#year of the tiger babey!!!

[opashoo]

I can't believe I never posted the first drawings I ever did of Panne onto tumblr! I made these back in 2020. I really ought to make her bangs wild like this again, bring back the ribbon-y quality to her hair.

Panne used to be a maid at the Berringold estate, and would return to her village on the weekends where she spent most of her time training at a martial arts school of little renown. Nowadays she's an adventurer who slips right into high society and nobility with ease, having been around it for so long, but she has no love for the elite, herself.

Otherwise she's a little hotheaded, a little eager, and loves the open road, though she can enjoy rather expensive tastes.

[fortheturnstiles]

got snacks on the way home from class gna get baked and watch across the universe

[wickedkinz]

oh y’know what?? i just remembered these guys I designed years ago for one of the pet design contests! yes i wanted them to make a regular cheetah

i started to design a stained-glass themed dragon too but i wasn’t having much luck making it look good :/

some of you may recognize the aurora tiger--I was a finalist but I lost to the kiwi and honestly? not mad about it bc kiwis are Babey

[numetalpuppygirl]

what i’m listening to 8/5/2022 (song notes under the cut)

spot link//yt link

Laura Les - Haunted: haunted. by laura les

Radiohead - Idioteque: i listened to kid a for the first time not too long ago and this track made me gasp when it came on. something about it just absolutely touches the base of my skull

Rina Sawayama - Hold The Girl: my fav of the singles so far from the upcoming record. rly like the kinda uk garage sound, plus the lyrics + video hit hard. stan rina, etc

Pharrell Williams - Cash In Cash Out (ft. 21 Savage and Tyler, the Creator): took a bit of warming up to but i came around. tyler’s verse is the standout here for me, and i like 21′s contributions too. tbh i think the weak link here was, surprisingly, pharrell’s beat, but hey. still gets points for being weird ig

ANGEL_TECH - Keysmash {RE:smashed}: new banger from melodus and metagirl! def my favorite angel_tech song so far. the remix in particular is super energetic

Limp Bizkit - Back Porch: bonus track on my least favorite bizkit album but good GOD is that riff cool as fuck. literally that alone makes it worth it

Steve Lacy - Bad Habit: delightfully quirky and refreshingly summery. i’m glad to see steve lacy continue to have bigger hits bc i don’t think anyone else is doing it quite like him

Radiohead - Everything In It’s Right Place: unlike idioteque, this one took a few relistens to click. i lovvve vocal chopping/mixing and this is that good shit. catchy AND scary! one of the most songs ever

10 Years - Wasteland: have i ever mentioned that i love post-grunge

Kanye West - Gold Digger (ft. Jamie Foxx): like 80% of the appeal here for me is really just the masterful ray charles sample. maybe i should just listen to more ray charles actually

Foo Fighters - Everlong: so touching to me... reaching out for the hand of your love and holding them tight and saying this life is hard and cold and cruel very often but we are here together and i will never falter from you and we will make this worth it. we have to. i feel confident saying this is one of the greatest songs ever

Dove Cameron - Boyfriend: yeah babey let’s see some wlw rep in the top 40!!!!!! this song’s sound is kinda derivative of the billie eilish ripoff sound that has become popular since 2019 but it adds a bit of a jazz kinda thing which is fun, and also more importantly is very hot

Coal Chamber - Loco: MI LOCO. MI LOCO. MI LOCO. MI LOCO.

DJ Rozwell - F1 Tiger Road: soumds

Sugar Ray - Fly: in a surprising twist, i prefer sugar ray’s pop material VASTLY to their early nu metal shit

Limp Bizkit - Head For The Barricade: STICK EM. STICK EM.

Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz - Get Low (ft. Ying Yang Twins): do i have to say anything here? this is a total classic banger

Maroon 5 - This Love: OKAY! FINE! i’ll admit there is ONE! ONE singular maroon 5 song that i like....

Thousand Foot Krutch - Move: this song fucking sucks!!!! but it’s very funny to me. bc mr. krutch wants so badly to be like a tough nu metal guy but his voice is so thin and nothing that he just can’t 😭 i did steal this talking point from a crash thompson video btw

[topazadine]

No one needs to know this but HERE GOES

this is what I imagine the touken smell like 

I’ve covered a few of these in my fics but here are some MORE

Tsurumaru: awful super-sugary Bath and Body Works perfume

Midare: awful super-sugary Bath and Body Works perfume that he stole from Tsurumaru

Kashuu: also awful Bath and Body Works perfume, but mixed with nail polish

Yamantonokami: Irish Spring soap

Mikazuki: sandalwood and tea

Izuminokami: cedarwood and rage

Horikawa: cedarwood, but overpoweringly so because he obviously just stole Kane-san’s cologne when he wasn’t looking and accidentally spilled it all over himself

Kasen: fabric softener teehee

Yamanbagiri: dirt, or, should I say, ~petrichor~

Shokudaikiri: soy sauce, maybe a lil garlic

Azuki: sugar cookies and sunshine

Ichigo: saddle soap (horse gurls u know what I mean)

Assorted Tantos: varies by the day, depending on whether Ichigo was able to wrestle them into using deodorant and taking a bath

Houchou: Red Bull

Hakata: cold hard cash (and Red Bull)

Yagen: chloroform

Tonbokiri: old fur coat, but not, like, gross

Hasebe: Axe Body Spray

Okurikara: knockoff Axe Body Spray

Kogistunemaru: fox (ugh)

Nakigistune: fox, but he’s trying to mask it with cheap cologne and it’s not working very well

Uguisumaru: matcha powder and Tiger Balm

Ookanehira: testosterone and honesty

Nikkari: wet stone and ghosts

Ishikirimaru: lotus incense

Juzumaru: room that’s been closed up forever and now you just opened it and it smells surprisingly nice in there?

Mutsunokami: gunpowder and motor oil

Honebami: iron rust ... no, the smell of blood

Namazuo: come on y’all. It’s horse shit.

Oodenta: metal and veggies :3

Osayo: veggies and hay

Kousetsu: waterfall

Higekiri: Chanel no 5 (wurk it babey)

Hizamaru: Allure by Chanel (cos he’s gotta be matchy-matchy)

Souza: old lady perfume that’s been sitting in someone’s bathroom for like five decades and has gone bad

Chiyoganemaru: kelp and goat butter

Nankaitarou: locally sourced artisan perfume made of rare orchids that bloom only once every 500 years, cold pressed, organic, vegan

Sanchoumou: motorcyle

Otegine: wet Labrador Retriever

Doudanaki: gym locker room

Jiroutachi: sake

Taroutachi: sake

Nihongou: sake

Fudou: sake

[sugar4thepill]

1998 and 2022 have the exact same vibe. Why? Year of the tiger 🐯 babey!!!

[dentalhickory]

Oh? Another Tag Game? This one is to get to know you better.

Tagged by @trans-sachlichkeit. Oh goodness, thanks for that. Um... ok let's do it.

What book are you currently reading?

I've been reading American Gods for a long while, and I'm only about half way through. If online stuff coults I'm also reading Dungeon Meshi (waiting for the next update) and Worm (Warning: bugs)(Also I've only read the first chapter)

What do you usually wear?

Not a huge fan, but it's usually a t-shirt and khakis. Or like... lounge pants around the house. I'm trying to branch out a little with skirts, shorts, dresses, tank tops, or whatever, but also a little scared to.

How tall are you?

6 Footish (drivers license says 6' 1" but I don't believe it)

What's your star sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or historical event?

... I share a birthday with John Egbert, you might not know them though. Also something about Tiger Woods winning something.

Do you go by your name or a nickname?

I tell people to just say my name. I think I've only ever had a nick name twice in school with a specific groups that I don't interact with anymore. Or just a shortening of my user name for people online. (Den)

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be as a child?

I wanted to be a game developer/programmer. then maybe just work on modeling/rigging. And well... I guess I still could, but the lack of unions and the time commitment/demand is well... a bit of a turn off. So no.

What's something you're good at vs something you're bad at?

Good at math, but can't read.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what's your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you've created this year?

Like to do more, just not feeling it most of the time. But when I do I usually just doodle. I've been uh... writing more recently though. It's been a pretty dry year so I'll just show a painting from forever ago that I like.

Dogs or cats?

They both like me and I like them both. I've had more cats in my life though (from family and friends) so I guess cats.

What's something you'd like to create content for?

Oh! I've already done this one! I've been (extremely slowly) making Avatars for VRChat out of Animal Crossing Villagers. I've been only doing Cats so far, and anytime I make progress they update the SDK, so I kinda hold off on making too much progress. Maybe I should make an Avatar world for them... and also get VR so I can actually test them out.

What's something you're currently obsessed with?

Hm... I guess Destiny 2? A new season came out and I'm trying to work through it. But it's hard to say I'm obsessed. My physical appearance I guess, too. Clothes and face, working on the facial fair specifically... there is a lot.

What's something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

First time going to a gay bar. Went with a friend, but they ended up leaving with someone else. So uh, not fun.

What's a hidden talent of yours?

I'm really good at untangling things. Even like small chain jewelry.

What's something you wish to have at this moment?

Cute clothes that fits and some boots. Also a regular appetite.

Goodness, that was a lot. But I enjoyed that! um... tag people... hm... @babey @shanking-in-the-moonlight @tavitikki @greenbit5721 @evig-sang @wigdevil No pressure, It's a bit long, but eh, there you go.

[zmeu-ra]

first ever New Years kiss

Okay but for real, 2022 was such a bangin' year for me it wasn't even fair. I moved out of home, I got a wonderful gorlfriend, I figured out my career better, and so much more. It was my Year of the Tiger, babey! Here's to a great 2023 too.

[torchiiko]

I posted 421 times in 2022

That's 306 more posts than 2021!

146 posts created (35%)

275 posts reblogged (65%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@/amamozarte

@/spamtonromantic

@/eldritchstingray

@/blackraggedyandy

@/torchiiko

I tagged 420 of my posts in 2022

#rb - 261 posts

#deltarune - 137 posts

#save - 119 posts

#spamton - 89 posts

#nerd time - 85 posts

#torch chatter - 61 posts

#pokemon - 41 posts

#ramble - 39 posts

#submas - 23 posts

#rc9gn - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#prior to him i did have a little tiger beanie boo who was so well loved that it was noticebly more decrepit(?) than one my sister got later

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

i Love spamton x readers where spamtons in like. an unconventional form, like hes a virus in your computer or he gets isekaid into your world as a living doll

That being said: in the "spamton lives in your computer" stories, reader downloads him accidentally or out of pity but What If they were a youtuber who talked about computer worms and viruses and downloaded him On Purpose in a virtual machine to showcase him

they narrate everything he does while screen recording like "oh see, its trying to access my microphone now. this is why you have to be careful about what programs you run, im using a vm so it should be contained and cant get into my actual files" and spamtons like "wtf. wtf"

little desktop spamton contained in the virtual machine while reader makes videos on him bc they and their audience think hes neat. they compliment his complexity and how much hes seemingly able to do, not knowing hes a whole little guy in there and not just a random computer virus

131 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

#4

hey i made another poll 4 spamton fans!!!

2022 version babey!! this one has a lot more questions and more answers based on responses from the last one! im just curious how everyones feelings abt our favorite guy might differ from a year ago

now includes questions abt sneo, the spamton plush, and your favorite design headcanons! responses are public so have fun once theres actually enough to read through

ive heard tumblr doesnt like links so for the sake of getting more ppl to see this (and thus more answers to read which is the best part), please reblog!

132 notes - Posted November 17, 2022

#3

littol inscryption hcs :)

while leshy kinda has shut-in vibes i feel like like hes actually more the type to Never be home!! if you wanna challenge him you have to go find him in the woods and hes like up in a tree taking regular pictures of all the animals he sees (inscrybing everything would not be good for the ecosystem)

follow up he likes to think outside.. got like a huge rock he chills on where he brainstorms stuff for his games.. the Thinking Rock

probably bathes in a river or waterfall tbh. he doesnt need soap the sheer force of the water is enough to cleanse him

the fact that p03 has a mechanic where bot cards can have beast forms implies he doesnt hate them :) he feels positively enough to add them to his cards at least!!

although he can display pretty much anything he wants on his monitor, it still takes him considerable effort to hide his expressions! accidentally showing his smile only to immediately switch back to neutral like "you didnt see that"

being good friends with him would obviously include lots of playful + affectionate bullying but also the occasional sappy moment where he will either respond equally as sappy and/or threaten to kill you bc hes overwhelmed with the kindness

grimora treats her ghouls very well and visiting her is always a delight! the type to not let you leave without giving you a gift of some kind, be it a nice meal or a new pack of cards

she always tells the ghosts and ghouls they died bc they have to know at some point, but she makes sure to be gentle about it and is ready for whatever reaction they may have

yknow what! i think shed think p03s technology is cool!! all the scrybes feel a little old fashioned but shes quite interested in the modern stuff even if she isnt used to it or doesnt really understand it, but she tries!

man idk whats up with magnificus. giving him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he was trying to do a sort of tough love approach with his students but in a weird twisted kinda way?? that or he was like "ah you idolize me? lol cringe [puts your head on a pike forever]"

he should have a wizard hat. i think he does have one somewhere but he got bullied into not wearing it

itd be really funny if his eyes see color differently so to him hes making these really gorgeous masterpieces but everyone else sees the colors normally and its just an awful awful mess. imagine if he sees things really bright and almost neon so everything he paints ends up being incredibly dull and slightly the wrong color

147 notes - Posted February 2, 2022

#2

forever thinking about how hunter specifically said belos Found him. that he didnt think he would make it in the boiling isles bc of his lack of magic. the Implications guys,,, either belos didnt raise hunter from birth/creation Or grimwalkers can be made with false memories

cuz its like! that implies hunter had some kind of life before belos, whether it was real or a memory he implanted and i need to know what happened before belos, even if its just what hunter thinks happened

148 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

what if ingo and emmet had a shared pokemon version of instagram account for posting pictures they take of various trains and like. its not exactly Secret but theres nothing that really ties it to them bc its just about The Trains

but one day part of one of their shoes and like the edge of their coat is ever so slightly in frame and it goes viral bc this random little inconspicuous train fan account was actually run by the Subway Bosses of the Unova Battle Subway, 2 quite powerful and well known trainers in the region. and of course the internet would lose their minds over something like that

they wake up with like millions more followers and tons of comments like "I NEVER KNEW THIS ACCOUNT EXISTED??" and "thats. ingos shoe. he and emmet are the only people in the world who wear shoes like that"

ingos like "how did they all find out it was us??" and emmets reading the comments and says "ah, you were just barely in frame in this photo. thats how they identified us" and then they do nothing about it. they never speak about it publicly they just keep posting their train photos and ignoring dms

704 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[spaceman-spaetzle]

🎉 End of Year Review 🎉

hehe this looked fun to try so i'm gonna fill it out too :3

1. What fandoms did you create for?

h*talia smhhhh

2. How many works did you make this year? Fics (posted on ao3 or tumblr or wherever), edits, gifsets, moodboards, playlists, fanart, vids, meta?

i made a lot of fanart and i'm really proud to say that i've written 3 fanfics (the one with japan was originally written in 2020)! it's not a lot but it's a lot more than what i'm used to. in fact, it's my first time i've properly posted fanfiction online if you dont count a couple fics ive posted on dA when i was like 14-15. i've also written plenty of headcanons!

3. What are you most proud of?

i'm actually really proud of finishing 2 multi-chapter fanfics this year. it's REALLY hard for me to finish, hell, even start on writing projects so this is a big deal to me.

4. Any stats you wanna tell us about?

lost and found, my noraus fic, got 43 kudos and 581 views despite circulating around a very rare ship! thank you guys for supporting it!

5. What inspired you this year? Any specific works or creators?

okok so a Lot of people inspired me this year in general, but lemme name a couple.

i'm very glad that i befriended @artistocrazy this year! we worked on an art/fic trade together and it was SO much fun and really got the creative juices flowing. he never runs out of fun content and i love it when he shares his endless ideas with me.

technically, i met @hetarehetalia in 2020, but it was toward the very end of that year so we really started befriending each other in 2021! they're a marvelous pal and ngl has gotten me somewhat invested in romano. i'm always impressed when people are convincing enough to get me into characters i've never considered, especially when some of those characters are heta ocs. i love their ocs. cute art and great content altogether too!

hoping to talk to @fireandiceland more often! they're iconic and always have the writing bug. i envy that and wanna ask them on how they're able to write so much quality content.

i don't know @viva-prince nor @bougietalia but i just want them both to know that i'm in love with their art styles! (hope yall dont mind being @///ed by a random person)

6. What’s a piece you didn’t expect to make? Why?

erzsebet and the beasts, probably. i'm not a frequent fanfic writer as ive mentioned, but i was able to write it in a record of under a week and had a blast. writing AND illustrating for your own fic is a lot of work.

7. What are you excited to work on next year?

i'm actually considering writing a sequel to eatb! i really want to expand on characters and personalities that i'm able to write. i don't know where to start yet but i think it'd be great practice.

Tag some people!

i got this from @hetarehetalia but ngl anyone's allowed to try this out :)

[71eh]

it’s the year of the tiger!

[clovercacti]

happy new years guys!! @ my mutuals and irls ive lost contact w but are still mutuals ily <3 cant believe it was my 10th year being on this website... 2012 was a pretty good year for me lets recreate that energy a decade later we got this besties

[yamsarts]

💖💚

[crash-cinematic-universe]

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!!  (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names ,  @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling​ 

1. 

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up. 

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew. 

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture. 

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love. 

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames. 

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in. 

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him. 

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though. 

“That would be nice,” He said softly. 

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24. 

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces. 

2. 

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway. 

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower. 

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights. 

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it. 

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around. 

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though. 

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head. 

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

3. 

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers. 

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive. 

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death. 

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be. 

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep. 

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.  

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

 “What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants. 

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask. 

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.” 

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape. 

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away. 

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--” 

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins. 

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid. 

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away. 

 “Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed. 

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that? 

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top. 

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside. 

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.” 

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made. 

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

4.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it. 

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun. 

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology. 

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet. 

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.  

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways. 

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it. 

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine. 

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back. 

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad. 

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet. 

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear. 

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do. 

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

5.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him. 

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face. 

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime. 

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

[mirage-coordinator]

year of the tiger babey!!!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

last reading update of 2021

... and fresh off hitting my goal of finishing 69 books :)

so, for the final time this year, what have I been reading?

Fireheart Tiger (Aliette de Bodard, 2021) - a neatly executed political fantasy novella that cuts straight to the (fire)heart of danger than arises when a princess mixes intimacy with imperialism.

Milk Fed (Rachel Broder, 2021) - listen, you've all already seen my screaming my praises of this book on my list of favorite books of the year. a story of hunger, appetite, repression, and desire tied up in developing attraction between two Jewish women, rendered in viscerally tender and unflinching detail. cannot recommend hard enough.

Velvet was the Night (Silva Moreno-Garcia, 2021) - I'm gonna be real, gang - this was probably my least favorite of the Moreno-Garcia novels I've read. one of our protagonists, the bored and somewhat mean-spirited secretary Maite, makes for a compelling POV, but ultimately the story of political paranoia in 1970s Mexico fell a little flat for me and I far prefer Moreno-Garcia's ventures into the romantic and fantastical.

Iron Widow (Xiran Jay Zhao, 2021) - another late entry onto my list of favorite books of the year, after Iron Widow beat the odds and managed to live up to the hype. I've seen a lot of things compared to Iron Widow, none of them inaccurate, but tonally I found it a lot like my old darling Six of Crows - a YA fantasy that dives headlong into a world built on magic and pivots hard into the darkest underbelly of that system, balancing moments of humor and levity with moments of startling viciousness from our protagonists and their enemies alike. I sincerely cannot wait for more.

A Psalm for the Wild-Built (Becky Chambers, 2021) - oh, Becky Chambers - can you write anything that doesn't feel like a warm mug of hot chocolate and a supportive hug? even if you can, please don't. this soft and soulful buddy road trip between a depressed monk and a curious robot was a kind little breath of fresh air, and while I'm still fondly remembering the Wayfarers series I'm eagerly anticipating the rest of this series.

Batman: The Black Mirror (Scott Snyder, illus. Jock and Francesco Francavilla, 2011) - a decade-old tale from Dick Grayson's tensure as Batman, following Dick and Commissioner Gordon as they grapple with some of the grisliest cases Gotham can throw at them. a pitch black detective story, it made for excellent company on a lengthy flight. I'm ending this year remembering that I like the episodic, overwrought nature of comics quite a lot, and I'm hoping to spend a lot more time with them in 2022.

Strixhaven: A Curriculum of Chaos (Wizard RPG Team, 2021) - that's right, babey, TTRPG sourcebooks absolutely count towards my numbers! as I said in my liveblog (which you can find here along with a link to read the book for free lmao) I don't often fuck with the official premade D&D modules, being a hardcore homebrewer who far prefers to write plots specifically calibrated for my players, but the fun of a full-fledged magic college was hard to pass up. it's a fun read with a lot of neat locations and NPCs, and while I find it a little stifling and concluded that it would probably need a lot of remodeling to mesh well with how my parties play, it's a neat module and I think first-time players would have a great time running it.

My Heart is a Chainsaw (Stephen Graham Jones, 2021) - Jones' novel The Only Good Indians was one of my most memorable reads of 2020, and I was really looking forward to reading another novel of his. I didn't like this book nearly as much as I hoped I would, and yet it still made me want to read of his work, which is a huge testament to his storytelling skill. there's a compelling core to My Heart is a Chainsaw, following a traumatized Blackfeet teen who's obsessed with slasher movies and absolutely certain that a real life slasher is about to hit her small community. it comes out a little dense and for me, feeling like it gets a bit too caught up in itself, but I'm compelled by the sympathy with which Jones writes his teenage heroines.

Jonny Appleseed (Joshua Whitehead, 2018) - a novel that starts with a young two-spirit sex worker trying to get home for his step-dad's funeral, spinning out into a quiet meditation on family, queerness, and the complicated pains and joys of going back to the place that made you when it can't quite love you back. it hit a little hard, seeing as I read it while staying with my mom/on the plane going back to my own extremely queer adult life.

I may very well still polish off another book or two, since I'm tying this from an airport and have hours to go before I'm done, but that's where we're going to call it for 2021. not to shamelessly self-promote, but starting tomorrow I'll be embarking on a quest to fill out my own 2022 reading bingo and if anyone else wants to download a sheet and hop onboard I would love to be tagged to see your progress and get some hot new book recs!