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jojaqualityheadcanons · 3 years

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SDV's 1.5 update contains content that plays into racist, colonialist, and imperialist myths and beliefs.

Disclaimer: I loved SDV (which is a given, considering I have an SDV sideblog lol?), and I'm not writing this post to get people to boycott the game or stop liking it or whatever. I just want people to understand why this content is harmful, how it might be affecting your biases and beliefs, and think of how they can engage with this media without exacerbating the harm that it does. I'm Filipino, and I don't speak for all POC or all brown people, but I felt deeply hurt and betrayed by the content update. Please keep that in mind before you interact with this post. Explanation under the cut because of 1.5 spoilers (obviously) and because this got long.

(I will block people who clown on this post. Keep your opinions to yourself unless you also have firsthand experience with the issues I describe.)

Background

I was already wary of the 1.5 content update because of how the previews featured ~tropical~ and ~exotic~ stuff, but I decided to give it a shot because maybe I was being too hasty with my judgment.

I wasn't. I made a new save to play with the 1.5 content update, and at first, I was having a great time! The new special orders made gameplay more exciting and varied! I could finally get rid of the nursery from my house without mods! The remixed junimo bundles made me change my usual game strategy. And then, I finally unlocked Ginger Island.

It seemed cool at first, but I had a sinking feeling growing in the pit of my stomach as I kept playing. It got to the point that I started nursing a stomach ache and lots of anger that took me days to shake off. I know SDV has never been a shining example of racial/ethnic diversity and sensitivity (I mean... there's a reason why mods like Diverse Stardew Valley and a bunch of other diversity mods exist lol). But while the lack of diversity in the pre-1.5 content is more of a missed opportunity, the 1.5 content is just... actively harmful and hurtful, imo. Here's a breakdown of the issues with the setting and the characters:

The Setting

Ginger Island, along with the Fern Islands in general, is a tropical island that is clearly based on islands in the Pacific. Its features include fertile soil and an abundance of natural, foragable resources. And for some unknown reason, it has no native human population.

Many islands in the world are uninhabited by humans, and there's always a good reason why. The island's environment may be too hostile, it could be too small to sustain human life, it could be sacred or otherwise culturally unacceptable to live there, or some disaster may have occurred to wipe out the local population or cause them to flee. Some uninhabited islands are nature reserves or privately owned. The point is that if an island is habitable, people are bound to call it home.

Writing Ginger Island as an uninhabited "tropical paradise" feels like a copout. It's as if the game is saying, "don't worry, you're not colonizing this land because no one really lives here! You're not stealing this land or anything because it's up for grabs and is just waiting for the right person to come along to develop it and turn it into a resort for other people who don't live here!" But that claim rings hollow when there are so many signs of civilization there, such as literal computers and ancient structures. And the canon reason for the existence of these things is that dwarves, non-human creatures, lived there once. I just think it's ridiculous and harmful that the game completely ignores and erases the existence of the people who lived and still live in the places that Ginger Island is based on and goes even further to use non-human creatures as stand-ins. I don’t think I have to explain why this isn’t good, considering that people of color have been compared to animals and treated like animals to dehumanize us and justify our oppression for ages.

To really hammer in my point about whitewashing and erasure, all the human labor on the island is done by a flock of parrots that you pay with golden walnuts (i. e., resources that you get for free from the island they live on). There's even an anthropomorphized bird who's a shopkeep! I get that creating a whole cast of human NPCs to fill a town would have been way too much work for a content update, but CA didn't need to use a bunch of animals as stand-ins for non-white human characters. There’s a troubling trend of creators prioritizing animal characters over characters of color, and CA plays right into it. He seriously chose to create more anthro characters instead of adding characters of color to the game in a setting that in real life has populations that are primarily made up of brown people. The game includes brown people's land and cultures, but it draws the line at brown people themselves.

The erasure of brown people and the portrayal of our lands as wild and untamed have been used to sanitize the narrative of colonialism for centuries. Pretending that our lands were wild tropical paradises that were ripe for the taking is pretending that colonizing forces didn't use violent, dehumanizing means to subjugate or wipe out countless peoples and cultures in order to make these lands available. Ginger Island's erasure of brown people just perpetuates this colonialist myth, and the context in which it does so disgusts me: the farmer, who already runs a successful farm that was inherited from their grandfather, goes off to a tropical island they have no personal connection to and uses its natural resources to expand their business further. They also open up a resort on the island for the enjoyment of other privileged people from their homeland, and going there is treated as a luxury. This is a classic colonizer narrative, and I cannot believe the game forces players to colonize an island in order to win.

The Characters

I'm honestly amazed that the amount of feedback about the lack of diversity in SDV didn't prompt CA to create characters of color. I'm amazed that he chose the setting he did and still didn't bother to create any characters of color. The fact that all three of the new human characters who live on this tropical island are white makes me go a little apeshit, to be honest! I hate all three of them for a variety of reasons, so I'll go over them one by one:

Birdie

My reasons for not liking Birdie are primarily related to misogyny (lady spent literal decades in isolation on this island moping over her dead husband?) and ageism (if you tell her to live her own life, she tells you that she's too old to???). Sooo they're not really related to the rest of my discussion here, and I won't get into them further. Moving on!

Professor Snail

White historians, archaeologists, and paleontologists have been stealing and plundering artifacts, relics, and fossils from colonized lands for centuries. These white scientists would send their “discoveries” back to their homelands with little regard for the people they stole from. I’ll acknowledge that Professor Snail doesn’t bring the bones and fossils off the island, so his character isn’t as awful as it could be, but he still canonically has this line:

I really just don’t understand why it was necessary to make this character white when making him a character of color could have easily prevented the uncomfortable real-world implications of a white man coming to a foreign land to plunder fossils without asking anybody for permission. If he he’d been created as someone who traced his ancestry to Ginger Island and wanted to study the island’s biological history, his character could have been so sympathetic and even admirable to me! But his character as it is just makes me think of this meme:

Here are some links for further reading about colonialism in paleontology and other social sciences: 1, 2, 3, 4.

Leo

I had a hard time figuring out how to write about this character because the way CA wrote him is arguably one of the most racist parts of SDV. So many aspects of his character left me speechless and appalled because I cannot believe people are still writing shit like this in the 2020s.

I’ll start off with his storyline: this white child gets stranded on an island and is raised by animals. When the farmer meets him, he speaks in broken English to show how “wild” he is:

As the farmer continues to interact with him, he begins to speak more “proper” English:

Wow... he’s becoming more “civilized” because of the farmer’s influence!

As his story progresses, he reveals that he’s lonely because he doesn’t fit in among the other birds. Eventually, he leaves behind his non-human family and assimilates into a primarily white, Western-coded society because that’s supposedly where he belongs.

This whole storyline is made possible by the problems with the setting that I mentioned earlier. Leo wouldn’t feel so lonely and out of place if there were people on the island. He wouldn’t be depicted as wild and animal-like if he had an adoptive family made up of humans instead of parrots. But because CA chose not to have native human characters on this island, Leo can only be around other people if he leaves his home and family behind. As a result, Leo’s story has very uncomfortable parallels with how colonizers have historically separated indigenous children from their families and cultures and forced them to assimilate into the dominant colonizer culture because they considered indigenous cultures to be savage and barbaric (1) (2).

Leo’s whole narrative unintentionally implies that a good life in a good community can only be had in civilized white Western societies. I’m honestly having trouble with further explaining why Leo’s whole character makes me feel so gross, so just read up on the White Man’s Burden, The Jungle Book and other works by Rudyard Kipling (1) (2) (3) (4) (5, PDF download link), and even Tarzan (1) (2).

Leo’s character is also used to further whitewash non-white cultures:

Poi is a Polynesian dish. Mango sticky rice, which is also a recipe that Leo teaches you in-game, is a Thai dish. In the letter, Leo says that the dish is from his home and enjoyed by his non-human family. Considering that he probably learned these recipes on Ginger Island, and that the only “people” who could have taught him this recipe are literal animals, including these recipes in the game in this way just reinforces the equation of brown people to animals. I’m not Polynesian or Thai, but I know that if CA had included a Filipino recipe in the game and not only had it taught to players by a white character, but also passed off as something from the white character’s culture, I’d be angry. I’ll repeat myself: The game features brown people's food and cultures, but it draws the line at brown people themselves.

I don’t think there’s any way to tweak or edit Leo’s character to fix the issues I described. No matter how we change things, he’s still an orphan raised by animals coded as indigenous people, and he assimilates into the dominant white Western culture. The only way to address these issues is to completely redo his character and even the setting of Ginger Island. Here are some options that I’ve thought of:

Leo is related to someone in the Valley and stays with them for part of the year.

Leo lives with his human family and community on Ginger Island.

Leo’s parents are specifically from Stardew Valley/Pelican Town and he wants to visit in order to reconnect with his heritage.

This list isn’t comprehensive, but it does show that there are so many alternatives to having yet another Mowgli story in Stardew Valley.

Conclusion

I don’t think that CA had bad intentions when he made this content, but the fact is that he did create this content. I’m not calling him a bad person. However, he does have a lot of racist, imperialist, and colonialist biases that he has yet to unlearn. Considering the setting and subject matter of the new 1.5 content, he really should have hired some sensitivity readers to avoid creating harmful content. The man’s sold over ten million copies of his game, and he certainly has the resources to put together a sensitivity team.

I can’t look at Stardew Valley the same way I did before 1.5, but I’m not going to condemn the game as a whole. I might play the game again someday, but I absolutely won’t be going back to Ginger Island. If you’ve enjoyed the Ginger Island content, then good for you! Please just keep all that I’ve written here in mind and accept that that content hurts some people like me.

If you’re a content creator, I urge you to get sensitivity readers if you’re featuring cultures that you’re not a part of to avoid making the same mistakes that I’ve discussed here. Creating from a place of understanding and respect can only make your work better and more accessible to a wider audience, especially to the people whose culture you’re borrowing.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv leo #sdv birdie #sdv professor snail #racism cw #imperialism #colonialism #blabbering #ids for images are in alt text btw!

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maaaddiexo · 3 years

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Birthday Encounters | Legolas Greenleaf

Mainlist | Serieslist

Pairing: Legolas Greenleaf x fem!reader

“Aragorn!”

Strong arms wrapped around her waist as her friend of countless years lifted her and spun her in circles.

“Y/N! It has been far too long.” The King placed Y/N back on her feet in his home.

Y/N nodded. “I agree. Thank you for the invitation.”

Aragorn gave Y/N a kind smile and gestured for them to walk. “Of course. How have you been?”

Y/N smiled. “Good. I have been helping the Ents repair their land since Saruman’s destruction of Fangorn Forest. Did you get my wedding present? I heard Arwen enjoyed jewelry-making in her spare time.”

Aragorn smiled. “Yes, she loves it.” He was upset Y/N could not make their wedding and considered postponing it just so that she could attend. But being so ill, they had no idea when she would be well enough to attend. “What else have you been doing?”

Y/N shook her head. “Traveling. Relaxing. You know that fight took more out of me than I ever got back.”

Aragorn nodded. “Somehow, I always forget you fought in the Battle of the Five Armies all those years ago. Perhaps because you never speak of it.”

Y/N smiled sadly. “Well, there’s nothing good to speak of. Perhaps if there was, I would talk more of it.”

Aragorn frowned. “Sorry. I did not mean to upset you.”

Y/N looked over the balcony they had stopped at, seeing Arwen talking to two elves she did not recognize. Not that she knew many to begin with. “It’s alright.”

“Come, Lady Y/N. I am sure you’ve missed Arwen.”

As they descended the stairs, Y/N said, “I’m not a Lady. You know that.”

“You are in my eyes. But don’t let Arwen hear that.”

Y/N laughed as they reached the bottom of the stairs, catching the attention of Aragorn’s wife, Arwen.

“Y/N!” The elf exclaimed happily, reaching forward to grab her arms. The woman had become used to the customs of men and women while married to Aragorn and moved to hug Y/N, a custom most elves did not engage in. As Arwen had put it years ago, elves did not like to touch people they were not close to.

“Arwen! I have missed you, my friend.”

Arwen, who looked like she had not aged a day, smiled in agreement. “The last time I saw you-”

“I looked horrible,” Y/N laughed. “Hopefully, I look much better now.”

Arwen smiled. “Much better.”

“Arwen? Are you not going to introduce us to your friend?” The two elves waited expectantly behind the dark-haired elf. Both were fair-skinned with braided silver hair. The one who spoken was a young girl, though it was hard to tell just how old she was.

Arwen smiled. “This is Y/N. She and Aragorn met when Sauron tried to regain power. She has been a friend ever since.”

The two elves gave short bows. “And this is Selina and Legolas. Sindar elves.”

Mirkwood elves, Y/N realized. And the name Legolas rang a bell. “You are the son of Thranduil.”

Legolas nodded but displayed a slightly sour face. “And Seline is my guard. She goes wherever I go and has become quite a close companion to Arwen and Aragorn.”

Y/N smiled at Seline, who did not talk much. Both were ethereal in their elven beauty, practically glowing. Y/N felt ugly in their presence – but that was what most non-elves felt. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“I assume Aragorn’s birthday brings you here as well?”

Y/N nodded. “Considering I missed their wedding, it was the least I could do.”

Aragorn sighed. “For the last time, we do not blame you. You made great sacrifices on the Lonely Mountain. It is not your fault you get sick often.”

Y/N looked away in shame.

“Oh, leave her be, Aragorn. You know how stubborn she can be. More stubborn than that red-bearded friend of yours, Gimli.”

“Seline!” A small girl appeared from the west hall, reaching the she-elf’s waist. “You’re back!”

The elf smiled and bent down, whispering something in the little girl’s ear before being towed down the hall to an unknown location. The little girl barely dodged the incoming servant, dressed in purple and gold thread.

“My Lord and Lady, the advisors need to speak with you. Urgently.”

Aragorn sighed and reached for his love. “We will be right there. Y/N? Do you mind showing Legolas around? He has not visited since the attack.”

Y/N chanced a glance at the elven prince before nodding. “Of course. Does that include the wine cellar?”

Aragorn playfully flicked his friend’s nose. “You stay out of there. You drink like a dwarf.”

“I take that as a compliment!” Y/N yelled as the duo followed after the servant. Once they were out of sight and earshot, she turned to Legolas. “Shall we start at the wine cellar?”

•••

“And that’s it,” Y/N said, stopping where they had started. She hid her pain well, casually leaning against a stone pillar to relieve some of the pressure in her lungs.

“They have expanded since I was last here,” Legolas mused, taking in the almost-elvish architecture. Then again, Aragorn had spent a lot of his live in Rivendell. Legolas looked back at Y/N, who seemed to have trouble breathing. Her chest expanded roughly, stuttering as her eyes watered. “Are you alright, My Lady?”

Y/N forced a laugh. “Why does everyone call me that? I’m not a Lady.”

“You look like one.” Legolas looked an elf caught off guard, which was a rare thing to behold. His fair cheeks flushed slightly and he looked away momentarily before speaking again, this time much faster. “You seem to have trouble breathing.”

Y/N waved him off. “It’s nothing, really. It’ll pass soon enough.”

“What is ‘it’?”

Y/N sighed. “A long time ago, I used to live in Lake-town. I lived there when Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins woke the dragon, Smaug, and he burned my home. The smoke damaged my lungs. I have struggled to breathe since but exercise makes it worse. I don’t expect an elf like you to understand. I know your kind never tires.”

Legolas squinted at Y/N. Her ears were round and her skin was not flawless but…there was something about her. The way she carried herself. “You have elven blood in you.”

Y/N was surprised. Most people didn’t notice the drop of elf in her. “Yes. One of ancestors was elvish. Though, I inherited nothing but prolonged aging and the ability to jump.”

Legolas felt himself smile at the news. There were few of his kin left in Middle-Earth. And halfling or not, she counted.

“Do you know any elvish?”

Y/N shook her head, still trying to catch her breath and stay the pain deep in her lungs. “No. Aragorn tried to teach me but it just doesn’t sound-” Y/N couldn’t finish her sentence, interrupted by a coughing fit. She bent over the railing, coughing and trying to catch her breath. Something touched her back – Legolas, she realized. She waved him off. “Just give me a moment. This damned corset makes matters so much worse.”

“Corset?”

Y/N nodded and something was brought to her lips. Legolas’ waterjug. She drank eagerly until the rough burn in her throat was soothed. “Thank you. And, yes. My mother insisted I wear a corset because it is what women do these days.” Y/N harrumphed at that and Legolas laughed.

“Is your mother here?”

“No, she stayed with my father back home to work on our farm.”

“Then why not loosen it? Or lose it entirely?”

“You make it sound like disobeying a parent’s order is easy.”

“I know for a fact that it isn’t,” Legolas said firmly. “But doing what you desire is freeing. Even if it means just losing a corset.”

“Legolas! Y/N!” Aragorn and Arwen appeared at the end of the hallway before Y/N could say anything. “Dinner is in an hour.”

Y/N smiled and Arwen moved forward. “Let’s get you changed, my friend.”

Y/N let herself be dragged off to her friend’s chambers where Arwen searched through the wardrobe, stopping on a pale blue dress with an attached cape and gold ringlets at the shoulders.

“Perfect.”

Arwen braided Y/N’s hair in a signature elvish braid, pulling it back to reveal her perfectly round ears. “I sense Aragorn and I interrupted something between you and Legolas back in the main entryway.”

Y/N shook her head softly. “He just said something, is all.”

“You’ve got the furrow in your brow you always get when you think too hard. Did his words bother you? He is from Mirkwood. They don’t have the best manners.”

“No, not at all,” Y/N assured as they moved to the door. It was almost time for the birthday feast to begin. “He just said something…eye-opening.”

“An elf? Saying something wise? How odd.”

Y/N laughed as they approached the garden. Legolas, Seline, Aragorn, and red-bearded dwarf were waiting for them. The human and two elves had changed, and Aragorn now wore his signature crown. He looked like a king. Arwen left Y/N’s side to join her husband’s.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just your wife finally grasping human humour. She’s become quite good at it.”

Aragorn rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me. Y/N, this is Gimli. I’ve told you about him.”

Y/N curtsied. “I have heard plenty about you. Pleasure to finally meet you.”

Gimli touched his heart like an elf would. “The pleasure is all mine, Milady.”

“Why do people keep saying that?”

Gimli stuttered. He was expecting a thank you, not an argument. “W-well…you look like a princess.”

Y/N glanced at Legolas from the corner of her eye in amusement. He was already staring at her. “People keep saying that too.”

Aragorn chuckled and the two humans shared a look. The other four looked between the two humans as their eyebrows furrowed and raised and, finally, Y/N stuck out her tongue childishly.

“Something is happening that I do not understand,” Gimli finally said.

Legolas, who did not take his eyes off the two, said, “Me neither.”

“Shall we go in?” Aragorn said. “The little ones are already inside.”

“You mean the Hobbits you always talk about in your letters? Y/N asked eagerly.

Aragorn chuckled. “Yes. I will introduce you.”

“May I escort you to our table’ Milady?”

Y/N smiled at Gimli and nodded, slipping her hand around his upper bicep. Legolas and Seline followed behind them. The vines parted to reveal a garden from a fairytale. People were chatting loudly and small children ran around their parents’ feet. Ahead, four small men were already seated at the head table and turned to see them arrive.

“Legolas! Gimli!”

Y/N moved away so that the six could rejoice, looking for her place at the table. Her name was written in beautiful Elven cursive and knew Arwen had written it. Her name was between Legolas’ and Aragorn’s and she felt comfort in that. Though she wasn’t sure why Legolas’ proximity had an effect on her. Y/N moved to walk around the garden, examining all the details that had been considered for Aragorn’s ninetieth birthday.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Y/N turned to see Legolas had approached her. She was standing by the wall of well-wishes, where guests wrote notes for the birthday boy.

“Yes. Arwen did a wonderful job of combining both human and Elvish customs. I’m sure Aragorn will be quite overjoyed when they finally come in.”

“May I escort you back to our table?”

Y/N stared at Legolas’ outreached arm, waiting for her take it as she took Gimli’s. “I was under the impression that Elves did not touch people outside their loved ones?”

“You are correct,” Legolas smiled humbly. “But humans do. Besides, I spent plenty of time with the Hobbits, Gimli, and Aragorn while fighting Sauron. I do not stick as strictly to Elven customs as I once did.”

Y/N smiled. “In that case,” she wrapped her arm around Legolas’ bicep. “I would love to be escorted. Perhaps…we could dance later too?”

“Mirkwood elves don’t really dance,” Legolas admitted. “But a few years back Gimli introduced me to drinking games. I’m quite good at those.”

Y/N laughed. “I’ll take your word for it and pass on that offer. I’ve heard elves cheat at them. But we could sit and talk.” They were at the table now. “Arwen and Aragorn have told me all about Rivendell but I know very little of Mirkwood.”

Legolas bowed. “You have an accord.”

The night was filled with laughter, spilt ale, and dancing. Pippin and Merry had been up on a random table for the past thirty minutes, singing as their mugs of ale were continuously filled.

Nyx’s stomach hurt from laughing so long and hard and was grateful her dress didn’t have a corset. Her lungs began to ache and she reached for a goblet of water in hopes of staying the oncoming coughing fit.

“You should try marshmallow root,” said Legolas suddenly. He and Y/N were the only two at the table, retelling stories of their past and laughing at their friends. “It will not heal your lungs, but it will soothe your throat.”

“Does nothing get past your eyes?”

“Well,” Legolas smiled. “Elves do have excellent eyesight.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I see you’re catching on to human humour as well. Do you know any jokes of ours?”

Legolas smiled. “Gimli once told me one. Are you ready? Okay. What hangs at a man’s thigh and wants to poke the hole it’s poked before? And I’ll give you a hint. It is not what you think it is.”

Y/N squinted. “It’s a dwarf joke? The answer must be inappropriate somehow.”

“I can assure you it is not.”

“What is it then?”

“A key.”

Y/N laughed, though she found it be less funny and more of a riddle. She did not want to hurt Legolas’ feelings.

“Now tell me something about your culture. Humans never cease to amaze me.”

“What do you want to know?”

“You commented on how elves treat loved ones. I know Aragorn is human but he was raised in Rivendell. What are your customs?”

“My father always kisses my mother on the cheek. And whenever either of them leaves the house, they tell the other they love them. And my mother often falls asleep on my father in sitting room when he reads.”

“Was he boring?”

“What?”

“She fell asleep on him when he read. Was he boring?”

Y/N laughed. “No, not at all. He was very good at telling stories, actually. And my mother always says that falling asleep on his shoulder is when she gets the best sleep. Because she’s close to him.”

“How is that comfortable? How does that even work?” Legolas laughed. Y/N could see he was trying to imagine it in his head.

“Like this.” Carefully, so as not to cross too many of Legolas’ boundaries, she moved closer to Legolas and slouched in her seat, gently resting her head on his shoulder. “And my father would read chapter after chapter. Tell story after story. And my mother would fall asleep on his shoulder and I would fall asleep in front of the fireplace.”

Legolas smiled, watching his friends dance together as a beautiful girl rested on his shoulder. “I understand now. This is nice.”

“So nice I may not move,” Y/N joked.

Legolas touched Y/N’s hand beneath the round table. “So don’t.”

#romance #love #legolas #legolas imagine #legolas greenleaf #legolas greenleaf imagine #lotr #lotr imagine #lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine #orlando bloom #orlando #bloom #orlando bloom imagine

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addictedtomanga · 4 years

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Shoujo manga recommendations - living together/neighbors

1. Konyakusei

Sachi Hanaoka has just lost her parents to a traffic accident and her fear of living alone becomes reality. To add on to her troubles, Kouichi Saonji, the young landlord of her apartment, approaches her and requests that she prepare to vacate since she is now be unable to pay rent. Alternatively, Kouichi proposes a solution: he and Sachi will get married and she will act as his caretaker. Not only will her expenses be covered, but it would also serve as a method to quell his family's nagging for him to find a wife. Despite the lack of genuine feelings between them, Sachi finds herself drawn to Kouichi and accepts his offer. But will the newly wed couple be able to fall in love, or will they remain strangers forever?

2. Sugar Family

Since Yuuka's mother died at an early age, Yuuka turned out to be the one taking care of her child-like father. Right before high school started, Yuuka's dad announced his remarriage with Satou Masami. Masami-san turned out to be a reliable, responsible person, so Yuuka finally thought she's off the hook. That is, until she finds out about her new older brother...

3. Kyou mo Uchi de Machi Awase

After a fire, a middle-aged man meets a homeless single mother and her son at the convenience store. He is instantly reminded of someone he used to know over a decade ago. Could it be...?

4. Kyoudai Gokko

Growing up, Rio Takara has always wanted siblings. So when her parents decide to move overseas without her and tells her she will be living with two people around her age, she's cautiously optimistic. But they turn out to be brothers who fight like cats and dogs. Is this what having siblings is like?

5. Kamiki Kyoudai Okotowari

Iroha was raised by her single mother, but when her mother remarries, they move in with her step-father and his 3 sons. To Iroha, this will be the first time she's living with men. What will happen to Iroha's new life!?

6. Monokuro Shounen Shoujo

Kureha Mimachi, a 15-year-old girl, has just transferred into Shiritsu Kenhono High School. However, there is something weird about this school, it is actually a school where the Princes and Princesses of the beast-kind go to...?! Even though Kureha is human, she is there as a way to help the students their lives peacefully with humans and has the role as the "rabbit". Will she be able survive without being eaten by the students...?!

7. Mademoiselle Butterfly

Our heroine is a girl who lives as a geisha in Japan. She has a male childhood friend who's always been kind to her and is her favorite. He's a painter, only he paints on human body parts, and she loves it when he paints beautiful butterflies on her arms. She goes to visit him one day and finds a naked woman lying in his room. Immediately after, she gets a customer who's rich and very interested in her. The thought of being away from her friend pains her, but is everything really too late?

8. Mayonaka Lolita

After she took some medicines, Michiryuu became suddenly a little girl. People used to say that she was really perfect. That's why she wants to came back to normal quickly. But the only condition if she wants that happen is to find "a personn she'll love". But that's completely impossible for her! So what will happen to Michiryuu...?

9. Mayonaka ni Kiss

Natori Nono is a very tough school-girl, she lives with her widowed mother Ayame and her younger brother Takumi in a very small apartment, where she does all the chores. Her boyfriend wants money from her, because he's really poor, too. But one day, Nono discovers that her mother remarried! She married Ichijou Hayato, the owner of the 'Ichijou Group'. Now, Nono lives there (in unaccustomed riches) with her mother, her brother, her stepfather AND her new stepbrother: Ichijou Kasuomi (his father calls him Omi-kun)!!! At first, Nono thinks Kasuomi is not nice. But what will happen next?

10. Harem Lodge

Midori lost her mother when she was young and now her father's gone too. But her dad left her with a surprise: a fiancé named Tetsuya. So now, Midori has to live in a good-looking men only apartment (Harem Lodge), which is actually filled with weirdos. What is going to happen to her? Well we just have to wait and see...

11. Hyakujuu no ou ni Tsugu!

This is the liberated area where you listen to girls will, a girls high school! in this class, there's a king. Me, Yuka! My friends are counting on me and boys are afraid of me! But that kind of paradise will suddenly break up by a thirty-year old man!! dates will take place in golf areas and kisses will have the taste of smoke...

12. Last Notes

Haru and Aki are the masters of the branch store - an old-looking and very unusual shop. It sells only one thing: a special kind of incense that, when burned, allows the user to see and speak with the spirit of the dead person that appears in the smoke. Every customer has a different reason for calling up the dead, and how they use this unusual opportunity is up to them...

13. Hapira Hajimaru

Asai Sachi's luck has always been considered dreadful. After becoming the class president, she meets Kurono Hyougo, a guy with a frightful face who bears various gruesome rumours behind his back. Hyougo had been living alone in an apartment; but when Sachi mistakenly reveals that Hyougo is a minor, he had to be kicked out. Fortunately, Sachi's father is a realtor, and suggested to have Hyougo live in their unused detached house. Would Sachi's bad luck turn upside down upon meeting Hyougo?

14. Hana o Meshimase

After Shion's mother passed away, she was left with her father who loves to gamble and evade his responsibilities as a father. Due to that continuous pattern, Shion moves in to live as a live-in employee with 25-years-old florist Shun Mamyuuda. As she begins to learn the value of flowers and life, will she also find her place in love?

15. Good Morning Call

Nao Yoshikawa stays behind to live by herself when her parents leave to inherit her grandpa's farm in the country. On the day she moves into her new apartment she soon discovers that it was rented also to Hisashi Uehara—a cute, super-cool and popular guy from her school. Not only did their housing agency unexpectedly close down, the landlord of the apartment tells them that they had to pay more for their apartment then they had expected. With both no money and no home to return to, Nao and Hisashi decide to live together as flatmates.

16. Nanako Robin

Yoshino Nako has a saying. "If I'm happy, I can do anything!" In her sister's place, Nako-chan steals the groom of an arranged (political) marriage and helps them elope. But when the Hayami group starts failing, she must pay the consequence by housing the delinquent brother...

17. Momo Raba

Chieri (Cherry) was living an ordinary life, until her sister Ichigo (Strawberry) suddenly left her child Momo (Peach) on Chieri's doorstep. Momo is an infant; how is Chieri supposed to take care of a baby while still in high school!? To make matters even more frustrating, two guys are fighting for Chieri's love...!

18. Men’s Life

Mio's life is changed in a big way due to an encounter with Rin, an upperclassman who is one-year-older, and...!?

19. Tonari wa Nani o Kuu Hito zo

Inaba Suzuna is trying her best to make a campus debut and to have many friends in Tokyo. Until she realized that she miserably fails at living alone. Fortunately, her neighbor, Seto, comes and saves her from dying of starvation. Bright campus life is still far away for Suzuna, but at least, she has a very dependable neighbor!

20. Yumemiru Taiyou

While loitering in the park, Shimana Kameko, who intended to run away from home and skip school, meets a suspicious man in a kimono. This man, who had been locked out of his house, offers Shimana a place to stay. However, he requests she fulfill three conditions in exchange for her tenancy!?

21. Taiyou no Ie

After her mother abandoned her and her father remarried, high schooler Mao Motomiya is left feeling like she doesn't have a place where she belongs. One night, her childhood friend Hiro Nakamura finds her in a shrine eating cheap convenience store food and offers to take her to a restaurant. Their subsequent heart to heart leads to Hiro suggesting that Mao move in with him. To Hiro who has lived apart from his younger siblings all these years after their parents passed away, bringing his family back together in the once-lively Nakamura home begins with the first step of giving Mao a loving place to belong. When Mao reluctantly accepts his invitation, she is surprised at how easy it is to settle in with her longtime friend. Now she must deal not only with mending her relationship with her father and helping the oldest Nakamura brother attain his goal, but also her growing feelings for Hiro.

22. Tsubaki-chou Lonely Planet

Oono Fumi is a poor second year high school student. Because of her father's debts, she's kicked out of her own home and has to rely on her own connections to survive. Thus begins her life as a live-in housekeeper for a reclusive writer...

23. Faster than a kiss

Losing their parents, Fumino and her brother hop from one relative to another. Getting tired of all those movings, she finally decides to quit school and work to support her brother on her own. As they sat on a park bench, her teacher appears in front of her and agrees to her demanding of marrying and supporting both her and her brother!! Is he serious or just playing around...!?

24. Kiss/Hug

Ryuu, a super-business-like transfer student from England with black hair and blue eyes just arrived! During the night of the Tanabata festival, Ryuu and Yukino became attracted to each other at first sight. He then declares, "You will be mine!" This brought confusion to Yukino, who has zero experience in love. But could she actually be falling in love?

25. Kanna to Decchi

Our heroine Kanna is the daughter of the famous builder in town. One day a boy with a hammer appears to train under Kanna's father?! The heart pounding love story of a handsome apprentice carpenter.

26. Sabaku no Harem

Mishe a strong willed girl raised from poverty has caught Prince Kallum's attention. Attention as in, "you will become one of my concubines," thus begins Mishe's adventures into Prince Kallum's world.

36 notes · View notes

apothecaryave · 3 years

Text

Familial Pains

Going home was never the pleasant experience poetry dictated it should be, not for Aveline. But she had run clean out of excuses, each letter she’d received somehow containing more guilt than the next. It was to the point where simply seeing the familiar parchment of her mother’s stationary made her stomach drop. The longer she tried to put off opening it, the larger it grew in her head, taking over the desk and all other correspondences until she at last slit it open with the resigned panic of war prisoner set to meet her execution at last.

We are well, her mother assured her, save for the pain of your absence. Aveline always rolled her eyes at the sentiment, convinced the money she sent on the regular was more than enough to ease any such sorrows.

She’d never been close with her mother or her brothers, and her biological father was not a man she entertained any notion of reconciliation with. It didn’t matter that the injury he’d caused her adoptive father had been an accident, or that he had shown her paternal affection despite the infidelity her birth was proof of. All she had to do was recall every lost, confused, then guilty expression of her adoptive father whenever he couldn’t recall where he was or why he happened to be holding a sack of coin in hand.

That innocent panic of his before she explained that they were headed to the show he’d been looking forward to, and that what he was holding was the simple payment given to him after dropping off a promised shipment of medicine on their way — no apology could fix that. No number of ‘sorry’s and ‘I didn’t mean to’s would make it any less difficult to explain to her real father, over and over again, what was happening and why it was happening when all she wanted was to spend a simple, happy evening visiting the man who never should have loved her.

But it could never be so simple as avoiding the faces and voices that brought all her old feelings up from under her skin. Now her bothers had married; there were nieces and nephews to spoil, mild ailments of aging to remind her of her mother’s mortality, and a compounding sense of familial responsibility she had never escaped.

Aveline was not a son: she would never inherit the farm, nor had the land been of any real consequence to her livelihood once she had left the village. But she was still the eldest, and by far the most financially successful, and despite the emasculation, her father and brothers had benefitted greatly from her contributions over the years. The farm, as she was often told, was thriving and expanding thanks to the newly hired hands, tools, plants, and all other investments that had brought the once humble landscape into extensive orchards capable of sustaining the quickly growing line of Durands.

She couldn’t deny that a part of her still, despite all reason, was planted firmly in that farm. As the carriage rolled down the road, she was surprised by how little had changed over the years. The overgrown streams were still overgrown, long grass grasping at the energetic splash of water that escaped with crisp, melodious sound. It suddenly felt not so long ago that she explored those slippery rocks barefoot, braving the wicked chill as she searched for colorful pebbles to collect.

It was her home itself that had changed the most. The carriage came to a halt at a place she never would have recognized had it not been for the orchards surrounding it. Gone was the humble cabin — a cozy one room affair with a loft where the whole family had slept. In its place was the sort of town house she might have expected within Gridania, more than three times the original’s size replete with a second story and three chimneys.

“Time has been good to us all.” Aveline murmured to herself as she stepped out of the carriage, one hand occupied with a large bag. She gave the coach a handsome tip, but scarcely managed to turn around before not a few, but six children came bounding out of the front door.

The eldest (or so she assumed, the girl being the tallest among the gaggle) stopped short a few feet of embracing her, instead throwing her arms up excitedly in a bright, “Auntie Aveline!” The other children joined her in a semicircle with the same chorus, and Aveline was suddenly helpless with awkwardness. Being the eldest of her siblings, unmarried, and utterly foreign in the place that was once her home, even ‘hello’ felt strange on her lips. Did she call these charming strangers darlings?

“Aveline!” Ah, that sharp, high voice meant to be softened with affection could belong only to her mother. Though far from elderly, her mother’s face had new wrinkles, and though she hastened without delay toward her daughter, Aveline could tell that her knee was still giving her trouble.

“Mother.” Aveline tightened in her mother’s embrace, suddenly and guiltily wishing that she’d been stolen up by her niece’s arms instead. Those young eyes were so bright and innocent in their childish delight — no expectation, no disappointment, just wonderment at the mysterious woman their grandmother had undoubtedly spoken of.

Her mother, on the other hand, noticed this off-putting tension immediately, and disapproval muddied her gaze as she stood back with her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “Aveline, what sort of greeting is that after all this time? Your father and I have been aching to see you!”

Aveline grit her teeth. Of all the words she might have said, those were among the worst. That she should feel any familial guilt over that man was a notion capable of making her turn her back there and then to run after the carriage that was already trotting off.

But Aveline had been raised to be a polite girl, and the reservedness she saved for the most difficult of her apothecary clients was in full force. “I’m sorry, Mother — it was such a long trip. But I’m delighted to see all my nephews and nieces in such good health. As ever, you look lovely in blue.”

Her mother glowed at the compliment and gave her shoulders a squeeze before leading her inside along with the gaggle of children. Everything afterward was a blur of activity. There wasn’t even time to feel further awkwardness, for she was reintroduced to her brothers’ wives, their children, and the veritable waterfall of things that had changed about the Durand farm. Their well-to-do lifestyle was obvious in every detail, from the crisp cusp and polished buttons of her brothers’ shirts to the small but comfortable sitting room near the front of the house. Here was a proper growing estate where the Durand name might take root and thrive for generations.

And she had no place in it.

Not that she was unwelcome, of course. Her nieces and nephews gushed over the presents she had brought them, pastries from her shoppe with dolls and toys thrown into the mix for good measure. Young children were easy to buy gifts for, and their pure adoration for so simple a gesture made Aveline happy in a way she’d not felt in a very long time.

She found, too, that her sisters-in-law were easy women to get along with, mild and kind-spirited and far more than her brothers deserved — a point they smirked at when they saw her sisterly admonition cast over her shoulder. Though her brothers still couldn’t pass on their old habits of teasing her, the barbs had diminished greatly with age. She didn’t know them as well as she might have liked to, she realized, and a sudden emptiness threatened to claim a sliver of her heart. How much had she missed, and was all her time spent away as worthwhile as she liked to believe?

It took only the entrance of her father to remind her that it had not been so. The room felt stifling the moment he entered. He was a tall man, a proper elezen with the lean musculature and pointed ears to prove it. He all but loomed over the gathering of hyurs, entirely out of place with his elegantly angled features. Even his poise was different and she hated it, that natural grace not at all in line with a family of humble farmers.

How was it, after so many years, that her rage could bubble so hotly to the surface? There was no provocation in his expression, just a deep sorrow and gentle resignation in the face of her rejection. He asked nothing from her, no affection and no acknowledgment, greeting her gently and assuring her that she was welcome.

And that just made her angrier. She wanted desperately to hate him as the villain he was, to charge him as a negligent, cruel, awful man, but it was plain his place was firmly rooted in the home. Her brothers admired him, her mother unrepentantly loved him, and his direction had undeniably been key in turning the poor fortune of the Durand family around. Aveline had merely speeded along the careful seeds he had sown, and one look at the gorgeous orchards peeking from the windows assured her of this.

Thus, all the awkwardness returned once the children had settled and she was left in the company of adults and exceptionally delicious apricot wine. As the sun set, casting a warm glow about the sitting room, conversation slowed, turned serious, and she was faced with the questions she’d feared the most.

“Are you never going to settle down, Aveline? You always go on about your bistro and that apothecary of yours, but never your personal life. I hate to imagine you lonely.” Her mother’s face was all concern, though the last of her words pierced Aveline’s pride with the subtlety of a lightning bolt.

Aveline’s hand tightened around the curve of her wine glass, but she let the sensation go almost immediately. Had she been a male, she mused, a lifestyle of keeping lovers in lieu of marrying would have made her an eclectic, but not unredeemable rake. As a woman, however, she might as well have been a spinster. An artist or businesswoman could still have merit in the eyes of her family, of course, but to lack a man with a ring on his finger was lacking all the same.

“I’m many things, but not lonely. I’ve lovers who bring great enrichment to my life and that is all I desire.” Aveline struggled to reign in her smile as her mother gasped (and frankly, the rest of the room’s company as well), the latter caught completely off guard by her daughter’s unmistakably proud admission.

“Such men can’t provide you with a family, my dear. Do you not want a family?” Of course her mother pressed the issue, her shameless hypocrisy making Aveline’s ears hot. That wretched man sitting beside her mother, her birth father by all technical terms, had sired her as a bastard child. The father of her brothers, the man her mother had married, was the selfsame person who had been injured and willing to die some place quiet after coming to the ridiculous conclusion that the shameless elezen in front of her could provide for the family better than he ever could.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to ruin her mother’s new dress and shatter her wine glass at the woman’s feet. Her whole body trembled with fury, and she very nearly forgot the question entirely. It took every onze of willpower in her body to restrain herself, and the fury slowly, painfully cooled into ice. Silence filled the room while she did nothing but sip from her glass.

“Mother…” Oliver, the youngest of her two brothers, had enough sense to intervene, but not the words to do so effectively. Did he share the same sentiment, even in the smallest way? The full intensity of Aveline’s gaze fell on him like daggers. The way he recoiled, stunned and penitent, made her sick with the realization that he simply wished to avoid conflict. How prudent of him, wanting to keep the peace at the price of bottling all her ugly feelings away.

But it was selfish, to step back into their lives and cause a scene. Here was blissful happiness, a simple life managing orchards and making fruit products. All the old wounds had been forgiven and healed over years ago. They didn’t need an emotional knife to start the bleeding again.

Aveline ignored the throbbing in her head as her mind wrested full control of her emotions, twisting them so they could fit back into the depths of her chest. Her voice wouldn’t shake, but it remained empty when she spoke. “It’s quite fine, Oliver. What I want from my lovers isn’t a traditional thing. On all accounts, they lead lives far more exciting than I do. To tie them down in any regard, be it to my particular lifestyle or as my only devoted partner, would bring no one happiness.”

“Oh, Aveline, you’ve always been so unselfish. But you seem so unhappy, and I—”

Aveline cut her mother off with a not-quite-subtle thud of her hand against a nearby end table as she set her glass down. She stood quickly, brushing off her skirt with one quick, angry flourish. “The orchards have been calling to me since I first laid eyes on them. Please do excuse me while I catch some fresh air.”

Who in the seven hells was her mother to decide whether or not she was happy? A woman didn’t bask in adultery and presume her bastard child’s life would be a happy one. If anything, Aveline decided, she had learned how be happy despite her mother’s infuriating weakness. She took these feelings out on a pebble as she kicked her way along one of the orchard’s paths, finding petty satisfaction in its helpless skitter before her fury.

At length, she came across a stream marking the end of the orchard. The sun had set some time ago, leaving the world washed in pale moonlight. Beyond the water lay the forest proper, deep and dark with the tall shade of trees obscuring everything. She was utterly alone.

Something inside her snapped at last. “You half-witted, pompous strumpet! How dare you! How dare you pass judgment on my life! You weak, disdainful, miserable cretin, basking in some bastard’s love while father suffers! You have… no right…”

Her whole body trembled as she shouted into the trees, the world silently absorbing her furious tumble of insults. It still wasn’t enough. Forgetting all decorum, she bent over, snatching up pebbles and twigs to toss into the stream. They made a wonderful cacophony of splashes, but more importantly, helped to temper her outburst through simple exhaustion. A few of the flatter stones even managed to skip a few times across the water before disappearing forever.

“If I’d been your son, you’d be celebrating my success!” Splunk! “But you abandoned father! You abandoned me!” Sploosh! “What sort of mother speaks of marriage when she has no dowry set aside? You selfish, ungrateful—” Aveline had escalated to the biggest rock she could lift without hurting herself, slinging it into the water with the force of both arms. It made a magnificent splash high enough to reach her, the cold water splattering over her dress like a furious downpour of rain.

Her eyes were wild and wide as she glared down at the water. Breathless and bent over her knees, all she felt was an empty sense of satisfaction for having let the words out. How long had they bubbled under her every smile? She hated every reminder of such feelings, all of them irrevocably leading back to her mother. Weak. How could a woman be so weak?

And why did she still feel so angry over it? Any rational person would tell her she was overreacting — the rational voice in her head said as much. She was deep into her twenties and far beyond blaming any insecurities on her parents. The past just insisted on being so very present, her mother’s incessant happiness, her happy family and idyllic life hammering deeper every miserable memory she had of her father.

Even as a child, scarcely a decade old, she’d sensed death in her adoptive father’s intention when he left home. There had been a panic in her she hadn’t understood, an urgency that warned her she might never see him again. No matter how old she grew, she’d never forget his gaunt face, defeated and hopeless as he sat listlessly beside the road.

“Go back home, Darling,” He’d told her. And she’d refused, clinging to his sleeve as she sat next to him. He was too numb to consider her feelings, and found himself rambling on about his every insecurity. His wife didn’t love him — she was better off with a man who could make her happy. He’d mucked up his first ever attempt at running a farm, threatening starvation on his own kin — they were better off with a competent man who could keep them fed. He no longer had a reliable mind, the head injury impairing much of his ability to remember the most basic things throughout the day — he was better off without himself.

Every day since, she had battled his each and every defeat. Before he gave up his merchant business peddling goods across the realm, he had been a competent and optimistic man. So she told him to be a merchant again, and like an old man remembering how to skip, he’d found some friends, some debts, and took to the road as if he’d been born for it.

He’d needed help at every step, too. When he inevitably bumbled a deal or forgot where he’d put his earnings, she’d been there to take on odd jobs to keep them fed. When he got them lost on a long road between cities, she’d been there to forage and shelter and guide them back on the right track. She still remembered how much the hunger had hurt, how scary those dark nights alone were. But there had been happy moments, too, gazing under the stars and having her first earned coin dropped into her hands.

Over time, it had gotten easier. She’d matured rapidly and learned quickly how the world far beyond her village worked. And, in time, her father had found some comfort and shelter in an old friend from Gridania. The blessed woman offered him food and shelter on the pretense that he manage her stable’s finances and help look after the chocobos. More than that, she genuinely cared for him, perhaps even loved him, given the looks she saw them exchange when they thought she wasn’t looking.

She had no reason to be bitter, not with her fortune, her lovers, and all that had evolved in her favor. And yet, standing amid the familial bliss of her mother’s farm, she felt pity for the girl who had parented herself into adulthood. There was no shaking the feeling that something precious had been taken from her, yet she had no right to feel that she was lacking in anything.

“Are… Are you alright, Aveline?” Colin, the oldest between her brothers, was timid as he approached. The crunch of his footsteps was followed by the warm glow of lantern light.

Her senses returned to her abruptly, and she absently wiped at her damp cheeks before turning around to face him. “I’m fine. There’s no cause to worry.”

Colin bit his lip, and her stomach twisted at the thought of what he might have overheard. “I’m glad. I heard shouting.”

Oh. Well. “I might have been letting off some steam. There’s nothing you need concern yourself over.” Her expression was a guilty one, and the streaks of mud her hands had left on her cheeks didn’t add any dignity to the moment.

“I see.” Colin’s gaze lingered, brimming with concern, but all that followed his simple statement was a long and awkward silence. “You can tell me about it if you want.”

Aveline blinked, surprised. She expected him to urge her back to the house, not to expand on her irrational outburst even more. “There’s really nothing to say. Not more, at least.”

Her brother shifted uncomfortably before stepping closer. When he saw the extent of her dampened clothes, the line of his mouth flattened into yet more concern. “May I see you back home? It wouldn’t be right if you caught a cold.”

Her pride and a stronger need to be alone very nearly turned him down, but they’d set aside a guest room for her and it would be significantly warmer than the evening air steadily giving her goosebumps. She sighed and relented with a nod, placated by her brother’s worry.

The walk back was a slow and quiet one. Were it not for the perfect silence, she likely wouldn’t have heard his muttering.

“I have regrets, too.”

Aveline lofted a brow at this curious confession, not having expected it in the least. “I beg your pardon? Not about Mother, surely.”

“It’s more to do with you.” Colin ducked his head, uncharacteristically bashful. “I haven’t been much of a brother.”

“You can’t blame yourself for the distance of our parents. Though you were a miserable tease when we were younger, it’s nice to see that you’ve outgrown the worst of it. I don’t know how your wife would stand you otherwise.” Her smile turned wry — it was good to tease him as a sister should.

Her brother answered with a faint snort. “Lily always felt so delicate to me. You know how she struggled carrying our first child, and the first thought that came to my mind was that if anyone could help, it was you. You’ve always been so far ahead of me, strong and untouchable. I was so foolish, never thinking of how vulnerable you must have felt.”

“Where… is this coming from?” Aveline felt a prickle of something uncomfortable. Her brother had never been one for feelings, and she frankly hadn’t been one, either.

“I just…” Colin rubbed at the back of his neck, never meeting her gaze. “I just want you to know you’re not alone. I know I’m too late, and I’m a poor excuse for family, but this is your home, too. No matter how you feel about Mother, you have a place here if you ever want it.”

Aveline didn’t know what to say, and silence fell naturally between them again. On the one hand, she was perfectly ready to inform him that she would never want a place where her mother resided, but it wasn’t an offer from her mother. For once, utterly independent of his family, Colin had decided to be a brother.

“Thank you.” The two words were the most she could manage in the moment. All other thoughts led to old pains and complications she was too tired to consider, and so it was a brief and awkward goodnight when she finally stepped into her room.

#ffxiv roleplay

3 notes · View notes

faraway-wanderer · 4 years

Text

QUEER YA READS happy pride month here’s a list of lots of queer YA books!!

- The Henna Wars- Abida Jaigirdar When Nishat comes out to her parents, they say she can be anyone she wants—as long as she isn’t herself. Because Muslim girls aren’t lesbians. Nishat doesn’t want to hide who she is, but she also doesn’t want to lose her relationship with her family. And her life only gets harder once a childhood friend walks back into her life. Flávia is beautiful and charismatic and Nishat falls for her instantly. Amidst sabotage and school stress, their lives get more tangled—but Nishat can’t quite get rid of her crush on Flávia, and realizes there might be more to her than she realized

- Red, White and Royal Blue- Casey Mcquinston First Son Alex Claremont-Diaz is the closest thing to a prince this side of the Atlantic. With his intrepid sister and the Veep’s genius granddaughter, they’re the White House Trio, a beautiful millennial marketing strategy for his mother, President Ellen Claremont. International socialite duties do have downsides—namely, when photos of a confrontation with his longtime nemesis Prince Henry at a royal wedding leak to the tabloids and threaten American/British relations.

- You should see me in a crown- Leah Johnson Liz Lighty has always believed she's too black, too poor, too awkward to shine in her small, rich, prom-obsessed midwestern town. But it's okay -- Liz has a plan that will get her out of Campbell, Indiana, forever: attend the uber-elite Pennington College, play in their world-famous orchestra, and become a doctor.But when the financial aid she was counting on unexpectedly falls through, Liz's plans come crashing down . . . until she's reminded of her school's scholarship for prom king and queen

- Tell me How you Really Feel- Aminah Mae Safi Sana Khan is a cheerleader and a straight A student. She's the classic (somewhat obnoxious) overachiever determined to win.Rachel Recht is a wannabe director who's obsesssed with movies and ready to make her own masterpiece. As she's casting her senior film project, she knows she's found the perfect lead - Sana.There's only one problem. Rachel hates Sana. Rachel was the first girl Sana ever asked out, but Rachel thought it was a cruel prank and has detested Sana ever since.

- Like a love story- Abdi Nazemian It's 1989 in New York City, and for three teens, the world is changing.

- I Wish You All the Best- Mason Deaver At turns heartbreaking and joyous, I Wish You All the Best is both a celebration of life, friendship, and love, and a shining example of hope in the face of adversity.

- The Falling in Love Montage- Ciara Smyth Saoirse doesn’t believe in love at first sight or happy endings. If they were real, her mother would still be able to remember her name and not in a care home with early onset dementia. A condition that Saoirse may one day turn out to have inherited. So she’s not looking for a relationship. She doesn’t see the point in igniting any romantic sparks if she’s bound to burn out. But after a chance encounter at an end-of-term house party, Saoirse is about to break her own rules. For a girl with one blue freckle, an irresistible sense of mischief, and a passion for rom-coms.

- The Fascinators- Andrew Eliopulos Living in a small town where magic is frowned upon, Sam needs his friends James and Delia—and their time together in their school's magic club—to see him through to graduation.But as soon as senior year starts, little cracks in their group begin to show. Sam may or may not be in love with James. Delia is growing more frustrated with their amateur magic club. And James reveals that he got mixed up with some sketchy magickers over the summer, putting a target on all their backs.

- The Dark Tide- Alicia Jaskina The Wicked Deep meets A Curse So Dark and Lonely in this gripping, dark fairy-tale fantasy about two girls who must choose between saving themselves, each other, or their sinking island city

- Summer of Salt – Katrina Leno Georgina Fernweh waits with growing impatience for the tingle of magic in her fingers—magic that has been passed down through every woman in her family. Her twin sister, Mary, already shows an ability to defy gravity. But with their eighteenth birthday looming at the end of this summer, Georgina fears her gift will never come.

- Sawkill Girls- Claire Legrand Marion: the new girl. Awkward and plain, steady and dependable. Weighed down by tragedy and hungry for love she’s sure she’ll never find. Zoey: the pariah. Luckless and lonely, hurting but hiding it. Aching with grief and dreaming of vanished girls. Maybe she’s broken—or maybe everyone else is. Val: the queen bee. Gorgeous and privileged, ruthless and regal. Words like silk and eyes like knives, a heart made of secrets and a mouth full of lies.

- The Priory of the Orange Tree- Samantha Shannon A world divided. A queendom without an heir. An ancient enemy awakens. The House of Berethnet has ruled Inys for a thousand years. Still unwed, Queen Sabran the Ninth must conceive a daughter to protect her realm from destruction – but assassins are getting closer to her door. Ead Duryan is an outsider at court. Though she has risen to the position of lady-in-waiting, she is loyal to a hidden society of mages. Ead keeps a watchful eye on Sabran, secretly protecting her with forbidden magic. Across the dark sea, Tané has trained to be a dragonrider since she was a child, but is forced to make a choice that could see her life unravel.

- I was Born for this- Alice Oseman For Angel Rahimi, life is only about one thing: The Ark – a pop-rock trio of teenage boys who are currently taking the world by storm. Being part of The Ark’s fandom has given her everything – her friendships, her dreams, her place in the world. Jimmy Kaga-Ricci owes everything to The Ark too. He’s their frontman – and playing in a band is all he’s ever dreamed of doing. It’s just a shame that recently everything in his life seems to have turned into a bit of a nightmare.

- Summer Bird Blue Akemi Dawn Bowman- Bowman’s sophomore novel follows Rumi, a young musician plagued with grief and survivor’s guilt after her younger sister is killed in a car crash. Her mother sends her to liver with her aunt in Hawaii, and is also now mourning the loss of the music she would create with her sister and is unable to recapture her passion. As she navigates her loss, and feelings of abandonment from her mother, Rumi is also starting new relationships with neighbors, one a cute, easygoing surfer boy, and the other a irascible 80-year-old crankypants, while also becoming comfortable with her aromantic and asexual feelings.An immersive aromantic, asexual journey through grief and understanding.

- Felix Ever after- Kacen Callender a novel about a transgender teen grappling with identity and self-discovery while falling in love for the first time.

- The Stars and The Blackness Between Them - Junauda Petrus Audre and Mabel, Black girls who find romance just in time for everything to fall even further apart.

- By any means necessary- Candice Montgomery By Any Means Neccesary dives into the intersection of race and sexuality through the lens of its main character, Torrey, a gay Black college student.

- Her Royal Highness -Rachel Hawkins- When Millie Quint discovers her best friend-turned-girlfriend has been kissing someone else, she decides to get as far away from her as possible – by going to boarding school on the opposite side of the globe. The only issue? Millie’s new roomate is the actual princess of Scotland.

- Tash Hearts Tolstoy - Kathryn Omsbee, Natasha Zelenka (Tash), is a serious fangirl of Leo Tolstoy and a rising YouTube star with her webseries Unhappy Families, a modern-day adaptation of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, and Vlog, Tea with Tash. When a famous vlogger gives a shout out to the series, it goes viral. Now she, along with the cast and crew, are finding what it means to be a hit sensation and are managing the adoration, and the trolls, coming their way. Tash, a romantic asexual, has had a long time crush on the hit vlogger star Thom, who, as her online popular grows, so does Thom’s attention. Amidst the fame and romance, Tash is also dealing with her older sister creating distance, her parents announcing a new sibling on the way, college applications, the impending end of the series, and the big “What’s next.”An asexual romantic comedy coming of age.

- Full Disclosure- Camryn Garratt Camryn Garrett’s debut novel follows a Black, HIV-positive teen as she explores her first romantic relationship. There are few books that discuss what it’s like to live with HIV, especially those that are light, relatable, and told through the lens of a young Black girl.

- The Black Flamingo- Dean Atta Atta pens a coming-of-age story about a boy accepting his identity as a mixed-race gay teen, but then finds a place where he belongs as a drag artist named The Black Flamingo.

- Juniper Leaves- Jaz Joyner Kinky-haired Juniper Bray used to believe in magic, until she lost her best friend: her grandmother. Now this 15-year-old shy girl is headed to her father's research trip on a farm hundreds of miles away, with a family she barely knows and the opposite of a best friend, her new arch nemesis, Bree Mckinney. As if she wasn't miserable enough. Little does she know the next few months Juniper will discover magical powers she never knew she had, get a crush on a girl she never knew she'd like and well, quite frankly, save the world.

- Crier’s War - Nina Varela ‘In a world where humans are dominated by superior Automae, one human girl called Ayla takes the role of handmaiden to the Automae Lady Crier in order to help the human rebellion. But to Ayla’s horror, she finds herself falling for Crier.’

- Queen of Coin and Whispers Helen Corcoran -When a teenage queen inherits her uncle’s bankrupt kingdom, she brings with her a new spymaster – a girl who only accepted the role to avenge her murdered father. But faced with enemies at every turn, the two learn to rely on no one but each other . . . though it may bring their downfall.

- Huntress- Malinda Lo – Ill fortune has befallen the land, and two girls have been tasked with the mission of setting things right. As Kaede and Taisin journey to the city of the Fairy Queen, adventure and romance awaits.

- This Song Is (Not) for You - Laura Nowlin- This is not your usual love triangle. Ramona has been in love with her best friend and bandmate Sam for a long time, Sam has also been in love Ramona. When Tom joins the band, he completes them. Now Ramona is starting to have feelings for Tom, and those feelings are reciprocated. Tom is a romantic asexual, whose asexuality is fully explored

- Seven Tears at High Tide- C.B. Lee – After Kevin Luong drops, yup, seven tears into the sea, he ends up rescuing a boy from the waters. It’s love at first sight for Morgan who, unknown to Kevin, is a Selkie.

- Loveless -Alice Oseman- (out on the 9th July!!) Georgia has never been in love, never kissed anyone, never even had a crush – but as a fanfic-obsessed romantic she’s sure she’ll find her person one day.As she starts university with her best friends, Pip and Jason, in a whole new town far from home, Georgia’s ready to find romance, and with her outgoing roommate on her side and a place in the Shakespeare Society, her ‘teenage dream’ is in sight. But when her romance plan wreaks havoc amongst her friends, Georgia ends up in her own comedy of errors, and she starts to question why love seems so easy for other people but not for her. With new terms thrown at her – asexual, aromantic – Georgia is more uncertain about her feelings than ever.

- The Last Beginning- Lauren James- (you probably need to read the next together first which I HIGHLY recommend) Sixteen years ago, after a scandal that rocked the world, teenagers Katherine and Matthew vanished without a trace. Now Clove Sutcliffe is determined to find her long lost relatives.But where do you start looking for a couple who seem to have been reincarnated at every key moment in history? Who were Kate and Matt? Why were they born again and again? And who is the mysterious Ella, who keeps appearing at every turn in Clove's investigation? For Clove, there is a mystery to solve in the past and a love to find in the future, and failure could cost the world everything.

#i think i did a good job at finding alot of diverse ones and with different sexualites etc represented #i haven't read all of these but i've read some!#queer ya masterlist #book blogging #pride reads #queer books #lgbtq boo #lgbtq reads #ya books

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gilbirda · 4 years

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Of bats, dreams and human connections. Chapter 1

SebastianxF!Player

Maybe, in retrospective, moving to the middle of nowhere and become a farmer wasn't Liz's smartest idea. The worst part wasn't getting up early or doing housework or meeting new people, no - the worst part was having to bathe in sun cream every morning and pray no one noticed she didn't age or got tired or hurt no matter what.

Did I mention that Liz vas a vampire? Well, she was. And even if for some she was the stupidest vampire alive, in her defense she just wanted to make new friends. Fortunately for her, the local goth boy of the town may be available.

Based on @beansthatscream ‘s answer

[Read on AO3][Read on FF.net]

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Moving to Stardew Valley wasn’t exactly at first in Liz’s plans. Who in their right mind came to a sunny village in the middle of nowhere? I mean, if I were to tell you that she inherited her grandfather's farm and she felt like not going anywhere and blah blah blah…

Well, the thing is, Liz wasn’t exactly your city-girl-goes-farming story. Because she is, in fact, a vampire.

The grandfather’s farm part is true, though.

He was human, a man her coven adopted when he was a lonely kid orphaned in a war. She remembered thinking how absurd it was that vampire like them would adopt such weak creatures, but it wasn’t like she cared much about it. With time, she stopped finding her new immortal life so fascinating and started following the strange and humble old man that chose to call her family despite knowing what he did about her world.

When he died, he left her everything he owned. Including a run down farm in the middle of nowhere, sunny-ville.

Liz breathed deeply, enjoying the cold spring night’s air, one hand scratching her new cat’s chin (maybe she was being cheesy by calling him Lestat, but sue her), looking at the few sprouts growing in the cleared patch she made early in the season.

A farmer vampire. Who would have thought.

At least she didn’t have to eat, so that’s money she saved. Everything she earned would go to the next crop.

It has been around a week since she settled there and getting used to the slow pace everything seemed to go by there was… difficult. She had wanted to leave coven drama behind and try her hand at going solo for a while. Who knows? Maybe she could start a coven of her own-

A family. What she wanted was a family. A real connection, like what she had with grandpa. After so many decades she had forgotten what it felt, how human connections struck deeper than convenient alliances of vampire covens.

That’s why she wanted this to work. She wanted to feel what grandpa felt for so long, she wanted to make memories like those he shared with her before passing.

An uncomfortable sensation in her mouth reminded her that she needed to feed soon. Her fangs were getting out of control the longer she let herself starve, and the last few days she got away with not appearing around town, but people were going to notice if she let it go too far.

She looked up at the moon and sighed. Lestat jumped out of her lap and meowed softly before going inside to sleep. She should too, but the idea of turning and tossing around, hungry, wasn’t exactly in her top list of things to do all night. This “daytime” vampire thing was hard to get used to, but it was a needed evil.

She got up and decided to go for a walk to see if she could get a bit tired and sleep another night with an empty stomach. Tomorrow she would go to the city and feed, there were many people there and no one would notice a little wound here and there. In a small place like this? Someone would definitely would.

And when they did, every hope of forming a real human connection would go out of the window.

***

Sebastian didn’t know what to think about the new farmer. Sure, he had seen her walking around all dressed in black and with an enormous black parasol, saying something about sensitive skin, and he immediately respected the aesthetic.

The woman herself? Not so much. She was a mystery, she didn’t seem like she wanted to settle there at all.

Not that I blame her, he thought as he took another drag of his cigarette. I would leave this place as soon as I could. If I could.

He looked back at his house from his position by the lake, the moon shining down on his mother’s fine work on the exterior of the building. Sometimes, when he felt weak and vulnerable, he didn’t want to leave his mother there with Demetrius. He feared what would happen in his absence, what kind of arguments he would use to drag Robin to his side. Would he make her forget about him? About his father?

Would he matter at all?

Sebastian shook his head, knowing it was silly. If he stayed or left shouldn’t depend on his mother, but his own sanity.

Finishing his cig, he threw it down and smashed it with his foot, ready to head back in and finish his last project. Another sleepless night it seems, he sighed.

He turned and was about to take a step forward when a sharp pain bloomed in his hand.

“Shit.”

He looked down at his hand, and there it was, a fresh new cut in the otherwise clean skin. Damn these trees and their unexpected sharp barks. Whatever, he could find some band-aids before going back to the computer.

He looked up and she was there. The farmer.

He frowned. He hadn’t heard her approach, and it was a rather quiet night.

“Hello?” He tentatively called. She just stood there in silence, eyes fixed on his bleeding hand. “Are you alright?”

The farmer blinked slowly as if waking from a deep sleep, looking up to his eyes. Somehow he expected hers to be a weird color, like red or purple, but they were just plain old dark brown, almost black under the moonlight.

She licked her chapped lips. “Uh, sorry, I heard someone here and thought it was… Uh… I mean, it’s pretty late.”

Sebastian watched silently as she took a step back. “You are not making any sense.”

“I don’t, right?” she chuckled. “This is awkward. Um, I’m Liz, the new farmer, but I guess you already know that.” She offered her hand to shake, but he looked down at his still very much bleeding hand. “Oh, fuck, yes, sorry. You need any help with that?”

“It’s a small cut. I’ll live.” He took a paper tissue from his hoodie pocket and cleaned some of the blood with it, revealing an already closing wound. “See? Everything’s fine.”

The face she made was as if someone had kicked a puppy, her eyes following each one of his movements.

Sebastian shuffled for a second, visibly uncomfortable with the situation. “Are you ok?” he asked again, noticing how her face had morphed into a painful grimace.

“Yeah. It’s just I… I- I just remembered that I haven’t had dinner yet. And, um, yeah. I should go. Nice meeting you!”

Liz ran away without waiting for a response, leaving a very confused man by the lake.

“But it’s like three in the morning,” Sebastian thought out loud.

***

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Liz ran and ran, hoping that leaving the lake, the town and the valley behind could erase the last fifteen minutes of her life.

She almost slipped. The one thing she swore not to, she almost did. And by stopping herself from doing so, she acted like a total freak in front of an innocent villager. Oh, damn, he was going to tell his friends and they will tell their families and then…

Well, the thing with pitchforks and torches may be outdated, but she would be ostracised. Vampires were a myth nowadays, but still, they will treat her like a freak and won’t try to be nice anymore.

Aw man, I don’t want to leave so soon!

She hoped a least a few decades before people started noticing her not aging.

“More like a few weeks, now,” she grumbled, stopping to calm her breathing. She was fast, some of the faster of her coven, but in her starving state she was weaker than a baby vampire.

Great, she was in the middle of more nowhere now. Trees, trees, and more trees. Somewhere, a car was passing through a road by the mountain; but apart from that, not a sound. And she was hungry. Very, very hungry.

Liz glanced up at the darkness trying to find a lonely creature that could satiate her at least until she could reach the city. Then, wash away the awful taste of animal blood with some random drunk human enjoying the city at night.

A tree branch creaked at her side. She looked up, finding a mountain lion crouching, watching her with distrust.

“Sorry, buddy.” She smiled at the animal and jumped.

***

Sebastian was going to kill Sam. It was official. I mean, how could he not when he was dragged from bed after barely getting a few hours of sleep, forced to look alive under the sunlight and be conscious enough to listen to his friends rambling about the incoming egg festival like it was a big deal. Who the hell cares??

“Right, Seb?” Abigail prompted, expecting his answer as if he was listening.

“Huh?”

“We were saying,” Sam tried to help, “that we could ask the mayor if we could play a few songs at the festival.”

He blinked slowly, letting it know his overall opinion of the matter. It’s just a stupid festival about eggs. He couldn't care less.

What he wanted was to get out of the sun and go back to sleep. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t get any sleep even after finishing his work, really; the dull pain of the small cut in his hand reminded him of the weirdest night of his life.

I wasn’t like he had any real opinion of the farmer (Liz, she said her name was Liz) before; but now he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the road that led towards her farm from Sam’s house, as if expecting her to emerge any moment now. What would he even say to her? Last night he uttered barely a word before she bolted away. Did he expect this time to be different?

Suddenly, as if summoned, she appeared. All dressed in black and with her big parasol, looking down at her feet as she approached them. Was she ignoring him? Them?

“Oh, hey, Liz!” Sam, always bright and cheery, motioned her to join them. It wasn’t the first time he did, but it was the first time the mysterious woman obeyed.

“Hey.” Her smile was tiny, but welcoming. Even some pink gathered in her cheeks, clearly embarrassed with the situation. “What’s up.”

Sebastian wouldn’t say it out loud, but was glad of her parasol as it blocked some light for his tired eyes.

"Duuuude, you look half dead!" The blond commented, real concern in his face.

"Uh, I couldn't sleep last night," Liz smiled, shifting her parasol to cover her better. If she noticed Sebastian moving accordingly to receive some shade, she didn't say anything.

“Woah, it seems like we have a contender for the role of Pelican Town’s resident vampire, Seb!”

He rolled his eyes. “Just because I wear black hoodies and don’t like people doesn’t make me a vampire, Sam. And I already told you that last night I was finishing a commision.”

“Whatever you say, emo boy,” Abigail arched an eyebrow and turned to the newcomer. “What’s your excuse, not-vampire?” She made a gesture to her whole gothic get-up.

“Um, I’m allergic to sunlight. For real!” she laughed at the disbelieving faces. “It’s a real thing, look it up!”

“Then why become a farmer?”

This time Liz rolled her eyes. “I should have expected the question. It isn’t like Robin and Lewis asked that already.” She sighed. “It seemed like the right thing to do, you know? I was tired of being a nobody, of being lonely around so many people, and wanted a real human connection.”

“That’s deep, tho.”

“But if you are allergic to the sun, how do you do farmer stuff? At night?” the blond asked, one eye fixed on his best friend getting closer and closer to Liz, drinking up the shade from the parasol like a starving man.

“There’s this new invention called “sunblock”. Don’t know if you heard of it?” Liz smirked. “And my problem is direct sunlight. I burn if it touches me, but for the rest…” she shrugged.

Sebastian yawned, feeling his eyes close. Why was he even awake? Ah, yeah, Sam wanted to practise in case the Mayor let them play at the festival.

“If we aren’t going to get any practising today then I’m going home. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Oh, sorry. I must get going too. I had some business to attend,” Liz smiled. “Nice talking with you guys.” She walked away, waving with one hand.

Sebastian didn’t whine when the sun hit his face. Uh-huh. He didn’t miss her calming and fresh presence and very wide and very convenient parasol.

Okay, maybe a little. The hoodie was starting to feel a bit too hot for the sunny spring day.

“She’s perfect,” the blond said watching the farmer go.

“Huh?”

“For you dude! You guys make a super cute goth couple! Ask her out already!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Liz! The farmer! You were making heart eyes at her all this time! Don’t deny it, I saw everything.”

“I saw it too,” Abigail nodded, “and the goth gods are smiling at you today, dude.”

He narrowed his eyes. It was way too early for this bullshit.

“I didn’t make heart eyes. And she is weird, that’s all.”

“Yeah right,” both friends snorted. “Whatever you say.” Sam shook his head.

“Look, we can practise or I can go home. Last chance.”

“Ok! Ok! Calm down Romeo, we’ll practise. And then you can go back to your coffin and sleep some more.”

***

Had he told them something? Didn’t he? He did, he totally did. That question didn’t come from nowhere. It couldn’t.

She was prepared to tell some bullshit about an allergy to sunlight, she had looked up the name for it (something very latin-sounding and technical that for the life of her she couldn’t remember); but it wasn’t a coincidence to be asked that barely hours after slipping like that. Or was it?

Sebastian didn’t look half alive either, and his interactions were rather minimal. She heard something about him not getting any sleep. Liz assumed it had to do with how awkward she had been. Oh my.

Calm down! She told herself. Panicking wouldn’t solve anything, no.

She had to go buy new seeds, for sure. That’s why she had went through all the trouble of covering her skin with sunblock, after all.

Pierre’s was small and it barely had any variety of products, but she preferred the homey sensation and the small town friendliness over the cold treatment at Joja’s. Since learning about the store in town she avoided it like the plague.

She fetched her seeds and approached the counter, adding a last-minute sandwich to help the illusion of being a normal human being. One was never too cautious about that.

***

Sebastian was ready to drop dead in his bed and sleep until tomorrow, for real. After a heated argument with Lewis they were allowed “only a few songs, but nothing inappropriate!” for the egg festival, and then Sam insisted on sitting down and choose which songs to play and then start practising on them.

The sun was starting to set by the time he got home, his mind focused on his cold basement and his bed, heaven on Earth.

What he didn’t expect was finding her sleeping in his house. Well, she was more like dozing on the sofa at the entrance, by his mother’s desk, but here she was - looking as dead as he felt. Bags under her eyes, the purple so dark it looked like it was tattooed on her skin.

Not knowing what to do, he postponed his escape to sacred grounds and looked for his mother at the kitchen, who was calmly drinking her tea as she prepared dinner.

“Why is the farmer sleeping in our house?”

“Huh?” Robin turned slightly, a small smile in her face. “We were talking about expanding the cottage and she fell asleep waiting while I checked something. I thought she looked cute so I let her.”

Cute? More like a walking corpse.

He must said so out loud, because his mother chuckled as she kept stirring something in the pot. “She reminds me of you, actually. You both work so hard at the cost of your health.”

“Don’t know what you are talking about.” He huffed, crossing his arms. First his friends and now his mother? They barely knew her, how could they know what was she like?

“Whatever,” he could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Could you wake her up? I’m almost done here.”

“She’s staying for dinner?”

“She will, when you invite her to.”

Sebastian rose his arms to the sky, wondering why he got the short stick in life. “Sure.”

Liz was sleeping in the same position he left her in, and he wondered how to wake her. He didn’t want to be rude, for real, but he didn’t know her enough to be comfortable touching her without her knowing. He sighed, not really wanting to be caught looking at the sleeping woman and seem like a creep.

“Hey,” he shook her shoulder. She didn’t move. “Hey, you.” He shook harder. Nothing.

Why? he asked the heavens, getting closer to her, deciding how to make his next move, when the farmer inhaled deeply.

“Hmm,” he heard her murmur before her unexpectedly strong arms seized his shoulders. Her face got closer, and he could barely see her eyes still shut as her head positioned somewhere between his neck and his shoulder. “Smells nice.”

He shivered, feeling her warm breath caress his uncovered skin, wondering what the hell was going on. Then, something hot and wet touched him. A tongue. He knew what it was.

Oh hell, no!

“Hey!” he tried to get free, but her grasp was like iron. “Let me go!” he hissed.

“Yummy, yummy…”

He closed his eyes, dreading whatever was going to happen. His heart raced with adrenaline, but his body was frozen in place, knowing it was useless to try escaping her hands. Her breath hit his wet skin, and then something sharp and solid touched it -

“Sebby, what’s going on in there?” Robin’s voice cut through the haze like a knife, stopping his racing mind as well as the woman assaulting him in her sleep.

Fingers that one second ago felt like claws gripping his shoulders let him go. He heard a gasp and opened his eyes, finding her dark eyes of the farmer looking back at him. For a split second they were like -

“Sebby?”

Both turned to look at Robin, Sebastian taking a step back, his heart beating louder than Abby’s drums.

“Everything alright?” His mom asked, a small smirk in her lips indicating that she thought something of the situation way different than what really happened. “Did you ask her?”

“Ask me what?” Liz’s voice was rough, but sounded calmer than she looked.

“If you want to stay for dinner!”

The farmer stood up abruptly. “I’m afraid I can’t. I have… I have some fish at home I don’t want to go bad. You know?” She took her closed parasol and went for the door. “Thanks for letting me rest here, Robin. Have a nice evening!”

The sound of the door closing was loud on Sebastian’s ears. He blinked, looking back at his mother.

“I’m not hungry. Save my plate and I’ll eat later, please.” And he run away to his basement, more confused than ever.

***

Stupid, stupid, and a thousand times stupid!

She had slipped again! In less than a day? Definitely not paying attention to her body had most certainly cost her only chance at happiness.

How could she? That poor boy! She almost bit him in broad daylight! In his own house! Oh yeah, she was utterly fucked.

Liz wanted to cry by the time she got home.

She looked at her few belongings, wondering if she should start packing up now or wait until people accused her of whatever and asked her “nicely” to leave the town. She had just started to gain some profits and she had to let it go so soon… Who would take care of her grandpa’s lands? The people were really nice, someone would-

Lestat meowed at her feet, unleashing a whole new wave of waterworks. Who would take care of her cat? Was his even “her” cat if she only had him less than a week? She hoped that whoever adopted him kept the name. Or not.

“Ugh,” she let her body collapse at the door, pulling up her legs to rest her head on her knees. “I should have slept in today.” It was a bad idea to go out today, the seeds could have waited one day more or she could have talked with Robin another day. She knew that she only pushed herself so far because she didn’t want to go through practically bathing in sunblock again so soon.

How silly it seemed now. Her own stubbornness and overconfidence put her in this position. Crying in fetal position against her door, waiting for the pitchforks and torches, real or figurative.

A knock at her door brought her back to reality. Showtime.

She got up and cleaned her face as best as she could. One wasn’t chased out of a town looking like a mess.

Once she felt like she could face an angry mob, she opened her door and… Sebastian was there? Liz looked around waiting for the rest of the group to appear, but it was dark and silent. A normal Stardew Valley night.

“Um, hello?” the boy in front of her said. She looked back at him, frowning.

“Where’s the rest?”

“The rest of what?”

Liz blinked slowly. “The rest of the people who knows I almost attacked an innocent man? And is here to ask me to leave?” her voice went higher with each word.

Sebastian snorted. “I haven’t told anyone that you are not human, don’t worry. Can I come in now?”

“Oh, I see, that’s nice- Wait what?”

He got tired of waiting and walked around her to get inside. Once in the small cottage, he approached the tiny table and put a container on it.

“Mom made you dinner anyway. She asked me to deliver it to you. But I guess you won’t eat it because you are a vampire.”

Liz turned, her mouth wide open. “How do you know that?”

“You just confirmed it,” his smile was tired, but brilliant.

“Oh, fuck.”

Sebastian flopped down on the only chair by the table, and rested his head on his hand, watching the farmer with a knowing smile.

“So, what is a vampire doing in Stardew Valley?”

“Farmer stuff, I guess.”

“And was that old man really your grandfather?”

“Not by blood, but we were close friends.”

“I see. Do you really burn in the sun?”

“As I told your friend, I can’t be under direct sunlight. And I use sun cream.” She blinked at the quasi-normal interview. “Excuse me, when is the moment you start to freak out?”

“I already did some of that. An hour ago. When you almost bit me. Because that’s what happened, right?” he gulped. “You almost bit me.”

She took a deep breath.

“Yeah. I, uh… I couldn’t sleep last night, you know?” she looked down, a bit ashamed. “And I guess you were really close and um, human blood is really tasty, not like animal, that’s just, ugh, and then I was dreaming about something nice and-”

“Do vampires sleep?”

“This isn’t Twilight. Please. And I don’t sparkle either.” She narrowed her eyes.

They both looked at each other for a few awkward seconds before starting to laugh. It was silly, Liz thought, to be talking normally like that after having a mental breakdown because of this same boy.

Oh, well.

“So… not freaking out? We good?” maybe she showed a bit of her fangs in her smile. Maybe.

“Yeah, we good. Surprisingly enough, it helps knowing that you aren’t just some weirdo.” He blushed and looked down, his face partially blocked by his hair. “And I guess it is pretty hot.”

Of course you would, you emo fuck

***

That night, once Sebastian got home, ate dinner and collapsed on his bed, he felt like waking up from a dream.

The farmer. She was… nicer than he thought. Once they cleared the stupid but necessary questions out of the way (no coffin, no aversion to garlic, yes to needing blood, no to killing people, a “you don’t ask a lady her age” and a “rude” to asking about religion) they simply chilled at her home, talking about everything and anything. It turned out that she liked the same branch of fantasy than him, even if she sometimes succumbed to cheesy romance novels full of porn; she had played some D&D before, but had heard about Solarion Chronicles (he invited her to the next session nonetheless); and she had tried her hand at piano for a while until she got bored a few decades ago.

He inhaled, remembering her dark eyes and her shiny black hair, how the light got caught in weird angles making it look like it had silver highlights sometimes. How she smiled when he confessed about his obsession with vampirism in his teenage years, how her laugh was contagious when she told the tale of how to get an annoying neighbour to move out by making her believe her house was haunted.

Oh, my. He had caught feelings.

Sebastian put a hand over his eyes, unable to stop the thoughts coming to his brain. How soft and huggable she looked. How she could fit perfectly in his arms, if he dared. How her soft hair would feel between his fingers. How her breasts bounced when she plopped down by the bed, complaining about not having enough chairs.

Yes, he had looked. Respectfully, though.

Who was he kidding? He was totally looking at her chest.

Next Chapter >>

BACK TO THE ARCHIVE

#sebastian sdv #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew valley #writeblr #gil writes #fanfic #look this is filled with memes and useless things #don't judge me #fanfiction #sdv sebastian

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tabloidtoc · 4 years

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Globe, April 20

Cover: Kenny Rogers’ body is still on ice -- why his widow won’t bury him

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Sloppy Tyra Banks, Gary Busey grocery shopping in Beverly Hills, Brian Austin Green grabs meals to go

Page 3: Lisa Marie Presley is living large, puffy-faced Goldie Hawn hikes to her California home, Chris Pratt spring cleaning

Page 4: Bindi Irwin has another surprise in store after pulling off her secret Australia Zoo wedding to Chandler Powell -- she’s pregnant

Page 5: A bank has asked the LA Sheriff’s Office to force Tori Spelling to pay a $89,000 credit card debt and her money-bags mom Candy Spelling has once again refused to help, Patrick Stewart secretly married his third wife singer-songwriter Sunny Ozell in a Mexican restaurant in California with Ian McKellen officiating

Page 6: Catherine Zeta-Jones admits she’s a bitch and being polite to fans pushes her over the edge

Page 7: Spoiler Alert for Grey’s Anatomy -- Ellen Pompeo who has starred as Dr. Meredith Grey for 15 seasons will be killed off next season in a blockbuster story line

Page 8: Now that he’s moving to California rogue royal Prince Harry plans to turn his years as a stoner into a king’s ransom by launching a huge marijuana business empire -- Harry and wife Meghan Markle are slapping down $9 million for a 286- acre pot farm near Clear Lake in north central California to fuel their flashy new Hollywood lifestyle

Page 10: Jon Voight tells his daughter Angelina Jolie to back off of Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston

Page 11: Law & Order vet Elisabeth Rohm has called off her year-long engagement to California judge Jonathan Colby on good terms but the two have different priorities at this time, the handwritten lyrics to Hey Jude by Paul McCartney are set to sell for nearly $200,000 at a massive online Beatles auction

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Conan O’Brien rides a bike through Brentwood, Ellen DeGeneres has been recently blasted as one of the meanest people alive, Amy Poehler is co-founder of the Upright Citizens Brigade in Hollywood and NYC and the comedy clubs and improv schools laid off most staff without notice or severance or health coverage and only after embarrassing press and online comments trashed the millionaire she finally will provide funds for a one-month extension to healthcare for the full-time benefit eligible staff, Little Big Town singer Kimberly Schlapman says she’s 100% sure her 12-year-old daughter Daisy was a heaven-sent miracle thanks to her deceased first husband Steven Roads, Woody Allen outcreeps himself by spilling in his memoir the details of bedding both sisters of his former muse and live-in girlfriend Diane Keaton, Ramona Singer of RHONYC did away with the housecleaners due to coronavirus and posted a picture of herself mopping in a sexy nightie

Page 13: Frumpy Kate Hudson, Sean Penn’s silver roots start to show, Maud Adams walks her dog, Kristen Stewart relies on the company of ghosts

Page 14: Seth Rogen has a new pastime: watching flick flops like Cats while flying high, Demi Lovato’s got something to sing about -- a brand new ripped boyfriend named Max Ehrich who loves showing off his astonishing pecs, Fashion Verdict -- Emily Blunt 5/10, Noomi Rapace 3/10, Christina Aguilera 2/10, Cardi B 4/10

Page 16: Rihanna vows to have up to four children in ten years with or without a man, Superman never carried an ounce of flab but his alter ego Dean Cain has piled on an unhealthy 50 pounds and is gobbling supersize portions of pizza and fast food to find comfort because of his nose-diving career

Page 17: Inked-up train wreck Aaron Carter declared himself single in a nude photo after his girlfriend Melanie Martin whose name was just tattooed on his face was collared for felony domestic violence

Page 19: 10 Things You Don’t Know About Scarlett Johansson, Luann de Lesseps confesses she’s still tippling even after her shameful drunken bust, stuck in lockdown Courteney Cox is binge-watching her sitcom Friends and was shocked to realize she can’t remember most of the series that made her rich and famous

Page 20: True Crime

Page 23: Former boxing champ Mike Tyson is dropping shocking confessions including having sex with fans, drug binges, psychedelic trips and being pen pals with England’s most vicious gangster

Page 24: Cover Story -- a furious family feud is exploding over late country great Kenny Rogers whose body is being kept on ice because his widow Wanda Rogers wants to hold a massive send-off that’s now banned by the coronavirus lockdown

Page 26: Health Report

Page 29: Eminem gushes that being able to raise kids is one of his greatest accomplishments, former steroids user and New York Mets catcher Paul Lo Duca is raging over how fellow cheater Alex Rodriguez has revived his image as an A-list celeb and is slamming the retired New York Yankees slugger as one of the fakest people out there, Alicia Keys felt manipulated and objectified by a sleazy photographer who made her open her shirt and yank down the top of her jeans when she was only 19

Page 30: Former teen sex slave Virginia Roberts Giuffre who claims she was pimped out to Britain’s Prince Andrew by pedophile Jeffrey Epstein is now charging the kinky billionaire and his mistress Ghislaine Maxwell pressured her to carry his child through surrogacy

Page 31: Steve Carell shockingly quit his hit show The Office at the peak of its popularity because he wasn’t feeling the love from showrunners

Page 32: Single mom-of-three Kourtney Kardashian is so lonely and desperate for love she’s stopped being set up by Hollywood pals and is casting her fishing net for a man online, a London collector of James Bond guns was robbed of five pistols used in 007 flicks worth a staggering $125,000, a sweaty towel that late NBA star Kobe Bryant tossed over his shoulders as he bid goodbye to basketball has shockingly sold for more than $33,000

Page 38: Real Life

Page 40: Daniel Craig is worth about $180 million thanks to playing James Bond but he’s got bad news for his kids -- he’s cutting them off without a cent because he finds inheritance distasteful -- he has a 28-year-old daughter from his first marriage to Fiona Loudon and a two-year-old daughter with current wife Rachel Weisz, busted in the college admissions cheating scandal Lori Loughlin and husband Mossimo Giannulli are accusing the prosecution of strong-arming its key witness to lie that they knew their payments were bribes and not donations to the university

Page 44: Straight Talk -- newly leaked video is yet more proof that desperate loser Kanye West is a filthy parasite who’s been trying to save his fizzling career by leeching onto superstar songbird Taylor Swift

Page 45: George Clooney is in hot water now that Nespresso the coffee giant he shills for on TV has admitted buying beans from farms that pay kids pennies for laboring in the fields, dumpy Drew Barrymore is hitting rock bottom again with her weight and is tired of blubbering in her closet over clothes that don’t fit and has vowed to give the extra weight the heave-ho before her new daytime talk show gets going

Page 47: Hollywood Flashback -- Psycho, Bizarre But True

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jamesginortonblog · 4 years

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London-born, Yorkshire-raised actor James Norton, 34, is best known for his TV roles in Happy Valley, Grantchester, McMafia and War and Peace. He now plays Stephen Ward, a key figure in the Profumo affair, in BBC One’s new drama The Trial Of Christine Keeler, which starts on Sunday 29 Decemberat 9pm. He also appears in Little Women, in cinemas now, and stars in Mr Jones, a film about the Welsh journalist who broke the news of the 1932 Soviet famine, released on 7 February.

1. Theatre

Slave Play by Jeremy O Harris

I asked my friend Kyle Soller [American actor currently in The Inheritance] what play to see in New York and without hesitation, he said this. It didn’t disappoint. It’s taken Broadway by storm but I was lucky enough to get a last-minute ticket and went on my own. It’s tricky to discuss the plot without spoilers because there’s an incredible twist halfway through but it takes a huge swing at questions surrounding race, sexuality and gender in America with such punch and provocation, you can’t help but admire its bravery. A phenomenal sensory overload. It’s meant to be coming to London and I wholeheartedly recommend it.

2. Music

Sharon Van Etten

It’s an achievement to stand out at Glastonbury, considering the bill there - I saw Stormzy, Ezra Collective, Jungle, all these brilliant acts - but Sharon Van Etten was the one who really popped for me at this year’s festival and she’s since taken over my Spotify. Her music is so visceral and emotive. She has this raspy, irreverent voice and her lyrics have such power and poetry. I’ve had her Remind Me Tomorrow album, especially the song Seventeen, on repeat ever since. It whisks me straight back to bouncing around at Worthy Farm.

3. Novel

The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers

My girlfriend [actor Imogen Poots] is a voracious reader who’s always suggesting authors to me and Carson McCullers was the most recent. This is her debut, published in 1940 when she was 23, which is just absurd considering it’s so extraordinary. It’s the story of a deaf-mute in a 1930s mill town and the disparate people he meets. McCullers writes with such insight into these characters, all differing in age, gender and social class. It’s so mature and sophisticated, I keep having to remind myself how young she was. It’s essentially about loneliness, and a deeply moving read.

4. Bar

Village Vanguard, New York

I’ve been shooting in upstate New York for the past few months, so I’m afraid many of my recent highlights are New York-based. Two weeks ago I had a wonderful night at this old jazz bar in the West Village. It’s got amazing heritage and tradition. All the greats have played there. It’s exactly how you’d imagine a downtown jazz club to be: small tables, great cocktails, superb music. We saw the Javon Jackson Quartet, drank multiple vodka martinis and felt excellent. There wasn’t any dancing that night but there was chin-stroking, head-nodding and foot-tapping. Followed by enthusiastic applause, perhaps even some whooping.

5. Film

The Rider (2017)

I watch a lot of films, so it was hard to pick one but this really stuck with me. It’s directed by Chloé Zhao, won a prize at Cannes and is about the rodeo circuit and modern-day cowboys. It has almost documentary naturalism, mostly using non-actors, which is always interesting, and its world is incredibly well realised. The lead character is played by Brady Jandreau, who’d never acted before, and he’s insanely raw and gut-wrenching. It’s bleak but also breathtakingly beautiful. Zhao gets these magic hour shots, which are something to behold.

6. Exhibition

Implicit Tensions: Mapplethorpe Now

I’m ashamed to say I didn’t know much about Robert Mapplethorpe but he’s such an iconic figure in American art, so I went along to the [New York] Guggenheim to educate myself. It’s about his legacy and how his work has translated to modern society. It was so potent and contentious when he was making it in the 70s and 80s. Photographs were placed next to negative reviews and soundbites from the time. His audacious work was met by so much fear and mistrust when he was alive. It was striking how much – and in some cases, how little – attitudes have moved on.

#james norton #article #interviews #culture #preferences

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auron570 · 5 years

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2018 Readlist

FAQ

Why do you read so many old books?

Because most of them belong to the public domain, and are thus freely available online. Also it is fun to see how much the past influences and creates the foundation for the present. And how much or how little has changed, and what this says about humanity.

Orwell - Animal Farm (1945)

A satire on the Russian Revolution and the failure of communism. Among other things, Animal Farm underlines the importance of learning to read properly and think for oneself, in a way that tickles with dark humor.

Orwell - 1984 (1949)

Similar to Animal Farm, 1984 is an even more systematic and total examination of a society where all history and information is tightly controlled and constantly being rewritten. Being published after WW2, 1984 trades some of Animal Farm’s humor for more serious and tragic imagery of concentration camps. In a sense, 1984 is an exploration of the possibility of mind control or brainwashing through societal-level propaganda.

Huxley - Brave New World (1932)

Absolutely fantastic. If 1984 was about what would happen if everything we read was false, then Brave New World is what would happen if no one had the desire to read at all. Brave New World shows a futuristic society that runs like clockwork with the help of genetic engineering and a miracle drug called Soma. COMMUNITY, IDENTITY, STABILITY. BNW examines the costs of a society that is mass-produced off assembly lines.

Fitzgerald - Great Gatsby (1925)

A criticism of conspicuous consumption and the Roaring 20s. You can’t bring your mansion with you when you die. Mortality sucks that way. Throughout the novel we are invited to ask ‘what makes Gatsby (the character) so great?’ From rags to riches to death, Gatsby’s lonely existence is pitiable, tragic and relatable as ever.

Steinbeck - Grapes of Wrath (1939)

Steinbeck’s illustration of the 1930s Dust Bowl and the resulting migration of impoverished families west across the United States, is a poetic masterpiece. ‘You want to work for 15cents an hour?! Well I got a thousan’ fellas willing to work 10cents an hour.’ Also featuring two of the strongest female characters in modern literature, Grapes of Wrath is a powerful lesson on human dignity.

Shakespeare - Hamlet (1599)

The more I read Hamlet, the more I come to the conclusion that Hamlet is about delay of action. In a way, Hamlet forces himself to be penitent for something he doesn’t do. The more time he spends contemplating whether or not to kill Claudius, the more time he has to beat himself up and call himself a coward, and for accidents to pile up. ‘But put your courage to the sticking place!’ Hamlet is what happens when you ask a philosopher to commit murder.

Shakespeare - King Lear (1605)

A lesson in parenting. If you want people (especially your children) to respect you, do not spoil them. Lear learns this lesson far too late, and gives up his inheritance far too early. Another possible lesson is to not trust liars, and instead divine a person’s character by their actions. The trouble is, with so much action going on behind the scenes, the opportunities for dramatic irony and treachery are twofold!

Wilde - Picture of Dorian Gray (1890)

An example of 19th century Gothic Romanticism. And also, similar to Great Gatsby, another cautionary tale against conspicuous consumption. Dorian Gray, forever beautiful, forever young, is by all appearances the outward ideal of a dandy. As the novel develops, his cruelty and vanity plunge to increasing depths.

Wilde - Importance of Being Earnest (1895)

The comedic side of being a dandy. If the suit makes the man, surely if I wear a different suit I become a different man? In a play of double-identities, love polygons and other trivialities, Earnest is a raucous upset of 19th century decorum.

Ibsen - Hedda Gabler (1891)

A complex and cruel character, Hedda’s penchant for destroying the lives of others, seems to stem from bitterness and boredom toward her own life.

Williams - Glass Menagerie (1944)

Theater is a box through which we view the lives of our fellow homo sapiens. Like passing by an exhibit at the museum, or peeking in on pandas at the zoo, Glass Menagerie presents a slice of life.

McCourt - Angela’s Ashes (1996)

A coming-of-age memoir about an Irish boy growing up in an impoverished family. From the day he’s born to the day he becomes a man, memorable moments include: father always coming home drunk, scavenging for coal to get the fire going, stealing loaves of bread, shoes made of tire rubber, having an affair with a terminally ill girl, having pig’s head for Christmas, and wearing Grandma’s old dress to stay warm at night.

Salinger - Catcher in the Rye (1951)

A tightly written story of teenage angst, about the few days after an unmotivated student drops out of a New York prep school. Unable to face his family, he wanders around the bustling city, growing increasingly depressed. Holden’s conversations with different characters throughout the novel, underline a simple moral that sometimes we just want someone to listen. (Preferably someone who isn’t a phony!)

Shakespeare - Macbeth (1606)

A bloody and ambitious soldier descends into madness after the murders the King! It can be difficult interpreting and staging the supernatural elements of the play (e.g. do you show the ghosts on stage? what about the Witches? When, why). But remember Shakespeare is writing in a time hundreds of years before modern psychology, where memory and cognition was still immaterial and mysterious. Similar to Dorian Gray (1890), Macbeth is a moral on how one’s actions affect one’s mind.

Albom - Tuesdays with Morrie (1997)

Succumbing to ALS near the end of his life, sociology professor Morrie Schwartz welcomes death with open arms. Hosting many visitors and having many conversations with family, friends, past students, the media, Morrie’s affable outlook on life and mortality shines.

Golding - Lord of the Flies (1954)

An allegory on the state of nature. One wonders if/how the story may have been different (and possibly more horrifying and prone to censorship debates) if female characters were involved. I suppose that would be a separate inquiry. Unable to see beyond the horizon, and unwilling to look at themselves, Jack and his follows almost doom them all.

Lowry - The Giver (1993)

Another science fiction dystopia in a similar vein as Brave New World or 1984, but less difficult and more relatable for teenagers. Those who enjoy The Giver, should check out the film Pleasantville (1998) featuring Tobey Macguire getting stuck in a black-and-white world. Naturally the lesson being that life is never so simple.

Naipaul - Miguel Street (1959)

A collection of short stories centered around unique characters in a slum in Port of Spain. Featuring arson, domestic violence and plenty of eccentric amateurs, Miguel Street illustrates a colorful community.

Thiong’O - Weep Not Child (1964)

Set during the Mau Mau Uprising against British colonial rule, Weep Not Child follows one boy’s goal of education. Meanwhile his family falls apart around him, and is cut off from his best friend.

Montgomery - Anne of Green Gables (1908)

Having recently been adapted by CBC/Netflix into a series (which is very good), the original novel is full of comedy, quaint coming-of-age lessons centered around school, tea parties, accidents and adventures. But despite this levity, Anne ends with a tragic turn which places it well within the realm of reality.

Shelley - Frankenstein (1818)

Another example of 19th century Gothic Romanticism (like Dorian Gray). Doctor Victor Frankenstein becomes obsessed with the idea of creating life from inanimate material, only to spurn his own creation just after giving life to it. The monster, filled with rage and envy, murders Frankenstein’s dearest friends. A sort of cautionary tale in the same vein as Doctor Faustus by Marlowe, Frankenstein is a counter-weight to the enthusiasm around science at the time. That science can not only produce miracles, but also horrors in its own way if one is not careful.

Anderson - Winesburg Ohio (1919)

A collection of short stories revolving around a small community (similar to Miguel Street). Themes of religion, old age, loneliness, love, feeling stuck in a small town, Winesburg is full of some of the most heart-rending stories in all literature. Also Winesburg manages to accomplish a unity of themes in very short space. The whole of Winesburg is much more than the sum of its parts, such that it can stand just as well against other great novels.

Bronte, Charlotte - Jane Eyre (1847)

One could argue that Jane Eyre is the predecessor to Anne of Green Gables. The latter frequently references the former, both are about orphan girls who grow up successfully in the face of many adverse challenges. While Anne ends with the protagonist becoming a young adult, Jane Eyre ends with a more traditional romantic happy ending, but like Anne is not without its tragedy.

Bronte, Emily - Wuthering Heights (1847)

Fun fact, Wuthering Heights was a novel I considered doing an independent study essay on, but didn’t since I didn’t know anything about literature back then. Although technically of the gothic genre, Bronte primarily uses cruelty and domestic violence to evoke scenes of horror, as opposed to ghosts and monsters, while at the same time using these as tools to explore very down-to-earth themes of social class and gender inequality.

Joyce - Dubliners (1914)

Very similar to Winesburg Ohio, but without the same unity. For example, one story is difficult to read without first reading about the history of Ireland. There are some tear-jerkers and lovely metaphors. For example the final metaphor of “snow falling faintly through the universe”, is a variation of the oft-used metaphor of flowers. How they bloom for a short period then die. What is new with this metaphor is that each snowflake is unique, thanks to the chaotic tumbling of water droplets through the atmosphere, just like how every live is unique. But all snowflakes much reach the ground some time and then melt away into nothingness.

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fyrapartnersearch · 5 years

Text

Long term M/M roleplays

Hey! I’m Kat, and looking for some more roleplays. I’m in my early twenties, so no worries there, and I’m in the GMT+3 time-zone, though I tend to be up at odd hours and I’m often online.

I mainly want to roleplay M/M right now. I tend to write multi-para and more often than not my replies are 700+ words. I don’t mind shorter replies, as long as I get at least a few good sized paragraphs and correct spelling/grammar. Mistakes happen and that’s fine, but I don’t want to read something with no punctuation and that’s nothing but mistakes.

Also please read this whole thing before sending me a message!! I ask you don’t just send “wanna RP?”, because I won’t know unless you tell me something you had in mind: a plot, an idea of mine you liked, anything really.

As for smut, I adore it. I don’t want to write only smut for now, but anything from 20/80 to 80/20 on plot/smut ratio is good for me. Just tell me if you want more plot or smut.

In M/M smut I prefer playing a submissive/bottom character. I can play a dominant character, but I don’t enjoy it so I wish you’ll be willing to play an exclusively dominant role.

What I like:

- Medieval/historical settings (especially ancient Egypt/Rome/Greece) - Forbidden love - Arranged marriage - Lots and lots of drama and dark themes - But also fluffy scenes and cute/happy moments - Mpreg (not a must at all, if you’re not into it) - Supernatural beings (werewolves, vampires, demons, gods etc.) - Omega verse - Role reversal (such as, for example, a bully getting himself in a situation where the bullied has complete control)

I’m rather reserved when it comes to modern day settings, but I can do those as well if there’s a lot of action and drama involved. I prefer a plot-heavy story in modern setting though.

Pairings I’d like to try: (Dom/sub)

- Warlord/prince - King or prince/prince in an arranged marriage setting - Pirate or thief/nobility - Samurai/geisha - Nobility/prostitute - Servant/nobility or royalty - Guard/nobility or royalty - Bullied/Bully - Nerd/popular student - Stepbrothers - Demon/angel - Poor guy/rich guy in an Victorian era/early 20th century setting - Mage/human (yes I have just finished rewatching all Harry Potter movies lol) - Werewolf/human - Professor/student

And many more fun things, but I can’t remember everything off the top of my head. Feel free to suggest anything, really. I’m also very much into playing femboys/crossdressing characters, though if that’s not your thing I can do other kinds of characters as well. I know it’s a concern for many with these kinds of characters, so I’ll promise my characters are never the “I-can-do-nothing-on-my-own-and-will-cry-at-the-drop-of-a-hat-and-whine-the-rest-of-the-time” blushing virgin, maiden in distress types. No need to worry about that.

I am busy a lot, so I might not always have time to reply every day or even every other day, but I try to be as active as I can. Feel free to poke me if it takes more than a week or so though.

A few plot ideas: (MC = my character, YC = your character)

1) Insipred by the TV show “Lucifer”. YC is the Devil himself, ruler of Hell, the first fallen angel. He has grown tired of the same old tortured souls and fires of damnation scenery though and decides it’s time to visit Earth for a bit. A notorious playboy, seducer to sin, the owner of one of the hottest nightclubs in town is the image he creates for himself among humans. He grants wishes in exchange to favours and soon enough everyone knows of him. MC is a struggling student, or someone who has just graduated and can’t get on in life, and as a last resort goes to see YC. YC takes an immidiate liking to him, and initial fascination quickly turns into something more… human. Love, maybe? Suddenly YC has to make a choice of whether or not he’ll reveal who he truly is to the innocent human he has fallen for.

2) Once upon a time MC and YC were lovers, young and oh, so in love. They were happy together, planning their future, until one day YC disappeared without a trace and MC never saw him again. Until 10 years later; YC has inherited a large fortune from his uncle who had no family of his own, and one lonely evening he heads to a brothel to ease his longing for company. There, much to his shock, he is reunited with MC who is a shell of what he once was. The bubbly, social human, always so full of life, has turned into someone with a haunted look in his eyes and a deep distrust for other people. Not able to leave MC there, YC buys him from the brothel and takes him home. Now he needs to decide what to do with him. (Historical setting)

3) (Omega verse, preferably mpreg included) MC is a rare kind of a shifter, an omega desired by many. He was born in a different kind of a prison: to a man who breeds only the best omegas for the royalty. He and the other omegas he lives with have never seen the outside world. They are kept safe behind locks in the innermost monastery on the castle grounds, where there’s no chance of them getting out on their own. They are given to the harems of the royal family, or occasionally bought by the wealthies of the wealthy. But MC wants more, he wants independence and a life of his own, rather than a life dedicated to fawning over an alpha with an ego big enough as it is. YC is an alpha who has made a considerable contribution to the kingdom (could be anything from being an honored soldier to being a famous artist, whatever you come up with) and who is being gifted one of these rare omegas by the royal family themselves. On his visit to the monastery to choose one of them, he takes a liking to MC, the spiteful little thing who can’t seem to know when to shut up and who won’t bat his lashes and swoon at everything YC does. It seems like MC will be getting a new home.

4) MC is a shifter (species can be discussed and decided on later) who has been separated from his pack and survived alone for a while now. He gets caught in the middle of a fight between YC’s pack and YC’s rival pack, and after - possibly accidentally - saving YC’s life he is accepted into the pack. Some time passes, YC and MC grow closer, the suspicions some had about MC fade and MC feels he’s starting to belong in a pack again, when he finds out his old pack has merged with YC’s rival pack. Now he’ll have to choose whether he is loyal to his new, or his old pack. (I would prefer this had mpreg, but again not a necessity)

5) YC is a shapeshifter, the leader of a clan of dragons. Dragons have long ago been thought extinct, but the truth is there are still some clans left. The problem is, with the dominant personalities of dragons, it’s quite difficult to find a mate or a breeding partner. YC thinks to look for the solution outside the clan, to make humans their child-bearers. He picks MC as the first test subject. (Includes Mpreg)

6) Two countries have been at war since the beginning of time, as long as anyone can remember. All boys who come of age must join the army and go to war. MC knows he could not survive the war - he’s never touched a sword in his life, never hurt anyone. He’s not physically strong nor does he have any knowledge of fighting. His family has already died because of the war, leaving him alone on a small farm. So, to avoid having to go, just before coming of age MC started disguising himself as a woman. For some years it has worked out well, he’s lived his life peacefully on his little farm, until the enemy forces take the city just outside of which MC lives. YC is a high ranking officer (or the king) who takes an interest in MC, thinking he is a woman. Now MC must figure out what to do with the peculiar situation he finds himself in.

7) (A rare futuristic plotline I’ve been dying to do since I watched Black Mirror; Nosedive) People want good ratings on their pictures, on their posts and videos - on themselves. Everyone has a technological chip inserted into their eyes when they’re born that lets them see how other people are rated. Only the “best” humans in society are rated 9 or higher overall - 5 or lower makes life Hell on Earth for a person. Anyone can rate anyone on their phones every time they interact in person. One’s rating has a tremendous impact on their lives; whether they get the job they want, whether they can apply to a certain school, even whether or not they can buy a house in a certain neighborhood… this system makes creating deep relationships nearly impossible, because people are too afraid to show who they really are in fear of being rated badly. MC is the youngest son of a well-off family, an ideal family where everyone is rated 8.9 or higher, loved by most people. YC is from a family who have never much cared about the system. They are decently rated, but they don’t seem to care - what they care about is the honestly and real human relationships that are so hard to find nowadays. When MC and YC meet, MC is intrigued, but YC thinks MC is an empty shell only after numbers just like everyone else. Eventually, feelings start to develop between the two, but there are many problems to overcome, especially in their society. That’s it for now. I’m always happy to hear any ideas you might have as well, and all the ideas above can be modified or changed up a little!

My e-mail: [email protected]

Anyway, hope to hear from you soon!!

#indie rp #indie roleplay #independent roleplay #multiple paragraph #para #long term #email #submission

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tanoraqui · 7 years

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Oh hell, I’m stuck on my main nano thing. Let’s just…remember this? Okay, continuing in that style; warning: you won’t get that much out of this if you haven’t both read LotR (or at least watched it) AND watched Critical Role.

So, our story begins on Wilhand Trickfoot’s eleventy-first birthday, which happens to be his neice Pike’s thirty-third, and thus coming-of-age. To the excitement of all of the Shire who are invited, and all those who aren’t but will show up anyway (that is, the rest) there is to be a party of “special magnificence”…

The camera may pan first, however, to a simple cart trundling up the rode to Hobbiton. The cart is simple, but the man who drives it is not: skin naturally dark with tan, hair darker yet, woven with beads of gold, and purple robes worthy of a king—if, perhaps, a little worn with travel. And the contents of the cart! Simple brown boxes, yes, but the clever hobbit children already growing in a crowd, trailing behind, know what they hide. For they recognize the mark: a runic G.

“G for Gigantic!” they whisper not-so-quietly. “G for Grand!”

“I prefer ‘Glorious’” the man calls over his shoulder, or so he seems.

“What you are,” says another hobbit, “is late.” [the movies were very good, okay.]

She stands in a tree by a bend in the road, dark hair streaked with blue, hands on her hips, a little older than those trailing behind the cart. Just on the cusp of adulthood. It is, in fact, her birthday.

“A wizard is never late, Pike Trickfoot,” the glorious driver of the cart says sternly. But he cannot hide the laughter in his eyes. “Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.”

Pike Trickfoot does not bother to hide the laughter. She leaps as it bubbles out, without a care that she might miss the headboard and hit the fireworks instead. She does not, of course.

“Gilmore! It is good to see you again. Wilhand’s been worrying you wouldn’t make it.”

The Party happens. There are wonderful fireworks, including a raging white dragon. There is dancing, and singing—in no small part from Pike’s friend and companion Mr. Scanlan Shorthalt, just a few years older than she. Deft of finger and defter of wit, Scanlan was regarded as a bit of a rogue among the more proper Shirefolk, but always popular among the “wild” youth. And all agreed he could play the shawm as fine as you please, and a dab hand at lute and panpipes to boot. (For all that, Pike is ever-immune to his attempts to woo her, halfway earnest though they are.)

Wilhand gives a brilliant speech, and disappeared. He and Gilmore discussed old adventures, and older treasures. Pike gave chase, s far as Bag End, and inherited a ring. And, you know, Bag End. All of it. It was quite a lot. Really, what’s a single piece of jewelry to an entire household?

(Lol.)

Ought I start the story again, some seventeen years later? When Pike has lived on in Bag End, in Hobbiton, with its rolling his and gentle wind nd sun; its happy, homely folk and their busy farms, rivaled only by their busy gossip…

The latest, I hear, is that Miss Sybil Cotton is with child, and will not tell whom the father is. Some wonder if she even knows. Others, who could be worth protecting. Hobbits, though overall kind, do love a good gossip.

Let’s skip some of the boring bits, shall we? Gilmore reappearing in the dead of night, slamming the doors and flinging Pike’s ring into the fire. Dark words in gold, twisted and burning. A danger. A doom. A plan.

So: preparation. Pike hints that Wilhand’s dragon gold is finally running out, and sells Bag End—dear Bag End, dear childhood home—to her cousin JB Trickfoot, who is by far the least troublesome of her less favorable relations. A timid lass, but not unkind, nor full of avarice (beyond, perhaps, for books, and a healthy, hobbitly affection for mushrooms.)

Scanlan accompanies her as far as her “new” home of Crickhollow, but here’s the thing: Scanlan is a bit of a rogue. At least, he is chronically curious, and nearly as clever as that, and always loves great tales and very rarely took no for an answer. So, that night Gilmore told Pike the legend of the One Ring? He my have been…listening. At the window. And the book Wilhand had been working on for years, the true story of his travels, which he never let anyone but Pike read? Scanlan may have…read that. Just a little. Just a glimpse! (He had to jump back out the window when he heard footsteps coming.)

Also, he does know Pike, and it is clear that she is not just preparing to move houses. She is too sad. And Pike does not get sad like a simple hobbit, with a good cry and some beer. She gets sad like an elf, wandering the hills and growing distant, almost ethereal when the light hits her just right. There has always been something odd about Pike Trickfoot.

Scanlan thinks of many things, as he lets his best friend lie to him (for a time.) He thinks of how he has always dreamed of being part of a story: a real one, an important one, far grander than the little tales and jokes he tells in the taverns each night. He thinks of how Pike, whom he does love, is going into danger surely too great for any lone hobbit, and that he would fain even the odds, however slightly. And he thinks, with some guilt, how he, Scanlan Shorthalt, is really very nervous of being in Hobbiton, or even the Shire at large, in…oh, nine months time. Eight, maybe. The longer the stay away, the safer, probably.

Eventually…

“I’m not staying here, Scanlan,” Pike says quietly. There is an urge to fidget with the ring on the chain round her neck, but she knows that is a bad idea, so she twists her fingers together instead. “I know I made a big to-do about moving here, but the truth is…”

“You’re going to Rivendell,” says Scanlan, and lifts a laden pack from among the luggage they’ve dumped on the floor. “Don’t worry, so am I.”

(Already they have hidden on the road from Black Riders, who left a chill in the air as they passed. But still Scanlan grins, if only because Pike looks like he has hit her with a croquet mallet.)

In the Forest, they are nearly buried alive by a curmudgeonly old willow, and get saved by a bizarre man who calls himself Matt Mercer, wears yellow galoshes and speaks only in song. His wife is the daughter of a ray of sunlight, with hair like flickering flames, and when he puts on the Ring he smiles and does not disappear. [Confession: when convincing people to read Lord of the Rings, I often give them permission to skip the Tom Bombadil chapters. Amazing worldbuilding, Tom and the barrow-wrights alike, but SO useless to the plot.]

Here is more sensical worldbuilding: he town of Bree is the only one in all Middle-Earth, so far as the writer(s) of this tale know, where hobbits and big men live side-by-side, with only as much strife as most neighbors have. The inn is bustling, and well-ready for folk of both sizes. Pike and Scanlan welcome the warm beds, and warmer company, as it was another dark, terrifying race to the ford. All nine Rides in pursuit, their voices fell, their dark hooves pounding and dark hands reaching, calling—something in Pike’s throat, or at least around it, calling back—

Now, the hobbits drink in peace, in the warmth of a fire and a crowded, happy inn. But a stranger sits in a dark corner, and Pike cannot help but glance their way from time to time.

“Oh, that’s a Ranger,” says the innkeeper, Laina, when Pike flags her down to ask (and for another mug of ale.) “Minxie, that one goes by. She’s alright.”

“’Alright’?” asks Pike.

“Well, they mostly keep to themselves, Rangers,” says Laina. “Strange folk. One time…”

Pike loses track of the innkeep’s anecdote, because Scanlan has clambered onto a table and begun to play songs many minutes ago. That is fine—they are trying to be incognito, but even the dark forces of the world could not stop Scanlan from preforming for an audience, and Pike loves him for it. What was not fine is that now he has started to tell tales, which mostly meant gossip—and that, with the event so recent, meant Wilhand’s mysterious disappearance at his own birthday party.

“Excuse me,” says Pike, and dashes over to vault onto the table beside him. She pitches her voice to carry. “Good folk of the Greyskull Keep! I must thank you for your hospitality! Rest assured, when I finish my book, Bree will be well-accounted for as a town most welcoming, and most bestowed—and bestowing!—with great food, and ale, and company!”

She raises her mug, toasting the now-cheering crowd.

“That said, I think it might be time my companion and I retired for night, for tomorrow will be another busy day of—”

Maybe someone jostles the table. Maybe a crowd of tipsy, sloppy cheers left too much ale for to slip on. Maybe Pike has had a mug too many herself, and has lost her usual balance.

Maybe darker forces conspire. As she falls, Pike’s hand goes to her pocket, and as she hits the floor (really a very little fall) her finger slips just so, and the world fills with fog. Voices and shapes all muffled, though they are all exclaiming.

Pike crawls frantically out of the crowd, to the nearest corner and secure table under which to hide, and yanks the Ring off her finger.

No sooner has she stowed it once more beneath her shirt, than a big man’s hand grabs her by the scruff of her shirt and yanks her up. A big woman’s actually—Pike finds herself staring up, in mute terror, at the mysterious Ranger. Her face is still in shadow, but Pike can see sharp eyes, and a sword at her belt.

“You are foolish, and not safe here even if you were wise,” says Minxie. “I will meet you in your room, and we will talk.”

#critical role #ficlet #well that was 1754 so now i'm only about 500 behind?#after midnight though #and i really do need to write the thing i mean to write #IF YOU'RE CURIOUS THE ANSWER IS YES #YES I WILL EVENTUALLY REWRITE THE ENTIRE LORD OF THE RINGS TRILOGY AS CRITICAL ROLE #my fic #lotr #monstrum lucis #patronus fabulae

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cecilspeaks · 7 years

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Ghost Stories: Bonus Tracks

You can purchase Ghost Stories here.

Transcript of the main tracks here.

16. CARLOS

The finale of my ghost story coming up.

But first. A lot of people don’t believe in ghosts, which is kinda weird, because we have an entire city full of them one town over in Pine Cliffs. But people just refuse to believe that there could be any presence of a spirit after a person dies. And I figured that there is only one way to really investigate the truth of the paranormal. And that is to ask a scientist.

So I invited my boyfriend Carlos to the radio station. Hi, Carlos!

Carlos: Hey, Cecil!

Cecil: So Carlos, what scientific evidence, if any, supports the existence of ghosts?

Carlos: Oh there is lots of valid research done on ghosts, like that famous story where Ben Franklin tied a kite to a gravestone, you know? Ghosts are 100 % scientifically real. In fact, I have a story about a project I worked on that proved that ghosts were real.

Cecil: Ooh.

Carlos: So, I was working late one night, and it was exactly midnight, OK? And there was a full moon, and I was alone in my laboratory. So context: right next door lab is a graveyard filled with former scientists who all failed to have OSHA standard eye wash stations. It’s very scary, OK?

So some of, like, the great minds of our field are buried there. Marie Curie, George Washington Carver, David Blaine, OK? But David Blaine, he comes in and he comes out, right, you got that.

But so… Back to the story, so I was pouring green bubbling liquid from one flask into a beaker full of orange steaming liquid, when I heard a noise, OK? Footsteps. [breathes heavily] I thought it was Winchell, one of my assistants, who lives in the crawl space above the lab. The footsteps were coming closer. I could hear the wind howling outside and I could see an owl on an angular branch just outside the window, it was staring back at me but... [whew] just a normal government surveillance owl!

And then the room, it grew so cold that I began to shiver. And the footsteps stopped suddenly, their sound coming from just behind me and I couldn’t look!

Cecil: Because you were frozen in fear!

Carlos: No, OK so like I said, I was pretty sure that it was just Winchell coming down the stairs..

Cecil: Oh, OK..

Carlos: Yeah so yeah, just stay with the story. So you know, thought he was getting a snack and then I was trying to finish my experiment by logging the results of what happened when I mixed the two liquids. Um ahem (quote), “the new mixture turned brownish”, I wrote in my science journal, satisfied at my productivity. But after that, I turned around to see that it wasn’t Winchell at all, it was an apparition, a hazy silvery form of a person and his hair was curly and wite, and he wore an 18th century cravat and long coat with like really ornate buttons like little flor de lis, you know, carved out it was so delightful. And anyway, he hovered a few inches off the ground and before I could say anything, the ghost opened its contorted wrinkled maw like this! [long pause, audience laughs]

Cecil: So this is the radio, Carlos.

Carlos: Then, stil making that ghastly face, he groaned. [groans] Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrr… [coughs, gasps]

Cecil: Oh.

Carlos: Anyway, he reached out his cloudy hand toward me, still moaning, and the wind outside roared, and I could hear the owl flapping quickly away. And he stepped forward and I heard the booming clop of his buckled shoe on the hardwood floor, and I jumped back and I shouted…

Cecil: Whoa Carlos, this is too scary.

Carlos: [high-pitched] No, how interesting!

Cecil: Wait, what?

Carlos: That is what I shouted, I said “how interesting!” This ghost with no real tangible form still made noise when he walked.

Cecil: Oh.

Carlos: And I asked the ghost, “how are you making that noise,” and he continued toward me still groaning. [groans] Right, ok. Still groaning and I backed away from him making notes the whole time! I had to circle backwards around the lab several times as he continued following me and I asked him more questions like, “so how did you die” and “where did you get those stunning thights, your calves look fantastic?” But he didn’t answesr. He simply maintained his slow pursuit. I ended up writing down some calculations and observations, but it was getting late so I backed on out of the lab. The ghost didn’t seem to want me to go. He wailed as I stepped out of the front and he made an even more horrible facial expression than before. Like this. [long pause, audience laughs]

Cecil: Radio.

Carlos: And while he made that facial expression, he made one final terrible sound, OK? Like this: eeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.. [gasps] I felt bad, so I told him, “I’ll be back Wednesday night, I want to learn more about you physically..”

Cecil: What?

Carlos: And then I said – oh god, no no no no. I said no no, that came out weird like I want to study your body and then I said aaah, wait wait I just mean I wanna experiment with you, you know? Agh, nevermind, I’ll see you Wednesday!

Cecil: Ohhh. That was a harrowing encounter!

Carlos: Yeah.

Cecil: So did you learn how the ghost makes sounds when he walks?

Carlos: Oh you know what, so it turns out he doesn’t.

Cecil: No.

Carlos. Yeah. That was Winchell just walking aroud the the kitchen, making a little snack. Just coincidentally exactly timed with the ghost. Also, really cool, I learned that the ghost was actually the ghost of Winchell’s like great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, visiting from early colonial Canada.

Cecil: Whoa! I’ve actually never heard of Canada. Where is that?

Carlos: I’m a scientist Cecil, not a map maker! [chuckles] It’s in Boston.

Cecil: Oh, OK. Whoa! Thank you for sharing your story, Carlos.

Carlos: Sure. You know I love it when [flirtily] science and radio overlap.

Cecil: [flirtily] I do too. [chuckles] Love you!

Carlos: Love you too.

Cecil: Thank you, Carlos.

17. DANA CARDINAL

So. Because the ghost stories competition is such an important event in our town, Night Vale’s Mayor, Dana Cardinal, has sent herself, Dana Cardinal. And she is here at the station to deliver her own press conference, so please welcome Mayor Dana Cardinal!

Hello there, Mayor Cardinal!

Dana: Hello to you, Cecil.

Cecil: Now you sent Pamela earlier to speak on your behalf.

Dana: And let me guess, she just told you this story about that rock she ate?

Cecil: Wellll…

Dana: There weren’t even any ghosts in her story, were there?

Cecil: Aaaah not explicitly, but her argument was that she we-

Dana: Cecil! Today it is I who speaks for myself. Not Pamela. Not hollow-eyed messenger children, or the City Council, or community radio, or that power all city officials have to completely take over anyone’s personality and body and use them to spread propaganda.

Cecil: Wait what, you can do that?

Dana: Today I am going to speak for myself. I want to tell a ghost story. It sounds like fun, and frankly being mayor of Night Vale is a lonely and tedious position. I could use some fun.

Cecil: Well great, let’s hear it!

Dana: [clears throat] This is a true story. Or as true as any story is, which is to say that it’s entirely made up. And it is about my great uncle Herbert. Now my great uncle Herbert owned the old mansion on the hill. You know, the one with walls continuing upright bricks meeting neatly doors sensibly shut, silence laying steadily against the wood and stone, and whatever walks there walks alone?

Cecil: Oh sure, yeah. I saw that real estate listing.

Dana: Right. Well, old Herbert died a few years back. His passing was sad, but not unexpected. Our family had long seen it coming because the day, time, and detailed description of the exact farm equipment he would be found scattered beneath were written in detail at his birth by the doctor on the birth certificate under “expiration date”. Also, he had cut off all contact many years earlier with his family, relying only on his silent glowering manservant, Sherfwood, to see to his affairs. Which is how it came to be that Sherfwood was at the door of my family’s house one morning with a message from my late great uncle. Whosoever could spend the night on the old mansion on the hill would inherit it, along with the rest of Herbert’s property.

Cecil: Whoa.

Dana: Mm hm, yeah. You know, you’d think a weirdo like that would have done something strange, like make everyone in my family uncomfortable by naming one specific person the owner and leaving the rest of us feeling left out. No, but instead he followed normal procedures for will settlement. So we all went to the old mansion on the hill and were shown to our rooms. We were nervous but excited, confident that sleeping inside a house couldn’t be that hard.

Cecil: Well, I do it almost every day.

Dana: Mm hm. But none of us made it through the night.

Cecil: Oh no! Dana, what happened?

Dana: Well it was the house. The house was full of truly hideous things, horrible things!

Cecil: Oh like monsters and ghosts?

Dana: No. Glass-topped tables!

Cecil: [gasps]

Dana: Lacker-veneered dressers.

Cecil: Ooh.

Dana: High-pile rugs. Wallpaper. Wallpaper, Cecil!

Cecil: No, eww. Just eww!

Dana: It was all so badly thought through. Everything clashed with everything else, the design was a disaster! All the cups in the kitchen were covered in a garish star design. We tried to ignore it, to grit our teeth and wait for dawn, hoping to find just a hint of Danish modern or even something made of driftwood. But even my cousin Denise, who’s a ghost, couldn’t stand it. She said that she did not want to waft transparently through any of those ecru walls.

Cecil: OK, now I am going to be sick.

Dana: Plus, what ghost wants to drift through walls anymore? Had Herbert never heard of an open concept floor plan? I mean, it provides more room for ghostly activities, like dragging chains and wailing! In the end, the only one willing to stay was Sherfwood, who had been in charge of designing the place, and so was the only one able to withstand the outdated décor.

Cecil: Ughh. Well, I don’t know if I would call that a ghost story, but at least it did have one ghost in it.

Dana: Don’t you see, Cecil? In this story, the house itself is the ghost.

Cecil: [long beat] Really?

Dana: No, that was a joke.

Cecil: Ah! Oh haha, ahahaa-hahaa, I totally get it now, that’s hilarious!

Dana: [long beat] [clears throat] You know Cecil, I love civic events like this. Serving your town, giving it every hour of your working day, can paradoxically make you distant from your town and from the people in it. You no longer are among them but over them. The dynamic shifts. I miss hanging out with you.

Cecil: Yeah, I miss hanging out with you too, Dana.

Dana: Well then let’s hang out sometime. How about anywhere but the old mansion on the hill?

Cecil: That sounds great.

Dana: OK.

Cecil: Thank you so much, Dana!

18. EARL HARLAN

So this Thursday afternoon, Night Vale’s hottest restaurant, Tourniquet, will be hosting a chefs master class, taught by executive chief LeShawn Mason and sous-chef Earl Harlan. Now, Earl has agreed to come up to the studio and talk about this educational culinary event. So please welcome Earl Harlan!

Earl: Hi Cecil! I am so excited to promote this class.

Cecil: Oh I can tell! I mean, you have your index fingers pulling back the corners of your mouth to expose your teeth.

Earl: Yeah, people say my smile really gives me away.

Cecil: Mm hmm.

Earl: Now, with so many popular cooking shows like Top Chef, The Great British Baking Show, Chopped, America’s Next Top Self-Surgeon and Who’s in the Slow Cooker?... culinary classes are in high demand. Chef Mason and I will be teaching amateur chefs some important cooking techniques. Things like knife skills, knifing skills, descaling a fish, chicken manipulation, using industrial strength lye to dissolve a corpse, how to peel an orange, and what that strange humming closet at the end of the counter is for.

Cecil: Oh yeah! Carlos and I have one of those humming closets, and when I open it up, there’s a light inside and cool air washes over me and I’m just like – what is this thing?

Earl: Well, that’s just your refrigerator, Cecil.

Cecil: Wait, that’s a refrigerator?!

Earl: What have you been using as a fridge?

Cecil: [beat] So tell us more about this master class um, Earl.

Earl: Well, Cecil, since this is the ghost story competition day, I had a ghost story I wanted to share with you, one I heard back when you and I were in the boy scouts. So I need to set the spooky campfire mood a little bit, so just hang on.

Cecil: OK. Um oh listeners, Earl is now stacking some wood on the floor, oh aand he is pouring gasoline over it…?

Earl: Oh haha no no no no, no I wouldn’t pour gasoline on your studio floor, Cecil! This is just a fancy bourbon that’s sold in five-gallon gasoline canisters.

Cecil: And listeners, he is now lighting a fire, um, [chuckling] there is a large fire in the studio, listeners!

Earl: No no, like I said it’s just bourbon! Right, here’s a stick with a marshmallow on it.

Cecil: Oh, thank you.

Earl: Here’s another one with a hot dog…

Cecil: Thank you.

Earl: And here’s another one with a live rabbit.

Cecil: Oooh! Cute and delicious! [creepy chuckle]

Earl: So the story goes, as our old scout leader Ron Veal used to tell it. one summer, a troupe of scouts went camping. They didn’t know how to use a compass yet, so they followed the North Star. But it turns out that what they thought was the North Star was just a firefly, and they were soon lost. It was getting dark. They were alone and afraid. It had been over an hour, so they had to rely on their special survival training. So they drew straws, and the scout who drew the short straw was eaten by the others.

Cecil: Uh, I never actually completed that activity, so I never got my survivalist badge.

Earl: Aww. I did.

Cecil: Oh, cool.

Earl: [clears throat] So. By early that evening, the boys had painted their faces, removed their scout uniforms, donned animal pelts, and developed their own language, government, and currency. They sharpened sticks and invented war chants. Then, just as the sun went down, they heard a voice close by. The voice called, [cheerfully] “Dinnertime, boys!” It was one of the boys’ mothers, calling from the porch of the back yard they were camping in. But they had been away from civilization for so many hours, they did not understand English anymore. Her voice was gibberish. They silenced their chants and paused building the bonfire, and the voice called again. “Enough horsing around, kids! Come inside!” Now they understood her welcoming gesture, so they went inside and they had dinner. The voice called out again, this time from across the dining room table. “Where’s Richie?” But they said nothing. They only ate the food ravenously with their bare hands. “Do you boys know where Richie went?” the voice called again, the boys’ eyes darting guiltily to one another. [high-pitched] “Richieee!” came the voice one final time, but the scouts only shifted in their chairs, pretending not to understand her refined, civilized rhetoric.

[creepy voice] To this day, it is said that if you stand in a backyard at dusk, you can hear the sound of wind rustling through trees, and birds chirping, and you can watch the bright dot in the sky turn orange and sink into the horizon.

Cecil: So that must be the ghost of Richie, right?

Earl: No, that’s just the wind and the birds and a sunset.

Cecil: Oh?

Earl: [creepy voice] But Richie’s ghost did rejoin the troupe later that night, and they all played board games.

Cecil: Ooh.

Earl: He got his apparition badge, and all of the other boys eventually got theirs, too!

Cecil: Oh wow! Gosh, it just feels like centuries since we were boy scouts together!

Earl: Yeah that’s because it has been, Cecil. How have we lived so long? And forgotten so much?

Cecil: [long silence]

These last lines are in the next track for some reason.

Cecil: Well, thank you so much coming on Earl.

Earl: You bet.

19. INTERN JEFFREY CRANOR

I’ve asked my station intern, Felix, to prepare a ghost story of his very own. You see, Felix has been such a hard worker with a great attitude, and I wanted to reward him with some practical broadcasting experience. So Felix, come on over to the microphone, and tell Night Vale your story!

…You’re not Felix.

Intern Jeffrey Cranor: No, Felix couldn’t… [sighs] [softly] make it.

Cecil: So who are you?

IJC: Oh I’m your new intern, I’m Jeffrey Cranor.

Cecil: Oh, intern. Intern Jeffrey, alright um, hey what happened to Felix?

IJC: It’s difficult to say.

Cecil: Aww. Because you don’t know what happened?

IJC: No I know, it’s just emotionally difficult to say it out loud. You know the fridge in the break room?

Cecil: Yes.

IJC: And you know how it makes that mechanical grinding noise whenever you open it, that krrrrr?

Cecil: Oh, yeah yeah.

IJC: Well it stopped making that noise. But you know how blood pours of it now when you open it?

Cecil: No?

IJC: Oh oh oh, heh, well okay let me back up then. You know how near the break room there’s that hole in the wall? Cecil: Oh yeah, I’ve been asking operations to fix that for weeks now.

IJC: Right and you know how that hole is like three feet wide and these weird noises and shouts can be heard from it? and you know how Felix was always talking to those voices?

Cecil: Oh yeah, like all the time!

IJC: Right, like (blablabla).. So you know how when you die, your soul drifts through all of time mostly simultaneously, it’s not really as a ghost although some people manifest as such, but most of us fill the void with our decimated consciousness, all of the pain of life melts away as we pass into the beyond, and the sweet relief is immediately replaced by the crushing pain of knowledge, of eternity and the vastness of a universe that has no fences and no borders, but in death we can see what lies beyond, and you know how it is awful and beautiful and inspiring and ultimately boring because of the whole forever thing, you know?

Cecil: I mean, I’ve never died.

IJC: [laughs] OK, Cecil. Anyway. You know the hunger, the hunger we feel during mortality? You know, that insatiable urge to fill our temporary bodies with comfort, sustenance, something to momentarily destruct us from the immense pain of it all, yada yada yada? Felix had that hunger. He had that hunger, and he went to the fridge in the break room. Because he remembered the potato salad he brought to work last December but didn’t finish. And the fridge made that noise, that krrrrrr! Felix went to open the door but that was, he had forgotten what the voice in the hole in the wall had just been telling him, and that was unfortunate because it turns out that that voice in the hole in the wall was him, it was Felix’s immortal soul across all of time attempting to warn Felix that there was an active jet engine from an Airbus 8320 inside the fridge door. Which Amy in sales left there yesterday after lunch. Krrrrrrrrrrrshhhhhhhhhhup! [long beat] I mean. And Felix was just… [sighs] Um, HR made Amy take the jet engine home but the – oh man, the insides of that fridge is still covered in uh… memories of Felix.

Cecil: [whispers] That’s terrible! Well… [normal voice] To the family of intern Felix… He was a really good intern.

IJC: He was.

Cecil: And he will be missed.

IJC: Yeeeah, I guess. I mean, he’s still in the wall over there, you can go talk to him through that hole right over there.

Cecil: Oh, well that’s good, well could you ask him to finish up his filing by the end of the day please?

IJC: [chuckles]You got it, boss!

Cecil: Alright. Oh hey, Jeffrey Jeffrey Jeffrey. You seem to know like a lot about the afterlife. Are you – dead? I mean I mean I mean are you – like a ghost?

IJC: Oh.. It’s um, difficult to say.

Cecil: Oh, because you you don’t wanna talk about it?

IJC: No it’s just difficult because I’m eating this peanut butter stuffed pretzel. [chews]

Cecil: OK.

IJC: [mumbles through chewing]

Cecil: Oh.

IJC: [chews for a long time] But no, I’m not.

Cecil: Alright, well welcome to the station!

IJC: Thanks boss!

Cecil: Alright, thank you Jeffrey!

20. LOUIE BLASKO

Cecil: It is time for one of our favorite segments: Louie Blasko’s music moment!

Louie Blasko: No.

Cecil: No?

LB: No I don’t wanna do music, I’m trying to get out of the whole… music thing. I, I’d like to tell a ghost story.

Cecil: But but you’ve got a ukulele and a music stand?

LB: I don’t think so.

Cecil: OK. So listeners, it is now time for Louie Blasko’s – ghost story moment!

LB: Thank you Cecil. Now my horror story is about a haunted locker room at Night Vale High.

Cecil: Mm.

LB: Now there have always been strange sounds heard in there, you know footsteps, the cawing of crows. Distant warped voices singing the Night Vale High fight song.

Cecil: Wait wait wait, Night Vale High has a fight song?

LB: Oh yeah, you know, it’s that song they sing before every football game to remind us that no matter who wins, everyone involved will eventually perish.

Cecil: It’s not really ringing a bell.

LB: No no no, it’s uh, [tone-deaf] “You didn’t have to do that to him, uh he had nothing to do with any of this…”?

Cecil: No…

LB: You know it’s like uh, “I-I was gonna get you the money, I just needed like” um…

Cecil: I dunno, maybe, I…

LB: OK OK. W-w- uh [clears throat]. [plays ukulele, sings] “When doing business with spiideers, I advice that you always honor your debts. I have it on the very good authority of the most reliable insiiiider, that though they seem harmless, even dare I say kind, on the day of the deal when the contract is signed, and though, [out of breath] I cannot stress enough that you must bear in mind that they do not forgive and they will not forget…

[high-pitched] “Ooo-ooo, ooo-oooo, o-o-o-a ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-oo…

[speaks] And you can tell yourself: What have I possibly got to lose? But even a humble music teacher, who has never known the warm breath of love, whose cold heart has no room in it for friendship, companionship, partnership or any manner of ship whatsoever. They will find, who long ago traded his soul for a can of trombone grease, and a very rare limited edition Chet Baker LP. No, even a man such as this is not immune, for somehow they know [whispers] the architecture of his heart even better than he knows it himself. And they will find that one thing or person that he cherishes above all else in this world, that single creature whose presence gives him just a little rush of joy. We’ll use just for example, [sings] a boy.

[talks] A pudgy, awkward little boy. We’ll just call him Harold. Ignored and abused by his schoolmates, spectacularly unmemorable in almost every respect. But with a certain promise on the clarinet and not without a charming – lack of fashion sense.

[high-pitched] Oooo-ooo, ooo-oo-oo, o-o-o-o-a-oooo-ooo-oooo. [yells] Everybody! [Cecil and audience chime in] Ooo-ooo, o-o-o-a- ooo-oo-ooo…

[yells] They act with speed, great precision, and professional care. Leaving just a small smudge of blood and a little bit of hair. And an endlessly echoing scream through the halls! [speaks] As if to intimate that his horrible suffering has still not ended yet, [screams] at aaaall!

[speaks] And I know that the terms of the contract were abundantly [high-pitched] cleeear! The language concise, and the interest rates [falsetto] faaaaiiiir! But as much as one pleads and as much as one begs, to their eight empty eyes and their long furry legs… [quietly] He wasn’t coming back. He really isn’t coming back. Ooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhh…

[yells] You didn’t have to do that to him! He had nothing to do with any of this! I was going to get you the money, I told you that! Ooooooo-oooo, oooo-oo-o-ooo…

Four, three, two, one! [Cecil joins in] Night Vale High is number one! Zero, negative one, negative two, if we go down then so will you!!”

LB: [yells] I’m so sorry, Harold! I am so so sorry!

Cecil: OK, yes, I do remember that song now. Great, great. So OK, um, let’s get on with the story then.

LB: What? Oh oh oh oh yeah uh, that was the story. Uh, Night Vale High’s locker room, it’s haunted. Uh.. the end?

Cecil: OK.

LB: Well, thanks for having me. Oh and if anyone wants to learn the basics of bluegrass, just head down to the burned down site where Louie’s Music Shop used to sit, and just hang out there in the ruins til it gets dark. And then, wait until you are taken gently by the hand. And then, bluegrass lessons! Or something else - will happen.

Cecil: Thank you, Louie!

21. MELONY PENNINGTON

So listeners, I have to admit something. Um, I had some computer difficulties earlier and I had to call technology support. And actually I was pleasantly surprised when Night Vale’s top computer programmer and creator of the local numbers station, WZZZ, showed up to fix my computer. So please welcome Melony Pennington!

Melony, welcome to the radio station!

Melony Pennington: I’m in a radio station? You just said that. I mean, you say a lot of things. How many things do you say that you mean? How many things do you mean to say? What are some mean things you’ve said? Maybe radio station is a joke. Like maybe it’s your house, and you’ve just left some headphones and microphones lying around and you’re like, this is totally my radio station. L.O.L!

Cecil: Well I never joke when it comes to the radio.

MP: I didn’t catch your name. Did you know saying LOL out loud takes just as long as saying the words they stand for? Loss Of Lungs.

Cecil: Oh.

MP: But somehow it feels shorter saying the initials, LOL.

Cecil: You’ve such an active mind, Melony! Oh, thank you by the way for helping me with my computer earlier. Um, I’m so embarrassed that the problem turned out to be, it wasn’t even plugged into the wall.

MP: You would be surprised at how often tht happens, even with computer professionals. Just the other day, I was trying to debug the software the City Council uses to control earthquakes. I brought my laptop, like usual, but then I realized I completely forgot to bring a basic (-) [0:01:41] Ethernet cable to plug into the network. Thankfully, it turns out the device that controls earthquakes wasn’t even running Windows (-X). It’s a glowing red gem inside the hollowed-out skull of some land mammal. Horse, I guess? So I didn’t even need cables, those things run on wi-fi. And you can connect to any wi-fi network with chanting and a little blood.

Cecil: Wow!

MP: Got that software all patched up.

Cecil: Wow! It’s hard to believe that we can control earthquakes with a glowing red gem!

MP: Oh, you can control anything with one of those. I have one that I use to make birds attack my enemies.

Cecil: Oh.

MP: Yeah. I also have it set to move the stars around into coded messages, plus it runs Bluetooth audio from my record player. They’re really handy! [chuckles] I’m tired of talking about that subject. I have a ghost story for the ghost story contest. I’m going to tell it now.

Cecil: Oh excellent, I would love to hear it!

MP: OK, so I got a brand new computer. It was night and I was home alone, or I thought I was alone. When I turned the computer on, the blinking cursor on the screen started moving, without me touching the keys. The cursor began typing out a message. “Help,” the screen said. “I have been murdered and my killer programmed me into this computer.” “Oh, like a literal ghost in the machine!” I exclaimed. Then, there was a long, long silence. I watched the cursor closely, but it just blinked in place. Just when I thought I couldn’t wait any longer, it moved again and began to write out a message.

Cecil: What did it say?

MP: It wrote, “you have to type it out for me to know what you’re saying. I can’t hear you speak.”

Cecil: Mm hm.

MP: So I wrote back, and he told me he used to work in a computer factory, which is how he ended up inside this computer, and that his killer is an evil supergenius programmer.

Cecil: Whoa, whoa, but if the ghost was a computer program that the killer wrote, then the KILLER must have been the one sending the messages. [very fast] Oh my gosh this is so exciting, a cat and mouse chase between two brilliant programmers, so you must have had to decipher clues from the program but then had to consider whether the killer was one step ahead of you, and how do you determine the truth, how do you know what’s important and what’s a red herring, oh my gosh I live murder mysteries so much! What happened next Melony, what happened?

MP: Oh, I formatted the drive.

Cecil: [disappointed] Oh.

MP: [chuckles] It was a new computer, and these box store manufacturers preprogram so much bulky chunk on there. Do I need a cloud-based calendar solution and a pinball game and the ghost victim of an evil programmer? No I don’t. So I formatted and installed my own operating system.

Cecil: Wow, that was pretty easy then.

MP: Mm hm. I’ve got a load of memory now for gaming though. [excited] Hey, hey look, the birds are gathering! Oh I think something cool is about to go down. I should go.

Cecil: Well bye Melony.

MP: Bye, whoever you are. Nice house.

Cecil: Oh, thank you. Thank you, Melony.

22. MICHELLE NGUYEN

A quick update on next Saturday’s open mic night at Dark Owl Records. For more on that, let’s talk with Dark Owl owner, Michelle Nguyen!

Michelle, thanks for coming in.

Michelle Nguyen: Thanks, Cecil. This is Dark Owl Records’ first ever open mic night. We are encouraging everyone in Night Vale who has a song to sing, a standup comedy set, or a thing on their back they want a doctor to look at to come down to Dark Owl Records.

Cecil: OK, so attendees will sign up for a slot to get up on stage, sing their song, do their comedy, or get their back looked at.

MN: Oh, god no. I don’t wanna hear any of that. An open mic isn’t an invitation to just walk up it and start yammering like you’re a real artist. Eww. No.

Cecil: Oh.

MN: An open mic is a live microphone and an empty stage at the front of the room. Attendees will sit quietly and stare at it.

Cecil: But you said that people who have a song, a comedy set, or a diagnosis needed should come.

MN: Of course. I only want people who think of themselves as performers to come. But I want them to pay attention to the only real true performing art. Silence and nothingness. If we were to just stop all of that for a moment and listen to that silence, we would understand what art is. A void.

Cecil: Oh. That’s actually quite beautiful.

MN: Oh no, it is.

Cecil: Yeah. I mean this sounds like a lovely event and inviting and welcoming night for everyone to experience art together. So thank you for sharing your space with Night Vale.

MN: On second thought, I’d rather just hear people read their awful poems and struggle through another (Churches) cover. Everyone come on down to open mic night next Saturday and kill us all slowly with your desperate need for attention.

Cecil: OK! Oh, while you’re here, do you have a ghost story you wanna share?

MN: Yes. I was making myself a mix tape one night. I recorded myself chewing on some tin foil, as well as the sounds of distant coyotes. Coyotes are dope. Also I was wearing a leather wristband, knee-high red socks, and armored chest plate because – it was fashion week.

Cecil: Ah! Mm, I wore my new antlers and rubber hip waiters because it was fashion week. [chuckles]

MN: Antlers and hip waiters? Was it fashion week 2008?

Cecil: [long beat] [through clenched teeth] Go on with your story, Michelle.

MN: So when I played the tape later, it wasn’t what I recorded at all. What I heard was not the chewing or the coyote howls. It was something much much worse. What I heard chilled me to my bones.

Cecil: What was it?

MN: It was a hiss, like a single unbroken breath. A gentle… shhhhhhhh, for like 30 minutes on both sides of the tape. I wept from fright. I was terrified, I couldn’t turn it off! Shhhhhhh.. It must be a curse, a haunted sound that once heard cause you to die exactly one year later. Now that I think about it, that would be pretty exciting. No one in the music industry is doing anything like that anymore. I mean, Madonna popularized audio death curses in the 80’s, but that was like 30 years ago, so it’s like it never happened.

Cecil: OK Michelle, that shhhh sound across both sides of the tape, I’m pretty sure that the recording just failed, and you were listening to a blank cassette. So you’re not gonna die in a year.

MN: [long beat] [sadly] Oh.

Cecil: Are you OK?

MN: [sadly] Nothing fun ever happens to me.

Cecil: Oh well, well that’s not true! I mean, you have a great record store, you have good friends, and you host fantastic events. You’re an important part of our town, Michelle!

MN: [softly] Thanks Cecil. That means a lot. [angrily] I guess!

Cecil: Oh OK, well I’ll see you soon.

MN: [angrily] Don’t tell anyone I accepted your compliment!

Cecil: Alright, I won’t, I won’t. Thank you Michelle! [long beat] She likes me.

23. SHERIFF SAM #1

Oh but first, listeners, my red phone is ringing. And that means it’s time to pick up the beige phone and hear which of the six other ringing phones I should be picking up, so let’s see here. Orange. Oh, that means it’s the sheriff, oh – standing right next to me in the studio!

Sheriff Sam: It is a simple system.

Cecil: Oh, hello Sheriff Sam! You know, you could always just knock and say hello.

SS: But we already spent the money on this coded phone stuff. The taxpayers deserve to get what they paid for, even if it makes everyone’s lives harder. That’s democracy. Or maybe it isn’t. I don’t know or care what democracy is.

Cecil: So how has this day of ghost stories gone for you, Sam?

SS: Look, I want to tell a ghost story but uh, I’ll be honest Cecil..

Cecil: Please.

SS: I’m afraid.

Cecil: You’re afraid of ghosts?

SS: Of ghosts? Well of course. But also – pine trees. They’re just so tall and pointy, you know? And I’m also afraid of the tiny scampering feet of mice I can hear in the ceiling running back and forth, and in addition, I’m afraid that while I sleep an earthquake will happen, or a flood, or a sunspot. I’m afraid of the night time because I can’t see anything and – I’m afraid of the daytime because I can see everything.

Cecil: Oh.

SS: I’m afraid of action and interaction. I’m afraid of contradictions, I’m afraid of food poisoning. But do you know what I’m really afraid of? San dunes, terrible things, like indecisive mountains. Are you a hill or a heap? Make up your mind, sand dune! And I’m afraid of being afraid. I’m afraid that if I’m afraid for too long, then that’s all there will be to me.

Cecil: Well, maybe it’s time you faced your fears.

SS: Ooh... No. I’m quite afraid of faces. The only person I’m not afraid of is the Faceless Old Woman who Secretly Lives in My Home. Or I wouldn’t be, except that I’m also afraid of the elderly.

Cecil: Now I gotta say this doesn’t seem like you, I mean you’re always so authoritative and shouty.

SS: Well what I seem like and what I am is not the same! [chuckling] Except I am very shouty. I mean not now obviously but then [shouts] suddenly, at any moment I am shouting and I cannot hear my fears!

Cecil: Aww, there’s the sheriff I know.

SS: But then I’m not shouting and I’m afraid again. Cecil, one day I will look you right in the eye, and I will tell you a ghost story. I promise you that.

Cecil: Well great!

SS: Until then, Cecil – uh oh, it appears your silver phone is ringing, and you know what that means.

Cecil: Uhh, actually I don’t. What does the silver phone mean? Oh.. Now they’re gone. Now I’m gonna be worried about this.

24. SHERIFF SAM #2 This is the same story told by Dana above

Oh, listeners, it appears that Sheraiff Sam has something to add to their previous statement as… they are currently breaking down my door with a battering ram and have thrown several smoke canisters into the room. [coughs] Sheriff, what is this emergency?

SS: Cecil, I’m ready. Even though I’m still afraid, I want to tell a ghost story of my own. It’s my legal right, says so in the law. Don’t try to censor me.

Cecil: I won’t. You know, you could have just asked, I mean you don’t need to break down the door.

SS: Oh no, the door broke itself.

Cecil: Oh.

SS: We were trying to stop it. Anyway. This is a true story. Or as true as any other story is, which is to say that it is entirely made up. And it’s about my great uncle Herbert. Now, my great uncle Herbert owned the old mansion on the hill. You know, the one with walls continuing upright, bricks meeting neatly, doors sensibly shut, silence laying steadily against the wood and stone, and whatever walks there walks alone?

Cecil: Yeah, sure. I saw that real estate listing.

SS: Right. Well, old Herbert died a few years back. His passing was sad, but not unexpected. Our family had long seen it coming because the day, time, and detailed description of the exact farm equipment he would be found scattered beneath were written in detail at his birth by the doctor on the birth certificate under “expiration date”. Also, he had cut off all contact many years earlier with his family, relying only on his silent glowering manservant, Sherfwood, to see to his affairs. Which is how it came to be that Sherfwood was at the door of my family’s house one morning with a message from my late great uncle. Whosoever could spend the night on the old mansion on the hill would inherit it, along with the rest of Herbert’s property.

Cecil: Oo, wow.

SS: Yes. You know, you’d think a weirdo like that would have done something strange, like make everyone in my family uncomfortable by naming one specific person the owner and leaving the rest of us feeling left out. But instead he followed normal procedures for a state settlement. We all went to the old mansion on the hill and were shown to our rooms. We were nervous but excited, confident that sleeping inside a house couldn’t be that hard.

Cecil: I mean, I do it almost every day.

SS: But none of us made it through the night.

Cecil: Oh no! Sheriff, what happened?

SS: It was the house. [sighs] The house was full of truly hideous things, horrible things!

Cecil: Monsters, ghosts?

SS: No. Glass-topped tables!

Cecil: [gasps]

SS: Lacker-veneered dressers.

Cecil: Ohh.

SS: High-pile rugs. Wallpaper. Wallpaper, Cecil!

Cecil: Oh god!

SS: It was all so badly thought through. Everything clashed with everything else, the design was a disaster! All the cups in the kitchen were covered in a garish star design. We tried to ignore it, to grit our teeth and wait for dawn, hoping to find just a hint of Danish modern or something made of driftwood. But even my cousin Denise, who’s a ghost, couldn’t stand it. She said she did not want to waft transparently through any of those ecru walls.

Cecil: Oh god, ecru? I’m gonna be sick!

SS: In the end, the only one willing to stay was Sherfwood, who had been in charge of designing the place, and so was the only one able to withstand the outdated décor.

Cecil: Ughh. Well, I don’t know if I would call that a ghost story, but at least it did have a ghost in it.

SS: But I told it, didn’t I? I’m proud of myself. Thank you. But uh, but I am sorry about your door, heh. I’m sorry about a lot of things. I find that scaring someone else does help alleviate my own fears, so I had to break down your door, I’m sorry.

Cecil: That’s OK, Sheriff. You know, a true apology is changing how you act in the future.

SS: Mmm.. that sounds difficult. I-I’m not sorry enough for that. I said some words and that should make up for anything I’ve ever done or ever will do. Until next time, Cecil!

Cecil: Alright, until next time She- oh, and… [long beat] And they broke my window on their way out. [sighs]

#welcome to night vale #wtnv transcripts #live shows #ghost stories #sorry it took me a few days #but i was really swamped at work

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thevideogamestudies-blog · 5 years

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My Top 6 RPGS

I have redone this list over and over again, who knew writing about my favorite RPGs would be the hardest? After a few days of thinking, erasing, adding, and erasing again, I have finally came up with my top 6 RPGs - but honestly it will probably change in a week.

Number Six: Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines

This one you probably predicted if you have read my previous blog entries, but some may be surprised about how low it is on the list. I love Bloodlines, I do, but because of the fact that most players need to download a fan-made patch just to be able to play is what killed it’s chances of being anywhere higher on the list.

Synopsis: Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines is an RPG that takes place in modern Los Angeles and you play a character who has recently turned into a vampire - shocker - in the character creation you choose the vampire clan you want to be a part of, as well as their starting stats. The game revolves around following or disobeying the Masquerade, which is just a fancy word for vampire laws, that keep humans oblivious to all the vampires’ existence. The main plot centers around the arrival of a sarcophagus that is rumored to contain the remains of an old and powerful vampire - and without going into too much detail - there is some vampire politics because of this as well.

Number Five: Dragon Age Origins

Another game I have spoken about on my blog before! Dragon Age: Origins is fantastic and filled with great characters, humor, and story that can leave you playing for hours upon hours. My only issue with the game, and this is entirely my own opinion, is that I was not a big fan of how the combat worked. Mainly, because this was my first experience with this kind of combat, and it just is not my cup of tea. Oh, and that awful weird maze quest in the Circle that takes a million frustrating hours to complete - and I know I am not alone on this. Every time I feel like replaying I remember that maze and decide “you know what, maybe another time”.

Synopsis: Dragon Age: Origins takes place in fictional Ferelden during the 5th blight, “a period when darkspawn find and corrupt one of the Old Gods, which is transformed into an Archdemon and leads the horde to attack the surface world,” (Dragon Age Wiki). Your character is recruited by the Grey Wardens, guardians trained to kill darkspawn. After an attack on the Grey Wardens, the main character and his/her allies, Alistair, a Grey Warden, and Morrigan, an apostate mage, are searching for an army to help defeat the Archdemon and end the blight.

Number Four: Dragon Age Inquisition

I love this installment in the Dragon Age series for all the same reasons as the first one, great characters, great story, and as always great humor. I love this one more so than the last because of it’s more familiar combat system, and how easily customizable the story can be - let me explain. For this one, Bioware gave us an easy way to control the past resulting in each playthrough of Inquisition being unique. (warning: Origin spoilers) For example, I can decide if Alistar becomes King, stays a Grey Warden...or becomes a lonely miserable drunk if I wanted. Every single decision you made in Origins, Awakening, and the second installment seems to affect Inquisition, and I love that. But, I’ll be honest, it's mostly because I can see Alistar and Hawke again.

Number Three: Witcher 3 Wild Hunt

Ah, the game that is on everybody’s favorites list! This game fulfills my love of Medieval Europe, monsters (especially vampires), sorcerers, and lots and lots of side quests and playtime hours.

Synopsis: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt is set in the Continent, a medieval Europe inspired world but humans, sorcerers, and monsters live amongst each other, during a war between the Nilfgaardians and the Redanians. The player controls the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia, a mutant-like monster hunter in search of finding his adopted-daughter Ciri, who is running from the Wild Hunt.

Number Two: Stardew Valley

I absolutely adore Stardew Valley! I find myself spending hours playing this game. The relaxing music and atmosphere is nice for relaxing on the weekends.

Synopsis: In Stardew Valley, your customized character starts off in a job he or she hates, realizing he or she is unhappy they open their letter from their Grandpa who died a few years earlier. Your character has inherited their Grandpa’s old farm, old tools, and some coin. Your character decides to pack it up and leave to start over and live a new life. You find the farm is completely overgrown, but with the help from friends you meet along the way, you can transform the old farm into something you have always dreamed of. In Stardew Valley there is people to romance, mines to explore, monsters to slay, fish to catch, etc. The town is full of lovable characters, yes, even the ones who seem unpleasant you will come to love once you start unlocking their backstories.

Number One: Fable 2

If you know anything about me, this pick is not a surprise. I have replayed this game far too many times since it’s initial release in 2008. I have many fond memories of playing this with my uncle and siblings over the years.

#college assignment

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fyrapartnersearch · 5 years

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Looking for long-term M/M roleplays

Hey! I’m Kat, and looking for some more roleplays. I’m in my early twenties, so no worries there, and I’m in the GMT+3 time-zone, though I tend to be up at odd hours and I’m often online. I mainly want to roleplay M/M right now. I tend to write multi-para and more often than not my replies are 700+ words. I don’t mind shorter replies, as long as I get at least a few good sized paragraphs and correct spelling/grammar. Mistakes happen and that’s fine, but I don’t want to read something with no punctuation and that’s nothing but mistakes. Also please read this whole thing before sending me a message!! I ask you don't just send "wanna RP?", because I won't know unless you tell me something you had in mind: a plot, an idea of mine you liked, anything really. As for smut, I adore it. I don’t want to write only smut for now, but anything from 20/80 to 80/20 on plot/smut ratio is good for me. Just tell me if you want more plot or smut. In M/M smut I prefer playing a submissive/bottom character. I can play a dominant character, but I don't enjoy it so I wish you'll be willing to play an exclusively dominant role. What I like: - Medieval/historical settings (especially ancient Egypt/Rome/Greece) - Forbidden love - Arranged marriage - Lots and lots of drama and dark themes - But also fluffy scenes and cute/happy moments - Mpreg (not a must at all, if you’re not into it) - Supernatural beings (werewolves, vampires, demons, gods etc.) - Omega verse - Role reversal (such as, for example, a bully getting himself in a situation where the bullied has complete control) I'm rather reserved when it comes to modern day settings, but I can do those as well if there's a lot of action and drama involved. I prefer a plot-heavy story in modern setting though. Pairings I'd like to try: (Dom/sub) - Warlord/prince - King or prince/prince in an arranged marriage setting - Pirate or thief/nobility - Samurai/geisha - Nobility/prostitute - Servant/nobility or royalty - Guard/nobility or royalty - Bullied/Bully - Nerd/popular student - Stepbrothers - Demon/angel - Poor guy/rich guy in an Victorian era/early 20th century setting - Mage/human (yes I have just finished rewatching all Harry Potter movies lol) - Werewolf/human - Professor/student And many more fun things, but I can't remember everything off the top of my head. Feel free to suggest anything, really. I'm also very much into playing femboys/crossdressing characters, though if that's not your thing I can do other kinds of characters as well. I know it's a concern for many with these kinds of characters, so I'll promise my characters are never the "I-can-do-nothing-on-my-own-and-will-cry-at-the-drop-of-a-hat-and-whine-the-rest-of-the-time" blushing virgin, maiden in distress types. No need to worry about that. I am busy a lot, so I might not always have time to reply every day or even every other day, but I try to be as active as I can. Feel free to poke me if it takes more than a week or so though. A few plot ideas: (MC = my character, YC = your character) 1) Insipred by the TV show "Lucifer". YC is the Devil himself, ruler of Hell, the first fallen angel. He has grown tired of the same old tortured souls and fires of damnation scenery though and decides it's time to visit Earth for a bit. A notorious playboy, seducer to sin, the owner of one of the hottest nightclubs in town is the image he creates for himself among humans. He grants wishes in exchange to favours and soon enough everyone knows of him. MC is a struggling student, or someone who has just graduated and can't get on in life, and as a last resort goes to see YC. YC takes an immidiate liking to him, and initial fascination quickly turns into something more... human. Love, maybe? Suddenly YC has to make a choice of whether or not he'll reveal who he truly is to the innocent human he has fallen for. 2) Once upon a time MC and YC were lovers, young and oh, so in love. They were happy together, planning their future, until one day YC disappeared without a trace and MC never saw him again. Until 10 years later; YC has inherited a large fortune from his uncle who had no family of his own, and one lonely evening he heads to a brothel to ease his longing for company. There, much to his shock, he is reunited with MC who is a shell of what he once was. The bubbly, social human, always so full of life, has turned into someone with a haunted look in his eyes and a deep distrust for other people. Not able to leave MC there, YC buys him from the brothel and takes him home. Now he needs to decide what to do with him. (Historical setting) 3) (Omega verse, preferably mpreg included) MC is a rare kind of a shifter, an omega desired by many. He was born in a different kind of a prison: to a man who breeds only the best omegas for the royalty. He and the other omegas he lives with have never seen the outside world. They are kept safe behind locks in the innermost monastery on the castle grounds, where there's no chance of them getting out on their own. They are given to the harems of the royal family, or occasionally bought by the wealthies of the wealthy. But MC wants more, he wants independence and a life of his own, rather than a life dedicated to fawning over an alpha with an ego big enough as it is. YC is an alpha who has made a considerable contribution to the kingdom (could be anything from being an honored soldier to being a famous artist, whatever you come up with) and who is being gifted one of these rare omegas by the royal family themselves. On his visit to the monastery to choose one of them, he takes a liking to MC, the spiteful little thing who can't seem to know when to shut up and who won't bat his lashes and swoon at everything YC does. It seems like MC will be getting a new home. 4) MC is a shifter (species can be discussed and decided on later) who has been separated from his pack and survived alone for a while now. He gets caught in the middle of a fight between YC's pack and YC's rival pack, and after - possibly accidentally - saving YC's life he is accepted into the pack. Some time passes, YC and MC grow closer, the suspicions some had about MC fade and MC feels he's starting to belong in a pack again, when he finds out his old pack has merged with YC's rival pack. Now he'll have to choose whether he is loyal to his new, or his old pack. (I would prefer this had mpreg, but again not a necessity) 5) YC is a shapeshifter, the leader of a clan of dragons. Dragons have long ago been thought extinct, but the truth is there are still some clans left. The problem is, with the dominant personalities of dragons, it’s quite difficult to find a mate or a breeding partner. YC thinks to look for the solution outside the clan, to make humans their child-bearers. He picks MC as the first test subject. (Includes Mpreg) 6) Two countries have been at war since the beginning of time, as long as anyone can remember. All boys who come of age must join the army and go to war. MC knows he could not survive the war - he's never touched a sword in his life, never hurt anyone. He's not physically strong nor does he have any knowledge of fighting. His family has already died because of the war, leaving him alone on a small farm. So, to avoid having to go, just before coming of age MC started disguising himself as a woman. For some years it has worked out well, he's lived his life peacefully on his little farm, until the enemy forces take the city just outside of which MC lives. YC is a high ranking officer (or the king) who takes an interest in MC, thinking he is a woman. Now MC must figure out what to do with the peculiar situation he finds himself in. 7) (A rare futuristic plotline I've been dying to do since I watched Black Mirror; Nosedive) People want good ratings on their pictures, on their posts and videos - on themselves. Everyone has a technological chip inserted into their eyes when they're born that lets them see how other people are rated. Only the "best" humans in society are rated 9 or higher overall - 5 or lower makes life Hell on Earth for a person. Anyone can rate anyone on their phones every time they interact in person. One's rating has a tremendous impact on their lives; whether they get the job they want, whether they can apply to a certain school, even whether or not they can buy a house in a certain neighborhood... this system makes creating deep relationships nearly impossible, because people are too afraid to show who they really are in fear of being rated badly. MC is the youngest son of a well-off family, an ideal family where everyone is rated 8.9 or higher, loved by most people. YC is from a family who have never much cared about the system. They are decently rated, but they don't seem to care - what they care about is the honestly and real human relationships that are so hard to find nowadays. When MC and YC meet, MC is intrigued, but YC thinks MC is an empty shell only after numbers just like everyone else. Eventually, feelings start to develop between the two, but there are many problems to overcome, especially in their society. That's it for now. I'm always happy to hear any ideas you might have as well, and all the ideas above can be modified or changed up a little! My e-mail: [email protected] Anyway, hope to hear from you soon!!

#indie rp #indie roleplay #independent roleplay #oc rp #multiple paragraph #para #long term #email #submission

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