#it has been way too long since i posted actual excerpts so i am out of practice

[you-are-my-neverland]

[id: a header with a deep blue gray background. in the center, there is a circular photograph of a lighthouse. behind the photo is a monoline sun, eclipsed by the photo. in block text across the center reads ‘the metamorphosis of the lost: an update’ / end id]

it’s been a while since i’ve done one of these, but my writing has been going pretty well these past couple of weeks, so while i prepare other content (re: character intros (!!!). in 2022, i’ve managed to cobble together act iii: relapse, which was written over the course of the spring semester. i also, more recently, started act iv: revolution, and that’s going by nicely, especially as i strive to meet my daily word goals (hello, excel spreadsheet). 

anyways, in honor of having a taglist with more than one person on it, i’ve decided to post a few excerpts, which i haven’t really done for this wip lol. 

all words + the taglist will be under the cut for length purposes.

i. the red saint & her shadow. 

(an interaction between june and india from the beginning of act iii. a/n: this was written at the beginning of the year. writing them currently, i really feel like i’m missing something from their dynamic, so i’ve been rereading this scene a lot lol.)

Belladonna was quiet, her face slightly pinched beneath the domino. 

“If you didn’t have to,” she started. “Then why did you?”

“How could I not?” India said, and it sounded too honest, too vulnerable, even to her own ears, as if it was painfully obvious she was revealing some hidden part of herself to someone else. “Back then, I believed they were helping the city. When I was younger, I used to scoff at the idea of vigilantes and heroes, but after a while, after seeing it firsthand, I did become convinced that I could change things for the better for someone else. It gave me a drive for the first time in my life. Instead of just trying to survive for no particular reason, I could do something about it.”

“Yes, I was young. Fifteen. All the people I know started out younger.” She paused, thinking carefully over how to formulate her next thought. “Someone I knew used to always say that we can’t help what happened to us, or what it turns us into, but we can try and change ourselves once we see our own reflection. We can make things clearer. We can use what we see as flaws to do better. I grew up in the South District. I was an orphan. I learned how to hurt other people to protect myself. I never thought about justice because I never thought it was something I could control.”

Until now. Until then.

India hated to think that Vin had given her anything, but he had. He had given her power for the first time in her life, had allowed her to write her own destiny, decide how she wanted to do things, more so than anyone else had ever before.

It was what had blinded her, in the end. Believing that following someone else’s cause was her own. India had been beholden just as everyone else was; that was why she had been benched. She just hadn’t realized it, how trapped she actually was.

Now she was free. Now no one could tell her what to do. Now India was allowed to decide what was right and wrong and act on it. 

No more changing herself. No more being told to be better, be different, be someone else, someone they thought was more than whatever she was, a South District orphan born and raised on the rocks, unable to outgrow her own edges for fear of how unprotected it would leave her. India might not love her roots, but they were hers, in the end. She had come from this city. She was Kevlan, through and through. 

ii. flame & phantom

(another excerpt from act iii. emrys and mika go patrolling after finding out india is alive as the red saint, but are unable to save a woman’s life. a/n: somehow, a lot of tmotl ended up being emrys’ story, which i can’t say i mind. her pov is a lot of complicated thoughts most of the time.)

She had said she could do this. She had sounded so cool and confident, too. Emrys had been proud of herself, for being able to stand up for what she wanted. The rest of the conversation hadn’t gone as well, but she hadn’t let herself be shut down. Not this time. 

Now, she thought that they probably had a point, about her. Maybe she couldn’t do this.

Maybe she could.

Maybe both thoughts were equally terrible.

“I’m going to find India,” she announced. The flames licked at the edges of the jacket, already crinkling, the outer layer peeling away as the cloth beneath caught more easily, the fire dancing up into the sky with a bright shower of sparks that had her flinching back and shielding her face. The embers fell to the ground around Mika’s feet, burning and burning and then burning out.

Mika didn’t say anything. Emrys glanced at him coolly, and found him looking away from her. Fine by her. She didn’t care if he approved or not; better he didn’t notice she was gone at all, until she could clear more space.

Emrys waited another few seconds just to be sure, ignoring the part of her that whispered that she should check on him, make sure he was okay, but this was Mika. He was never not okay. Nothing fazed him, and no one. 

She sighed, staring down at her own feet, battered and bruised through the white of the ballet flats. There were drops of blood scattered along the seams, which bothered her now that she had noticed; she couldn’t stop focusing on it, the innocuous drops in no pattern except the one she conjured.

Mika still hadn’t said anything. Emrys looked at the embers of the jacket, then turned to scan the skyline, wondering where she could start, the wind whipping through her body and helping to pull her seams apart with vicious, grabby hands.

The abandoned warehouse, she thought. The place where India had died. She should start there, right? If there was going to be anything anywhere, it would be there. Maybe a clue to India’s resurrection, even. 

Emrys started to walk without even really thinking about it, setting forward at a determined pace, quickening as she got further and further away from the fire, and getting colder and colder. Without her jacket, much of the skin of her body was bare to the winds, her tank top protective but not warm. Kevla had vicious winters, so the fall became crueler as the months went by.  

She had turned the corner by the time she heard the footsteps behind her, not clattering or loud, but soft and steady, a quiet, rhythmic thump that belayed Mika grabbing her arm and grinding them both to a halt as he slowed, clothes and hair settling back down on his body as gravity descended.

“Let me go,” she said, white knuckled.

Mika let her go. Emrys turned to move, and he tripped her. It was only years of getting used to falling that had her catching herself with a half-dance of steps, turning so that they were facing one another.

“Enough of this,” Mika said. His eyes were burning. She could hear the quiet sounds of him breathing, harsher than normal.

“No,” she said. “I told you. I’m going to find India.”

“And Crow and X-le told us not to,” Mika said.

Emrys scoffed. “Like you’re the poster child for following orders.”

“Enough,” Mika repeated. “We’re either finishing patrol or going home.”

Another Emrys would have been happy that he used the word home, but this Emrys was feeling vicious and vengeful and torn up inside.

“I don’t want to,” she said spitefully. 

“Flame,” Mika said, the warning clear. 

“You’re my partner, not my boss,” Emrys said scornfully.

“I’m not either of those things,” Mika hissed, stepping closer. “I’m just the person making sure you don’t fuck anything up.”

That hurt. Emrys didn’t flinch, and was absurdly proud of herself for growing thicker skin in the time since a few hours ago. She was getting better and better at it.

“I didn’t ask you to do that!” she burst out. “You’re the one that followed me to begin with. I never asked for your help.”

“But you needed it,” Mika said, and though she couldn’t see his mouth, she could picture the small, cruel tilt of his half smile. She had to narrow her eyes to stop tears from falling, already feeling them well up in her eyes, like she was some weak and pathetic person who couldn’t keep it together.

“I’m going to look for India,” she repeated. “You can go home if you want.”

iii. sunrise after the fall gala

(an interaction between india and june in the aftermath of the fall gala (which takes up the majority of the beginning of act iv) and india’s ill thought out confrontation with the black saint. a/n: more recent writing and a more recent interaction between these two. act iv has been a mess lol.)

The laugh slid off India’s face.

“You can’t create something from nothing,” she said savagely. “I imagine that not even Catrin Flint can save someone who was burned alive.”

“Someone could,” June replied steadily.

“Then maybe it was Kevla herself,” India remarked sarcastically, rising to her feet and gritting her teeth against the spasm her leg sent.

“You’re really not curious?” June asked, also standing. The morning air nipped at her cheeks, the rosy glow of the rising sun starting to cascade over the skyline ahead of them. 

India shrugged carelessly. “It’s not that I’m not,” she said. “It’s just that it doesn’t matter. Or, it didn’t.”

June eyed her, pondering the words. In a way, that was understandable. June herself tried to care as little as possible pertaining to the motive of The Organization or the Benefactor. Motivation didn’t matter in the end. It was the actions that did.

They were both women of action, though they went about it very differently.

“Will I be hearing from you soon?” India asked after a second. 

June looked at her, parsing her thoughts.

India raised an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, we were kind of in on this together, right? This whole revenge scheme, or whatever you want to call it,” she hurriedly corrected after June coolly raised an eyebrow at the words “revenge scheme.”

June considered her. “Yes,” she said after a pause. “We are.”

India smiled. It transformed her face beneath the domino, softening the edges. India, June had found, often bared her teeth, but rarely smiled.

“I’m a comm away,” she said, sounding almost pleasant and energized at the prospect.

“I might take you up on that soon,” June said.

“Not gonna kiss and tell then?” India replied. “Just going to string me along.”

June surprised herself by the sharp half laugh that bubbled out of her.

“You’ve been helpful,” she said instead of replying, doubting that she could match India’s newfound wittiness. She had always had a sense of humor, even as a child. June was used to being the dour, serious one. Now she was the serrated blade, cold as steel and just as harsh. “Thank you.”

India sobered, looking at her as if she was an alien before she managed a stiff and slightly unsure, “You’re welcome.”

“Take care of yourself,” June added. “I don’t want to find you dead in a ditch before you can be useful.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” India replied sarcastically, but they had talked enough times for June to pick up the undercurrent of fondness with which she said it. “Take care, Belladonna.” She gave June a two fingered salute, and June found herself returning her impression of it before she could stop herself.

India smiled, and then she was sauntering off into the darkness, only a slight limp in her step and the helmet tucked under her arm any indication of what had gone down only hours previously.

June smiled privately to herself. India was wearing off on her.

taglist (scream to be added or removed!):  @cannivalisms   @sunshineomeara @thepixiediaries @muddshadow

#wip: tmotl #writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #creative writing #writing excerpts #wip: the metamorphosis of the lost #sorry this is so long but i just couldn't cut them #act iv has like nothing i want to share so far i'll literally cry about it sigh #also: mika and emrys have a sibling relationship. before anyone asks #ik how their interactions could be taken out of context like here but they are in no way romantic #just to clear that up #i miss india and june...my girlies... #act iii was kind of good for something i wrote over like five months while studying for exams and starting work lol #and now it's just like ??? #anyways thanks for taking the time to read #it has been way too long since i posted actual excerpts so i am out of practice

[writcraft]

WIP 7 Line Game

Rules: Share 7 (or more) lines of a WIP you've been working on.

I was tagged ages ago by @danpuff-ao3 when I didn't have 7 lines of WIP to share. Now I do (yay!), from a Ron/Harry I am writing for @sitp-recs. This is a fill for a prompt call I put out for my fandomversary. I'm having a blast writing for the prompts I received, I have a bunch of rec posts in process and I have just had to give myself a bit of an extension on the actual timing of it all (standard) <3

Excerpt from 'Can't Start a Fire Without a Spark' (Ron Weasley/Harry Potter)

It’s bloody annoying. The itch and crawl of it. It’s been so long since Ron has been jealous of Harry. So long. He hates the way it’s been creeping back lately, making his skin feel like it’s too tight for his body. The problem is, it’s not that he wants to be Harry. The thought of fucking Nott makes him want to take a long, cold shower. He just doesn’t want to hear about handsome men, with all their money and charm. He doesn’t want to hear about stupid, feckless dickheads who couldn’t give a damn about Harry when Ron is right here.

Ron is right here.

Merlin’s tits. It’s a mess and half, is what it is.

I will tag @danpuff-ao3 (a tag from a tag? lol), @candybarrnerd, @teacup-tai, @magicalrocketships, @the-starryknight, @lqtraintracks and @perverse-idyll plus anyone else who cares to share <3

#rarry #ronarry #idk the portmanteau #ron x harry #writ fandomversary

[whimsicaldragonette]

Blog Tour and Arc Review: The Lily of Ludgate Hill by Mimi Matthews

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Publication Date: January 16, 2024

Welcome to The Lily of Ludgate Hill book tour with Berkley Publishing Group. (This blog tour post is also posted on my Wordpress book blog Whimsical Dragonette.)

Synopsis:

Lady Anne Deveril doesn’t spook easily. A woman of lofty social standing known for her glacial beauty and starchy opinions, she’s the unofficial leader of her small group of equestriennes. Since her mother’s devastating plunge into mourning six years ago, Anne voluntarily renounced any fanciful notions of love and marriage. And yet, when fate puts Anne back into the entirely too enticing path of Mr. Felix Hartford, she’s tempted to run…right into his arms. No one understands why Lady Anne withdrew into the shadows of society, Hart least of all. The youthful torch he once held for her has long since cooled. Or so he keeps telling himself. But now Anne needs a favor to help a friend. Hart will play along with her little ruse—on the condition that Anne attend a holiday house party at his grandfather’s country estate. No more mourning clothes. No more barriers. Only the two of them, unrequited feelings at last laid bare. Finally free to gallop out on her own, Anne makes the tantalizing discovery that beneath the roguish exterior of her not-so-white knight is a man with hidden depths, scorching passions—and a tender heart.

Author Bio:

USA Today bestselling author Mimi Matthews writes both historical nonfiction and award-winning Victorian romances. Her novels have received starred reviews in Publishers Weekly, Library Journal, Booklist, Kirkus, and Shelf Awareness, and her articles have been featured on the Victorian Web, the Journal of Victorian Culture, and in syndication at BUST Magazine. In her other life, Mimi is an attorney. She resides in California with her family, which includes a retired Andalusian dressage horse, a Sheltie, and two Siamese cats. Learn more online at www.mimimatthews.com.

Author Photo Credit: Vicki Hahn

Rating: ★★★★

*My Review, Favorite Quotes, and Non-Exclusive Extract below the cut.

My Review:

I loved this. It was exactly the sort of banter-filled stubborn hero and heroine who are gone for each other but refuse to admit it story that I love. It's easily the best of the Belles of London series. Anne and Hartford are perfect for each other but it takes them a while to admit it. The only problem I had with it was that it was *extremely* predictable. I knew exactly how it was going to go from the beginning and there was no deviating from that. I actually stopped about 75% of the way through and checked goodreads to make sure I hadn't already read it before. I hadn't. And yet I had predicted every. single. thing that happened. It was like deja vu but more so. The last quarter unfolded exactly as I expected it to. I don't know if the foreshadowing was just really intense or what but that did lessen my enjoyment of the story. Aside from that, however, everything else was exactly as I like in a historical romance. I am curious about the next one, as well, after meeting who will obviously be the new wheelchair-bound, artist hero. I have high hopes because neither of those is something we typically get in a romance hero. *Thanks to NetGalley and Berkley for providing an early copy for review.

Favorite Quotes:

"I wish I were more eccentric," Anne declared, rousing her spirits to the cause. "I might have traveled to Yorkshire weeks ago and saved Julia from her fate."

Non-Exclusive Excerpt:

The twin fragrances of pipe smoke and parchment met her nose. Lemon polish, too, though there was no sign that the maids had done any recent tidying up. The library was a place of spectacular clutter. Bookcases lined three of the walls; leather-bound volumes on botany, agriculture, and natural history were pulled out at all angles as if an absent-minded researcher had wandered from shelf to shelf withdrawing tomes at random only to change his mind midway through extracting them. The fourth wall was entirely covered in framed sketches of flowers and greenery. Some images were produced in pencil and others in delicately rendered watercolor. They were-along with the teetering stacks of botanical journals and drooping maps that spilled over the sides of the earl's carved mahogany desk-evidence of his prevailing passion. Lord March's love of exotic plants was legendary. He'd spent much of his life traveling the globe, from the wilds of America to the highest peaks of the Himalayas, bringing back rare seeds to nurture into bloom. A distracted fellow at the best of times, but a kind one, too, as far as Anne recalled. It had been a long time since she'd darkened his doorstep. A lifetime, it felt like. She tugged restlessly at her black kid-leather gloves as she paced the worn carpet in front of the library's cavernous marble fireplace. She'd never excelled at waiting for unpleasantness to arrive. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long. "Hello, old thing." A familiar deep voice sounded from the library door. Anne spun around, her traitorous heart giving an involuntary leap in her breast. Mr. Felix Hartford stood in the entryway, one shoulder propped against the doorframe. Lord only knew how long he'd been observing her. She stiffened. After all these years, he still had the power to discompose her. Drat him. But she wouldn't permit her emotions to be thrown into chaos by his attractive face and figure. What cared she for his commanding height? His square-chiseled jaw? For the devilish glint in his sky-blue eyes? And devil he was. The very one she'd come here to see. "Hartford," she said. Her chin ticked up a notch in challenge. It was a reflex. There was no occasion on which they'd met during the course of the past several years that they hadn't engaged in verbal battle. This time, however, he made no attempt to engage her. He was dressed in plaid trousers and a loose-fitting black sack coat worn open to reveal the dark waistcoat beneath. A casual ensemble, made more so by the state of him. His clothes were vaguely rumpled, and so was his seal-brown hair. It fell over his brow, desperately in need of an application of pomade. There was an air of arrested preoccupation about him, as if he'd just returned from somewhere or was on his way to somewhere. As if he hadn't realized she was in the library and had come upon her quite by chance. An unnatural silence stretched between them, void of their typical barb-filled banter. Greetings dispensed with, Anne found herself at an unaccountable loss. More surprising still, so did Hartford. He remained frozen on the threshold, his usually humorous expression turned to stone on his handsome face. At length, he managed a smile. "I knew one day you'd walk through my door again. It only took you"-withdrawing his pocket watch from his waistcoat, he cast it a brief glance, brows lifting as if in astonishment at the time-"seven years to do it." She huffed. "It hasn't been seven years." "Six and half, then." Six years and five months, more like. It had been early December of 1855, during the Earl of March's holiday party. She'd been just shy of seventeen; young and naive and not formally out yet. Hartford had kissed her under a sprig of mistletoe in the gaslit servants' hallway outside the kitchens. And he'd proposed to her.

But Anne refused to think of the past. Never mind that, living in London, reminders of it were daily shoved under her nose. "You're not going to be difficult, are you?" she asked. "That depends." He strolled into the room. "To what do I owe your visit?" "Presumptuous, as always," she said. "For all you know, I'm here to see your grandfather." Hartford was the only child of the Earl of March's second son-the late (and much lamented) moralist Everett Hartford. Anne well remembered the man. He'd been as straitlaced and starchy as a vicar. Rather ironic, really, given his son's reputation for recklessness and irreverence. "My grandfather is in his greenhouse," Hartford said, "elbow deep in chicken manure. If it's him you've come to speak with, you're in for a long wait." She suppressed a grimace. There was no need for him to be crass. "Really, Hartford." "Really, my lady." He advanced into the room slowly, his genial expression doing little to mask the fact that he was a great towering male bearing down on her. "Why have you come?" Anne held her ground. She wasn't afraid of him. "I've come to ask a favor of you." His mouth curled up at one corner. "Better and better." He gestured to a stuffed settee upholstered in Gobelins tapestry. "Pray sit down."

Excerpted from The Lily of Ludgate Hill by Mimi Matthews Copyright © 2024 by Mimi Matthews. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

#shilo reads #blog tour #berkley romance #historical romance #regency romance #netgalley #arc review #book review #romance #mimi matthews #the lily of ludgate hill #belles of london

[safyresky]

🆕 Crystal Springs Chapter 30: "What Comes Next" now up on ao3/ff dot net!

Chapter 30: What Comes Next

Jacqueline wakes up; Jack fixes the Dome. With everything all but wrapped up, what comes next?

ao3 | ff dot net

you guys...she's finished.

Crystal Springs is actually, honest to goodness, FINISHED. THIS IS THE LAST HECKING CHAPTER! I AM BALLING IN THE CLUB RIGHT NOW!

Please, take my humble excerpt while I SOB UNCONTROLLABLY--

Bright. It was bright. It had been so, so dark and now it was so, so bright. Why was it so bright? She cracked open her eyes. Bright. Blurry. Sunlight. Water. Humid air. Blue eyes. “…Jack?” A sharp inhale. “Oh, darling. I’m so, so sorry.” “Momma?” She was being crushed. Her tummy hurt. Momma was sniffling. “But where’s…where’s Jack?” She tightened her hold. She didn’t reply. This was wrong. It was bright out. Too bright. But it wasn’t the right kind of bright. She closed her eyes tightly. Opened them again. Squinted. It was bright. Way too bright. Artificial bright. She groaned, turning her head to the side. Blue eyes. “…Jack?” “Jacqueline?” On the edge of his seat, Jack watched as Jacqueline’s eyes finally opened—only to immediately shut tight once more as she winced at the bright light. She groaned. Wrinkled her nose. Her eyes popped open again, blues meeting blues. She blinked. Smiled. “You are here.” “Welcome back, little flurry.”

THIS IS MY FAVOURITE PART OF THE WHOLE THING I AM A MESS! AND I HAVE NOBODY TO BLAME BUT MYSELF!

So, indeed. What DOES come next? Read on at ao3 and ff dot net to find out!

Want to start from the top and read it ALL IN ONE GO, NOW? You can do that HERE on ao3 and HERE on ff dot net! I think it's time for a new pinned post now, lol.

Story summary and chapter musings below the cut!

It’s been almost a year since Jack Frost thawed and things are looking…well, not so great. Jack’s powers are seemingly gone. Without them, the Dome that keeps the North Pole safe from the cold and its magic controlled is melting, putting everything and everyone magical at risk. Unable to hide his power shortage any longer, Jack is forced to admit the truth. Thankfully, there is a solution: enacting the Legate Law, bringing Jack and the sister that he hurt so many centuries ago back together again. But when Jacqueline starts experiencing destructive blackouts, the pair are forced to head back home to Crystal Springs, bringing Jack face to face with the rest of the family. Needless to say, between getting his powers back, helping his sister figure out what in the FROST those blackouts even were, reconciling with his parents, meeting the two even younger siblings he didn’t even KNOW he had, NOT TO MENTION the ancient threat that’s had it out for the ENTIRE Frost family finally making a move? Saving Christmas (regrettably) is looking to be a little bit…complicated.

And there we have it! After way too many years, Crystal Springs is done! Again again! TBH it's probably a GOOD thing I paused halfway through rewriting--my writing has gotten muchas better and I don't think the story would be as lovely as it is now if I HADN'T taken a huge long ass pause from round 2 for a haute minute!

So, here's what's 🆕 This Chapter:

Kept the sillies but made them FLOW better

Since Fino got a whole ass bonding scene with Jack a couple chapters back, the Elfirmary scene went to Fiera instead, and it is LOVELY. It worked out well! She surprised me a BUNCH!

Lucy is in character now :) Love to see it :)

WORD COUNT!!!!!!

And I think that's about it!

OG 2014 Edition: 7,114k words

NEW 202X Edition: 15,387k ish words

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting and creating with me! I really hope that Crystal Springs is as delightful a read as it was to write 🥰🥰

In the meantime! Here's what we can expect to see from the CS-Universe:

Frostmas making it's way over to ao3 monthly! Complete with minor edits for a fresh ✨GLOW UP✨

Smile Shots creeping over there

NEW Smile Shots creeping up over here

The usual scrimblies

Into the Shadows musings? We'll see. She's a little disjointed rn but will be sO FUN once I've got all the threads connected 🥳🥳

And thank you from the very bottom of my heart for coming along on this ride with me! And the asks and the art--all of it has been so, so amazing and SO lovely to see! I cannot tell you all how happy my heart is knowing these lil fucks (affectionate) have resonated with you all, too 🧡💙🤍💖

#dani writes #long post #the santa clause #the santa clause 3 #fanfic #ocs #crystal springs #tsc jack frost #tsc #tsc3 #cs updates #cs on ao3 #cs posting #I CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR WHAT READERS THOUGHT! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU ALL THINK OF THIS EPIC CONCLUSION!!! #Well. chill conclusion #nothing CRAZY going on this chapter #aside from WORD LENGTH and the HORRENDOUS AMOUNT OF CHARACTERS #can't wait for when its TRIPLES that amount :) :) xO

[callioope]

I'm this close to finishing the first draft of my rebelcaptain fencing AU... yes, I know I've been saying that since NaNoWriMo 2020. My new year's resolution for 2023 is to finish and post it!

In the meantime, here's a brief summary, a link to the snippet from chapter one, and a snippet from chapter two.

Description: A rising star in youth fencing, Jyn Erso was once on track to become an Olympic-level athlete. But then, age 16, she quit unexpectedly. Her break from fencing unraveled her life. Three years later, she still refuses to discuss the subject, even with her father, a former Olympic medalist, and her best friend, Bodhi, who’s just returned from competing in the Olympics. It’s fine, it’s working – until she meets Cassian Andor, the kindest, most interesting person she’s ever met. Except for one problem: he’s also an Olympic-level fencer. 

Excerpt from chapter two:

Jyn crosses her arms and waits. She’s elbow to elbow with strangers in the crowded cafe she and Bodhi chose for their weekly lunch. It’s not normally this popular, but it seems the dreary weather has convinced everyone and their mother that a cup of soup sounds quite nice.

Sighing, she glances over her shoulder, towards the filled seating where Bodhi has aggressively commandeered a table. He waves when she catches his eyes. She smiles back, but then looks past him, at the gray sky and gathering water droplets on the windows. 

The days trudge along, minutes dragging like hours. It’s been two weeks since she scampered like a coward from Cassian’s home, from a well-cooked meal, from hope and possibility. Sometimes, she thinks she sees him passing on the street or in the hallway, and she ducks into an alcove or a classroom. Saw would be ashamed. That thought does nothing to help, merely reminds her why she’s in this mess in the first place. 

“Order for Erso!” 

She jolts back to the present, sees an employee place their order on the counter: a tray for Jyn’s meal, a tray for Bodhi’s, and two drinks. If only Bodhi hadn’t needed to stake out a table; now she’s stuck trying to balance it all.

“You seem like you’re carrying a lot.”

Turning, she sees her English professor. “Hi, Professor Malbus. My friend went to save a seat.”

He nods. “Chirrut’s doing the same.”

“Well, it’s good to see you.” Jyn moves towards the seating area, but her professor keeps talking.

“While you’re here,” he starts. It sounds ominous, and it occurs to Jyn that had her food been called just twenty seconds earlier, perhaps she could have avoided this conversation entirely.  “I wanted to talk to you about your last paper.”

“Oh.” Yeah, bad feeling justified. 

“I appreciate you handing it in early,” he says. The writing takes her mind off things. “But it seems a little rushed. You still have time before the deadline, if you want to take another stab at it.”

His phrasing pierces her a little more pointedly than he probably realizes. Am I really this sensitive to it after all this time? What doesn’t help is that she’d actually spent quite a bit of time mulling over that assignment. 

“Of course, professor.” 

He frowns. “I’m sorry — you’re busy. Let’s talk it over in my office hours next week.”

“Thanks.”

Her steps might be a little heavier as she leaves the counter area and winds her way through the seating, but at least she’s pretty sure they wouldn’t qualify as outright stomping. 

At least this day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

Midway through the seating, she realizes she has no idea where she’s going, and she looks around again for Bodhi.

And instead, she finds Cassian.

Never think it can’t get worse, she reminds herself.

In fact, Cassian is, for some reason, talking to Bodhi, so at least she’s succeeded in locating her final destination. 

She stands there staring for far too long, other customers bumping past her, until Cassian glances away from Bodhi just for a second, just long enough to accidentally meet her gaze. 

She wonders if she looks as caught off guard as he does. 

Bodhi follows Cassian’s gaze. “Oh, finally!”

His words jumpstart her mind, and she covers the remaining distance between them. 

During that time, her mind screams, “How the hell do you two know each other!”

But instead, she says, “Sorry for the wait.”

“It’s fine,” they both answer her, although Cassian’s sounds a little less sincere.

All three of them frown. Bodhi and Cassian glance back and forth between each other and her in confusion.

Slightly faster on the uptake — she did have a split second advantage — Jyn places Bodhi’s food in front of him, all the while avoiding the intensity of Cassian’s gaze. “So,” she says, staring at her seat but not getting into it, “how do you two know each other?” 

“I — we — what?” Bodhi says. He shakes his head as if to shake his thoughts loose. “He’s our bronze medalist in epee.” 

Jyn’s eyes widen, but it shouldn’t be that shocking. She had remembered he’d taken gold at that Junior Olympics all those years ago. Just because she left fencing behind didn’t mean everyone did. Bodhi, after all, had stuck with it.

Before she can respond, Cassian says, “Wait, how do you two know each other?”

Both Jyn and Bodhi hesitate. And then Bodhi sends Jyn a look that somehow manages to be both apologetic and defiant, and says, “We used to train together under Saw Gerrera.”

Cassian meets her wide-eyed gaze with his own. “You’re… Jyn Erso?”

Sighing, she settles into the seat next to Bodhi. “Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Wrong f-word.”

His gaze bores into hers, like he’s trying to figure her out. She thinks — she hopes — that maybe he has enough information to understand why she ran, since she hasn’t been able to find the words to explain it. 

“Well…” he finally says. “I should go.”

“No one’s going anywhere,” Bodhi says, and they both jerk guiltily toward him, “until we get to the bottom of this.”

That wasn’t the line, Jyn thinks inanely. But Bodhi thinks as fast as either of them, maybe faster, and apparently has no need to ask the same question a third time.

When he doesn’t continue, Jyn says warily, “There’s no … bottom… Bodhi…”

“Yes, there is, and you both are stuck in it.” 

She looks down at her food, pokes her salad with her fork.

“It’s fine,” Cassian says. “You don’t need to—”

“Sit!”

Startled into compliance, Cassian sits. Despite everything, Jyn smirks. Cassian, it would seem, is less familiar with Bodhi’s determined “I will aggressively logic you into happiness” routine. It really only works because disappointing him is literally the worst feeling in the world, worse even than losing a fencing bout had been, once upon a time. And that’s really saying something because she wasn’t the most gracious loser.

“You’re miserable,” he starts, pointing at Jyn with his own fork, “because you haven’t seen that photographer chef since that date two weeks ago. You know, the one where you were all, ‘this is the best date I’ve ever been on’…”

“Whoa.” Jyn’s eyes dart nervously between Bodhi and Cassian. “I didn’t say it like —”

“And you’re miserable,” Bodhi says, turning to Cassian, “because the last date you went on, two weeks ago, the awesome writer undergrad you met left early and hasn’t returned your calls.”

“If she’s not interested,” Cassian says, without looking up from the table, “that’s not her fault.”

Jyn winces like he just thrust his sword into her heart. 

Of course, it would seem that she’d struck him first.

#rebelcaptain #jyn x cassian #rogue one #jyn erso #cassian andor #my writing #rebelcaptain fencing au #wip #work in progress

[bucketwritingpail]

For your ask game:

Whats closeted imperfection? 👀

I am so glad you asked

Closeted imperfection is an on and off again project of mine that I started eons ago in middle school. Originally, it was a webcomic, but it never actually got past the first chapter (despite there being at least two iterations of that first chapter). Recently though, I've been writing various scenes, but have yet to actually post any of that writing because it's in a physical notebook and I haven't had the time to transcribe it.

The story follows a girl named Sage Elizabeth Annahearn, (Her backstory is pretty much Little Miss Perfect by Taylor Louderman), whose feeling a lot of stress and burnout from being literally perfect all the time and basically being a showhorse for her parents. Then she meets Daisy.

Daisy is a dancer. She also immediately falls so so hard for Sage, and, upon finding out how terribly socially inept this girl is, takes it upon herself to show Sage the best of life and the beauty of existing without having to be perfect.

The story also boasts other characters that I love very much. Such as Cami (gender fluid and aroace. Is a writer and artist such as myself. All around cool person.), Kai (Sage's best friend before the events of the story, also technically Daisy's "boyfriend" >they're just platonic besties and he had been known to make out with her twin brother Desmond in a broom closet or two), Trish (Sage's academic rival who gets an amazing redemption arc once I finally get around to writing it.) Jensi and Kate (Girlfriends).

So yeah. A bit of a long explanation, but it's been awhile since I've gotten to talk about this little story of mine, so hope it wasn't too much. I'll try to find some time tomorrow to type up a little excerpt from what I have written!

-------

Also I know you probably dont care but you can find the comic still up here but bear in mind, the story has come a long way since the last episode was posted.

#bucket writes things #Closeted imperfection #ask game #ask answered

[katyahina]

Edgar's 'spyoning' situation (theory)

Oh boy oh boy, here I go making theories again. It has been a while... *grinds dry lumenwood into dust and inhales it for more Insight* So, I was able to piece together some evidence but consider it an alternative take to commonly accepted one rather than definitive thing!

Okay, so:

As @saint-micolash already pointed out in discussion in this ( x ) post, despite what is easy thing to assume, other people in the ritual room are not 'other scholars', they are the captives! Notice that their cages are only four bars tall and they are missing uniforms, however have cuffs and even metal collars with chains on their neck!

We by the result cannot say whether other Mensis Scholars existed or how many, maybe Micolash and Damian were the only ones. ...or maybe, since they are refered as 'madmen', there were some other ones but they are long now killed by Micolash and Damian simply got away before he "expired his use".

Okay OKAY sorry I am sidetracking!

But my point is, it was probably very hard if possible at all to simply 'blend in' amongst other scholars with his outfit as disguise of sorts. Not only there is no evidence of there having been more scholars than just Micolash and Damian, but also sending Edgar over in a disguise would have to be done under assumption that he could blend in to the point of not being noticed.

My cornerstone therefore would be assuming that his spyoning was an act - he would allow himself to get "captured" and quickly make himself useful and pretend to naturally agree and cooperate with School of Mensis, knowing what to say to make it seem legit!

There is no dead body anywhere in Yahar'gul to display Edgar being in the ritual too, so if he was to get into Nightmare of Mensis from that point - he'd have to survive the ritual and then get there through touching Micolash's corpse, like how our hunter does. However, things might be even more interesting.

(Screenshots help from @majitek and @saint-micolash because I cannot play game and take screenshots rn)

Okay you got the idea, this is the corpse where Lecture Theatre key is picked from, dressed in Black Church hunter outfit! So, not a teacher. Ack, maybe hat lacks because it is overused model and they trid to avoid clipping, but whatever. I'd assume Yurie (and possibly Fauxsefka too) had some escort with them, which makes sense, it is too dangerous to go through Forbidden Woods alone.

(Screenshots help by @cuddlefish-fish )

These are some more, notably, one in Black Church garb too but the second one is in normie Yharnam Hunter garb. I think these people must have gotten here through secret passageway in Iosefka's Clinic! Think about it - what is the purpose of that secret way if there is Gatekeeper that has password every Church person must know ('Fear the Old Blood')? Well, perhaps "forbidding" Byrgenwerth was just a convenient lie so nobody would pry on the secrets of the Healing Church and where Old Blood really originated from! So they'd had to uphold illusion of not going there, but actually were using secret way.

The thing is? Edgar might have been amonst these people.

Lecture Hall is connected with Nightmare of Mensis and currently it is not possible to access Lecture Hall from Byrgenwerth area, but we do not know for how long that was the case!

(Excerpts from here ( x ) by Last Protagonist)

The last note nitpicked is interesting as in Japanese original it does not seem to outright imply Willem, it might refer to Oedon after all as he is indeed invisible/unencounterable, he is a voice! Rom is indeed consealing the ritual but as well everything else - like Amygdalae - so maybe that includes drowning Oedon's voice out too, especially considering where this note is found. It is a bit important back to back with the fact that Willem himself 'hid a secret in the lake', so more likely that Oedon Chapel note does not mean Rom is holding him hostage or something.

Screenshot help by @cuddlefish-fish again, who also pointed out to my attention how many of these Black Church hunters are over Nightmare of Mensis. These might very well be those that Patches lured into being snatched by Amygdala, but after our hunter survives abduction - Patches reveals they were meant as sacrifice to them, so saying they'd bring Church Hunters to Micolash is a bit of a stretch. Maybe they all just escaped and ended in Nightmare of Mensis through Nightmare Frontier, however some of them are pierced by Frenzy spears.

Okay one last bit, one last bit, trust me I am going somewhere:

Now let me try to lay my idea down with everything compiled! Okay so, we have - Byrgenwerth students 'still waiting' for Willem, Willem loving the look at the spot and having put Rom in there, Choir member(s) invading not alone but with at least some Black Church hunters, fact about Rom consealing 'all rituals' and not even THE ritual being known 'outside', Edgar being a spy of the Choir but unable to "blend in" back at Yahar'gul the way we like to think in memes, several Black Church hunters being in the Nightmare of Mensis with some Frenzied, Edgar dropping sedatives that are cure created at Byrgenwerth, Shadows of Yharnam that are also enemies in Nightmare of Mensis guarding gate to Byrgenwerth and Micolash mentioning that the lake is "no longer visible"...

Okay now imagine:

Rather than getting into Nightmare of Mensis through Yahar'gul, Edgar accessed it through Byrgenwerth! The passageway between 'reality' and Nightmare was not always blocked - back then one could jump into the Lake and BAM, Lecture Hall! Hidden from the n00bs. So Yurie and Fauxsefka were trying to send some low ranking Black Church hunters to scout the place, but they would all end up wandering into Micolash through Lecture Hall and those who survived to tell about it revealed some insane things before their eventual death.

So, while other scholars still have not quite became all slugs yet were instructed to 'stay away from the door', they were able to send Edgar under the guise of wayward scholar! He was prepared, being a good actor and packed with sedatives, and he could suppose what to say to play it cool and survive the encounter. Since Yurie is 'the last scholar' she probably was one of them too once, so I imagine she could fill Edgar in about Micolash, having known him before. Could have been Damian, too - he is a summon in Byrgenwerth and does not seem to be on the side of Micolash anymore... But these are just realms of further possibility. In either case Edgar was a very smart (and very brave) man and ventured in!

* It also might shortcut the explanation as to why there is Iosefka's blood vial in the Nightmare of Mensis - if they were friends passing through her clinic (at least until Fauxsefka lost her screws), maybe she simply gifted it to Edgar into adventure. It depends on what one wants to do with her, though.

But eventually Edgar broke under Micolash's influence. He must have a huge charisma as a Cult leader! Edgar did his best but only could have lasted for so long before breaking and, perhaps, ratting his true endeavors out. He acts very genuine in trying to kick our Hunter's ass, for Micolash. I like to think Micolash knew from the very start Edgar was not just an ordinary scholar and was secretly manipulating him.

Now with all found out, Micolash did something so the lake could no longer lead anyone to him - sending some Shadows of Yharnam over to block the way in and out, as one last gesture. The lake was "no longer visible", no longer the portal! Was probably some arcane water manipulation, maybe even aid from Kos herself. If she hates humanity, would not protecting ritual further aid that? So, water manipulation upon lake it is...? Maybe! And scholars did not have chance to evacuate, nobody could foresee that Lecture Hall and the main way to Byrgenwerth get split for good.

Perhaps Yurie and Fauxsefka got stuck for a long time in the place, until closer to the game events night, but notice the lack of Celestial Emissaries in Byrgenwerth - ones that Fauxsefka creates! She seems to be turning people into Kin so they don't have to become beasts instead which Yurie might not have agreed to. Choir operates differently but maybe Yurie was still more aligned with Willem's ways - something Fauxsefka eventually gave up on and ditched.

Interestingly, there is Cainhurst invitation found on the side of Iosefka's Clinic she invaded from, she also can create "secret" Cainhurst potions, and only her and Annalise mention 'moon scent' to our Hunter. Maybe she had means to 'pass' through Shadows of Yharnam as a vileblood and therefore 'their' person, leaving Yurie unable to chase her as Shadows would be too much for her. Or maybe she did not want to as protecting Rom was more important anyways?

---------------

I also want to give special thanks to @val-of-the-north because HE pointed my head towards random corpses in Byrgenwerth being maybe not so random and needing a closer look, and this is how I started to loredig this interesting bit! And to @saint-micolash because that single discussion and his remarks became a cornerstone of how I see School of Mensis now. Though overall I am very happy that this fandom is so helpful to my PS4-less ass, thank you so much guys for sharing screens and stuff!

Again, everything is only in the realm of possibility and could have stopped back in Yahar'gul, but I just thing everything is more tied together this way. And explains Mico's weird line about the lake...?

#bloodborne #bloodborne theory #edgar choir intelligencer #micolash host of the nightmare #yurie the last scholar #impostor iosefka #real iosefka #healing church #byrgenwerth #provost willem #rom the vacuous spider #bb #text post #not art #i thought i was going to pass out from how many very vague bits of reasoning i had to focus at at the same time #interactions between edgar and micolash i have in my head are legendary honestly it is my fav thing at this rate #i love these two #poor edgar

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

#haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #kuroo x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tendou satori x reader #atsumu miya x reader #osamu miya x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu imagines

[btsandvmin]

Vmin fic rec - Canon compliant

So I got an ask quite a while ago, and considering I am an avid lover of canon compliant Vmin fics myself, it took way too long for me to answer this.

Thank you so much! <3 Like you I love canon Vmin fics, and have a bunch of them bookmarked...Actually there are over 100 in my bookmarks and since I don’t know if you wanted quailty or quantity I added most of them here. I simply searched for canon fics amongst my own bookmarks. That also means I likely missed some as I just searched based on the one tag “canon compliant” and not everyone might have used that tag.

Mind you this is in no particular order in how much I like them but rather from when I bookmarked them, some I love and others I like. Also, I don’t know your taste and standard, so I’m sorry if some of these aren’t for you. Also, I would include a description, but I think it’s easier and takes less space (aka I can add more fics) if I just add the link and you can check them out one by one. 

There are definitely NSFW ones in here, and honestly I probably can’t remember all of them too well as I simply went through the whole list without stopping to see what fics I had in my list. 

I hope you will find something you like here as canon Vmin truly are to die for. <3 I mean, they sometimes outdo fiction don’t they?

Check under the cut for 100+ Canon Vmin fics.

a space we're in together by hammersandstrings

ships in the night by albinococonut23

I'm in love with you, My Honeymoon by SilverLions

glow in the dark by bwimincore

a bed made and ready by smashthatlikebutton

an incident of fate (and dumplings) by majestaekim

Blue & Grey by imhereforvmin

settle down by as7erRisk

under the midnight sun by mistilteinn

life makes love look hard by yoontros

"Friends" by imhereforvmin

Just Soulmate Things by bangtanmirage

like an ancient sun by vastlyunknown

honesty is beautiful (like you, darling) by IGotJams95

Cuddle Buddies by teamkimseokjin (closetfairy)

an excerpt of love by vmxns

made visible by yeongwonhanrain (pudgypanda)

The Beginning of Forever by adidasjungkook

fast track by latertater (vmincrumb)

Counting The Beat by TracksDifferent

basic instinct by taekmindown

the brightest part by latertater (vmincrumb)

my heart is pounding tonight by chlexcer

Like Vines by TracksDifferent

Mandu Incident by VMINSaranghae

Friends by smolkook

The Other Side by Serendipitous_VMin

The Greatest Declaration of Love by Serendipitous_VMin

5000 days, 5000 ways by mistilteinn

A Nameless Bird That Sings by afraidtocare

deep in our bones (i know you) by ninefives (vmxns)

rest your bones (with me) by firebreathe

stay (you are my soulmate) by starlit_tae

Helping Hands by fandomfab16

Friends? by sweetnight_vm

Friends by rabbitfur

Friends by justpromisemin

in the space between the words by jardin (huayuan)

love is no big truth by venusghost

bro shut up i'm trying to find your gspot by namginut

Friends by PeaceFanfics for pjm_prmise

stay by momjoon (NogitsuneStiles)

Friends by Love_yourself_12

Bad Habits by 1995soulmates_coms (orphan_account)

taehyung's leash incidents by Anonymous

Mikrokosmos by imhereforvmin

Then There Was Malta by TracksDifferent

irritated by minblush

We're a perfect match (perfect somehow) by tang_jin_jaem

Map of the Soul: vmin by imhereforvmin

Secret Love Song by whatareliefwehaveeachother

twenty-one minutes. by naturallyvante

the start of something new by cryptonomica

all i wanna do (is drive home to you) by glossedmouth

3, 2, 1 by Serendipitous_VMin

Tiptoeing Over The Edge by vminthough

As Sweet As Sea Salt by vminthough

You're hurting too 'cause you're mine by escribeloquequieras

Show Me Yours by eron_less

these stars in your eyes by vmxns

Pressure of Light by timesuck2000

95z by alittleharder

Taehyung's Non-proposal by apocryphalic

there's something between us, anyway by chlexcer

any stranger i choose by hyalinos

Stigma by Manek

base coat by jeonbenet for makesomelove

When you move (I move) by jwimin-ssi (abaegel)

Maybe I'm In Love With You by VantaeKimTaehyung

every drop counts because of you by IGotJams95

you got your name in lights by pettey

those goddamn pants by orphan_account

It’s my mouth Kim Taehyung, I’ll do with it what I want by happily_missy

dance with the one that brought you by brendonurie

what am i gonna do, say no? by naturallyvante

i just want to kiss the stars by IGotJams95

Asking For It by Peppermintprism

The Perils of Dating Park Jimin by softbangtanboys

wanna end up on you by vastlyunknown

Why are you crying (You and I are the only ones here) by kkyufms (halo_dean)

just like a tattoo (i'll always have you) by cypherkooks

More Than Yesterday by 1995soulmates

contact by loveismore

beautiful thing by loverslight

A List on You by blithevmin

what ifs and whens by billykaplan

let's get going by gangbang

Sticky Sweet by x______o (orphan_account)

Three Sixty Five by orphan_account

two weeks by buichim

Bossy by CheekyBrunette

Keeping Score by 1995soulmates

Act Natural by orphan_account

With You By My Side(s), My Love Won't Go To "Waist" by btsax (znks)

4 O'Clock by Awalk66

Lovesick by orphan_account

Eclipse by orphan_account

here comes the rush (before we touch) by knth

tonight, the world is blue by vmxns

summer days and daisy dukes (wow, look at you) by vmxns

Ask Me Anything by Trilluvium

Unbothered by sugarlizard

how to confess to your best friend on April Fools' (hint: you don't) by blurbluefrog (ForestFish)

friends help each other by minblush

kissing up on fences (and up on walls, i don't want to fall) by bonnia

Can I Have This Dance? by SevenSoulmates

Your love was handmade for somebody like me by tangowithsuga

crashing waves by autumnleavxs

A Fault In My Structure by Zee

till the ocean is folded and hung up to dry (i'll love you, dear) by orphan_account

trust that particular flavor by pettey for parksinbloom

At Last (my love has come along) by orphan_account

for him by mellzmallow

best of me by firejimin for for chels! i hope i didn’t disappoint ctfu

Intro: Going to Lose my Mind by VanishedElf 

you make me wonder sometimes (all the time) by minblush

we don’t believe what’s on tv by chahans

out of the woodwork by lvlyvmin

Through dozens of skies by mecchayabai (this is a personal favorite of mine, I love the concept mixed with canon Vmin)

I also got another ask about fics, and if you want more Vmin I made a Huge Vmin fic rec that you can check out. Hope you will find something you like. :)

If you want a rec with my favorites I could always do a much shorter one... Or you can check my previous rec post (above) for canon compliant ones as I was more picky when I made that list. 

Also here is a short little drabble that I wrote...  Do you write Vmin fics? Yes, and here is a small drabble. (Which reminds me I should also write on my own Canon Vmin fic I’ve been working on but neglecting in favor of writing analysis. T__T)

Again, thank you so much for this ask. And as another canon loving fic reader let’s hope our lovely Vmin writers keep providing us with new ones. :) <3

#vmin fic rec #vmin canon #vmin canon compliant #vmin fanfiction #vmin fic #btsandvmin #my post #Vmin - Canon compliant fic rec #vmin

[cicissketchbook]

Y’all wanna read my Apritello story?

So sometimes when my artistic drive is down, the writing bug will come bite me. I’ve been working on an Apritello story for awhile that currently has three chapters that are up on my Patreon. Eventually I’ll post it publicly, but I want my patrons to have early access. Anyway here’s an excerpt from the first chapter.

It’s kind of angsty.

The summary is, April invites Donnie to join her for a long weekend at the farmhouse, which sounds romantic until you consider that she’s been plagued with visions of his accidental death and is desperate to stop it from happening.

To say there was tension in the air was a drastic understatement. Truthfully, things had been tense for a while. Blame it on cabin fever, or perhaps they were outgrowing their sewer lair, but the brothers had been quick to jump down each other’s throats. 

Leo was especially on edge, and not unlike how it had been since they were kids, his mood had set the tone for everyone else. One thing that differed from childhood though, was that he had been butting heads with Donnie, while Raph remained a mostly neutral third party. 

There was the knowledge that they were getting older and they all had desires to get out there and live their own lives, and then the realization that doing so wasn’t really possible for them in the world they lived in. They wanted what any young adults would want, but they were mutants.  The world still saw them as freaks. They couldn’t lead normal lives the way they wanted to. They knew this, they had known this all their lives. They had all been on the same page about it. They realized that living their lives in the sewer, at least most of it, was probably in the cards. April had always contested this idea, believing that the world would accept them in time. It’s not like people didn’t know mutants existed, but the turtles weren’t willing to take the risk. It’s not like they couldn’t go out and do things like they always had, but leaving the nest for good just wasn’t feasible. And they were content with this. The sewer was all they’d ever known. They’d always been together and they were happy to always be together. 

But like all families, arguments were inevitable. Familiarity breeds contempt, after all. And they were accustom to bickering. But… it was different now. Leo seemed ready to explode at the drop of a pen, Raph never seemed to be able to find enough alone time, Donnie felt like he brought more to the table than the other three combined, and Mikey… sweet Mikey was such an incurable optimist that he sought to find the positive in every situation, but they knew he did this to mask his depression.  

If asked what they were arguing about today, the simple answer would be that they were all just getting on each other’s nerves. Donnie couldn’t even remember how the argument started because they fought about trivial things so frequently, but he remembered the thing that Leo said that set him off.

“God, why is it so hard for you to just do your part? Why do we have to pick up your slack?”

Donnie was silent for a moment, almost unsure he’d heard correctly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you never fucking help out with anything!” Leo’s tone implied that there was something else he was upset about that he wasn’t speaking of. 

Donnie, by his best effort, kept his voice calm and composed. “I’m sorry, are you referring to three days ago when I didn’t help clean up the disaster in the kitchen because I was literally putting the microwave back together? Or perhaps last week when you left a mess for me to clean up that you all made while I wasn’t even here? And then you got mad when I didn’t?”

Leo seemed to get more aggravated at the mention of Donnie not being there, but continued on. “C’mon man, there are four of us that live here, it’s really not asking too much for everyone to help clean up around here.” 

“Dude, I clean up after myself more than anyone. The difference is, when I make a mess, it’s in my lab rather than communal space and-“

“Oh, right, I forgot. The huge space you have that’s your’s. That none of us have.” Leo turned to their other brothers who sat near by. “Hey Raph, other than your tiny bedroom, do you have your own creative space that you can do whatever you want in? Mikey, how about you?”

Raph hadn’t spoken, but seemed invested in the exchange his brothers were having. It was impossible to tell who’s side he was on. Before Mikey could speak, Raph stopped him and said firmly, “Leave us out of this, man.”

“So now your mad at me… because of my lab?”

Leo paused, not making eye contact, before he huffed. “No.” He admitted quietly.

Normally, Donnie was used to these arguments making little or no sense, but Leo seemed genuinely angry and he couldn’t understand why. 

“Bro, what is up?” He demanded. “Why are you actually so upset?”

“I just…” Leo started. Donnie could tell there was something he didn’t want to say. Leo crossed his arms and turned away from his brother. “I just want to know… where your priorities are.”

“My priorities?” Donnie was trying not to lose his patience. He had no idea where this was coming from nor where it was going. Which meant one of two things. Either there was something his brother wasn’t telling him, or this was in fact going no where. Like, this had started out a fight about cleaning duties, and now he’s talking about priorities. If Leo did have a point, he wanted him to hurry up and make it because this argument seemed like a waste of time.

“It just…” Leo blew another huff through his nose. “It just seems like… you are… distancing yourself from us, Donnie.”

This statement completely threw Don for a loop. He hadn’t expected that at all. “What in the world are you talking about?” He asked, truly bewildered by the turn in conversation. “Because I don’t want to clean up messes that aren’t mine? Like what the hell-?”

“No, obviously it’s not that. It’s alot of things.” Leo spoke quieter now, not as impassioned. 

“Well, I would love to know what those things are, because I am completely lost here.”

“You never want to hang out with us anymore, and when you do, you act like you’d rather be doing anything else-“

Donnie cut him off with a humorless chuckle. “We’re brothers, we all get on each other’s nerves.” 

“And I get that, but we do all still live together and we all need to contribute to the household chores, and you’ve just been acting like you are so far above doing any type of housework that doesn’t directly effect you.”

“Well, excuse me Leo, sorry if when it rains and the power get knocked out and I have to go topside by myself in the cold pouring rain to fix the power line, I don’t also want to have to mop up the leak in the kitchen when none of you did anything to help!”

“Okay, you keep bring up specific instances, but I’m talking about in general-“

“No, you’re talking alot of nonsense is what you’re doing!” Donnie’s lack of patience was starting to show. “First you’re mad that you think I don’t clean enough, then you’re mad that I have a lab and you don’t? Then you say I’m distancing myself from you all…?” Donnie stood and made a move like he was going to walk away. “If you have something to say, Leo, you better just say it because this whole conversation seems like a waste of time to me. It’s late and I’m tired, so make your point, or I’m going to bed.”

“Are you distancing yourself from us because of April?”

Donnie had already started walking away, as he didn’t expect Leo to actually have a point, so he was halted to a standstill at his words. “What does she have to do with anything?”

Leo looked away again, like he didn’t actually want to have this conversation. After a moment, he sighed and continued without making eye contact. “It just seems like… I mean… I thought we were all on the same page here. We’ve had this discussion, a long time ago. We aren’t…. Human. We’re getting older and it makes sense that we’d want to start living our own lives, but… we can’t. Not really. The world doesn’t accept us, so staying down here is just how it has to be. I thought we had agreed on that. That no matter what the world thought of us, no matter that we can’t lead normal lives, at least we all had each other. But… now it seems like you have other plans, Donnie.”

He finally looked at his brother and Donnie could see the emotions in his eyes. Nothing of what he said had been new information, of course. Donnie knew, painfully well, that the world saw them as freaks and being “normal” was not a luxury they’d ever be able to have. Alot of their friends were at the point where they were starting to branch off, which didn’t help. Karai and Shinigami were currently back in Japan. It was just a visit, but the kind of visit that lasted for a month or two. Casey had gotten a hockey scholarship for a different school than the one April attended. He was trying to go pro, so he poured all his time and attention into practicing. He still came around, but not like he used to. Mona Lisa had left Earth awhile ago, also with promise to return, but they hadn’t heard from her in a few weeks. They were sure it was just a new mission she had, but that didn’t make Raph feel any better. April was the only one who still came around all the time. With most of their enemies gone, everyone was moving on and it felt like the world didn’t need them anymore. 

The pain in Leo’s voice would’ve normal made Donnie want to hug him, but it was the accusation that he couldn’t get over.

“Leo…” He gestured non threateningly with his hands. “Why are you acting like I’m not literally living down here in the sewers right along with you? And I still don’t see what April has to do with anything-” 

“Okay, I’m going to jump in here.” Raph said unexpectedly. “Look, Dude, I know we don’t… we don’t say it enough but… we would be up schitts creek without a paddle without you.” He crossed the room to give Leo a lighthearted punch in the arm. “Wouldn’t we, Leo?”

“…Yeah.”

“So because of that, the idea of you leaving is…. It’s scary.” Raph admitted. He was going to say something else, but Donnie interrupted.

“I’m not going anywhere! What in the actually hell are you guys talking about?!”

Leo rolled his eyes, apparently getting annoyed again. “Don, can we please stop pretending like you’re not going to marry April and then move in with her?”

Donnie froze. To say they touched a nerve was an understatement. April was his best friend, but truthfully, it was very painful to be her friend sometimes. His feelings for her were still just as intense as ever, but for different reason now. In his youth, he’d maintained a kind of innocent hopefulness that they would someday be together, and he never even really thought of the details of how. He knew, even back then, that it wasn’t that simple and when he really thought about it, nothing about it made sense. Which is why he didn’t think about it. Now though, after some soul searching and dropping into a deep depression which he was starting to get better from, he’d resigned himself to the reality that she would never be with him. He’d accepted it, and told himself that it was enough to just be her friend. But the truth was, that pain never went away.  They had such a close friendship, they had developed such a level of comfort with each other, but he knew it would never be enough. The idea of never seeing her again was unbearable, but to be so close to her, knowing that it was as close as he would ever get… it was torture. He didn’t care though, he just couldn’t let her go.

What really hurt was when she would talk about the next stage in her life. She was in school now, but with her grades and what she was studying, she could go anywhere. She wanted to travel, she spoke of it often. She never made any committal remarks about moving away, other than when she talked about the farmhouse and saying how expensive it is to live in the city. Her dad had signed the property over to her for tax reasons, and she would’ve inherited it anyway. She wanted to renovate it.

He was only vaguely aware that Raph and Leo were still talking.

“It’s not like we’re mad at you for finding love, that’s not it at all!” Raph was saying, obviously more concerned than Leo about ruffling his brother’s feathers. “It’s just, we need to be realistic about what would happen if you weren’t here.”

“Yeah, and the reality is, frankly, I think we all feel left behind by our friends, but we didn’t think  our clan would be breaking up as well!” Leo threw his hands up, finally letting his true feelings out. “I mean, all we have is each other, we’re the last of the Hamato clan! I can’t let this clan die, I just can’t.”

“Why do you guys feel the need to do that?” 

They stopped, taken aback by how low and serious Donnie’s voice was. He was done barking, he looked ready to bite. 

“Do what?”

Donnie’s chest felt tight and he had to taken in a sharp breath through his nose to keep his cool. “Why do you guys feel the need to not only remind me of my unrequited feelings for my… our  best friend… but now, you’re holding it against me?”

Raph looked concerned at first, but then sighed. “Donnie, c’mon, don’t act like you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to get out of here. April isn’t going to stay in New York forever.” 

The statement, while probably true, hurt to hear. “What does that have to do with me?” He said, quieter this time. “I can’t help what April does.”  

“Dude, she is literally planning her future with you in it. Have you not noticed that?” Leo nearly screamed. “You have the opportunity to get out of here and do something with your life, and we’ll be-“

“No she’s not!” Donnie shouted back. “Are you guys smoking crack or something? Don’t say that shit to me! April doesn’t…” He paused, his words getting caught in his throat. “April doesn’t want me. I thought we’d been over this.”

Mikey, who hadn’t yet spoke, immediately picked up on how much pain Donnie was in. “Hey guys, let’s just drop it, yeah?”

Leo pressed on as if his youngest brother hadn’t spoken. “Maybe she didn’t five years ago, but she sure as shit does now.” He didn’t seem bothered by Donnie visible cringe. “I mean, dude, you’ve spent the night, alone at her house.”

“So has Mikey. And Raph once, I think.” Donnie said quietly, and Raph nodded in confirmation. “And she’s spent the night here a billion times, that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Mikey and Raph didn’t sleep in her bed.” Leo said accusingly. 

“I did.”  

They all paused and turned to the youngest brother. Raph spoke. “You did?”

“Every time I go over there, I sleep in her bed.” Mikey said matter-o-factly. “Whenever… whenever I’m sad, she let’s me come over and… she’ll listen. She doesn’t try to offer solutions, she doesn’t try and tell me things to make me feel better, she just… listens. And that’s what helps me the most. Then we watch funny videos.”

None of them commented at first. They all knew Mikey struggled with depression, but he rarely, if ever, talked about it. They all had told him at some point that they were there if he needed to talk, but he never came to any of them. One might of thought that hearing that his brother shared a bed with April might make Donnie jealous, but quite the opposite, it made him very happy and appreciative to hear about it. It made sense that Mikey would be more comfortable talking to April than to any of them, and to know that she had been there for him was comforting. Donnie wanted that for his brother. 

“See?” He said finally, more to Leo than anyone else. “April… she’s there for all of us. She cares about all of us… I’m not special.”

“Donnie, don’t say that.” Mikey offered and rose from his seat to place a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Donnie placed his own hand over Mikey’s and squeezed it, staring at the floor.  “She cares about you the most. More than you know.”

“Mikey, please, please don’t.” He said through his teeth. “I can’t… I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation right now. You know how long it took me to accept the fact that I was kidding myself by thinking there could ever be something between us? Of course you guys know, which is why it is so baffling to me that you feel the need to do this.” 

“So if April wanted you to move away with her, you wouldn’t do it?” 

Raph punched Leo in the arm again. It was a strange thing, to see Raph scold Leo for being insensitive. Donnie had had enough though.

“I’m out of here.” He turned on his heel and heading towards the turnstiles. 

...............

Yes, it’s NSFW, of course it is.

#TMNT 2012 #apritello #donatello #leonardo #raphael #michelangelo #mikey #raph #leo #donnie #apriltello #tmnt #fanfiction

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

(pt 1) i really enjoy all your atla analyses & you've done a great job breaking down the usual arguments re how eip shows that kataang shouldn't have happened. i'm curious about your take on one specific argument that i just saw today, in an analysis of the show by a zker that was otherwise quite good and respectful (i know you've already talked about eip a lot, so no problem if you don't feel like rehashing). the premise: aang didn't just pressure katara in eip, he threatened her.

(pt 2) they point to when katara joins aang & asks if he’s alright: “aang: no, i’m not! i hate this play! katara: i know it’s upsetting, but it sounds like you’re overreacting. aang: overreacting? if i hadn’t blocked my chakra, i’d probably be in the avatar state right now!” the suggestion is he’s threatening her when he says ‘i’d probably be in the avatar state right now’ to describe his anger. i think this take exaggerates and oversimplifies it, but interested in your thoughts on it.

Hello my friend!! It is true I am Old inside and don’t like rehashing dhdlksjslks BUT your comments on my posts are always incredibly kind and insightful so I am more than willing to do a bit of rehashing for you 🥰 Besides! I’ve seen this general take before a few times and it’s always irked me for the exact reason you point out - it simultaneously exaggerates and oversimplifies the situation (and honestly that’s an impressive duality since it’s seemingly contradictory, so hats off to them lmaooo) - and now is as good a time as any to address it. So, for starters, let’s go ahead and get the excerpt they love to focus on so much:

Cut to Aang standing alone on a balcony. Katara enters and walks up to him.

Katara: Are you all right?

Aang: [Angered.] No, I’m not! I hate this play! [Yanks his hat off and throws it on the ground.]

Katara: I know it’s upsetting, but it sounds like you’re overreacting.

Aang: Overreacting? If I hadn’t blocked my chakra, I’d probably be in the Avatar State right now!

Here’s the thing about so-called analyses of this excerpt: in a manner extremely convenient to the poster, they never seek to contextualize this moment. (I mean, to do so would deplatform their entire “argument” - perhaps that’s why they avoid performing a full analysis?) So let’s avoid that pitfall from the start.

Firstly, below are some links to related posts; I’m going to do my best to summarize the most relevant parts, but for anyone who desires greater detail, I gotchu 😤

This post explains why EIP (the play, lol) is imperialist propaganda and is intended to belittle the entire Gaang.

This post explains how Aang never acted “entitled” to Katara’s affections, particularly in regard to EIP.

This post breaks down the infamous EIP kiss like Snopes Fact Checker, covering common misconceptions, important perspectives to consider, etc.

Alright. With that out the way, it’s time for some context.

Aang and Katara have this conversation on the balcony after watching 95% of “The Boy in the Iceberg,” a play chock-full of Fire Nation propaganda that demeans the entire Gaang in order to prop up the Fire Nation as superior (hence why the play ends with Ozai’s victory). Here is my general breakdown of Aang and Katara’s treatment in particular from a previous post:

- katara, an indigenous woman, is highly sexualized and portrayed as overly dramatic and tearful, because the fire nation objectifies women not of their own people and views them as less intelligent and less emotionally stable

- aang, the avatar, the sole survivor of the fire nation’s genocide of the air nomads who is incredibly in-touch with his spirituality and femininity, is portrayed as an overly-airy and immature woman. the fire nation portrays him with a female actor to demean him (like, that’s classic imperialistic propagandist tactics) and furthermore writing his character as a childish airhead reinforces the fire nation sentiment that the air nomads were weak, foolish people who did not deserve to exist in their world

In other words, these kids have just watched almost an entire play that preys upon their insecurities and depicts them using racist and sexist stereotypes about their respective nations. It is completely understandable that tensions might run a little high and that their interactions would not be as balanced as usual (Katara and Aang have a great track record of communicating well with each other, as it happens!).

So we have to keep that in mind when examining the aforementioned excerpt. But there are other factors to consider, too! Namely: they are kids. Children. Teens. Aang is 12, Katara is 14.

If we want to be scientific, a person’s brain doesn’t finish developing until they are 25, lmao, and the preteen/teen years are when the prefrontal cortex that controls “rationality,” “judgement,” “forethought,” etc. is still developing. This doesn’t mean Aang and Katara are irrational and make poor decisions 24/7 (obviously not), but it does mean that in an intense, highly emotional situation, like after watching a play that intentionally demeans them and depicts them as inferior, they are more likely to overreact, more likely to be emotional, and more likely to make mistakes. Like, I’m serious, lol. “Teens process information with the amygdala.” That’s part of the brain that helps control emotions! It’s why teens sometimes struggle to articulate what we’re thinking, especially in situations that require instinct/impulse and quick decisions, because we’re really feeling whenever we make those choices. Acting more on emotion. Our brains simply haven’t finished developing the decision-making parts, lmao.

In sum: Aang and Katara are both kids, not adults, and should be interpreted as such. This doesn’t negate their intelligence, because they are both incredibly smart and Aang is arguably the wisest of the Gaang, but they are human. Young humans. They have emotions, and we should not be so cruel as to assume they’d never act on them.

So taking that all together, we can now acknowledge the high stress Aang and Katara are under, understand why they might be upset (*cough* imperialist propaganda is hurtful *cough*), and examine how their youth might play into their emotional reactions. And funny thing - all analyses that come to the conclusion of Aang “threatening” Katara here do not usually bother with this context. I can’t imagine why!

And you know what, let’s add one more piece of context: Sokka states that Aang left the theater “like, ten minutes ago,” which is what cues Katara to go look for him on the balcony. The reason I mention this line is because to me, it suggests Aang knew he was more worked up than usual! He chose to separate himself from his friends so he could process his frustration! He did not take his anger at the play out on them; instead, he purposefully took time and space to be alone.

With that in mind, I don’t understand at all how Aang’s Avatar state quote could be interpreted as a threat? Canonly, Aang is someone who was aware enough of his frustration to separate himself from the others - yet the logical next step is him threatening Katara as a result? He knew his intense emotions were because of the play (which he says himself), so the logical conclusion is that he then pinned the fault on Katara? What?? Sorry, that interpretation has no textual basis, lmao. But I digress!

Aang tells Katara, “If I hadn’t blocked my chakra, I’d probably be in the Avatar State right now!” As you said, this is the line people point to in an attempt to justify their (baseless) conclusion that Aang is “threatening” Katara. So let’s bring in the two key pieces of context: imperialist propaganda and age. Given that Aang is 12, and given that Aang has just watched almost a full play that demeans him and everything his people stood for (and let’s not forget it also mocks his and Katara’s love for each other)…

His reaction is understandable. An exaggeration and needlessly dramatic, but understandable. He feels vulnerable and insecure and Aang is human. He is human and flawed and he overreacts here and I love that A:TLA shows how even our heroes, even people who are truly good at heart and in soul, can get overly upset (especially given the aforementioned circumstances!). Would Aang actually be in the Avatar state at that moment, had it been possible? Of course not! He’s young and he’s hurt and as such he says something dramatic to convey his anxieties and frustrations. The line is not meant to be taken literally, and seeing people do so despite all the factors that should be taken into consideration when analyzing it… Cue a long, tired sigh from me and so many other A:TLA fans.

And to be honest? I cannot fathom how people watch this episode and come to the conclusion that Aang is “threatening” Katara. To me, this episode - besides being a recap episode - is one that humanizes our cast even further. Aang snaps at Katara, kisses her when he shouldn’t (which the story appropriately treats as wrong). Katara pushes down her true feelings and retreats into herself, afraid to start a relationship with the boy she loves because she’s already lost him once before and can’t bear to do so again. Zuko further confronts the hurt he’s enacted upon others, especially upon Iroh. Toph practices being vulnerable and accepting vulnerability from others by conversing with Zuko. Sokka witnesses how others have erased his contributions and labelled him as nothing more than the token nonbender in the group. Even Suki learns that she is not the only person who holds a place in Sokka’s heart and that she can never replace what he has lost.

To watch this episode where our heroes must come to terms with how the Fire Nation deems them inherently inferior, with how they have more fights to overcome in the future with the Fire Nation than a single war, and to come to the conclusion that… that what, Aang is abusive? A monster? Irredeemable? That he would threaten his best friend, someone he loves in every way?

Wow. That says more than enough about the viewer, doesn’t it?

#getting back into the swing of things babey ✌️ #aang #katara #kataang #kataangtag #the ember island players #atla #avatar the last airbender #amy answers #dramaticowl #amy analyzes #also i am speaking in GENERAL TERMS here lmaooo this is not a direct response to any one post 😂😂

[blackbirdandbutterfly]

Answers, at long last...

For the past seven years, I have lived with persistent auditory hallucinations. Sometimes they roar, sometimes they whisper, but they're always there. When they first reared their ugly head, neither my doctor nor my psychiatrist took me very seriously. They blamed it on Borderline Personality Disorder. At the time I accepted it, because my own research supported the fact that sometimes people with BPD suffer from this.

But what people with BPD don't experience is voices telling them that they're the Devil's Whore, that someone has poisoned your well, that someone is hunting you down to kill you. They don't experience voices telling them to stop taking their medication, because it's poison. They don't experience voices telling them to flush their mother's medication (again, because poison). They don't experience voices telling them that they have to always keep moving, or else the person hunting them is going to find them and they and everyone they know is going to die. This is the sort of thing I've lived with for SEVEN. YEARS. And I was never taken seriously.

The only reason I managed to function for as long as I did was because I was lucid enough to know that they were hallucinations. I knew to ignore them. But whenever I go through periods of extreme stress, the voices get worse. Whether I listen to them or not, they're impossible to ignore. They say things that can be absolutely terrifying.

Less than a year ago, I ended up with a new primary care provider; a Nurse Practitioner. When I first told her about the voices, she was appalled that my previous doctors thought it was acceptable to just bring the voices down to a dull roar. When things started getting really bad again recently, this woman fought for me like no one else ever did. She got me the help I needed.

At long last, I'm getting diagnosed with what I knew I had - schizoaffective disorder. This means that I can actually get help when things get bad rather than just have an ineffective medication constantly increased. I have since been put on a new antipsychotic medication that manages my bipolar symptoms as well as psychosis. Since I've been on it, most days I don't hear the voices at all. Having peace and quiet in my mind after 7 years has been pure bliss. I'm finally starting to reconnect with the person I used to be. I missed that person, so damn much.

I'm so relieved to finally have answers. But I'm also really angry at the doctors who didn't take me seriously. Being diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder feels like the 21st century equivalent of being diagnosed with Hysteria. So far as they're concerned you're just a drama queen who doesn't know what's going on and you should never be taken seriously. I got that diagnosis nearly 15 years ago, and it was never really revisited despite me begging to be psychoanalyzed again.

To the Nurse Practitioner who fought for me - thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You're never going to read this, but I'm going to find some way to thank you properly. In the few months that I've known you, you have given me more help than doctors have in the past 10 years. You are truly my guardian angel, and I am so grateful for having met you.

Now that that's out of the way, I want to address what I've been posting. Lately I haven't felt much poetry brewing in me. I'm feeling disenchanted with love, and that has always been my main source of inspiration. It all came from my happy place...dreams of a man I was fully convinced I would meet one day. But the voices all pretended to be him. They destroyed him for me. Maybe some day I'll feel ready to write love poems again, but right now I'm focusing most of my creative energy on a novel: Loup Garou Detective Agency. I have been posting excerpts, but so far no one seems too interested. I could post full chapters if people want me to. If you're reading this, please take a look through the excerpts that I've posted and let me know what you think. If people are at all intrigued, I'll start posting full chapters starting from the beginning. I desperately want to get published this year, and maybe if I can generate enough interest here a publisher will actually think about picking it up.

I'm still going to try to post poetry once in a while. I'm just struggling to find a muse now that my Gentle Giant is lost to me. I miss him so damned much...but maybe he was a crutch that I needed to let go of, in order to heal. It doesn't feel that way though. I just feel like he was another source of joy that the voices stole from me. Maybe some day I'll find my way back to him...but right now thinking of him just makes me want to cry.

#update #original work #original content #original writing #my writing #poetsandwriters #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #my novel #life update #personal post #plans for the future #plans for my blog #changes #uncertainty #i don't know anymore #i don't know what to do #i don't know how to feel about this #mentally drained #mentally exhausted #burnt out #lovesick #sick of love #poets on tumblr

[dallonm-archive]

[image description: a cropped image of a pink sky. on the right hand side is a bunch of darker pink clouds. Just left of the centre is a full moon. In the centre, in a white serif font reads "writing update" /end id]

july writing update

Hi friends! This writing update is me pretending I did Camp Nano and didn't kinda give up a week in! I had a proper goal and everything, but a lot of things got in the way that I'm not gonna talk about here because I already ranted about it in another update I'm drafting rn. Lets just say it's Disability Pride Month and being not neurotypical or able bodied in writing communities and their inherent focus on productivity is Hard.

But I did get some writing done and wanted to do a little Camp wrap up post regardless. And I'm doing it now because I'm cancelling the last week of July for some rest/self care and I do not want to think about writing for that time and if I write a tumblr post about July Nano being over my brain will think it's actually over <3 I will probably do updates like these for most months tho! Depends on how much I write lol! This one is not too long (by my standards) and has some Revelations, Revelations, Life Cycle of Massive Stars, Nocturne for the Holy and a new wip idea 👁️

excerpts under the cut!

general taglist ; ask to be + or - ; i only have one! ; @childhoodlovers @svpphicwrites @abiandwriting @kowlazovdi @avi-why @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @bijouxs @bookphobe @moonhungers @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @piyawrites @avakrahn @goose-books @finch-goes-write @ziyin @aphaimaniis @isherwoodj @laughtracksonata

I'm also editing this in to say I only just realised that July is my writeblr birthday month and that is very weird to me! A year and a couple days ago I impulsively turned an old blog into a place to document writing for me and ended up meeting people who now mean the world to me and my writing blossoming in a way I never thought it would. And the funny part is it doesn't feel like it's been a year, ever since I joined it's just felt like life has Always been this way and I cannot fathom that it hasn't. I'm sappy bc it's 4am lol but ultimately the friends I made (you know who you are) and the community I found is what retaught me the value of writing and helped me unlearn toxic ideas and whilst the last year was tough I wish I could tell July 2020 Dallon (who did not realise he was Dallon yet </3) what July 2021 would look like.

revelations, revelations ;

Oh the absolute state of affairs with this book rn. Nothing bad but I don't know when I'm gonna update y'all because sometimes I do not know where to start when talking about this wip lol! Currently on a break with it (but also my thesis work is on late 20th century queer lit/history rn so am ever really free of RR? <3) but had a lot of fun with it at the end of June/start of July. Anyway here's Dorothy finally revealing more of herself to me after a year. Dorothy as a character is like, I truly believe she is capable of killing a man but the story she is in just does not allow that so I am trying to grow her unhinged side a little bit in other ways bc I know she has it in her but I also really cannot deal with the plot repercussions of her actually killing a man! I'm sorry Dotty but this'll have to do!

(cw for groping/a man being creepy as hell, death/funeral mention, drug mention, drowning imagery kinda)

There’s too much to tell Felix. That his sister lives on the fringe of Castro and has attended three funerals since September; that it’s January 11th and she’s already attended one this year. That his sister drives through sunsets and imagines parties: the amber dusk, warm mosaic tiles, platters of Greek salad skewers and shrimp tostadas, and sometimes Jolie joins her and they share a blunt on the hill. That his sister bought an aquamarine body-length dress for six bucks in a thrift store sale bin, so when her and Jolie broke up for the second time, she waltzed into a sunset party, locked arms with a CEO’s son and gave him a fake number and plucked strawberries out of champagne and blended so well nobody noticed when she left. That during the summer of ’83, his sister walked a neighbour’s Golden Retriever on Wednesdays, and on the sixth Wednesday he gave her a wad of tens with one hand and palmed the back of her neck with the other, so she walked his dog to the beach and stole another hundred from his wallet. That his sister bombed an interview for a Nursing school and didn’t get home until night and missed their monthly call, and Jolie heard the phone ring and didn’t take a message, so his sister snuck into the CEO’s son’s villa and floated in the centre of their heated pool like a cloud. A pause, a breath, an Opheliean threat.

life cycle of massive stars ;

Switched to LCOMS this month because I was burnt out with RR and it made such the difference! I really love working on two novels at once because it keeps me consistently creative but also both of these books are so different so its always refreshing to bounce back into one from another. I have a whole update in the drafts rn for this so keeping this part brief but still love this book, still the best thing that has ever happened to me, me and this book will have a glorious summer wedding etc etc. These excerpts are from chapters that summarise the first semester of each character's first year and have to say it. has been Very Fun to get into the mindset of Freshers Melodrama. Here's Junie having a crisis and an unhealthy relationship with her hetero flatmate :( (alcohol cw for both excerpts)

In October you are drinking double espresso and trying to breathe normally in lectures and you are trying to figure out your favourite colour because Fleur asked and you stumbled out an answer (Purple, I think. Violet? Lavender? Indigo?) and it didn’t match hers (I like yellow. I like sunlight). You buy mugs from IKEA to paint you paint cats and fireworks and constellations and moon phases and daisies. You try to scratch paint stains off your desk. You do laundry at 2am. In October you colour code your notes with pastel highlighters. You go to the library at 3am. You paint your nails sunlight and hate it. You finish an essay that’s due in December. You knock on Fleur’s door at 8am so she makes her 9am. You wear off the shoulder tops and you let a girl dab glitter on your collarbones and you are watching Fleur kiss a boy from the neighbouring hall. You bite your sunlight nails. You break the handle off your IKEA constellation mug. You leave your keys in a lecture hall and stand at the reception for forty minutes waiting for them to realise that the keys on the desk have the moon chain you mentioned - or, you are waiting to say it yourself. You are watching the rain trail down your window. In October you get a halo headband tangled in your hair you are sipping a vampire themed cocktail that tastes like acetone you rip your heels off and you go home early and do laundry at 2am and you are waiting for the courage to tell Fleur you don’t like clubbing - or, you are waiting for her to ask where you are. In October you are many things / a good student a dancer a painter an angel a big sister an alarm clock you are nocturnal and a lucid dreamer and confused about your sexuality / and it’s still October but it’s not because it’s November now and you are still Junie but not because you don’t know who Junie is. It’s November, it’s September October November December. It’s 2016 2017 2018 2019. You are fragments and you don’t know if you are a kaleidoscope or shattered glass.

And here's first year Tomas being like I Moved Countries For University And All I Got Was Homesickness And A Crush On My Flatmate And Resurging Autistic Symptoms And This Lousy T Shirt (cw: vomit mention, injection mention, parental death mention)

Kristen is seven months younger and five inches taller than you. He’s the last flatmate you met and the only one you talk to beyond kitchen greetings and passive aggressive texts about dirty dishes. He is too quiet and too loud and not the type of person you befriend. The first night, he lost Ring of Fire and downed the concoction of Echo Falls, Dark Fruits, Jack Daniels and coke, vodka and lemonade alongside a cigarette and said he’d let God figure out the rest. He held your hair back when you threw up amaretto and held onto your knee when you first self-injected testosterone. He taught you Yorkshire dialect and you pretended to understand the Yorkshire dialect. He told you he got diagnosed at four and you told him you didn’t get past the first assessment but sometimes you flick the bathroom light on and it’s fire: the orange on the orange towel is louder, the white on the white tiles are louder, the colours and light and sink and showerhead are prickly and all you can do is blink and breathe until it fizzles out. You reminded him to take his meds and asked if you were weak for wanting to drop out and hop on the first Eurostar to Rotterdam. He reminded you to take off your binder and asked if he was robotic for not grieving his mother. You spent inky nights on the kitchen floor, counting the dead flies in the lights and scooping crumbly coconut ice cream out of a maker you got for half price in TK Maxx. You spent dusk-dusted afternoons at the global street food markets, at the vegan markets. Spent student loans on raspberry lemonade in recycled cups, veggie burgers in beetroot buns, got him hooked on poffertjes and advocaat and could’ve cried when the vendor spoke to you in Dutch. Sometimes you didn’t buy anything. Just liked hovering at stalls ambered with fairy lights, writing down Etsy stores on your notes app; just liked Kristen’s impulse to trek forty minutes into the city for a market he didn’t know existed until five minutes before; just liked how he always invited only you, cancelling your other plans last minute, the feeling of being ambushed; just liked how he stopped to take photos of dogs and the sunset; just liked how he looked haloed under lampposts waiting for Ubers, golden on golden.

This is also nearing creative nonfiction because Sheffield truly is a haven for just. vegan markets and cafes lol! I experimented with veganism there and never struggled to find something and at this point I call myself a fake vegan because it's too easy to be vegan in Sheffield and too difficult to be vegan in my actual hometown. And the global street food markets!!! SO GOOD! I miss pre pandemic days

nocturne for the holy ;

Giving her a little shout out because she does exist actually! I've figured out a really good system for working on two novels at a time, so my plan is maybe to start properly on this after I finish either RR or LCOMS. Idk I got 3 novels to pick from haha oops! I did do some free drafting back in April though and found it recently and I Like It! And I edited it so it counts as Something I Did This Month :) Also have decided that I loathe this working title <3 Okay see you with an update for this novel in like a year, sorry for the absolute zero context for this excerpt hehe

The morning I was due back, I hadn’t yet decided that this would be my last visit. I wandered between rooms like an overstayed guest, like I didn’t know which crockery lived in which cabinet and which bedroom had the best view of the overlapped hills. Dad would wake for his run in an hour, plastered to his twenty-year-old routine. Mum would pretend to be asleep until breakfast. Until then, it was myself and the house, hazed by sleepy sunrise. Downstairs. The peeling paisley wallpaper in the lounge, the lilies in the middle of the kitchen table, the vases of candy floss pink peonies wilting on every windowsill, the desolate double swing-set in the garden. The mist-clogged mornings. I stood outside in my dressing-gown until my fingertips felt numb. Upstairs. The sage coloured bathroom. The bathtub I’d laze in with my clothes on and no water because it was the quietest room in the house. The dusty dance trophies on the top of my wardrobe. Wine-flushed Jeanette in my teenage bedroom. The stale grey mum painted my teenage bedroom after I moved out. Minus their room, I stalked the layout of the house three times before settling back into bed - teenage Nora’s bed. Nora who cared for peonies and pushed her brother on the swing set and flung her ceramic ballerina at the wall and jogged with her father and collected wine bottles and acorns and kisses from girls who were supposed to visit for dance practice. Before I left, I’d have cycled each room another three times. And in every room he was there, hovered in the corner like black mould.

love this update bc it's like i've got my third person, my second person, my first person! collecting all the POVs like chaos emeralds :)

eulogy for our burnings ;

-looks away-

girl help I did it AGAIN!!!! Apparently Camp Nano is just the perfect time for me to get novel ideas. I made this post specifically to talk a bit about this because I have no idea when I'll draft it but it's certainly not soon. This is not me trying to doubt my own skill but I feel like I am not in the place I'd like to be as a writer to tackle this project with the zest it needs, however I am v excited by the prospect of it! Don't know how I feel about the working title bc I'm like "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about this wip to dispute it" but the only purpose my working titles serve is to sound pretty lol! But here's the tea:

1991, UK.

2nd person present + past. Very flexible form. I can't decipher how yet but I'm feeling interviews, newspaper articles, receipts, grocery store lists weaved with actual narrative, that kinda vibe.

Best summary is we follow our nameless narrator, a stealth trans man, as he becomes unhealthily obsessed with a man who "hires" him to photograph the buildings he burns

Very,,, isolated? Minimal settings, minimal characters, minimal prose etc. Almost claustrophobic

There's basically only two characters and they are probably the most morally deplorable, indefensible characters I've created which just means most of you are gonna LOVE this /lh I do too I do too

Only comp title I can give is it has the vibes/tone of Boy Parts by Eliza Clark (just with none of the nsfw content lol if you've read the book you know what I'm talking about) (also that book is great for morally deplorable women protagonists but omg look up the content warnings because it caught me off guard! enjoyed it tho gave it 4 stars)

The pinterest board is the best visualisation of the Vibes also follow me on pinterest lol

And that's all I've got today! A bigger Life Cycle of Massive Stars update coming in the next few weeks. Might do a proper intro post for Eulogy For Our Burnings but idk!!! It's a surprise :) Thank you for reading this far!

#also i have LOTS to catch up on so if u tagged me in anything im gonna do a big queue of rb's soon! #promise im not ignoring anybody! #just barely functioning <3 #atlastracking #writing update #revelations revelations #life cycle of massive stars #nocturne for the holy #eulogy for our burnings

[joachimnapoleon]

“You can never know how attached to you I am”

Today (25 March) is the shared birthday of Joachim & Caroline Murat (in 1767 & 1782, respectively), so I've put together a little something to provide some insight into their relationship. There's one period in particular during which an abundance of letters exists from Caroline to Joachim: their long separation(s) during most of 1810. 

Joachim and Caroline arrived in Paris in December of 1809; Joachim returned to Naples at the end of January 1810, but Caroline remained in Paris. When arrangements began to be made for Napoleon's wedding to Marie-Louise of Austria, the Emperor chose Caroline to go out to meet the new Empress and accompany her back to France. Joachim briefly (and reluctantly) returned to Paris for the wedding, and then left again for Naples, where he was preparing to lead an expedition to capture Sicily and unite it to the throne of Naples. Caroline did not return to Naples until August, and it was another two months until she was reunited with Joachim.

The Murats' relationship had not been harmonious since Napoleon had put them on the throne of Naples in 1808. Joachim feared being relegated into a humiliating background role like the husbands of Caroline's sisters, and did all he could to minimize his wife's role in managing the kingdom's affairs. But the Neapolitan court soon divided into pro-Italian and pro-French factions, with Joachim as the figurehead of the former, and Caroline, the latter. As Joachim found himself increasingly out of favor with Napoleon, Caroline (and her faction) gained more influence, which further strained their relationship.

During their brief stay in Paris together for Napoleon's second wedding, however, a reconciliation occurred. Shortly after Joachim's departure, Caroline began to (correctly) suspect that she was pregnant. Her letters to Joachim during this period are full of affection, but also anxiety over his Sicilian expedition, and gently-worded advice/guidance on various political matters.

There are over sixty of these letters in Volume 8 of Murat's published correspondence (it’s a one-way affair; Caroline apparently was in the habit of destroying most of her received correspondence, so unfortunately very few of Murat’s letters to her remain, and none from this period). This post is a compilation of choice excerpts from some of these letters. I wanted to showcase a little of everything here--not just the affection and sweetness, but also the politics, Caroline's anxieties, Napoleon's stubbornness (note how long it takes Caroline to actually get permission to leave Paris and return to Naples later on), the references to their children, and a touch of Caroline sniping at Joachim for his "unfairness". And also, Caroline's voice isn't heard nearly enough in narratives about her life, which tend to revolve around her betrayal of her brother. These excerpts show a side to her with which most people are totally unfamiliar.

***

Source: Lettres et documents pour servir à l'histoire de Joachim Murat, Vol 8.

***

Paris, 3 February 1810

My sorrow is very deep and I am very sad over your departure. I await your news with impatience and I hope that you will give it to me soon.... I am with the Emperor in order to not cry at finding myself far away from my children. Embrace them for me and think that there is someone at the Pavillon de Flore who is very attached to you and thinks of you often.

***

Paris, 5 February 1810

I am very impatient to receive your news, it seems to me that you don't hurry to give it to me.... I am still very sad at finding myself all alone and I envy your happiness at being with our children. Embrace them tenderly for me. The Emperor is always very good to me, he spoils me, he speaks to me often of you and seems surprised that we still don't have your news. Write me very quickly.

***

Paris, 6 February 1810

I very much regret not being with you. I weep from sadness, you can never know how attached to you I am and all the happiness that I wish for you. If you go to the provinces, watch out for those wicked Calabrians.

***

Paris, (7 or 8?) February 1810

We went to the ball at Princess Pauline's yesterday and today to the hunt, the weather was very wet and the Emperor told me: "Ah well! The Lazarone forgets you, he no longer thinks of you, he is going to be very upset, because I'm marrying an Austrian." But all this while laughing. I believe that since he is marrying an Austrian, you should not show any repugnance, because as it is neither you nor I who can decide it, that it is apparently his policy which gives him this counsel.... I hope that you will come back for the wedding and that you will bring me back to Naples to leave you no more. Embrace our children for me, don't spoil Letitia and Achille too much, consider that children are not born for our pleasure but to make them happy. Do like me, I've often deprived myself of the pleasure of seeing them, for fear of spoiling them.

Adieu, Naples; Naples, I miss you, as well as the beautiful terrace.

***

Paris, 12 February 1810

I am very sad. There is talk that I will make a great voyage. The Emperor desires that I go to Braunau to find the new Empress.... When everything is decided, I will send you an auditor to tell you the day of my departure and the time of my absence.... I write to Achille often, I hope that he makes a collection of my letters. Don't take Letitia out too much, it will hurt Achille and Lucien.

***

Paris, 24 February 1810

The evening before yesterday, I had an accident that might have become a disaster, but was nothing more than a fright.

We were playing blind man’s buff in the Emperor’s apartments, when the hard and pointy forehead of Mme Duchatel came so unfortunately against my eye that the blow tripped me over. The Emperor supported me in his arms and prevented me from falling. The pain had been so bad that I gave a sharp cry and believed my eye was out of its socket. The Emperor, full of kindness, frightened for my situation, immediately called Ivan, who bathed my eye, put a poultice and a black blindfold on it, and soon I had the air of an invalid in the midst of the salon. The Emperor has showered me with attention, he came to see me, he has been anxious. Today, I have a great contusion, my eye is very black from extravasated blood, but I don’t have any pain. I am aggrieved to have to tell it to you, since you like Mme Duchatel, you find her to your tastes, but she has terribly pointy bones that hurt a lot. Indeed, the poor woman has been desolate to see me in this state by her fault.

Don’t be too worried about my accident. By the time you receive this letter, it won’t be visible anymore.

***

Paris, 27 February 1810

I strongly urge you to come for the wedding. Jérôme, the Viceroy [Eugène], Elisa, all the family will be reunited, your absence will have a bad effect and will greatly upset the Emperor. You know that I will be very glad to see you, but I assure you that it is your interest alone which makes me press you to come, because the Emperor will be very discontent. If, however, you have strong oppositions which will prevent you from making this journey, write to me secretly and if this occurs, write a charming letter to the Emperor to excuse yourself. But I repeat to you, I regard your arrival for the wedding as a very useful thing to our interests. The Emperor is excessively occupied with his future, he speaks of it all the time and is almost in love with it. Everyone who was opposed to the marriage is now in joy. You know my good and my constant friendship for you; listen to the counsels of a friend who only desires your happiness. Show no more opposition which will turn to your detriment; your inclination for the Russian alliance will become suspect in the eyes of the Emperor, who wants us to think like him.... I am charged by the Emperor with the formation of the household of the new Empress. I work from morning to evening and my apartments are always full of visits from solicitors. I cannot express to you all the sorrows I had from the fear of being named superintendent of the Empress's House, but I could not decide on it, because I would have needed to stay absent from Naples for two years and been deprived of the pleasure of seeing you as well as my children. The Emperor made me the most beautiful and kindest propositions and his intention was to elevate this position so much that it would not have been beneath the title of Queen.... You see that the Emperor wanted to do a very kind thing for me, but the separation I would've had from my family caused me too much pain, and without offending the Emperor, who always has a perfect kindness for me, I managed to see him forget this plan, because he perceived that it hurt me too much. The intention of the Emperor in fixing me with the new Empress for two years was to have her led as he desired and to prevent a crowd of people who think badly from surrounding her and showing her their bad feelings.

***

Paris, 28 February 1810

I do not want to complain of you, but I hope that on my return you will spoil me so much that I won't want to come back to Paris. Don't be upset by this little jest and read the charming letter from Joseph that I'm sending you, and give to Achille and Letitia the letters their uncle wrote them. Embrace them for me. I am very happy at the idea of seeing you again soon.

***

Munich, 18 March 1810

I sighed at the description you gave me of your dinner with our dear children, and I am quite sure that you thought of me; my entire heart and soul go continually with and amidst you. I am charmed that Achille is satisfied with his electric machine; it seems that our dear Louise will still read before Lucien, but this is not astonishing: this poor little one is still too slow in his studies by some indisposition.

***

Vitry-sur-Marne, 26 March 1810

Princess Pauline just wrote to me that you complain about me not writing you often; so you will never stop being unfair. I arrive very fatigued, very overwhelmed with matters and I often take away from my sleep in order to write you and yet you complain! I write you more letters than I receive from you. Adieu, I will be happy when you still stop being unfair, because your unfairness has always hurt me very much. I embrace you and love you very tenderly.

***

Compiègne, 18 April 1810

You have left, my dear friend, and I am very sad here. I hope that you will write me a little word before your departure from Paris and that you will promise to give me your news often along the road. Don't leave me for a long time without your letters like on the first journey, and consider that when we are separated, we are happy to receive the news of those we love very tenderly. You know if you are dear to me and if I can part in thought for even a moment with the father of my children. You are going to see them, those dear children, speak to them of their mother and embrace them for me. At the moment of your departure I still wanted to tell you many things for them, but those moments are always cruel and make you lose everything you had in mind. Adieu, my dear friend, believe that I will write you often and that we will still have in common the displeasures as well as the happiness of life.

***

Compiègne, 22 April 1810

I'm very afraid that you will not take Sicily, do not undertake this expedition if you are not sure to succeed.... The Emperor seems to me very well disposed towards you and he spoke to me about you a lot yesterday.... I am going to tell you also that I was penetrated with sorrow seeing you leave and especially penetrated by the kindness you had for me; you have never been like that and I admit that it filled me with tenderness, and it gave me the courage to ask you for what I want, without having the fear of you getting angry as you always did, which made me want to ask you for nothing nor to owe you anything.... [the end of the letter is missing]

***

Compiègne, 26 April 1810

My very dear friend, I spoke to the Emperor about the licenses and he told me he was going to send them to you, which, I am sure, will give you great pleasure. I am leaving at five o'clock in the morning to go to Saint-Quentin; will not be on the great voyage [with the Emperor and Empress], because my health is not too good, having always the same hopes, I would be afraid of fatiguing myself.

***

Paris, 4 May 1810

Yesterday, I was at Neuilly to dine with Paulette, I cannot tell you how sad I was to see once more the places which painfully reminded me of our children and you and our walks; it's a very beautiful place and the weather was superb.... Adieu, my dear friend, my health is still faltering and I am anxious about your expedition, give me your news as quickly as possible and believe in a tenderness unbounded. Adieu, my friend.

***

Paris, 6 May 1810

I will confess to you that I believe more than ever that I am pregnant, and my very sufferings prove it to me, I'm taking care of myself and I don't want to expose myself to any fatigue which might do me harm.... Write to me soon and tell me exactly if you believe you will make the Sicily expedition. This Sicily [expedition] worries me very much and I tremble at the idea of all the fatigues you are going to suffer.

***

Paris, 8 May 1810

I received your letter from the 27th which tells me of your arrival in Naples. I cannot tell you how much good and bad it did me. My poor children! To see them in your arms asking you for their mother is an image that brings me to tears. My God! When we are once again reunited, we must not be separated anymore. You have found them so grown, charming, judge what they will appear to me after a longer absence. Embrace them for me, repeat to them that their mother will never be perfectly happy far from them, far from you.

***

Paris, 11 May 1810

My dear friend, this latest separation seems more unbearable for me than the others. You were so good, so perfect to me in your last moments, that those proceedings touched me to tears and still penetrate me with tenderness. I confess to you that when you do justice to all my feelings for you, I am the happiest of women. Believe that my happiness, the happiness of my whole life, consists only of the happiness of the father of my children, of the one who I regard as my best friend.

***

Morfontaine, 16 May 1810

My dear friend, I am here since yesterday and I confess to you that these places have given me a very agreeable sensation; it is here where we were united, this is where I began to have for you the feelings that I still retain, plus those added by esteem, habit, and good friendship. I would like to see you here with me, and I believe that my happiness would lack nothing, if we could join our dear children here.

***

Paris, 19 May 1810

I am very sensitive to all the care you are taking for my apartments; the idea that you are occupying yourself with them makes these cares all the more pleasant. You've been so good to me for some time that I cannot express to you how sensitive I am to it. It is very sweet for me to take all the pleasures of my life and my happiness from you who I love very tenderly. You are right, we will be very happy, when we will be reunited, take care of your health.... Adieu, my friend, I embrace you from the bottom of my heart.

***

Paris, 31 May 1810

I desire so much to see you, to embrace you, I think unceasingly of all your fatigues, I fear also that your health might not sustain itself with this great heat, I fear so many things that I am always in a continual state of anxiety. Write to me at least as often as you are able and reflect how unhappy I am every time the estafette arrives without bringing me your letters.

***

Paris, 1 June 1810

My pregnancy advances, however I am not getting too fat and it is not very apparent, but I often have sicknesses that tire me greatly; I am of an unequaled impatience to return to Naples, it seems to me that I will be closer to you and that at least I will share in part your fatigues, your disagreements, your dangers and that I will have your news at each instant. The Emperor arrives today and I will ask him to leave in eight days, I can no longer remain here, I am bored, I am anxious, it is not living to exist like this. And my poor children! I have so great a need to embrace them!

***

Saint-Cloud, 6 June 1810

My dear friend, I hope to depart on the 30th, the fêtes will finish on the 25th, but the Emperor will not hear of me leaving before all the fêtes are finished; he fills me with kindness and is very good for you... I embrace you as I love you, which is to say, very tenderly.

***

Saint-Cloud, 16 June 1810

I have already sounded out the Emperor two or three times about my departure, but he always responds with an angry air: "To put yourself en route with this heat!" I haven't dared to insist and I'm waiting for the fêtes to be terminated to beg him to permit me to go rejoin my children and to put myself closer to you. I hope he will grant it to me, because he is very good for both of us. I receive every day news of our children and it is a great compensation for such a cruel absence. I believed I would only be separated from them for one month and here are seven months elapsed.

***

Rambouillet, 9 July 1810

My very dear friend, you are kindness itself to profit from all your free moments to give me your news and to calm my vivid worries; at last, you are able to cross, I make wishes for it to be with full success, but I still recommend prudence; reflect that your existence belongs to your wife and to your children....

***

Rambouillet, 18 July 1810

I was a little indisposed yesterday, I am better today, I count on taking leave of the Emperor tomorrow, and, if he grants it to me, I will depart the day after tomorrow. Adieu, my dear friend, I have an extreme desire to embrace you, I feel that I will only be happy and calm when I see you near me again; absence is too cruel a thing for two beings who truly love each other, and reunited to our children, what happiness could we envy?

***

23 July 1810, 1 o'clock in the morning

My dear friend, I'm leaving in one hour. In twelve days I will embrace my children. I will arrive in Naples unannounced, because I want neither fêtes nor pleasures in your absence.

***

Caserta [Naples], 3 August 1810

I only have the time to tell you, my dear friend, that I have arrived in good health, that I am the happiest of mothers, that my happiness was not complete, not having you with me, but that I am already happier by the idea that I am nearer to you and that I will have your news more often. I found our children grown, beautified; in truth, we have nothing to complain of, we are at the height of happiness by possessing such a treasure. I don't speak to you of their cries of joy, or of their tears, you can guess all of that. Oh! My friend! What a delicious moment! I will have the same when I see you again and then we will not have to complain about anything, since we will all be reunited.

***

Unfortunately, the immediate aftermath to this series of hopeful and loving letters, was not a happy one. Caroline's fifth (and final) pregnancy ended in a miscarriage in September. At that same time, Murat's Sicilian expedition took a frustrating turn; Murat's authority over the French troops participating in the expedition was undermined by orders from Napoleon to his generals, leading to their refusal to take part in the attempted (and ultimately abortive) crossing to Sicily. The expedition ended in failure and Murat returned to Naples deeply embittered. Over the next year, his relationship with Napoleon reached its lowest point--one could argue the lowest point it would reach up until its total rupture in 1814--and Caroline would find herself returning to Paris in 1811 to try to bridge the gap between her husband and her brother (again).

#Happy Murat Day! #Joachim Murat #Caroline Murat #Caroline Bonaparte #Napoleon #Napoleon Bonaparte #letters #translations #1810

[melancholic-pigeon]

WIP Wednesday- HIOB chapter 12

Content warning for brief references to a past suicidal episode. (The actual thing is lighthearted!)

It's suggestive, but not actually NSFW. They're just having a post-scene bath. 😘

...I'm excusing this excerpt being long because I am like five words under 6k rn. I wasn't kidding about Jason not being able to shut the fuck up.

It's strange how little sex involved. 

Mostly, they just talk, Percy curled up against Jason's chest as the jets pound into the knot that stubbornly reasserted itself almost as soon as they parted ways. They're off now, and the relative silence is odd, but calming.

Percy's exhausted too, although he doesn't seem to realize how much effort he's expending in his (largely successful) attempts to deal with Jason's exhaustion. He yawns into Jason's shoulder, vividly calling back a thousand memories.

"It was really, really hard not to tell you I loved you," Jason says quietly, after a few moments of soft splashing and conversational lull. Percy lifts his head, wet hair sticking to his jaw.

"You told me all the time. Your love language, ironically, is 'acts of service'." He smirks, inexplicably soft. "It's just that you only used the actual words once."

Of course he knows what they're talking about— this is probably just as nostalgic for him. Jason's pulse quickens, residually feeling that long-ago crushing terror. 

("You and I both know that right now you'd say almost anything to get me to—"

"Did it occur to you that I might be willing to say almost anything, including the truth? Because the truth, Percy, is that I'm being selfish, because you're my friend and I love you and I really don't want to lose you.")

"I hadn't even thought it to myself yet. It just— popped into my head and came out of my mouth. Not that I didn't know, but I hadn't faced up to how serious it had gotten."

Percy tilts his head. He looks thoughtful and tender. 

"We really are foils, huh? I faced up to it when I cried on your shoulder for the first time, I just had no fuckin' clue what I was facing up to." 

"We're counterweights, too." Jason brushes back that strand of hair, mostly as an excuse to cup Percy's cheek. "Like how I'm emotionally constipated and you wear your heart on your sleeve." 

"My mom told me that exact thing the morning after senior prom." Percy, smiling, leans into the touch. "Just the part about me. It was how she knew I was smitten. Apparently, I'd been making moony eyes at you since I got out of the hospital."

Jason's inner seventeen year old shivers with delight. They haven't even been together for six months yet, but it feels like they've been in love their whole lives. Like maybe they've been in love for several lives already.

"I admire how expressive you are. I—" 

He stops himself, grimacing slightly. Percy picks up the slack. 

"You have a lot of feelings, but every time you showed them, it got you screamed at. You learned to hold it in because you didn't have a choice, but that doesn't make you any less sensitive— it's not so much that you have a thick skin and more that you've learned to push through your pain. Which is also why you reinjure at least two things per season and insist on continuing to play until you're forcibly benched." He narrows his eyes. "Hint hint." 

Jason slides his hand around the back of Percy's neck and pulls him down again, ignoring the jab. 

"If you ever go back to school, you should seriously consider counseling as a career path."  

"I am, actually." Percy sits up and grins, a fierce, thunderous determination in it. "I want to be a licensed clinical social worker. I can add to the pool of 'em who don't totally suck, and at this point I'm something of an expert at needing therapy, so my clients and I will have that experience in common."

"That's perfect for you." Jason kisses the top of Percy's head. "You're incredibly insightful and compassionate. You always know what to say and how to say it, and it's not even on purpose— it's what's sincerely in your heart. The only people who ever doubt how much you care about them are the ones who aren't paying attention." 

Percy buries his face in Jason's neck and raspberries his upper trapezius. 

"Gee, tell me how you really feel."

They're both flushed from the steam, but Jason has a feeling they would be anyway. 

"You knew this about me, babe." 

"Shut up. Just because I like it doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I'll tone it down if you want me to," Jason tells him, smiling. He knows what the answer will be before Percy even shakes his head. 

"Nah, I'm worse. I used to, like, wistfully tell people, 'oh, Jason's the best—'" he puts on that slightly-mocking tone he uses when he's quoting himself like this— "'he's such a great dude, he's so good at calming me down, I can only fall asleep when he's holding me, I don't know what I'd do without him, also his tits are very nice, yes, I'm sure I'm straight, why do you ask?'" 

Jason snorts. "You see my point about how quickly and easily you show people your love." 

"I'm not the only one." Percy sits up a little, his hand on Jason's chest to brace himself. "You try to be stoic, but what you really are is steady. People gravitate to you when they're upset or scared because they know you'll protect them, and they end up trailing behind you like ducklings. You don't show you hurt, but you definitely show you care."

Jason runs his hand over Percy's back where the cool shower soothed away the irritation. 

"See? You always know what to say." 

#i wrote this #wip wednesday #jercy #stellarverse

[lfcrobbo]

⭐️✨

hiiiiiii!! this has been in my inbox for so long now.... i think my brain needed some time where i was NOT over-analyzing my own writing but NOW i'm up for it again lol. uhh this is a director's commentary on a brief excerpt from december makes me quiet, which is a fic that i honestly. haven't thought that much about since i posted it but i'm thinking about it NOW so. here is the start of the scene on the couch, when they're watching the documentary

Earlier, Seb had mentioned a documentary on Netflix he’d been meaning to watch. Now, Charles insists that they watch it.

Seb tries his best to focus on the documentary, but it’s hard. Bruno has decided to occupy almost half of the couch, leaving Charles sitting right next to him, so close their shoulders are almost touching. [is there ANYTHING worse/better/more mortifying than being Too Aware of how close you're sitting to your crush. to me (and seb) the answer is no] Seb could move; get up and sit in the armchair instead, but he’s not sure how to do it without being too obvious about it. Charles doesn’t seem to mind the proximity; his body fully relaxed into the cushions and eyes fixed on the screen, [cute that seb thinks this, when in fact charles is also hyper-aware of how close they are sitting... seb is just too in his own head about this, about CHARLES really, to notice] where David Attenborough is talking about deforestation and biodiversity. [besties when i tell you that i made sure this documentary that isn't really important to the plot at all was a real documentary on netflix, i am NOT joking. i haven't actually watched it lol, but it's called breaking boundaries and i did skim through it so that i could reference exactly what attenborough was talking about. if that's not #dedication then i DON'T KNOW WHAT IS]

He can feel the warmth from Charles’ body, and he can smell the shampoo he’d borrowed earlier, Seb’s shampoo. [i was like. should i include a scene where charles walks out of the shower and seb gets flustered about it, but ultimately couldn't find a place to fit it in] It’s all very distracting, and just a bit too much for Seb. His body is tense, worried about what he might be tempted to do if he allows himself to relax too much.

“Does it not make you feel guilty?” [oh i thought i was so clever for this little line, charles voicing exactly how seb is feeling, but also completely unaware at how right he is. also re: what i said before about how he's NOT as comfortable as he looks, this is his way of trying to distract himself]

Charles’ voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He panics for a second, thinking maybe Charles has seen through him, has figured out how he feels and what he wants. [so. stuck in his own head. so, sooo obsessed w charles, terrified that he's going to be confronted, because what. can he even say to defend himself] But Charles is still looking at the screen, and his brows are knitted together, head tilted slightly to the side.

Seb clears his throat. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“This,” Charles says, gesturing to the screen. He turns his head slightly to look up at Seb. “All of it.” [charles is. listen he's pretty, and he IS smart, but i don't think he's at a point in his life where he really. has thought about this too much. he thinks about racing, he thinks about having a good time with his friends. he thinks about how hot seb is when he talks about something he cares about, but he doesn't really. think about the things that seb cares about too much. at least he hasn't, until now.]

“Climate change?” Seb asks. He keeps his eyes on the TV, wary of how close their faces will be if he turns towards Charles.

“Yes, of course, but,” Charles says. He’s still looking at the side of Seb’s face. “I was thinking- watching these documentaries, and reading articles, and books and whatever. Does it not just make you feel guilty about everything?” [lmao not a great take from charles, a little bit of a danny ric take actually. again i think charles just. is at his core a rich, white boy. he's a NICE rich white boy, and he has a big heart, but at the end of the day he doesn't like to think about things like this. he's GETTING there tho, like. i think he does care it's just. very easy to ignore. not sure if i'm. explaining this very well. my point is charles is like very many of my friends who just sometimes get exhausted by thinking about current events and doesn't like when it's brought up because it makes them feel bad. sux to be them, our world is on fire tho so like. okay moving on now]

Seb hums thoughtfully. “I suppose,” he says. “But maybe we’re supposed to feel a little guilty about it.” [if we feel guilty, we are more likely to change our behaviour!! is where seb is coming from. ALSO to bring this back to the fic and away from the social commentary on people's reaction to climate change (lol sorry), this is also about seb's guilt about his feelings for charles. he thinks he's supposed to feel guilty, because he thinks it's not right (charles has a gf, charles isn't interested in him, seb is older than him and at a very different stage in his life) ((also commentary on the commentary, have been thinking a lot about age gaps and f1 lately. not specific to f1 but SO many of the (30+) drivers are dating women ~ten years younger than them. but then you also have like. max, lewis, mark w, who are/have been in relationships w women a fair amount of years older than them. also re: sebchal i don't necessarily think ten years is THAT bad, but mostly because in their case i think. they're very equal, especially now that they're not teammates anymore. the reason i often like. comment on it in my writing is because i think SEB would feel weird/guilty about it, but also ultimately i think. he gets over it. sorry sorry i have so much to say always)

Charles seems to consider that, letting the words hang in the air between them. “I don’t like it,” he says, eventually. [again, charles is just. a 24 year old who's main concern is to drive fast cars and win. he doesn't like feeling guilty about things that are out of his control, and would prefer to just not think about it] His eyes return to the screen, and Seb finally feels like he can breathe again. He peers at him out of the corner of his eyes, notes the slight frown and the way his eyebrows are still pinched together.

Seb lets out a small chuckle. He resists the urge to reach out and tangle his fingers in his hair, and smooth out the wrinkles that are forming on Charles’ forehead. [oh seb's crush on him is so big it's embarrassing] “You’ll have to do something about it, then,” he says.

A small smile replaces Charles’ frown. “Maybe I can help you make your bee hotels,” he says. [THIS charles can do. care about the environment by spending time with seb.]

“Maybe,” Seb says. He smiles too, at the thought.

Charles turns to look at him again. “I don’t think I could do what you do,” he says.

Sebastian furrows his brows. “You do do what I do,” [haha. dodo💩] he says, confused. Hell, these last few years he’s done what they both do a hell of a lot better than Sebastian, if you look at the numbers. [ahh i think their relationship and how it relates to racing/results is so interesting. seb is always talking about how he doesn't like to look back, to dwell on things, but i think sometimes he can't really help himself.] He sees Charles shake his head slightly.

“Not the racing,” Charles says. He twists further around, so he’s almost facing Seb entirely, his elbow propped onto the back of the couch. Bruno shifts from where he had been settled on Charles’ lap to curl up in the corner of the couch. “The- caring. With your helmets and your bee hotels and your- litter picking. It is very inspiring, I think.” [seb CARES!! and charles notices that seb cares. also charles is being so obvious here. he has been thinking about seb for SO long, is so. enamored. infatuated. obsessed. thinks seb is incredible. is inspired by it but also. as previously stated. doesn't want to think about why these things are necessary.]

Sebastian frowns. He turns his head slightly. “You could do all of those things,” he says. [seb really. doesn't think what he does is anything special. he just knows that he has to do SOMETHING, because he doesn't want to just say he cares about something and then do nothing. but he's under no illusion that he's doing something extraordinary.]

Charles shakes his head. “Not like you do them,” he says, voice sincere. [charles. definitely thinks seb is extraordinary]

#read more bc i have so much to say always...... #anyways THANK YOU for sending this ask SOO long ago 🥰🥰 #ask #astronomical-light #december makes me quiet