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breadqueen95 · 3 years

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Dress - Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader

wc: 5k

plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier.

content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt.

a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him

***

Damn. That was a lot of leg.

“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”

“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”

“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.

But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.

“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”

“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.

“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.

“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”

“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”

Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.

“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.

What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.

Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…

At that point you were in love.

But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.

As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.

And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.

“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”

“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.

What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.

***

Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.

You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.

It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?

And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…

Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.

It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.

Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.

So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.

It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.

Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?

Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.

“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?

After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.

“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”

“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”

“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”

“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.

“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”

“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”

“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”

“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”

“Nope, not a chance.”

“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”

His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.

“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”

“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.

His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.

“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?

“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”

“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”

“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”

You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.

“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”

“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.

“Uh…um…get on with what?”

“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”

“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?

“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.

“Well you better kiss me, then.”

As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.

***

That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.

All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.

You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…

Damn, you felt sexy.

And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.

But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.

The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?

The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.

As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.

“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.

“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”

Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.

The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.

Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”

“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.

“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.

“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”

“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.

Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?

Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.

As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.

“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”

“Is that all?”

Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.

“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”

“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”

Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.

“I want you.”

It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.

“Well why don’t you—”

“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”

Was…was he slurring his words?

“Thor…are you drunk right now?”

He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.

“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”

“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?

“Of course, metal appendage.”

“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”

“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.

“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.

“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”

“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”

“Bucky—”

“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”

Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.

And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.

***

As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.

For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.

Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…

But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.

But god damn, that dress.

Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?

She was breathtaking.

“Buck, you breathing?”

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.

“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.

“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”

Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.

“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”

“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”

“…fuck.”

“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.

Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”

“We’re that obvious?”

“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”

“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.

***

“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”

“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”

Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.

“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”

“What do you me—”

Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.

Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.

“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”

“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”

Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”

“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.

The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.

As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.

Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.

“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”

He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.

Oh damn.

Okay.

No complaints here.

“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”

The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.

“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.

“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”

***

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x you #dress #jenna writes #i love lanie #laniestaylorswiftwc

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potteresque-ire · 3 years

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More ask answer about Word of Honour (山河令, WoH) and the so-called “Dangai 101 phenomenon” under the cut ~ with all the M/M relationships shown on screen, does it mean improved acceptance / safety for the c-queer community?

Due to its length (sorry!), I’ve divided the answer into 3 parts: 1) Background 2) Excerpts from the op-eds 3) Thoughts This post is PART 1 ❤️. As usual, please consider the opinions expressed as your local friendly fandomer sharing what they’ve learned, and should, in no ways, be viewed as necessarily true. :)

(TW: homophobic, hateful speech quoted)

After WoH had started airing, I had waited for one of China’s state-controlled media to publish opinion pieces about the show. Specifically, I’d like to know ~ what is the administration’s current take on Dangai (耽改), as a genre? How does it characterise the closeness of the same-sex leads—the closeness that is suppressed when the original IP, of the genre Danmei (耽美) was converted for visual media presentation?

This is important, as China is a country where the government’s attitude becomes the official public attitude. The state opinion pieces will be quoted and parroted, especially if they come from heavy-weight sources (state-controlled media also have their importance/influence hierarchy). Production of the upcoming Dangai dramas will adjust their scripts accordingly. Marketing tactics will also adjust, make sure it doesn’t spread “the wrong message”; Dangai and Danmei dramas have both been pulled off shelves during or immediately after its airing before (Addicted 上癮 and Guardian 鎮魂, respectively), despite having already passing the censorship board.

If a heavy-weight state opinion piece pans the one-lead-fawning-over-the-other scenes in WoH (there are a few of them), for example, scenes / lines of such suggestive nature will likely disappear from the upcoming Dangai dramas for at least a year or two. If the critique spills over to a harsh stance against the presence of queers in Chinese media, all future Dangai dramas can become strict “socialist-brotherhood” stories, their “no homo” message reinforced by, for example, by inserting a female lead (or changing one of the leads to female).

Whether the official public opinion equates the true public opinion or not, public behaviour in China is quickly driven by the official public opinion. Example: the Xi regime’s conservative stance on queer issues has already translated to a quick deterioration of queer tolerance in China; open expressions that were tolerated, even welcomed, just several years ago are now met with significant hostility in the public.

This is a reflection of the nature of their government. A quick thought experiment may explain this. Take … jaywalking. It’s probably fair to say we’ve all committed this “crime” before?

Will you still jaywalk if your government declares it immoral to do so? Where I am, in the United States, the answer is definitely a no. The public will probably laugh at (and make memes about) the poor official who made the declaration, kindly ask the government to do something useful for once (f*** off), and keep jaywalking.

Now, what if the declaration comes with a law that includes a one-year prison term + lifelong criminal record for jaywalking? Let’s say this law is fully executable and irreversible, given this being a thought experiment—nothing you, or the public, can say or do can contest it.

Will you still jaywalk, even if you disagree with government’s stance that the act is immoral? You’ve got a neighbour who continues to defy the law. Will you think twice before letting your young loved ones go out with them?

Very soon, jaywalking becomes “bad”—even though such “badness” had little moral basis at its origin. It is bad because the government has “characterised” it to be so—an authoritarian government that doesn’t allow challenge of the characterisation.

The retention of queer elements in Dangai is the jaywalking in the example. The Chinese government stepping in to characterise (定性) an event, a phenomenon etc is common, and the people know the drill well that they fall in line quickly.

If a powerful state-controlled media publish a negative opinion piece on the queer elements in Dangai / Danmei, therefore, those elements can disappear overnight.

My question had been: will the state do it? The Xi regime has made its distaste for LGBT+ representation in visual media abundantly clear with its NRTA directives. However, while the Chinese government typically puts ideology (意識型態) as its Guiding Principle, exceptions have always been made for one reason. One word.

Money.

TU is a legendary financial success story every production company (Tencent itself included) wants to replicate. As a result, there are ~ 60 Danmei IPs (book canon) with their copyright sold for Dangai dramas; this long line of Danmei dramas in the horizon has been nicknamed “Dangai 101”, after the name of the show “Produce 101” Dd was dance instructor in. These dramas are all competing to be the next TU by profit.

Adoration from fans is nice, but money is what matters.

C-ent is currently in a financial bleak winter. The anti-corruption, anti-tax-fraud campaign started by the Xi regime in 2018, which cumulated to a sudden (and unofficial) collection of 3 years of back-taxes from studios and stars, has drained a significant amount of its capital; the number of new TV dramas being filmed fell 45% between 2018 and 2019, and production companies have been closing by the tens of thousands. The tightening of censorship rules also means production is associated with more risk. The commercial sector outside c-ent is also eager for replications of TU’s success—they need more “top traffic” (頂流) idols like Gg and Dd whose fans are sufficiently devoted to drive the sales of their products. Such “fan economy” would benefit the government, even if it doesn’t have direct stakes in the companies in and outside c-ent. People’s Daily, the Official State Newspaper, previously published a positive opinion piece on fan economy in 2019, estimating its worth at 90 billion RMB (~13.7 billion USD) per year.

But if the state allows the queer elements in Dangai’s to pass the censorship board (NRTA) for profit, how can it do so with the current “No homo” directive in place? From previous experience (scarce as it may be), the queerness has to be sufficiently obvious for the shows to make the profit everyone is wishing for. Dangai dramas in which the leads’ romantic relationship remains subtle have not sold the way TU does, even if they are well-reviewed and feature famous, skilled actors (as Winter Begonia 鬓边不是海棠红 last year.)

NRTA, and the government behind it, can’t just say I’m turning a blind eye to the flirting and touching for the money. What can it say then?

Here’s what I’d thought—what it can say, or do, is to “characterise” these Dangai dramas in a way that leave out its queerness. It did so for TU. TU’s review by the overseas version of People’s Daily devoted a grand total of two characters to describe WWX and LWJ’s relationship—摯友 (“close friend”). The rest of the article was devoted to the drama’s aesthetics, its cultural roots. (The title of the article: 《陳情令》：書寫國風之美 Chen Qing Ling: Writing the Beauty of National Customs).

How could it do that? The State’s power ensuring few questioning voices aside, I’ve been also thinking about the history and definition of Danmei (耽美)—Dangai’s parent genre as the causes. Based on the history and definition, I can think of 3 ways the queer elements in Danmei (耽美) can be characterised by the state, 2 of which provide it with the wiggle room, the movable goalposts it needs should it choose to want to overlook the queerness in Dangai.

The 3 characterisations I’ve thought of, based on the history and definition of Danmei (耽美) are:

1) The queer characterisation, which focuses on its homoerotic element. * Summary of the characterization: Danmei is gay.

2) The “traditional BL” characterisation, which focuses on BL’s historic origin as a “by women, for women” genre. The M/M setup is viewed as an escapist protest against the patriarchy, a rejection of traditional gender roles; displays of M/M closeness are often “candies” for the female gaze. * Summary of the characterization: Danmei is women’s fantasy.

3) The aesthetic characterisation, which focuses on beauty—from the beauty of the characters, the beauty of a world without harm to the romance. * Summary for the characterization: Danmei is pretty.

The queer characterisation (1) is well-understood, and likely the default characterisation if it is to be made by the fraction of i-fandom I’m familiar with. Most i-fans I’ve met, myself included, would likely and automatically associate the M/M relationships in The Untamed (TU) and WoH with queerness.

The “traditional BL” characterisation (2), meanwhile, equates Danmei with BL as the genre of homoerotic works developed in 1970’s Japan for women comic readers, and has been widely interpreted from a feminist point of view.

Under such interpretation of “traditional BL” works, the double male lead setup wasn’t meant to be an accurate depiction of homosexuality. It wasn’t about homosexuality at all. Rather, it was about the removal of women and along with it, the rage, the eye-rolling, the unease women readers had often felt when attempting to interact with mainstream romance novels of the time, in which the female leads had mostly been confined to traditional women roles, and their virtue, their traditional feminine traits.

The M/M setup therefore acted as a “shell” for a het relationship that allowed removal of such social constraints placed on women. The lead with whom the woman audience identified was no longer bound to the traditional role of women, such as being the caregiver of the family. The lead could instead chase their dreams and roam the world, as many contemporary women already did or aspired to do; they were no longer limited to playing the passive party in life and in the relationship—and they enjoyed such freedom without risking the love, the respect the other male protagonist felt for them.

BL, in this traditional sense, has therefore been interpreted as an answer for, and a protest against the heteropatriarchal gender norm still dominant in societies deeply influenced by Confucianism, including Japan, Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong, China. The M/M setup is, at heart, (het) women’s fantasy. The inclusion of two young-and-beautiful male leads also satisfy “the female gaze” ~ the popularity of BL among het women has therefore been compared to the popularity of lesbian porn among het men. In both cases, the audience is drawn not for the homosexual element but by the presence of double doses of sexual attraction.

(Please forgive me if any of my wording comes as disrespectful! I’m not used to talking about these topics.)

The availability of the “traditional BL” characterisation (2) is key to bypassing queerness as a topic in the discussions of Danmei (耽美).

The aesthetic characterisation (3) is very closely related to 2) in origin, but deserves its own point as a characterisation that can stand on its own, and may be more obscure to the English-speaking fandom given the common English translation of Danmei (耽美) as Boy’s Love.

Boy’s Love, as a name, amplifies the queer characterisation (1) and de-emphasises the aesthetic characterisation (3); Danmei (耽美), meanwhile, does the reverse.

Where does the name Danmei come from?

When BL was first developed in Japan, it used to have a now out-of-fashion genre name: Tanbi. Tanbi was borrowed from same name describing a late 19th century / early 20th century Japanese literary movement, known as Tanbi-ha and was inspired by Aestheticism in England. Aestheticism “centered around the doctrine that art exists for the sake of its beauty alone, and that it need serve no political, didactic, or other purpose”. Along the same line, the core belief of authors of Tanbi-ha was that art should celebrate beauty and reject the portrayal of ugliness in human nature, the darkness of reality:

…Tanbi writers argued that the ideas of naturalism writers such as “objectivism,” “truth is more important than beauty” and so on would “oppress human beings’ desire” so as to “lose beauty and human nature.” Accordingly, they insisted on “acute mental and emotional sensibility” [Ye, 2009].

(Source, with more details on Tanbi.)

Neither romance nor homosexuality were requirements for works in the original Tanbi-ha genre. BL borrowed the name Tanbi because its early authors saw their work created under the same principles: the emphasis on the beauty of their characters, their love (romantic and platonic), in a world that was also beautiful and untouched by ugliness such as sexism and homophobia.

The stubborn persistence on keeping one’s eyes trained on the beautiful, the willingness to turn a blind eye to reality for the sake of the beauty is built-in in the genre’s name. Tanbi meant more than beauty, aesthetics; its kanji form was written as 耽美; 耽 = to sink, drown in, to over-indulge in; 美 = beauty.

Tanbi, therefore, literally means to drown in, to over-indulge in beauty.

Over time, as the genre expanded its writing style, Tanbi eventually fell out of favour as BL’s genre name in Japan. However, as it gained popularity in the Sinosphere in the 1990s, starting with Taiwan and Hong Kong, the kanji of Tanbi was retained as the Chinese name of the genre.

In Mandarin Chinese, 耽美 is pronounced Danmei. A hyperfocus on the aesthetics, the utopian aspects of traditional BL is therefore retained in Danmei by its name. People’s Daily could therefore devote its review of TU on its aesthetics. Realism, including politics and all discussions of social issues, can therefore be swept aside in the name of respecting the genre’s tradition.

I’ve mostly been reading about and observing c-fandom, and I believe these 3 characterisations have all attracted its own kind of fans. Fans who care and talk about queer issues even when it isn’t encouraged by their sociopolitical environment, who shine a light upon these issues in their fan works. Fans who treat the M/M leads as if they were a traditional cishet couple, such as calling one of the leads 老婆 (wife) and assigning him biologically female functions when needed (via, for example, the ABO trope). Fans who insist the works must meet their beauty standards, rejecting those that fail (for example, if the leads are not good looking enough) by claiming they’re there for Danmei, not Danchou (耽醜, “over-indulgence on ugliness”). Fans who are drawn to the genre by a combination of these characterisations.

By the history and definition of the genre, all the above reasons for fanning Danmei are as valid, as legitimate as one another.

I thought about this related question then: are c-fans of the second (traditional BL characterisation) and third (aesthetic characterisation) groups homophobic? When I first asked this question, I—a fan whose fandom experience had been entirely in English-speaking communities—assume the answer was yes. I thought, in particular, the insistence of treating Danmei’s M/M couples as cishet couples in a homosexual shell had to be conscious queer erasure. How can anyone ignore the same-sexness of the leads? How can anyone talk about Danmei without associating it with homosexuality?

However, as I read more—again, specifically about c-fandom, and in Chinese—I realised the answer may be a little more complex.

Previously, I had largely thought about homophobia in terms of individual attitudes. This has to do with my current environment (liberal parts of the United States), in which the choice to accept or reject the queer community has become a close to personal choice. Pride flags fly all over the city, including the city hall, every summer, and most churches welcome the LGBT+ community. I hadn’t considered how an environment in which queers have never enjoyed full social exposure, in which education of related topics is sorely lacking, would affect Danmei’s development as a genre.

In such an environment, it is difficult for Danmei to evolve and incorporate up-to-date understanding of RL queerness.

The consequence I can see is this: Danmei is more likely to be “stuck” in its historical characterisation as (het) women’s fantasy inside than outside the Great Firewall, with its queerness de-emphasised if not erased—and it draws fans who are attracted to this kind of characterisation accordingly. This is, perhaps, reflected by the fact that the (het) women-to-queer ratio of Danmei / BL fans is significantly higher in China than in the West (Table 1 in this article summarises how Danmei / BL fans have split between different genders and sexual orientation in the Sinosphere vs the West in different research studies).

Another driving force I can see for Danmei to retain BL’s traditional feminist and aesthetic characterisations: women in China are not free from the social pressure that led to the birth of BL in 1970’s Japan. While many of them have achieved financial freedom through work and have high education, the young and educated have been subjected to immense pressure to get married and have children especially in the past decade.

In 2007, the China’s state feminist agency, the All-China Women’s Federation (中華全國婦女聯合會), coined the term 剩女 (literally, “leftover women”) for unmarried, urban women over 27 years old. The government started a campaign that, among other things, associated women’s education level with ugliness, and their unmarried status with pickiness, moral degeneracy. The reason behind the campaign: birth rates are plummeting and the state wants educated women, in particular, to nurture a high quality, next generation workforce. More importantly, the government sees a threat in the M/F sex imbalance (high M, low F) that has commonly been attributed to the country’s “one child policy” between 1979-2015, which encouraged female infanticide / abortion of female foetuses in a culture that favours surname-carrying boys. The state fears the unmarried men will become violent and/or gay, leading to “social instability and insecurity”. Therefore, it wants all women, in particular those who are educated, to enter the “wife pool” for these unmarried men. (Source 1, Source 2: Source 2 is a short, recommended read).

For Chinese women, therefore, patriarchy and sexism is far from over. Escapist fantasies where sexism is removed—by removing women from the picture—are therefore here to stay.

Danmei is therefore not queer literature (同志文學). The difference between Danmei and queer literature is highlighted by this reportedly popular saying (and its similar variations) in some Danmei communities:

異性戀只是傳宗接代，同性戀才是真愛 Heterosexuality is only for reproduction. Only homosexuality is true love.

The attitude towards heterosexuality is one of distaste, viewed as a means to an end the speaker has no interest in. On the contrary, homosexuality is idealised, reflecting the disregard / lack of understanding of some Danmei fans have towards the RL hardships of c-queers. The ignorance may be further propagated by gate-keeping by some Danmei fans for safety reasons, keeping queer discussions away from their communities for fear that their favourite hangouts would meet the same uncertain fate of other communities that previously held open queer discussions, such as the Weibo gay and lesbian supertopics. Such gatekeeping can, again, be easily enforced using tradition as argument: the beauty 美 is Tanbi and Danmei (耽美), remember, includes the beauty of utopia, where ugly truths such as discrimination do not enter the picture. A Danmei that explores, for example, the difficulty of coming out of the closet is no longer Danmei, by its historical, aesthetic definition.

[I’ve therefore read about c-queers viewing Danmei with suspicion, if not downright hostility; they believe the genre, by ignoring their RL challenges and casting them as beautiful, even perfect individuals, and in some cases, by fetishising them and their relationships, only leads to more misconceptions about the queer community. Dangai, meanwhile, has been viewed with even more distaste as potential weapons by the state to keep gays in the closet; if the government can shove the Danmei characters into the “socialist brotherhood” closet, it can shove them as well.

I haven’t yet, however, been able to tease out the approximate fraction of c-queers whose views of Danmei and Dangai is negative. The opposing, positive view of the genres is this: they still provide LGBT+ visibility, which is better than none and it would’ve been close to none without Danmei and Dangai; while Danmei may skim over the hardships of being queer, fan works of Danmei are free to explore them—and they have.

This article provides insights on this issue. @peekbackstage’s conversation with a Chinese film/TV director in Clubhouse is also well worth a read.]

That said, Danmei can only be dissociated from the queer characterisation if there’s a way to talk about the genre without evoking words and phrases that suggest homosexuality—something that is difficult to do with English. Is there?

In Chinese, I’d venture to say … almost. There’s almost a way. Close enough to pass.

The fact that M/M in traditional BL has been developed and viewed not as queer but as a removal of F also means this: queerness isn’t “built-in” into the language of Danmei. The name Danmei itself already bypasses a major “queer checkpoint”: it’s impossible to refer to a genre called Boy’s Love and not think about homosexuality.

Here’s one more important example of such bypass. Please let me, as an excuse to put these beautiful smiles in my blog, show this classic moment from TU; this can be any gif in which the leads are performing such suggestive romantic gestures:

How can I describe this succinctly? In English?

Two men acting in love? Er. That’s… the definition of gay, almost.

Two men acting gay? Well. GAY.

Right. Fine. Let’s go negative. Queerbaiting? … Still gay, because the word “queer” is in there.

[Pie note: for the record, I don’t think TU or WoH is queer-baiting.]

Personally, I find it impossible to describe the GIF above in English that I do not automatically associate with RL romantic love between two men, with homosexuality. But can I do it in Chinese?

… Yes.

There’s a term, 賣腐 (pronounced “maifu”), literally, “selling 賣 the rot 腐”, derived from the term known among i-fans as fujoshi and written, in kanji, as 腐女. Fujoshi, or 腐 (“rot”) 女 (“women”), describes the largely (het) female audience of the Japanese BL genre (>80%, according to Wikipedia). Originated as a misogynistic insult towards female Japanese BL fans in the 2000s, fujoshi was later reclaimed by the same female BL fans who now use the self-depreciative term as acknowledgement of their interest being “rotten”, for BL’s disregard of the society’s traditional expectations on women.

賣腐 is therefore to “sell the rot” to the rotten women; ie. the suggestive romantic gestures, exemplified by the GIF above, between the M/M leads are catering, performing fan service to their target audience.

[賣腐 is also a term one will see in the state opinion pieces.]

There’s nothing gay about this term.

I’ve therefore found it possible to talk and think in Chinese about Danmei while giving little thought to queerness. The history and definition of Danmei allow that.

Again, I’m not saying any of this to excuse homophobia among in Danmei and Dangai fandoms. The point I’m trying to make is this — given that Danmei has three potential characterisations, two of which can be discussed without abundantly evoking queer concepts and vocabularies, given that history of Danmei, as a genre, already favoured characterisation 2 (traditional BL), the government addressing homosexuality in its opinions on Danmei and Dangai is far from a given.

By extension, the popularity of Dangai may mean a lot or little to c-queers; by extension, the state can approve / disapprove of Danmei and Dangai in a manner independent of its stance on homosexuality, which is itself inconsistent and at times, logic-deying (example to come…).

This is both good and bad, from the perspective of both the government and the c-queer community.

For the government: as discussed, the “triality” of Danmei allows the state to “move the goalpost” depending on what it tries to achieve. It has characterisations 2 (the traditional BL characterisation) and 3 (the aesthetic characterisation) as excuses to let Dangai dramas pass the censorship board should it want their profit and also, their promise of expanding the country’s soft power overseas by drawing an international audience. These characterisations also allow the state to throw cold water on the popularity of Danmei / Dangai should it desire, for reasons other than its queer suggestions—despite the Xi regime’s push against open expressions of queerness (including by activism, in media), it has also been careful about not demonising c-queers in words, and has countered other people’s attempts to do so.

Why may the government want to throw cold water on Danmei and Dangai? They are still subculture, which the state has also viewed with suspicion. In 2018, a NRTA directive explicitly requested that “c-ent programmes should not use entertainers with tattoos; (those associated with) hip-hop culture, sub-cultures (non-mainstream cultures), decadent cultures.” (”另外，总局明确要求节目中纹身艺人、嘻哈文化、亚文化（非主流文化）、丧文化（颓废文化）不用。”).

Subculture isn’t “core socialist values”. More importantly, it’s difficult to keep up with and control subculture. 環球網, the website co-owned by People’s Daily and Global Times (環球時報), ie, The State Newspaper and The State Tabloid, famously said this on its Weibo, on 2020/03/04, re: 227:

老了，没看懂为什么战。晚安。 Getting old. Can’t figure out what the war is about. Good night.

The State also cannot stop subculture from happening. It doesn’t have the resources to quell every single thing that become popular among its population of 1.4 billion. What it can do to make sure these subcultures stay subcultures, kept out of sight and mind of the general public.

Characterisation 1 (the queer characterisation), meanwhile, remains available to the state should it wish to drop the axe on Dangai for its queer elements. I’m including, as “queer elements”, presentation of men as too “feminine” for the state—which has remained a sore point for the government. This axe have a reason to drop in the upcoming months: July 23rd, 2021 will be the 100th birthday of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), and the state may desire to have only uniformed forces and muscled, gun-toting “masculine” men gracing the screens.

What about for c-queers and their supporters (including group I fans)? What good and bad can the multiple characterisations of the genres do for them?

For c-queers and their supporters (including group I fans), their acceptance and safety are helped by the Dangai genre, by the Dangai 101 phenomenon, if and only if the state both characterises the queer elements in these dramas as queer (characterisation 1) AND their opinions of them are positive.

Personally, I had viewed this to be unlikely from the start, because a queer characterisation would mean the censorship board has failed to do its job, which is embarrassing for the Chinese government.

Characterisations 2) and 3) are not bad for c-queers and their supporters, however, and definitely not “enemies” of Characterisation 1); they can not only serve as covers for the queer elements in Dangai to reach their audience, but also, they can act as protective padding for the LGBT+ community if the content or (very aggressive) marketing of the Dangai dramas displease the government — with the understanding, again, that the “traditional BL” arm of the Danmei community is itself also highly vulnerable by being a subculture, and so its padding effect is limited and it also deserves protection.

The downside to achieving LGBT+ visibility through Dangai is, of course and as mentioned, that these dramas are, ultimately, deeply unrealistic depictions of the c-queers. The promotion of these dramas, which has focused on physical interactions between the male leads for “candies”, can encourage even more fetishising of queers and queer relationships. The associated (character) CP culture that makes and breaks CPs based on the dramas’ airing cycle may also fuel negative perception of queer relationships as attention-seeking behaviour, something that can be initiated and terminated at will and for the right price.

Finally, with all this said, which characterisation(s) have the government taken re: Dangai and/or WOH? And what opinions has it given to its characterisations?

PART 1 <-- YOU ARE HERE PART 2 PART 3

#pie metas #yizhan #bjyx

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davidfarland · 3 years

Photo

Over the last few weeks,

I’ve been talking about some of the tawdry practices that go on in our industry, and I’ve been wanting to talk about rules of conduct when giving reviews. Too often online I’ve seen instances where people are buying reviews or selling them or trading favors.

Here are a few rules that I think you should consider adopting:

1.DON’T REVIEW EVERY BOOK THAT YOU ARE ASKED TO DO

In the course of your career, you will most likely get thousands of requests for reviews. On an average week, I get two requests for cover quotes. Unfortunately, reading a long novel (say 800 pages of manuscript) can take as a much as 20 hours. If I were to read two novels a week, I wouldn’t have time to write anything at all. So, here are some basic reasons why you must turn things down.

a) If you don’t have time to give a quote, just be honest. There have been times in my life when I really wanted to give a quote and just couldn’t. For example, one of my students, Brandon Mull, asked for a quote a few years back for his novel Fablehaven. I felt terrible, but his timing was just bad for me. (I’ve read the novel since, and I loved it.) He’s gone on to have a great career (#1 New York Times Bestseller), but every time that I see him, I just feel crummy. Now that he’s in my shoes, I know that he understands just how hectic life can be.

b) If you give too many reviews, then it devalues your reviews. Many authors set a limit of say, 2 per year. That’s a wise thing to do. Years ago, when Terry Brooks gave me a nice cover quote for The Runelords, I felt grateful. When I later learned that Terry almost never gives cover quotes, I felt even more honored. (I think that he has only given a couple of quotes in his life, as I recall.) So lend some credence to your quotes by restricting the number that you give. More importantly, if you really want to give a quote to a novel, make it a priority.

c) If the novel is not in the genre that you write in, then most likely the publisher won’t want your cover quote anyway. I write fantasy. If someone who writes horror or romance or mainstream or young adult asks for a cover quote, then I don’t feel that it does them much good to give them a cover quote. In fact, I’ve given a couple quotes that the publisher has never used, so aside from heartwarming the author, it really didn’t help.

2. NEVER GIVE A QUOTE FOR MONEY

I know a couple of authors who, in an effort to cut down on the number of people who ask for quotes, have said that they charge a high dollar amount for a cover quote. The argument goes like this: it costs me a lot of time (and therefore money) to read a book. If I’m going to read a novel with an eye toward a quote, which may have a huge impact on sales, why shouldn’t I get paid to do it?

The problem is that it causes a moral conundrum. If I get paid for a cover quote, will it be an honest one? Won’t the fact that I’m getting paid skew my perceptions? I think that it would. So I would never pay for a quote. On the occasions where people have asked me to give quotes for a reading fee, I’ve always refused to even read the book. Sorry, it just feels weird. Of course it goes without saying that you should never offer to pay for a cover quote, nor should you offer to give another author a quote in return for a favorable quote.

I do know that some places, like Kirkus and Publisher’s Weekly, do offer to review books for a reading fee. Personally, I wouldn’t do it. I realize that it takes time (and therefore money) for a reviewer to read and critique a novel that way, but I worry that this is one of those practices that gets a little too close to the line.

Please note that there are times when you may have an author that you admire who also happens to like your work. For example, I’m a fan of Brandon Sanderson, so I was eager to give him a cover quote on his first novel. In fact, for enjoyment I picked up his novel Steelheart this last Saturday and it is next on my reading list. Brandon recently gave me a quote on one of my novels.

I also happen to be a fan of several other best-selling authors. So I wouldn’t feel bad if one of them gave me a cover quote, and I would feel honored if one of them offered a quote. That of course is different from agreeing to give rave reviews to a stranger that you’ve only just met online.

3. BE HONEST IN YOUR REVIEW

I’ve had people send me books that I just didn’t enjoy. This is tough. Can you give a plug to a book that you don’t think is really any good? If you read the first chapter, and you really don’t want to read on, you have to stop right there. You can be gentle with the author and say, “This really just didn’t grab me. I’m sorry.”

You don’t have to be brutal about it. Remember that as authors, whether we’re indie or traditionally published, we are all struggling to get better, and we may have different aims and different emotional triggers. A novel that doesn’t interest me may thrill someone else.

When I read, if I suspect that I’m not the audience for that book, I ask myself, “Is there an audience for this book? And if so, can I tailor my remarks to that audience?”

I recall one author who hated Lord of the Rings. When he was asked to review a fantasy novel that he also hated, guess what he compared it to?

That’s a little bit cynical for me, but the concept is sound, so long as your remarks are honest.

4. PHRASE YOUR WORDING CAREFULLY WHEN GIVING A REVIEW

Remember that you need to have short bites that can fit on a cover. You can review both the author and the work.

For example, I recently read a science fiction novel that I loved by new author Milo Behr. It will be debuting this week, and I’ll let you know more in a day or two. I could say something like “Milo Behr’s novel Beowulf: A Bloody Calculus was the most exciting cyberpunk debut I’ve seen in twenty years,” and I’d be completely honest about the book. I haven’t seen one that I personally liked as much since William Gibson made his debut.

But what if the author so impresses you that you want to give him or her a quote that could be used for all future novels? In Milo Behr’s novel, he did something both brilliant and nearly unthinkable. He wrote his novel as an epic poem, then put it in narrative form. The result is that the novel has a hypnotic effect, unlike anything that I’ve seen outside of Poe and a couple of mainstream writers. So, for example, I might say something like, “Milo Behr’s work is brilliant and mesmerizing.”

5. REMEMBER THAT AS A REVIEWER, YOU’RE NOT ALWAYS RIGHT

Many years ago I reviewed a novel that, quite frankly, really bothered me. The protagonist was so reluctant to do anything at all that I just couldn’t relate. I wrote a review for a small magazine, then heard from some fans who loved the book. They said, “When I read that novel, that protagonist was me.” And I realized, that there was a huge audience for the book, but I just wasn’t part of it. When offering a review, you’re making your own artistic judgment. Others might not share your opinions.

What I want to emphasize here is that giving reviews can be tough. It will take time that you may not have to give, it will present moral challenges that you might not want to face, do it with caution.

Happy Writing!

David Farland

On Monday, Sam Payne, musician and storyteller will be talking with the Apex Writers Group.

On Saturday, Glen Thomson will be our honored guest on Apex.

Reserve your spot by visiting www.apex-writers.com

Come see me at FanX at booth #233. Thursday at 6 in 250a for How to Write Sci-Fi or Fantasy Series. Friday at 11 in 151D for Ask a New York Times Bestseller. Friday at 1 in 355B with Writers of the Future! See you there!

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huacheng-zhu · 4 years

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ok so 2ha. vague spoilers ahead (important spoilers are warned but watch out)

that’s a solid 4.5/5 for me. this novel RUINED me and I loved it for it. it made me feel like very few novels (and even stories in general) did. today I’m STILL shaken over a part of it that I read two days ago, despite the happy ending. I have A Lot of thoughts (shout-out to @whateverwuxian who can testify that I couldn’t shut up about it, love you buddy!!) so I just went ahead and [gestures below]

starting with the negative so we can enjoy all the positive later. feel free to discuss but I’m extra sensitive and these are only my personal feelings so they probably won’t change anyway, so be nice please!

what I didn't like:

too many r*pe scenes. I get that the non-con """makes sense""" narratively and thematically but like. they didn't have to be explicit. at the very least not all of them. sorry but too much is too much. there are more non-con sex scenes/flashbacks than consensual sex scenes! stop! we get it! enough now!

not a fan of a 26yo falling in love with a 16yo. if cwn had initiated Anything I would’ve thrown the novel out the window. but thankfully it didn’t happen, I got invested, and nothing mutual happened until mo ran was 22, so I mostly got over it, but I’m still somewhat uncomfortable with it for very personal reasons.

their first time putting it in. it felt so unfair and I was very upset over it. it could’ve worked without going There? why. was that necessary. and it's heartbreaking for both of them, because mo ran didn't want to do it either. he wanted them to take all their time. he wanted to go step by step. all he wanted was to make sure cwn would be happy and comfortable and never hurt again in bed. for their first time that way he wanted it to be special. but it was just. taken away from them, and for what? for nothing there’s absolutely no reason for it. I get there’s the metaphorical foreshadowing of the upcoming reveal aspect (spoilers) both of them not consenting, mo ran being horrified -> the reveal that mo ran was cursed and so would’ve never wanted to treat cwn like this in the past either if he’d had control (end spoilers) but still?? and it’s never brought up again? I know they don’t get the time until the very end but hhhh. yeah I have Feelings over this

some plot twists hit good emotionally but had no point? thinking of the one about xue meng here.

there’s horny, and then there’s mo ran. it’s not a bad thing, it’s just not the kind of stuff I like reading about and book 1 and 2 are A Lot on that side so in book 2 after a while ME, THE BIGGEST ASEXUAL WHO COULDN’T CARE LESS ABOUT SEX SCENES, WAS LIKE, “oh my god have mercy please just fuck already I beg of you” and indeed they chilled a bit after that. like they were still horny but. less intensely and less all the fucking time. thank god (I still think the farm arc was hilarious to witness though, and I did love it)

kinda wish their reunion at the end was longer and more emotional but that’s just because I love that shit

(spoilers) kinda wish we got to see shi mei again before he went off doing his blind wandering doctor stuff. a talk with ranwan would’ve been very interesting. (end spoilers)

xue meng didn’t get a hug

that one thing at the end you know the one. maybe I'd be more into it if it'd been given time to be explored seriously and wasn't played off as a joke. it kinda ruined the mood of their last scene for me. (spoilers spoilers spoilers this is the end of this section if you don’t want to get spoiled) in that scene I wanted chu wanning to ride off into the sunset with mo ran, not txj. like, txj is the alternate world’s “if there had been no transmigration” version of mo ran 2.0. the whole point is that mo ran IS txj in book 1, but changes and becomes mo ran 2.0. mo ran 2.0, who by the end of the novel has already done all the redemption and deconstruction of his dubious habits. who he was as txj is long behind him. at this point txj will always be a part of who he was, but they are pretty much two 'different' people now. txj disappearing into dust after everything that happens at the end was beautiful symbolism. it meant something. to me there was no point keeping txj around after all that other than for “haha split personalities fighting over cwn’s attention uwu” THAT SAID the fact I'm not a fan of the idea doesn't mean I don't like txj. I care txj a lot and have Emotions over him, and I will definitely eventually explore this in my writing

(still spoilers) the demonic blood reveal was a bit.... deus ex machina? plus I personally would've preferred mo ran staying a regular person (end spoilers)

alright what I liked now:

the themes, both regarding the characters and the various plot elements. this novel really challenges your morals and what you think is right or wrong, what’s redeemable, what’s punishable, and how much one relies on first impressions, amongst other things. this novel is the definition of “don’t judge a book by its cover” but also “look further than the first page” in so many ways

the romance. like I don’t need to say anything there. just, the slow burn, the longing, the yearning, the romance [clutches heart]

the plot twists/reveals. I’m so glad I was barely spoiled (I was spoiled two Big things but very vaguely so I was still surprised) because pretty much all of them had me shouting “WHAT” and/or gaping and/or various “what the fuck!!!”/”holy SHIT”/“NO” reactions

the way a lot of those reveals just completely change your view on things/characters?? that’s my jam

wontons. that was the first time I cried and my first very physical reaction to an event in this novel. I literally felt like time froze. I heard my heart beating. it was painful but AMAZING.

might be nothing in the grand scheme of things but honestly, all the food! I love that mo ran is an excellent cook and can make all those delicious dishes for cwn. as someone who loves to cook for their loved ones I think it’s so lovely that he gets to do that

the character growth. for everyone, but mo ran in particular? like I just. I started off not liking mo ran very much, straight up despising him at times, and in the end I was fucking sobbing over him and cried myself to sleep only to wake up in the middle of the night to cry some more so there’s that

chu wanning? there were aspects of him that I related to heavily, and that felt both like the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known and very special because it doesn’t happen to me that often

the whole deaging arc. that was deaging done right and it had a purpose in the narrative and their relationship growth, I was “!!!!”

I LOVE how they took their time with EVERYTHING once they got together? that it spanned over several weeks? that it started with the confession, then just holding hands, then kissing, then making out, then sex, and even the sex was step by step! it said A LOT about mo ran’s character growth and it respected SO MUCH the fact that cwn is a 32yo (unrelated but (spoilers) I like to argue that yeah he’s been alive for 32 years but when you’ve been asleep and not aging physically nor growing mentally for five years in a way that makes you a 27yo. so when he calls his body “mature and old” and compares himself to shi mei I’m just. buddy your body is just three years older than shi mei’s there’s barely any difference in maturity right there. I know it’s your lack of self-worth speaking, and believe me I get it, but don’t be so hard on yourself. (end spoilers) anyway, this is an unimportant and unrelevant thought that I had during the mirror scene) who has no experience in any of these things whatsoever. he's not pushed into sex like he's going to be comfortable right off the bat and like it isn’t such a big change in a life that’s been ascetic so far. mo ran is aware of that! and when they have their first time mo ran, who’s been maybe even more horny than cwn all this time - seriously horny is that guy’s middle name, who initiated the sex, what does he say!!! "don't worry about me, tonight, I just want to make you feel good"??? mo ran?? your character development??? I appreciated that so much.

the pain. I’m still bleeding on the floor despite the happy ending but yeah. I like angst and I was not disappointed. it didn’t feel that gratuitious to me, more like, brutally honest? I don’t cry that easily but by the end I think I’d cried, what, close to ten times??

quite a few excellent quotes [lies down] “I realized - I had grown into the you in my heart”?? “hell is too cold”??? I highlighted more but those two are the ones that always come to my mind first

most of the time the flashbacks were perfectly inserted for maximum emotional damage and I respect that skill

xue zhengyong. like he’s not my favourite, my favourites are xue meng, nangong si and ye wangxi but? I just adored him so he gets a special mention

the side characters? like, I legit loved Everyone? when I cry over side characters you know it’s serious

THE CONFESSION SCENE. LIKE. HOLY SHIT MY HEART. it comes reaaally close to the vocal one (because hua cheng confesses so many times without words) at the end of tgcf for me. it was beautiful. I was so emotional. the fact that cwn can't say it no matter how much he feels it. like it's always been plain and clear just how much he loves mo ran. but he can't say the words yet and I just. the fact that mo ran gets it? that he doesn't need the words, just that squeeze of fingers, just what cwn is, at that moment, able to give him, and it doesn't mean less to him than words would? it hit home real hard

unless I think of something else, that’s about it! I can’t recommend 2ha enough, that said, I beg of you, heed the warnings. they are NOT overstated. and even if there were no warnings, take care anyways. the angst is serious, it haunts you. angst always makes me feel like my chest is being squeezed and that’s precisely the feeling I’m looking for when I choose to read angst. I have good tolerance to it, so despite not doing entirely well lately, I thought I was tough and went for it, but I’m a CLOWN. the way it’s written ruins you. this morning despite reading the hardest part of the angst on saturday evening, I still had some physical chest pain. so I recommend it with all my heart, but take care of yourselves. 2ha doesn’t fuck around.

#2ha #bee talks #i will probably tweak and add to this post over time because I probably forgot stuff #anyways I'm gonna go lie down and cry over ranwan as I think about my fic ideas #2ha review

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inkedstarlight · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet: Chapter Nine

Summary: Cassian and Nesta finally meet. Officially, this time. Let the romance commence. Notes: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief/non-explicit mention of sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

“Earth to Nesta?”

Nesta snapped from her trance to see Emerie waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’ve been cleaning the same spot for a good ten minutes,” Emerie gestured to where Nesta was scrubbing the counter with a towel. It was squeaky clean.

Nesta let go of the towel and cleared her throat. “My bad.”

Emerie pulled out the chair on the other side of the counter and sat down. It was eleven in the evening on a Monday, and they had just closed. The only other person in Rita’s was Lucien, and he was doing dishes in the back.

“You’ve been acting weird for the past two weeks,” Emerie stated blatantly. Her stare was unwavering. “And you’ve lost at least ten pounds.”

The incidence with Tomas happened two weeks ago. Nesta was doing a pretty good job of moving on with her life all things considered. She felt like shit, but she hadn’t missed a single shift at work. That had to count for something.

But she should’ve known Emerie would notice. She was like a fucking hawk, that girl. She saw everything.

When Nesta didn’t say anything, Emerie shrugged and got up from the stool. “At least try a little harder,” she said, referring to the coworkers’ challenge to get the most tips. She shot Nesta a sad look. “Thesan is beating you. Thesan.”

Nesta mustered a laugh. Thesan wasn’t great with customers, that was common knowledge. Neither Emerie nor Nesta were people persons, but they knew how to turn it on for customers. Thesan, on the other hand, didn’t make much of an effort. It wasn’t that he was intentionally rude, the guy was just quiet in nature. In fact, he was quite a sweetheart.

Which was why it was quite entertaining to watch Thesan and Helion interact. Where Thesan was an introvert, Helion was loud as hell. Not to mention it was clear that Thesan was crushing on him. But unfortunately, Helion flirted with every living, breathing thing and was thus completely oblivious. During Nesta’s first week at Rita’s, Emerie had spilled all the tea about their coworkers. Thesan was head over heels in love with Helion, Helion had never been in a monogamous relationship, and Viviane… well, Viviane had her own little love story. A complicated one at that.

His name was Kallias. They grew up together, from scheming little kids to rebellious teenagers to young adults. Best friends since they could remember.

Because Emerie grew up in the same small town as them, she knew everything. They all went to school together. She knew that Kallias had been in love with Viviane since freshman year of high school. She knew that Viviane felt the same way, but she would never admit it thanks to the hell she was put through during her childhood. Nesta didn’t know the specifics, and she never asked.

It also didn’t help that Viviane was in a relationship with someone else. They’d been together for almost two years. Emerie thought Viviane deserved better, that he wasn’t a very good person.

Anyway, Kallias visited Rita’s nearly every weekend after his shift at the fire station to grab a drink and more importantly, see Viviane.

Nesta thought it was ridiculous. She’d told Emerie as much when she’d brought Nesta up to date on their coworkers’ lives. Why wouldn’t they just admit they loved each other and get on with it already? It was pretty fucking simple; they were just making it complicated for themselves. Emerie wholeheartedly agreed and the pair then went on an hour long rant on the idiocy of romantic relationships.

And if she was being honest, Nesta didn’t care much about these people. Sure, they were respectable but they were a temporary fixture in her life. Once she secured a job in her career field, she was going to leave them all behind.

“We should get a drink sometime. Outside of work,” Emerie clarified with a look of disgust. “I’m sick of it here.”

Nesta knew that was a lie based on the relationship Emerie had with Rita and her wife. But she didn’t say that.

“Maybe,” Nesta responded distractedly, desperate to think of an excuse. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Emerie; no, Nesta liked her coworker. She just couldn’t muster the energy to go out with friends or socialize like that. “I’m pretty busy right now though.”

Emerie narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her.

“Stop analyzing me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Emerie sighed and receded. She hesitated before saying quietly, “Is… is this the part when I ask if you’re okay and we get all deep and explore a new level of our friendship?”

Nesta slowly met her friend’s gaze. They stared at one another for several moments.

Then, they burst out laughing.

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

The next morning, Nesta was brewing her third cup of coffee when Elain padded into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Elain yawned as a greeting. She wore bunny slippers and an oversized hoodie. Elain only had one evening class on Tuesdays, so today was her only day - save for the weekend - to sleep in.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“How long have you been up?”

Nesta glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty. She’d woken up at six after a sleepless night of tossing and turning.

But she simply shrugged instead. “Not long.”

Nesta poured the coffee into her mug, sitting back down at the counter. She watched as Elain bustled around the kitchen, scrambling eggs and slicing fruit. The morning light spilled through the dusty kitchen sink window, bars of sunshine reflecting off the tiled floors. Iroh basked in the sunspots, his black fur glistening as his chartreuse eyes blinked closed.

Elain and Nesta hadn’t spent much time together in the past couple weeks. It was Nesta’s doing, of course. She was actively avoiding her sister and everyone else. After Elain had tried to talk to Nesta after the whole thing with Tomas, she stopped asking Nesta if she was okay. Nesta assumed that Elain realized she wasn’t going to get an answer, that there wasn't really a point in trying.

But Gods, Nesta fucking missed her. And even though she wanted nothing more than to retreat to her bedroom as she sat there in the kitchen, she didn’t move from the chair.

You need them as much as they need you, her father’s voice echoed in her head.

Guilt stabbed at her chest.

“How’re classes going?” Nesta asked quietly. Elain looked at her over her shoulder with a surprised yet pleasant smile.

“Great! I’m so grateful to be at such a great college, but…” Elain bit her lip, hesitating. “My bio lab is going to be the death of me."

“You know you’re allowed to complain, right?”

Elain just gave her a smile. “Yeah, I know. It's just, considering where I was a year ago, I couldn't be happier to finally be enrolled in such a prestigious program. Even if that means the classes are brutal."

I wish I was like you. I take everything for granted.

“And have you made any friends?”

Elain had started school at Pryth U months ago and yet Nesta had no idea if she even had friends yet.

Selfish bitch.

A fond smile broke out on Elain’s face. “Yes, I have this really great group of friends: Lucien, Ressina, and Varian. It's just the four of us, but we've gotten really close.”

Nesta asked Elain more questions before excusing herself back to her room, claiming she was going to try to write today, to which Elain squealed and wished her luck.

Nesta hadn't written since their dad died. Prior to his death, she would write nearly every day. She'd been working on a novel for years. The plot had came to her in middle school, and it just grew from there. She'd never told anyone about it. Everyone knows how fucking hard it is to get your writing published, much less get high ratings. Nesta wasn't even sure if she was going to finish it. This was the longest she'd gone without writing or editing it. And she had a feeling that she wouldn't ever go back to it.

Dread filled her stomach as she thought of that prospect. What the fuck was she doing with her life?

Nesta’s phone buzzed, and she fished it out of her back pocket.

Incoming call from Feyre Archeron.

It kept buzzing, Nesta merely stared at her sister's name on her screen. She couldn't think of a single reason why Feyre would be calling. But she pressed "Accept" before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

Silence.

“Uh, what’s up?” Nesta asked. She collapsed onto her unmade bed. Iroh scampered past the door and jumped on the bed with her. He didn't waste a minute curling himself around her head.

"I was calling to see… maybe, I don’t know… uh, would you want to come to dinner tonight?”

I was not expecting that. And Nesta was about 95% sure this was Elain’s doing.

“Why?”

“I want you there," Feyre told her as if it were obvious.

“Why?” Nesta asked again. She hadn't seen Feyre since Thanksgiving despite her sister living just on the outskirts of the city.

That had been weeks ago.

“It's complicated," Feyre responded quietly. She seemed to pause before finding the words. "I've been so worried about Cassian, we all have. He'd never been deployed for that long - five months. It was scary. I guess I took that out on you. I don't know why..."

She drifted off. Nesta held her breath.

"I'm sure Elain told you, but he's home now. I've been more myself since he returned, and I want you to come to dinner. I… miss you.”

She rubbed her temple. “I don’t know, Feyre.”

I don't know if I can pretend to be okay for an entire night. I don't know if you even fucking want me there or if you just feel obligated. I don't know if I can be in the same room as your douchebag boyfriend. I don't know if I can be surrounded by your friends, most of whom seem to dislike me. I don't know if I can behave like a normal fucking person.

I don't know.

“Please?” The plea was soft, quiet. It was like she was almost desperate. But for what?

Nesta looked out the window where a blue jay - their dad's favorite bird - was perched on a bare tree branch. The leaves had long ago fallen, leaving the world naked and vulnerable. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

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

Feyre embraced her with an awkward hug when Nesta and Elain walked into the house. Nesta patted her on the back lightly, uncomfortable with the physical touch. Luckily, no one else seemed incline to embrace her. Rhys actually seemed to make sure he was as far away as possible.

Elain, on the other hand, gave everyone a hug. Mor gave a laugh as she squeezed Elain back, Aurra watching them with a smile. Interestingly enough, when Elain greeted Azriel with a hug, his tanned cheeks glowed red. It was almost imperceptible, but Nesta noticed.

Feyre took a step back to assess her. Nesta could see the judgement in her sister's eyes as she took in Nesta's noticeably thinner body. Luckily, however, she wasn't given the chance to comment on it when Elain piped up, "Where's Cassian? Nesta still hasn't met him yet."

"He's running a bit late," Rhys answered, glancing down at his phone. "Should be here in about ten minutes."

Everyone began to make their way into the dining room and Nesta followed. However, she was quickly tugged to the side when Amren swooped in out of nowhere and basically dragged Nesta into the privacy of the hallway. She stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at Nesta.

“Where have you been?” Amren demanded.

"What do you mean?" Nesta asked, playing dumb.

She hadn't spoken to Amren in a long time, even though they had each others' numbers. Even though Amren had repeatedly texted her, asking to get coffee or go for a walk or something else of the sorts. All of which went unanswered.

Amren rolled her eyes, and Nesta was convinced they went to the back of her head for a good minute. "Don't play dumb with me, Nesta."

“I don’t know, working?"

"Is that a question?" Amren rose a deadly brow.

Nesta huffed and mirrored Amren's angry stance. "Why are you interrogating me?"

“Because you've been radio silent for weeks. I had to ask Elain if you were still fucking alive," Amren explained. Then, she leaned in close like she didn't want anyone to hear. "I was worried about you, you bitch."

Nesta let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, okay? I've been busy. I do want to hang out, it's just that..." she trailed off.

"What? It's just that what?"

Nesta stared at the floor, unable to form words.

"Nesta, are you okay?" Amren asked, her voice softer.

Just tell her. Fucking tell her.

I was almost raped.

Just the thought was enough to make Nesta want to puke. She couldn't, it was too much and she wouldn't even be able to fucking say it and it's her fault, all her fault.

She breathed in through her nose and looked back up at Amren. She shot her the most fake smile she'd ever given. "I'm good. Seriously, I just got busy. It won't happen again."

Nesta saw the skepticism in Amren's eyes. But she conceded with a small sigh. "Well, don't do it again, okay? I seriously thought you were fucking murdered or some shit."

Nesta just nodded. Amren looked at her once more before gesturing with her chin back to the dining room. Nesta followed her.

When they rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Because sitting next to Feyre was the man who had tried to break into her apartment.

“Nesta!" Feyre exclaimed, calling her over from where she sat. "This is Cassian. Cassian, this is my sister, Nesta.”

Nesta simply stared at him like a deer in headlights and he stared at her, his lips parted in surprise. He was wearing a grey sweater, his long hair hanging down, no longer in a bun like it was the last time. He tucked it behind one ear.

"Are you stalking me or something?" Nesta said incredulously.

"I could ask you the same," Cassian retorted cheekily.

Feyre looked between them, a confused expression written on her face. "Do you guys know each other or something?"

"Something like that," Nesta mumbled.

Everyone's eyes were on them as they waited for an answer.

"Well as everyone knows, I live in the same building as Nesta and Elain," Cassian explained, waving a hand to the two sisters. "The other night, I got stupid drunk with a friend. He drove me back to my place and me, drunk off my fucking ass, tried to get into their apartment thinking it was mine."

The entire room erupted into laughter, Rhys choking on his food and Azriel looking up as if reasoning with the Gods.

"So when Nesta opened the door," Cassian continued, "she nearly beat me to death with a baseball bat."

Another round of laughter.

"Overreact much?"

Everyone's eyes flew to where Nesta sat. They seemed shocked. Nesta was too.

She didn't know why she said it, why she let it bother her. He was just so fucking frustrating, even his mere presence.

Cassian stuck his tongue out at her.

Feyre interrupted, her jaw agape. "You guys are acting like children."

Nesta got quiet after that. The conversation continued, thankfully taking the attention off her. As everyone laughed and conversed, Cassian looked over at her. His smile disappeared when he met Nesta's gaze. She just stared back at him, lips in a thin line. He seemed to try to gauge her reaction carefully, but her face was blank.

And so the night went on. Nesta didn't say another word after what happened. She avoided eye contact with Cassian. Avoided conversation with everyone.

It was half past eight when they all began clearing their dishes. Mor, Aurra, Azriel, and Cassian were all gathered in the kitchen cleaning up. Feyre and Rhys had excused themselves. It was just Nesta and Elain who remained in the dining room.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Nesta leaned over to whisper to Elain.

Elain nodded. "We'll head out right after, yeah?" She must've noticed the exhaustion in Nesta's face.

Nesta agreed, excusing herself from the table.

She walked down the hallway, peeking through every door to find the bathroom. She was about to push through a door on the left that was slightly cracked open when she heard voices coming from within.

“I’m worried about him. He’s not the same.” It was Feyre.

“He never is when he comes home, Feyre," Rhys said dejectedly. "It’s happened before. Cass just needs time.”

Cass.

Nesta tiptoed closer to the door, just enough for her to listen.

“No, what he needs is to see someone!”

“I’ve tried. He doesn’t want to go.”

“Try harder, Rhys!” Feyre cried, her tone frustrated.

“We can’t just force him to go, okay?”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Do you even notice how lost your own fucking brother is? Do you even care?!”

Silence.

“Rhysand, I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. I know you care. More than anyone. I just… I don’t want to lose him.”

She heard them both breathing deeply.

“C’mere,” Rhys murmured. Nesta heard Feyre's footsteps as she presumably walked toward him.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Together.”

“Always, Feyre darling.”

They got quiet, probably embracing each other. Nesta crept away from their bedroom door and into the bathroom before they could find her.

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

Elain and Nesta had just unlocked their apartment door when Nesta groaned. “Oh, shit, I forgot my wallet in the car." She fished around in her bag to make sure it wasn't in there. "I’ll be right back.”

"I'll leave the door unlocked," Elain called behind her as Nesta made her way to the elevator.

She stepped between the doors, hitting the button for the parking garage. Gods, she just wanted to go to sleep. The night had been exhausting.

After a minute or so, she was approaching her car. She unlocked her door and grabbed her wallet that was in the middle console when a pair of headlights flashed past her, a car pulling into the spot next to her.

Before panic could set in, Nesta recognized who was driver the car through the window.

Cassian.

His car turned off and he emerged from the driver's door just a moment later. He looked over where Nesta was clutching her wallet to her chest staring at him. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning away and walking towards the elevator. Nesta had no choice to follow.

She walked just a few feet behind him as they made their way to the elevator.

"I'm sorry," Cassian told her, his voice sincere. He cast a concerned glance her way. "For embarrassing you at dinner. And if I scared you that night."

"You didn't embarrass me," Nesta snapped at him. "You were just being annoying as hell."

His entire body seemed to relax at her insult. Cassian tried to hide his smirk but failed. "I'm glad to see you're still your normal, hotheaded self. You got me worried at dinner with your stoic behavior."

Now she really glared at him. "Don't talk like you know me. You don't."

"Oh, sweetheart," he teased. "I think we're more similar than you think."

She scoffed. "I think that hubris of yours will be your downfall."

"You know, it's quite sexy when you use literary devices to insult me," he joked.

Nesta froze.

Was he coming onto her? Chills ran down her spine when she thought of the last time a man expressed interest in her.

It's not the same, she tried to convince yourself. He's not Tomas.

Cassian must've expected a heated response to his comment because he looked surprised when Nesta simply stared straight ahead. She seemed to be in a world of her own, oblivious to everything around her. Any trace of anger was gone, replaced by a cool indifference.

Cassian's face fell. "Nesta, I didn't mean to - "

He was cut off as the elevator door dinged opened and Nesta swiftly walked out.

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

tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@sjmships @sleeping-and-books @sirgwaines @books-for-sure @blowing-mikey @b00kworm @wineywitch202 @drielecarla @liquifyme @gisellefigue08 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @loysydark @stardelia @sayosdreams @maastrash @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @ireallyshouldsleeprn @thewayshedreamed @booksstorm

#bittersweet #my writing #nessian #acotar #fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acosf

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drarrelie · 3 years

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One year ago, I decided to set up a challenge for myself for the new year. I was to write one drabble a week for the entire year, forcing myself to commit to weekly deadlines, word limits, and prompts in a way that intimidated me more than I’d ever be willing to admit.

The drabbles were to be based on the @hogwarts365 weekly drabble challenge, giving me three prompts each week (of which I was required to use at least one) plus the very flexible word limit of “EXACTLY 365 words" (their capitalisation, not mine). I also decided to combine this with the weekly drabble prompts provided by the FB fanfic writers’ group The Pen15 is Mightier.

Additionally, to make it more interesting, I wanted all the drabbles to be connected, telling the story of a long-term relationship through short glimpses over a span of several years, or even decades.

As I am an avid planner and plotter, I was absolutely terrified to dive in without knowing what was about to happen in the story, to be so totally in the hands of the upcoming prompts.

But I managed, and today I completed the challenge by posting the final drabble in the series.

It has been an amazing journey for me and my creative writing, and I'm ridiculously proud of having completed it. I had high hopes for it as I started it, and yet I've managed to exceed all my expectations. Every single one of these drabbles is so precious to me, and the story they tell when read together is the perfect mix of what I love most; pining, UST, slow burn, romance, banter, humour, cute kids, angst, fluff, smut, flirting, and a very happy ending.

If you haven’t read it already, or just read the occasional drabble here and there, I’d be delighted if you wanted to check it out:

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612318

#my drabbles #Drabble challenge #drabble writing #challenge #drabbles #drabble #ficlets #ficlet #drarry #drarry fanfiction #drarry fanfic #drabble collection #hogwarts365

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gisellelx · 3 years

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Hey!! How is writing One Day going? Any specific scenes you're looking forward to? Any specific scenes you're struggling with? Or just anything you're willing to share really 😇 #FFWF

I said I might write a novel and I did, and then I navigated away from the page and lost it all and got super sad and so I just went “fuck it, I have work to do.” So I did my work. Go me! I’m teaching entirely asynchronously this term, and so it’s on me to just make sure I work from 9-6 every day and I’ve actually done rather well at that so far and I am kind of proud of myself. Now the work day is done and I went out with my friends, and so...let’s revisit. Whoo. One Day. Oh man. First, I am so thrilled that people still care. I love this premise, and I love this story, but I see other authors who can churn out a 200,000 word fic in like, 10 months and it makes me want to cry. I’m sorry! I’m not that person! So it just makes me so damn excited that other people are excited to see where this is going because it’s going such interesting places.

I just wrote the first half of chapter 15, out of 23, ostensibly, although it might get brought down to 21 or 22. This section was really stalled for a long time, because I imagined the scene incorrectly. At the midpoint, you’re trying to set up an equilibrium, where everything seems like “okay, if it stayed this way, it would be okay” and so I was trying to do that with the most recent scene. It was supposed to be a kind of “Oh everything is happy, everything will balance and work out for all these characters” kind of scene. But it just felt like I was fighting so hard for that. I finally realized that it was because this was the scene where stuff needed to start going south. So a character picked a fight, and now we’re off to the races of the last part of the story.

This is also difficult writing for me because I am not a romance person. I don’t write it and I don’t read it. Not because I don’t appreciate it! I actually find writing it very challenging, so hats off to people who are good at romance. That is not me; I write and read literary/contemporary fiction and basically always have (a friend strong-armed me into reading Twilight and she just laughs at what happened after). But Bella in the middle of this story is exploring what it means to be a regular, 24-year-old woman exploring a relationship with a regular boy her age. The story hinges on this working out reasonably believably and that’s hard for me as the writer. That being said, Nabil is a very fun character to write, and I get to draw on some of my own personal experience in writing his family and his character, which is very fun. And then there’s the wonderful conflict that Bella is also trying to really find a way in with Carlisle, and Carlisle and Nabil do not like each other very much.

I’ve now moved through the midpoint and the end of the scene I’m writing introduces the first vampires other than Carlisle into the story. Bella’s gone six years and now 70,000 words without other vampires in her life, and stuff is about to start blowing up, along with her sense of having any security about what happened after Edward died. I am so looking forward to the next several chapters, some portion of which is already written, and some of which was written years ago, in which Bella really has to confront the facts of exactly how Carlisle dealt with the agony of losing Edward, and how that led to the situation she finds him in at the beginning of the story.

Scenes I’m looking forward to writing (without too many spoilers)? There is a great secondary character, Father Ian, who I am looking forward to including in the run up to the climax of the story. He’s Carlisle’s pastor and is very, very loosely based on a real person: my first creative writing professor, who quit being a professor and became an Episcopalian priest. We’re facebook friends and he knows I’ve fictionalized him and is quite pleased to get to play the role of helping a 380-year-old vampire get his faith back. Father Ian the character is kind of one part busybody, one part Carlisle’s rock, and I’m looking forward to writing him a bit more in the final part of the story. AND it turns out, timeline wise, the epilogue I had always planned, based on the timeline, takes place in summer 2020. That 2020 was what it was has turned out to make a lot of sense for this story, to say nothing of the fact that it’s much easier for Bella to hide Carlisle’s identity from her parents when he’s wearing a mask, and so maybe it was just pre-ordained that it would take me this long to get it done.

I said I might write a novel. There it is. <3 I am so super flattered. Thank you for the ask!

#ffwf #fanfiction #twilight #carlisle cullen #Bella Swan #one day the sun will rise #will edward

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unexpectedreylo · 4 years

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My Fanfics: Behind The Scenes

This year I’ve cranked out two long-form Reylo fics, “Love Is Stronger Than Death” and the just-completed “The Lost Princess.” Generally I write short one-shots and while these longer fics aren’t quite novel-length, they are the longest stories I’ve written in over a decade.

I got the title for “Love Is Stronger Than Death” from a song by The The. It popped into my head in the aftermath of TROS, particularly the lines, “Here come the blue skies/Here comes springtime/When the rivers run high & the tears run dry/When everything that dies/Shall rise/LoveLoveLove is stronger than death.” The fic itself was a fix-it for the movie, specifically the way the film handled Ben Solo’s death. Like a lot of Reylos/Ben Solo fans, I felt the error of omitting Ben’s Force ghost opened the possibility of him being in the World Between Worlds. And like a lot of Reylos, I wrote my own spin on how this possibility could reunite Ben with Rey. In my case it was a mystical bond incapable of true separation, the fundamental basis of which was the powerful love between them (as well as the love for/from their unborn baby). It was kind of like an eternal marriage, forever bound and not even death could truly separate them. The trick was writing something metaphysical and high concept in a way readers could follow along.

I had a “road map” for where the story would end, and basic events in between. The rest I winged from chapter to chapter. The challenge was remembering what had happened before, whether I’d left any dangling threads, and bringing characters in and out of the story as necessary. But I figured the secret was to keep the story simple and don’t go off on tangents that drag on for several chapters or to worry about side plots that don’t matter. My only goal was reuniting Rey and Ben, so that’s where I focused. I’d decided to bring in the Guardians of the Whills to give Rey access to knowledge she wouldn’t have learned from the Jedi. Plus I liked the idea of different groups devoted to the Force working together.

One last note...I threw in a few references from Twin Peaks. To me, the World Between Worlds could be a bit like the Black/White Lodge and the room where Rey and Ben meet there was inspired by the Red Room on the show. The golden sphere that shows up was lifted from the eighth episode of “Twin Peaks: The Return” (2017) which features some of the greatest cinema ever. It’s 20 minutes explaining the origins of both the woodsmen and Laura Palmer without a single word of dialogue. Whenever George Lucas talked about pure cinema, this is what he was talking about. David Lynch is a genius.

“The Lost Princess” came about around the same time as “Love” did. One day in January 2020, I thought to myself “I can’t believe they made Rey the Star Wars version of a Romanov impostor.” Then I thought, “Aha!” I wrote out a “road map” and the first four chapters the winter of 2020 but I decided to hold off on posting the story until after “Love.” I did rewrites and additional chapters beginning around June. I was going to start posting “Lost” right after I finished posting “Love,” but lots of people were still reading “Love” so I held off until August. In the meantime I posted a short canonverse one-shot.

Half the fun of writing “Lost” was researching the Romanov family, the Russian community in London, and life in 1921. For example, for the Paris chapters I watched on YouTube a silent travelogue from that era. It gave me ideas for settings, like the colonnade folly where Ben proposes to Rey. Because I am not Orthodox, I had to read up on Russian Orthodox traditions. I even watched on YouTube an entire Russian Orthodox wedding ceremony. I left out the “betrothal” part of the ceremony, where they exchange rings, because I figured it would be more interesting to start the scene during the most unique part, the “crowning.”

I generally do not write alternate universes, even though they are very popular among Reylos. The challenge of writing an AU is keeping the characters true to their canon counterparts, otherwise you could be reading about anybody, not Rey and Ben and company. What was additionally challenging was making Rey an impostor who’s still sympathetic and writing Ben as mostly Ben, not so much as Kylo Ren. I figured Rey had to not know she was an impostor. That’s where Snoke came in. The next challenge was making Rey a victim of Snoke’s manipulations without making her seem weak (I hope I succeeded). Anna Anderson’s story was very helpful. Anderson was the most famous Anastasia impostor and until she was proven not to be a Romanov by DNA testing, there had been for decades a question as to whether she was the real thing. She’d turned up in an insane asylum in Germany in the early 1920s, suffering from amnesia, and claimed she was the princess. Some of Anastasia’s real extended family and associates believed--or wanted to believe--it was her. (This is where “Duchess Holdova” comes into the story.) Some people even coached Anderson on details about the Romanov family. There had been several movies, documentaries, t.v. shows, and even a Broadway show about Anastasia impostors who turned out to be the real thing. Given that all of the Romanovs were accounted for by 2007, I did not want to go that route. My goal was for Rey and Ben to end up together even though she was not Anastasia. So I had to think about how that would be possible.

I made Ben an orphan at the outset, his parents victims of the Russian revolution, because I thought bringing them into this would’ve dragged the down the story. I figured he went through a Kylo phase after the deaths of his parents and Rey gave him a new lease on life. As a side note: I originally thought of this being an “explicit” story but as it went along, the tone was kind of more of a gentle romance so the planned smut got toned down.

When I was writing “Love,” I wondered if I was spent too much time in libraries. In “Lost,” I wondered if I spent too much time talking about newspapers. But a century ago, that was the main way information was dispensed. Even radio was new technology in 1921. I remember they made a big deal out of that newfangled “wireless” on “Downton Abbey.” So there was a lot of talk about newspapers.

In any case, the thing I learned from writing “Lost” is that AUs should be like dreams where you encounter the familiar in different settings. Will there be more AUs in the future We shall see!

#reylo #reylo fan fiction #reylo fanfic #reylo fic

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reliciron · 4 years

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Exploring Arcann’s Romance: Part 2

Alright, now on to the arguably more fun idea: he was interested in your character from the beginning or at least while he was still the villain.

Part 1 here

Admittedly, this option is much newer to me (though I’m not sure why I didn’t occur to me before), but the possibilities are very interesting.

I like some pre-existing structure. Thinking up missing scenes in the existing content is easier for me because I have a definite starting and stopping situation. If my character just came from a cutscene on the bridge of the Gravestone, and the next cutscene is in the Dark Sanctuary of the ship, then its easy to write what happens in the middle. I know where they were and I know where they need to be by the end. When the gap is too large, like between the end of KotET and the start of Iokath, I don’t really know what to do with myself and the possibilities overwhelm me, turning my scenes into a disjointed mush. So this option is actually very appealing to me (on top of extending that sweet, sweet pining).

Of course, when I say that he was interested in your character while he was a villain, I don’t mean that he was actually pining per-say, so much as his obsession with you was not just out of hatred. And as weird as it may be, I think it was Valkorian that spurred that interest.

Yeah, I know, Valkorian playing cupid is a really disturbing image, but he did sow the seeds of what would eventually be your romance.

When we first meet Arcann, he’s pretty dismissive of you. Even when he’s saying that your past accomplishments are “impressive” it’s still with a mocking tone, and when he tells you to “come along” it’s like he’s speaking to an errant child. As if he’s annoyed at the very idea that he has to babysit a prisoner, like some lowly guard.

He clearly doesn’t think much of you.

The exact moment he starts taking you seriously is when Valkorian extends his hand to you, giving you respect and asking that you join him.

Like I talked about in part 2 of my Redeeming Arcann posts:

Arcann trained for years, went through battle after battle for months, lost him arm, murdered his brother, just to be extended the same courtesy.

As far as he’s concerned, you’re just some asshole who did some cool stuff waaaaaaay over there. Prior to the destruction of Marr’s ship, Arcann didn’t even know you existed, and you haven’t even met Valkorian, yet he’s treating you like he’s known you for years. Like he’s been eagerly following your exploits, while Arcann was just doing what Valkorian expected of him.

It clearly enrages him. Lucky for us that rage is directed (rightfully) at Valkorian.

Still, Valkorian acknowledging your strength made Arcann take a second look at you. If you were so awesome that his father immediately treated you with respect, than you were clearly someone to watch out for. And that is were his interest starts.

Of course that interest is definitely later bolstered by the fact that Valkorian took up residence in your head, but he didn’t know that at the time (I think? I’m not entirely sure but we’re going with it).

He didn’t kill you. It would’ve been easier to kill you right then and there in the throne room. But he didn’t. You were interesting enough that he froze you rather than put you to death.

When you escape, he’s incredibly pissed, and I think a decent portion of the ‘anger’ we see then is actually fear. We know that our PC is the ultimate badass, but all he knows is what he read in the records of Marr’s ship. As far as we know at least.

Its been 5 years. He probably had his hands full at first when he conquered the Republic and Empire. But after that it was just day to day stuff, which he clearly didn’t care much about. You cannot tell me that he never looked you up in all that time. With how worried he was when you escaped, he had to know more about you than a basic list of titles and accomplishments.

It’s one thing to do great things when you have a decent support and power structure, but doing great things when you have nothing is an entirely different beast. He wouldn’t have known that the Outlander would be capable of doing damage as a nobody unless he read up on how you accomplished the things you did.

It’s the difference between knowing that you won the Great Hunt, and knowing that you did it in spite of a powerful foe blocking your way at every turn and only having like two people at your back.

The first one is impressive, the second one is scary.

Every time he has you cornered in KotFE, you manage to squirm away, doing further damage on your way out. He consistently underestimates you, and every time it happens he gets more and more angry. That’s why he’s so pissed by the Battle of Odessen that he’s willing to ignore Scorpio.

You challenge him. And as much as he hates you for it at some level I think he’s also intrigued by it.

Why does this person keep fighting him? Why does nothing seem to phase them? How did they get this strong? (This one is probably even more upsetting to him when the character is solidly light-side. He’d done a lot of terrible things to become this powerful and he definitely looks down on light-side choices as ‘weak’, so why is this ‘weak’ person able to challenge him? And if they are able to get this strong from the light-side, were all the things he’d done truly necessary?)

“When we first met all those years ago, I felt threatened by you. But now I see that I admired you even then – and it angered me.” - In-game Message

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Ok, best part, once he’s aware of his feelings for you, how does he act? And what is he like post-confession and into a relationship?

(Everything in this analysis is subjective, but I’ve been trying to leave room for other people’s interpretations. This part is going to be heavily biased in favor of how I read him as a character. If this isn’t how you see him, that’s perfectly fine, maybe this can just get you thinking about it.)

Alright, here we go.

Arcann screams ‘unsure’ to me more than anything else.

Why did the Commander spare him? What does the Commander think of him? What is expected of him in the Alliance? How does he even begin to atone for his past? WHY IS THE COMMANDER SO NICE TO HIM?!?!

He is also positively drowning in self-hatred.

Which unfortunately means that once he realizes he has feelings for the Commander, he likely makes the decision that he won’t tell them. Ever.

He doesn’t deserve to have feelings for anyone. Least of all the person he tried killed several times.

He should be happy that he is allowed to be in the Alliance. Happy that he can use is abilities to protect them, instead of hurt them. Happy just to be near them.

The poor bastard probably has zero people skills beyond intimidation. And intimidating is the last thing he wants to be now. So there’s going to be a long period of awkwardness where he wants to be closer to them, maybe even friends, but really doesn’t know how. He’ll come across as stilted and there will be a lot of long awkward silences. Of course he’s a very smart man, so he’ll know that he’s being awkward, which then leads to him getting frustrated with himself. We’ll see a little flicker of his old temper, not enough to be scary, but our character might not know whether that anger is focused at them or not. He’ll be hesitant and cautious, and will often fall back on submission. (Thanks, Valkorian). It will take time for both parties to get on the same page, and the Commander will need to be patient and do a lot of work to drag him out of his shell.

I foresee some talks with Senya. Probably for both Arcann and the Commander, but never at the same time. Poor, long suffering, Senya.

Once, he’s more comfortable, he might start doing things for them. Little sweet things, that are still safely within the boundaries of ‘friend things’ (at least as far as he understands, I don’t think he’s ever had a friend that wasn’t a sibling). I can see this sort of gifting behavior as a subtle I’m-not-trying-to-court-them-this-is-what-friends-do-RiGhT?! behavior. This culminates with the armor he gives you in the canon confession scene (assuming you include it).

Giving you armor, especially ‘to ensure you’re always protected’, just screams ‘I like you’ in big neon lights. And I personally love the idea that in Zakuulan culture, it IS a confession of romantic intentions. He just assumes the Commander doesn’t know that, so he can confess without actually confessing.

Ok, however you did it, they’re together.

I think he’d be borderline timid in the beginning.

Personal Headcanon is: Arcann had never been in a relationship before. Sex, yes. But not a relationship. Given what Valkorian says in his voice over during the KotFE trailer, I seriously doubt that he would have let them have enough freedom and down time to be able to have one. Especially since forming a strong attachment to someone else would threaten Valkorian’s power over them. So in addition to him just generally being unsure of himself, he also has zero experience in the relationship department.

He’s rarely completely out of his depth, so this would probably be a source of anxiety for him. He loves the Commander so much, but he’s so scared of doing something wrong and driving them away.

There will need to be some talks and comforting on your character’s part, letting him know that there really isn’t a ‘right’ way and that they’ll figure things out as they go along. That there will always be some hiccups in a relationship, but that’s OK and not the end of the world.

His insecurity about his looks will probably surface again, in one way or another. I mean, he wore a mask for years because he was so uncomfortable with people seeing his scars. And I think he left the mask behind, not because he’d come to terms with his appearance, but because he knew that his masked face had more or less become the symbol of his tyranny and he wanted to distance himself from it (along with being less recognizable while he was running around the galaxy). So I don’t think he’s really accepted his facial scars, let alone the scarring around his cybernetic arm. The arm will also be a source of anxiety for him, since most cybernetics seem to be stronger than the original limb. He might worry about accidentally hurting his new partner, either by gripping to tight, or by catching skin or hair in the joints of his fingers. You’ll also have to decide if his cybernetics are detachable (so he might take it off before sleeping), or if they’re permanently attached and can only be removed by a specialist. Does he do maintenance himself, or does he have someone else do it? Does your Commander have training in cybernetics and can therefore help him?

He’ll be very aware of what others think of his relationship with the Commander, and what it may cost them to be with him. I can see them keeping the relationship secret for a while, until its a little less new, and a little more comfortable. Then they’d let the inner circle know. Then the rest of the Alliance. There won’t be any official announcement, they just won’t hide it anymore.

Of course, I think Arcann will generally be less affectionate in public. There will be little things, like guiding them with his hand on their lower back, hugs, hand holding, but there won’t generally be kisses unless he’s worried enough to forget everyone who could be watching. The poor bastard is probably extremely touch-starved, so I bet he’ll really be into any affectionate touches the Commander will give him in private. For a while though, the Commander will likely be the one initiating things, until he feels secure enough in the knowledge that his touch truly is wanted.

Down the line, he’ll eventually come out of his shell more. He’ll be more confident, and openly protective (not to a controlling degree). I feel like this period is even more up to you, as it depends even more heavily on your perception of Arcann and what fanfic events you’ve put him through to get here.

One Quick Note About Alien Races:

It could be that I missed something, but I get the feeling that aliens are a new thing to Zakuul. That Nautolan chick who serves Scorpio seems to have immigrated there while we were frozen, and the only other alien that I remember seeing as a Zakuulan citizen was that random Bothan lady with the rebels in the beast pit of Vaylin’s party. I’m guessing that she’s an immigrant too, because other than those two, I don’t remember any other aliens there. I know the higher ups were AWARE of the greater galaxy, they just thought it was a backwater nowhere compared to them and saw no reason to poke around. I’m not sure the general population was aware, since they seem so blissfully ignorant to just about everything.

So I headcanon that aliens were pretty much unknown to most of them. Assuming that, I’d say the first time Arcann met aliens was on those battles Valkorian sent him on. ‘testing’ the Republic and Empire. He clearly didn’t have aliens on staff, so his contact with them has been minimal.

I like thinking about this because it adds another layer of ‘what the fuck do I do’ when he’s pining for, and eventually in a relationship with, the Commander. I’m not saying he’d be racist towards them, I’m just saying there’d be room for some cultural misunderstandings, and that he’d be extra worried about it. Even more fun if he’s ignorant of some of an alien’s natural abilities, like a Nautolan’s ability to sense people’s emotions, or a Cathar’s advanced senses. Cause once he finds out, we’d get the added horror of him realizing that he might’ve given his feelings away in a way that he hadn’t even anticipated or been able to control.

By the time Arcann and the Commander get together, dating aliens must’ve become a thing in Zakuul. It’s been over 5 years, and if Mass Effect has taught me anything, it takes exactly 0.6 seconds for humans to be DTF an alien.

It’s just one more facet of their relationship to explore, that’s all.

Ok, I think that’s it, any more and I’ll feel like I’ll be talking in circles. This has been more of a stream of consciousness thing, so hopefully it made sense and wasn’t too boring. One last time, this is all my own perception of Arcann and how I would approach a romance with him in a fanfic. If you guys have anything to add or any contrasting ideas I really would love to hear them.

Part 1 here.

#swtor #arcann #arcann tirall #character analysis #arcann romance #kotfe #swtor kotfe #swtor kotet #kotet

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dherzogblog · 3 years

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songs/20

Happy Holidays Everyone! I started making these yearly playlists in 2001 as an attempt to connect with friends in the wake of 911. It was just before the dawn of ITunes, and way before social media. We were not in touch like we are today. I burned dozens of individual cd’s one at a time, printed up customized jewel case covers and snail mailed them all out. It was an annual month-long labor of love. Over the past few years, streaming music has made it much easier and faster to compile and distribute, and frankly much more fun. I still look forward to putting the playlist and blog together and sharing it with all of you. Particularly this year as it gives me a chance to connect with so many friends I haven’t seen in quite some time. It was a tremendously challenging year for all of us. I was grateful to have had my family here in LA the entire time, we remain healthy and well. The west coast Herzogs know just how lucky we have been. The next year will not be without its own challenges, but I'm hopeful we are able to move past this pandemic and the exhausting events of the past 4. More than that, I look forward to seeing each and every one of you in 2021. Until then, be safe, be well, and be good to one another. Enjoy the music.

ox peace, dh

Los Angeles CA. December 2020

Khruangbin - Time (You And I) Don’t ask me to pronounce the name of this eclectic trio from Texas, but this dubby disco tune had me returning to its chilled out groove often during the last few decidedly “un-chill” months. Dreamy and funky, the groove takes me back to NYC’s early 80′s club scene and Ze Records releases from the likes of Kid Creole and Coati Mundi.

Anderson .Paak- Lockdown Scenes from the front, June 2020

Bill Withers (1938-2020)- Use Me The legendary Bill Withers left the playing field at the top of his game in the early 80′s, hardly heard from again. And while he didn't pass from Covid, his healing pop hymn Lean On Me seemed to be everywhere as people found music to help them cope with the challenges of the pandemic. Withers left behind a legendary and enduring group of hit songs that moved easily from soul to folk to pop, not to mention the subtle rolling funk of this one.

Black Pumas- Fire Strong debut from an unlikely Austin duo that garnerd both buzz and grammy nods. The critics are calling it “psychedelic soul”. Not quite sure that nails it, but like the artists coming up next, they’re carving out new ground while drawing inspiration from classic sources.

Gabe Lee- Babylon

Marcus King- Wildflowers and Wine

Charley Crockett- Welcome to Hard Times

Three artists that are literally changing the face of Country and Americana music. Soulful, authentic and diverse, reaching back for inspiration but always looking forward. If you like this sort of stuff they are all worth checking out. Each album is filled with quality songs.

Low Cut Connie_ Private Lives Philly’s Low Cut Connie are back at it with a double album that plays like the soundtrack to a boozy night at your favorite bar. Sweaty, funky and not a little bit messy. If Peter Wolf and Bruce had a kid it would be this blue eyed soul boy. Adam Weiner grew up in the shadow of the Jersey shore and can't help but have a bit of that E Street hustle.

Willie Nile- New York at Night One of New York’s beloved adopted son’s dropped this love letter right into the jaws of a battered metropolis driven to its knees by the pandemic. It was heartbreaking to listen as the “city that never sleeps” came to a full stop. Somehow I still found myself coming back to it, imagining night’s ahead, when NYC is back on its feet and I’m roaming its streets. Looking for music, a beer, or maybe just a slice, and fueled by the irreplaceable energy and promise of the greatest city on earth.

The Long Ryders- Down to The Well Americana pioneers the Long Ryders reunited last year for a surprisingly solid album. This single sounds like it could have been recorded during their 80′s heyday featuring their trademark Byrds like jangle and harmonies, but the lyrics mark this song as unmistakably 2020.

The Speedways- Kisses Are History UK power pop outfit reach back to the the 60′s on this sweet slice of retro pop perfection.

Billie Joe Armstrong- That Thing You Do

In the early days of the pandemic we had all our kids (+ a significant other) at our house for a few months. It worked out great and we were luckier than most. The biggest issue was keeping enough food, weed and wine around. There were some great nights with amazing meals, followed by gathering around the TV together. We re-watched The Sopranos, binged Billy On The Street, and revisited some of our favorite movies. One night we went back to a old family favorite, Tom Hanks’ underrated love letter to the one hit wonders of the post Beatles era, That Thing You Do! I’ve seen the movie several times and it never fails to please. A true feel good film and a perfect Kodak snapshot capturing a simpler time in American pop culture.

While we watch the unlikely chart topper’s The Oneders fizzle as fast as they rose to fame, its not really the point. The movie is really an old fashioned love story. Playing like a perfect hit song you can listen to over and over, full of both hooks and heart. I always thought the title track, written by Fountains Of Wayne leader Adam Schlesinger (who we lost to Covid), brilliantly captured the British Invasion sound every group wanted after The Beatles stormed America. Green Day’s Billie Joe Armstrong must agree. During the pandemic he cut an album’s worth of cool covers including a faithful version of this one.

Gerard Way (W/Judith Hill - Here Comes the End A tale of discovering music in 2020: Heard this on a Netflix trailer for the series The Umbrella Factory. Turns out it is performed by Gerard Way (My Chemical Romance) who also writes the comic book the series is based on. (got all that?) He’s joined on this searing garage/psych rave up by the talented and versatile Judith Hill doing her best Merry Clayton.

Hinds- Spanish Bombs I’ve been following this Madrid based, all female outfit of punky garage rockers for a few years now. I think they are pretty great. This track, recorded for a Joe Strummer tribute bursts with an unbridled joy the stone faced and politically minded Clash could never muster. I bet Joe would love it though

The Secret Sisters- Hand Over My Heart Have enjoyed their harmonies for some time now. This one gives me vague Wilson Phillips vibes and I don’t really mind.

Tame Impala- Breathe Deeper I know I’m supposed to like this guy, all the cool kids do, I’ve even seen the band at Coachella. Over the years very little of the music has stuck to me, but the pandemic offered a bit more free time to dig into this funky dubby, chilled out jam, and it stuck with me. Not to mention that 2020 was all about deep breaths.

Ledisi (feat.Corey Henry)- What Kind of Love Is That Ledisi is back with some slinky, sultry R&B and jazzy vocals

Dinner Party- FreezeTag An R&B/Jazz collective featuring Terrace Martin, Robert Glasper, 9th Wonder and Kamasi Washington use sweet soul on heartbreaking and all too familiar tale..

Toots and The Maytals- Time Tough I’ve written an awful lot about my love for Reggae over the years. Right after Bob Marley kicked the door down for me, Toots showed me around the house. Ska, rock steady, and roots. He was true reggae royalty and sadly we lost him to Covid, just after he released what would be his last album. Check my Toots tribute blog and playlist.

Mungo’s Hi Fi- The Beat Goes SKA! These clever UK roots reggae collective never fail to surprise. This kitschy Sonny & Cher cover managed to make me smile every time I heard it. No mean feat in 2020

Stone Foundation (feat. Durand Jones)- Hold on To Love Frequent collaborators with Paul Weller (he appears on a track on the album), Stone Foundation are back with another batch of their UK soul revival stylings. This one features Durand Jones ( of Durand Jones & The Indications) on vocals and some great reggae style horns at the top.

The Pretenders- You Can’t Hurt A Fool Can’t resist a good torch song, especially sung by the smokey voiced Chrissie Hynde. Was kind of shocked at how many good songs were on this album.

Shelby Lynne_ Don’t Even Believe in Love Sultry country soul and one of her strongest albums in awhile.

Jaime Wyatt- Neon Cross Outlaw country has a new bad girl. And in case you didn’t think she was serious, she enlisted producer Shooter Jennings (and his mom Jessi Colter on one track) to help make her point.

Daniel Donato- Justice 25 year old guitar prodigy call his music “cosmic country”. Ok, now I’m listening. You should be too.

The Jayhawks- This Forgotten Town 30 plus + after their debut this Twin Cities alt country group led by founding member Gary Louris continue to deliver. They find their inner Neil Young on this one.

Lucero- Time To Go Home God I wish I was in a bar right now listening to this, even if I might be crying in my beer.

John Prine (1946 -2020)- Lake Marie We lost so many this year, but this one really stung. A true American songwriting treasure, who was still making great music against all odds right up to his untimely passing. His songs are known for their simplicity, and economy of words. but this one goes against the grain. I’m still not exactly certain what it’s about. Sorrowful and haunting, yet somehow uplifting and redemptive. I heard him perform it live here in Los Angeles a just over a year ago and it has stuck in my head ever since. There is surely a place in heaven for the great John Prine. He sang about it on his final studio album in 2018. Ironically it became the last song on his last record.

Thanks for making it this far....

***Play the entire songs/20 Spotify playlist HERE!***

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trubilee · 4 years

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so i guess i’ll write (blogwrite?) now.

today we were authorized for early release at D, the way we are whenever there’s a holiday, so i decided to use up my 3 hours of company-gifted time to try and write this morning (not write this blog, but write other stuff, which tired me so now i am writing this blog as my treat for this last hour).

it has been a challenge to write these past several months. i sort of think i know why, or i know what triggered it at least. not sure why the difficulty persists but i guess i could pat myself on the back for trying this morning.

there are a lot of things i’ve been wanting to write about. in no particular order, my performance eval at work, my strange quarantine life-related skincare fixation journey (oh, the ups and downs), wes and happiness and my odd overthinking of it sometimes, the chasing francis book i finished a couple weeks ago, the funeral last week, and... hmm. maybe that’s around everything i can think of. oh, music in the time of rona too. also stuff in me that the writing has kicked up. i guess i could try. oh, and my bras of choice during these WFH times. maybe a little about daisy and the vaccine.

so. performance eval. it went extremely well. we took the full hour. my leader L is not the type to give much feedback, but in the first half of that hour she basically looked straight at me and told me all the things i would’ve wanted to hear. about client group 1, and 2, and 3, the breadth and versatility and equal parts drafting and interpersonal connecting components of them all. i repeated it all to paul when i told him how it went, and really, really it was everything i would’ve wanted to hear from her. i was praying thanks to God as she was talking to me through the screen, because i was just absorbing all the words that i had been so hungry to have her give to me this whole past year. and there are so many things to it too. things like, i know i am not perfect and everything to everyone the way i think i should--even could be--and i can’t necessarily just say to myself “oh but nobody is” because actually, at this company, there are some people who are, they really really are just so good, and i feel so bad just taking in how good they are at thinking on their feet and killing it at getting things done here, and being so articulate and effective at communicating and dynamic and all of it. anyway, the conversation felt so... whole-making. hahaha. make-whole-ing? another part of it is that i have always been grateful for the job, i always felt like it was suck a lucky winning when i shouldn’t have necessarily landed it and with that came this default set of thoughts that went, oh they hate me. oh they think i am inept. oh they see how inept i am. they regret hiring me. i don’t want them to regret hiring me. that would be one of my worst fears, jobwise. to burden someone with my existence on their team. i know that it’s healthy to think that a company is lucky to have you and to know your worth and all, but bc i’m kind of acquainted with my own versions of total failure, i’m not good at thinking that way. i’m always thinking that i’m lucky to work for X company. it would probably make many a leadership coach or asian american advancement advocate grimace. i’m sure it’s a handicap to me careerwise, salarywise, etc etc, but asking me to fix it is like asking mesomeone to stop being insecure. in that, it's not something you can change by will. it almost feels like a part of my dna, not just some protective armor. this is why i sort of roll my eyes inside when someone announces that she (it’s usually a she) has imposter syndrome. it’s unfair, i know, but i almost want to look around and say, wait is that not just the normal state of things? why are you acting like it’s some sort of unusual complex that you have? i thought everyone, anyone with any noonchi, had that. that’s like saying that--gasp--you don’t think you’re the absolute sh*t. it doesn’t mean you're afflicted with anything. i should ease up a little.

damn. i only have 20 min left.

ok another thing about the performance eval. about which i joked to my leader, when she said we could have these conversations more regularly if we wanted to, that my heart could only take once a year at most. i was so relieved, so happy, i felt so uncaged afterwards. bc again, really it extinguished all of the unhelpful fears that had made me so tense about work this year. and part of me, the part that is always maybe a little too self aware, thought to myself, that gosh, if getting a positive review from my leader at some big company where i am a corporate peon is this satisfying to me, then perhaps my world, my dreams, are just rather small.

i was thinking about that and preemptively tried to put it to paul this way: that sometimes i feel very rich. not like money-wise, bc i know just enough of the wrong people to ever feel that way (lol). but more in a life-currency sort of way. like when i think about my little family of three, my son who is so perfectly delightful that i don’t even know how to--i don’t know how to appreciate him or even just take him in without feeling like his delightfulness is slipping through my fingers simultaneously with, even AS i’m, looking at him and trying to appreciate him and take him in (does that make any sense?), my husband who i have similar slightly overwhelmed feelings about when it comes to his quality as a human being and heart on this earth, and my mom and dad who both survived their different cancers. about how somehow God provided me with not just the friends i needed but even extra friends who i didn’t dare think i had a chance at asking for, and even this house, and having and seeing daisy and family regularly, and gosh even my inlaws who only seem to ever give and never receive (sorry, ommonim abbonim...) and my sister in law who i feel the same way about, and our nanny, and yes this job too, this job i once never thought i had the right to even dream of having bc of said past failures, this job for two companies brands i adore and believe in. and the chance to write, and feeling like i have something to write about. and even knowing a handful of living, breathing, non-robot human beings who actually read what i write, actually think it’s worth their time. what marvels.

on the other hand, sometimes i feel rather poor. i feel like we don’t have enough savings, we aren’t saving enough. i feel like we will always just need to work for a salary bc neither of us is in a job role where we make dividends happen for us. and i am so junior here at a place where promotions are slower than slow anyway, and salaries aren’t tech or finance salaries anyway. and i feel ugly and like a half-distracted working mom whose life is devoid of glamour or romance or margin or space or passion / vision. well, i guess my “poor” list is a lot shorter than my rich list.

all this to say, after my dumb performance eval i felt like a rich woman. not because they told me i was getting some big raise (i’m not, and i don’t generally care bc the raises are so small and have you seen the mass layoffs happening here). i felt rich bc i felt like i got really validating feedback from leaders i really admire, both on a professional and personal level, and i work on a team with colleagues who i think are really excellent at what they do, and i work at a company where i really like what they make. i feel kind of silly typing all of this out bc it’s so freaking wholesome and vanilla and, again, small, but it’s true. those things made me happy after my review. and this is the job i report to 8 hours a day. yep. real stable, ordinary stuff.

i told paul that in thinking about how happy i felt and feeling self-conscious about that happiness, i would rather feel like a rich woman and be objectively “poor” than to be the other way around. to feel like i am poor but in reality be quite rich.

it’s also funny bc B and G also specifically separately felt compelled to send me messages confirming this same exact thought, now that i think about it. how wonderful. thank you.

next topic. bras in rona times. yesterday i bought my fourth--no, lemme count--seventh! eberjey bra. it’s not bc i’m being greedy, it’s just that the ones i started with i wore so often that they jstarted wearing out. the eberjey bras are generally underwired, with no lining except a thin layer of lace, and they make my boobs--my post-maternity, seen-such-better-days, already wilted boobs look terrible under my clothes. but i am working from home and don’t need the extra lining for decency’s sake. and when i see the bras in my bra drawer and i deposit my boobs into them every morning it feels lovely. the bras are unflattering but they are delicate enough (while still practical) and comfortable to wear and are lovely to look at.

well i need to start my workday now. if i ever get around to it i’ll write about other stuff.

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lantur · 4 years

Text

if you were mine - part two

summary: Riza has been working on the unit for close to a year when she starts to wonder whether Colonel Mustang’s interest in her is more than professional.

rated: t | words: 4602

part two of four, read part one here

read on ao3

Riza goes home from work on the Monday evening after she and Colonel Mustang return from their undercover assignment in Maastricht. She walks Hayate and cooks dinner, trying a new stew recipe Rebecca had raved about, and then settles on the sofa with this month’s issue of Guns & Ammo and Hayate at her side.

Everything has felt a little surreal since returning from Maastricht late last night. She had fantasized about it for so many years that now that it’s happened, it’s somehow surreal, dreamlike. She keeps expecting to wake up. Reading will help ground her, and she has been looking forward to this issue, featuring a long-awaited review of the Winchester Wildcat.

Riza is halfway into the review of the semi-automatic rifle when she hears a familiar knock on the door. Three short raps, two in quick succession and the last after a pause of exactly four seconds.

Her eyes widen, and she sits up straight, setting the magazine aside, as Hayate yips. She opens the door and pulls her visitor in quickly, casting looks down both sides of the hallway to make sure that none of her neighbors are out and about.

“Don’t worry,” Roy says, shrugging his coat off and throwing it on the rack near the door. “The building’s empty tonight. And I wasn’t followed.”

Riza sighs, relieved. “Good.”

He tilts her face up to his and kisses her, long and slow, and Riza’s knees almost weaken. She will never get used to this. She never wants to get used to this. Yet, it’s just a little jarring, considering that five hours ago, they were in the office together and he had been leading a unit meeting about how to ensnare one of East City’s crime kingpins.

Roy pulls back and gives her that signature look of his - so very perceptive, like he had just read her thoughts. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Fine,” Riza says, taking his hand and leading him to the sofa.

He sits close beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She nestles into him, relishing the intimacy. “Really?”

“Really,” she repeats. “I’ve always been able to compartmentalize. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Of course I do,” Roy says, as if that should be obvious. “You’re my subordinate, and my girlfriend. It’s my job to look out for you.”

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch the last part.”

“You’re my subordinate and my girlfriend, and so it’s my job to--” Roy begins, and then heaves a sigh when he catches the small smile on her face.

“Sorry,” Riza says. “I couldn’t help myself. It’s just so… wholesome, considering the words I’ve been using when I think of it.”

Roy looks down at her. “Don’t let this impact the way you think of yourself, Riza,” he says sharply. “This doesn’t make you any less of an officer or a professional.”

“How can it not?” She hugs her knees to her chest. “It’s drilled into all of our heads from day one of the academy. Don’t fuck your coworkers, but especially don’t fuck your commanding officer or your subordinates.”

Roy winces at the reminder. “I know,” he says. “I reconciled that by reminding myself that there was no coercion, and that I’m not the one who makes decisions about you getting promoted. And I know that I won’t give you preferential treatment, because I also know that this isn’t going to change any of the work you - or we - do.”

Riza leans against him. “Thank you for your faith in me.”

“Always,” he says simply, stroking her hair. “Always.”

“It is good that you came over, though,” Riza says. “I’ve been wondering how this is going to work.”

“Oh?”

“We need to set procedures.” She looks longingly at the pen and notebook on the coffee table. “It goes against everything in me as your adjutant to not write them down and keep a record of it. We’ll have to rely on our memories.”

“Of course.” Roy glances at her thoughtfully. “I came in through the service entrance of your building today. Let’s continue to do that.”

“Good. And we’ll always be in civilian clothes, of course.”

Roy looks over at his black overcoat and frowns. “I’ll have to get a few more. We should avoid repeating any distinguishing articles of clothing, like coats, scarves, hats, and so on.”

“Good thought,” Riza says approvingly. “Any other ideas?”

“Meetings no more than thrice a week, never on consecutive days,” Roy says reluctantly. “And never before nine at night. We need to be sure that we’re not followed by anyone on foot or in a vehicle. If there’s any suspicion of being tailed, we should go back to our own place and stay there for the rest of the night.”

Riza hesitates, considering. “We shouldn’t stay the entire night when we’re together, either. We should leave well before dawn. Maybe four in the morning, at the absolute latest. The last thing we need is for anyone to see us leaving each other’s place early in the morning. That’s even harder to explain away than a late night visit.”

Roy takes her hand, rubbing it apologetically.

“And no meetings outside of our personal residences,” she presses on. “Parks, bars, restaurants, the theatre, all out of the question. If we’re associating anywhere outside of work, our unit has to be there.”

“Just what I need, more time with Havoc.” Roy stands and walks over to the window, pulling the shutters down with a snap, and Riza grimaces at their oversight. “Windows closed and shutters down,” he says. “We’ll both sweep our apartments for bugs or surveillance every other day, and especially before a meeting. I’ll check my car regularly as well. Have we missed anything?”

“This should go without saying,” Riza says pointedly. “But absolutely no unprofessional behavior in the office, even when we’re alone after hours.”

Roy gives her a mournful look. “Fine.”

“Of course, we will act no differently at work or when socializing with the unit. That shouldn’t be a challenge.”

Roy comes back to the sofa and sits beside her. “Maes won’t learn about this, either,” he says. “And neither will Catalina. They can - and will, and probably do already, if your conversations with Catalina are anything like mine with Maes - speculate, but those suspicions will remain unconfirmed.”

“They’re both trustworthy about any suspicions they might have, too.”

They look at each other for several moments, the grim weight of the discussion sinking in. Riza remembers his words in Maastricht, the warning that this won’t look like a normal relationship. She hadn’t fully realized the extent of that statement then.

“This is all very unromantic,” Roy says, his shoulders slumping. He runs a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “I’m sorry.”

Riza leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Romance,” she says, “is overrated.”

Riza remembers the learning curve when she had started working on the unit.

The military academy had trained her to be a soldier, not an adjutant specifically, so the learning curve had been steep. Prior to starting her duties, she had studied every book on the role of the adjutant that she could find in the East City Command Library from cover to cover. Additionally, she had requested meetings and interviews with every other adjutant of every other high-ranking officer in East City, and taken pages upon pages notes from each meeting.

She had prepared herself as best as she could. And despite her anxiety, she had marshaled every drop of her composure and been the consummate professional from her first day on the unit.

At the end of her first week, she had mastered the typewriter. At the end of her first month, she had learned how to handle the massive quantity of administrative paperwork on her workload. At the end of her first quarter, she had learned the intricacies of the political and interpersonal relationships between every high-ranking officer stationed at East City Command.

This isn’t so different.

Riza learns several things in quick succession.

She learns that sex feels different in her bedroom than it does in an inn two hours away from home. It feels safer, more familiar, comforting.

In her most private moments, alone in bed, stripping off her clothes and holding a pillow to her breasts, eyes closed, she had wondered what being with Roy would be like. If he would be gentle, tender, restrained, slow, teasing, flirtatious, serious, passionate… She’d had fantasies for every single possibility. She had wondered if she would ever have an answer to that question.

Riza is fascinated to learn that the answer is all of the above, depending on the night and their moods. She wholeheartedly enjoys learning that she loves every one of them equally. She loves it when Roy pins her wrists above her head and presses slow kisses to the inside of her forearms. She loves straddling him on the sofa, kissing him hard, threading her fingers through his hair as he grips her hips tight.

She had never fantasized about this, because years later, it is still a sore spot - figuratively, and literally, though only on particularly hot days. She learns that she even loves being facedown in bed, Roy running his fingertips gently up her spine, from the small of her ruined back, over her shoulder blades, to the nape of her neck. It makes her entire body tingle and shiver, makes her squirm and moan his name softly into the pillow beneath her.

Do you want me to stop? Roy had asked at once, pulling back, his concern evident, and Riza had grabbed his hand and pulled it back to her. Please don’t, she had said. Please.

She likes it when he stays mostly dressed, because Roy is so devastatingly handsome in the formal clothes he likes so much. She likes it just as much when he pulls off his shirt, tossing it aside, so she can run her hands over the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and chest. Predictably, he prefers when she takes everything off, though he makes exceptions when she’s wearing a short skirt.

Riza learns that Roy can be so enthusiastic that he borders on clumsy. Passionate, he corrects, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to the bedroom. Not clumsy. He kisses her so hard that they fall against walls in their apartments’ bedrooms and hallways (though he always cradles the back of her head in one hand so that she doesn’t bump it). She learns that Roy loves it when she nibbles on his ears and his neck, and she is surprised to learn that there’s nothing she likes better than when he trails his fingertips over her hips and stomach.

She learns that she’s never enjoyed the sound of her name more than when he says it, breathed into her ear and nuzzled against it, or holding her tight in his arms, and he feels the same way.

And Riza learns about contraceptives for the first time. She knew they existed, of course, but she’d never had the need to learn anything further.

My aunt recommends a tea called Queen Anne’s Lace for the ladies at the bar, Roy tells her, somewhat red-faced, and then thrusts a paper with notes at her. I called her and asked for instructions on how to make it. She said to follow her instructions to the letter, and that we should call her if we have any issues getting the powder here. She’ll send it from Central. She has plenty.

Luckily, Riza finds that Amelia’s Apothecary on the far side of town sells Queen Anne’s Lace, powdered. Within a month, she becomes an expert at brewing it, though she never gets used to the bitter taste.

And the months slide effortlessly into a year, a span of time that feels like twice that. Between their history, their work, and their intimate relationship, their lives have never been more completely intertwined. It had happened so seamlessly, the transition - integration? - from colleagues and friends to lovers.

Riza takes Hayate for walks and goes out with Rebecca on the weekends and in the evenings. Sometimes her gaze lingers on couples out to dinner, sitting at restaurant patios, holding hands. Sharing picnics at the park, walking together, going out for ice-cream dates, or to the theatre.

Over time, those moments pile up. Moments of little things that make her wistful. Riza chides herself whenever it happens. She averts her eyes and redirects her thoughts. She knew what she was getting into at the start.

She reminds herself of that every time Roy leaves in the middle of the night (kissing her thoroughly, apologetically). She reminds herself of that every morning she wakes up alone, and places a hand on the pillow that still smells faintly of Roy’s shampoo.

It is little comfort to know that Roy feels as bad about it as she does. He has always been generous with her, always buying her food and drinks long before they had begun their illicit relationship, but afterwards, he veers somewhat out of control.

The first thing he buys her is an enormous box of fancy dog treats for Hayate - a sweet gesture. Then comes an upgraded access card to the shooting range, and then a steady stream of firearm parts, polishes, cleaning tools, and other accessories.

Then come boxes of gourmet coffee, tea, and honey. A set of fancy soaps, shampoos, and lotions that weighs almost as much as Hayate. A beautiful cream-colored utility coat that instantly becomes a new favorite. A pair of warm slippers, satin pajamas, a cloud-soft pink bathrobe, several blouses and skirts, a few new pairs of earrings. Under the veneer of smoothness, Roy looks almost imperceptibly anxious on the rare occasion that he gives her the gifts in person. Most of the time, he leaves them in her apartment while she’s out with Rebecca.

“Thank you for bringing me those files about the 1865 unrest in South City,” Riza says quietly, one afternoon when it’s just the two of them in the office. “They were very interesting reading.”

She had gotten back from dinner with Rebecca last night to find the latest in the novel series she likes; The Cases of Eddie Drake, sitting on her bed. The book had just been released a day ago.

Colonel Mustang (she makes herself think of him as Colonel Mustang during work hours) looks pleased. “I’m glad you found it enlightening. I’d like to read through those files as soon as you’re finished.”

“I did find it interesting.” Riza hesitates for just an instant. “With that being said, you don’t have to take the trouble of bringing me files from the library. I can always pick up or order files myself if I need them.”

Colonel Mustang rifles through some paperwork on his desk, making a noncommittal sound. “Don’t worry about it.”

Riza looks over at him. “I mean it, sir. There’s no need for you to go out of your way for me.”

Colonel Mustang clears his throat. “It’s the least I can do for you, Lieutenant.”

“Colonel, it’s really not necessary--”

“I ask a lot of you, Lieutenant. I know that.” Colonel Mustang’s tone brooks no argument. “So please let me do what I can for you.”

“...Thank you, sir.”

Breda, Havoc, Fuery, and Falman return from their lunch then, and Riza lets it drop.

Riza finds a blank memo on her desk one Friday morning, a few weeks later.

She looks over at Colonel Mustang’s desk. He is leaning back in his chair, idly flipping through a report, looking bored out of his mind.

Riza steps out for a break a couple of hours later and takes the memo with her, folded into a tiny square and tucked into her pocket. She locks herself into a stall in the ladies’ bathroom, pulls out a small lighter, and holds it to the paper. Not too close, but not too far.

The heat triggers the special ink, and the words gradually appear before her, written in Colonel Mustang’s neat, precise handwriting. Vollkar Overlook, past the fourth mile marker, ten p.m. Bring Hayate.

It’s a short message, and it takes no longer than an instant to commit it to memory. Riza burns the memo.

She returns to the office and frowns at Colonel Mustang, who is now hunched over the report and appears to be doodling in the margins. He gives her an irrepressible smile.

Riza takes a cab to Trettach Park and walks the thirty minutes to Vollkar Overlook from there, with Hayate by her side. She is grateful for the opportunity to practice their rarely used woodland concealment skills. She keeps vigilant as she walks, hyper-aware of any sound beyond the normal, expected ones, but she still has some mental space to wonder what Roy’s intentions for the memo had been. This could be a professional meeting, or a personal one.

She gets her answer when they emerge from the tree line onto the grassy overlook. Riza blinks, startled, and Hayate yips, rushing forward to greet Roy.

“I don’t know why you’re concerned about your stealth skills,” he says ruefully, bending to pet Hayate. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Good. I’m glad to know that we’ve made improvements.” Riza takes in the sight before her, astonished. A blanket spread out on the grass, with a small radio on top of it, and an assortment of fruits, fancy snacks, cheeses, chocolates, and wine. And even a rawhide bone for Hayate. The radio is playing a soft jazz station. “What is all this?”

“A date, obviously.” Roy wraps an arm around her, and then casts a baleful glance up at the sky. “It was intended to be a romantic moonlight picnic, but the cloud cover isn’t cooperating.”

Riza steps away, looking nervously around them. The overlook is deserted, and Roy’s car is the only one parked on the road. “This is sweet of you, but it violates our procedures,” she says, hating it. “It’s not safe. Anyone could drive up, including a police patrol.”

“I’ve staked it out every night at this time for the past few nights, and had the rest of the unit observe it at night for a week and a half before that. No one comes past the second mile marker. I figured just in case anyone does approach on foot, Hayate would sense it and alert us. And no police patrols will pass the second mile marker tonight, either.” Roy clears his throat. “I called in a favor.”

Riza looks at him, and then back at the picnic, touched by the effort, tempted, and torn. There’s a sudden lump in her throat at the idyllic normalcy of it all. She hadn’t realized how badly she wanted this, how badly she craved some of that normalcy that other couples took so much for granted, until this moment.

Roy puts a hand on her shoulder, sensing the conflict. “Please let me do this for you,” he says quietly. “Everything will be all right. I promise.”

Riza finally, reluctantly nods, and he takes her hand, leading her to the blanket.

They enjoy a long dinner, complete with an olive-throwing target practice exercise that ends with all of Riza’s olives making it into Roy’s mouth at increasingly impressive ranges. To compensate for his lack of aim with the olives, he feeds her the chocolate “like a normal boyfriend would.” It is the kind of indulgent, lovesick display she avoids looking at when passing by other couples at the park, and it feels incredible to engage in it.

“Thank you for doing this,” Riza says, stroking her fingers through his hair. Roy is lying with his head in her lap, looking more relaxed than she’s seen him in a long while. She feels somehow lighter than she had before as well, temporarily freed from holding this secret so close to her heart.

Roy sits up and then shrugs, flustered. “I should have done this much earlier. And I wish I could do more,” he says, after a pause. “Take you out to dinner properly, to the theatre, or the symphony. I hate that I can do that with other women, but not with you. It feels wrong.”

“We both know that it’s not genuine, though,” Riza says gently. “It’s a farce to gather information. Nothing more.”

“I know, but you deserve those nights,” Roy says, frustration creeping into his voice. “You deserve so much more than what I’ve been able to give you. A few gifts, takeout dinners, every time we see each other being in our apartments - I treat you like some of the senior staff treats their secret mistresses. I hate it.”

Riza stares at him, surprised by the outburst; by the fact that he had voiced what she has thought in her darker moments. Roy averts his gaze from hers. “Sometimes I worry that you won’t put up with it for much longer,” he murmurs. “That you’ll realize that you would rather be with a man who doesn’t treat you like a dirty little secret.”

Riza reaches out, cupping his face with one hand, searching for the right words. “You talk about what you’ve been able to give me and what I deserve. What you’ve given me is a relationship with a man I love and trust more than anything,” she says firmly. “I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

Roy looks at her steadily. “I love you, Riza.”

Riza smiles. “I love you too.”

They board the six o’clock evening train from Resembool to East City in silence.

They sit next to each other, hand-in-hand. By the time the train arrives at the East City station, they will have moved to sit across from one another, the image of professionalism.

Riza stares out the window at the rolling green hills and meadows that they pass, lost in thought. She feels a little sick to her stomach, a little nauseous. The events of the day keep replaying in her mind. What they had seen in the Elric home. Alphonse Elric, soul-bound to a massive suit of armor - that suit of armor speaking in the sweet, innocent voice of a young boy. Edward Elric, so young, but so broken, despondent.

They were just children.

She had remained professional and calm throughout, but it had shaken her, and even now, Riza’s eyes sting as she thinks back to it. She had been unprepared for the emotion she had felt at meeting the two boys; for the desire to draw both of them into her arms and tell them that everything would be all right.

“I’m glad that Edward seems interested in your offer,” she says. “It will be good for him to have structure, a sense of purpose, and some more positive figures in his life. I think that will save him from slipping into further despair.”

“Yeah,” Roy says. “Poor kid. Both of them.” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye. “Are you okay? Everything we saw at the Elric home, and Alphonse…”

Riza swallows. “It’s hard to take in,” she says, resting her head against his shoulder. “Just imagining the suffering they went through. They’ve been very brave.”

They lapse into silence again, and Riza has some difficulty putting the children out of her mind. Edward, Alphonse, the young girl Winry. Even little Elicia comes to mind. She and Roy had visited Maes and Gracia in Central a couple of months ago. Gracia had made a lovely dinner, and afterwards, the four of them had sat and talked and she and Roy had taken turns holding Elicia. Elicia was sweet and agreeable, and Riza had been surprised by how strangely bittersweet it had felt to hold the toddler in her lap, wrapping her arms around her small body. And watching Roy hold Elicia afterwards, seeing the little girl smile and laugh at the silly voices that “Uncle Roy” did for her - that had been more bitter than sweet.

It’s been almost six years, now. In another world, she and Roy would have been married years ago, with their own Elicia to hold.

Of course, that isn’t possible, and won’t be for a very long time. Riza has reconciled herself to that. She doesn’t feel wistful at the idea of weddings anymore, or look twice at wedding dresses in boutique windows. But it’s only recently that this new realization has hit her - that there most likely won’t be a little dark-haired Elicia, or a little blonde boy like Edward.

She is twenty-five now and Roy is twenty-eight, and there is no telling how far he is from becoming Fuhrer and repealing the anti-fraternization regulations. It could be a decade, conservatively speaking. Optimistically speaking. More realistically, they are looking at fifteen years.

The idea of children of their own is another thing that she will have to let go of.

Riza exhales slowly, trying to release some of the tightness in her chest. It doesn’t work.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Roy asks. “You seem preoccupied.”

“I’m fine.” Riza turns to him, attempting to distract herself. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about growing my hair out.”

Roy blinks. “It’ll be harder for me to run my fingers through if it’s long,” he says ruefully, and does just that, a lingering, tender touch. “It’s hard for me to imagine what you’ll look like. You’ve had it short since the day I met you.”

Riza thinks back to that day, to her relief at no longer being alone in that big house with her father, and smiles.

“I’m sure it’ll be beautiful, though,” Roy says, squeezing her hand. “You always have been.”

Riza nudges him in the side. “And you’ve always been charming to me, even as a seventeen-year-old apprentice.”

“Seventeen...” Roy sighs. “I was so young then.”

“Barely twenty, when you enlisted,” Riza says, thinking about Edward Elric. “Edward is even younger. As a State Alchemist, he’ll be a major at thirteen.”

“That will come with its fair share of challenges,” Roy muses. “He’ll struggle to fit in, on one level, and on another... I know you mentioned exposure to more positive figures in his life, but you have to consider the caliber of people outside of our unit. He’ll be exposed to a lot of negative influences as well.”

Riza frowns, and she can’t help but think back to Ishval, to Kimblee. That is the caliber of some of the Amestris military. Roy squeezes her hand, reading her train of thought, as he always does. “You and Maes can take him under your wings. The two of you are the best influences the military has to offer him. It’s regrettable that Edward lost his parents, but knowing you and knowing Maes - you both can mold him into a good soldier, and a good man.”

Riza nods resolutely. “We will.”

Unbidden, Riza thinks of Fuhrer Bradley, his wife, and their young son, just adopted a couple of years ago. They seem like such a happy family. Mrs. Bradley, especially, dotes on Selim, and Selim adores her. She thinks of Roy’s aunt, Chris Mustang, and how she had raised Roy after the accident that had orphaned him. She’s seen Roy with Chris; underneath the sniping and the sharp verbal barbs they trade, the love they have for one another is clear.

Parenthood can take different forms for different people, Riza reminds herself, and she holds that thought tight, a lifeline. It will be all right.

to be continued

Any thoughts or comments would be very much appreciated! I hope you enjoyed it. :)

#royai #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #fma:b #fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood #roy x riza #royai fanfic #roy mustang x riza hawkeye #royai fic

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invertedeidolon · 4 years

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The Longest Library #1: And on the Eighth Day She Rested by J.D Mason (Or, Eidolon talks too much about their shitty childhood and relationships)

( Until I find a format for these, I’ll just be rambling about the interesting bits I have flagged in the book. There WILL be spoilers. )

Rundown: A perfectly capable story about one woman’s recovery from a 14 year abusive marriage, ‘And On The Eight Day She Rested’ is a quick but immersive read. I give it a 4/5, only because I don’t agree with the heroine’s final decision. If you ignore that, it would have been a 4.5/5. This is because I am a bitter bastard.

Because it’s a story mainly about abuse and recovery, of COURSE I’m going to relate to it. What I wasn’t expecting, was just how well the author depicted the feelings and thoughts involved. The narrative voice is entirely inside the main character’s head, from her perspective, and nobody else’s.

Right off the bat, she talks about how her husband has disappeared again. How this time, instead of being jealous or insecure, she savored her time by herself, even ‘back[ing] away from feelings of inadequacy’. My first relationship involved a lot of ghosting. This is something I desperately wanted to do, to ACTUALLY enjoy time by myself, instead of worrying up and down about how HE’S doing, what HE’S feeling, whether it was my fault he wasn’t talking to me or if I was good enough for him.

“It’s a piece of time that doesn’t warrant any more attention than it’s been given.”

The main character refuses to press charges or do anything at first. All she wants to do is to make that entire part of her life disappear, like it never happened (but of course, after things like that, it’ll never be ‘like it never happened’). I don’t talk a lot about my mom (my abuser) in the present tense. I don’t get very angry thinking about her either. Because she doesn't warrant any more of my time or energy, and if I had it my way, she would just quietly disappear forever.

“But the words linger, piling up inside me like garbage, and when he’s not around to pile on some more, I can usually regurgitate them to remind myself of who I really am.”

I still deal with this, to this day. The things my mother said to me and my sister often return like some kind of horrible specter. I can usually tell when it’s me, or if it’s ‘mom’ talking based on how extreme and unwarranted my language gets toward myself.

“Didn’t I ever dream of being...doing something besides worrying about Eric, pleasing Eric, ducking from Eric, crying over Eric, or crying because of Eric?[...] All these years have I been completely driven by this man to the point that I don’t have the fuel or desire to drive my damn self?”

Yes, actually. Being trapped in the house with your abuser, often makes it so that they’re the focus. Avoiding them, pleasing them, often meant the difference between survival and... not. The main character married him when she was eighteen, and kind of had to grow up with him, depend on him. It gets like that when you’re dependent on somebody. For a long time after getting out of my parent’s place, I would just sleep. I wasn’t needed, so I slept, or laid there. I didn’t know if I was allowed to eat, so I didn’t. Abusers like that often control nearly every aspect of your life, and left to your own devices after they’re gone... you don’t have anything, like a sim with the free will turned off. There’s no self-direction, not even driven by your desires, because your desires didn’t matter, and were punished out of you.

“Even when he was gone, the anticipation of him was enough to keep me in hell and I couldn’t enjoy being alone. [...] My mind was constantly filled with the challenge of keeping everything perfect and not giving him a reason to fuss.”

This is something I still do, although now it’s just a reflex turned into an act of love, as opposed to a survival instinct. I make the surroundings comfortable for my loved ones and myself, because I love them, and I’m aware of how much of a difference the smaller comforts can make, not because I’m afraid of a ragemonster thundering through the house if one little thing is off. I do still get nervous if people are moving too much or making too much noise sometimes (it was like blood in the ocean, make too much noise and here comes the shark, ready to shut it down and punish you for daring to assert that you were in any way alive and not serving her that very moment). Although there are sometimes when my body remembers, but I don’t. I’ll accidentally forget my partner’s tea on the counter and burst into tears out of overwhelming guilt, and then feel ashamed because my emotions are so overblown (but the emotions are from when I would forget something of my mother’s and would be in the midst of fearing punishment). It’s hard sometimes.

There are these poems/prose that happen only twice in the book. I don’t really understand what purpose they serve or why they’re there. Maybe it’s a staple of romance novels, like a writing tick or something?

“I haven’t been able to get the encounter with Eric off my mind. It’s not running into him that’s bothering me. It’s my reaction to him.[...] He’s been out of my life so long, but today I felt that familiar intimidation I used to feel from him and I don’t like it because I thought I’d convinced myself that I was over it.”

I feel this. I feel this hard. I hate just how much power those memories hold over me. I get into a situation that’s similar enough, and I break down and regress back into a kid, following the same set of insane rules. It scares my partners sometimes, that I could be terrified and obviously hurting, but still deflecting any questions about me, and being extra attentive to them and only them. Because that was how you did it. You showed fear, you were punished. You made anything about you, you were punished. And god forbid I ‘break a rule’ in that state, because I devolve into a terrified mess, because the rest of my nervous system expects a punishment for it. Sometimes the freeze response is so bad that my body shuts down. It was enough pain in the past that my body felt like there was a threat on it’s life, and prepared me for it accordingly, slowing everything down, making it harder to move (It’ll hurt less when the lion eats you if your muscles aren’t tensed), flooding my brain with opiates to make things numb and foggy and distant. It was enough to make my body think I was going to die. Of course it doesn’t just go away. The body wants to live. It WILL remember, no matter how ashamed you are of it. And by god am I ashamed.

“I refused to give that bullshit any more attention than it’s been given”

For me, it’s who my mother was as a person. I spent a really long goddamn time fighting not to blame myself. I refuse to recognize her as anything but empty and monstrous. I get angry when people attempt to assign any kind of humanity or careful, conscious thought to her. She has neither. She is a creature, driven by instinct. I don’t care that she made me, she’s never made anything good in her life. I refuse to give her credit for me. I made me. Not her. She didn’t raise me, and she sure as hell isn’t raising her other daughter, I AM.

“I waited all day, but he never called. So the next day, I call him, several times, but he doesn’t return any of my messages.” - “Lately, my nerves are on edge and there’s an uneasiness flowing through my veins. I’ve been trying to ignore these feelings, but it’s hard to do. I sense a shift occurring in my little universe.[...] He won’t talk to me except to say he’s tired, or busy, promising we’ll talk later, but later never seems to come. Most of the time I sit here waiting for the phone to ring, hoping it’s him and hoping things will be back to normal again. When that doesn’t happen, I go to bed trying not to be depressed about us breaking up and trying not to make plans for my life without him in it.”

So back to ghosting dude. The fear of pulling away only got stronger the more he did it. I‘d dread when I didn’t get replies, because then I would think ‘Is he doing it again? Will I have to wait another three months?’. And before you go “But Eidolon! What a shithead! Why didn’t you leave him be?”, this was happening while I was still living with my mother. He was the only source of nice things and what felt like genuine attention I’d ever had. A starving dog would rather take bread from someone who feeds them once a week than to take bread from someone who beats them. Insert that study about the rats and the lever and how the lever that inconsistently gave rewards was more attractive/addictive than the one that was consistent. Anyway, this part of the book filled me with a tension, a dread I didn’t expect to feel. The new boyfriend, The One, the First Healthy Relationship is obviously going downhill, and nothing is being said about it because ‘what if I ruin it’. The first quote made the pit of my stomach open up, and the second set made me question whether someone was spying on me 6ish years ago. 5/5 on a realness scale. Fuck me up, J.D.

“I can’t lose this man. Whatever is bothering him, whatever problems he has I want to be there for him. I want to be his woman and help him work through them. No matter how difficult, or how impossible things might appear to him, I can and will do anything for Adrian Carter. He has to know this.”

Whoof boy. The determination and blind hope that it IS something that I can deal with, that it isn’t anything huge or life altering, that we can get through this. In the end, the same thing happened in the book that happened to me. He didn’t WANT help, he’d already made up his mind without me (despite previous assurances that SOME kind of communication would happen). I like my current relationship. Everybody actually fucking TALKS, and they TRY, instead of crumpling and giving up like that.

So I’m not quoting this part of the book, otherwise I’d be writing out almost an entire chapter, but what’s basically going on is that the ex husband showed his crusty face and doesn’t get to complete his threat because more people came about to witness him. Anybody who’s been there knows he’ll be back to finish it later. So now Main Character and the new boyfriend sit down, and both say “I have something I need to tell you.” Of course she lets him go first, because she’s desperate to find out what’s going on, fix it, and repair the relationship. But the thing he needs to say is essentially the end of their relationship. So of course she says nothing. This was a little frustrating for me, but I do remember being in a position like that. You don’t ask for anything from someone who’s just hurt you. You’re given the innate knowledge through years and years of experience that the person who just hurt you (no matter the pain) will NOT help you, and might even hurt you more. I get it. I understand. The frustration I feel is the frustration of my loved ones when my feelings don’t line up with reality. The boyfriend is a good man, and probably would have assured MC’s safety before completely leaving. But she feels she has to keep it tucked away. Another unspoken thing is, what if he thinks it’s just a call for attention, a ploy to get him to stay a little longer? What an awful thought. Better not say anything.

“There are other ways, Adrian. Lots of other options, and together, we can come up with some, but we can’t if you walk away from me like this. Don’t walk away from us. Adrian. Please.”

God, did I beg. I did a lot of begging. Maybe not to him, because what if he thought I was pathetic and actually left because of that? But this was said, slower, and with a lot more words, calmer, with a lot less desperation. I was so used to being The Calm One, The Adult, that I thought I just had to navigate through it. Nope. He just crumpled and gave up and refused to do anything except verbally lash himself, and at the very end, I wasn’t going to come to his rescue yet again.

“I’ve got to go, Ruth. I’ll try and call back when I get a chance.” Adrian hangs up, without even saying goodbye. It’s after midnight and Eric’s car is still parked outside.”

This part gave me such dread. Both things were so, so close together. But safety was floating away while danger just crept closer and closer. It was like that nightmare I had about a different boyfriend’s texts getting farther and farther apart, eventually not answering, right before mom entered the dream and did horrible things. *shudder* What a vile and despairing feeling. What a writer.

“Time has a way of dulling the pain and helping me to get over him. I’ve needed big doses of time.[...] Am I supposed to be here waiting for him just in case? That’s no fair. He moved on with his life, and despite all the drama, I’ve moved on with mine.”

So in this part, it’s a bit later and the boyfriend is back, and people are asking the main character to talk to him. She actually does better than I did in this regard, because she just downright refuses to give him the time of day beyond civility. I however kept letting this fucker back in and out like a revolving door (but the boyfriends in question aren’t really comparable, the reasons for leaving are WAY different.)

“I’m afraid to turn around. Afraid I still love him now as much as I did then. I don’t want to see Adrian. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I’ve worked too hard all these months to turn back. I can’t afford to do that to myself. I owe me more than that. I don’t owe him a damn thing.”

That horrible mix of hope and the need to stand your ground. My own reasons were far less involved in the realm of self-advocacy, I was just bitter and hurt and didn’t want to feel that weak ever again, but by god did I desperately want things to go back to ‘normal’, for things to be better, to have a relationship that I thought we could have if we’d just worked a little harder, did a little more, waiting long enough that we could meet more in person.

And now, for the extra spoilery bit because it’s literally the end of the book:

“Of course I’ll marry you,” I say with tears in my eyes.”

Fucking *EYEROLL*

I get it. I really do. I get that it’s kind of a romance story, I get that she’s doing this entirely for herself and is a part of her self development, but COME ON.

I wanted her to make the opposite decision. I wanted her to be stronger than I was. I wanted her to make him WORK for it, and STILL deny him, because goddamnit he left her, and left her in a dangerous place, (like my own did).

She even goes as far as moving into the goddamn mountains in colorado, in a cabin. That’s my fucking DREAM. To just, physically shun everything that’s ever hurt me, and to be by myself. Even now that I’m in a much better place with much healthier relationships, this is still something I want to do (but with more people involved now).

The shit that Adrian carter says is only slightly less weak than the shit that Eric says. “[I’m here] To fix what’s broken for both of us” “I’m human, baby. I made a choice and it didn’t work out” “I learned a valuable lesson” “It was hard, but I learned that a man needs to go with his gut instinct”

Just fuck off, Adrian Carter. Quit talking about yourself. He just fucking smiles and slithers his way right back in and UGH. And the thought that it would actually WORK between them afterwards just makes me bitter as fuck. Or rather, it makes me feel the bitterness that I already had in me.

Despite the recovery process being so abbreviated, the beats were so similar to my own that I began to look for a catharsis that wasn’t there. Because this story belongs to the writer, and not to me.

Now, fanfiction definitely belongs to me, however. I can certainly write a story about Ruth turning him away to the cold, and further building her own sense of self and maybe making friends with another hermit and discovering more about how she’s running away from her problems and yadda yadda, and THEN reintroduce the boyfriend, who’s actually trying harder this time.

But again, this story belongs to the writer, and not to me.

----------

Thanks for reading this clusterfuck, eventually I’ll get better at this.

Only 296 books to go!

#and on the eigth day she rested #j.d. mason #thelongestlibrary #book review #origin1 #wri1

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addictedforbooksquad · 5 years

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P I C K (S) O F T H E M O N T H: M A Y

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite

Passion on Park Avenue by Lauren Layne

Mistborn: The Alloy Era Series by Brandon Sanderson

Mistborn: Secret History by Brandon Sanderson

Marriage for One by Ella Maise

A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite

Genres: Historical Romance, LGBT, F/F romance

Synopsis:

As Lucy Muchelney watches her ex-lover’s sham of a wedding, she wishes herself anywhere else. It isn’t until she finds a letter from the Countess of Moth, looking for someone to translate a groundbreaking French astronomy text, that she knows where to go. Showing up at the Countess’ London home, she hoped to find a challenge, not a woman who takes her breath away. Catherine St Day looks forward to a quiet widowhood once her late husband’s scientific legacy is fulfilled. She expected to hand off the translation and wash her hands of the project—instead, she is intrigued by the young woman who turns up at her door, begging to be allowed to do the work, and she agrees to let Lucy stay. But as Catherine finds herself longing for Lucy, everything she believes about herself and her life is tested. While Lucy spends her days interpreting the complicated French text, she spends her nights falling in love with the alluring Catherine. But sabotage and old wounds threaten to sever the threads that bind them. Can Lucy and Catherine find the strength to stay together or are they doomed to be star-crossed lovers?

Why we love it:

a beautiful love story between two women

female friendships and women supporting women

characters who find out about Lucy and Catherine are not homophobic but rather supportive

focus on both romance AND personal journeys of the characters

sexism and misogyny are challenged, by both female and male characters (some of them at least)

beautiful, poetic passages

Trigger warnings: mentions of emotional abuse, sexism, misogyny

≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡

Passion on Park Avenue by Lauren Layne

Genres: Romance, Contemporary, New Adult

Synopsis:

For as long as she can remember, Bronx-born Naomi Powell has had one goal: to prove her worth among the Upper East Side elite—the same people for which her mom worked as a housekeeper. Now, as the strongminded, sassy CEO of one of the biggest jewelry empires in the country, Naomi finally has exactly what she wants—but it’s going to take more than just the right address to make Manhattan’s upper class stop treating her like an outsider. The worst offender is her new neighbor, Oliver Cunningham—the grown son of the very family Naomi’s mother used to work for. Oliver used to torment Naomi when they were children, and as a ridiculously attractive adult, he’s tormenting her in entirely different ways. Now they find themselves engaged in a battle-of-wills that will either consume or destroy them… Filled with charm and heart and plenty of sex and snark, this entertaining series will hook you from the very first page.

Why we love it:

ambitious millionaire female character whose story is basically about rags to riches

soft male character

female friendships and dynamics are amazing

cute love story

Lauren Layne’s style has improved so much and it’s time to start reading her books

Trigger warnings: n/a

Mistborn: The Alloy Era series by Brandon Sanderson

Genres: Fantasy, High Fantasy, Adult

Synopsis:

Three hundred years after the events of the Mistborn trilogy, Scadrial is now on the verge of modernity, with railroads to supplement the canals, electric lighting in the streets and the homes of the wealthy, and the first steel-framed skyscrapers racing for the clouds. Kelsier, Vin, Elend, Sazed, Spook, and the rest are now part of history—or religion. Yet even as science and technology are reaching new heights, the old magics of Allomancy and Feruchemy continue to play a role in this reborn world. Out in the frontier lands known as the Roughs, they are crucial tools for the brave men and women attempting to establish order and justice. One such is Waxillium Ladrian, a rare Twinborn who can Push on metals with his Allomancy and use Feruchemy to become lighter or heavier at will. After twenty years in the Roughs, Wax has been forced by family tragedy to return to the metropolis of Elendel. Now he must reluctantly put away his guns and assume the duties and dignity incumbent upon the head of a noble house. Or so he thinks, until he learns the hard way that the mansions and elegant tree-lined streets of the city can be even more dangerous than the dusty plains of the Roughs.

Why we love it:

amazing writing

plots and twists all around

we see familiar faces from the first trilogy *wink wink*

SO. MUCH. FUN.

western-sherlock-fantasy

most adorable character ever, that's on the spectrum

Trigger warnings: violence

Mistborn: Secret History by Brandon Sanderson

Genres: Fantasy, High Fantasy, Adult

Synopsis:

Mistborn: Secret History is a companion story to the original Mistborn trilogy. As such, it contains HUGE SPOILERS for the books Mistborn (The Final Empire), The Well of Ascension, and The Hero of Ages. It also contains very minor spoilers for the book The Bands of Mourning. Mistborn: Secret History builds upon the characterization, events, and worldbuilding of the original trilogy. Reading it without that background will be a confusing process at best. In short, this isn’t the place to start your journey into Mistborn. (Though if you have read the trilogy—but it has been a while—you should be just fine, so long as you remember the characters and the general plot of the books.) Saying anything more here risks revealing too much. Even knowledge of this story’s existence is, in a way, a spoiler. There’s always another secret.

Why we love it:

view on Mistborn Era 1 events from different perspective

reunions that will make you cry

we get SOME answers as well from Mistborn Era 1 and 2

Trigger warnings: violence

Marriage for One by Ella Maise

Genres: Romance, Contemporary, New Adult

Synopsis:

Jack and I, we did everything backward. The day he lured me into his office-which was also the first day we met-he proposed. You'd think a guy who looked like him-a bit cold maybe, but still striking and very unattainable-would only ask the love of his life to marry him, right? You'd think he must be madly in love. Nope. It was me he asked. A complete stranger who had never even heard of him. A stranger who had been dumped by her fiancé only weeks before. You'd think I'd laugh in his face, call him insane-and a few other names-then walk away as quickly as possible. Well…I did all those things except the walking away part. It took him only minutes to talk me into a business deal…erm, I mean marriage, and only days for us to officially tie the knot. Happiest day of my life. Magical. Pop the champagne… Not. It was the worst day. Jack Hawthorne was nothing like what I'd imagined for myself. I blamed him for my lapse in judgment. I blamed his eyes, the ocean blue eyes that looked straight into mine unapologetically, and that frown on his face I had no idea I would become so fascinated with in time. It wasn't long after he said I was the biggest mistake of his life that things started to change. No, he still didn't talk much, but anyone can string a few words together. His actions spoke the loudest to me. And day after day my heart started to get a mind of its own. One second he was no one. The next he became everything. One second he was unattainable. The next he seemed to be completely mine. One second I thought we were in love. The next it was still nothing but a lie. After all, I was Rose and he was Jack. We were doomed from the very beginning with those names. Did you expect anything else?

Why we love it:

soft and bubbly female character

broody male character

fake marriage trope

slowburn + cutest romance with a lil’ bit of angst

development is A+++

Trigger warnings: n/a

A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin

Genres: Fantasy, High Fantasy, Adult

Synopsis:

Long ago, in a time forgotten, a preternatural event threw the seasons out of balance. In a land where summers can last decades and winters a lifetime, trouble is brewing. The cold is returning, and in the frozen wastes to the north of Winterfell, sinister and supernatural forces are massing beyond the kingdom’s protective Wall. At the center of the conflict lie the Starks of Winterfell, a family as harsh and unyielding as the land they were born to. Sweeping from a land of brutal cold to a distant summertime kingdom of epicurean plenty, here is a tale of lords and ladies, soldiers and sorcerers, assassins and bastards, who come together in a time of grim omens. Here an enigmatic band of warriors bear swords of no human metal; a tribe of fierce wildlings carry men off into madness; a cruel young dragon prince barters his sister to win back his throne; and a determined woman undertakes the most treacherous of journeys. Amid plots and counterplots, tragedy and betrayal, victory and terror, the fate of the Starks, their allies, and their enemies hangs perilously in the balance, as each endeavors to win that deadliest of conflicts: the game of thrones.

Why we love it:

high fantasy political drama

well-written dialogue

if you’re already a fan of the TV show, the book gives you an even more detailed account of events with characters POVs while these key moments play out

amazing world building and backstory with so much thought and detail

GRRM has successfully achieved a whole new universe

full of backstabbing, bloody battles and political intrigue

multiple POVs

Trigger warnings: rape, sexual abuse of a minor, graphic violence, sexual violence, incest, misogyny

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