#without really weaving in the theme of ‘what’s the purpose of life’

[devdirt]

Hollow Knight vs. Vivziepop character design language

I know it's kind of a wildcard comparison but Vivziepop is a fan of Hollow Knight and its designs. I wanted to explore how shape language, color usage and storytelling in design are used in both properties.

NPC designs do a great job at telling you the character's personality or occupation without being overly detailed. One well placed trait does wonders, like Cornifer with his bundles of maps or Tuk and her hoarding, scrap salvaging hobbies. Paired with the world it tells two people doing their best to survive their dying realm, one by mapping out the twists and turns and the other by scraping up whatever she can find from abandoned civilization.

Now when we look at visual storytelling in Hazbin there are some good details! Alastor's outfit design and trademark microphone give you old timey host vibes right away. Niffty (my angel) sports a poodle skirt, kerchief around her neck and apron, also telling you her occupation and time period she's likely from. Everyone in this show has a big toothy grin but hers plays well into her hyperactive and always happy personality.

But there are also really poor moments of character storytelling. Everything about Beelzebub has already been said. She doesn't read as gluttony, she doesn't read as a bee, and she doesn't read as an animal tamer. When I look at her I see every other wolf character Viv has ever done. If Jayjay is party wolf and Loona is goth wolf then Beelzebub is lava lamp wolf.

The sins are mostly misses for me. They don't read as their sins or their circus related occupations. Asmodeus has fire powers but doesn't read as fire spinner. Mammon doesn't give off greed at ALL but the jester look works (which is also wrong because he's a CLOWN apparently, not a jester.) And don't get me started on this one.

This is not Lucifer.

Nothing about this reads angel, devil or even pride. This design goes all in on the ringmaster design, which is great for the circus theme! But the apple on the hat is the closest we get to this being Lucifer. I didn't even notice the snake on his hat because it looks like a worm for the apple, and they both cover the crown.

Add a second apple on the cane. Okay, so we know for sure this is supposed to be Lucifer but...why? It's another Beelzebub moment where you're left wondering why the design went in this direction. "Apple" shouldn't be the only giveaway here for the most important man in the world these stories are being told in.

Now let's see the celestial leader of Hollow Knight.

That is a god.

Removing all story context, this is incredibly quick to read. Large wings, all white, glowing yellow eyes and a crown. It looks celestial and it doesn't even need color, which is the point!

Now lets view them both within their stories. Is there visual storytelling when compared to other characters and the world around then?

Hollownest is a dark world where every character is dully colored. The Radiance and her power stick out with a glow, juxtaposing themselves with the dark as the light.

Lucifer does not look any different than most of the Hazbin cast. He has all the red, the same sharp toothed grin, the same body type as 90% of the cast of both Hazbin and Helluva Boss. If you lined him up with everyone else somebody like Asmodeus would be chosen as the obvious leader of Hell with his stature and power in the design alone.

Simplicity can tell an entire story while overextending your designs can muddy it.

Hollow Knight relies on few details and minimal storytelling yet it weaves a tale of an usurped kingdom and a god fighting for revenge. You are void, the world is dull, and god is bright and beautiful and terrifying to your way of life.

Vivziepop wants to weave a complex tale but utterly fails to do so with her designs. I purposely did not bring up Cherri Bomb, Sir Pentious or Stolas' designs since they have elements that were taken from other people and properties. I wanted to focus on what she made with her own hands, and when I narrow it down I do not see the story being told or even what side some characters are supposed to be on. Adam and the exterminators look the same as any demon. The leaders of Hell mostly sink into the ocean of overdone details. When everybody is trying so hard to stand out nobody stands out.

[ddarker-dreams]

Calcified Cage.

Yan Bucciarati x F Reader x Yan Fugo.

A glimpse into a "bad end" from Scarlet Ribbons.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, implied power imbalance. Word count: 1.5k.

Pannacotta Fugo knew on an intrinsic level that nothing good was to come from this private meeting with Bucciarati. 

For someone who prefers to make judgments on empirical merit, this odd bout of premonition felt uncharacteristic, further adding to his unease. For all intents and purposes, it shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. Bucciarati often consulted him in private over various Passione concerns. 

In private, yes, but never in the total seclusion of his humble home along Napoli’s outskirts. 

Fugo can count the number of times he’s been here on one hand. Normally, if Bruno needed to discuss an issue with Fugo, he’d ask him to stay behind after the gang finished eating their meal at Libeccio. The mixing of business and home life is considered taboo in this profession. Although Bucciarati is a bachelor who lives by himself, Fugo figured that he adhered to this unspoken virtue on principle alone. 

When Fugo finishes reading the letter in his grasp, it’s no longer a mystery why his leader has taken these precautions. The paper trembles like a leaf in the wind, Fugo’s grasp on it weakening. 

“You understand what this means, don’t you?”

Bucciarati’s voice sounds far away, despite his position a few feet across the table. Ringing resounds in Fugo’s ears, quiet at first, yet building in an all-consuming crescendo. The melody it weaves is melancholic at its core. A tragedy cast by the indifferent divine, thrusting him into the spotlight, where he stumbles through his lines as a lead character. 

He has to tell himself to breathe. 

Inhale. 

For if what’s written crawls into reality— 

Exhale. 

—He’ll no longer have a reason to.

Fugo downs a glass of water his host generously had the forethought to provide. His fingers grip the rim tight enough that his knuckles nearly turn as white as his complexion. 

“Are you asking for my legal counsel?” he manages to get out. There’s a rasp in his voice that he can’t hide, regardless of his best efforts. He can feel his collected mask melting from his face like wax on a candle. There won’t be any welding it back into place once it’s gone. It’ll require time to mold one in its predecessor's likeness — time he most certainly doesn’t have.

“No,” Bucciarati gives an answer he somehow already expected. “I want to hear your personal opinion.” 

“My… personal opinion? Is that really necessary?”

“It is.” 

It shouldn’t be. This is about as black and white as a dilemma can get. Trying to mix the colors on a palette to form gray would be impossible; a fool’s wish. The shades are so diametrically opposed that he’d sooner find success in combining oil and water. 

His esophagus burns like he’d just drunk hard liquor instead of water. 

“This is… good,” he fights back a wince at the wooden delivery, “For— for her, I mean.” 

Something tells him that even if he had put on the performance of a lifetime, Bucciarati still wouldn’t have believed him. 

“For her,” Bucciarati echoes dryly.

Fugo inwardly curses his clumsy word choice. There’s no point in concealing his cards, he may as well have just laid them all out for Bucciarati’s viewing pleasure. He loosens his tie. The quiet intensity radiating from Bucciarati is suffocating. He’s reminded then that while he greatly cares for and respects the man sitting across from him, Bruno Bucciarati is, at his core, a mobster. 

And there’s nothing more dangerous than a mobster who feels his family is under threat. 

You are, in essence, the heart of Bucciarati’s ragtag team. 

This letter is proposing to transplant you into another body. An objectively healthier body. 

To do without you would be to live as a dead man walking. 

Fugo feels the phantom pain as if his chest cavity was being split in half by spectral hands. No anesthetic, no scalpel. Just raw, brutish force. Your nonsensical questions he pretends to find irritating are his veins. The blueberry pancakes dutifully arranged in a smiley face on his birthday, the arterioles; how you reach for his hand in crowded areas so as not to get lost, the capillaries. 

You are snowball fights and hot cocoa in the winter, beach trips and shared gelato in the summer. 

(“I can’t ever decide which flavor I want,” you’d lament, wilting all the while. It never took long for you to blossom again. “I know! Fugo, get this flavor, and I’ll get this one. That way I can try both!” 

He’d sigh and pretend to consider it as if he hadn’t made up his mind the second you smiled at him. “Fine. I’d rather not hear you complaining if you ordered something you don’t like, so… just this once.” 

“Just this once,” you repeated. 

He’s never turned down your request in the times you’ve asked since). 

Bucciarati leans back in his seat. He crosses his legs, folds his hands onto his lap, and smiles. Fugo is so put off by this shift in demeanor, the dissonance both perplexing and unsettling him. He sets the damning paper down for the temporary reprieve straightening it out provides. It points west, toward the window behind Bucciarati, where the sun’s final rays for the day crawl through. 

“You love her,” Bucciarati says it as casually as one describing the weather. 

Fugo’s entire body goes numb. 

“... I do.” 

“Do you love her enough to make her hate you?” 

He’s been on the defensive throughout this entire interaction. He’ll allow himself one retort, one provocation. 

“Do you?” 

The softening of Bucciarati’s expression says it all. 

“We shouldn’t be having this conversation if I didn’t.” 

Right. Fugo isn’t sure if this is a conversation so much as it is an interview, his most pivotal test since joining Passione’s ranks. For once, he didn’t need to study. Passing with flying colors isn’t the issue. It’s deciphering the purposefully cryptic manner that Bucciarati has been conducting himself that poses an obstacle. 

However, when he stares into Bucciarati’s resolute eyes, he thinks he might be starting to crack the code. 

The promise he made to himself to reprise his role of an obsequious soldato is broken as easily as it was made. 

“Forgive me for being blunt, Bucciarati,” he means it too, “But what exactly are you getting at here?” 

“I won’t be able to conceal this for long.” 

Nausea swirls inside him and bile claws its way up his throat. He swallows it down, despite how dry his mouth feels. 

“The way I see it, we have two choices,” Bucciarati takes a deep breath. Pausing like this must mean he doesn’t savor the flavor of what he’ll say next. “Her happiness or ours.” 

It’s debt that brought you into Passione and debt that’ll keep you here. Fugo considered how you were taken advantage of in such a desperate position truly unfortunate. Cruel, even. The offer of a loan that’d take considerable financial strain off your family. You didn’t know to look for jargon that’d increase the interest rate to something unholy, Passione was clever like that. 

The worst mistake of your life is what led you to be the best thing in his — and so many others would attest the same.  

However…

You are bright, but even the most radiant light is destined to flicker. 

Living under the same roof as you for two years has taught Fugo much. He sees it, how you hesitate to take the phone when he tells you your parents are on the line. He hears the telling hitch in your voice when you spin another falsehood about why you can’t come home for the holidays again this year. He feels the wetness on your pillowcase when he goes into your room to retrieve a book you borrowed from him. 

Your debt is what shackles you here and this letter is offering to break the chains. 

You've successfully won over many key individuals during your tenure. The would-be benefactor who penned this letter — Signore Conti — had deep influences and even deeper pockets. His wife had taken a particular liking to you during a bodyguard assignment. She must've caught wind of your predicament somehow and beseeched her husband to intervene.

Fugo sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "There's really no other way?"

"I'm open to suggestions, Fugo."

Questioning Bucciarati's resolve is just a weak attempt to stall for time. For Fugo to still be sitting here, even entertaining the possibility of snuffing out your future for the sake of maintaining his, he must've already made up his mind. The mere implication of Bucciarati's designs would've inspired righteous anger in most — not this internal weighing of pros and cons Fugo is neatly arranging on a scale.

"... We'll need to handle this delicately," Fugo says. His stomach feels like it's turning inside out. "We can't outright reject an offer like this from such an influential figure, it'd be considered an insult. Accept it on her behalf. Then... to ensure she can't go anywhere, I'll reach out to our contact in the bank and have her account frozen."

Bucciarati steeples his fingers. "It's a start."

That night, innumerable plans are formed, with you unknowingly starring as the centerpiece.

No matter how cruel, how unfair, it is silently agreed upon that you are their lifeblood, an organ essential to their survival.

And a heart cannot remain in place without the bones that make up its cage.

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Part II of Control vs. Apathy vs. Power Themes

(Really just another attempt at figuring out what drives Rafal part of the time, in the rare, non-ambitious contexts. As always, feel free to disagree with me!)

If anyone is intrigued by the concept of never having been born or the mind being incapable of imagining it, watch this philosophical video. It became a source of inspiration for this and...

Unrelatedly, here was an excerpt I found interesting:

"[Something is] just a symbol and yet it's real. It has real power. How? Where does meaning come from? It only exists because of our imagination. Fantasy is not a supplement to reality. It isn't some extraneous alternative. Fantasy is the only thing that makes it all work. Anything that means anything falls under Lacan's category of the symbolic. A symbol only communicates something properly if you and I agree on what it means."

Aside from the philosophy, a nameless character the video discussed also happened to remind me of the general Rafal vs. identity conflict.

Now, the following post can be considered a continuation of this post and this ask which discusses asceticism/mindset, making this post Part III of this unintended "series."

This post deals also with themes of misanthropy and apathy (similar thought process, of just not caring, delineated in the reblog here and in this ask).

I suppose you could consider the following a web-weave of some form?

I think Rafal oscillates, or more gradually alternates, between states of misanthropy (like: "What's your damage, man?") and apathy (he doesn't seem to (often) feel rage affectively and highly outwardly every time, does he? He does act on feelings though).

What of his is performative? (I've asked this question before. This time, it's in reference to the quote: "The seats are empty. The theatre is dark. Why are you still acting?") Actually, the question of who you are when the lights are off and no one's watching is always a classic, fascinating one, to me. This concept relates to this quote as well:

"Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides." — André Malraux

Anyway, I just have the feeling that if he were in an apathy phase, if someone said, directly to his face, "I hate you," he would respond, for once like an unintentional "pacifist," with something approximately like: "Ok. You're unworthy of my time and I have neither the will nor the patience to deal with you. Goodbye." (This would have to discount the possibility that the person with the utterance could mean something to him, so it couldn't be the Never students as we've seen that play out with Fala's pained moment.)

Potentially, the least weird non-critique I have of Rafal is that he's a stagnant character. And I don't mind it, but the inertia/general "unaliveness" in him is funny when I think about it.

He's not quite allergic to excitement because we saw a bit of his inner life and apathy, and then, in contrast, his appreciation of The Black Rabbit or the understanding(?) and stimulation it brought him, of Evil or Akgul's way of life.

And it's not that he's entirely flat without his Evil tendencies, even if a case could be made. (Counterpoint: Hook sensed something deeper, love, below the "villainous purpose" of Rafal's soul.) But, beyond that, I do think that without his ambition/Evil, he'd be relatively boring and potentially a lackadaisical shut-in? Again, I'm just reminded of his slow heart rate and the purpose Hook felt.

Question: Yet who is he without pawns as his victims and other sources of external conflict?

Potential answer: The Rafal who was or may've been content to simply not attend the Snow Ball at the start (under the assumption of there being no wager), if we were to speculate. (This is partly rhetorical, but I'm open to other takes.)

Because we see his power-hungry side, I'm tempted to say that when we replace that very hunger with control (a poor man's version of power), then we're left with more of a husk of a man, who's more likely to just want a quiet, stable, orderly, and most importantly, autonomous life—away from the School, in Gavaldon—despite the bit of ego he has, still insisting he's deserving of more, of power as well.

When we stop to think about it, his only two "hobbies" are brooding and torture... he's almost entirely defined by his post/role and can barely exist apart from it. He only holds out for six months alone, even if I suspect that with no impetus to return, he could've lasted out there in the world forever, that is, until he canonically seems to panic over his own mortality (and Rhian's) and decides to return posthaste.

Thus, the final question, parallel to the last, that remains is: who is he really when we strip away the worldly (self-imposed?) ambition?

[anhed-nia]

My American craving for mall-strength air conditioning motivated me to go see this movie in the theater, and I am about to spoil it due to my problems.

My main issue with THE LIFE OF CHUCK is that it pulls what I think is a really dirty trick considering These Unprecedented Times in which we live. The first act presents a pretty solid, disturbing apocalypse scenario drawing on all of the elements that contribute to the apocalyptic scenario playing out in real life, right now. This creates a fairly eerie, uncomfortable viewing experience that may be pretentious, but at least it's provocative...up until the dawning realization that this "apocalypse" is only destroying the inner world of a man on his death bed. Speaking as someone who shares the common feeling that I am living through possible end-times right now, this struck me as a particularly gross version of the always-dirty trick of revealing that the movie "was all a dream" -- a strategy that rarely serves a deeper purpose than smugly outsmarting the audience.

THE LIFE OF CHUCK aims to explode the idea of "containing multitudes," lecturing the viewer on how one's mind holds a version of every experience and every person that ever touches them. That's all well and good, but some of the "multitudes" are inevitably missed opportunities and paths not taken, so there's a major theme in play about how you might fail to achieve, or be dissuaded from achieving your dreams -- but that's ok, because within i.e. a mild-mannered bookkeeper there still dwells a gloriously talented dancer who can spontaneously light up even the most hum-drum day for the ordinary people around him. And like, there's nothing wrong with saying that, in and of itself, but I'm often vexed by the problem of how the world certainly needs great art about common men, but great art is necessarily only made by great people. As soon as you're weaving compelling mythology about the little guy, you, personally, cease to be the little guy, and all your poetic waxing about ordinariness starts to feel a little inappropriate.

I think about this conundrum a lot with Stephen King in particular, who famously grew up without a phone or indoor plumbing, and became one of the most outrageously successful writers in history. I always think that his writing is affected by this uncomfortable ambivalence about rural, blue collar people; so often his protagonists are educated men (even writers!), prodigal sons who are somehow antagonized by their rustic origins. From 'Salem's Lot to Misery, country bumpkins are either the butts of jokes, or deadly threats, while in real life King positions himself as a gentle champion of the common man. I don't even mean to suggest that it's wrong of him to feel ambivalent, but I often wonder how aware he is of this inner contradiction, and what he might think about it.

Anyway, the apparent message of THE LIFE OF CHUCK -- that you can still be divinely special even if you give up on your dreams and die young -- may reflect an anxiety that I suspect all successful creatives struggle with, that is something akin to survivor's guilt. I think there may be a Why me?-ness that darkens or destablizes the enjoyment of great achievements. Whenever I see an award ceremony like the Oscars or the Emmys and somebody gets up and profusely thanks God, I often think, sure, some of these guys might be earnestly religious -- but on another level, it may just feel easier to assign credit for your astounding fortune to an incomprehensible cosmic force, than it is to embrace the icky melange of personal responsibility, privilege, and dumb luck that determines one's fate.

[fearhims3lf]

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @amonstrousdream @fearhims3lf

SUMMARY: Late at night, Mateo runs into Leila and decides to cause a little trouble. Little does he know that what he's poking is a fresh wound.

WARNINGS: Car Accident (mention), Child Death (mention), Sibling Death (mention)

There was always something ethereal about visiting the astral. One moment at home, and the next, you're some amorphous being in the middle of sparkling night until you conjure the will necessary to become tangible. Mateo always enjoyed that travel, the moments of silence as he hunted for his food, only occasionally being interrupted by a fellow mare. 

It was rare that Mateo ever bothered to exchange pleasantries, mostly offering an acknowledging grunt, but he spotted someone familiar and couldn't help himself. The woman–Leila, he recalled– who had threatened him all those months ago. A smile painted on his face and he slinked his way to her. 

He wondered if he could instigate a petty squabble, hoping to make himself feel just a little better than he had the last few weeks. Maybe it was pathetic and unfair, but breakups sucked. Sue him. “Oh hey, ma.” Mateo greeted Leila with a mischievous smile. “Haven't seen you around here in a while.”

The astral had lost its wonder.

Once, Leila had thought there to be something strangely beautiful about the place between waking and dreaming. One could simply become a part of the universe- a mote of night and stardust that floated through the cosmos. It was quiet, and beautiful, and rare. Rare to be a part of something so vast, rare to be able to see the world as it truly was: a structure of thoughts and memories grafted upon physical constructs. 

It was grief that ripped the wonderment away from the astral. Worry for the living that dimmed the stars, fear of more death that turned the beauty of that other world to ashes. Now it was a place with a purpose: Leila would find the nightmares that happened without the interference of a mare to try to dispel them, and to create nightmares when she absolutely needed- solely for survival, solely on those who caused pain in the waking world. There wasn’t much time for the latter, though. Not between her endless worrying for Metzli, Ariadne, Eleanor, and every other person in the godforsaken town who had wound their way into her heart like ivy. 

She had been scanning the seemingly endless horizon of dark, muted purples and blues, looking for the shimmer of a dream already laced with fear, when she heard an unfortunately familiar voice. Hey, ma. The simple greeting was enough to set her teeth on edge. Of all the mares left in Wicked’s Rest, why did it have to be Mateo to find her in the astral? At best, it was a needlessly irritating interaction. At worst, it reminded the mare of what she lost. Of who she lost. 

Leila didn’t even deign to look in his direction as she spoke. “What do you want, Mateo?”

A knowing smirk weaved its way onto his face, the tinge of irritation in Leila's voice already filling him with a sense of victory. He was only two sentences in, and she was already done with him. It was becoming a common theme in Mateo's life, but at least it came with humor that time around. 

“Bet you react that way to all the cool guys.” He chuckled, sauntering a bit closer. “Didn't really feel like being a blob tonight. How is it my fault that you had the same idea?” Mateo arched a brow, deciding to poke the bear a little further. What was she gonna do anyway? He could dodge away and disappear in an instant before she even fully reacted. The opportunity was staring him in the face, and Mateo was nothing if not impulsive.

“Maybe I should go bug that rock girl again. As a treat.” Not that he'd actually act on it, but Leila didn't have to know that. She just needed to react for his satisfaction. 

It was so strange to feel so hollowed out by a few words. 

Once, the mention of Cass from the other mare’s mouth would have turned her into the monster she was supposed to be, furious in a way she could never get a hold of. Leila would have stood vigil for a lifetime to keep Mateo from lurking in the girl’s dreams. But Cass was gone now. Her little body was buried beneath the dirt in a greedy cave, cased in a tomb of igneous rock and cave formations, too close to the man who had taught her love was something you had to suffer for, that you only but never, ever deserved in return.

His words were an unintentional blow to the gut. The air felt as if it was sucked right out of her lungs. The dark, star-dulled space of the astral felt like it was pressing in on her. As if she, too, should be buried alive. Payment for her failure.

Leila opened her mouth to say something, anything, but none came out. Rather, a low, mournful whimper rose in her chest. 

There was supposed to be anger, explosive and dangerous, and all around too powerful to stand against. Mateo was fully prepared for that outcome, readying his stance to leap back home, but nothing came. Nothing but a pitiful, yet earth-shattering sound. It caught in Leila’s throat like barbs, entangling itself inside with a violent sorrow. 

“Shit.” Mateo hissed, taking a step back. He knew that look too well. “I…” The words wouldn’t come out. He knew he had fucked up. Royally. But it was his mess, and he wasn’t going to just leave it there now. Mateo was many things, but he wasn’t a monster. Not like that anyway. Not when his softer nature tended to make itself known at a time like that.

“I’m sorry. Is she…” Dead? He wanted to ask, but thought better of it. “I’m sorry.” He said again, head falling shamefully. “That wasn’t fair.”

The astral was a strange place to feel like you were falling apart. 

The grief came like a riptide, pulling Leila down into the undertow until down was up and up was down, until there was nothing but the hollow, aching, horrible feeling of guilt without end. Of loss without relief. It wasn’t Mateo’s fault- after all, how could he have known what had become of Cass? But the resulting sorrow did not change. If she were not in that place between the waking and dreaming world, the mare might have curled in on herself, might have sunk to the ground while her heart broke and broke and broke again. But there, in the astral, she simply wished to close her eyes and disappear. If she were some bit of nothing lost in the endless astral, then she couldn’t fail those she loved. If she were nothing, then maybe everything wouldn’t hurt so much. 

The words seemed to come from another, far away world. I’m sorry. A strangled sob wracked her body as the mare tried to keep it all in and tucked away. But Mateo wasn’t someone she needed to stay strong for. So Leila crumbled. “She’s gone…” The words were hardly audible, as if saying them hurt just as much. Not as if. It did hurt just as much. Maybe more. The truth always hurt more…

“She’s dead.”

He could see Nancy and Veronica so clearly in place of Leila. Mothers without children to care for after a horrible tragedy, faces marred with the consequences of another’s actions. It was likely to plant deeply. Rooting itself so far down until its soil festered with the poison of grief, never to host another harvest. Mateo had seen that look before, more than once, and he still faltered in that moment. He still struggled to do more than just stand there dumbly and repeat himself over and over again.

“I’m sorry.”

It was like he was 20 again, attending a funeral for cousins that would always be that age and that he would never see again. Only Mateo didn’t know Cass the same way he knew his relatives. He was just a man that didn’t know how to offer anything more than a few words that wouldn’t bring Leila’s loved one back. She was gone, and she’d stay that way. Mateo wondered how much guilt the other mare had. Not only was she alive, but she would far outlive any life Cass would have had. He couldn’t imagine the pain she must feel as a mother. Parents weren’t supposed to bury their young.

“How long ago was this?”

“August- um… August seventeenth?” She knew the date. It wasn’t a question- it was a fact carved in stone, an end date for a life that should have gone on far after it. But Leila hadn’t really let herself get washed away in the tide of that pain before. For over a month she had forced herself to stay as sturdy as stone. For the sake of Metzli and Ariadne and all others in her life who had loved the girl who was now lost to them, she had remained (as best she could) a shelter. But wind and rain made even the strongest mountains erode away. She had known the cracks were there, but she had not known to the extent they had grown…

She disgusted herself, if she was being truly honest. 

The fact of the matter was that Leila could have done more. Tried more. She could have gone every day to the entrance of the cave and called for Cass. She could have done more than bring comics and food- like those would have done any good in battling the monster of a man who had wormed his way into that girl’s brain. She could have tried harder. It was true! But she had mildly, sheepishly, stupidly done as Cass had requested: she had given her space. She had left her alone. But in doing that, she left the girl alone with the monster that ultimately killed her. She should have done more. 

The man's shoulders slumped down with the weight of Leila's voice. Her wounds were still so fresh, and Mateo came barging in with a grief of his own that was miniscule in comparison. Time would pass and he'd be able to let go, but for Leila, she may very well become a prisoner of her loss, unable to move. Mateo felt horrible for what he'd done, and there wasn't much else to do but sit with her in between her tears. It wasn't like he had any experience with being a parent. Much less one who'd lost their child. 

“Um,” Awkwardly, Mateo stepped a little closer and laid a careful hand on Leila's shoulder. His thumb brushed over it in what he thought to be a soothing pattern, though he guessed he'd find out if it was if Leila didn't react poorly. “I don't know much–well anything at all about this stuff, but…” He shrugged and inhaled deeply, “My cousins lost their boys in a wreck. My cousin–he was a brother to one of them–he, uh, he was driving and they had smoked pot like they usually did together. He lost control of the car.” The memory stung the corner of Mateo's eyes and he sniffled, recalling the moment his cousin Diana called him to tell him the news. It was his birthday, and he had been expecting her to call him to sing as she usually did. 

Obviously, that wasn't the case. 

“He killed his brother and his cousin that night, and nobody blamed him. Maybe at first, when the news struck, but like, it was raining, you know? They hydroplaned and he got seriously hurt too. I don't know…I-I…” Mateo sighed, squeezing Leila's shoulder before retreating his hand. “I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you feel guilty at all, I hope it goes away. ‘Cause I mean, you didn't kill her. You didn't cause it. And if no one can blame my cousin, then I don't think anyone can blame you.”

Some people said that memories were a gift. Others, that the time spent with a person was a treasure once that person had gone. Still others that the one that had been lost would not want those they loved to mourn them. These sentiments were concocted for the living, by the living, when the discomfort grief caused was too much for some to bear. Grief had become a constant, painful companion for Leila, but it was one that she quietly shouldered. It dug its claws and teeth into her, marring every thought of Cass that fluttered through her mind with the reminder that she was dead and gone and buried and would not come home, and that those who loved her were now doomed to an eternity without. But what good would her pain do for those who had, seemingly, suffered more? Metzli and Ariadne, who had been there at the cave and watched it crumble in on the girl, who had lost a daughter and a sister respectively. Van, who she did not know as well, but the mare knew cared deeply for Cass, too. She was responsible for holding herself together and caring for those who survived. She had not been there. It was atonement for her own failure.

It was strange, then, to have a man she hardly knew and (for a time) had greatly disliked because he had fed upon the mind of a girl she considered her own… rest a gentle hand on her shoulder and offer soft words that did not wish to dissipate her pain, but rather to make the pain feel less isolating. He didn’t tell her not to feel guilty. He didn’t tell her not to feel sad. Simply that he hoped the pain eased. 

A breath rattled by tears shook her frame as she looked up at Mateo. “I could have done more,” She should have done more. “She told me to leave her alone, I should have-” The words caught in her throat, a broken silence filling in infinite blanks of the end of that sentence. “How… how are things like us supposed to move on forever when it means losing the people you love?”’

Mateo rolled his shoulders and considered what Leila said for a few beats. Doing more and doing enough weren't exactly the same, but loss had a way of muddling a person's mind too much to think clearly. As a person from the outside, looking in, it was easier for Mateo to come up with an unbiased take. He didn't care enough about Leila to lie. 

"You did what any good parent would do. You listened. You heard what they said and actually listened.” Which was more than what Mateo could say about his own parents. They still wouldn't shut up about his mistakes and how he abandoned the family to pursue selfishness. Not once had they considered that it would make Mateo happy, and they never asked how he felt. In his book, Leila did the right thing, and her only mistake was loving too hard. And that couldn't really be a mistake, could it?

“Death is inevitable, even for us. We just have more chances than others.” Living that long was a terrifying concept when Junior first told Mateo, but the chance to be more intrigued him too much to really think about it. Wyatt and Xóchitl would never live as long as him, but he made his decision and had to live with it. There were things that made it easier, though. Especially when Mateo felt an existential crisis on the horizon. “You go on loving them as hard and long as you can. So when it's their time, they never have to question if they were loved. Seems to me that Cass probably didn't.” 

You go on loving them. 

It seemed so simple an answer. Too simple, perhaps. The tears kept coming with no abandon, finally finding release after keeping them locked inside for someone else’s perceived benefit. You go on loving them. Why wouldn’t she love them? Why would the pain make her stop loving? Leila whimpered, swallowing hard as she tried to collect herself. Loss was inevitable, she realized. The life of a creature who could outrun death was punctuated by the loss of the ones who could not run forever, who would be taken by the hand by death and led somewhere her soul might never see. 

She wasn’t thinking when she reached out for the other mare’s hand. Wasn’t thinking as she squeezed it tight in her own, as if he had become the only life raft she could hold on to. To go on loving was all Leila knew how to do. It was a fatal flaw- she loved and loved and loved, and somehow it never felt like she had done enough. It felt as if she had failed a little, somehow, every day. But to stop loving was to accept failure… Cass had called her her mother in that last letter. Did she know? The mare wondered. Did she know how loved she was, how loved she still was?

The mare was silent for a time, the only sounds escaping her shaky breaths and quiet sobs. Eventually, her shoulders stilled in their heaving, her breathing steadied slightly. Leila lifted her gaze to Mateo. There was still pain there. So much pain. But gratitude as well. A little relief. 

“Thank you…”

Leila's touch came as a surprise, the sensation desperate and full of mourning. It left an icy weight in Mateo, growing heavier with the intensity of her squeeze. As awkward and uncomfortable as he felt though, Mateo didn't let go. He stood there, listening to the way Cass's death echoed in Leila's lungs, and didn't dare move until she was ready. Stable enough to keep from falling apart completely. 

When the storm finally settled, and the havoc met the man's gaze, a little bit of rain of Mateo's own had misted over his expression. He couldn't help it. He never could. His brothers always said he was wuss for always tearing up when his mother did, but he never cared. And he still didn't. Because Mateo never wanted to be a person that believed sympathy to be a weakness. It took a lot of strength to allow someone else's pain to seep into you, even if it was a fraction of the original size. 

“No problem, ma. No problem.” His voice was a soft whisper, only a slight tremble lying beneath it. “Why don't we go get a shake or a drink or something? On me. The least I can do.” Squeezing Leila's hand gently, Mateo offered a warm smile and softly tugged her toward him in an attempt to nudge her into a decision. “I'm not taking no for an answer.”

She hadn’t expected Mateo to care. Frankly, Leila would have thought that after their initial encounter, the other mare would have left her to her tears. It’s probably what she would have deserved, too, for punching him like she had. Not that she would have changed what she did. She would do- would have done- anything for Cass. Which was perhaps what made the pain of her absence all the more potent… Leila had done what Cass wanted her to do, and it didn’t matter in the end because her daughter was still gone. But Mateo stayed. He stayed. He didn’t pull away from her grasp while she fell apart at the seams in a way she hadn’t in months.  

It was a kindness she did not believe she could have ever deserved. 

His voice was soft as he coaxed her away from the place she sat, fixed in her grief. The storm had passed for the moment. A shaky hand smeared away luminescent tears that stubbornly rolled down her cheeks, and a weak, half-hearted laugh barked out of her as Mateo tugged at her arm like an eager child. “Alright… alright. A shake or a drink…” 

Yes, that ancient voice in her mind sighed as she followed her fellow mare along through that dim-starred world. It was certainly a kindness she did not deserve.

[syrena-del-mar]

La Pluie: A Tale of Tender Hearts

It's already been a week since La Pluie has ended and I'm still left in awe of how unsuspecting this show was presented and just how lovely it turned out to be. I tend to have the attention span of a gnat when it comes to shows that I consume, but La Pluie has been different. Starting with the cameo of Nora Robert's MacKade Brothers, I find that La Pluie has challenged me to look beyond what meets the eye at first glance and really engage with the message that they are attempting to convey. La Pluie asks you to watch the characters challenge their own beliefs while also challenging your own beliefs of the romance tropes they utilize.

Love in media is always romanticized and dramatized as something that is designed by the stars and predesignated in fate. In a world in which La Pluie takes place, it makes sense why people want to believe in the notion that the one you can hear is your soulmate. Humans are bound to creating answers out of what is unknown and confusing. La Pluie uses all the world-building that they established to subvert the notion of a destined love and instead utilized it to emphasize the active and deliberate choice to love someone and maintain a relationship, even when you're faced with challenges. They subverted the 'stars aligned' trope to show that love is an intentional commitment and ongoing effort, no amount of destiny is going to be sufficient to keep a relationship alive.

I think another running theme, though mostly in the undercurrent of the show, is that any form of love without work just ends up hurting all parties involved. La Pluie, for all intents and purposes, is a romance drama, but they allowed themselves to show so many different types of love. Love is often wrapped up in the idea of consisting solely of eros, and this is especially true in any romance drama, but La Pluie did such a good job at depicting different forms of love. And how they all take the conscious effort to keep the love alive, whether it be romantic, friendly, or familial. Each of these forms of love take a shit ton of work and effort to cultivate and keep safe, without it misunderstandings brew and resentment grows.

If episode 11 really focused on that for familial love, this final episode really continued to cement that message into the relationships of our main four. Lomfon stuck to his guns and publicly professed his feelings through his project, but a starry-eyed edited collage does not mean anything and Tien essentially states as such. Saengtien didn't let himself have hope until Lomfon verbally stated that he was in love with him. Lomfon, who used to be a bit proud, finally learned how to fully communicate. It was a long journey and he fucked up more than once, but he made the effort and he grew as a person from his mistakes. Their whole arch from frenemies to friends to lovers was weaved through the show. Their development depended on how they communicated and if they were even able to communicate. You can't start any relationship, whether friendship or more, if you can't learn to communicate.

Lomfon's biggest fuck-up came from the lack of communication, he expressed vague ideas to Saengtien, but was never nearly as forward as he was in the final episode. He learned his lesson at the cost of his relationship with Tien, both romantically and as his friend. He even warns Tien that he'll show him through his actions as well, and he does. Meanwhile Tien, who has been sidelined his whole life, has finally found his own place of comfort in Lomfon. As I've seen @bengiyo say multiple times throughout his reviews, there's no magical dick that will solve ones problems, and that rings true here. Saengtien will always be one to willing self-sacrifice in order to protect those that he loves, but this time around Lomfon will be there to look out for him. To have his best interests and welfare at heart. There's finally someone in his corner.

Saengtai... Oh Saengtai, I had such a love-hate relationship with his character because he was so finnicky and frustrating throughout the whole show. That signifies that both La Pluie and Title did a good job, because I don't necessarily believe that he was supposed to be a loveable protagonist. We finally get full-blown development from him, and he for once becomes pro-active in his life. It came full circle that Tai had to utilize both his words and his actions to salvage his relationship with Patts, after shunning him out for years. Now without the soulmate connection to assist, Tai has to put in the work to locate Patts.

It was never the lack of love that was the problem in their relationship, it wasn't even that their love was flimsily based on a notion of soulmates, but rather Tai had to unlearn his self-absorbed tendencies for Patts. A relationship won't survive in the long-term if it's one party that gives and gives, especially not when Patts has reiterated the need for Tai's affirmation of their love and relationship. This time, it finally clicked for Saengtai that he needs to communicate his care. Actions may speak louder than words, but if you're conducting yourself in a manner that is contradictory (even with the best intentions), those actions are obscured. Patt's needed that verbal confirmation and Tai finally learned how to give it. They love each other beyond the soulmate bond, they love each other because they choose to do so.

Tai finally came to that realization and understanding because he was forced to face the reality of his own parents and their bond. Saengtai was a traumatized kid of divorce who had their same ailment, it's not crazy that his understanding of love was shaken. He just didn't realize that there was no loss of love between his parents, their love had just taken on a different form. His parents loved each other, but they knew that they weren't good for each other. Priorities had changed and expectations clashed, their separation was a choice to salvage their love. The catalyst of his initial questioning of the soulmate bond brought him the answer that he needed to hear after destroying his own bond. Love is work. Love will always be work. It just depends on you to choose to work with it.

This show will always be a memorable one for me. It probed on ideas that romance shows and novels tend to shy away from, glossing over the fact that no relationship can survive without work. Love is a choice. We will never know if the choice we make will work things out or if it'll cause us the pain that we want to shield ourselves from, but without making that choice, we seclude ourselves. We rob ourselves of experiences in fear. Instead of fantasizing about allowing destiny leading us to who we love, we need to take control. People aren't simply meant for each other, they work to become meant for each other.

La Pluie is more than just another romantic BL, as the story unfolds, it allowed us (the viewers) to witness every single characters' journey of self-discovery, vulnerability, and gradual understanding of what it means to love and be in love. It's not a high stakes drama and it was never meant to be, instead from the first episode we were made aware that this was a show that was going to challenge deep-seated beliefs of the characters. In a world that was built around such a otherworldly, fictional disease, it allowed for an in-depth analysis of what it means to find love and what it means to keep it alive. This show was never meant to be a simple soulmate trope BL, and that much was clear when it set its mission statement in the first episode. It only continues to reiterate that idea as it concluded with this last message from Saengtai.

"In the end, the hearing-loss and soul-mate stuff are still questions that no one finds an answer. Or in fact, no one chooses to find an answer anymore. Because whether or not we know, it doesn't have anything to do with the path each person chooses. And, we will never know whether the paths we choose are the best ones. At least, we get to choose our own paths, instead of destiny determining it for us. There may be sadness, happiness, struggles, or convenience. But all in all, it's the meaning of life. I wish you all a happy journey in life."

For my last La Pluie post, I just want to say a big thank you to @lurkingshan, @bengiyo, @shouldiusemyname, @wen-kexing-apologist, @neuroticbookworm, @sunshinechay @shortpplfedup, @heretherebedork, and so many other users for posting such thoughtful insights that really made this show even more enjoyable to watch. I used so many metas that you all made as a stepping stone for my own ideas. The show was already enjoyable as it was, but the community made this experience even better.

Also, @lurkingshan brought to my attention all the negative reviews La Pluie has been getting on MyDramaList, so on a whim I decided to leave an overall review on the show. So if you fell in love with this show just as much as I did or even enjoyed it, here's the link to that, feel free to upvote mine and any other of the other positive reviews!

[dawsonskyelar]

I love talking about my sons too much to wait for someone to ask about them so I'm just going to yap here for Storyteller Saturday. Obligatory do not read if intending to read the novels warning.

@bardic-tales @creators-club

What inspired the core theme of your WIP?

I've always loved the idea that there are infinite versions of ourselves, and I thought that the idea of these different selves meeting was interesting. Also opposites attract is my catnip.

How does your WIP explore the balance between light and darkness?

YAY a question about my writing process! Sebastian suffers from depression and I've tried my best to weave that into the narrative. But I also know that pure misery porn isn't fun, so I balance it with funny moments between him and the other characters.

What personal values or experiences influenced the themes in your WIP?

I decline to answer this. All I'll say is that this trilogy is a manifestation of everything I've experienced in my life.

How did you choose the title of your WIP, and what does it symbolize?

My Heart Will Go On is my favourite song of all time, and 'the spaces between us' just sounds romantic and illustrates the first novel perfectly. The sequels are currently titled If You'd Never Left and When I'm With You, and along with the first novel, illustrate Sebastian's relationship with true happiness. And I also think the combinations of these words sound incredibly poetic.

Which character arc best represents your WIP's central theme?

The entire trilogy is about Sebastian's fight against depression and coming to terms with his past. Nick goes through a similar path but we don't really see it because the story is told through Sebastian's POV.

What’s your favorite trope to read and write, and why?

Opposites attract, duh. I also love characters overcoming personal obstacles against all odds.

How do you approach writing complex character relationships?

I think about how Nick's and Sebastian's pasts have influenced them to become who they are in the story and how that can inform their thoughts and reactions. The best thing about opposites attract is that you don't have to look too far to look for conflict.

What’s the biggest challenge you’ve faced while writing this story?

Finding motivation and getting around my healthy eating program because I CANNOT not drink sugary drinks when writing.

Do you prefer outlining your WIP in advance or letting it develop organically?

I think about how I want the story to progress, what kind of arc I want the characters to go through, then plan out the best conflicts for that purpose. However, the outline is subject to change as I learn more about the characters and the world.

How do you stay motivated when tackling emotionally intense scenes?

What do you mean? I LIVE for emotionally intense scenes, baby!

Which of your characters would you get along with best in real life?

Nick, I think. We both love to have fun and eat food.

If you could spend a day with any of your characters, who would it be and why?

Nick and Heidi - Nick for the fun aspect and Heidi for a not-talking-much kindred spirit.

Which character is most misunderstood, and how would you defend them?

Definitely Sebastian because I know some people don't like doom-and-gloom characters like him. That's OK, my story isn't going to be for everyone.

Who was the hardest character to write, and what made it challenging?

Probably alt-Heidi. She's such a bitch and so different from Heidi that it was hard to make her at least tolerable. Also figuring out the logistics of her background was hell.

Which character would you trust with a dangerous secret?

Heidi. She's extremely shy and talking to people is hard for her, but she's still trustworthy even without those things.

Share a line or excerpt that reveals a character’s deepest fear.

His pale skin, long hair and slanted eyes never failed to remind Sebastian of a snake. If he had a list of phobias–not that he did–then snakes would be the second item.

What’s a favorite dialogue exchange you’ve written?

‘Up at this hour already, bastard? You’re such a prissy goody-two-shoes, y’know that? It’s like they’d make you cough up two years of pay if you were a second late, y’know what I mean–?’

CRASH.

‘OW!’

‘That’s what you get for changing my alarm tone, deadlast.’

‘I watched a man disappear, Nick!’

‘So?’

‘So?’ Sebastian couldn’t believe this. Was this the same Nick who always put other people before himself? ‘Do you realise what this means? If more people are moving across dimensions, something bad will happen!’

‘You’re talking bullshit! Nothing’s gonna happen! It’s just a swap of places!’

Sebastian was incredulous. ‘So you’d stay here even if other people were taken away from their lives?’

‘Yeah!’ There was no hesitation in Nick’s voice.

‘And why is that?’

‘Because my parents’re here.’ Nick glared at Sebastian defiantly and bit down on his bottom lip that had started to quiver.

‘They’re not yours, Nick! They’re Nichole’s! Your parents are dead!’

‘They see me as their son. That’s good enough for me.’

Nick’s eyes were wet, but he didn’t shed a tear. ‘You don’t understand how much I want this. You had a family. You know having someone love you feels like. I never had that.

Share a scene where a character’s true nature is revealed.

The fire that he’d been trying to repress for over a decade flared through his system. Without warning he reached out and grabbed her by the throat. She let out terrified gagging sounds as he pinned her to the floor. She’d caused him irreversible damage. He was going to do the same to her, so she’d know how he felt.

‘I did everything I could,’ he growled at her. ‘Do you know how often I wake up at ungodly hours because of you? Crying because I couldn’t do anything to save you? Do you know how much I’d give to have all of it back so I can do it right?’

Sebastian’s hair was askew and his entire face was shining with sweat. He was the definition of a madman. He tightened his hold on Madeline’s neck and delighted at how she squirmed and squeaked. This was it. He was finally going to put an end to this. At last, he’d be free from their clutches. How he’d longed to do this. Since the day they left him.

Post an excerpt that showcases your WIP’s central conflict.

See second part of 'Favourite dialogue' question.

Share a snippet that highlights a moment of vulnerability or intimacy.

This excerpt is from my current WIP. Apologies for bad writing because it hasn't been edited yet.

He felt something warm and solid against his back and Nick’s hand reached up to close the cabinet. ‘C’mon, can’t we make this last just a bit longer?’

Sebastian’s heart skyrocketed. The sensation of Nick’s body against his was almost enough to send him into cardiac arrest. He was seeing stars and his knees hand turned to water.

‘The… The pizza will go bad.’ Even his tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

‘It can wait a few minutes.’ Nick rested his chin on Sebastian’s shoulder.

‘Most people wouldn’t say… the kitchen is a romantic place.’

‘Who gives a fuck.’ Nick turned Sebastian’s head so they could face each other. The rhythm of his heart against his chest was almost painful. Nick’s lips were shining and the low light hid his eyes, giving them a mysterious look. He wished death would hurry up so he didn’t have to think any longer.

Nick mouthed something but Sebastian couldn’t hear it over the rushing in his ears. Nick’s arms around him felt like an anaconda had captured him. Even as Nick moved closer his eyes were still hidden. Sebastian’s stomach rolled and he felt liquid shooting up his throat. He held onto the counter’s edge as Nick’s lips finally touched his.

What’s an angst headcanon that isn’t explicitly shown in your story?

The fact that Sebastian remembers what his family looked like when he last saw them implies he watched all of them die.

What’s a little-known fact about your main character’s past?

Nobody helped Nick when he was beaten up by the orphanage's bullies - in fact they just stood and watched as he screamed in pain.

Do you have any secret backstories or plot twists you haven’t revealed yet?

In the third book Nick hates the idea of Sebastian getting therapy because he got fucked over by the therapist he was forced to see when he was sent to jail.

What inspired your character’s name, and does it have a deeper meaning?

All the names in the trilogy share the same initials as their inspirations, so that's my base. For Sebastian I like the actor Sebastian Stan because he portrayed Bucky Barnes so brilliantly and he's so beautiful but I'm so lucky the name itself has potential for many nicknames. For Nick I took his name from Nick Carter, my favourite Backstreet Boys member, including the unusual spelling. Carter is a blond and he gets up every time life tries to kick him down which I find SO inspiring.

What’s a detail about your world-building that you love but rarely mention?

The reality cracks lead to other dimensions so in theory you can walk through one and you'll be travelling between them seamlessly.

[putrid-tongue]

okay so this is really more a stream of consciousness and jumbled thoughts so if this makes ZERO sense to anyone but me, i would not be surprised 😭 but i needed somewhere to put this, so why not here where others may take from it, or pitch in! just in case i don't sound utterly deranged. :')

my insane ass thinking about how to weave bloodborne's themes of cosmic horror, fertility, motherhood, dreaming, self-realization, loss of self etc etc into lotr, specifically related to the void, the children of eru and chaos. the outer world represented within the bodies of elves and humans— especially humans featuring many of melkor's traits and that is by design. thinking about the passages in the silm where it is stated that the discord melkor brings serves a purpose— and how nature representes balance between life and birth and stability, vs chaos and destruction and death, and how one cannot be without the other. something that some of the valar never truly understood i feel like (though ofc you can make arguments for cases in which they do, and in which they don't). which would mark their withdrawal from the world as their greatest failing.. or their greatest boon?

i think this will also help me in fleshing out and supplementing the 'darker side of magic' a little more, on which i already made a hc post in the recent past. but this would be a fun, big old addition and a first pointer as to why blood sacrifices may be so important, as well as physicality and themes of mortality and death.

bloodborne is amongst my favorite media (of which there are many i admit), especially related to the eldritch and themes of cosmic horror. of what's lurking in our Shadow, and the need to place ourselves as significant in the Grand Scheme Of Things. Oghh...

okay rant over.

[mediaevalmusereads]

A Night to Surrender. By Tessa Dare. Avon, 2011.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Series: Spindle Cove #1

Summary: Spindle Cove is the destination of choice for certain types of well-bred young ladies: the painfully shy, young wives disenchanted with matrimony, and young girls too enchanted with the wrong men; it is a haven for those who live there.

Victor Bramwell, the new Earl of Rycliff, knows he doesn't belong here. So far as he can tell, there's nothing in this place but spinsters... and sheep. But he has no choice, he has orders to gather a militia. It's a simple mission, made complicated by the spirited, exquisite Susanna Finch—a woman who is determined to save her personal utopia from the invasion of Bram's makeshift army.

Susanna has no use for aggravating men; Bram has sworn off interfering women. The scene is set for an epic battle... but who can be named the winner when both have so much to lose?

***Full review below.***

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, internalized ableism, medical trauma, blood, description of a physical injury

Overview: I realized I started at book 2 and read this whole series without going back to the beginning, so here we are. I very much like Tessa Dare's Spindle Cove series, as a whole, and the first installment is a good setup. While there were things here and there that didn't quite gel with me, the book was overall a solid romance novel, so it gets 4 stars from me.

Writing: The writing in this book is about what you would expect of a Dare novel. It's quick, it's humorous, and readers will have no trouble following the action. Dare also does a really good job of weaving her themes together and setting up ideas at the beginning of the novel, bringing them together once again towards the end. It made the book as a whole feel carefully planned and coherent, and for that, I think Dare deserves a lot of credit.

Plot: The non-romance plot of this book follows Victor "Bram" Bramwell, a lieutenant colonel who finds himself "promoted" to Earl of Rycliff following a wartime injury. He is tasked with running a volunteer militia to prove his fitness for war, and if he does well, he may be given back his military post. The problem is that the only major settlement on his lands is Spindle Cove - a seaside retreat for gently-bred ladies.

Susanna Finch is the daughter of a famous gunsmith, and before Bram came to town, she was the defacto figurehead. Now, with Bram and his militia threatening the peace and safety of Spindle Cove, she must figure out a way to get Bram what he wants without risking the way of life the women have built for themselves.

What I liked most about the plot was the exploration of what it meant for men to have "purpose" and why women's spaces are so threatening to the patriarchy. For a large portion of this book, Bram and his companions maintain that the Spindle Cove way of life has emasculated the men living there, but the more we read, the more clear it is that patriarchy poses a threat to all. I will admit, I wasn't wholly on board with this plot at first; there were some instances where it felt like Susanna and Spindle Cove were being asked to carve out a space for men, even though the village itself was set up as a haven for women to escape patriarchy. Over time, I came around, in part because the message was less about male and female spaces but more about making a space where everyone felt comfortable.

Characters: Susanna, our heroine, is stubborn, independent, and wonderfully spirited. It's easy to be on her side because she cares so desperately for her friends and for Spindle Cove as a whole. I found her struggle with her relationship with her father to be compelling and complicated, and her history as a healer to be moving. If I had any complaint, I would say that Susanna is a bit too easy to forgive, especially after the men come barreling into the local tea shop and almost kill someone. In my view, Susanna could have taken Bram and the others more to task for insisting on masculine spaces when doing so causes so much hurt and destruction. It would have been a good opportunity to explore questions of why women-centered spaced are important, but Susanna doesn't quite go far enough.

Bram, our hero, is fairly easy to sympathize with due to his abundance of internalized ableism and associating self worth with "action." Bram is single minded in his pursuit of returning to his old life, but his injury is such that he will never be physically the same as before. Thus, a large part of his arc involves learning to build a new life and find a new purpose, and that's something I think a lot of people can understand. I do think, however, that Dare should have leaned harder into him for his thoughts about gender. While Bram does change and does end up softening his stance, he also goes into Spindle Cove with rigid ideas about men and women. While Dare does a good job challenging this in some places, I think more of these rigid ideas could have been taken to task.

Supporting characters were fun and enriched the story. A lot of them will figure as protagonists in subsequent Spindle Cove books, so if you'd like a more in depth assessment, feel free to check out my other reviews. But suffice it to say, the secondary characters made for both a charming community at Spindle Cove, and even Bram's companions (bull headed as they are) grew on me.

Romance: The romance between Susanna and Bram was fine. I really liked the trust and intimacy that they built later in the book, and I enjoyed their battle of wills that made the two of them rivals (to lovers). Bram's hunger for physical touch was endearing, and Susanna's insistence on giving Bram what he needed (versus what he wanted) made for some compelling emotional intimacy. The only thing that wasn't quite my jam was the speed at which their lust developed. I personally find it preposterous when the hero and heroine have such raging lust for one another from the get go, and Bram and Susanna's physical attraction was a little ridiculous at first. Over time, though, their physical longing felt balanced by their emotional longing, so things got better as their relationship developed.

TL;DR: A Night to Surrender is a strong introduction to the Spindle Cove series, pitting to stubborn, headstrong protagonists against one another while also exploring the gendered expectations of "purpose." While there were things here and there that weren't to my personal taste, overall, I found the concept of Spindle Cove intriguing and I look forward to reading more Dare novels.

[skepticbeliever-bookclub]

Hello friends and shippers! 

It is still January, and it’s cold and dark and sort of miserable in the Northern Hemisphere, so the book club was definitely looking for something to warm us up. 

Our theme this past week was Shyan+, and we had nominations for all permutations of Shane and Ryan plus an extra! There’s an amazing variety of options in this fandom, which is a wonderful thing, and with a close vote, we selected To The Sun by blacktofade featuring the Shane/Sara/Ryan combination as our read this week. 

It’s domestic, it’s comforting, it’s bittersweet in the way that all the best ten years later fics tend to be. It features our usual suspects, in a wildly different era of their lives than the one they were all in in 2019, and it’s done with great care and presence of mind. 

Rating: Explicit

Summary: 

Life is weird. Ten years after Unsolved ends, Shane’s married with a kid and Ryan accidentally bumps into him at a gas station in Illinois.

Book Club Thoughts:

it's really excellently written. it's beautiful simple prose that never feels overwritten.

I love the balance of it with the tide swaying towards hope.

i really love that their reunion is a chance encounter. it's like fate, which is how i feel about their whole damn relationship.

one of the most excellent establishings of a past without using literal flashback i've seen in fic.

the way [the author] weaves in the memories from past encounters and writes them in the scene so it feels heavy, meaningful, purposeful.

There's this sensation of thinking you have managed to fully get over something and then being faced with it again and discovering that all the feelings you'd managed to forget are still there that gets captured really strongly and accurately through the story.

it's understanding not just who they are, but who that means they will be. incredibly aware writing.

Polyamory and absence and reunion. All were handled so well.

I love in reunion fics when the characters are better together older.

I want to mention "Ghoul Man". that's so cute.

there's nothing quite like the idea of turning all of BuzzFeed Unsolved into children's stories featuring Ghoul Man.

bear is the perfect writing of a lab, they are such good dogs and this writer knows the truth of that fact.

What sticks with me most from this is  how much the domesticity of Shane and Sara’s life means to Ryan. It doesn’t put him off, but drags him in. Because it’s them, everything is different but it’s still them.

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[tarotnoob]

Pick a Card: The qualities the Universe sees in you; what career would suit you?

Sorry if that seems dark, I’m still working with this cheap smartphone after my Google Pixel’s battery warped. Feel free to zoom in on the crystals, I purposely hid their meanings. I will give you a bit of info about you as a person, and give you a list of the (potential) careers that suit you. Of course, there could be more careers as along as it fits the theme of your personality/characteristics/skills.

Use your intuition to pick your pile(s), and then scroll down!

PILE 1

These certainly synchronized well without trying, and although I’m not counting all the BTS “Be” photocards, I did actually shuffle them anyway when I used them to cover up your crystal meaning; so I find it very interesting and helpful to see that J-Hope fell out for you.

As a person, I would sense that you’re someone who’s been through pain, but also healed or is currently on that journey toward healing. And, you might say, well that’s vague and everyone goes through that; however, 1: not everyone chooses to heal 2. not everyone chooses to heal and then help, some people continue the cycle of abuse/pain inflicted onto them 3. this is the kind of healing/pain that results in a life purpose in which some function or medium, action, or work that revolves around helping others. Not just being kind to others out of compassion and empathy, though that’s probably a given, I mean, your profession will revolve around this desire to heal, help, teach.

I feel like “release”, “pain”, “heal” are the keywords that would surround any career you choose, whether it’s to heal yourself, others, or both.

There’s a lot of greens here, with some red, purple, indigo: Heart, root, crown, third-eye chakra. Your intuition is strong, your empathy and compassion are strong, root would indicate the healing process and grounding through that or through some type of activity, crown is that spiritual/greater purpose aspect.

Which also fits in with this Self oracle; this card reads like the idea of the Higher Self, except it’s still referring to this incarnation’s soul, accepting of all parts, separate from the ego, understanding its place in the universe, so there would have to be some type of spiritual awakening that’s occurred for you or will. There’s a sense of awareness about how spiritual things work, which may also be an element in your ability and even DESIRE to do healing work.

For you, I feel you would be excellent in any career involving helping, healing, teaching, opening up people’s minds/hearts to something greater than themselves, to also assist them in getting on their life purpose path.

Careers: Spiritual healer (tarot, reiki, mediumship, etc...); teacher/professor; therapist;psychologist/psychiatrist; doctor/nurse/physical therapist; special needs; social worker; counselor; any type of rehabilitation; acupuncture; writer; journalist; comedian; religious positions; publishing; podcasts; or any other career in which “storytelling” is used to heal or heal yourself by expressing your emotions/thoughts, like screenplays, music, poetry, artist, designer, etc...

There’s definitely a strong focus here on using “words” to heal, so it’s definitely a call to all the artists out there or anyone who can weave writing/storytelling into their healing arts. Doctors may heal, but storytelling isn’t really part of that, so I definitely sense this is more toward people who feel comfortable using words/stories to express a healing element. Pictures count as words, too. Any type of physical manifestation of a feeling or vision is a reflection of thoughts.

There could even be opportunities for a career as a lawyer, judge, or even some type of other criminal/law component-job. Politics is also possible.

But, these are only if you have the intention of helping/healing/making a positive change in the community/world.

Photography, modeling... I see that in “the self” card...  there’s a sense of taking people who are “fragmented” and putting them back together again.

Really a career in which your intentions are coming from your heart in a way that there’s a conscious understanding that we (the collective) are connected and with that mindset, there’s a call to do good because that’s why we’re here.

My point is there’s something bigger drawing you/pushing you toward a healing career. It’s more than just “that sounds fun” or “my parents would like me to become that.” Several figures in these cards are touching their heart space and also there’s books, letters, etc... You get the idea.

I also feel like you’re not a sullen person in the sense that you hold a lot of anger or resentment, that you may even on the surface appear jolly, happy, have a good sense of humor and in private perhaps you are more quiet, reflective.

But, very much so I do also see a career in which interacting with others, especially one-on-one literally or as in one-on-one: your book and the reader; your song and the listener; your food and the diner, etc...

---

PILE 2

Sadly, I wrote out a very long and thorough description for Pile 2, but it got eaten by Tumblr. Maybe that’s part of the message, though, as this was the only Pile where - besides the careers - there was a very extensive personal message for you. I’ll try to bring back as much detail as the first time, if I can remember.

Here are some common themes for this pile: There is the sense that you have warrior energy but at the same time, you’ve built armor around yourself. To be honest, the fact you have Jimin as your photocard that fell out is really what shaped my opinion of the pile (no need to ask why, just trust me, and I like Jimin very much). The Destroyer card, which... has a couple of meanings. It can be about self-sabotage and it’s also about using objects, success, money, accomplishments as a symbol of recognition or success - not to realize that material things are temporary and don’t necessarily hold that type of value.

I do think this is a pile that weighs success against such things or has in the past. The destroyer reminded me of the wolf from Neverending story. It is the power behind the “Nothing” which tries to, basically, destroy that universe/world.

When I think about this, i see it as if... say some type of wound or incident happened when you were younger and it left a type of metaphorical scar on your soul, that scar kind of necrofied (that’s a word right) and turned into a black marble, and then all of this scar tissue formed around it. And that feels like a metaphor for all the armor imagery I’m seeing in these cards. This is something that has influenced your attitude in a lot of ways, particularly about yourself. I sense some issues with insecurity and comparing yourself to others, in terms of success or what you have, looks - but all of this comparison stems from that insecurity, lack of self-love. I’m not saying you aren’t confident, in fact I feel like this is the energy of an ambitious boss, but that’s tied into a desire to prove yourself, which, as I said, comes from this black marble wound you picked up somewhere. In fact, if it’s not this lifetime I was wondering if it’s something passed on from a previous lifetime(s), because it’s a very DEEP wound and I do sense that it’s... so much more than like - feeling neglected or abandoned as a kid or being bullied. It feels spiritually deeper and engrained.

Anyway, that’s what’s pushed you in the direction of wanting to achieve a certain lifestyle that reflects your success, your worth, your value, etc...

That type of ambition (when I first wrote your description) made me feel you’d be excellent in business, jobs where there’s some type of competition that keeps you excited and (not bored), that may change up frequently, where there’s a clear way of climbing the career ladder. I see you as potential CEOs, leaders of startups, PR moguls, social media masters. People who want a job in which they have some sense of power and authority. Not to do wicked things (although it’s possible you could be slightly overbearing, perhaps this is a pile for a lot of fire signs as it has that type of creative, fiery, independent, thirsty energy).

You’d be someone quite driven, so any field where you can be badass or have people perceive that you are. I don’t see this as being strictly - like... a practical job, no regular 9 to 5 stuff, not stuck in a boxy office. I see offices with views, in a cool building, working in modern offices if not for yourself, starting your own creative business ventures or fresh ventures with a lot of risk, exciting travel jobs. You could be flight attendants. I mean it does have the energy of superstar actors, singers, musicians.... there’s that Leo feeling of someone who wants attention and has this hungry ambition where they’d probably do a fair amount to be on top - just keep in mind that things come and go, that things aren’t always permanent and that things don’t determine your true value. What does - in theory - is who you are as a person, how you feel about yourself, are you doing it for you or the approval of others. And I’m not shaming, that’s quite normal, but that’s really a drive of the ego and it’s okay to think and reflect on why it is you feel so motivated to prove yourself when you don’t have to prove anything to anyone except maybe yourself.

So, again - apply that to jobs where you can show off. I do see you as not faking this. You’re very capable as like... project managers, you’d make good agents for people, real estate agents, radio personalities, the kind of people who drive to LA in a car with nothing to become an actor or something, you could be a fancy concierge in a well known hotel in Paris... bc you attach “prestige” to your job title. 

You get the idea... on the other hand since it seems I’ve been brow-beating you over materialism and attachment to things and titles - there’s also a sense that you want to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I see this in the nature card. Not to get all therapist on you, but perhaps bc you couldn’t protect yourself or just bc it’s right, there’s a sense of wanting to protect the “weak.” I’m not saying you’re a super social justice warrior though you may be, in fact I sense more of a disdain for people in general, so this is only about 1. young children 2. animals 3. the planet. You’re not looking out for the average person, just those that can’t defend themselves, so you may also be a leader in anything to do with protecting the environment, this could include being like a vegan chef or working for green peace, working as a diplomat, being a caretaker of young children or the infirm, it is possible you could be a nurse (specifically one who treats the old and young), or a lawyer - like environmental lawyer or one of those lawyers who would defend the immigrant children who got separated from their parents after crossing from Mexico to the US... you know there’s passion and ambition BUT you have a soft spot when people are being picked on. I mean you may pick on average people bc ur like bro we’re equal, i’ll take you on - but kids and animals, even if  you don’t LIKE kids, you wouldn’t stand for someone to mistreat them.

And for some of you you may have already been through this process of removing self sabotaging behavior or talk where you told yourself you weren’t good enough, etc... but it was probably part of your cycle. I feel like the destroyer was that sense of self-sabotage and darkness within you that drives you forward. 7 of swords has that “bitter” feeling to it here and also looks like, well, a stegosaurus, lol, like another instance of you surrounding yourself with these blades so no one will get near you and you’re still carrying them and the root is something “hidden.” But fool and child nature show that you aren’t a bad person, that you’re just reacting to some wound where you felt left behind or neglected or unappreciated. And that left this destroyer black hole, but the crystal wants you to learn self love, to treasure that more than success and such. I mean, I want you to BE successful, and you will be bc you’re capable and brave and ambitious and smart and clever and organized BUT I don’t want you to feel you have to prove yourself through high salaries and nice condos and the best wines and designer clothes - like treat yourself as you deserve it but status isn’t indicative of worth... you’re great as you are, nothing to prove. Love yourself.

---

Pile 3

On the one hand, I think pile three could have careers in any kind of mystical realm, if there’s also an aspect of the job where you’re doing, say, tarot out on the open via blog, youtube, etsy. There are plenty of cards to suggest talents in a spiritual job with agape, shaman, and magician. But with the crystal card and networker (and magician again), I also think there is an online aspect. All those cards are about communication, communication networks, etc...

By that default, this is a pile where you’d excel in the communication fields: publishing, radio broadcast, marketing, journalism, PR. Shamans can also be doctors, politicians, etc... (see pile 1). But this pile doesn’t necessarily have a “healer” aspect to it. This is like a. mystical skills 2. networking skills 3. communication skills. You don’t have to have spiritual skills, though. This is definitely not a tarot reader pile only, I don’t even feel that’s an aspect of it other than by default. This is more “communications” jobs.

Also, singer pops out. Poet. But, again, this is if you actually share your music to an online community or go to physical locations and share it. I also don’t feel this is a behind the scenes working in the music industry either.

What I see in the Shaman card, too, is a sense of learning, a sense of understanding your own darkness, a sense of being some sort of spiritual conduit between heaven and earth. We could say some artistic talents are just divine given, but unlike Pile 1, it’s not about healing, it’s about... purpose?

Agape is interesting because it’s... finding wonder in something physical... but it’s a divine wonder. If you were to see the grand canyon or some other really amazing physical/earth... landscape... and in that moment you feel this sort of divine wonder and humility. You might also really like Yuri on Ice xD

The Jenna card reminds me a bit of a nun, too. So there are several... spiritual but also religious themes within these cards...  there’s also a repeating theme about surrender and moving on, letting go.

Besides all communication jobs and online spiritual gigs, I see things like poet, singer, actor, specifically if any of you are studying opera. I see spiritual or religious leaders. I actually have a friend who worked in intense data programming whatever on the East Coast and such and such happened, she became a nun and moved to Scotland or something. 

I also see a teacher, but it would be religion, philosophy, history. Librarian. Someone who does research on said topics. Create documentaries, especially about nature or the human story, sociology. There’s also a sense of action. Like, you do something, you create something. It’s not sitting at a desk or being told what to do, I don’t feel this is any kind of service work.

I guess what I see it as is someone who “spreads a gospel.” And you can say gospel is anything that feels like a “truth.” And that truth is also spread through a “large” community or system via you or what you do. 

Documentary work feels right on the money, though. But like I said, it would have to be about anything that brings a sense of wonder. I feel like you’re more comfortable as an observer, behind a camera. I guess in that way you’re not really a youtube tarot reader... there’s humility to this pile, it’s not a show off pile. If you are in the spotlight it’s... not about you. I think it’ll be a job where you see or display something to do with the bigger picture. The bigger world. And there’s a sense of objectivity to it instead of trying to push a particular narrative, which is why nature documentaries or photography, still paintings, come to mind.

Poems and songs because they’re very short and capture a moment or single feeling... I included the cards that hid the crystal meaning and so far they’ve actually been spot on. I shuffled the bts photocards like I would oracles, and JK is actually someone who’s done documentary/video/photography work, he also draws, writes, sings. But he’s an introvert and he said once about filmwork that he liked doing videos bc a photo sometimes needs a description but a film, people get what you’re trying to say (in theory). He’s a Virgo by the way, with a Libra venus and a leo/virgo cusped moon, I think. And in the Magician card, it’s ruled by Mercury (which rules Gemini/virgo) The other card is a swords/air sign. My point being that if you need to know further if this is your pile, this is an earth-air pile. Air is about communication, earth is about... the earth, haha, grounding. So communication plus earth equals... nature documentaries.

There’s nature imagery, there’s a sense of stillness, self discovery, spiritual learning, humility, and... wonder. Also, moving forward, letting go.

In terms of working for others alone, I’m drawn more toward alone or in your job working for others you have a lot of independence to do your thing. 

Well, you get the idea, and let me look for any personal messages that seem important, as well. Jenna’s face reminds me of Billie Eilish. Oh, I also wanted to say I thought you might be a bit of a job nomad. You may go through several jobs before you find the ideal one or perhaps you simply move around bc you do freelance videography or whatever form of... work.

I’m mostly seeing emphasis on the throat chakra and using it in your career, how your throat chakra has to do with your alignment/purpose. Like I said, you tend to be a close observer of people or the things around you, more so than the average person. You probably like to people watch or go outside and watch the trees or clouds or sky, you have a fascination with nature or natural monuments. I want to say you may like to wear white, but I think the white outfits in two of these cards is more about... the “purity” tied to these moments of wonder/inspiration. I think in terms of “moving on” from anything, that nature is a healer for you. You’re wise, you have the ability to teach but also be a student.

I’m suddenly getting Death vibes so perhaps some of you had a near death experience or a very striking spiritual transformation. Or some experience that kind of “spooked” you. 

And oh also possibly an interest in space, astronomy, astrology as that would also fall under a natural phenomenon that induces wonder. But I also see the sea/ocean, as well. Marine biology, diving, astronomer, astronaut, mountain climber, haha. The agape card makes me think of something jungkook mentioned recently about how he relaxes in a dark room, a single candle on, listening to music, and that’s also a bit of a vibe for this pile. You probably meditate, do yoga, etc... and you can “purify” your soul through throat chakra activities... and... yeah. That felt repetitive, but... there are probably a lot of jobs I don’t know about that encompass this sort of feeling, so I wanted to be over-thorough. Hopefully Tumblr won’t delete this like it did Pile 2 when I went to save draft!

---

PILE 4

Not that poet hasn’t slid in to a couple other piles as an option, but this one clearly speaks it. There are other piles that mention a job centered around the throat chakra or communication, but this pile seems very specific.

I happened to shuffle all the bts photocards I was just using to cover up the crystal meanings, and you got RM, who is the rapper of the group. His style of writing is very poetic; outside of BTS, he has this album called Mono, and it is... it has the most incredible atmosphere to it that it feels like poetry rap. That’s how he writes anyway, he takes a very philosophical but artistic approach, plays with words and metaphors and language, and I see that here with the page of swords and hermit. There’s a sense of studying language in those two cards, so someone who... is an interpreter, who speaks multiple languages and uses that in their job, speech therapist, studies the... science behind words, etymology? Isn’t that what it is? Studies the written word, such as... philosophy... or would teach English. Also ironic I said translator and RM is the one who translates for BTS when they do English interviews. The poet looks like they’re singing, too, but I feel more that rather than say “singer” this pile is connected to... language, writing, words, studying them or there’s an intellectual pursuit around language. Archivist, researcher, librarian. Someone who’d work at the Smithsonian and could decipher Egyptian or Sumerian, etc... or archaeologist even. Or working with religious or spiritual texts. Working in a museum and archiving... I think even coding could fall under this, using coding to create things, studying coding or web programming, etc...  I guess it could be any job in which there’s knowledge and communication involved. More on the technical side. Engineer even, but again that’s like using the language of “math” to create.

I went to look up the flame oracle and the first line is “In sanskrit...” so again haha another tie to language. It also says at the end “it is likely that The Poet, The Mystic, or The Shaman” would call to you with the language of the flame. so again, “language”, “poet”. Shaman is a card that showed up in pile 3 so you could always check that out and I was almost going to say I feel something tied to pile 3 but that’s only bc pile 3 was the throat chakra jobs. But the flame card reminds me of ace of wands, it’s about inner vitality... however I felt through this description of the card that there was another message about having a passion for language, history, and ancient civilizations, their knowledge.

And Fairy Stone is a sacred stone found in canada, sacred to the native peoples who live there, so again, an appreciation for culture, history, knowledge, what’s “sacred” to a group of people, etc...  and there’s also elements of Magician vibe to it, as well, with the sense of manifesting success. The aspect of Geneva we’d be drawn to is probably the “knowing” but I also feel ambition, too. Ambition fits with the flame card, the flames around page of swords, flame on the hermit’s staff. But... that makes me think of that greek story or whatever about when the gods gave humans fire... and it was like... giving them knowledge. I’m sensing a very specific, repeating pattern here. I suppose you could also make a great tour guide of these types of places.

Pretty sure you get the idea of what the job could involve whether I named it specifically or not.

And as a personal message, what do I see - well you’d have to be extremely intelligent, as in book smart, read a lot, have a passion for ancient civilizations or culture, societies, architecture, old writings, etc... you might have a fascination with language. You might do a lot of writing yourself, if not songs or poetry or fiction, then keeping a journal or coding. You might do a lot of deep thinking in general, be a passionate communicator, especially about topics you’re very interested in...  you might already collect... specific objects. They don’t have to be crystals or stones or historical stuff, but maybe. However, it reminds me that RM collects bonzai plants and these ... robot figure things. So, yeah I feel you may have collections of specific things. Maybe you even collect books or a specific author’s books, might have a library at home or at least a decent bookshelf, might be a bit on the nerdy side, might think a lot like an earth sign, maybe sometimes... not rigid per se but almost like... structure to thoughts even if they’re artistic. You might be clumsy, you might sometimes lack common sense or like a lower social IQ... as in occasionally socially awkward. That’s me thinking of RM, because I do feel there’s fire energy even if it’s not prominent in your chart, there’s passion... enthusiasm... confidence, ambition.

But I think that passion would be directed at your hobbies/interests/job.

I think you’re probably quick-witted, though. Maybe even sarcastic.

I also want to say diplomat bc I see with the poet speaking there’s the doves, so it’s like someone who can speak and with their words create peace, so orator, politician, motivational speaker. You might be known for having eyes that stand out or an intense stare. You may have an interest in... the fantasy genre or have an interest in art, able to see stories through works of art or architecture. You’d enjoy going to a big city and visiting all the art museums.

I don’t see any advice or warnings or...  I think that about wraps it up, Pile 4.

[bluexiao]

#a beautiful disaster

CHARACTERS. Kazuha; gn! reader

THEMES. first meetings. angst ofc. kind of hurt/comfort to hurt again.

NOTES. kind of inspired by heather :)) happy happy birthday kazu<3 this is just a short one :D

Writing Commissions || Send a Kofi

The first time you met KAZUHA was a disaster—a beautiful disaster.

The world was upside down at that time, a cloud brimming above your head as its rain in an incessant downpour. Blasting them all with the loud music, you drowned yourself with the beats you had with your bluetooth speaker—one that you actually just brought a few days ago. You basked into the peacefulness that the lyrics and tune, its threads weaving along the seams of your brain, calming you down and setting your mind straight slowly but surely, just like how it would every single time you get stressed. This, apparently, is one of the most effective ways in trying to figure out things when everything seems as chaotic as ever. This is the only way, but with the knocking on your door breaking the peace that this moment brought, it is proving to be difficult to ignore whoever was bothering you at this very moment.

Pushing yourself up from your chair, you head on to the door and only opened it slightly, peeking on to the person only to pull it back wide by the time you realized who it was.

“Kaedehara Kazuha… right?” you questioned with an inevitable frown, brows furrowed at the sight of the boy--well, it was not like you treated him a stranger. Nonetheless, he is an acquaintance, a student who studies in the same course as you and wills to be a writer as well. Of what sort or any specifics were out of your mind for you never really bothered looking into it. You just knew that he’s a classmate of yours and that’s it.

So for what purpose shall be his visit then?

He might have noticed the irritation written all over your face or heard it from the tone you used with his name. That’s good, then. However, instead of apologizing and walking off like nothing occurred, saying that he’ll just come back next time, the opposite thing happens anyway.

He smiles, one that you couldn’t figure if it was forced or genuine, but it looked very natural to him, anyway.

“I’m looking for Xinyan, is she here?’

Your brow raises, “Xinyan?”Ah,yes, your roommate. You almost forgot you even had one, “She’s not. She said she’ll be out for a little whi-”

“Then I’ll just stay and wait for her.”

“Sure, just-Wait what?” you halted in your words and sealedyour mouth shut as you examined the look on his face, especially those plum eyes of his. He seemed… amused and confident. Is he really looking for your roommate? At this time?

Well, it’s not like you could argue with him, not after unconsciously agreeing without even thinking about it.

Sighing exasperatedly, you went on and opened the door, letting the boy in and deciding you’ll just have to ask Xinyan through a text. After sending in one, he was already sitting on your shared couch with your roommate, which then prompted you to feel that tug in your heart to be accommodating since he was still someone whom you know… at the very least.

“Would you like a soda?” you hesitatingly inquired.

He smiled again at that time--does he have a lot of smiles? You inquired to yourself. Because this one seemed a tinge relaxed than the other ones, you suppose.

“Yes, please.”

Apparently, that time, he came in because of your loud music and he was about to complain to you when he felt the need not to--to accompany you instead. That was according to him when you two had gotten into a relationship. Oh yes, you did. After that night was a series of days where you and him hanged out with each other and eventually became lovers.

Ah, how lovely it was to think about how such a disastrous day could end with meeting the love of your life, that was what you’ve always thought.

Was.

Birds fly and love shatters, as would how tree trunks break when the wind had pushed it too much, leaves leave when it wants—leaving the trunks empty and dry, all alone.

Your relationship, just like the first meeting, was a lovely disaster--but the latter word was too much both of you had to pull away and let go.

It was a mutual agreement nonetheless. It just didn’t work out.

But you sure hoped it did, especially now as you watch from afar, eyes cautiously and hesitatingly landing on him with another person—his new significant other, you guessed. Who else does he look at someone like that aside from… you.

Yes, you--the one he used to prioritize most of the time, even more than himself. Only now, he had grown tired of it--you had grown tired of it. Why did you even grew exhausted, anyway?

Questions, questions, but the result was right in front of you before you could even formulate an answer. He had flew away from you now--maybe even for the better.

TAGLIST (pls send an ask to be added!)

@softlybeloved @rim0na @icecappa @cozykaii @scaraslover @beastielevi @cursedraiden @thesatanofpizza @izayanna @stellumi @coco-goat-milk @nonniechan @m3gitsune @thispenguinrocks @chuubear @kiyoobi @catisnerd @ventislatte @weakestpoint @pinkfei-main @aweebstuff @zhongchi14

[mittai]

wait im curious what were those literary fiction you've read and enjoyed?

recent books i've read + my short blurb on them:

chronicle of a death foretold by gabriel garcía márquez. this novella is so good like it's now one my all-time favorites! it's about a murder that took place 27 years ago in public in the narrator's hometown and the killers were acquitted. the narrator comes back to investigate, not who did it, but how it could've possibly occurred without intervention. themes include: gender, fate vs free will, responsibility, agency, truth (fact, fiction & memory) etc. i also love márquez's prose style, it's incredibly light and beautiful. and he uses it to great effect in plot, characterization, and worldbuilding. the brevity of this novel is its strength, every word carries purpose and meaning. if i had to recommend one book on this list, this is it. this book manages to balance subtle nuance and pointed urgency, all written in truly lovely prose.

the hour of the star by clarice lispector. i really liked this book, but it may not be for everyone. the prose, narration, and pacing are definitely unusual, and it demands a patient and willing reader. however, i found it to be worth it. the book follows macabéa, a poor 19 year old girl living in the slums of rio de janeiro and works as a typist. the book narrates her life through the perspective of s.m. rodrigo, who is also a character in his own right. themes include: gender, selfhood, truth, language, class, and agency.

mrs dalloway by virginia woolf. this one was a reread. i read it way back in 9th grade, but i don't think i was a mature enough reader to appreciate it. and i also barely remembered it, so i picked it up recently. this is also a book that demands some patience (most of it is quite slow paced) and an open mind. the prose style is also experimental (less than lispector's), and the book's plot seems almost secondary at times. the characters are rarely traditional heroic protagonists, but often feel more human because of it. themes include: gender, class, time, communication & loneliness, private vs. public. i'd say this book's one weakness is probably its mellowness – it feels at times too easy to detach from, and is far less likely to linger with urgency in the reader's mind. i did however, enjoy woolf's prose, which managed to elevate both the setting, characters, and plot; as well as the plot's climax, which came late in the book, but felt well-written. also love love love the city of london as a setting and as a character in this book.

homegoing by yaa gyasi. this book's reputation is well-earned! the book follows two half-sisters in colonial africa, one who is enslaved and taken to the us, and the other who marries an englishman and remains in africa. it follows them and their children for several generations (in the us and in africa), until two of their descendants meet again. it manages an ambitious cast with dexterity – i never confused any of the characters, and it further manages to craft powerful stories that never get lost in the progression of generations. gyasi weaves into her stories motifs that haunt families generations down the line, and brings history to life. the story follows these families from colonial africa to the civil war to renaissance harlem to the modern-day, and gives us a portal into each of these time periods.

[gigiwritess]

Dull — Michael Corleone

masterlist. | michael corleone.

Pairing: Michael Corleone x fem!OC Tatiana van Doren

Plot: Tatiana and Michael have always been pushing each other’s buttons. One day, when confronting him about a deal that went south, their relationship takes a different path.

Warnings: cursing, sexual themes — choking, vaginal fingering, intercourse, unprotected sex, edging. 

Word-count: 2,555

Kinktober: prompts — • 4. begging • 10. against the wall • 11. hatesex • 12. fingering • 13. edging • 32. choking

Author’s note: Wassup people!!! Sorry for taking so long to write something. I finally wrote something about one of my all-time favorite characters, who doesn’t have a big fandom but should. If you don’t know what The Godfather is about, all you need to know is that they’re gangsters and this man is perfect. This lovely piece I wrote alongside the most precious being on universe that’s @pacinorose! I love you so much and I can’t thank you enough for entering my life. I haven’t written smut in four years and this is my first attempt at it. This is also my 1st official post for kinktober. About the banner/gif: @littlefreya​‘s inspired me to do one. The gif edition is mine, but I don’t know who the gif itself belongs to (let me know if you do). I really ope you all enjoy it! Also, not beta’d. xoxo 

     Tatiana van Doren was not a force to mess up with. The van Doren family and the Corleones had always been on each other’s bad side. Their mutual hatred transpassed the invisible strings of time and, all that despise, disdain and hostility towards each other carried on through generations and generations. It definitely hadn’t missed out on Tatiana van Doren and Michael Corleone, the oldest children to take over the two businesses.

      Interaction between the two of them was always hard. The only exceptions were when both had to attend any kind of social gatherings, where they had to maintain politeness and grace. Usually, they were always at each other’s throats like cat and rat, always pushing each other’s buttons to nothing but pure and inexplicable rage. Michael always made Tatiana turn into an angry beast who wouldn’t keep quiet, and she did the same thing to him. He couldn't even recognize himself when he was around her. Michael always tried his best to suppress his emotions and stay indifferent, but with her, he just couldn’t do that. He brought out the worse in her, and she did the same to him.

      So, that meant that business between them was nearly impossible. They'd joined forces against a common enemy and that involved mastering a hazardous business deal which included exchanging weapons imported from the docks. Of course, it hadn’t been easy to find something both agreed on.

      “Miss van Do-”, Michael’s secretary started to speak, standing in a flash from his chair in a futile attempt to try and stop her.

      Tatiana was on a warpath as she blasted through his office door and almost took it off its hinges. She didn’t give a damn about discretion and was ready to take out the revolver from her thigh holster and shoot any bastard that dared to stand in her way.

      Michael’s eyes were wide from the action as he snapped his head up from his work. His eyes soon narrowed when he saw exactly who had interrupted him and caused such a scene. Her dark, doe-eyes no longer had that sparkle full of mischief and teasing. Instead, they held complete and utter anger as she pierced holes into him, her chest weaving up and down in an erratic rhythm.

      “I tried to stop her, Mr Corleone. I’m sorr-,” his secretary started. Michael interrupted him putting his hand up, a gesture for him to be quiet before he silently dismissed him and he left both alone.

      Michael took a deep breath and finally brought his eyes back to the brunette girl. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her day-to-day teasing and uncontrollable annoying mouth, that just wouldn’t close without spurting snarky comments about how he conducted his work.

      “Do you not listen, princess?” he asked with a calm voice,  his brow arching in question. He clenched his jaw so tightly he thought his teeth might crunch under the tension of his frustration, .

      Tatiana’s face completely fell in disbelief at his audacity, and her eyes soared into his so intensely the Corleone almost took a step back. Him calling her like that made her blood boil, and he knew that.

      “I’m sorry? I don’t fucking listen?!” the words started to violently fall from her lips, like bullets hitting their targets. “I told you not to move the contraband under a fucking full moon! We agreed on that! And what do you go and do?!” she asked, prodding her index finger towards him as she spoke. Her eyes were wild with fury as she looked at him.

      While she did her small angry speech, Michael couldn’t help but notice how well that floral-print summer dress hugged her body, leaving little to the imagination. To his imagination, that would happily fill in the gaps late at night, both when he couldn’t sleep and when he’d dream of her. Of course, his dark desires were well hidden as he kept a stern look and averted his eyes back to his desk. He moved his hand to align a piece of paper that fell as he stood up to confront the intruder in his office, shrugging her comment off with an emotionless glance.

      This only pissed her off more.

      “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” she continued, striding in front of him so she'd force him to make eye contact. She was fuming. “My men could’ve been caught because of you. Because you’re so fucking dull.”

      Her fast breathing matched his clenched body, and she couldn’t help but feel a shiver run right through her while he looked down into her eyes. He seemed to be staring right through her. They'd never been so close before and, by how he was staring at her, she couldn’t help but feel like a prey, about to be devoured by its predator.

      “You’re a dull fucking bastard,” she mumbled, not even a bit intimidated by him.

      He inhaled so quickly and sharply before he brought his hand up to her throat, she had no time to register what had happened. Tatiana winced as she felt the impact of her back hitting the wall, her eyes immediately locking onto his. She wasn’t surprised by his action. Instead, it surprised her with the effect it was having on her. Her body was tingling everywhere, sending shivers through her spine and sending a fire straight down to her core. The feeling of Michael’s strong hand clenched around her throat, not hurting but still strong enough to keep her in place, was doing more to her than she wanted to admit. That she would like to admit. He could squeeze the life out of her if he wanted to — the predator could easily devour his prey. But by the look on his eyes, she knew those weren’t his plans.

      She gathered her posture back up, that mischievous glint that he so much hated returning to her eyes. Even though she wanted to be devoured by him, she couldn’t help the words coming out of her mouth.

      “What are you going to do, Michael? Kill me,” she asked, her voice slower than usual, “or fuck me?” she rolled out the last words with the pop of her tongue, sounding almost like a purr.

      Unsurprisingly, he slammed his lips down to hers, pressing her further against the wall, his hand still strong on her throat. Then, he pulled away abruptly as his hand loosened its grip around her neck, uncertainty making its way to his mind. As Tatiana slowly opened her eyes, he thought that she was the most beautiful woman on Earth at that moment, without the ice wall she had built around herself. He knew that doing what she did, she had to protect herself, but she was even prettier when she didn’t need to hear that mask. And she definitely didn’t have to wear it around him. Michael could see straight through her without any effort.

      Tatiana could see his jaw clenching as she brought her hand to his neck, slowly dancing her fingertips over his skin. As they reached his face, her eyes repeatedly travelled from his lips to his eyes, which were following every single one of her movements with attention. His chocolate eyes softened at the look of longing in hers, but then it was gone as fast as it came as she smirked up at him. Her fingers finally reached his lips, tracing a line in them before moving her hand to the back of his neck and entwining in his soft hair as she stood on her tiptoes and brought her lips to his, pulling him closer by the neck. It was slow and sensual, giving each other to explore that uncharted path that they had been longing to discover for a long time now. His hand left her throat and travelled down her back, while the other found the back of her neck. Their kiss got needier and hungrier by the second, the mutual desire finally coming to light after being repressed and ignored for so long. They kissed until both couldn’t breathe, pulling away and kissing again, letting their tongues dance together in a harmony they could only find in each other.

      She could feel herself getting flushed, her skin hot, as if she could make fireworks explode every single time that sinful mouth of his made contact with her skin. He was kissing a path down her neck and her collarbone, quickly pulling down and exposing her breasts, begging for his attention. The shape of his erection pressed against her felt like hard marble, and it only made her even wetter than she already was, feeling her panties soaked.

      A moan left her lips as his hot mouth sucked on her breast, and Michael felt his cock twitch in pain at that heavenly sound. He hadn’t even touched her where she needed him the most, but she was already a panting mess from his kisses alone. He knew he was going to leave marks on her body as he sucked, kissed and bit every piece of skin available to his reach.

      Her heart skipped some beats as he started kneading on her thigh, her whole body tensing with expectation and anticipation as his hand went up slowly. She knew he was doing that on purpose — he wanted to torture her, and it was working. Michael finally found the hem of her underwear and stole the air out of her lungs when one of his fingers dipped down her cunt, meeting no restrain.

      “So wet for me,” he whispered in her ear, watching carefully every reaction that crossed her beautiful face.

      “Fuck,” she muttered.

      Tatiana had to cling to his white shirt as his finger swiftly entered her, moans and sighs leaving her mouth as they pleased. Her eyes fluttered closed as he started moving up and down, his finger soon joined by another, while his other hand remained on the side of her head.

      But his torture wasn’t going to end. When her heart started beating faster and her breathing got unstable, he slowed down, only to speed up again when her breathing went back to normal. Over and over and over again, lever letting her chase her high. He could see the eagerness and irritation on her face. The fact that she was entirely at his mercy and under his control only made him harder, if that was even possible.

      “Michael…” she moaned. He could hear the exasperation in her voice.

      “Yes, princess? he replied in a mocking tone, never stopping his movements.

      He knew how impatient she was growing.

      “I… I want you,” she admitted, making a smirk appear on the corner of his lips.

      God, how ironic it was for the roles to be inverted.

      “You’re gonna have to be more specific, darling,” he said, his hot breath against her neck.

       “I want you,” she repeated, this time staring into his eyes. Her voice was nothing but a desperate plea. “Your cock, buried deep inside me. Please," she muttered, almost whining. "Please, fuck me. Please!”

      Her raspy voice full of desire and need turned a switch inside of him. Having her beg for him was exactly what he wanted, and now he just couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted her too, badly, and he couldn’t wait to be inside her. Pulling his fingers out, he held her by her thighs as he picked her up and placed her on his desk, throwing its contents to the floor and not giving a fuck about it.

      Tatiana watched impatiently as he unbuckled his belt and finally released his cock, painfully hard. She couldn’t help but lick her lips as she wondered how it would feel on her mouth, against her tongue.

      And then he thrust into her, and she felt like her brain had short-circuited and stopped working. Was she even alive? Was she breathing?

      "Like this?" he asked, but she couldn’t even reply. "You like it when I fuck you like a whore?" his voice was almost aggressive, his hands holding tight on her hips where he knew would be purple tomorrow.

      A breathy "yes" left her lips, followed by a series of moans that only made him even closer, feeling the way her velvet walls enveloped him with perfection.

      "I bet,” she started to say, but a loud moan interrupted her, “you've… you’ve dreamed..." it was hard for her to finish her sentence, getting harder and harder to form coherent thoughts, "of this."

      Even with his cock thrusting in and out of her and hitting every right angle, making her roll her eyes with bliss and see stars, she still managed to be snarky.

      “All the fucking time," he growled back, and one of his hands found its way to her throat, squeezing lightly, testing the waters. His other hand was busy, rubbing circles in her clit that made her feel as if she was going to explode.

      He knew he was in good waters when his name left her ajar lips in a scream, Tatiana shutting her eyes closed, overwhelmed with the pleasure building up inside of her. Quite satisfied with himself, he applied a lot more pressure around her neck, and he felt her getting tighter around him.

      "Fucking you on my desk until you couldn't speak was all I wanted when you wouldn't shut up," he said, punctuating his last words with some particularly hard thrusts.

      "Michael," she moaned, almost begged, and his name on her voice could've made him come alone. It could easily turn into one of his favourite sounds, and he could get used to hearing it all day long.

      Well, he had fulfilled his goal — she was nothing but a moaning mess under him right now. She couldn’t form a sentence even if she wanted to, her brain simply wasn’t working. The only word that came out of her lips in-between moans and sighs at that moment, the only word she knew, was “Michael”, chanting his name like a prayer as if he was a god meant for her to praise.

      He admired her as she threw her head back in complete bliss, her eyes clenched tightly and her mouth agape as the pleasure overtook her. Her hands were gripping the edges of his mahogany desk so firmly that her knuckles were turning white. No one could say this was the mighty, feared Tatiana van Doren, cheeks red and flushed, out of breath and eyes out of focus, her breasts exposed, spread out on his desk while he impaled her with his cock, each time sending her over the edge and into oblivion. To him, she had never looked prettier.

      Michael was completely enthralled by her, mesmerized by the way she moved, her face, her expressions, the way she grasped his cock and made him see stars. It was as if she’d cast a spell on him, making him feel like no one had ever done before. Now that he finally had had a taste of her and her ferocity, he couldn’t let her go anymore. He couldn’t even understand how he’d gone so long without her, but now he knew he definitely couldn’t keep on without her.

      Who would have imagined all it’d take to tame a beast was another beast?

[sevensided]

how did you get into writing fic? i'd love to start but idk even where to begin! I loved adats so I was wondering do you have any advice?

Oh my goodness! I am so flattered you’ve asked me this. Yes, I can absolutely help. I’ll throw a bunch of rambling under the cut.

I started writing fic probably when I was... sixteen years old? A lot of my early works were oneshots. I couldn’t figure out how to do anything plot heavy for the life of me, so I just stuck to AUs or whatever I felt like. I wasn’t in any particular fandom -- I really wrote whatever I had ideas for. I remember I tried once to do a plot-heavy story and I received a review absolutely ripping it to shreds. Like, it was so cruel I cried lol. I ended up deleting the fic. Years later, I get what they were trying to say (basically, more substance, less style), but at the time it cut to the quick. Really, it was only when I was in my twenties that I started writing work that was longer and/or better.

The fandom that helped me actually write plot heavy work was a historical-based fandom. As I’m a historian, it was perfect. I got to use my research skills and knowledge to create works that, above all, aimed to feel authentic. I mainly read historical fiction, so I was familiar with how that genre worked. Miraculously, people loved my work. I think I wrote about ~200k in the period of a year? These were several short stories (20-40k) and a few oneshot filler fics. While I was part of this fandom I also helped organise a Big Bang which was a lot of hard work but was extremely rewarding. Along with that, I interacted mainly with other fic writers, so I spent a lot of time chatting to people about ideas and encouraging other writers, and it just created a lovely medley where no concept was impossible or any line of dialogue too difficult. We supported each other and it was truly like a little commune. I gradually stepped away from the fandom mainly because it was just a part of my life at a very specific time, and almost as soon as that time was over, my love for that story/ship faded, but I firmly believe I figured out a lot of how/what I do now purely through that experience.

Regarding ADATS

With ADATS, it stemmed entirely from wanting to “explain” three months in canon (at the end of season three). I was interested in the idea of season four setting up Will/Mike in canon, and I wanted to test the source material to see if I could draw from what already existed to create something authentic. I began with that simple idea: what happened from July to October in 1985? Then I thought about the major themes I wanted to hit -- family, friendship, coming of age, sexuality -- and I nested them around the bigger concept: how do I get Mike from being ostensibly straight to realising he is gay? That meant thinking of two steps: Mike discovering his attraction to guys; Mike discovering his attraction to Will. Those two concepts were separate “arcs” that needed addressing in different ways. Balance was key to weaving them together and making the reader feel like they knew what was coming (and that they felt smart for putting the pieces together) without just rushing through and going “now kiss!” That’s partly why ADATS needs a sequel, lol: because it’s not finished!

Writing process

The first thing I do when I start to get an idea is I write it down. Sounds obvious. But when you have a killer line of dialogue come to you in the shower and you think “I’ll remember that” -- reader, you will not remember it. You gotta get it down ASAP! I do that the whole way through, as generally I’ll be thinking of scenes I’m stuck on and then it’ll just come to me and I’ll quickly jot it down.

The next thing -- or what I do in the meantime -- is start structuring. I plan. I try to plan a lot. Sometimes it’s okay to write “and something happens here to get them here”, because you’ll figure it out later, but for the most part I’ve discovered that planning is like gold and you can’t get enough of it. I break my work up into generally 3-4 parts/sections, and I treat each section like a mini story. So each part needs a conflict and resolution, and it needs to flow into the next section. You need to have a feeling of things evolving and maturing. Once I’ve planned those little bits, I start thinking about the bigger plot arc and how I can drop in hints along the way. I’m probably not a subtle or skilled enough writer to yet pull off that sort of gasping twist you get in really excellent books, but I’m trying to get there. It’s hard, is what I’m trying to say, but that’s okay, because we’re all learning.

Then I generally do aesthetic stuff. Sounds stupid, probably. But nothing helps me get more into a mood than doing a Pinterest board or -- most of all -- making a Spotify mix. I start thinking about the vibe and the general atmosphere, and then I almost exclusively listen to that mix when I’m working. Sort of like muscle memory? Just to get the creative juices associated with that particular selection of songs.

Another thing I’ll do along with plot structure is character structure. This is a biggie. I mean, a story is nothing without characters. So I’ll just jot down a bunch of bullet points of characters and particular aspects that I want to highlight or remember. I hate continuity errors in fiction. Like, if someone says they work on Maple Street but later in the fic they’re working on Pine Street. I hate that. So I keep note of specific things that my main character might notice at repeated points in the story (colours, places, smells, names, sounds -- so they’re all consistent even as the narrative evolves). That’s another thing -- your characters’ motivations. Not everyone is going to be a huge player, but they all do serve a purpose. The most important character is obviously your main character. I personally think it’s important to let your M.C. be an arse at times. They’re going to be mean, they’re going to misinterpret things or fly off the handle... just let ‘em. Let them be wretched humans, and then bring them back and make them realise what they’ve done. Let them learn! I love consequences in fiction, lol.

At the same time, I’ll probably start writing. We’ve already written down some snippets of neat dialogue or descriptions, but now we should start the actual process. For me, I used to start at the beginning. Usually this was the most fleshed out anyway: I’ll have a clear idea of the beginning and the end, but nothing in the middle. These days, if I have a scene in mind that I can’t forget, I’ll just write it. It will possibly get scrapped or rewritten, but that’s okay, because at least you’ve got it down and now you can devote your brain power to something useful (like figuring out what the middle is supposed to be). I’ll have half a dozen of totally out of context scenes just littered in my Word document that I’ll add to as I go along. Eventually, though, you’re going to start writing properly, and that’s when you write your opening scene.

Opening scenes: super important. Every time I write a scene I think: what is the point of this? What do I want the reader to learn or takeaway? Sometimes you do have filler scenes, but they also serve a different purpose (perhaps to establish a group dynamic or to explore/describe a character’s surroundings). Mainly, though, every scene should push something forward in some way, whether it’s character development or a plot point. So, with an opening scene, I always think you have to establish: where you are; who you are; what they are doing; where they’ve come from (in a philosophical and practical sense); and where they’re going (ditto). That doesn’t have to happen in the first paragraph -- that would be silly. But if you sprinkle that information in over time it’ll gradually build up a picture of your character and that way the reader can get an idea of who they are. You basically need to give a snapshot of what your story is about. This also goes back to the character creator stuff: where they are at the start should be different to where they end up. How that happens is, of course, because of plot, and because you’ve structured everything to the nth degree, we’ve got a very clear progression of that character’s growth (/s easier said than done lol).

General advice

Write down everything: every idea, a bit of dialogue, a description, whatever. Write it down. Doesn’t have to be neat. Just has to be on paper. You can’t remember everything, so if you’re spending time trying to hold those things in your head, it’s taking up space for new ideas to come along.

Structure, plan, structure, plan. Sometimes it’s boring and I hate it. Other times, when I’ve not written in a few days and I open the Word doc and think wtf is this supposed to be, I am very grateful for Past Me for leaving such detailed notes. Seriously, it helps so much. Oneshots don’t really need planning, in my experience. You just get those out there. But multi-chaptered stories really do, even ones that “just” focus on a relationship.

Whatever you want to write, commit to it. Space goblins invade Hawkins? Do it. Eleven and Max find themselves in a cult akin to Midsommar (2019) and must escape? Yes. Just... whatever you want to do, remember that you’re writing it for you. Write what most interests you, what makes you when you reread it go AHHHHH I LOVE THIS!! Because that makes it a thousand times easier to actually get on with the writing when you enjoy what you’re doing.

Write a lot. Every day, if you can, or at least at designated times. Occasionally I have a very specific headspace/vibe I have to be in, but sometimes it just hits me and I’ll say to my partner “I need to write now” and just disappear, lol. The more you write the more you write. It’s so, so, so true. Cannot emphasise this enough. When I wrote that ~200k in twelve months? It was because I literally wrote every. day. Or near enough. Remember that some days you’ll write 200 words, and other days you’ll write 20k (this happened to me with ADATS -- part of the reason I finished it so quickly was because I had sprints of writing 10k+ at a time that only happened because I was in the rhythm of it). Write, write, write. Who cares if it’s crap! No one will see it until you are ready. In the meantime, just write!

Probably last of all (although I could go on and on) is connect with other writers. If you’re struggling to start, sometimes just talking about it can help a huge amount. I hope it goes without saying that you can message me whenever you want, anon or not, and I will talk to you. We can talk about ideas or I can beta stuff, whatever you want! Find like-minded people and talk to them about what you want to do. Another thing this helps is in advertising your work when you do publish. I see a lot of first time fic writers get super down because they publish their magnum opus on AO3 but no one comments. Honestly, it’s because no one knows you’ve published! You don’t have to be tooting your own horn every which way, but just actively talking about your work and even collaborating with other content creators with get you hyped and other people too (and the input and encouragement other fandom members give is just... out of this world. Anon messages helped me finish ADATS when I was really worried I wouldn’t [that’s the truth]. Seriously, support is everything). When you have people excited about your work, you get excited. It’s really as simple as that.

I could go on but this is already horrendously long. I hope even a bit of this helps! If you want to chat or have any more questions, just hit me up any time.

[mysimsloveaffair]

the “without fail” writing tag | by gilded-ghosts

rules: List five things that you, WITHOUT FAIL,  weave into or explore in your stories, whether it be specific themes or  tropes, character archetypes, allusions to other literary works, what have you! It really can be anything that you consistently include in your narratives for whatever reason. Then invite others to share theirs by tagging them!

@storiesbyjes2g, @capricornsim and @therichantsim, three incredibly talented writers tagged me for this. Thanks so much! Here goes...

1. Amazing Dads - I love to write amazing dads into my stories. Especially black dads, because, let's be honest - they tend to catch some flack in RL media. I've only ever been surrounded by incredible dads so I tend to navigate towards writing them. By the way, deadbeats come in all colors and races (and moms can be deadbeats, too), so when I do stray from the amazing dad model, color or race is not a deciding factor.

2. Flawed Characters - My characters mess up a lot. If you read my posts long enough, you will get upset at something that my characters do. I purposely give them at least one "negative" trait when I can, which allows me to explore the sometimes "ugly" side of being human (or, in this case, being a sim). 

3. Blunt Characters - I'm such a reserved, nonconfrontational person that I tend to write characters, particularly women, who are the exact opposite. I could never imagine saying or doing some of the things that my characters do and say, making it that much more fun to explore.

4. Character Growth - What's the point of writing a flawed character if they never show any growth? I'm big on growth and development because no one stays the same throughout their entire life. Circumstances, relationships, trials, and tribulations all work together to shape and mold characters. 

5. Generational Themes - Legacies are my favorite things to write because of the generational theme possibilities. Things that occur during one generation has consequences for the next generation and so on. It's fun once I get to the fifth or sixth generation, and I can look at how things got to be the way they are. 

6. Unplanned pregnancies (honorable mention) - I write legacies and a legacy requires a baby. If I don’t have time to go through the whole dating, engagement and marriage timeline, then surprise! We get a unplanned baby. (Actually, now that I think about it...have I ever actually planned a pregnancy in any of my stories? 🤣) 

I tag @treason-and-plot, @igglemouse, @alittledaylight and @anotherplumbob