved all over that ER. First I came to a bed and talked with a nurse. Then another nurse came in demanding she needed the bed. Once I was done I was booted off that bed so fast and into a chair in a hallway. The place was littered with sick people inside and outside rooms. It was so sad and crowded. I do believe I was mixed with both normal sick people and possible covid patients. To say I was nervous is an understatement. Back and forth I went between rooms, chairs, main waiting room, and scans. The longest wait was waiting to have my CT scan. I was in a room with chemo type reclining chairs. This poor girl in front of me was dealing with pain, bad. I felt so sorry for her. She was doing a good job being quiet but her face and body language looked like she was in active labor, though she was not. After watching I assumed she was suffering some sort of abdominal pain. When it was just us two, I didn’t want to make her talk, but I told her that I didn’t know what she was going through but that I was going to cover her in prayer. Her eyes lit up. She said thank you a bunch and I just assured her that I had her taken care of. I prayed with healing words. No matter what situation I’m in, I would never turn down the opportunity to put myself aside and pray for someone else who needed it more. I have failed this test before many times being too shy to pray, but you never know how those simple words of offering someone prayer may help them feel better. I wanted to cry, yeah I was in here for a possible life threatening issue, but I was nowhere as bad off as these people.

So I prayed for her, and eventually it was my turn to go to my CT. I had an IV put in, flushed, and had 3 medications to help me with my scan. One was Benadryl. I was actually glad to have it because I’ll be receiving it in my Pre-chemo cocktail and I wasn’t sure how I would feel on it. Yes it made me woozy immediately, but it was tolerable. Almost enjoyable in the correct setting. Waiting again, and was wheeled over by this super nice guy who eased the stress with good conversation. If you’ve ever done an MRI with contrast..it’s a fucking insane feeling. I laid down, the nurse flushed my IV and added the contrast. She loaded me in and waited a few minutes for it to kick in. I was in the machine for another few minutes and immediately when I was done I felt the warm rush. I’ve previously been warned it makes you feel really warm and almost like you’ve pee’d yourself. Thank god they reminded me because the warm sensation is explosive. It simultaneously felt like hot water was exploding from both my chest outward and my crotch 😂 indeed I clenched my body in case I did pee, but that’s exactly how it felt!!! So odd. Off to wait again for the results. This is where it for torturous. I am SO thankful for my AirPods and this charger. I have a very sensitive trigger to throwing up. Myself, other people, I can’t handle it. I actually did a good job this last week because both my girls got a virus, and I wasn’t second hand nauseous at all, that’s a victory. But in this ER literally 90% of the patients were vomiting 😑 I cranked those air pods to the max to drown out the sound. Closed my eyes. I don’t want what they got. So I’m in the big chair room again, my poor friend comes back in. Still in pain desperate for relief. Then another person, and another until the whole room was filled with us 5 people. 3/5 with vomiting 😕. Poor baby I prayed for got sick first, she was telling a nurse she was getting sick from the pain itself. Then the girl directly next to me. As she was getting her IV meds she started to get sick. It was a constant rush of nurses trying to get those sick bags in time..bless their quickness. I winced and turned to my left as to avoid being there. There wasn’t anywhere I could go where I wasn’t in the direct line of someone getting sick. I was miserable. Benadryl still kicking, I tried to nap, but had to keep my eyes open waiting for my name to be called. Eventually the time came, I was put in a draw chair outside the big chair room and my doctor read me the good news! I had my IV’s taken out and asked if they wanted me to go back into the big chair room (I don’t want to hog the draw chair in case someone needed it) and he said sure, just as I stood up the first poor girl started wrenching and I said “you know what I’ll stay here” and with a laugh the nurse walked back to their station and printed my discharge papers. I was R E L I E V E D. I was as calm in this situation as I needed to be, panicking and stressing weren’t going to help me. Easier said than done, to just not stress, but knowing how much trauma your body goes through WHEN you stress, it just wasn’t going to work in my favor. I came home famished, ate my dinner at 11:30pm, followed by a bag of popcorn, followed by a small serving of ice cream. Then my blood sugars sky rocketed all night 🙃 eh, not a good thing but I will hopefully have that very taken care of soon. Praise God nothing came out of this, each day has its own surprises, not all good, but also not all bad. The day started well with me sharing that my CT showed no cancer anywhere else in my body. This is EXTREMELY good news, and ended with me in the ER. You just never know how things will play out. So hug your kids, tell them you love them, do something fun. Enjoy the day given, because in a flash it could all be taken away ✌🏻

[mrpenguinpants]

Alright, I finally read Reincarnation no Kaben

AFTER MONTHS (it’s probably been a month? My mind doesn’t keep track of the days) I FINALLY CAUGHT UP TO RNK. Ty to Okita anon for the recommendation (*￣3￣)╭💕💕💕 I absolutely loved it. 

After this I’ll start on the other recommendation you gave me. I kept a bit of a log of my reading journey under the read more tag. 

Major spoilers for literally everything in RNK up to ch 53 “Withdrawal”. 

Oh, and I’ll finish answering all my leftover asks and I SHOULD have a fic done by tomorrow. I was so ready to write and then I got up. Now I’m back to bed. 

I’m just gonna write this as a log since I read super super slow and I’m only on ch 7 at the start of writing this but I’m really liking it already. Though to be fair. I love everything okita anon recommends haha. I remember you saying you were simping over Kouu and I haven’t gotten to the part where he appears but I wanted to quickly google what he looked like to prepare myself and I see this:

Well. That’s reassuring. 

I was actually kinda surprised by how many western figures were in the manga since I know there are only like 7? Around 7 western figures that pop up in any anime/manga but seeing people like Albert Fish was kinda surprising but I really liked it. Also, at the end of certain chapters they write little bio’s on them so you get to know more about them was such a nice touch.  I also love that the tradition of making males -> females still stays strong even outside the fate universe hehe.

---

Literally, the next chapter I see him. AHHHHHHHHH. Well maybe not him but his eyeballs. 

This guy lowkey reminds me of the MC’s brother but it’s 99% because he has the same long ponytail. I wouldn’t be surprised if the brother was apart of the the Greats. Honestly, Ein reminds me of those really hard headed girls that are actually really kind on the inside but aren’t good at expressing themselves (maybe because that’s pretty much her character). I also like that Ein doesn’t like males but she’s hiding behind this guy. At least, I’m..99% sure this is Ein. 

I FUCKING KNEW IT. AS SOON AS I SAW HE GOT A THEIF TALENT I COULD FEEL THE SOLO LEVELING VIBES IN ME. HE CAN STEAL TALENTS I FUCKING KNEW IT!!! I’m surprised that Neumann didn’t say anything and  Haito seems to be aware of it.  

Edit: Ah okay, I understand a bit now but it almost seems like Haito is the only one aware of Toya’s second talent.

Edit 2: Okay, as much as I love power hungry MC’s I’m really glad they didn’t make Toya into that. I am such a softie for sympathetic and kind MC’s like these even though it’s been done so many times. I’m really glad this didn’t feel like a rehash. I mean, some points some of the stuff Toya says it does but it’s fine, I don’t mind that. I actually gave a crap about him since I usually prefer the side characters (I UNDERSTAND ANON, I CARE ABOUT KOUU SO MUCH AHHHHH) but HAITO?? AHHHHH. 

---

I like that Izo always has the same hat in every adaptation he’s in lol. Istg, cats are always op. Schrodinger seems so strong and the parallel universes are my absolute shit. Sometimes I think, in one universe I did this and in this universe I’m not. Would I rather stay in this universe or be in the one where I am actually productive. Usually I pick the productive universe and actually work but sometimes I’m a bit of a slacker haha. I think this is my approach to a lot of things in life. But I digress, I don’t wanna get too deep into my life. 

I can sorta sympathize with the sinners. At least the ripper guy to say the least. I love love love unhinged characters that just want to basically destroy the world or at least have fun. But then you find out- wait they are actually sympathetic oh no. That’s how I felt about Djoser in “im the great priest imhotep” (please...i beg...someone read this...I’m so starved). 

As much as character development and rooting for the hero is cool and all, I just want to simp for the crazy “let’s burn the world to the ground” kinda character. I’m also so glad Toya doesn’t automatically become evil and try and steal everyone’s talents because he does seem like a good person and I really don’t see him suddenly switching fields so when he saved (I don’t remember names I’m sorry), the undead solider it was really nice. Proves that he still has his humanity and isn’t strictly relying on the branch of sin. 

It makes sense that he wants to steal talents since he never had one (and it was kinda out of left field when he killed Vlad and we just never addressed that ever again haha) but to see him actually consider his actions and if he actually want’s to steal his teammates talents feels right to me. Poor guy doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends so this is the first time he’s ever seemed to have companionship, aside from Haito, so I really hope he doesn’t attempt to steal their talents. I think I’m thinking of the slime? That time I got reincarnated as a slime manga/anime. Where he’s the pokemon catcher of skills. I thought that was where it was going. 

But I do kinda like how selfish Haito and Toya’s talent stealing relationship is (I mean, later it develops but my first draft of writing this I wasn’t there yet). I’m not sure if selfish or like self-gratitude/pride is the right word but it’s kind of a breath of fresh air. Rather than Haito trying to contain or “help” Toya’s inferiority she’s actually encouraging it and using her own talent for her own...acknowledgement? Er, yeah let’s go with that. 

---

This. This interaction. I love this. Like, genuinely love this. We need more of this. Two people from opposite sides finding some common ground and their fight to the death is less about morals or whose on whose side but for themselves. I love that. This is actually some wholesome stuff. 

Edit: AHHHHH CATCH MY UGLY CRYING IN THE BACK BECAUSE ALL THE “SINNERS” ARE ACTUALLY AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. IM DEAD. YOU’VE KILLED ME. 

---

I KNEW IT! YOU CAN NEVER TRUST THESE KIND OF PEOPLE!! I’m going to slap the whiteboard on this but if I see any “goofy” character I’m immediately sus of them. 

As much as I hate that Hitler is getting drawn as a small child I really like this. I know the whole, oh I killed your friends but I’m letting you go because you express humanity but I’m gonna finish my death with a sympathetic line, can be annoying to people but idk I really liked this. 

Honestly this and the undead soldiers death hit me hard ngl. This manga might not have my favourite art style during some points compared to like main stream manga but it has some really beautiful scenes. 

BOOM CALLED IT, though it’s pretty obvious lol. 

THE PONY TAIL NEVER LIES AND HES DA VINCI IT MAKES SENSE NOW

He looks so cute lol. I like that Seiya has the talent of being talented in everything while Toya has the talent to steal other talents. Seiya can probably only cap his power by his own physical/mental abilities with Toya can pull a solo leveling and go further beyond. Thinking of it like jack of trades vs master of none type deals. Though, I might be thinking too hard on this. I like that this man is actually humble but I really wish there was a tiny bit more to him since we only get this one interaction/backstory but the manga isn’t completed yet. I really hope we get to know about Seiya more;; like how he became da vinci or etc. 

Everytime I see Neumann I look at that comic sans type and it kills me on the inside. But I love that her eyes are 01 just, mwah perfection. These little details that aren’t that big but it’s soooo nice. I also ahem, unhinged character heart be still. It’s really nice reading manga in bursts because you can see the art progression and damn does she look good. 

tiny fang appreciation post. 

ngl i’M HARD SIMPING FOR THIS MAN. It’s the pony tail, I have such a thing for guys with long hair (and this is why genshin broke me) but man the art really picked up here. 

I didn’t get into it but OKITA ANON I GET IT. KOUU??? AHHHH. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE??? As much as his whole “war” was a bit questionable in the beginning and tbh I still don’t really get it I like that he knows he’s not the same as the other Greats but still tries to help the other “sinners” in a way only he knows. That’s why Seiya was so important;; I get that he wanted them to have a fun death and to be understood but idk, the whole war idea and having them kill each other (especially the Hitler fights because I understand the others since they reached some kind of acknowledgement) but nonetheless, what a great guy.

Nightingale gives me mad masaki vibes from chainsawman. I hate them and I can’t wait for you to fail, but the inner part of my is cheering for you because unhinged characters are my shit. I feel really bad for Neumann, I had suspicions she wasn’t actually like that since it’s sooo out of left field but I’m really glad the manga seems to know what it’s doing. I really wish we got more Kouu interactions with everyone tho. 

NOW THIS. THIS IS SOME WHOLESOME STUFF. I WANT THIS. I REALLY WANT SPIN-OFF OF REALLY SAD ANIME/MANGA/STORIES WHERE ALL THE DEAD PEOPLE HANG OUT. That’s how I’m feeling about JJK and the scroll segments or BSD WAN that just came out. IT’S SO WHOLESOME TO SEE EVERYONE NOT TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER. 

UGLY SOBBING IN THE CLUBBB AND KOUU AND CHARLOTTE AHHHH. I hate how this is phrased but the respect I have for Hitler?? YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD THAT IS TO TYPE?? Kitazuka is cool tho, I really like him. Some god given talent. I’m hard simping over him but I really hope we get to know more about him later. 

Getting smug mona vibes, I love this. 

AHHH IVE NEVER FELT THIS UPSET OVER AN APPLEEEE. I’M ACTUALLY UPSET. IF HE DIES IM ACTUALLY GOING TO CRY MY HEART OUT. 

THE FAMOUS SLAP 

I’M SORRY WHA- SLENDERMAN?

Oh..wow. Okay, be still my heart. When I first saw her I thought she was really pretty but now I’m absolutely smitten. God damn, can I please have some more crumbs on these characters before they die;; 

AHHH SAME GIRL FUCKING SAME????? I adore these small panels and translator notes. It’s a real breather after the sad 3am hours talk these characters go through. 

Yagyuu. Jesus christ. WHY ARE ALL THE DEATH SCENES IN THIS MANGA ACTUALLY SO PRETTY AND STABS ME IN THE HEART??? that’s it. goodbye. im fucking out. im actually so upset rn. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME? 

---

In conclusion, and I should probably re-read what the characters say and not go off on memory because I’m about to get really deep. I really like how they phrased why they wanted to stop the branch of sin. That there are people just like Toya and Haito who, if they never found the branch of sin, could still probably lead respectable and okay lives. That there was a “them” in another universe that didn’t go down that road and that they want to be in the same universe as “them”. I know this sounds really confusing if you haven’t read the manga but going back to what I said about the parallel universe stuff. 

There was a universe where Toya and Haito didn’t rely on the branch of sin, that even without their talents from becoming a returner, they could still live a happy life given their own personalities and attitudes. It was kinda moving since in the beginning, Toya wanted a talent so badly and now that he has one. He’s realizing that wait, I don’t need a past life talent in order to live. Honestly, I hard relate to that because I totally agree with him. If you have a talent you can probably live a very happy and comfortable life that other factors wouldn’t matter if you just have that incredible talent. Thinking of it as a painter or artist, if you had actual god-given talent you wouldn’t need to worry about other factors since people would naturally seek that talent. So you end up comparing yourself to others and setting that limit on yourself. 

But that’s okay, it’s completely natural and I’m not saying it’s horrible if you do this. Fuck, I do this all the time. I’m not saying the manga is changing my life but it’s kind of refreshing that it get’s talked about since other adaptations of this just make the character super OP. I understand wanting to have that incredible talent, fuck who doesn’t? but you don’t need it in order to live earnestly in the bigger picture sense. Not everything you do has to be productive and honestly, learning to be okay with having fun is nice. Just being okay with who you are right now, even if it isn’t perfect in your eyes, you still have time to build upon yourself and your own talents but doing it for yourself. 

But I probably missed the point and I’m going way to deep haha. But I really enjoyed reading this and thank you once again to okita anon for the recommendation^^ I always love everything you send me and I’ll start reading the next one. If anyone else has any recommendations let me know! 

[elicts]

                         𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚       …  𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

under the cut you can find a varying list of wanted connections for mister pacifist himself, eliot rivera! i tried to make most of these as flexible as possible so we can fine tune them or spruce up an existing plot with one so feel free to reach out and lmk if any work for you and your amazing muses ! ( @opalsmedia​ )

i. what a sad little life, jane ( open to all )

a ballad for a quirky rivalry & a come dine with me inspired plot

( song inspo: the village green preservation society - the kinks ) 

tw: food mention 

fully inspired by the downright bizarre student societies at my university and this video. two members of your typical, average, book club with a twist. every november without fail the club participates in a come dine with me inspired week for charity. five members of the strathmore literary club host one dinner party each for the others for five consecutive days. at the end of the week’s rotation, they each write the name of a member who has particularly impressed them (be it from their hosting style or the meal itself) and put it into an envelope to be drawn from. the winner of the week gets to donate the money to a charity of their choosing! but... what would happen if either eliot or your muse took a year’s loss to heart? whether it be underhanded tactics or just bad hosting, whatever occurred during this year’s charity week has left a sour taste in someone’s mouth. and with the next literary club meeting on the horizon tensions are higher than ever. 

 this could apply either in a previous year or be an upcoming plot that could cause a lil bit of tension! 

ii. fear was never on my mind ( taken by alejandra ) 

a ballad for a childhood friend 

( song inspo: youths - slow magic & innocence - nathan wagner ) 

i thought of this and my mind instantly went one of those british family holiday camps that have like... the ferris wheel and pantomime performances ( i specifically thought of butlins ) but this could genuinely be a vacation anywhere in the world. just two children who met on a holiday and to whom two weeks felt like a lifetime of friendship. could honestly go in any direction but some fun thoughts are shared memories and time capsules (!) or them meeting now and desperately wanting things to feel the same and they don’t as they’ve grown into two different people. 

iii. we’re standing in oceans ( taken by isadora ) 

a ballad for adventure & a twist on confidants

( song inspo: oceans - vallis alps & luna - bombay bicycle club & explore - sundara karma )

with tensions at an all time high in the manor, the thought of escapism (even if it’s just for the afternoon) seems awfully tempting. but eliot’s never been one to dive headfirst into an adventure. presenting ‘fifty great things to do in the south-east’. a bucket list of activities that can be done in and around london and the south-east of england thought up of a tipsy evening over a glass of wine when ‘wouldn’t it be easier to do outreach by just going to the predecessors’ houses?’ seemed like a logical statement. and he can’t go back on his word now!  now they’ve become weekend confidants, the kind who share things on a car journey to never repeat aloud again. but it’s nice just for a few hours to get away from it all. (as a former tour guide for a museum in london i will happily provide the list too if wanted, just as a little bonus).

iv. want to see us, want to see us apart ( open to all )

a ballad for a could have been

( song inspo: cellophane - fka twigs & dancing with our hands tied - taylor swift)

i once wrote that eliot made the headline of a single daily mail article and i would love to expand on that. essentially, just a connection that fizzled out before it ever really began due to media attention. i envisage they were two people much on the cusp of a great, big, something pre-strathmore until a disagreement about something outside a fashion week afterparty became publicised. it could have ended amicably or alternatively just have been an absolute wreck but we can work that out! 

v. like the kids in art school said they would ( taken by sloane ) 

a ballad for a helping hand 

( song inspo: ready to start - arcade fire & harbour lights - a silent film ) 

eliot’s used to feeling like he doesn’t quite belong in certain social spheres and for the most part, it’s something he still battles with in belonging to the society. perhaps it’s why he picks up on the other not feeling quite at home in recent weeks. it’s become a bit of a personal side mission to ensure they feel included and more at ease during their instruction. it could also be a nice opportunity for them to bond a bit more and for him to share his own experiences to empathise! 

[ask-the-party-god]

Ask The Party God - Timeline

the pre-terezi-gang timeline post is here

height references over here

hi, im jade! everyones favorite party goddess and trans doggy girl~ but you already know that! if youre reading this, it means youre interested in learning more about my reality, because paradox space is fucking weird like that and you cant really be sure all the time

as far as im aware, everything up to the point where we beat the game happened without deviations from the alpha timeline? so this is what rose has talked about as a ‘terminal timeline’, or ‘post-canon’, or whatever the hell that is supposed to mean

we got to earth-c, and i settled in the troll kingdom because trolls are cool, dave and karkat were in the neighborhood, and the caverns are close by so i can visit rose and kanaya speedily as well! i still do have my old tower out on an island, with my workshop and garden, but i almost never sleep in it, too far away and isolated from everyone...

then one day i found this old active server in the furthest ring keeping tumblr active and i thought, hey, why not have some fun? ;D

as for the others...

my darling sis june egbert! she lives in the consort kingdom, but has been thinking about relocating elsewhere lately! she went through a rough patch right after the game, unsure of what to do and full of all sorts of doubts and questions, but shes doing a lot better nowadays! specially now that terezi is back, shes been a lot more peppy and hanging around with the lalondes particularly!

rose rose rose rose~ happily married to her wife kanaya, duh, but that doesnt make her any less of a flirty cutie! a while back she got really sick for a bit, and weve been keeping an eye on her just in case it happened again, but its been all good ever since! she helps kanaya at the caverns a bunch, which makes her schedule busy busy... and you didnt hear this from me, buuuut words out on the street that she and kanaya may be warming to the idea of having a kid! <3 well see how that goes!

one cool dude~ daves a little bit of a shut-in honestly! and honestly i dont blame him? he must be tired after all the timeline and time travel shenanigans, so he spends a good chunk of his time hanging out in his and karkats house! hes kind of awkward about opening up with feelings and stuff, and ive been trying to nudge him to be more open for a while! but with all the craziness thats been going down lately, and more people coming and going and getting together, hes starting to consider things he hadnt before~ hopefully, some specific someones? ;)

janey! my uh... ecto-mom, technically, although we see each other more like cousins than anything else! she still owns crockercorp, but ever since jasprose has been around, she has been spending a lot more time at home and just hanging out with her friends, which really, sounds a lot healthier than the big business thing she had going on a while back! she enjoys teaching me baking stuff, but doesnt have much patience for my decorating skills ;p

grandpa! and grandson technically, hehe, jakes kind of a weird case, hes a mixture of a shut-in, a celebrity and an adventurer! he can spend up to weeks at a time without leaving his manor, but then hell have full weeks of interviews and hiking, and thats not to say anything of when he and dirk put out another episode or two of their dumb comedy talkshow... hes often busy with stuff, but hes still a good pal and can clear his schedule in seconds if we need him for something!

one sweet nb dude! rox really is... something else, really! fun to tag along at a party, fun to chill at home playing games, fun to talk about more serious stuff and open up with him, he really is just solid as they come! hes been hanging out a lot more with june since she got out of her depressive slump, but sometimes i wonder if junebug finds weird to get flirty with roxy, considering im pretty sure we made out in front of her at some point or two... hehehe

dirk! if daves a bit of a shut-in, hes a shut-in times two, which is weird because youd think someone stuck in post-apocalyptic earth for so long would want to hang out more? not to say he DOESNT, though! hes around jake often enough, and keeps close to jane, roxy and dave specially! we dont see each other too often, but we HAVE been messing around with robots and planning out to upgrade our respective self-bots for funsies!

aradia! we only met briefly in dreams for the longest time, but i knew already that she was a riot! she came with terezis group after she finally found vriska, and seems pretty happy just... kind of... being around and watching shenanigans ensue! i actually dont know where she lives, but she drops by occasionally, because im apparently pretty ‘fun’... cant say i disagree ;)

sollux is blind, and not dead, and WILL kick you in the shins if you keep prying about how exactly he ended up like that, which is fair enough! he spends a good chunk of his time with aradia, and im not sure if theyre dating or not...? but hes been around the other trolls a bunch! specially kanaya, apparently theyre good friends that go way back! i guess they both DO style their hair similarly, with the side spike thingies...

the other half of the dave-kat duo! swooooon~ really though, i cant remember the last time i said “dave” or “karkat” without talking about the other shortly after... buuut theyre just roomies, and hell get awkward and grumpy if you even so slightly IMPLY otherwise, despite the fact everyone knows they fall asleep leaning against each other during friday movie night! roooolling my eyes~ with the rest of the living trolls having arrived, hes been a lot more willing to go outside, which im glad for! its healthy to get some fresh air from time to time, and specially hang out with friends!

oh-la-la, miss maryam-lalonde herself! kanayas the matriarch of the caverns, and quite the busy gal, having taken it upon herself to supervise her entire species reproduction and well-being... in my opinion, she needs a good vacation from time to time, and to be less of a workaholic! >:o ive been helping her occasionally in the caverns, and as of late weve begun trying to mess around with ectobiology for some troll-human crossing experiments with... not good results so far... but hey, rome wasnt built in a day!

terezis back, yes! after spending YEARS out there looking for vriska, she managed to find her and come back, the madwoman! personally im not sure why anyone would go to such lengths for... her... but also, its not my bond, not my place to speak, she obviously really loves her a bunch! with vriska no longer lost in the middle of the furthest ring, shes started to catch up with everything going on with earth-c, and i think shes really going to like being around! specially with how much june and the rest have missed her ;)

troublemaker extraordinaire herself! shes... well, shes vriska, im pretty sure she stole that eyepatch from sollux? so you just know she up to no good already >:/ speaking of her eyepatch, im not sure WHY shes wearing it? whatever kinda wound she got, she doesnt like mentioning it, despite bragging about defeating english at every chance she gets! terezi says they found her popping in and out of consciousness in the furthest ring with some messy wounds, and that shed probably been hovering out there after the fight for years... doesnt seem to have humbled her in the slightest <.<

callieeeee! theyre super sweet and wonderful but also really shy and awkward! they live with roxy but manage to outdo dirk in terms of shut-in-ness... they also totally like roxy but is unsure about approaching those feelings considering the whole species thing and whatever, ive been trying to get them to open up for a while now! weve written fanfic together and drawn grids, so i can definitely tell theres some attraction there, even if theyre afraid of acting upon it just yet <3

jaspie is roses bane, and the one cat that made me get used to their smell enough that i dont bark at them instantly anymore! im pretty sure she crashes at janes often, and is just as outgoing and flirty as i am around earth-c parties and bars, which is saying something honestly! i wont let her dethrone me as the party god, though >:)

and finally davepeta! theyre staying with june for the time being until they can get settled around and see what they want to do here! theyve also dropped by dave and karkats a bunch, which i most certainly dont mind! i definitely appreciate some help in bringing a romantic vibe into those twos lives~ ;o

and thats about it! theres also the nannasprites and tavrosprite and arquius, but they pop by so sporadically and rarely that i dont know what theyre doing a majority of the time... we lost track of gamzee after the session so hopefully hes totally gone, and we havent heard any message from caliborn in years... and with the furthest ring broken and the black hole sealed, leaving a weird white empty space right in the middle of reality, im not sure what our chances of bringing back the other trolls are :( but still, we keep living on happily over here and having our fun slice of life ending together!

id say after everything weve gone through, we deserve a big break, dont we? hehehe <3

also, particularly important events that happen and are recorded in this blog will be tagged as timeline shenanigans!

[osamuniichann]

Map of the Soul: 7

After a ~315 day drought without new music and a comeback from the legends, we are finally back with MOTS: 7! It been a hot minute since ive done a album review (solely for myself LMAO) so lets get back into it bc this album is a home run

Interlude: Shadow. Here we have the extended version of the interlude. can i just say that the lyrics to this masterpiece are so real and true. its not suga speaking nor is it agust d, this is min yoongi speaking of his internal conflict with the celebrity life, which is heartbreaking. on another note, the visuals of the mv are stunning and the ending--dont u just wanna go apeshit??? truly a great addition to the album!

Black Swan. sister black swan has been with us for a month-ish now? it still bumps. HARD. i blasted this to and from my drive to work to the point where i was scared if id get sick of the song but that didnt happen. the way how its hard to pinpoint when and where a member would sing/rap because they INTENTIONALLY wanted the voices to blend as if they were one body. this is the group’s narrative on how no matter how passionate one is on a certain craft, when they lose that drive, its like a death. and it is up to themselves to spark that love and interest once again. a very relatable story across various media, talents, skills, etc.

Filter. When I first heard that this was a jimin solo showcasing the many sides of Jimin, i thought that it was going to be a sad ballad to kind of follow the theme mots: 7 seemed to give off; thought that it would talk about how he has to force personas onto himself to appeal to the masses, but it is the complete opposite. Jimin is all the faces he puts on, he can be cute, sweet, and caring Jimin but he is also a sexy, flirty young man that can attract any living being. how he switches from falsettos to a lower register voice is beyond me, what a versatile one he is! <3

My Time. Moving onto jungkook’s solo, I knew the lyrics were going to be sad especially when it seems to compare himself to others his age. How he speaks about how fast time runs for him, how his childhood and current life is not of the average 22 year old (LIKE UM HERE I AM, SAME AGE AS JUNGKOOK AND IM NORMAL AF while he’s out here breaking records?? WOW). but the life of jungoo can be a bit overwhelming, completely understandable. I just want our boi JK to know that he can be himself and live freely despite such different circumstances. On another note, the groove of this track is so GOOD. it reminds me of Ari and ugh i LIVE for this jam

Louder Than Bombs. When the track started, I could totally tell Troye Sivan helped produce it, it has such a unique sound that only Troye would use. It sounds like this song would totally be on a movie soundtrack IDK WHY. like, i can picture it during an apocalypse movie sldkjg im not completely sure what the meaning is to the song (bc im big stupid) but i feel like its a track saying that no matter the struggles, they will continue to sing confidently, strongly, and wholly to us endlessly. beautiful, just beautiful.

ON. Moving on to the title track of MOTS: 7! I’m very picky about strong anthem-type songs but ON is actually p addicting HAHA There’s a background sound that repeats in the back that sounds like Sans from Undertale, aint that wild LMAO but anyways, the Manifesto Film was crazy good. The drums, the band, the breakdown of it all? UNBELIEVABLE. Also, JK’s vocals during the bridge? H O W. That breakdown tho...oof, that was amazing. They still dance with the thirst that rookie bts would and i think thats why ppl are so drawn to them no matter how many years pass. Fun fact: the choreographer of ON as well as Dionysus actually is from my city in Hawaii and we went to the same high school THATS WILD. the talent she holds!

UGH! Rap line ATE this shit, are we KIDDING. An ode to all the hate comments that we receive, u can see how fed up they are. They made POINTS and we all agree, its the damn law. The way how they opened up with a gunshot, we knew it was coming. Everyone joked about how we bout to hear some gunshots on this album, well they threw ALL of it on this track. Can i just say that Hobi’s verse tho? it hits different, it really do. When they went “ahem, ahem. ahem, ahem-ahem, YOUR AHEM. AHEM-AHEM--” OOOOOUGH i felt that shit!! god, imagine this in concert...the building aint ready!

0:00 (Zero O’ clock). Now we have the vocal line track, we knew they were bout to present some vocals. Great sound, slow and reflecting. Not the first track I’d listen to but it is a great listen. The lyrics tho get to me. The way how they comfort us and say that life can be rough but you can be happy. no matter what happens, with the turning of the clock to 0:00, its a brand new day and we can make the day better. what a powerful message that all of us need to hear once in a while. we will be happy guys, we deserve to be.

Inner Child. Tae’s solo which is a message to his young self. I expected a slow ballad filled with his warm vocals reminiscent of Winter Bear, 4 o’ clock, and Scenery but boi was I wrong. He has this sunset glow voice that wraps u so warmly and the sound is just so happy, pure, and innocent. Its a hopeful message to his younger self on how we will change and be the amazing person we want to or will be. I was sobbing at this song, I tell u. It was 2:00 am in the morning and I was sobbing into my pillow. Imagine comforting your past self that everything will be okay and to take ur hand, it will be all worth it in the end. When he sang “ur my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy!” Ugh...the tears!

Friends. When I heard this was a vmin duet expressing their friendship with each other, I knew it was going to be so emotional! I didn’t expect such a fun, poppy sound tho. They truly are soulmates, the love they have for each other is so wholesome and real, it truly exhibits the love I have for my friends--they’ve been with me through thick and thin, during happy and sad times; the amounts of serotonin they give me is just HHHH. The way how Tae and Jimin have been friends since high school until now is just ugh...we love it. Towards the end when they started singing “you are my soulmate!” towards each other, i started sobbing so hard because WOW. the shivers i felt, this song made me so happy and full! 

Moon. Next we have Jin’s solo which is an ode to us army’s. And on another perspective, this is a song from the moon (jin) to the Earth (army)--i have tears in my eyes. The lyrics especially got me in a chokehold and made me sob, the way how he says that he will always be by our side no matter what, the same way how we are there for him...god. The chorus really gets to me, it feels so happy and thankful and I just want to tell Jin that I will forever follow him and the boys. They’ve been with me for years now and I will continue to support, love, and listen to them. Ily to the moon and back, our moon.

Respect. I didn’t expect a Namgi duet but HERE WE ARE. Goddd when i heard that i was SO EXCITE. They’ve known each other for +10 years now and they never miss the chance to tell everyone that they’ve been friends for that long. Not @ how they disliked each other at first but grew to be so mf close, to the point where their family. Ughhh, im so uwu rn. Im so happy, so so happy that Nams started it with AYO SUGA; i SCREAMED. Also, i heard that they recorded it in one take and i could see how much fun they had--especially considering that their rap styles are completely different. Even tho in the song they joke about not knowing what the word Respect means, we know...we just KNOW the high amounts of respect they have for each other. As they mentioned before, Yoon’s respects towards Nams’ leadership and care towards everyone and Nams’ respect towards Yoon’s love and passion for music and producing. Peak comedy is Yoongs overloading on autotune during his parts to the point where its intentional. Bless Namgi.

We are Bulletproof: The Eternal. I felt like a CLOWN when this track started. Like everyone, i thought we were going to have a third installment similar to that of the strong, hip-hop, gunshot-filled part 1 and 2 of we are bulletproof, but we were met with soft vocals and rap. The lyrics tho get to me. This truly was a song about their entire journey and i felt like I experienced all years with them. They’ve been through so much and the way how they sang “we are we are together/forever bulletproof!” They are proud of where they came from and it has stuck with them till now. They are such real people...i cry. ALSO the “We were only seven, but we have you all now.” Whenever i see pictures of their debut fanmeets/concerts vs now its just crazy. imagine singing as an entire being during concerts when they start “OOOOH OH OHH” im so immensely proud of the feats they’ve reached and im excited on what they do next! <3

Outro: Ego. The way how he started it with the fitness gram pacer test just like in previous albums, ugh what a throwback! this song is such a Hobi track, its fun, dance-inducing and its just so FEEL GOOD. the way how he switches flows and is capable of doing so is *chef’s kiss* the way how he speaks about the path he takes is difficult but he doesnt regret it...SOBS also the mv??? UGH SO CUTE. the flashbacks too;; i cry

ON (feat. Sia). With this track, there’s not much extra I can say, all my opinions still stand with the original track wit ot7. I jokingly told my friend that if Sia is gonna be on the track “hey nanana’ing” the same why Halsey was only “oh my my my’ing” i will ctfu. and...welp, that was what happened. I do love Sia tho so props to her!

Overall: I initially thought that MOTS: 7 was going to be a dark, ballad-filled album but it was anything but. It had so much fun songs, the lyrics are again, so deep and meaningful--it pulls at your heartstrings. It felt so raw, personal, emotional, and i love it in all its being. The boys will continue to amaze me no matter what they put out and i forever and endlessly will support and love them the same way they do for us. MOTS: 7 is a masterpiece and im in love

[reylofanfictionanthology]

The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology St. Valentine’s Day Love Fest

This year, to celebrate St. Valentine’s Day, we wanted to show the Reylo Writing Community a little bit of love by hosting a Reylo Fanfiction St. Valentine’s Day Love Fest. 

We will accept recommendations for this project until the end of February.  You can find details about how to submit a recommendation to the project here.

Love Fest List #1/?

Reylo Community Recommendations

all true lovers are by addictedtoacertainlifestyle

Summary: She might seem lonely, but Ben can sense that this forest is her faithful audience, and she is nothing but alone. The birds chirp a symphony to her, and the greenery around her bows, grateful to be blessed by her beauty. She truly is beautiful, but that’s not the entire reason he is so drawn to her. It’s her Magic.

Recommendation by @politicalmamaduck and dearly: “This fic epitomizes everything I love about Reylo, and my favorite AUs (historical/fairytale/mythology). It's basically a fic that I wish I had written or was capable of writing. The writing is just gorgeous and evocative.“ and “a lovely fairytale au one-shot with a slightly dark Rey.”

Eidelweiss by aionimica

Summary: Captain Kylo Ren hires Rey, a postulant from the local abbey to be a governess for his adoptive children. As time goes on, music grows in the Ren household and the Captain and Rey must choose: love or duty?

Recommendation by crossingwinter: “Because it is the Sound of Music AU I didn't know I needed until I read it!”

A Reylo Christmas by Biekewieke

Summary: Complicated situations call for intricate solutions... So when Leia Organa asks her Personal Assistant Rey to join her on a family vacation in Mon Torri for the holidays and highlights a big bonus, what is she to do? Only catch... Leia's son is coming along...Ben Solo is the enfant terrible of the family. Broody, sullen and with a huge chip on his shoulder, the young man is notoriously difficult. Combine this with complicated family dynamics, and you'll end up with one very interesting holiday.

Recommendation by @noppoh: “It's the perfect, Hallmark-type, Christmas fic. It has all the elements -- the misunderstandings, the secrets, and covert looks -- without it becoming cheesy or cliché. I absolutely adore it.”

running on empty by Jessa

Summary: Rey's on Jakku. Kylo's about to land. Something intrigues them both.

Recommendation by tehanufromearthsea: “This is a set of six drabbles. I love it because I think Jessa makes Kylo and Rey's characters very real. She has a way of grounding them and their environment in vivid, telling details.”

You're Sick, I'll Humor You by LoveThemFiercely

Summary: Just a short, silly, sickfic from @glitzescape's Tumblr idea.  It wedged itself into my brain while I was supposed to be writing something else, so here it is.

Recommendation by @nuanceismyjam: “It's short and simple and maybe a little silly, but it's also so so so sweet. I love the vulnerability of strong Ben Solo being a total baby when he's sick, and I love Rey shifting from her impatience to taking care of him. And the fact that she knows what movie he's going to ask for to the point that she loads it in the player before even asking which one he wants to watch? That makes me melt. I love me some soft!Ben, and we get that here in spades, even if it's because he's sick.”

miles we'll wander by meritmut

Summary: “I saw—a place,” she says, hesitates, forges ahead: “a planet. We were there. Both of us. I think—I think the Force was telling us to go there.”Her eyes are full of the stubborn faith that’s becoming so familiar to Ben: it draws him in.“I saw it too,” he breathes.

Recommendation by dearly: “Beautifully written canon divergence where Ben and Rey run off together.”

RFFA Writers Self Recommendations

(you’ll remember this) by addictedtoacertainlifestyle

Summary: A steady heartbeat; one look given, one returned. Again, and again.  They are the waves, together in motion until the universe collapses or the Earth dries out. After that, they continue, orbit around one another like celestial bodies, perihelion and aphelion, closer and farther in a never-ending dance. Again, and again.

“I’m very proud of how it turned out. it’s my favourite fic I’ve written, because I didn’t hold myself back and wrote exactly what came to my mind. It has a very poetic outlook on things, but is still realistic in a beautiful way. It’s vague enough for people to make their own interpretations what is going on outside of the fic, but the moments described in the fic itself have that kind of mundane beauty that I love.”

Event Horizon by Arwen_Evenstar

Summary: The old, decrepit body has fallen, finally. Wasn’t that expected? After all, there was a long tradition in the Dark Side of students bringing death to their Masters. This was no different. The intent, the resolve, was there. It only needed that extra push. The girl. He felt the conflict stirring within his pupil. And, slowly, the conflict became too loud for him to ignore. Kylo would be forever marred by the Dark, there was no going back - he made sure of it. The girl could try as she might, she would never succeed in full. He would be condemned either way - there was too much Solo in him, but he carried a heavy legacy. 

“It was my first solid, full story written for RFFA. It was an adventurous, exciting, tragic, love story, which ties with other stories that I am currently writing. I know its long, and perhaps its a wrong bet for me to propose it, but…I think it has so much of me in it…I had to propose it. Thank you for the opportunity.”

Syrup by cuddlesome

Summary: Rey offers Kylo her blood in an effort to get him to stop feeding on other members of the First Order.

“I love this fic because I really enjoy the idea of there being classic monster elements mixed in more with the main Star Wars canon. Vampires are really fun and Kylo is just perfect for it. I like to think about the logistics of having a terrifying bloodsucking commander in the First Order, how Snoke might control him, and Rey’s reaction to it.”

It Feels Like a Thousand Eyes by jitterygummy

Summary: "I lie awake and watch it all; It feels like thousand eyes" - Thousand Eyes by Of Monsters and Men Even with the thousands of eyes watching Rey and Kylo Ren, they find each other each anniversary. But a great deal can change over the course of a year.

“While it's an older fic, I still love how the style shows how much can change over the course of the year, and I think people might enjoy the dynamics of what could happen if Kylo had betrayed Snoke.” 

[writingandchocolatemilk]

Asylum - Chapter One

Hello, welcome to this venture !

This is a fic co-written by myself and @somebratinamask

There are several chapters planned, but for now there are two written. This is a fic primarily devoted to RusAme, but GerIta is essential to the plot and will come up later.

We hope you enjoy.

On AO3. On FFn.

Chapter One : The Delusions of Alfred F. Jones

Alfred F. Jones was an honest, true, good American, and as such, he did not lie. Well, sometimes he had to lie, but that was always for the greater good, for helping people, so it wasn't the same thing as lying-lying. It was like telling kids about Santa, or the Tooth Fairy, because it was fun and for their own good, and that was why Alfred lied, sometimes, but not today.

No, not today when the concerned nurse frowned down at him and asked him: "Why did you go into the burning building, Alfred? Can you tell me that?"

So, Alfred F. Jones said what he said when it wasn't a Santa situation, which was the truth: "Because I'm a fireman."

The nurse, who had kind eyes even if her mouth was set a little hard, looked at him with soft admiration. "No, Alfred, you're not a fireman. Can you tell me why you ran into the fire?"

Of course Alfred was a fireman, he had wanted to be a fireman since he was, what, seven years old? He had been running into smoky buildings for, what, at least six years now? Something like that, after college, and he just hadn't had time to grab his equipment, but people had been in trouble, and so Alfred did what firemen do and ran into the fire.

He told the nurse this.

And then Matthew burst into the room.

"You're an idiot, Alfred!" Matthew said, voice on the edge of hysterics.

"Calm down, Mattie, I'm f—"

"You're not fine! You almost died from smoke inhalation, Alfred, do you understand me!? You almost died." Matt collapsed in a chair and put his face in his hands. "I can't do this anymore, Alfred, I just can't."

God, his brother was so hysterical sometimes. He always blew things out of proportion and always bitched and moaned about how Alfred wasn't being responsible, but Alfred saw an issue and you know what, Alfred acted, that was more than Matthew could say for himself.

But, of course, it wasn't Alfred's job to tell Matt how timid he was. Alfred struggled to sit up under the wires checking his pulse and the IV lines and the oxygen mask, and leaned over to give Mattie a reassuring squeeze on the knee, and a kind smile, because it was alright.

"Mattie, come on now, I've gotten into scrapes worse than this. I'm a fireman, remember—"

Matthew looked at the nurse, eyes wide. "He does this. He's fine for a few months and then he'll do something fucking stupid like this and—and—he's never done anything like this before. It's just—he'll climb trees to get cats or walk around at night being a vigilante he's never… never…"

The nurse clicked her tongue.

…

In hindsight, Alfred should have lied.

He had nothing against the nurse, he was sure she was perfectly fine in her spare time, but also she was sort of a giant bitch.

…

This new nurse, a woman with a smile that was much warmer than the other nurse, took his blood pressures and asked him if he was on any medication, explained her name was Amy, and that she was going to be showing him around, where the bathrooms were, that he had to keep his wristband on with his name.

The whole place was basically a giant circle, with rooms lining either side—well, not a circle, but a square, but it looped around—and there was only one set of doors out, the one that Alfred came through. He had been buzzed in and then Amy had relocked the doors.

"Hey, Amy," Alfred said, giving her a warm smile, "why are the doors locked?"

Well, apparently not everyone wanted to be here, which was fair. Alfred didn't particularly want to be here either, but he wondered if Amy thought he was one of the unruly ones, because of course he wasn't, even if that bitchy nurse had listened to his hysterical brother, but this was a misunderstanding.

Alfred found that if he was agreeable, even if it was silly, people cut him slack.

Still though. He eyed the locked doors as they passed by. And the nurses' station was locked. He watched the nurses—who didn't wear scrubs, even though they were in the hospital—jingle their keys to enter the sections Alfred was barred from.

Amy returned. "Have you ever taken antipsychotic pills, Alfred?"

"Nah, I'm healthy."

Amy nodded, and then explained that he wasn't a fireman—Jesus, what was it with these people? You'd think they had his autobiography run through an antonym machine—and that these pills would help him have a better grip on his "situation."

Alfred smiled and swallowed them down pleasantly enough.

At least Matthew had brought him an overnight bag.

…

Alfred had never had a roommate before.

Alfred watched his sleeping form intently, chin resting in his hand. The only roommate he had ever had was Mattie, and it was exactly as much fun as was to be expected. Matthew hadn't even let Alfred get a dog—can you believe that? Get a dog, like Matt was his dad or some shit.

"Can I help you?" The roommate was looking at Alfred.

Alfred grinned. "Good, you're up. I'm Alfred F. Jones, and I'm a fireman. I hope we can split this rent evenly between the two of us, and I'm getting a dog, so I hope you're a dog person."

The roommate blinked at him. "Hello, Alfred, it's three in the morning. I would appreciate it if you would stop muttering and let me get some sleep."

Ah, so if that was how the roommate was going to be, that was fine. But of course, they wouldn't let Alfred switch roommates, it was too late or early or something, and this other nurse was much bigger and had an actual uniform on, and he told Alfred to get back to bed in a way Alfred was familiar with, because it was usually how people spoke to him before they punched him.

"Hey, easy, big guy! Alright, alright, I'm going to bed. It's just that this guy over here sucks, and—"

"Back to bed, Jones."

Two out of the three nurses so far were giant dickheads. Alfred was not impressed.

…

"Alfred?"

Alfred stood up and gave a little bow to the circle. "Hello, all! I am Alfred F. Jones, the best damn fireman this side of the Mississippi, which is saying a lot, considering how heavily populated the East Coast is! See these burns? I got them from saving people from a blaze! I had smoke inhalation."

Of course, no one was awake this early in the morning, and the nurses took his blood pressure and talked to him in soothing voices and gave him more pills and no one even asked what it was like being a fucking fireman, which was cool as shit, but whatever, fine.

One jumpy kid gave him a curious look. "Are you really a fireman?"

Alfred jumped on the opportunity this—what was his name? Feli-something? This Feli, then—gave him. Yes, you should have seen the fire. Alfred threw his hands in the air, making a whooshing noise of the timbers being eaten—the heat, Feli, you could have felt it from forty feet away, and it was night, of course, so Alfred's eyes had been drawn to the light like a moth to a flame, the cinders flying into the air so high they could have burned the underside of planes—

Which was a thought, because Alfred had a pilot's license, too—

But the fire, yes, and Alfred had just known there was someone calling for help, trapped under a fallen support beam, so of course Alfred had barged in there, searching frantically through the smoke, his glasses practically melting on his nose.

Feli watched, enraptured, captivated by this story, and Alfred was happy he could make at least one friend in this place.

…

The afternoon brought with it drowsiness. Alfred sat on his bed, looking at the bandages on his hands, rerunning the story he had told that Feli-kid, fixing details he had forgotten, like how this woman was worried about her baby and was yelling for help, that was—

"I haven't introduced myself."

Alfred looked up at the shit roommate. "Oh, now you want to talk?"

"Yes, when it's not the middle of the night, I think you will find me much more amicable. I'm Ivan."

Alfred rolled his eyes.

"So, you're a fireman? I heard that little story you told Feliciano."

Ah, so Ivan had been listening. Well, good. "Yeah, but I had forgotten some stuff. There's a lot to it, you know, there's a lot to saving people."

"And being a pilot?"

That's right, that's where Alfred had received his firefighting training. You just don't show up to a big ass fire without training, so they taught that in the air force, in case the planes ever caught fire on the air force ships, or the field, how to save people. Alfred wasn't lying about that, Alfred didn't lie, like everyone kept saying.

Ivan asked after Alfred's hands, and Alfred had to end up showing him the burns, explaining how it had been from moving fallen timbers, and of course he usually wore gear, but there was no time to act, this lady was screaming for her kid and what was Alfred going to do? What was smoke inhalation to saving a child? A baby, two actually.

Sometimes, you just needed to act.

Ivan gave him a look—probably feeling bad he had been a dick earlier. But by this point, Alfred was tired of talking.

…

Alfred didn't like this doctor.

"Alfred, I'm going to need you to cooperate. The only way you can get better is to work with me here."

The doctor was fucking condescending, that's what. There was nothing wrong with Alfred, this was all a misunderstanding, for fuck's sake Alfred was a pilot, he had saved a family from a fucking fire, he didn't need to be in the hospital, right?

And how were the meds making Alfred feel?

Tired, they were making him tired and sluggish. Alfred had slept all afternoon, and then had been kept in his room by another dickhead nurse who said it was too late to walk, so Alfred was left jiggling his knee all night and wondering where the fuck all his shoelaces had gone, and why hadn't Matthew packed him anything to do.

And look, he had a twitch.

"That's a side effect."

To what?

And then the doctor spouted off the name of the medication which meant dick-all to Alfred, and again, they were antipsychotic meds, but Alfred wasn't doing anything psychotic!

It was like having the same conversation on a loop.

…

"Alfred."

Alfred focused on Matthew. "Please tell me you brought something for me to do. I'm bouncing off the walls here, I'm going fucking crazy."

Matt nodded. "I brought you the stuff you keep hidden under your bed."

The good stuff, how did he know where Alfred kept the good stuff? All the good comics collectors would kill to have—

"Alfred."

"Yeah?"

"Alfred, why do you think you're a pilot?"

"Because how else would I have training for the fire?" Alfred held up his bandaged hands.

Mattie nodded. "So, you're in the military?"

"Yes."

Mattie nodded again. "Okay. How old are you?"

"Do you seriously not know how old I am?"

"Of course I do, I'm your brother. Just humor me and I'll give you comics."

Alfred rolled his eyes. He loved his brother, but look, again with the dad shit, the ultimatums! "I'm twenty-four."

"Okay, and when did you go to the military?"

"I—"

Mattie leaned forward. "No, think about it. It wasn't when you were eighteen, right? Because you went to college for a bit, remember? Until you were twenty-two, right? And then we moved closer to our Dads, right? How were you trained and deployed in two years?"

"People are trained and deployed in two years—"

"No, because you were there for the vow renewals, right?"

Alfred frowned. Yeah, that was right, that shit was boring and long and sappy, and Alfred had nearly torn his skin off keeping still that long, but he had smiled and hugged everyone like his Father had told him to do, good boy.

"Alfred, you're not a pilot, right?"

Right, yeah, of course. Who the fuck had been saying he's a pilot? That's stupid—although, of course, he could see where the confusion could come in, Alfred was very trim and had the calm demeanor of a pilot—but Alfred hadn't had the time to enlist, unfortunately, he was busy at school.

And busy with the volunteer firefighters, of course.

But Alfred kept that to himself and Mattie gave him a box filled with, finally, something interesting.

…

Feli was saying something interesting. "I know it's all in my head, I get that, but it doesn't stop me from hearing things, you know? And then you start to wonder what's real or not, because how can you really know, know, you know? Because sometimes you ignore something and it's real."

…

Ivan tilted his head. "What are you thinking about?"

Alfred picked at the scabs on his hands, irritated with them. They were itchy and he was tired and twitchy and the shit Matthew had brought him had only lasted—only lasted for a few hours, and now Alfred was without things to do, and he was stuck watching boring movies and walking outside for like, two seconds.

So that thing Feli had said the other day was eating at him. Because he had sounded delusional, right? That's what Alfred thought, anyways, because how the fuck do you mishear things that are real? Maybe fake things, but it's like when there's a ringing in your ears, you make a noise in your throat and the fake ringing fades back and you can figure out it was just the blood in your ears.

"Yes, Feliciano has schizophrenic."

Right, exactly, Alfred knew that shit, he was wondering more like, well, what was Alfred doing here? Clearly it was a misunderstanding, but Matthew had been here, and Matt didn't do anything without calling Papa and talking for fucking hours on end, so Alfred's parents knew he was here, but Alfred wasn't a schizo, just—

"You're not delusional?" Ivan asked, raising his eyebrows.

Alfred glared at him. "No, I'm not fucking delusional."

"You take the same pills as Feliciano, don't you?"

Ivan didn't know if they were the same pills.

"I do, actually. Small, yellow, with a line through the middle."

Alfred's mind jumped back to that morning, when meds were being passed out. Yeah, yeah, that sounded about right. That's what his looked like, anyways, and yes, actually, he was sure Feli did take the same ones.

"Same ones Feliciano takes," Ivan insisted.

Well, clearly that was just a mistake, then. All Alfred had to do was go to one of the nurses and tell them they had messed up the medication, just knock on that glass and smile like he did and tell them no, he wasn't a schizophrenic, not like Feli—

"That wouldn't work though, would it?" Ivan asked.

Alfred hesitated at the door. Ivan knew what drugs he and Feli took. "Why wouldn't it?"

Ivan gave a casual shrug and leaned back against his pillows. "I could see them messing up your drugs once, twice, maybe even three times. But you've been here, what, two weeks now? You've talked to the doctor how many times, to your nurse Amy, and they keep giving you the 'wrong' drugs?"

"You're saying it's intentional?"

Ivan gave another little shrug and flipped a page in his book.

No, he couldn't just say that and fuck off. But that didn't make sense, Alfred was in a hospital, why would they give him the wrong medication on purpose? Although, none of the nurses wore any scrubs, and that was just sanitary, wasn't it, wearing scrubs? That had been bugging Alfred, and it was weird how they took his blood pressure, what did that have to do with anything?

And the twitch. Alfred looked at his hand that moved without his permission, and how he had been telling the doctor that he was drowsy. Or maybe they were placebo pills, doctors did that sometimes, too, to test medication. That would explain why they were giving it to Alfred, to test it.

Feli was absolutely no help. He had no idea what medication he was taking, or what it looked like, and he had no idea what his official diagnosis was, he just kept saying something about dopamine, which made no fucking sense. Feli had no idea if any of the nurses were registered, he had no idea what the doctor's last name even was because it was slipping Alfred's mind—

Wait, no it wasn't. What was it that Matthew had been saying the other day? Alfred had gone to college.

Of course Ivan knew what medication Alfred was taking, because Alfred had prescribed it to himself. Ivan must have seen the slip. Relief dropped down Alfred's back like warm water, and he smiled.

…

Ivan leaned close enough to whisper into Alfred's ear without Alfred's coworkers hearing. "I see you're still taking your pills."

Alfred pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked at Ivan through half-lidded eyes. "Of course I'm taking my pills. It would be dumb to waste the prescription. You're wrong, by the way, Feli and I don't take the same meds. I take Flutix and he takes Harbidrole. It's an easy mistake, really, they do look similar, but Harbidrole is used for schizophrenia, while I clearly don't have schizophrenia."

"Ah, so you're a doctor, now."

Yes, of course. Alfred was a little young, sure, but he was in advanced classes, and he was halfway through his residency before this little incident, he was studying—

"And the firefighting?"

What? Oh, yes, well, that was just on a volunteer basis, just to pad his resume so he could get into medical school, which was difficult enough, but Alfred managed it after only a year and a half at undergrad. It—

"So, if you don't mind me asking, why are you in a psych ward, Dr. Jones?"

Part of Alfred's residency, plus Alfred was feeling very stressed with medical school—

"And what is your diagnosis?"

"Like I said," Alfred said primly, "stress, mainly. That's what Flutix is used for. It has to do with dopamine."

"Oh, dopamine, of course. And dopamine has to do with stress, doesn't it, Dr. Jones."

"Yes." Alfred grinned. "Exactly. Very good."

"What are you studying?"

"Psychiatry."

Ivan tilted his head. "Could I ask you a question, Dr. Jones?"

"Of course. You are in a psych ward, of course, and I am studying psychiatry." Dr. Jones was a man of the people after all, and what was a little free consultation among—

"What would you diagnose me with?" Ivan's lips twitched into a small smile. "If you would allow me to pick your brain."

Well, that was an easy one. Ivan was clearly a neurotic, distrustful, prone to conspiracy theories. Dr. Jones didn't know how to concisely put it, but it was clear in the way Ivan distrusted the medication Alfred prescribed himself, and was generally shifty—

"I'm shifty?"

Dr. Jones blinked. "Yeah, you didn't want a roommate, right? Distrustful of someone new."

Ivan's eyes lit up. "Actually, I'm very pleased with the turn of events that led to my new roommate. Thank you, Alfred, this has been enlightening."

Ivan touched Dr. Jones' elbow lightly as he passed.

Dr. Jones watched him walk down the hall. Yeah, that's right, he could diagnose people, because he was a doctor, but he hadn't much time to really get an in-depth look into most patients' brains because he was still so new on the floor, but he had talked to Feli.

Feli glanced up as Dr. Jones approached and smiled, and boy, did Dr. Jones have some great news for Feli. No, Feli, Dr. Jones, Alfred was a doctor, please, stop deflecting, Dr. Jones had some great news for Feli, he didn't have schizophrenia, he had seizures.

Yes, Feli, that's what make sense, doesn't it? It explained the weird hallucinations, why Feli was so absentminded, a mild form of epilepsy, definitely, Feli should definitely let his primary care doctor know as soon as he saw her again—

Yes, of course Dr. Jones was a doctor, he was only a firefighter on a volunteer basis, and even that was pretty rare, no, listen, Feli, Dr. Jones had graduated early from medical school through an advanced program, and was in the middle of his residency and was here to get a feel of where he would be working, and also due to stress.

…

"A doctor? Alfred, does that make sense to you?" the fellow doctor sitting across from Dr. Jones asked.

"That's Dr. Jones to you."

Dr. Jones sat in stubborn silence and the doctor had the audacity to sigh and shuffle papers in front on him, saying they'll try again tomorrow, Alfred.

"That's Dr. Jones."

…

Dr. Jones sat on his bed, exhausted, watching Ivan, who wasn't doing all too terribly much. Now that Dr. Jones thought about it, both Ivan and Mattie did the same boring shit—namely, read a whole bunch. Didn't they get bored? Dr. Jones got bored watching them, and Dr. Jones was so fucking sick of being bored.

"What are you reading?" Alfred asked, nicking the book from Ivan's hands.

"Excuse me, I was reading that."

Yeah, and it was fucking boring. Dr. Jones walked back over to his bed and bent over the book, picking up where Ivan had left off, squinting through the dense, academic writing, trying to follow dates.

"It's a history book," Ivan said from the other side of the room.

Yeah, Dr. Jones could—

"Are you a fan of history?"

No, not really. It was always so dry for Dr. Jones' taste. It was cool when it was wars or explosions or spy missions, but mostly it was a lot of riots or picketing or death or presidents, and while it was interesting to learn, things like that didn't stick in Alfred's head very well, so he was left with a jumble of information and dates that didn't connect.

"I see." Ivan was clearly trying to get his book back with all this talk, but Dr. Jones wasn't—"What does stick in your head, then?"

"Physics." Alfred blinked at his own answer. "Math. Stuff with right and wrong answers."

Ivan watched Alfred flip through the pages of his book.

Alfred looked up. "I like space stuff. I thought it was really cool they could send satellites to different moons based on the gravity and orbit of other planets. I forget the word for it, but there's a way to make a satellite orbit around another body and then have it slingshot where you want it to go. Maybe it was slingshot-ing. Called that."

"So, my history book isn't very interesting to you, is it?"

Alfred snorted. No, of course it wasn't interesting, Dr. Jones only took it to see what was so fascinating—

"I have another book you might like."

If it was anything like the current book in Dr. Jones' possession—

Ivan sat up on his bed and reached underneath to pull out a plastic bin filled with books, enough to give even Matt a rough time of reading them all, which was saying something, and he moved a few stacks around until he found what he was looking for.

He held it out to Alfred. "Here."

Alfred already had a book—

Ivan waved the book in the air. "Come on, take it. You've read through those comics underneath your bed at least ten times, and I guarantee the book you have in your hands currently will put you to sleep faster than Flutix does."

Alfred stood and quickly exchanged books. Ivan didn't say another word, and curled back onto his bed, resuming where Alfred had left the pages.

Dr. Jones wasn't expecting much when he flipped open to a random page, but to his surprise, it was about space stuff. Granted, it was still boring ass history shit, but it went into the Cold War science behind all the space missions, how spies had stolen information.

Occasionally, Alfred would reach a part in the book that referenced something earlier that he hadn't read, so Alfred would need to flip back, but he would end up engrossed with this new part that led into the thing he had been reading later, so he would flip back and forth and back and forth and back and forth until there was nothing left.

And then Alfred started again.

…

Ivan glanced up at Alfred. "I was beginning to think I had lost you in there."

Alfred handed back the book and took a seat by Ivan on the ground because the chairs were too far away and Alfred had something he needed to do. He handed back the book and then handed him #4 of Mightnighter: Out.

Ivan raised an eyebrow and looked pleased. "I don't think I can spend three days reading a comic, but I will certainly do my…" Ivan actually seemed to get a good look at the cover. "There's… a hammer. And a sickle."

Yes, of course there was a hammer and sickle, Ivan was Russian.

"How did you know I was Russian?"

Well, it was easy with his last name and his accent, so slight that nothing but Alfred's trained ears could pick it up.

Alfred jumped up and nodded, because now Ivan could read about something he liked, as well, something he could connect with and take some hours away so he wasn't fidgety, either, something to keep his mind engaged and fingers from trembling even though he had told the doctor he was sick of the tic—

Ivan held the book back out. "You can keep it."

Alfred had snatched the book before he was even aware he had done it, it was just back in his hands. "You can't keep the comic."

"I wasn't planning to."

…

Few things went in the box, stuff that thieves and spies would spend hours pouring over, the smallest detail, the smallest word, the way the color faded into black or the way the plot twisted together from other stories to merge into a perfect issue that only made sense if you read the other ones, eyes red and tired and those who would spend days and days and days pouring over these things, studying, these are things that went in the box, to keep from those who would study instead.

These were precious things.

…

Alfred wondered, faintly whenever he caught himself waking up, why there weren't any windows in his room.

…

"You seem better."

Alfred glanced up from the table to Matthew, an ocean away on pills and the hard plastic-wood tables were made of. "There was nothing wrong with me to begin with." The words the doctor used came out across his tongue: "I get carried away with things."

Mattie let out a breath of air like a deflating balloon. "How are things?"

How were things? That was a question. "I sleep, a lot. And I've walked around that fucking ward enough times to wear a track in the linoleum, but I'm…"

He was what? Alfred could feel it, vaguely, something different, something just on the edge of his consciousness that usually got him going was bound and gagged, like the hum of a TV that was muted, a different sort of noise. It was strange and Alfred was afraid to think about it too much.

"It's good," Matthew said, firmly. "It's a good thing, the doctor said so."

Alfred frowned at this, and something about the phrase scratched at the back of his mind. Mattie told him about his shifts, about how Dad and Papa missed him and sent their love, of course. Alfred had the urge to scratch at his hairline.

"Are they coming to visit?"

Matt sighed again, and Alfred wondered when he had started doing that all the time, like everything Alfred said was the tenth time he had asked the same thing. "No, I don't think so. But I did bring you some things—"

"Why won't they visit?"

Matthew stared at him like a sinking ship. "Because they don't want to. They say it makes them too sad, Alfred, and I'm inclined to agree. What are you doing here!?"

That was a good question, wasn't it?

Matthew let out another fucking sigh. "God, Alfred, what are you doing here?"

"Well, do you have something to say?"

Matthew let out a little laugh. "Do I have something to say—do you think you'll hear it? Or will you just get that deranged look in your eye and start rambling away about some—" Mattie hissed the word: "Bullshit and ruin things again?"

That wasn't fucking fair, Alfred didn't ruin jackshit—

"Yes, you have, and what's worse, you don't even think, you're a million miles away—"

Across a sea— "How the fuck do you know what my doctor said?"

Matthew froze for just a second, in the middle of looking around, of his shoulders slumping. "I didn't, I just know what an improvement looks like."

Alfred stood. "You're fucking lying. You're not my emergency contact, I didn't give you permission to talk to my doctor, it's none of your fucking business about why I'm in here."

Matthew let out a laugh of sharp air. "It's not my business—do you hear yourself? Like I haven't been fucking forced into your business for years—"

"There you go again with that dad bullshit again!"

"What on earth are you—"

"You act like I'm a little kid!" Alfred loomed over Matthew.

Matthew didn't stand, face-to-face with Alfred, nose inches from his own, didn't shove him back, no, Mattie just sank further into his seat. "You are a little kid."

"Leave."

Matthew opened his mouth—

Alfred shoved Matthew, and his brother threw out his arms to stop himself from falling backwards out of the chair. "Alfred what the—"

"Leave and take your fucking party favors with you. They don't make up for the fact you use me to feel better about yourself, that treating me like an idiot makes you feel better because no one gives a shit about you, not Dad, not Papa, and especially not me."

Matt didn't even look up at him. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"No, I'm just usually too nice to tell you the obvious, but I'm sick of your sighing and I'm sick of the shit you bring me and I'm sick of you talking to my doctor and I'm sick of all of this!" Alfred whirled to the blond nurse hovering nearby. "And you can tell my fucking doctor that if I hear he's been talking to my brother, there's not a strong enough lock to keep me from leaving this place."

Now Matthew stood. "You're being—"

"Leave."

…

"You talked to my brother."

The doctor looked impassively back at him over his desk. "Does that bother you?"

"Yes, it fucking bothers me. What about doctor-patient confidentiality, doc? What about you not telling fucking lies to my brother about me?"

Oh, but they weren't lies, Alfred, he was just updating Matthew on Alfred's situation, but there wasn't a fucking situation! For fuck's sake, Alfred shouldn't be in here! And it was god damned illegal to keep him here without his permission.

"Matthew was concerned about your delusions, Alfred."

Delusions, delusions, what fucking delusions, those were misunderstandings, those were idiots, those were the doctor saying things about Alfred that just weren't true, maybe you're fucking delusional!

"Clearly, you're in no position to talk right now, Alfred. We'll try again tomorrow."

…

Alfred didn't care about the fucking penguins, or about their stupid fucking eggs, or about how they were still in fucking Antarctica even though they should have fucking died off hundreds of years ago, thousands, millions, the timescale of evolution.

Alfred felt his eyes flicking from person to person until he reached an awfully large gap he hadn't noticed before, and his eyes landed on Ivan, an island in the tightly packed folding chairs of movie night.

"Look at the chick, Alfred," Feli breathed next to him.

Feli kept saying stupid shit like that, while Ivan got to have three chair-lengths of space around him like an asteroid impact.

…

And one that followed Ivan around like a bubble.

…

In the morning vitals line, Alfred could have sat in a chair between Ivan and the next person.

…

At recreation time, Ivan by the window, reading, people moving around him like water around a smooth stone that licked his finger to turn pages.

…

At meals, a table to himself, a fortress, a minefield.

…

Outdoors, Ivan could have been a hiker, alone, the last one on the Earth, walking through a field with his hands behind his back and a tent he could set up in abandoned cities.

…

A lion gripped a gazelle in his teeth while Alfred neatly stepped over the chairs in front of him and sat down next to Ivan. If Ivan was surprised, if Alfred held more interest than the stupid fucking Savannah, he certainly didn't show it.

"People are afraid of you."

Ivan's eyes held only the screen in front of him and did not turn their attention to Alfred. "I am trying to watch the movie. Your voice is loud and distracting."

"You don't give a shit about the movie."

"Interesting conclusion, because I'm watching it."

Alfred looked between Ivan and the projection. "Who gives a shit about lions?"

"Obviously not you."

Ivan's eyes were still glued to the screen and it was pissing Alfred right the fuck off.

"No one talks to you. All yesterday, no one, just the nurses and I would guess your doctor, but it must get lonely. All you do is read books and watch the shitty documentaries and nod when the nurses ask you to do something, and you don't have visitors that often, and you read fast and no one else reads the things you do so you have no one to talk to about them."

Finally, Ivan turned his eyes "So, Mr. Popular is pitying me? I have some bad news: I'm not going to sit at your lunch table."

"I wasn't inviting you." Alfred grinned at him. "But you are lonely. Or something. You didn't answer my questions, see, you're fucking deflecting and that shit doesn't work anymore. I might twitch like a motherfucker but you're lying, Braginski."

Half of Ivan's face was illuminated by the sunlit world an ocean away, and the other half was not. "And what am I lying about, Jones?"

Alfred stood and a shadow ate the projection. "You would totally sit at my lunch table if I invited you."

…

Ivan did not have any more books. He had boxes and boxes full of shit, but he did not have any more books, and Alfred should know, he had been digging under Ivan's bed nearly all evening, pulling out waste of tree pulp after waste of tree pulp and flipping to a random page only to find it wholly uninteresting.

Ivan had watched him at first, but he had soon picked up one of the books Alfred had tossed irritably away and began reading, trusting Alfred enough to look through his precious information. Not that there was much. Just shit.

"You know," Ivan said, licking a finger, "I could suggest a book to you."

No, that wasn't what Alfred wanted. He didn't want a suggestion, he wanted a book to call to him like a beacon, something influential that would change his world view like people had experienced with the Bible, but less boring than the Bible, because Alfred had tried that one and found it both hard to read and also a waste of paper and honestly, did every single book Ivan own try to use the biggest word possible? Like look, here, extraordinary, couldn't they just use great?

Ivan proceeded to tell him about the merits of more precise words to communicate blah, blah, blah. Alfred watched Ivan's mouth move and watched his eyes continue to read as he lectured and the sound wasn't bad, soft. Alfred looked up at Ivan from his position on the floor, his feet under Ivan's bed, and thought about how few people had seen Ivan from this angle, looking up as Ivan read and talked, surrounded by books. And the sound really was quite lovely and Alfred just rested his head against Ivan's knee.

…

Alfred stared at the doorway, counting the shadows that walked by, counting his heart beat, dividing it by six, multiplied by twelve and a half and then subtracting by seven, fingers twitching, restarting when the shadows walked back in front of the door, boots heavy on the floor.

He had asked to go to the bathroom three times and it was only one in the morning, they were going to tell him to hold it if he didn't stop, they were going to call the nurses if he didn't stop—

"What are you thinking about?"

Alfred looked over to the other side of the room and found a companion in bed, sitting up, eyes bright in the gloom.

"I don't want to sleep." Alfred held up his hand and watched his hand trembled. "It feels like all I've been doing is sleeping and I don't want to do it anymore." Like a fog had settled over him, slowing his movements, the whole world banging on his front door and demanding his attention. And the world was so boring.

"It is boring," Ivan said softly, "isn't it?"

Alfred blinked up at him, suddenly unsure if he had spoken aloud or not. "Why are you here, Ivan?"

Ivan head turned away from the light of the hallway, and if there had been a window in this jailcell, Ivan would have been looking out it and considering the question. As it was, he looked at the cinderblock walls and took longer to respond. "Because I was ordered to be here."

This clicked into place in Alfred's mind. So that was why people were afraid of him, because he wasn't kept here against his will by the hospital, but by someone else, because he didn't take the same pills in the morning and his responses weren't the same in group. Because someone higher had looked at Ivan and decided to make him come here.

"And why are you here, Alfred?"

Why was Alfred here. It was all people seemed to be asking him these days, and Alfred watched the shadow walk across the door and counted his heartbeat and divided and multiplied and subtracted and almost forgot to respond to a question that had been haunting him the past few days. "I'm not like Feli."

"No. No, you are most certainly not like Feliciano. Which begs the question, doesn't it?"

"I think… I think Mattie put me here." Alfred picked at some weird, dry stuff on his hands, wondering where it had come from, why it was there, when things like this started to bug him when they so clearly hadn't before. Had they? "Do you think that medication works?"

"Flutix?"

What the fuck was Flutix? "No, the shit they give me. The same bullshit they give Feli. Do you think it works? Do you think it's working? Do you—"

"I certainly think it does something."

Ivan's figure swam in Alfred's vision and his eyes burned and his head was full of fuzz and he could feel the darkness pulling him down, pulling his eyelids down and his head started to dip even as he jerked up to try and stay awake and even as Ivan stood and walked over to him and it felt so good to slip into that blank space in his head and give in and Ivan looked down at him and

…

Alfred frowned. "Where did you get that?"

Feli looked up. "Hm?"

Alfred pointed at the brownie Feli was holding. "Where did you get that? I didn't get one, and everyone else only gets Jell-O here for dessert. How the fuck did you get a brownie, Feli?"

Feli looked at the brownie in his hand like he was surprised to see it there, the fucker. "Oh, um, I don't know. It was just on my food tray, and I just thought that I could eat it because it was there—"

"Why didn't anyone else get a brownie?" Alfred leaned over and snatched the paper slip that detailed Feli's food order, and yep, the slip had Feli's name on it, so he hadn't taken someone else's tray by accident. "What makes you so special that you get a good dessert?"

Feli was staring at him with wide eyes, frozen, scrambling for an excuse. "I—I don't know, I just eat what they—"

"No, that's bullshit. They have a locked room and you have to ride on an elevator to get up here, they don't make mistakes, there aren't any windows. You didn't just get a brownie by mistake. There's other shit, too, you get more bathroom breaks at night, and I bet you there's other shit I didn't notice, either."

"Alfred," Feli said, voice bordering on yelling, defensive, "I don't know why I got a brownie." His voice wavered and his eyes were glassy and Alfred wasn't buying that shit for a second. "But I'm sure if I just tell—"

"Alfred." Ivan's voice was like a fire extinguisher, cold and calm and dousing, a tone that could get in your lungs and seep into your bloodstream and calm anger. Alfred hadn't even heard him walk over, and he leaned backwards to look at him. "Could I talk to you for a moment?"

Alfred shoved himself away from the table, glaring at Feli as Ivan gently led him away by the small of the back to the corner of the room, where he stood, head tilted as Alfred explained that Feli was fucking shifty as fuck, the brownie was just the final straw, something was off and Alfred didn't know what but Feli definitely had connections, he had a key to this place, a key or could feed notes through the heating vents to the kitchen—

"Alfred, do you really think Feliciano could pull all that off?"

Alfred watched Feli stare at his brownie, eyes wet and breath hitching, the schizo.

"Right, see," Ivan murmured, "it doesn't make sense for Feliciano to be the one orchestrating any grand brownie heist, does it?"

No. No, Alfred supposed not. No, but he was caught up in something, something he had no idea about, right over his head, a mile high. It was just a matter of who, and of course the obvious answer were the people keeping Feli here, and by extension, the people keeping Alfred here, but why, and what did the brownie have to do with it?

Well, it was obviously a reward, even if poor, stupid Feli had no idea it was. But, if there was one thing Feli was, was talkative, he could talk about the color of the tiles or about flowers or other dumb shit, so he was a spy—

"Come on Alfred, you can do better than that." Ivan looked over his shoulder at Feli. "I do wonder the coincidence, though, don't you?"

Okay, start over, Feli wasn't a spy, he was just a bystander. And Feli wasn't going to put two and two together, obviously, so that just…

Alfred bounced on the balls of his feet. "It has to do with me, I bet you. I'm the only guy in this place who's going to notice something like that, the only one who can put this together. It was a message from…"

From someone, and Alfred felt his brow furrow as he dug for answers.

"Feliciano as a means of communication. Yes, Alfred, I like that. Good boy."

…

Alfred couldn't think. He could feel the thoughts scatter away from him like marbles, ones he was constantly tripping over himself trying to capture, marbles covered in butter. Other thoughts kept interrupting on everything, stupid thoughts that made him hesitate and worry about instead.

When the doctor asked about Matthew, Alfred found himself wondering about Matt, where he was, if he missed Alfred, what he was doing with all of Alfred's stuff, how Dad and Papa were, how Matthew was, if he was still mad at Alfred, and Alfred found himself unable to remember Matthew's number when he tried to call, which just sent his mind spiraling more because what if Matthew had died of carbon monoxide poisoning, it was Alfred who had always checked the alarms and changed the batteries, how the apartment was, how Matthew was paying rent without Alfred's contribution and on and on and on and if Matt was mad at Alfred.

When Feli started avoiding him for whatever reason, Alfred's mind got on about that. Why was Feli avoiding him? It hardly seemed fair and Alfred hadn't even done anything besides out the obvious, so now Alfred watched Feli eat alone like a loser and Feli avoided looking at him and he got quiet and it was just such bullshit that Alfred couldn't comprehend it.

And Ivan. Alfred found Ivan plaguing Alfred's train of thought like a bandit. He had been ordered to be here, what could that fascinating thing mean, and did it have to do with the books Ivan read. He had touched Alfred's elbow and his back and had called Alfred a good boy, and he was always there to suggest something that Alfred hadn't even considered, make Alfred's mind reel with the possibilities and he seemed to like doing it, and he caught Ivan looking at him, head tilted and Alfred needed to figure out who was trying to get a message to him.

During movie nights, Alfred pressed his knee against Ivan's and watched Ivan pretend to ignore him.

Alfred changed in front of Ivan after his showers, dripping wet and slick, humming like he wasn't aware he was doing it, and he reveled in the eyes Ivan had for him.

But.

He needed to get his mind back on topic. He couldn't think. And there was something up with the brownie—

"For the love of God, Alfred, stop with the brownie."

-and so Alfred had a plan. Alfred had big tonsils. When he was younger, he would stare at himself in the mirror, examining his eyes and his eyebrows and his hair and his teeth and the thing that dangled from the back of his throat and his tonsils. He had forced Mathew's mouth open (and nearly gotten a finger chomped off for his trouble) to compare, and Alfred's tonsils were much, much bigger.

"I hardly see what this has to do with the brownie, or more importantly, what this has to do with your special message." Ivan was pretending to read, like he did when Alfred told him his plans.

The next morning, waiting for his meds, Alfred pretended to swallow them as the nurse checked his cheeks and tongue and cheeks, but in reality they were resting on his tonsils. If he flexed his throat right, his tonsils stuck out, catching the pills like a net catching litter from his stream of thought.

Alfred waited for the nurse to move off, and then coughed up the pills into palm of his hand grinned at Ivan.

Ivan looked at the pills. "That was disgusting," he said mildly. "But clever."

"Of course it was clever. I'm clever. Now," Alfred said, flicking the pills through the heating vent, "I can think again."

"And what a delight that will be."

Alfred grinned.

…

Ordered to be here.

Alfred watched Ivan's sleeping form as the words ran over and over again in his head. Ordered to be here by who?

Someone stalked by the doorframe and Alfred watched them without his glasses on and in a half-haze of exhaustion and his mind couldn't connect the two pieces because that nurse was familiar, wasn't he, Alfred had seen him before, he knew it, he knew it.

…

It was like Alfred had downed energy drinks, he felt like he was on top of the world, a map spread before him and he could freely wander around it and no Feli, he wasn't hyper today, this was how he always was, it's just that Feli didn't notice things like Alfred did, not that it's a bad thing.

Well, Feli, it was simple really. Remember the brownie, it was apart of something bigger, something Feli hadn't realized before. It was a test, test for Alfred, to check how with it he was, if he was still trusting the pills they gave out—not that he wasn't taking them—but it had to do with the management. Did you ever notice how everything is locked around here, no, probably not, but the only way in and out: locked. The nurse's station: locked. Certain rooms, random rooms, one where Alfred had gotten his blood tested: locked. It didn't make sense because Alfred wasn't a threat to anyone.

It was the doctor. The head doctor, the one who ran everything—no, Feli, he isn't nice—well, if he was nice, that was just a ploy to get people to trust him. Clearly, he wasn't a good guy. That was the only thing that made sense to Alfred, that he was keeping people here against their will. People like Alfred, who shouldn't be here, and Ivan, who was ordered to be here, people like Feli who couldn't do much, even if he wanted to.

"Really?" Ivan asked. "Why would he want to keep people here?"

Well, that was simple, wasn't it? Doctors had egos, everyone knew that, almost as bad as ER nurses, and they liked to flex them. So when doctors like…

"Dr. Väinämöinen."

Right, yes, Dr. V, got some people who were misunderstood, it made him feel like he had a big dick to keep Alfred here, the fucker. But he wasn't completely evil, he just wanted to see if you were smarter than him, if you could solve his puzzles, catch his clues, he would let you go. Shit like the brownie.

"You are obsessed with this brownie."

It's all apart of the puzzle, Ivan.

And it made sense, too, that fucker was condescending as fuck, broke trust constantly, didn't give a fuck about doctor-patient confidentiality, flagrantly threw his weight around by ordering bullshit prescriptions, ignored complaints, and was generally just a giant cock.

…

There was something new in his box, something that shouldn't be there, something sharp. It was a box cutter, at the very bottom, hidden under a broken gyroscope and old thermometer, one Alfred had never seen before in his life, with a fresh, crisp blade, one that fit into his palm like it had been molded to.

…

There was something higher than the doctor, Ivan. The doctor must have a boss, right? Someone who looked into the workings of this whole fucking locked loop and laughed about it. This higher-someone knew about the doctor and knew about Alfred, had seen him in the ER, had picked him for this game. This higher-someone, that's who was—

"Alfred." Ivan's breath was hot against Alfred's neck and his toes were cold against Alfred's legs. "It's too late for this."

"But you believe me." Alfred rolled his head to look at Ivan, searching his face in the gloom. "This person, they're the one who ordered you to be here, right? You're a spy, you're someone who reports back to him, aren't you?" Alfred looked for a confirmation in a movement of Ivan's face.

Ivan reached a hand up and ran a finger along Alfred's jawline.

And there were two sections, one working for the doctor and one working for the higher person—

"The General?"

Yes, the General, some were working for him, some for the doctor, and the one working for the General, they were the one sending messages to Alfred, they were the ones who wanted to get him and Ivan out, Alfred had figured it out, didn't Ivan see, it was so simple, Alfred felt like an idiot for not seeing it soon—

"Do you know all those books I read, Alfred?"

Yes—

"I would burn all those books just to listen to you talk for ten minutes."

"Ten?"

Ivan let out a sigh and bit Alfred gently on the shoulder, then kissed him in the same spot, lightly, Alfred barely felt his lips there, light as a snowflake melting. "Five, even. But it is late, and the guards will change shifts soon."

Ivan stood and retreated to his bed and left Alfred aching after cold toes.

Alfred knew what he had to do.

…

"I want to talk," Alfred said.

The doctor looked at him with interest. "That's what I'm here for, after all."

No, Alfred was going to speak and the doctor was going to listen, and then he was going to decide. Alfred wasn't stupid, he had figured out what was going on around here. It hadn't been easy, but it made sense now, the pills, the wrongful imprisonment—

No, doctor, Alfred was going to speak first.

The wrongful imprisonment, the hints, the little things, the brownie, the gift someone had sent him, Mattie turning his back on Alfred, all these had melded into a perfect picture of what was going on around here.

And, Alfred spoke louder for the microphones no doubt planted around the room, he had figured out what the General was asking him to do. But Alfred was going to give the doctor a choice first, because Alfred was a good guy. Now, the good doctor could either let Alfred go and explain to Matthew that this whole thing was a mistake, could release Ivan and stop playing this demented game—let everyone go who didn't deserve to be here, or the doctor would see exactly what the General had planned for him.

No, answer the question first.

Answer the question.

Alright, fine, if that's how he wanted to do things. And so Alfred stood and showed him the gift the General had sent him.

The doctor stood immediately but his feet got caught up in the chair and he half fell on his desk, papers—Alfred's paper, papers that tracked his progress at the games and notes to the General—slid from the folder to the floor and Alfred had made it around the edge of the desk and the doctor was looking up at him with wide eyes and Alfred raised the gift and Alfred brought the gift down but the doctor had been raising his hands and Alfred's gift came down there instead of—instead of—

And now the doctor was bleeding and yelling and there was so much blood, dripping down his arms and off his elbows and falling to the ground and getting on those white notes and he shied away from Alfred and the doctor's feet finally came free of the chair and he slumped against the wall looking at his ruined palms and another fresh wave of blood seeped down his arms and Alfred suddenly didn't know what the General wanted now and he backed away and he looked around for the cameras and he told the doctor:

"I want to leave now."

The doctor nodded at him. "Alright, Alfred." His voice was small and scared but his face was composed even as he held his hands uselessly in front of him, and Alfred could see he had gotten him in between the thumb and the pointer finger and his thumb hung down at an odd angle that made Alfred's stomach turn.

And then a nurse burst into the room and Alfred was slammed into the ground and he was sorry, he didn't mean to, he got it wrong, he was sorry, he didn't want to hurt anyone he just wanted to go, please let him go home please please please

[hakuteeth]

Harry Styles and the Concept of Gender

I have a lot of thoughts and I wanted a place to lay them all out so I’m sorry this is gonna be probably indecipherable but disclaimer I’m not saying harry is a gender he’s not this is just really exploring the concept of freedom with or without gender and expression of oneself thru clothes not so much about identity but the wider concept of the binary based around my own interpretations of it. A femme take on femininity thru a white man’s exploration of gender if u will so if u dont like that i dont care

also.... ive never taken a queer studies class but I love sociology so..... all these connections I make are from my own knowledge and arent meant to box harry in...

Gender defined from a sociological standpoint is based around how we behave and what actions we are expected to perform and for the most part a little give and take people can stick within this binary as it can be safe and comfortable and black and white. What’s interesting is when people step outside the norm and are more willing to explore that grey area that most people simply dont understand. This is interesting because it extends beyond clothing or makeup as most people don’t realize a man wearing makeup does not subvert gender because the gender binary is also inherently shackled to the concept of heteronormativity just as a woman completes a man, the soft counterpart to his masculine ways. 

Harry Styles and the concept of gender started for me with a dress. It never quite occurred to me that harry would wear a dress and reading the rolling stone article that harry had worn or would ever wear something quite as feminine as that. I think for a lot of people solo Harry Styles was a strange and beautiful uncharted territory of course many people came to suspect the new age rock n roll harry had to usher in but what’s fun is not so much deconstructing Harry as a soft rockstar but the idea that Harry has a femininity to him something I never saw until I noticed it everywhere in his clothing and even more interesting his actions.

The most interesting thing is Harry doesn’t quite believe in a gender binary when it comes to fashion possibly attributed to Alessandro Michele’s take on gender or perhaps the work of a really good stylist but I think if anything Harry also believes in that mission that gender could be redefined within the confines of fashion.

Harris Reed described his vision and Harry ended up wearing five different looks on his world tour introducing a student and relatively unknown LGBT designer to the masses and Harris has went on to say that Harry completely understood the connection clothing gender and sexuality have all shared since the dawn of fabric and it’s interesting when one also thinks about the time and effort this collaboration took considering Harris designed all these looks himself over a very short period of time. Harry wasn’t looking for somebody to dress him as what we normally see male popstars wear onstage, he was looking for a risk.

Gender like most things is more complicated than somebody might think. It extends beyond putting on a funky print before leaving the house it’s about the mannerisms, the actions, the behavior of the individual and the overall societal imprint. And Harry’s always been a bit softer than most. He’s always displayed his self as overwhelmingly kind to the point it makes my teeth hurt sometimes and he’s never overbearing. He’s quite quiet and subtle for somebody who can wear a loud pink custom gucci suit. 

Since 2013 he never shied away from looking or being a bit more feminine and he’s always exuded this calming energy or at least I believe if he had an aura it would definitely be soft pink. During his 2018 tour, every night he would tell fans that they were allowed to be whoever they wanted be in that room and it was all about fostering this environment where crying is manly and babies could choose their own gender  (which he said twice on tour). Also something that sticks out quite vividly is when a fan told him his mermaid has saggy boobs and he replied that everybody should love themselves. 

“We are men!” Then he prances away. That’s always how I picture Harry now him using his kilt to curtsey or him twirling like a ballerina on a football pitch. The concept of gender has extended more beyond fashion and into comfortability but also exploring what somebody may not be comfortable with at first but finding they quite like it. 

When men wear nail polish or when you gift your boyfriend flowers for valentines day. It all lies inside the confines of gender. Subverting gender doesnt mean men should wear makeup but it encompasses a vast majority of actions AND behavior or as I like to call it being a bit softer than most. Men have a tendency to bathe themselves in aggression and to assert their dominance and I’m not saying Harry can’t be masculine as well. One of his favorite hobbies is boxing but even then I’d argue that’s less about aggression and more about control and analytical power where taking down an opponent requires more than brute strength.

I believe there’s power in being feminine and there’s power in owning yourself, 100%, and what’s interesting is Harry is the one who taught me that. I think a lot of people see Harry as this mysterious figure and while he is more private than some people would like I also think he’s shown us a lot about himself and it all depends on us to draw our own conclusions. The thing is I don’t like Harry cause I think he subverts gender or I think he’s feminine. I like him cause he’s authentically himself without any concern for others and he’s different. I’m not a man I present as a woman so I’m subjected to an oppressive environment. I am wary at people who are unwilling to learn who are afraid of stepping outside the box ANY box and hold themselves so tight they can barely move. I see Harry as somebody who moves freely.

I could make an entire essay on Harry and the concept of heteronormativity but I’m going to stick with toeing the line on gender for right now but I do believe a lot can be said for cis heterosexuality and attending a harry styles concert. It felt a bit like a pride parade which was interesting how somebody who essentially had for years this show of heterosexuality somehow ended up being followed by lesbians and bisexual women as well as many gay and trans men fans. 

Well it’s not that hard to see. Harry’s concerts are more celebrations of being yourself and I’ve never seen Harry ever discourage that or shy away from defending his fans to him we are a group of strong men and women and girls are the future. Once again bringing the concept back to the gender binary, girls can do anything despite being told they are only good at some things.

I don’t think this vision of Harry is a product of fan pressure. I think Harry genuinely supports things like LGBT rights and I think he believes in it just as much as we do I can’t ever imagine him not doing so. He made pride merch and wasn’t getting a cent of it because it was all donated to an LGBT charity to benefit youth in schools. If we’re talking in the ways in which Harry explores gender the number 1 community for that has always been the LGBT community historically we tend to fuck around with the concept of gender so it’s not surprise to me that’s a community Harry advocates for. 

Harry’s solo career from the beginning has been about reinventing masculinity. He wore a women’s suit for his album photoshoot and bathed in flowers and pink lemonade for his album cover and though his album had some rock n roll tropes he’s never shied away from talking about women’s rights or lgbt rights. And even within One Direction Harry never felt like just another man to me. He’s somebody special. Not afraid of vulnerability, not afraid of being called gay, not afraid of expressing who he is thru clothing. 

To me it’s always felt like Harry wanted people to know this is who I am you can take me or leave me. Harry I feel is somebody willing to take risks putting himself in a dress in a booklet as tour merch. Saying we’re all a little bit gay on tour. Like moths to a flame outsiders are drawn to him at least I was. 

To me Harry Styles is carving out a place for himself in a world that can be very rigid. Harry isn’t following anybody’s path but his own setting out to reinvent rock n roll and always and forever being a bit softer than most. It’s an admirable trait in a world that has become quite scary as of late. 

[thedeadflag]

Hey, pretty soon I'll be playing a friend of mine is gonna be DMing Tyranny Of Dragons for me and a couple of friends, and I can't decide whether I should play a Monk (probably Open Hand, maybe Kensei) or a Ranger (either Beastmaster or Horizon Walker), 'cause I've never played either of those classes, nor has anyone at the tables I've played. Can you tell me a little about your experiences with these classes?

The Ranger has been one of my favourite classes throughout the editions of D&D in terms of flavour, and I’ve had some fun with monks as well. In 5th edition, both took a fair bit of a hit in utility (individual and within group dynamics) and power at pretty much all ranges. The Ranger was propped back up a little bit in Unearthed Arcana in the revised ranger archetype, but both are still largely considered at best middle of the road classes, and at worst, the lowest tier of classes in the game in utility and character. 

That’s not to say they can’t be fun and have a lot of flavour, and still find use. If you’ve watched Critical Role, you can see Vex and Beau weren’t useless by any stretch. No class is junk in 5e due to the improved parity compared to some past editions. So power and utility aside, if you feel drawn to any class/subclass, and you want to dive into its particular brand of flavour, then I say go for it. I would gauge the rest of the party’s makeup in making your decision, because group synergy is important, but you have to make yourself happy, too, right?

Anywho, I’ll break down my take on both.

When it comes to Monks, I like Open Hand the best. If you want to have a Monk-style gameplay with weapons, then Mystic or Fighter are probably better options with some more flair and utility involved than Kensei imo, but if that’s the route you want to take, it’d be alright. However, Open Hand has quivering palm, which is pretty incredible late game as far as damage and flexible timing from a single person through 3 ki pts and an action. If you do ever reach level 17, I would recommend multiclassing after that if you’re allowed, since the rest of the Monk’s class progression is kind of junk in comparison, and it could use some much needed utility from 3 levels of another class. Anywho, I like open hand not just for the flavor of being a class that’s capable of being an unarmed beast in battle, but also because of the way it can work in alignment with fighters who can also control the battlefield, like any fighter with a sentinel/polearm master. The ability to shove an enemy up to 15ft with one of your flurry attacks, launching them into the range of a fighter who gets a free opp attack against them and can from then on lock down their movement with a successful hit? That can be an excellent tag team. The Monk isn’t excellent for utility, but the Open Hand technique is probably the best at providing utility in combat among all the monk disciplines. Like, another option after hitting with flurry of blows is to steal all reactions for the opponent until the end of your next turn. This can be especially helpful against casters, as stealing reactions = preventing counterspells. And Monks can get a lot of attacks = lots of attempts to disrupt concentration of enemy casters, so the open hand monk is especially helpful at being a designated mage wrecker with having the mobility to reach casters and the ability to destabilize them. It’s arguably the one thing (aside from unarmed damage) that (this one kind of) monks do better than just about anyone else, arguably.

Now, to Rangers.

Honestly, I don’t like beast-focused Rangers. I think they’re a lot of work in order to get the mechanical payoff most other classes can achieve without a lot of thought or effort. Generally, any class that can let me focus more on flavour and RP is one I’m going to prefer, and beast master’s just…unwieldy. A lot of people say the class is junk, and if you run it without getting into the headspace for optimizing, it’s probably going to be more of a frustrating experience than you’d have hoped for. With BMs, you’re managing not just your character, but your companion, and you have to keep up with the different mechanics of both, you need to be 100% on top of choices made while leveling up, you need to have a strong understanding of battlefield control and your companion’s capabilities from the get go, and you really ought to be the kind of player who is happy to take a backseat to everyone else in and out of combat because the way you’ll shine is by helping everyone else do what they do with a little bit higher odds of success than otherwise. Personally, I like playing that sort of character, but I can do all of that with other classes a lot easier, and usually better, so this isn’t the kind of archetype I’d choose for a character myself. If you really want to, and think it’s cool, go for it, though.

The first thing I’d do is ask if you can use the UA revised ranger instead of the PHB ranger if you’re going the beast route (it’s “beast conclave” archetype in UA). If your DM allows that and insists you choose your companion from the list provided here, take the wolf (pack tactics is v helpful, same with 40ft speed and being able to send enemies prone after attacking) or ape (climb 30ft, melee/ranged ability, good stat baselines). 

The second thing you’ll need is to lock down a quality companion, and that can take a bit of wheeling and dealing with your DM to let you use one of the supplementary books as a source, which is especially necessary if you’re not able to use the revised ranger class from UA. You do not want a hawk, mastiff, or panther, the PHB offers some shit examples out of the gate (panther and hawk are only conditionally good if you’re only ever going to have your companion rushing around the map using the ‘help’ action, or scouting to some extent, and the latter becomes less useful and reliable the higher level you become). Don’t choose a CR 0 companion, or one under ¼. If you absolutely must use a hawk for character flavor, then a blood hawk that at least has pack tactics would be a must. But if you are hoping for a companion that can do damage, look for something with certain damage if it hits, like added poison damage. Look for good AC if you want a tank. Look for versatility in mobility and senses. Look for special abilities (the boar having a relentless ability where it’ll go back to 1HP if it falls below 0; the wolf spider has web walk and web sense which can really help with casters using web if players don’t want to wade into the difficult terrain or are having difficulty finding enemies caught in the web; etc.)

But yeah, beast-focused rangers  will be best when they’re spamming the help action with their beasts, using their beasts to get enemies out of cover, using their beasts to help control the field and give others advantage/take advantage, etc. You need to be quick mentally to know what you want to do with your character and your companion each time your turn comes around (most DMs, myself included, aren’t going to let you have as much time as you need to figure out what you want to do on both fronts, so if you can’t juggle two characters at once without losing a step, it might not be the archetype for you). This type of ranger requires you to know exactly what you want to be able to accomplish for yourself and your party right out of the gate, so you’ll want to gauge what your party members will be specializing in, what they want to be able to do, and see if there’s a way to shape your ranger to aid in that, particularly in choosing a beast that can be the most effective in ensuring that. Group cohesion is the name of the game with this form of ranger, so you’ll want to consider race selection a part of this process, too. I’ve had one player bomb hard as a BM and re-roll a different ranger, and I’ve had a friend who ran one who was the group’s unsung hero a lot of the time during their campaign. If you’re looking at Vex from CR as inspiration, keep in mind she had an excellent set of stats from lvl 9 onwards, and plenty of magical weapons to make up for much of any class shortcomings as characters scale up…look at how often Trinket was useful (very rarely) and understand that the bear was essentially just flavour for most of the campaign, and Vex would have been considerable underpowered compared to the rest of the party if not for some considerable DM intervention in ways that make things a lot trickier for DMs (adding magical weapons/items can easily unbalance a campaign, and it’s a matter of experience in knowing how to dole them out without throwing balance aside…Matt Mercer’s comfortable handing out flying carpets and multiple +2AC items  and superpowered magical weapons by level 9, I wouldn’t give them out before level 14 or 15 and it would really only be if a player was severely struggling and refused to re-roll a more appropriate character while dying or nearly dying most combats). Other classes and archetypes have features and abilities that scale as you level, some earn specific spells as they level up that others can’t get, etc., but with beast conclave rangers, it’s their beast that slightly improves in a few meaningful ways. So if you’re going that route, you need to commit to a great beasts that’s a great fit for you and your party, and you need to commit to making the absolute most out of them and knowing how to make the most out of them.

Horizon Walker’s a simpler archetype that has some badass spells, but the flavour for the class can be a bit…strange in some adventures. It might not fit well with Tyranny of Dragons, I’m not sure how much planar travel’s involved in that adventure. Which might not be a problem for the DM, or you. I still prefer the UA ranger conclaves, but out of the PHB ones, this one’s probably the best of the bunch, even if it’s mostly going to lean towards being a melee build (which, again, check your party comp to see if that’s something that is workable). 

Anywho, those are my late night D&D ramblings. You can take my words with a grain of salt if you’d like, and as always the rule of cool applies…if you think it’s cool and you really want to go with something, go for it and I hope the DM will find a way to help you make it work, but yeah, these classes can be a bit of an uphill battle, though I suppose potentially a rewarding challenge if that’s what you’re looking for.

Best of luck with the campaign, I’m sure you’ll have fun! 

[andtheserpentsays]

Where You Are - ChevLotte

Collection of sequenced drabbles, bridging the gap between S2 and S3 and exploring how their friendship developed.  I’ve written SO many of these, but they’re kind of different to what I’d do normally, so.. ?  Let me know if there’s any interest in the rest of them.  

Notes: There’s mentions of drinking whilst pregnant, because we’re talking about a time when champagne treated morning sickness...  Also, historical Liselotte was brutally unkind about Maintenon in her letters, so bear that in mind.

Where You Are

i.

‘You just need to get to know him.’

Phillipe had repeated the phrase to her endlessly, and previously Liselotte had wondered how on earth you were meant to get to know somebody who prickled up faster than a surprised hedgehog.  But it was clear that Phillipe loved this man a great deal, and she couldn’t think of a more glowing character reference than that.  So she resolved to try.

As they had watched Phillipe walk out of their lives, Liselotte felt his hand return her squeeze and she knew then that there was hope.  

ii.

The first week after Phillipe’s departure had perhaps been the hardest, and they had both struggled with his absence. The Chevalier hovered at the edge of her life, like he was helplessly drawn to the places that belonged to Phillipe even though he wasn’t in them.

Before the end of the second day Liselotte had already written him three letters. She found herself asking the Chevalier if he wanted to add anything to her latest, but he didn’t move from the sofa he’d been occupying for most of the afternoon. ‘I’ll write my own, thank you.’

‘Well, come on then.’ She swirled her signature before pulling out a fresh sheet of paper. She rose from her desk, waving him towards it as she blew on the damp ink of her letter. ‘They can go with the same rider.’

To her delight, he did as he was told. Liselotte watched him write from her bed, and couldn’t help but wonder what he had to say.

iii.

The truth was, they didn’t really have anybody else.  The two of them may as well have been alone at Versailles: so they continued to gravitate towards each other, either in Phillipe’s rooms or in her own.  

She had gone to Phillipe’s apartments one evening after dinner, on the hunt for a particular book.  Liselotte found the Chevalier flopped back on his bed staring at the canopy, and her eyes were drawn to the dark, smooth lines of a waistcoat she recognised as Phillipe’s.

He huffed out a laugh when she asked what he was doing.  ‘I found myself choosing what he should wear for dinner.  I think I am going mad.’  

His tone was flippant but it made Liselotte’s heart ache, and she wondered how many times he found himself here.  

‘Well if you feel your talents are wasted, there’s always my wardrobe. Lord knows I need the help.’

With that appeal to his vanity her toe was in the door, and she couldn’t help but feel pleased with herself when he’d agreed.  She soon found there was no true malice in his bluster and that he actually seemed to take great pride in making her look.. presentable.  A new lady made her way into her entourage, poached from somebody else no doubt, and she heard a glowing report on her talent for styling hair.

It became the first of many routines they would share: the Chevalier was there without fail, dressing her for the mornings, for the salon in the afternoon and the evening tables.  

iv.

As the infant grew, Liselotte had quite loudly refused to cave in to the popular fashion for disguising her changing shape.  She’d argued with her ladies, pointing out that people had been so interested in Phillipe performing that she wasn’t about to disguise the results of his efforts.  Montespan could keep her battantes, Liselotte had nothing to hide.

One afternoon she returned from the garden to find an unfamiliar girl in her rooms, hunched over one of her dresses in the light of the window.  Liselotte didn’t get a chance to question her, as the Chevalier spoke up from a sofa.

‘She’s adding panels, for the baby.  They can be taken out again afterwards if you want.’

‘You are.. a marvel.’

He chose her evening’s ensemble from one of her newly amended pieces, only today he didn’t leave once his decisions had been made. Instead the Chevalier lingered in her day room, and once dressed she found him there, nosing through various things on her table without an ounce of shame.   He gave her a brief once-over before tucking her hand into his arm.  

‘Come on then, or we shall be late.’

‘We? We’re going.. together?’

‘You can go on your own if you like.’  Her fingers were already slipping from the crook of his elbow, and Liselotte tugged him back to her which was apparently a satisfactory response.

If he noticed the raised eyebrows they met on their way he didn’t comment, and it was hard to tell what they were more surprised by: their pairing, or the perfect bump that was really very obvious.  For once Liselotte enjoyed her scandal, and let him seat her at a table before joining her.  He proved to be a magnificent accomplice when it came to fleecing their companions.  She showed him her aunt’s preferred method for cheating and he taught her a quinze drinking game of Phillipe’s invention.  

They awoke the next morning in Phillipe’s bed fully dressed, right down to their shoes and her hairpins.  Even in their stupor they’d gravitated towards him.  

Liselotte had needed his full assistance to heave herself out of the bed, and was unashamed as he helped unlace her bodice to give her pregnancy bump more room to breathe.  The expression on the faces of her ladies as the Chevalier returned her to her own rooms had almost been worth the headache.  

v.

Liselotte’s unborn infant was beginning to try and make his presence known, especially when she was either trying to sleep or make conversation. Or breathe, it seemed.  She tried not to consider that this could signal her impending confinement, and instead tried to guess whether she was being elbowed or kicked.

‘You must come and feel it.’  Maybe that was a headbutt?

‘Oh no, my dear.  I shall just believe you.’

‘No, come on.  Phillipe isn’t here, you’ll have to do this for him.’ She held her hand out and waited.  She didn’t say anything when he huffed a sigh but she knew that the tutting sound as he sat beside her was for dramatic effect.  Liselotte arranged his palm carefully, pressing it beneath her own as they waited.  The Chevalier’s patience was as short as she expected.

‘I can’t feel-’  He had barely begun to speak when her baby lurched, and a limb (definitely an elbow) made itself known.  Liselotte smiled and squeezed the hand under her own.  

‘See, he knows you.  Already can’t let down his Uncle Phillipe.’

The punch line of ‘like his father’ hung between them, but neither voiced it.  Phillipe had once felt like he was the literal stitching holding them both together, but Liselotte was not ashamed to admit that she had now claimed a piece of the Chevalier all to herself. And she was rather fond of it.

vi.

The sun had barely set on the first day of Liselotte’s confinement, and she was already convinced she was going to perish from the boredom of it all.  She had secretly hoped to have been allowed a modicum of freedom, especially considering her husband wasn’t here to boss her about.  Sadly Liselotte had forgotten quite how meddlesome her brother-in-law could be.

‘Sister, I insist.’  Louis had grasped her hands tightly, and deployed his most earnest of gazes.  ‘My brother would never forgive me, it is my duty to ensure you and your baby are safe.’

The Chevalier did not disguise his noise of disgust at the words.  He’d had his fill of the Bourbon brothers and their ‘duty’ lately, and it caused only the briefest of flickers in Louis’ expression.

‘I understand, truly.’ She gently, but firmly, extricated her hand from his grasp and patted his sleeve.  ‘But surely, there’d be no harm in pottering around the gardens once or twice?’

Judging by the look on his face (the king’s face, she reminded herself), there apparently was.

And so she had just passed a thrilling day of staring at her own feet over the bump of her nightgown, and half wondering if anybody would come and see her.  Liselotte was especially disappointed that the Chevalier hadn’t shown his face yet.  It would be frowned upon, after all, so an illegal visit should have been right up his street.

Her hopes were dashed when the door creaked open only to have Maintenon appear.  Liselotte wondered if going mad from loneliness might not be so bad, especially when she suspected she was probably snooping on her behaviour for the king.

‘He’s under the bed.’

‘I’m sure I don’t understand.’

‘The Chevalier, he’s under the bed.’  

Her eyebrows had promptly shot to the top of her rather smug forehead. Liselotte made a great point of saying nothing further for a long time, instead choosing a single grape with great care before changing the subject.  Watching Maintenon resist the urge to clamber to the floor and look under the bed, whilst maintaining polite conversation, was the most fun she’d had in a while.

vii. The next afternoon, after another morning of toe inspection and intense hair brushing, one of her ladies scurried in with a tiny, well-folded note.  She’d thrust it into Liselotte’s hand as if it was on fire, curtsied, and then escaped.

As she unfolded it Liselotte instantly recognised the Chevalier’s immaculate penmanship, and made a mental note to ask him what notes he’d made the poor girl carry before.

‘My dear, I’m so terribly bored.  Have you produced a son yet?  Nobody at the tables has the slightest idea how to cheat properly, I think I’m going to go mad.’

‘Oh, I’m fine, thank you for asking.’  

‘The uncle is a snooper.  I’m going to give the old drab another day before she gets bored, then I shall come liberate you.’

Liselotte crushed the letter in her hands and smiled.

viii.

The Chevalier was correct in his suspicions.  Madame de Maintenon endured only one further day of Liselotte’s teasing before she failed to reappear, and the Chevalier swept into her dim chamber in the hour before dinner.  At least she thought that’s what the hour was, it was getting difficult to tell.

‘Goodness, it’s like a crypt in here.’

‘I hadn’t noticed.’

He took a moment to toe off his shoes before coming to sit on the bed beside her.  ‘I brought you a gift.  Something you should most definitely not be reading, rather excitable.’  He tossed it into her waiting hands.  ‘Particularly after chapter five.’

There was also a deck of playing cards that he had smuggled.  One of his own marked decks she was certain, but Liselotte was not in a position to be choosy.  She couldn’t help but smile, turning her face to him like he’d hung the moon.

‘Thank you.’