#Anthology of Affection

[have-you-read-this-short-fiction]

#short story collections #short story collection #monstrous affections: an anthology of beastly tales #kelly link #gavin j grant #gavin j. grant #various authors #english language literature #american literature #british literature #have you read this short fiction? #book polls #completed polls

[puppyeared]

what if i snapped and made an oc carrd

#i mean.... i could #this isnt the first time ive thought of doing it but i drop ocs so easily its not even funny. so idk if itd be worth it #id consider toyhouse or smth but i dont have money lol. right now everythings on artfight but thats more for drawing purposes #what ocs would i even talk abt... i have some standalones like auggie and ocs i think look cool but dont plan on using #but some others have their own stories.. not like a huge thought out plot but something i pick up and twirl around in my head #like luckys whole deal is being a hiking guide who accidentally gets tied up with some werewolves pretending to be a hiking group to eat pp #and then i have the magician rivals. although i kinda wanna tie theirs with the nightguard and thief story ive been cooking. maybe in the #same universe? it would be pretty funny if they lived in the same apartment complex since a couple stories i have in mind revolve around th #its like some sort of omnibus or anthology to me. kicks my feet #and then fan characters like xin ya and sleight who i want to have their own expanded lore and stuff. i think that would be cool #im making crow a powerpoint of xins updated lore but the assignmence are making it hard. hopefully it turns out good though #i have a hard time writing personality and xins is always the hardest bc theyre probably the least like me. i tend to stick to #characters similar to myself to get in their head. but bc their backstory affects their personality so strongly i have to do some thinking #anyway. hopefully i remember this later #yapping #oc #oc talk #ive also been playing neko atsume recently for nostalgia and why did we as a society ever stop playing it. its so chill #you just take pictures of silly little cats and leave them silly little toys and treats. and the music is cute

[thecrusadercomrade]

Very Important Announcement

As of tonight, I have come to a very important decision regarding my works: I will be orphaning all of my shipping/romance stories.

Some of you may have seen this coming with the other decisions I've made in the last few months, but I imagine most of you are very shocked by this, so please let me explain.

For a long time now, I've had a growing distaste for the focus I've put on ship fics and romance in the past. Even with me now writing non-romance fics, they are still vastly outnumbered by the fics that do have romance as a major component. Looking at my account statistics, the vast majority of the numbers in every category are mostly from ship fics. This domination is not the way I want my account to go, and it's not the identity I want to have as a writer. Thus, in order to "rebrand" myself as a non-romance writer and fully change direction, I will be orphaning all my stories that have romance as a major component, including my Amphibia and TGAMM oneshot collections. Through this I will have a fresh start without having to move to a new account.

Keep in mind that I am merely orphaning these works, not deleting them! Though I'm not very satisfied with them anymore, I know many people have loved them, and I don't want to just completely erase them from existence just because I don't like them anymore. By orphaning these works, people will still be able to read them, and they won't be lost to the void, so there's no need to fear that. When orphaning works, there's also an option to attach my name/pseud to the works even though they're not on my account anymore, which I'll be using to help avoid confusion when people see that they've been orphaned.

This is an absolutely huge step, and it's not one I take lightly. I've thought about this for a long time, and I've decided that it's the best way for me to be happy with my writing going forward. All of my ongoing fics, like The Long Road Home, Two's a Crowd, my TWDG What-If collection, and To Continue On will all be unaffected by this change, so fans of those works have no reason to worry about them.

Thank you all for your patience with me over these last few months. I've been going through a lot of changes in my personal life, and this is a really big milestone that I'm glad I've finally become brave enough to reach, even if I'm still a little worried about how people will react. I hope you'll all be understanding, and that those of you who are fans of my current ongoing stories will continue to be fans despite this upheaval.

Thank you very much for reading this, and for all your support over the years I've been writing. I hope you'll be with me for many more to come.

#CrusaderLife #CrusaderWriting #all the names that follow are works that will be orphaned #Cell Dates #Tactical Affection-Giving and Other Short Amphibia Oneshots #Ghost Stories: a Molly McGee Anthology of Short Oneshots #Competitive Spirit #A Most Peculiar Coven #The One Where Marcy Is NOT Okay With This (Until She Is) #Faux Pas #My TWDG October Challenge Prompt Responses #The Long Road Home (Old Version) #For You #Bent Not Broken #A Stolen Moment #Amphibia Skulls

[pulpitude]

their dynamic (/p) is absolutely unmatched. i know the blood ending describes abel as being like an older brother to mc if you don't romance him but sometimes i really feel like pri acts like the protective yet intimidating older sister

#i adore all the dynamics in ilw and tbh especially the platonic ones 😭 #playchoices #play choices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #choices game #pixelberry #pb #pb choices #choices it lives #it lives series #it lives anthology #it lives within #ils #ilw #abel flint #mc: khepri el-sayed #i know i haven't done a pri profile i don't care i love this girl #and the best part is khepri is dating jocelyn 😭 #imagine being abel flint and THREE of your friends show their affection by verbally chewing you up #and two of them are girlfriends + you have constant homoerotic chemistry with the third one

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly lmao 2024 lambda literary award finalist wynnstannery

#have probably already heard of these awards w/o absorbing it but has a sizable [twitter acct you follow follows this acct] overlap for one #wikipedia blurb ''to recognize the crucial role lgbtq writers play in shaping the world...celebrate the very best in lgbtq literature'' #Lol! naturally everyone set to laugh abt Individually being lambda award finalist Authors amidst 40+ anthology contributors. sure #and of course oh absolutely crucial cam stone page. we did make the back of book blurb too after all #born of [crucially soph nothingunrealistic (a) investigates that akd role which (ai) leads to me also checking it out. later (b) #investigates this Call For Submissions For All Trans F&F Zine which (bi) leads to me going ''oh so true cam stone Needs to be there''] #all originating in The Wrong Fake ''Fans'' Show Up For Billions By Way Of Beloved Character Winston lmao #b/c fr imagine the trans f&f zine Doesn't have a Did You Know That???? page abt a delightful akd role & canon nonbinary f&f character #but this amidst Plenty of ''fake'' ''wrong'' ''fans'' messing around w/the concept of Fast & Furious as a Work throughout #as i said & got the feedback of [hell yes You Get It] that the premise Guarantees you get a very Varied & inherently Playful response #not b/c playfulness need be ''unserious'' but it sure need not be ''serious.'' like f&f itself; as part of [the premise guarantees it] #& that the Range of ways ppl can approach this broad concept is like the Range of ways ppl can approach the broad concept of Gender lol #& not Unearnest but needing no Gravitas / ''serious'' ''legitimacy'' guaranteed in turn to ''validate'' your efforts #and your not being the ''right'' or ''expected'' audience getting the perhaps straight(tm)forwardly intended experience here lmao #so in many ways it did feel very resonant / relevant to wynnstannery #embracing [the one use of: editor's note!] and [the one use of: the word ''autistic''!] #2 trans 2 furious #which is probably gonna get a physical reprint sooner than later; pdfs still available despite the lack of link there #was already The Intention if vaguely so; now with the added ''can put the 2024 Lambda Award Nominee / Finalist on the cover lol'' #page 54 (i believe) brought to you by a couple of quantnoisseurs; rushed to finish last minute then ft. some post deadline edits lmao #classic....nonzero other works i've Heard Of! nice #which: sure does seem like the focus here is like ''did you hear about these books? :)'' as many ''awards'' can ultimately be #like i Am hearing about them now. had seen abt Being Ace on twitter interesting interesting. hi honey i'm homo hell yeah #do we have one or two f&f films left? put cam stone cameo in there for real. Fast furious worth the effort worth the cost #& just shoutout to the like bifurcation of Akd Role Types. [intense in a relatively restrained affect way. some dramatic flair for sure] #and [spontaneous! vivacious! bright! playful! pretty emotionally open!] that's right lmao

[wellnoe]

the thing about pride anthologies is like. regardless of how good or meaningful the individual stories are, the collections themselves tend to feel to me like a way to ensure that discussion of sexuality and gender, storylines about those things, do not appear in mainline books, do not appear in ways that could actually affect storylines or continuity. instead, they are safely sequestered in side narratives where they never majorly affect anything else, and where they are given the minimum number of pages possible instead of letting these storylines and feelings work and effect other plots or dynamics.

#the other thing is like. imo #a lot of queer characters become recognized as queer in part because of how their interactions with other characters read. #like. relationships with x-partners or with friends and confidants or with family members. #and if their storylines are isolated from these dynamics they feel a) much less full to me #and b) again seem to isolate the queer characters #this time by kind of making it so that their queerness doesn't affect other #straight/cis #characters #this is kind of dramatic and i really do think that some stories within these anthologies are very meaningful #but i do feel like. the anthologies themselves are often isolating due to the way stories are collected and formatted together #rather than due to anything within the stories themselves #yknow? #i think i said something vaguely similar last year or something but who am i if not someone who endlessly repeats themselves #w.me

[lovecatsys]

the lgbt rep in Marvel in 2018 ish was actually pretty sweet but then in 2020-2021 they decided to tokenize us :(

#this isn't an anti marvel pride post its just the way that lgbt characters are used now ig? and marvel pride can affect it a little #i do like the pride anthologies even if some of the stories aren't always good #idk this is just a Thing now

[charlottan]

Bi Lesbians and 13 Other Spooky Identities that Don't Affect Anybody: A Horror Anthology

[serlinarose]

Island Girl Affection

Serlina Rose, an indie author & poetess, has finally published her first Poetry book. It’s a chapbook that gives a preview of the upcoming books by the author. Island Girl Affection speaks about love, nature, and family. Most importantly, the book gives a unique view of the author. Serlina says, “Island Girl Affection is a chapbook with various forms of poetry compiled together to introduce the…

View On WordPress

#DominicanWriter #twitter writer #Affection #Amazon #anthologies #Apple books #Aspirations #author #Bishie #books #books2read #Calibishie #Caribbean #Caribbean poet #Caribbean poetess #Caribbean writer #Chapbook #Create to inspire #creative writer #Don&039;t Give Up #draft2digital #Dream and Entice #Family #Father #Forgiveness #home #indie author #Indie writers #Instagram poet #Instagram Writer

[in-search-of-an-exit]

Hatchetfield, Continuity, and Eldritch Horror

So, Nerdy Prudes Must Die just came out and it reminded me how much I love the Hatchetfield series and I want to talk about one aspect that makes it so unique and interesting. Continuity.

If you don't know Hatchetfield is a series of stories by Starkid that has three stage musicals and a series called Nightmare Time and a short film. It is a horror anthology series where in every story some different supernatural or other horrible event occurs where characters die or the world ends in different ways. But that is kinda of not true because anthology isn't quite the right word.

The characters stay the same as the inhabitants of the small town of Hatchetfield but each story focuses on different characters at different times and the interesting part is that while certain individuals will act differently because of something related to the horror or supernatural elements mostly they always stick to canonical personalities and histories, and it is heavily implied that the events all actually happen and there is some wider story where there are multiple timelines.

This creates two really cool effects.

One is that you slowly start to learn more about the characters as you encounter them in various stories, and different things come about depending on how the current threat affects them. It also gives more information than any length single timeline would because we get to see what pushes them to different points. From NPMD for example, the story takes place two years after The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals in which the world ends and Paul and Emma fall in love, but we see in NPMD that Paul for the first time gives Emma his number perhaps hinting at what the timeline would be for Paul and Emma's relationship to mature without the intervention of a world ending disaster.

The other thing is about Eldritch Horror. Hatchetfield's core story revolves around the Lords in Black a group of Elder Gods who orchestrate most of the events. In most cases Eldritch Horror has difficulty truly selling the concept of creatures outside of our dimension who are not bound by time and space, and even if they demonstrate their power to the characters, as an audience it doesn't have a huge effect. But with Hatchetfield, because as an audience we are aware of the multiple timelines, we take on the role of the eldritch beings and see the stories from their perspective. In NPMD they make references to other stories implying that it is the same Lords in Black everytime with Tinky talking about having "another Spankofski" for his collection(an episode of Nightmare Time.) They also play with having the audience being the perspective of these Eldritch beings with the stagecraft like in Black Friday where entering the Black and White has the president move in from the audience, or in TGWDLM the ending has the audience clap for the end of the show with Emma screaming for help and unsure why the audience won't help her.

Its a really cool format that I personally have never encountered before and really sells the horror and makes you more invested in the characters.

#starkid #hatchetfield #nerdy prudes must die #nerdy prudes spoilers #the guy who didn't like musicals #the guy who didn't like musicals spoilers #black friday #black friday spoilers #starkid npmd #npmd #npmd spoilers #tgwdlm #nightmare time #hatchetverse

[reflectismo]

“My mum dying when I was fourteen was the big shock in my teenage years. She died of cancer, I learnt later. I didn't know then why she had died.”

[…]

“But I was determined not to let it affect me. I carried on. I learnt to put a shell around me at that age. There was none of this sitting at home crying – that would be recommended now, but not then.”

— The Beatles Anthology (2000)

//

Fan Question: What would you do if you had a time machine?

Paul McCartney: Go back and spend time with my mum.

— You Gave Me The Answer (2013)

//

“Paul was far more affected by Mum's death than any of us imagined. His very character seemed to change and for a while he behaved like a hermit.

He wasn't very nice to live with at this period, I remember. He became completely wrapped up in himself and didn't seem to care about anything or anybody outside himself.”

— Mike McCartney, Woman: Portrait of Paul (August 21st, 1965)

//

//

“She also loved music,” McCartney shared. “So one of my great memories is hearing her in the kitchen whistling, and I thought, ‘This is great. Mom’s happy.’

You know, just those little things were great memories for me.”

— Interview for This Cultural Life (2021)

//

Q: What was the biggest disappointment you ever experienced?

Paul: The fact that my mother didn't live to see my success.

— Star Time Presents The Beatles and The Groups (January 1966 Issue)

#The Beatles #Paul McCartney #Mother Mary #Grief

[haggishlyhagging]

The book list copied from feminist-reprise

Radical Lesbian Feminist Theory

A Passion for Friends: Toward a Philosophy of Female Affection, Jan Raymond

Call Me Lesbian: Lesbian Lives, Lesbian Theory, Julia Penelope

The Lesbian Heresy, Sheila Jeffreys

The Lesbian Body, Monique Wittig

Politics of Reality, Marilyn Frye

Willful Virgin: Essays in Feminism 1976-1992, Marilyn Frye

Lesbian Ethics, Sarah Hoagland

Sister/Outsider, Audre Lorde

Radical Feminist Theory –  General/Collections

Freedom Fallacy: The Limits of Liberal Feminism, edited by Miranda Kiraly and Meagan Tyler

Radically Speaking: Feminism Reclaimed, Renate Klein and Diane Bell

Love and Politics, Carol Anne Douglas

The Dialectic of Sex–The Case for Feminist Revolution, Shulamith Firestone

Sisterhood is Powerful, Robin Morgan, ed.

Radical Feminism: A Documentary Reader, edited by Barbara A. Crow

Three Guineas, Virginia Woolf

Sexual Politics, Kate Millett

Radical Feminism, Anne Koedt, Ellen Levine, and Anita Rapone, eds.

On Lies, Secrets and Silence, Adrienne Rich

Beyond Power: On Women, Men and Morals, Marilyn French

Feminism Unmodified: Discourses on Life and Law, Catharine MacKinnon

Femininity and Domination: Studies in the Phenomenology of Oppression, Sandra Bartky

Life and Death, Andrea Dworkin

This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, Gloria Anzaldua and Cherrie Moraga, eds.

Wildfire:  Igniting the She/Volution, Sonia Johnson

Homegirls: A Black Feminist Anthology, Barbara Smith ed.

Fugitive Information, Kay Leigh Hagan

Talking Back: Thinking Feminist, Thinking Black, bell hooks

Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center, bell hooks

Deals with the Devil and Other Reasons to Riot, Pearl Cleage

Pilgrimages/Peregrinajes, Maria Lugones

In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens, Alice Walker

The Whole Woman, Germaine Greer

Right Wing Women, Andrea Dworkin

Feminist Theory – Specific Areas

Prostitution

Paid For: My Journey Through Prostitution, Rachel Moran

Being and Being Bought: Prostitution, Surrogacy, and the Split Self, Kajsa Ekis Ekman

The Industrial Vagina: The Political Economy of the Global Sex Trade, Sheila Jeffreys

Female Sexual Slavery, Kathleen Barry

Women, Lesbians, and Prostitution:  A Workingclass Dyke Speaks Out Against Buying Women for Sex, by Toby Summer, in Lesbian Culture: An Anthology, Julia Penelope and Susan Wolfe, eds.

Ten Reasons for Not Legalizing Prostitution, Jan Raymond

The Legalisation of Prostitution : A failed social experiment, Sheila Jeffreys

Making the Harm Visible: Global Sexual Exploitation of Women and Girls, Donna M. Hughes and Claire Roche, eds.

Prostitution, Trafficking, and Traumatic Stress, Melissa Farley

Not for Sale: Feminists Resisting Prostitution and Pornography, Christine Stark and Rebecca Whisnant, eds.

Pornography

Pornland: How Pornography Has Hijacked Our Sexuality, Gail Dines

Pornified: How Porn is Damaging Our Lives, Our Relationships, and Our Families, Pamela Paul

Pornography: Men Possessing Women, Andrea Dworkin

Pornography: The Production and Consumption of Inequality, Gail Dines

Pornography: Evidence of the Harm, Diana Russell

Pornography and Sexual Violence:  Evidence of the Links (transcript of Minneapolis hearings published by Everywoman in the UK)

Rape

Against Our Will, Susan Brownmiller

Rape In Marriage, Diana Russell

Incest

Secret Trauma, Diana Russell

Victimized Daughters: Incest and the Development of the Female Self, Janet Liebman Jacobs

Battering/Domestic Violence

Loving to Survive, Dee Graham

Trauma and Recovery, Judith Herman

Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men, Lundy Bancroft

Sadomasochism/”Sex Wars”

Unleashing Feminism: Critiquing Lesbian Sadomasochism in the Gay Nineties, Irene Reti, ed.

The Sex Wars, Lisa Duggan and Nan D. Hunter, eds.

The Sexual Liberals and the Attack on Feminism, edited by Dorchen Leidholdt and Janice Raymond

Sex, Lies, and Feminism, Charlotte Croson, off our backs, June 2001

How Orgasm Politics Has Hijacked the Women’s Movement, Sheila Jeffreys

A Vision of Lesbian Sexuality, Janice Raymond, in All The Rage: Reasserting Radical Lesbian Feminism, Lynne Harne & Elaine Miller, eds.

Sex and Feminism: Who Is Being Silenced? Adriene Sere in SaidIt, 2001

Consuming Passions: Some Thoughts on History, Sex and Free Enterprise by De Clarke (From Unleashing Feminism).

Separatism/Women-Only Space

“No Dobermans Allowed,”  Carolyn Gage, in Lesbian Culture: An Anthology, Julia Penelope and Susan Wolfe, eds.

For Lesbians Only:  A Separatist Anthology, Julia Penelope & Sarah Hoagland, eds.

Exploring the Value of Women-Only Space, Kya Ogyn

Medicine

Witches, Midwives and Nurses: A History of Women Healers, Barbara Ehrenreich and Deirdre English

For Her Own Good: 150 Years of the Experts’ Advice to Women, Barbara Ehrenreich and Deirdre English

The Hidden Malpractice: How American Medicine Treats Women as Patients and Professionals, Gena Corea

The Mother Machine: Reproductive Technologies from Artificial Insemination to Artificial Wombs, Gena Corea

Women and Madness, Phyllis Chesler

Women, Health and the Politics of Fat, Amy Winter, in Rain And Thunder, Autumn Equinox 2003, No. 20

Changing Our Minds: Lesbian Feminism and Psychology, Celia Kitzinger and Rachel Perkins

Motherhood

Of Woman Born: Motherhood as Experience and Institution, Adrienne Rich

The Reproduction of Mothering, Nancy Chodorow

Maternal Thinking: Toward a Politics of Peace, Sara Ruddick

Marriage/Heterosexuality

Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence, Adrienne Rich

The Spinster and Her Enemies: Feminism and Sexuality 1880-1930, Sheila Jeffreys

Anticlimax: A Feminist Perspective on the Sexual Revolution, Sheila Jeffreys

Black Macho and the Myth of the Superwoman, Michele Wallace

The Sexual Contract, Carol Pateman

A Radical Dyke Experiment for the Next Century: 5 Things to Work for Instead of Same-Sex Marriage, Betsy Brown in off our backs, January 2000 V.30; N.1 p. 24

Intercourse, Andrea Dworkin

Transgender/Queer Politics

Gender Hurts, Sheila Jeffreys

Female Erasure, edited by Ruth Barrett

Testosterone Rex: Unmaking the Myths of Our Gendered Minds, Cordelia Fine

Delusions of Gender: How Our Minds, Society, and Neurosexism Create Difference, Cordelina Fine

Sexing the Body: Gender and the Construction of Sexuality, Anne Fausto-Sterling

Myths of Gender, Anne Fausto-Sterling

Unpacking Queer Politics, Sheila Jeffreys

The Transsexual Empire: The Making of the She-Male, Janice Raymond

The Inconvenient Truth of Teena Brandon, Carolyn Gage

Language

Speaking Freely: Unlearning the Lies of the Fathers’ Tongues, Julia Penelope

Websters’ First New Intergalactic Wickedary, Mary Daly

Man Made Language, Dale Spender

Feminist Theology/Spirituality/Religion

Beyond God the Father: Toward a Philosophy of Women’s Liberation, Mary Daly

Gyn/Ecology: The Metaethics of Radical Feminism, Mary Daly

The Gods and Goddesses of Old Europe, Marija Gimbutas

Woman, Church and State, Matilda Joslyn Gage

The Women’s Bible, Elizabeth Cady Stanton

Pure Lust, Mary Daly

Backlash

The War Against Women, Marilyn French

Backlash, Susan Faludi

History/Memoir

Surpassing the Love of Men, Lillian Faderman

Going Too Far:  The Personal Chronicles of a Feminist, Robin Morgan

Women of Ideas, and What Men Have Done to Them, Dale Spender

The Creation of Patriarchy, Gerda Lerner

The Creation of Feminist Consciousness, From the Middle Ages to Eighteen-Seventy, Gerda Lerner

Why History Matters, Gerda Lerner

A Vindication of the Rights of Women, Mary Wollstonecraft, ed.

The Elizabeth Cady Stanton-Susan B. Anthony Reader: Correspondence, Writings, Speeches, Ellen Carol Dubois, ed., Gerda Lerner, Elizabeth Cady Stanton

The Suffragette Movement, Sylvia Pankhurst

In Our Time: Memoirs of a Revolution, Susan Brownmiller

Women, Race and Class, Angela Y. Davis

Economy

Counting for Nothing: What Men Value and What Women Are Worth, Marilyn Waring

For-Giving:  A Feminist Criticism of Exchange, Genevieve Vaughn

Fat/Body Image/Appearance

Shadow on a Tightrope: Writings by Women on Fat Oppression, Lisa Schoenfielder and Barb Wieser

Beauty and Misogyny: Harmful Cultural Practices in the West, Sheila Jeffreys

Can’t Buy My Love: How Advertising Changes the Way We Think and Feel, Jean Kilbourne

The Beauty Myth, Naomi Wolf

Unbearable Weight:  Feminism, Western Culture, and the Body, Susan Bordo

The Invisible Woman:  Confronting Weight Prejudice in America, Charisse Goodman

Women En Large: Photographs of Fat Nudes, Laurie Toby Edison and Debbie Notkin

Disability

With the Power of Each Breath:  A Disabled Women’s Anthology, Susan E. Browne, Debra Connors, and Nanci Stern

#tbr list

[songsofadelaide]

Invisible String

cw: female reader, fluff, slice of life, friends to lovers, time skips, no use of yn and instead follows my usual naming convention (I use Otome as a placeholder for yn since it means maiden, which pretty much means yn too), some inaccurate depictions of university life and inaccurate details about air travel between two countries. wc: 6k

Instead of finding a quiet place where he could lament his last days in junior high school in peace, Oikawa Tooru found you. 

Glimpses of your odd relationship with up-and-coming volleyball superstar Oikawa Tooru, starting from your accidental first meeting to defining the very thing that you have.

Instead of finding a quiet place where he could lament his last days in junior high school in peace, Oikawa Tooru found you.

He entered the Literature Club room in a rush, noting it was probably the first one he reached without bursting into tears over the Kitagawa Daiichi Boys' Volleyball Club's recent loss to Shiratorizawa Junior High. The brunette expected the room to be empty, but there you were, startled by the rattling of the door after being so engrossed in your own writing.

You recognised him as the boys' volleyball club captain and the object of affection of many of your female classmates. However, he was hardly the image of grace and elegance on the court at the moment, especially since his face was all red trying to contain his tears. He was just as startled as you were when he realised he wasn't alone in the room.

Your mother once said it was rude to stare at people who were crying, especially if they were trying to hide their tears, so you lowered your head and returned to your scribbling. The door was shut close and you thought he had left, but he walked to the corner of the room and sat still for a few minutes before finally speaking.

"Please don't tell anyone you saw me here."

You fished for something in your bag and approached him, getting down on your knees so you were face-to-face with him.

"My mother told me it's rude to ask people why they're crying, but I figured there's nothing to lose for the both of us since we're on our last leg of junior high. Whatever it is you're weeping about, I'm pretty sure you did your best," you told him before handing him a pack of pocket tissues. "You have nothing to worry about. We won't be seeing each other afterwards, anyway."

He chuckled at you before finally taking the tissues in your hand. "I guess you're right."

You were right for the most part since your paths rarely crossed after that single encounter. Your last days of junior high school went by smoothly and peacefully. The romance anthology you wrote as part of the Literature Club was warmly received by members and readers, one of whom was the graduated captain of the boys' volleyball club.

After the graduation day ceremony, Oikawa approached you outside the gymnasium with his signature megawatt smile, diploma and flowers in hand and his gakuran swept off all its golden buttons.

"Writer-chan!"

"It's actually Otome," you replied with your name as you turned to face him. "But not that it matters now. Congratulations."

"Of course it does! Congratulations as well!"

He gently snipped the button on the left sleeve of his gakuran and handed it to you. "Thank you, friend, for reaching out to me back then."

Friend, he said. You were practically strangers with a shared secret, but you indulged him, seeing as you won't be seeing him again, after all. You took the single button from his palm with a smile. "You're welcome, friend."

You likened him to the ocean's waves— refreshing, but always coming and going. Waves weren't meant to stay in one place for so long, so you saw no point in needlessly wading in the cool waters.

I don't want to drown, after all, you thought to yourself.

Oikawa had the most bewildered look on his face when you bumped into each other on your first week of senior high school at Aoba Johsai and you knew you looked just as surprised by the encounter.

"It's writer-chan!" He greeted you with his most pleasant smile. "And here I thought we'd never see each other again!"

He made it a point for the two of you to exchange contact details, saying something about how the gods of fate must definitely want you to have something to do with each other. A brooding figure approached from behind him, brows knotted as he pushed the taller boy who still had your cell phone in his hands. You recognised him as Oikawa's wing spiker from Kitagawa Daichi as well as his closest friend.

"The hell are you doing picking up girls in the middle of the hallway, Trashykawa?" Iwaizumi Hajime barked at him, prompting him to hand back your phone to you.

"I'm not picking her up, Iwa-chan! She's from Kitaichi! My friend from the Literature Club!" The taller brunet whined. "Don't mind him, Otome-chan. He probably woke up on the wrong side of the— Ow!"

"You can talk later. We're gonna be late for our tryouts," Iwaizumi stated before nudging him forward on his feet.

"We'll see you around, Otome-chan!" Oikawa waved back at you as they made their way to the school gymnasium. Iwaizumi managed a small nod at you before turning to reprimand the setter for holding them up.

Throughout your high school life, you couldn't count how many times you sharply dismissed the gossip surrounding your odd friendship with the boys' volleyball club setter, who rose to become the team captain in your third year. Oikawa's keen-eyed watchers found him occasionally dropping by the Literature Club for no apparent reason other than to talk to you. Those rumours were quickly shut down when he was spotted with a different girl in his arm— a classmate of yours, the kind of girl you'd want to do things for because of her charming face and personality. You didn't find it that surprising at all. In fact, they looked really good together.

You paid no mind to the fact that he was purposely ignoring you now whenever you passed by each other in the hallways. Not that you ever made the initiative to greet him first, but there were times when you looked at him rather expectantly and he would just avert his gaze. Iwaizumi told you that it wasn't just you Oikawa was avoiding, but basically the whole female student body. You realised that the whole thing was probably orchestrated by his girlfriend.

Typical. He's not one to do things half-heartedly, you thought to yourself. So once again, I'm not surprised.

When you met each other outside of school for the first time in such a long time, you learned to finally grow indifferent to him that you didn't even know what to say to him when he greeted you with one of his dazzling smiles. Oikawa perked up when he spotted you picking up your little sibling, who was one of his students at the local Lil'Tykes Volleyball classes he taught at during his downtime.

"It's Otome-chan!" He called out rather happily, but you coolly turned away and took your younger sibling's hand to make way for home. You heard him choke at your reaction. "O-Otome-chan! Are you ignoring me?!"

"Oh, are we on speaking terms again?" You asked him, pausing on your tracks and merely looking over your shoulder. "Or is it just because we aren't at school?"

Oikawa's young nephew Takeru had dragged your sibling away to practice more tosses with his own volleyball when he realised that his uncle would be held up in a conversation. The tall boy looked rather apologetic before raking a hand through his dark hair. "Ugh. I'm so sorry. I've been a real jerk to you, I know. But there's nothing to worry about now. I—"

"I think the last thing you need right now is a distraction, Oikawa-san," you replied to him, his expression changing once again as you called him by his last name and not how you usually did. "And your girlfriend did a pretty good job clearing your way. It's all right, though. I'm not even a threat to her and yet—"

"We broke up."

"…What?"

Long arms were crossed over his chest now, his immaculately white track jacket crinkling underneath the motion. "W-Well, of course, I won't admit to just anyone that she was the one who ended things because she didn't like how much time I spent playing volleyball. But she should've known that the sport was part of…"

You really didn't pay any more attention to his explanation, but the incredulous look on your face completely gave away your thoughts, because, fuck, the audacity of that bitch—

"I know I should've decided things for myself and I should've listened to Iwa-chan, Mattsun and Makki when they were pointing out all the red flags. Gosh, I still feel so awful about it. I didn't like having to avoid you when there was so much I wanted to talk to you about."

The two of you stood there in silence, the children's laughter and the cool morning breeze filling in the void after he had finished talking.

"Is…" You had grabbed fistfuls of your skirt that was fluttering in the wind, hands shaking as you tried to think of the right words to say. "Is that all?"

"Y-Yeah…" he replied rather uneasily as he saw your fists shuddering rather angrily. He took a step forward toward you and reached out for your balled fists, gently soothing them to loosen your grip before placing one of your palms over his chest rather dramatically. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. And I have to admit, seeing you look at me so indifferently hurts my heart!"

"Wh— Tooru-kun, stop!" You snatched your hand away from his warm grip only for him to pull you closer.

"You called me Tooru-kun! Ah, I'm so happy!" He beamed at you, gently letting you go and finally beckoning his nephew to join him. "Anyway, I won't hold you and your sibling up any longer. Let's talk after club! Bye-bye!"

True to his word, Oikawa arrived at the Literature Club room days later, his boisterous entrance startling you so much that it could only mean he did it on purpose.

"Drama just loves me, doesn't it?" He chuckled, taking a vacant seat to sit across from you like he always does whenever he comes to see you. "And do you never run out of things to write about, Otome-chan?"

"There's always something interesting happening around me," you replied, not even bothering to look up at him after he surprised you just moments ago. He had brought out his cell phone, mindlessly scrolling through his social media since he couldn't think of anything else to ask you. The quiet was finally broken when he placed his phone on your desk, most likely bored stiff and stifled by the silence of the whole club room.

"If we had dated instead, you wouldn't mind me spending most of my time training, isn't that right, Otome-chan?"

You were both shocked by the snapping of your mechanical pencil's lead against your notebook. His eyes widened as you looked up him, red-faced and rendered speechless. You were sure you looked like a fucking doe in the headlights, even more so when you saw his lips quiver to a small delighted smile.

"Wh-What?! D-Don't talk about that kind of stuff, Trashykawa!"

"Did you just hear yourself?! You sound just like Iwa-chan now!" The smile melted into a pout. "Is dating me such a bad idea for you? I'm so hurt, Otome-chan!"

"You should hear yourself! Spouting all this nonsense about d-dating…" you slid your notebook away from you and accidentally nudged his phone off the desk, which you both hurriedly tried to catch, your hands and fingers tangling midair as you caught the object. A sigh left your lips as you straightened your back. "You can let go of me now, Tooru-kun."

"Let me hold you for a bit, Otome-chan," he told you, scooting over much closer to where you sat. "May I?"

"Wait, what do you mean hold—"

Oikawa was six feet tall and surprisingly sturdy despite his elegant, slender appearance. He rested part of his weight on you when he pulled you into an embrace, long arms gently coiling around your waist.

"T-Tooru-kun?" You squeaked at him, slipping your arms under his to return his embrace. "Is everything all right?…"

"Is it unpleasant?" He asked you, his voice reverberating through your chest. You shook your head, your hair brushing against his cheek. "Good. Because I'd like to do this again."

When he finally pulled away, he laughed at your burning face so much that he almost fell off his seat. It took every bit of your energy to kick him out of the Literature Club room, his laughter ringing throughout the school's empty halls.

From then on, you became each other's warm bodies, but nothing more than that. Commitment was something you couldn't ask from each other, too, especially from him, who had a future in the game in the long run. You would be nothing but a distraction. In turn, he worked to make sure your anthologies were well-received by the student body.

Holding onto even the smallest sliver of hope was emotional suicide, but you can't count how many times you had to save yourself from drowning in the coldness of the deep blue sea that was Oikawa Tooru. You didn't even know if you were still breathing after that.

You couldn't help but find the whole thing nostalgic. The red-faced Oikawa finding you scribbling away in the Literature Club room in the wake of their loss to Shiratorizawa just mere months away from high school graduation. He had told you beforehand of his plans to migrate to South America following recommendations by the boys' volleyball club's elderly Coach Irihata and you had congratulated him for it.

Still in his club tracksuit, he made his way to where you were and wordlessly grabbed a seat, observing you in silence before finally speaking.

"I'm not coming back until I've finally become the player I want to be," he stated, sitting across you as you continued your writing. He changed his tone into a more playful one, the kind he used whenever he was teasing people. "Won't you feel even a bit sad that I'll be leaving, Otome-chan?"

The ocean waves once merely splashing at your feet had become a whole tidal wave and it threatened to drown you now.

You paused from your writing and looked up at him. "Shall we grab a drink?"

Most of the students had already left the campus at that time, so you had no trouble walking around school with him. The last thing you wanted was to be seen with him and have your entire relationship questioned when even you had no answers for yourself.

"I won't be sad when you leave, Tooru-kun," you told him, eyes on the setting sun as you sipped on your milk box. "You're pursuing your dreams and I am elated at the prospect of what kind of player you'll be in the future. The world is in your hands. You have only to grasp it now."

On your way back to the Literature Club room, he was chattering about his prospective successors to the volleyball club's captaincy. The two of you ended up leaning on the club window, figures drowned in the colours of dusk as your conversation slowly died out. You stood there in complete silence, a feeling of contentment washing over you as you turned to smile at him.

"I await the day I see you on the world's centre stage."

Oikawa smiled back at you tenderly— a small one he usually reserved for moments such as this. "And I await the day I finally get my hands on a real novel written by you."

"I'm not sure how we'll make that happen since you'll be moving far away," you replied with a chuckle. "I guess we'll figure something out when it's here."

"Thank you, dearest friend," he gave you a short bow, a hand on his chest as he met your gaze again once again. "Because of you, I never lost my heart."

You've seen different parts of him throughout the years you've been called his cherished friend, but you never really had a clue about what was going on in his head even as he laid his words bare. He leaned down and brushed a kiss on your cheek, surprised by the tears that fell from your eyes. You've both come to realise that your emotions betrayed your words and there was nothing you could do to take it back.

I swam too far from the shore, you told yourself that night. It's painful, but at least I know I'm alive.

When graduation day came once again, he had no golden button to give you, just a promise that he would keep in touch with you even as he left Japan. You barely had the chance to talk to him on that day since he was surrounded by his kouhais from the volleyball club, along with other wide-eyed admirers who were keen to get their final presents to him.

"Hey, Otome-chan! Get over here!" You heard him call out to you, beckoning you to come over to where he was. Iwaizumi was holding a mobile phone and was ready to do his best friend a favour. "We need a commemorative photo!"

That same photo sat at your desk in your little studio apartment for years to come.

Oikawa had kept his promise to you and his friends and kept in contact so frequently that you'd mistake him for having so much time in his hands. The calls were sparse, but the messages came nearly every day, even with a 12-hour time difference between the two of you.

When you told him about how you were unable to finish your college degree at Miyagi Gakuin Women's University after the vast collection of anthologies you wrote back in high school was discovered by a local publisher, he called you the soonest he could and asked how you felt.

"As long as you're doing what you love and pursuing what your heart's telling you," you recall him saying with a low voice, one you haven't heard in such a long time that it rendered you to tears. "I'll continue supporting you, Otome-chan. You have all of my support!"

The local publisher was so enamoured with your juvenile work that they asked you to write something completely new for them, assigning one of their best editors to you to keep you grounded as you worked. Somehow you couldn't quite point out if this was one great stroke of good luck or a damn honeytrap you can't walk away from anymore. Yes, you stopped college halfway to start writing novels, just like what you dreamed of before, writing alone in your high school club room. It was happening way too soon.

You were rarely asked to come by to the publishing house, but you were often in contact with your editor, whom you missed a call from since you were making coffee for yourself while working on a new story draft. The last one had just left your hands earlier this week and you didn't expect to hear anything about it for quite a while, so you called him back to confirm if everything was all right.

"Hello, Tatara-san. Is there something wrong?"

"Otome-san, I don't know what to say, to be honest. But, ah, anyway, now isn't the time to lose my composure. I have great news for you."

You nearly dropped your cup of coffee when you heard that your last draft would be published into a book. "Are you for real?!"

The poignant novel you slaved over for days and nights to years, Two Silver Moons, would be published by the end of the year, just in time for Christmas. You would have to be there during the whole process, but the publishing house guaranteed you a break afterwards, unexpectedly given but greatly welcomed. You thought of visiting your family in time for the new year, but you remembered that your parents were out on their own little cruise around the world.

The options you had were pretty close by until you received a reply from Oikawa, who was most likely in the middle of his club training.

[ O. Tooru-選手: I'm so happy for you, Otome-chan! Congratulations! (≧▽≦) ]

You never left Sendai for most of your life, but you took off at the first sign of a break, much to the chagrin of your editor, who helped you update your passport, book your flights and tickets, book the hotel where you would be staying and even mentally prepared you for the different kind of culture you'd experience. Two weeks was long enough, you recall him telling you. You both lamented the fact that you burned out nearly a quarter of what you earned from your first novel's publication for this little excursion of yours, but you figured it was something you could earn back with another book or two.

Your last message to Oikawa was back from the new year. Turning to your wristwatch, you estimated what time it would be in Argentina before determining that you'd receive a reply.

[ YN: Say, how long is a flight from Tokyo to San Juan? ]

[ O. Tooru-選手: You wouldn't want to know. ]

[ YN: But what if I do? ]

[ O. Tooru-選手: Otome-chan! Don't tell me you plan on coming here! (☉∀☉) ]

You laughed to yourself, pulling your luggage close to you as you stood in line at the Narita Airport boarding area, passport and boarding pass in the other hand.

[ YN: I'll see you soon, Tooru-kun. ]

[ O. Tooru-選手: Please, if you're just saying all of this, just stop. You're gonna disappoint me. (ᗒᗩᗕ) ]

[ YN: Have to check in my luggage. I'll message you when I'm in France. ]

[ O. Tooru-選手: Oh my gosh, Otome-chan! If I arrive at Ezeiza Airport and you're not there, you can forget that we're friends! ]

It was only when you got on the plane and had to sit for nearly 13 hours that you realised how far spread out the whole world really is. Sendai was but a speck of dust from your view above the clouds, but it will always be home to you. You brought out your tiny notepad and started scribbling about a flight situation you could incorporate in your next story as you passed the time.

The wait will be worth it, you convinced yourself. I've waited for so long to be able to swim in your presence again. What's another 34 hours in air?

There was a 7-hour layover which quickly passed by for you as you kept yourself engrossed in your writing. Something about Parisian coffee made your heart race a bit quicker than normal and it made all the wheels in your head turn non-stop until you realised you burned through nearly half of your notepad. You pocketed the coffee-stained paper napkins that held more of your writing and folded it neatly enough with shaking fingers to fit it on your tiny notepad. The last hour of the layover was spent freshening up and changing into a new blouse, as well as counting all the tiles your eyes could take in from where you sat. You decided against having coffee in Argentina because of the havoc it wrecked over your body.

[ O. Tooru-選手: Otome-chan, are you about to board your flight to here? Take care and don't forget to stretch around! ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ ]

[ YN: You sent a photo. ]

It was a blurry, crazy, hair-in-face kind of selfie that you usually reserved for your parents and siblings. If there was such a thing as coffee-drunk, it was definitely happening to you. You were glad the caffeine finally died out mid-flight and you spent the remaining seven hours asleep. You practically had no sense of time when you boarded off the plane from France, but your entire being was shaken awake when you spotted the tall setter with a little placard that had your name on it in his hands. Oikawa, who was in a bright red shirt and khaki chino shorts, broke into a smile when he spotted you.

"Yohoo! Otome-chan!"

"T—" You stammered, far too excited to meet his embrace that you ended up slipping face first across the Ezeiza Airport terminal, eliciting shocked gasps from onlookers and people passing by. It took you a solid minute to get up before grumbling to yourself. "Ahh, what the fuck, self?"

Oikawa laughed and everything felt better all of a sudden. He was down on his left knee to check if you were all right. "You seem fine."

"I am!" You told him, finally raising your eyes to meet his gaze. "I'm totally fine."

"Ah, that's good!" He stated, a hand on his chest as he breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, let's go! We have another plane to catch, don't we?"

"Ack! I didn't know that you had to fly here!" You exclaimed apologetically, finally getting up on your feet as he pulled you up with him. "I'll, uh, pay for your next flight! Or something!"

"Don't worry about me, Otome-chan! It's been a while since I've had a visitor here, so I'm rather thrilled! I've been granted a tiny break by my club since you've gone through lengths to see me. For now, let's get some of your yen changed into pesos."

He chuckled to himself as you both stood before the money changer, hearing him comment about how it's been so long since he last saw and held yen in his hands. He looked rather shocked at the amount you brought with you, not entirely sure if he should return the money to you. "Otome-chan! You brought way too much! Are you planning to buy the whole province of San Juan or something?"

"Tatara-san— My editor told me it was better to bring extra than to find myself short on funds," you turned to him, wringing your fingers in worry. "Maybe keep it for me for the meantime?"

"Gladly! Consider me your tour guide, body guard, accountant— what else?" He said thoughtfully, slipping the rolls of Argentine pesos in his tiny body bag before taking your hand in his. "The next time you make a trip like this, at least tell me beforehand. We can always meet halfway instead of you just coming all the way here to see me."

"But it was me who wanted to see you," you replied, looking up at him. He was searching for the Aerolineas Argentinas ticket office.

"All right, so we book same-day flights, two hours to Mendoza Airport, and finally catch a bus to the city. Pretty sure I didn't miss anything," he counted with his fingers. "If my estimates are correct, we'll arrive at around 18:00 to 18:30, just in time to grab some dinner. Or maybe you want some coffee?"

"No coffee," you waved your hand over your face. "Parisian coffee drove me nuts while I was in France. I'd like to be able to sleep later, please."

You were able to sleep during your two-hour flight, your slumber abruptly interrupted when the captain announced your descent to San Juan. Of course you apologised profusely for accidentally drooling on Oikawa's sleeve.

"Ugh. I didn't know you had to travel so far to pick me up from Buenos Aires. I'm so sorry, Tooru-k—"

"Hush now, Otome-chan," he presented your bus tickets to the conductor before pulling you up with him. "If you're really sorry, just promise me we'll have a lot of fun while you're here. And besides, what's a little travelling when I get to spend time with you?"

The five-hour-long bus ride passed by in a flash as Oikawa pointed at every significant landmark he could identify on the road, while you had your tiny notepad in your hands again to jot down shaky phrases, listening closely to how he pronounced the foreign names and words.

You felt like you were floating in the middle of a calm ocean, the afternoon sun beating over your skin as you let yourself be carried away by the waves.

He chose to have dinner at a little place called Soychu, which specialised in vegetarian meals. It was also near the hotel your editor booked for you. Oikawa, who considered this place his home for the last two years, seemed rather amused at the way your head whipped around at every curious sound you heard.

"San Juan isn't as colourful as Buenos Aires, but it has its own charms," he told you, placing a serving of provoleta on your plate. "We'll have a lot of time to explore tomorrow, so you should rest up after such a long flight."

And you were indeed charmed by the city's nightlife— jet lag quickly replaced by sensory overload as you tried to take in everything you laid your eyes on and everything you heard— lights reflecting from the restaurant windows, a cool evening breeze and the odd stranger greeting a friend in a language you had no idea about. Even the restaurant you were in captured your heart in a way you can't put in to words.

"Departamento en San Juan?" You read the booking made by your editor a few weeks back as you stood outside the apartment premises. "Is that right?"

"Yeah, this is it. Wait a moment, I'll confirm your booking," he said as he entered the premises to greet the receptionist. "¡Buenas noche! Mi querida reservo una cuarto…"

You honestly had no idea what he was telling the middle-aged receptionist who gave you a short glance before turning to her log book. His Spanish was really good and you were sure he wasn't selling you out to a murderer, at least, seeing how the lady smiled at you. She turned around to grab the keys to your lodging for the next two weeks and threw out something that sounded like a question. "¿Te quedaras tambien?"

Oikawa chuckled, understanding what it meant. He turned to you with a smile as he was handed the keys. "Ya veremos."

The cream-coloured apartment room had a single king-sized bed in the only bedroom, a wide kitchen space, a clean bathroom with a heated shower and a tiny balcony that overlooked the lighted cobblestone street they walked earlier.

"All right, everything looks good to me," he walked out of the bathroom, which was the last place he checked after making his rounds in the space you'll be living in for the next two weeks. "I'll leave you to rest and unpack, Otome-chan. The Wi-fi password is on the refrigerator. And don't you worry about your money because I won't go running away with it! Message me tomorrow, all right?"

He was just about to take his leave, hand already on the door when you stopped him midway, gently pulling at the hem of his red shirt. "T-Tooru-kun, wait a moment. I… I, uh…"

The words didn't come out easily. You weren't just about ready to part ways with him just yet and you needed to let him know.

"Otome," he started, dropping the honorific from your name for the first time. He raised his hand and brushed cool knuckles over your warm cheek before finally tipping your chin so your eyes would meet. "I don't quite understand what it is you're trying to tell me."

He was teasing you.

I want to drown, your mind screamed at you. I want to drown in you.

"I'm… not really that ready to let you go. I, uh… C-Can you stay here? Just for tonight, i-if it's all right. I just—"

He caught your quivering lips in his as he leaned down to kiss you and you felt all of your resolve crumble so easily just as you did in his arms. You threw your arms around his neck and willed yourself not to shed a single tear now. There was no clumsy fumbling out of your clothes as you were swept away to the bedroom, only the rapid thumping of your heart against his chest and his warm hands all over you— touching you so softly, gently, kindly— making you cry even though you swore to yourself that you wouldn't.

"Don't cry, Otome," he breathed over you, brushing a kiss on your cheek as he coiled his arms around you. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't—" You raised your hands to cup his face, softly grazing your thumb over his lips. "…Don't apologise now."

He obliged and saved the apologies for tomorrow or another day. Now wasn't the time for any of that at all. Not when you've waited for him to hold you like this for so long.

You have nothing to be sorry for, Tooru. I wanted to swim so I dove in.

If there was one thing you were sure about, it was already morning. The light from your window said so, at least. You blinked away your bleary vision and tried to move, only to find an arm draped over your figure. Your back. Wait, am I naked? Don't tell me we—

A head of tousled dark hair was asleep beside you, the morning sun beating on his naked and toned back.

Oikawa Tooru.

He groaned in his sleep before moving closer and pulling you in his arms, your cheek gently colliding with his chest, the steady beating of his heart enough to pacify your thoughts. It didn't take long for him to stir and finally awaken, planting a tender kiss on the crown of your head.

"Look at you," he stated, eyes disappearing as he beamed at you. "You've grown much lovelier. Can't believe it took me this long to tell you."

"Good morning, Tooru," you smiled back at him, warm hands on his face. You brushed away the hair stuck on his forehead.

"Oh, right! Now that we're here, would you please do me the favour?"

You sat up with him, stretching your arms while he reached for his tiny body bag on the bedside table right next to him. He pulled out a copy of Two Silver Moons and handed it to you.

"You—" your fingers curled around the book, flipping through the pages in complete disbelief. "How?…"

"Come now! Did you really think I'd miss out on the golden opportunity of grabbing a copy of your first novel?" He waved a hand, an obviously pleased smile on his face. "I pulled a few strings here and there, but it's the real deal, isn't it? Will you sign it for me?"

"Tooru, I—" To both your surprise, you still had more tears to cry. "Y-You really went out of your way for this. You really care this much—"

"Why on earth would I not care about you, Otome?" He stated, moving in to kiss your forehead. "You're so precious to me."

He could sense the apprehension you were feeling and he couldn't blame you for it. The two of you danced around each other's feelings even since you were both young, neither having an idea of what the other truly was to them. He had an answer to that now.

"There's a thing they call people like us," he said, taking one of your hands in his. "We are lovers, are we not?"

Lovers.

Oh, the word felt absolutely foreign to you before because you had absolutely no idea what you were. It sounded so much pleasant to you both now. You smiled at him and his knotted brows disappeared.

"Yes, I believe we are."

"Ah, that's a relief. I thought you wouldn't agree with me," he sighed, obviously relieved by your reply. "So where do you want to go today, querida? What are you writing about? We can go to the Leoncito Astronomical Complex. Or the Museo Provincial de Bellas Artes Franklin Rawson. There's also the San Guillermo National Park. Ischigualasto Provincial Park. I can go on and on, you know."

"You lead the way, leaderman," you said with a chuckle as you reached for a pen on the bedside table. You jotted down a message on the front page of his book.

'To Oikawa Tooru-senshu. Thank you for your love and support! Likewise, you will always have mine. I love you. ♡'

Regardless of the time and distance you've spent apart, you find yourselves gravitating back towards each other, hearts bound by an unseen force you both finally had the right word for.

The conversation Tooru had with the lady receptionist went pretty much like this:

T: Good evening! My darling (could also be dear, dearest) reserved a room... R: Will you stay too? T: *laughs* We'll see.

Author's Notes: This is from my older haikyuu series Dreams of Fire Trees and Silver Moons on AO3. I suddenly remembered this fic and how dramatic it was when I saw this on X. Oikawa is truly one of the prettiest boys in hq and you can quote me on that lol.

#songsofadelaidewrites💛 #mari's archive 🌴 #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you

[see-arcane]

The Vampyres--The Bones and Blood of the Book

Good news! I’m not dead and the book isn’t either! Just shambling slowly through the wasteland of the publication process. It’s been a bit since I last waved this bloody morsel around. So, consider this a progress report on the state of the novella, the prospective publishing options, and a few other questions that have been bouncing around in the inbox.

EDIT:

I have a website now! For some reason.

It's See Arcane Scribbles.

Smaller Edit:

Got a Spotify too for story soundtrack goodness:

COVERS

First things first—and the first part of a finished book is the cover. Here are some mockups I’ve been juggling, starting with the original placeholder. They’re far from perfect, but I’m proud of what I managed with a fairly skinny graphic art skill set.

FINISHING, FORMAT, AND FINANCE*

*(OR, THE HEADACHENING)

Copyright: Technically speaking, you have the copyright to your own writing once you put it to paper or screen. But this is somehow a different thing from a legally-binding registered copyright, which everyone declares is a must-have if you want your work to be protected with more than a non-textual trust-fall exercise, hoping nobody steals your work and runs.

That said, electronic registration with the copyright office is $65, or $45 to register one work by one author.

ISBN: I only recently learned the words behind this acronym. ‘International Standard Book Number.’ It’s the ID on a book that marks it as unique and helps commercial booksellers and libraries circulate it. Each iteration of a book—paperback, digital, hardcover, new editions, et cetera—has its own ISBN. When you’re publishing on your own, you purchase ISBNs through a service called Bowker.

One book/version’s ISBN costs $125.

There are better bargains the higher the number of books and/or versions you go, starting at a bulk of 10 books for $295. But as I only have the one (1) skinny novella on the table, that’s a no-go. Which begs the question of how many ISBNs are in store for this little monster. It depends on how many formats I go with.

eBook: The quickest and most cost-efficient option across the board for any self-publication service. Short, sweet, no printing pains of trim sizes or distribution costs or formatting, oh my. Nice.

Paperback VS Hardcover: …But I am now and forever a sucker for physical media. Even though it’s a teeny brochure of a thing, I want to hold a physical copy of The Vampyres in my hands! So bad! And every service I’ve looked through has stated the obvious: Hardcover costs more than paperback. My heart won’t break if I have to stick with paperback to spare everyone’s wallets—hardcovers are pricy in both directions!—but I am a little torn. Especially as physical size might affect the price too.

Here we have two of my favorite quick reads, an anthology of Poe stories and Clive Barker’s novella, The Hellbound Heart.

The Poe book is a clothbound hardcover. 6.5 x 4.5 inches, a bit over 120 pages.

The Hellbound Heart is roughly 8 x 5 inches (about standard for a novella), at 164 pages. But unlike Poe, it looks like Barker took some liberties with the spacing and font size.

Standard size dimensions cost less than unique cuts, which means that whether paperback or hardcover, I sadly have to say goodbye to the petite palm-sized edition I was hoping for. On the upside, good news to us crap-vision readers—the font’s going to get H U G E in order to make the book more than a pamphlet with delusions of grandeur.

Audiobook: The fact is, my voice is not up to the task of reciting anything with appropriate gravitas and I think we’ve all been spoiled by @re-dracula and assorted other podcasts’ skill in orating. I don’t have the cash to hire a professional and I’m not about to accept anyone’s freebie offers. I won’t pickpocket friends for their talent. If an audio version ever comes along for any story of mine it’ll be down the road when it proves worth the format’s effort and cost.

REVIEWS (and a Foreword!)

It was the best of times (People reading the thing! Commenting on the thing! Good good good—), it was the worst of times (The Mortifying Ordeal of People Reading and Commenting on the Thing). Time for what every advice site declares a book absolutely must have the moment it’s thrust into the wild.

Reviews, reviews, reviews.

I’ve already bitten several bullets and passed copies out to a handful of fellow scribblers to scrutinize, their reviews destined to be hung up like literary gold stars on their bookselling site of choice, my own included. Now comes my preliminary grovel to readers en masse to please drop a review, a comment, a blurb of any shape or size where you can once The Vampyres drops. I’ve already gotten some early comments that have consisted mostly of screaming. Screams also count as a review.

As an aside, there are two folks in particular who I reached out to who exist in the stratosphere of Coolest People in the Vampiric Lit scene. They promptly exploded me into disbelieving giblets when they told me, yes, they’d be happy to read my little story and offer up a review and a foreword for the book respectively.

I’m not sure what the decorum here is, but for safety (and surprise’s) sake, I’ll not name names. But they are names I’ve been happy to come across for the past two years while neck deep in the undead book club. I’m infinitely grateful to both of them and am waiting on pins, needles, stakes and kukri blades by my inbox so I can pin their words up inside the book itself.

FUTURE SCRIBBLING

To get one of the biggest questions out of the way, let’s talk about Barking Harker.

My very own object lesson on sunk cost fallacy.

I wrote my way through a goddamn cinderblock of text without even grazing the finish line of the first section of the story. A story made of so many convoluted triple-decker layers of subplots and side characters that it had the structural integrity of a monolithic Nature Valley granola bar, just waiting to fall apart under its own weight. Such is the hubris and curse of too-many-words-itis. The Vampyres remains a miraculous fluke, jotted down during an overdue break from BH’s slog. Not just because I tripped and fell into finishing the story, but because it’s comparatively compact! Brevity at last!

For those still craving the assorted gothic and ghoulish promises of the initial novel idea, don’t worry, those aren’t going anywhere. I’ve just crumbled the metaphorical bloodstained granola by my own hand and have done the sane thing of parsing out the various subplots to become the foundations of their own stories. Which they really should have been from the get-go. Insert 100+ clown emojis here.

On that note, I am turning into WIPs Georg over here. Good god.

I hesitate to throw myself all-in again and make promises of X Story that may leave me spinning my mental wheels or ballooning the plot out into a behemoth that can’t be steered back on course. Even so, here’s a peek at a few ideas I currently have on the brain.

So.

Not exactly lacking for stories. It’s just a matter of seeing which of them breaks ahead of the herd and squeezes out into the publication ether first.

LAST BIT  

Blah, blah, requisite reminder that I have a Ko-Fi where you can donate a buck or commission my best attempt at art, blah. Any pennies are a help.

But I’m betting very few of you came around here for my doodles. Somehow, a good amount of people tripped into this pit with me because you enjoy the rambles and horrors I’ve written over the years. Maybe some of you will even buy my book once it’s out. And you, there, on the other side of the screen—you’re reading this right now. You made it all the way to the bottom of this pile of exposition just because you wanted to. So, thank you.

Thank you for reading this far. Thank you for reading before and reading what’s to come. Thank you for giving me the confidence to even consider shouldering my own work out into the wider world.

Thank you.

P.S. If you want to re-read the preview, go here!

#this one is a Big Boy #the vampyres #my writing #my art #horror #the vampyre #dracula #barking harker #Spotify

[diodellet]

Advanced Happy Valentine’s Day, bestie!! For your event, can I pls request Capitano #9, Pantalone #13, and Dottore #20?? I’ll let you decide if you want to attack me with sugar or spice (*´꒳`*)

💌Capitano + Prompt #9 ("When I am with you I am real." (x)

Some days, you find yourself reminiscing about your past. The time before you were brought to Snezhnaya. Those days felt no different from the fairytales you liked to immerse yourself in, at times unpleasant to remember, but ultimately, just a dream. A mere memory. And isn’t that a good thing? To leave your lonely past behind?

Unbeknownst to you, the Captain finds himself caught off-kilter in the precious idyllic moments that he shares with you. The rare light of your smile is warm, a ray of sunlight gently erasing any trace of the ever-present ice that permeated Snezhnaya. And isn’t that a good thing too? To be reminded of his own fallibility as a human, as a man with a cherished lover? No amount of prestige, no title, nor victory could hold as much weight as the simple joy of being able to return to your side.

You’re currently seated in his lap, reading a newly purchased anthology of classic Fontaine fairytales, artfully translated into Snezhnayan. Capitano has one arm around your waist, he has already reached the end of the page. He estimates that you’ll turn to the next one in a few more moments. Or you could just ask him to help you translate that difficult paragraph.

But he won’t overstep.

“...Poor girl,” you whisper, flipping the page and adjusting your hold on the book.

“Why do you say that?” Capitano asks,

“...Isn’t it obvious? She died, cold and hungry. It’s pitiful.” And in that response, there is a note of self-derision.

He can’t disagree with that observation. “That is how she appears to onlookers in the end.” Capitano’s free hand encompasses yours as he helps you hold up the book. “Though one cannot disregard her joy in her final moments, however fleeting it was.” 

Was it so wrong to linger in—no, to savor—this dreamlike reality?

You’re silent for a while, hand resting limply in his. Until he feels your fingertips skim the lines of his palm before loosely entangling with his. “I suppose one cannot.”

💌Pantalone + Prompt #13 ("If soulmates do exist, they’re not found, they’re made."(x) ++mild spice (of the body worship variety) if you squint

It should be a marker of praise, it should make you feel pleased to hear passersby and acquaintances and business associates praising you as the Regrator’s wife. 

And you do, you muster a gracious smile in response. Press yourself against Pantalone’s side and hope that the rest of your body language doesn’t give away the pinprick of nervousness that passes through you.

They sounded just like when you first got engaged. Devoid of well-wishes, a mere platitude.

Your husband is the epitome of grace and propriety, effortlessly redirecting the conversation to the hosts. Asking about their recent vacation and laughing politely at the same anecdotes they’ve rehashed for the third time. 

(Yours, in comparison, sounds weak, strained, fake.)

You feel the slightest reassuring squeeze against your hand. There’s a flicker of something gentle in Pantalone’s gaze as he glances over at you and that’s enough for you to recenter yourself.

It is in the safety of your home that you can let yourself breathe. Only in his touch do you find solace as his partner. It doesn’t matter whether or not you’re completely bare in his company. When he lays his ungloved palms against your body, the buzz of your thoughts and the holes in your memories all fade away.

An amused smile quirks at Pantalone’s lips as he pulls away from the tender kiss you share. You apologize out of reflex.

His expression softens. “No, no need for that, my dear. I was merely… surprised with your sudden affection.”

“You… you’re not mad about a while ago?” 

Pantalone hushes you, stopping your self-admonishment. “The event is already over. You do not have to worry about it anymore.” The rough, callused skin of his hands sends a shiver through your frame. “Will you let me reward you?” he asks.

At your small nod, his touch drifts lower.

Yes, all that mattered was entrusting yourself to him.

💌Dottore + Prompt #20 ("They say we are asleep until we fall in love."(x)

Alongside the lantern’s light, there are fireflies dotting the landscape and edge of the water’s surface. Right in front of you is a Nilotpala Lotus in full bloom under the moonlight. This specimen isn’t as large as its neighbors, but there’s something in the gentle glow that it emits…

“You were supposed to return ten minutes ago.” A sharp voice calls from behind you.

“Gah!” In your surprise, your pencil drops into the water. Shame coating your expression, you turn to face Dottore. Whatever excuse you had prepared dies in your throat. 

“...Well?” He isn’t donning his Fatui mask. 

“I already completed my other objectives…” And you got a bit nostalgic on the way back to the lab. Which was half-true, surprisingly. Returning to the rainforests of Sumeru ended up becoming more pleasant than you expected.

“...Hm. I did not think you would be so keen on revisiting Nilotpala lotuses.” Dottore muses, somehow your sketchpad had transferred into his hands.

“Hey—those aren’t finished!” And even as you protest, your superior easily dodges your attempts to grab it back. “They’re just some useless doodles!”

At that, Dottore lightly taps the back of your sketchpad against the top of your head. “I will be the judge of that, my dear assistant.”

This felt no different from the all-nighters you used to spend with Zandik. Trailing after him like a dog as he marked your notes, inevitably submitting to the call of the night and letting him hear out your worries, and of course, the brief moment of complete lucidity, fatigue siphoned from your bones, feeling like you were the sole inhabitants of the world.

“Your attention to detail is exquisite,” he remarks in a soft voice, lightly tracing the lines of your sketch with a finger, careful not to smudge the graphite.

Your annoyance wanes, leaving warmth in its absence. “Thanks…” You glance back at the blossom, small but humming with light. An insignificant, inconsequential part of nature, yet utterly free and alive.

You’ve never been more glad to bear witness.

a/n: AHIHI HAPPY VALENTINES DAY BESTIE!! i hope i did the darlings and the fatchooey harbingers justice with dis meager writing, augh... u jus had to pick the prompts that were most free to interpret 🥴🥴 (thus i have chosen to attack with sugar and spice HA!)

#dellet-writings #dellet-asks #jessamine-rose #capitano x reader #pantalone x reader #dottore x reader #fem!reader #genshin impact x reader

[witch-hazels-musings]

love professed

warning: sfw, fluff (kissing) | premise: how they hold your face when they kiss you & what their lips feel like (headcannons) 

includes: albedo, alhaitham, ayato, baizhu, childe, diluc, itto, kaeya, kazuha, kaveh, thoma, scara, tignari, xiao, zhongli 

character x gn reader |  anthology

how they hold your face when kissing -- 

cheek, jaw, etc. with one or both hands

thoma, itto, zhongli, kaveh, diluc, kaeya, albedo 

he wants to hold you in his hands, each palm against your face is a way to protect you, shield you from everything else. this touch is an overwhelming reflection of his love for you

one hand or two its all the same -- it can be fun, filled with laughter as he draws you in or tender, reverence surrounding you as your lips collide - quick or lengthy, he doesn’t care; each and every one are perfect 

the back of your head 

diluc, kazuha, alhaitham, thoma, childe, kaeya

he can’t stop himself - not when it comes to you. his hand slides to the back of your head sending shivers up his arm as he pulls you toward him. he doesn’t want you to leave - not yet, not when he’s finally found you

he likes to see your face, eyes closed, waiting, as his fingers push against your head, as his free hand finds the bend in your back or your bottom lip as you breathe to steady yourself. he hovers, completely smitten until he can’t wait any longer 

your chin 

childe, scara, ayato, kaeya, baizhu, diluc

it makes his heart pound. from the snarky shake he gives you as he grips your chin, pushes your cheeks together to make your lips pucker, to the surprise in your eyes when he lifts, pushes your face up so he can look at you - all of you - don’t hide from him

his smile is missed when you close your eyes but he’s sure you can feel it when he presses his lips to yours - can you also feel his undying love flowing through his fingers and into your skin? can you feel him --- 

your hand, rest against your forehead

albedo, xiao, tighnari, zhongli, thoma

he’s reserved. making sure this moment is accepted, private - he won’t kiss you in public, but if he does the fingers he wraps around your hand are a request. a ‘if you’ll have me,’ sort of plea as he waits for your reply with a squeeze of your hand

the touch of his forehead to yours is a pull of courage. wanting to feel you, be grounded by you before he tilts his head to make the connection - one he never imagine he’d find in his long, solitary 

how their lips feel --

full, chapped, but so warm

diluc, childe, itto, kazuha

his kiss is overpowering. heavy, impatience laced with every press of his lips to your own. you can’t breathe but you don’t mind - you part your lips and welcome him in. you have know idea the affect it has on him. he seems demanding, pulling your close, pressing in harder; it’s your fault he’s become incoherent at the taste 

each kiss feels hot against your lips. his are dry; from being outside and taking little time to care for his own needs, but the texture makes your body shiver - he asks for another, and another, each time his lips grow warmer, gentler as if they are adjusting to not hurt you, as if they are being hydrated by you. he’s carnivorous and you are his first, last, and every meal 

slender, posh and cool to the touch 

kaeya, alhaitham, ayato, baizhu, zhongli

there’s an alluring, amorous sensation when you kiss him. the sudden touch of cool as if you are being kissed by the dew the of morning - calm, mysterious, rejuvenating. there’s caution in the connection but only for a second - a curious pause before diving in. he’s got experience but doesn’t mind letting you catch up 

his lips have a hint of a smirk - even when his face is relaxed. they are firm, fine - making you question if he kissed you at all. you’ll pull away to see if he’s mocking you only to find his eyes glassy and greedy, begging you to return for more. and you do because those icy lips feel like velvet and you yearn to be shaped by them 

narrow, firm, and a bit clumsy 

xiao, scaramouche, tighnari

his kisses a laced with hesitancy. they are hard, helpless as they connect with yours until the innocent kiss turns into an impatient and insatiable one - you’ve invited him in, offered an invitation he struggles to refuse. after all this time alone -- what have you done to him? 

his lips feel wet; at times you wonder if he’s tucked them in but as the kiss goes on they become more prominent - searching, seeking as if he’s lost in the dark unsure where you’ve gone. you cup his face and he steadies. these kisses are stubborn, starving, that when you break away he’s breathless and you can’t help but go back in; unsatisfied 

soft, warm, helplessly thoughtful 

thoma, albedo, kaveh

kissable, these lips are that and more. loveable connections that make your heart pound, skin burn. gentle kisses that leave you giddy and greedy. like the setting sun, you run toward the horizon knowing that once you catch it you’ll feel alive again - he’s pliable - but, as he opens his eyes to check in, take stock in what's in front of him, he realizes ... so are you 

its like kissing a ‘just out of the oven’ loaf of bread. sweet and savory; the heat spreads from your lips until it reaches your ears. there’s something tantalizing about him, the taste of him, you lean in for more and he catches you. these lips are proficient, provocative, moving exactly the way you need them too until the two of you break away and fall into a fit of embarrassed laughter - these lips have never known such joy 

#hazels works #genshin impact #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin comfort #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #Albedo #albedo x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x gn reader #genshin alhaitham #genshin ayato #ayato x gn reader #childe x gn reader #diluc x gn reader #itto x gn reader #kaeya x gn reader #kazuha x gn reader #kaveh x gn reader #genshin kaveh #thoma x gn reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x gn reader #tignari x gn reader #xiao x gn reader #zhongli x gn reader