#they use the same sentences with similar phrasing. and *their* story ended in a quite bittersweet manner. does that say something about

[noaltbruh]

Hello, I've accidentally deleted an Oc x character request I got a few days ago and I'm literally feeling so stupid.

To the person who requested it, I hope you'll see it anyway.

Deja que te ayude

Another stand battle, another Jotaro struggling on the cold street, the exact place where the defeat of the enemy had taken place.

He brought an hand to his stomach, the smell of blood coming from fresh wounds was not something he would have gotten used to so easily, how surprising can life be at times. Two weeks ago you were just attending school as usual, and now you find yourself forced to travel around the world with some idiotic old men, a gamer, an overly hyped French guy whose hair is higher than the Eiffel tower, an actual sane person and...Well...Jolie.

The boy's ideal type was someone humble, refined, quiet and feminine.

...So basically, anyone but the girl he ended up sharing this adventure with. Most of the time she was loud, arrogant, cocky, a trouble-maker and incapable of focusing on a single thing even for a second, although he knew that the latter was something she couldn't help.

He would observe her interact and tease Joseph and Caesar, cause troubles with Polnareff, try to get Kakyoin to lose whole he was playing videogames...Basically being as annoying as humanly possible.

Yet, every time Jotaro approached her, something always felt...Different. More than once, he asked himself if the one he was interacting with was actually Jolie, and not some yellow temperance-like stand back to get their revenge.

He'd often flinch when she rested her head on his shoulder, he'd sit and watch as she took the tenth photo that day in the same exact thing, he'd notice her stutter trying to form a sentence sometimes when faced with his huge figure in front of his eyes.

This behavior was something he just...Didn't understand. He was an excellent fighter, a talented student (to most people's surprise) and an extremely clever and mature person for his age. But when it came to figuring others out...The way they acted, the way they felt, well...That was a different story.

Did he...Scare her? Surely, that would have been new, at least she was less invading than all the girls at school. Still, she was his companion, one of the fee people he could trust to stand by his side in the almost impossible mission that was saving her mother.

But Jotaro, being the lone wolf he's always been, always had a preference to face the enemies in his own, trying to get as less people as possible involved.

Of course, putting emphasis on "trying" was quite fundamental.

No matter how hard he tried, just when he thought he had managed to protect the others from the enemy finding out about them, there she was: Jolie, already in first line to fight along side th other.

In a situation like that, not much could be done. As he let out a sigh, follow by his usual annoyed catch phrase, it was just a matter of time before the weekly stand user would find themselves forced in a hospital for the next four months at least.

"Are...You okay?"

Jolie whispered with difficulty, a sharpening pain filling the upper part of her chest from a terrible wound that still kept on bleeding, staining the rest of the clothes even further.

The boy just grunted in response, slowly getting up and covering his eyes with the point of his hat.

"Treat that scar, it looks bad"

He murmured in his usual monotone and uninterested.

"Uh? Oh yeah, almost forgot about it, heh"

She answered, as her stand was already taking care of fixing the damage done. With all the bruises and similar sorts of pain they had had to deal with to far, it was an understatement to say that the creature has had been put under quite a lot of pressure, especially mixed with the girl's hamon abilities.

"How can you forget about something like that? Your entire fucking chest is bleeding"

Jolie took a look at the other, staining an eyebrow. He was the one telling her to worry about herself, completely ignoring the fact that his body was filled with bruises scattered in every possible point and place.

"You're the one talking"

She thought to herself, without actually pronouncing a word out loud, she didn't have the courage to talk back as she would usually do when she was around him. She only pushed her stand to do its work faster, bickering between the two was always prwsent during the aftermath of a battle.

"Do you want me to fix yourself too?"

She asked, once she had finished patching herself up.

Jotaro hesitated for a moment. He knew his conditions were not the best, but as always, accepting help from others was something he did not enjoy. Most of all, being cured would have meant that Jolie had to touch every single wound on himself, physical contact always made him nervous and uncomfortable.

His reply was plain, simple and direct, just like him.

"No"

When those words hut her, Jolie looked away, arms crossed, as she let out a "Mph" and signed reassigned.

"Why? It'll take just a few minutes, I'll be fast, I promise"

She took one step closer to the other, but he walked back.

"I don't care"

"...Alright, suit yourself"

She added and closed the conversation there. If there was one yeah the two of them shared, but that was incredibly obnoxious for both, was how incredibly stubborn they could become at times.

While Jolie didn't seem as hot headed as him, at first, her apparent decision to let him do as he wanted would have soon turned out to be just something temporary, just enough to keep him at bay and satisfied for the time being.

In fact, after that small interaction, they headed back go their hotel in complete silence. They were the type of people who didn't require talking as something necessary in order to enjoy someone's presence, although this time, the silence that surrounded them didn't exactly feeling as pleasant as it would most of the times.

The girl could notice that his breathing was heavier than how it should be, but didn't comment nor show any sort of reaction regarding it. All they had to do now was to report what had happened to the others and then, hopefully, getting some rest, before catching yet another train.

They were welcomed back by Joseph, who was in the middle of inspecting a map with Caesar. The two old men asked them where they had been, and after a brief conversation, the teens were free to leave and head to their rooms, a well-warned break waited for both of them.

Jotaro sad on his bed, not caring about the sheets slowly changing colors due to the red of his wounds. He was reading a book Kakyoin had given him some time ago, when his peace was interrupted by the weak sound of someone knocking on his door. He knew perfectly who it was.

"What is it, now?"

He said, not bothering to give the other a single glance, as she quietly laid next to him.

"What are you reading?"

He considered for a moment not answering her question, but he knew that it probably wouldn't have been enough to make her go away.

"A mystery novel, Kakyoin said it's worth reading"

"Ah...I didn't know you listened to other people's advices"

Jolie tried to contain her own laughter, such sassiness wasn't usually so obvious when she spoke to him.

"Surprise"

He rolled his eyes to the sky...Or rather, to the room's ceiling, if that counted.

The quietness from early re-emerged, only interrupted once in a while by the sound of the curtains in the room touching, moving following the rhythm of the spring breeze.

The girl truly did not know what to do to get his attention, it felt like interacting with a wall. A black, rigid one, where every brick fell into place.

Slowly, her hands started moving...Snatching the book away from him.

"OI, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, BITCH?"

"...Figured that if I did this, you would have at least looked at me"

She closed the novel and put in on the side of the bed, giving the other a small smile.

"Will you let me heal you now? You should seriously worry more about your body, how are you going to defeat DIP in such conditions?"

Jotaro looked down, unsure of how to answer.

"It'll pass, everything does"

"Well"

Her stand was already floating above her, only waiting for her user's command to interfere.

"With my help, it'll pass faster, doesn't that sound nice?"

"Urgh jeez, are we done yet? Can I do my job or you're just going to keep me waiting for long"

The embodiment of her own soul was calling her an idiot, way to go Jolie. She gave it a bad look, when she heard something: a faint laughter.

"Heh...I know you're an head in the clouds, but not even controlling your stand?"

The girl with dyed hair put an hand behind her head.

"Not my fault my own spirit doesn't like me"

"Technically, it is"

"WILL YOU QUIT IT ALREADY AND CURE HIM?!"

Before the light hearted argument could continue, the boy raised his head.

"Why are you so fixated on this? These aren't mortal wounds, you know?"

"Neither was mine"

She extended her arm in his direction, her expression softening a little.

"Please...deja que te ayude"

He didn't understand Spanish, but he knew how to speak Italian a bit thanks you his grandmother, making out the meaning of what she had said, or at least he hoped so.

He crossed his legs and turned into her direction, taking the jacket of his uniform off.

"...Do your thing, but be quick"

Jolie smiled.

"I will"

#jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure #...Part 3 #God this feels so weird #jjba part 3 #part 3 jjba #jojo part 3 #part 3 jojo #jojo stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders #jojo oc #jjba oc #jjba original character #jotaro x oc #jotaro x character #jotaro kujo

[akookminsupporter]

Just curious - am I the only one who doesn’t get the excitement that has always surrounded the lyric change of The Truth Untold? English is my first language and I clearly understand the difference between “and” & “but”, yet I cannot understand why people think this was so telling. The ending message is still “I still want you” - regardless of whether it is in addition to or opposite of the prior phrase. What am I missing?

Hi anon. I obviously can't speak for everyone and say why they or many think that way, I don't know if there is an explanation, theory or conclusion that has been accepted by everyone, but I can give you my opinion why that moment is important if it is ok with you.

In my opinion it is not only about the lyric change. I will try to explain this in parts.

For me it is about 3 things:

1. That last line was originally sung by Jimin alone, in those last 3 concerts Jimin and Jungkook decided to harmonize and sing it together. If you look at other performances where the guys sang that song you will notice that that part was sung by Jimin alone. He didn't harmonize with Jungkook or any other member. He always ended that song the same way. With a sad, melancholic and even regretful tone. But in those last 3 concerts in Seoul Jimin and Jungkook decided to harmonize together, using the line previously sung by Jungkook and not the one originally sung by Jimin.

2. The choreography, so to speak, changed. When the scenery of the song changed (before the vocal line was standing on a single panel? after a while the scenery changed and each member was standing on an individual panel. I don't know what other word to use) Jimin usually didn't look towards Jungkook, he didn't turn his back completely, but he didn't look at him. During those three days Jimin while singing that song turned his back to Jungkook during the whole song and only until the end, in that last line, Jimin or Jimin and Jungkook turned their body towards each other and sang that last part together. The way they did it was a bit dramatic and unexpected so it gave a shocking touch to the moment. 

3. The lyrics of the song. There is a theory that the song was inspired by (or based on) the legend of 'Smeraldo'. This story is quite sad and if you compare it with the lyrics you can see the similarities. 

Ultimately the song is about the fear of showing your true self, your face so to speak. It's about the fear of being rejected if you show who you really are. It's about pretending, hiding, but at the same time wishing not to; but in the end letting fear win and losing something or someone because of it. In the end there is only regret, self-recriminations and What if. 

I think you can see why it is easy to relate the song to Jimin and Jungkook if you are one of those who also believe that there is a romantic relationship between them.

By singing that last part of the song it's like they are changing the ending of the story. In the other performances the song was a monologue that ended with the protagonist telling himself or the person he lost that despite his fear, despite the fact that it couldn't be, he still wanted him/her/them. And would continue to do so. That he understood that even though he didn't deserve that person for everything he said, he still loved her/him/them. 

It’s like saying “I know I don't deserve you but I want you/love you”.

So by singing the last part together, but using the but instead of the and, sounded more like a challenge and even a promise. That no matter what, no matter what decisions they make or what consequences may arise, they will still want/love each other. If they decide to keep hiding, they will still want/love each other. And if they decide to take a risk and also show their true face, they will still love each other. In that last sentence the song or story stopped being a monologue.

Ending the song with "but I still want you" gives contrast to everything they said before.

The "and I still want you" is more of a confession, but the "but I still want you" sung by both of them, is a promise. 

Anon I don't know if all of the above makes sense.  I don't know if the above answers your question. I don't know if the above can be the truth.

Maybe Jimin and Jungkook just decided to sing that part together because they sound good together, their harmony is beautiful and it goes very well in that song. It always did. 

Maybe we are simply making a mountain out of a molehill.

If anyone has a better explanation, let us know.

#anon #ask #JKJM #the truth untold

[rumblelibrary]

The Diary of Doctor Laszlo Kreizler

Chapter 1

Synopsis: Alienist’s notes are private, sometimes gruesome, secrets of others and of himself.Those pages belongs to secrecy and decadence, have a glimpse to this world made of drafts, notes, accidents and reflections. Or maybe it is you the only person that should ever reach for it.

While you read this imagine Laszlo mostly at the end of his day, scraping the ideas and the thoughts, adjusting previous notes with additions, closing the day behind himself with a couple of sentences while sitting in his evening robe, a good glass of whiskey and his glasses bridged almost at the tip of his nose. Or maybe imagine yourself, you sneaky thing, reach for it from a far shelf.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: listen, this is the set of ideas and confessions of a man living in the 1890’s. Most of them will be outdated, rough, even deprecating in some analysis of the roles of men, women and social status, religion, etc.So be prepared, my point is to make Laszlo reflect upon those topics, but to be as faithful as I can to his time. Mention of death, mutilation, self harm and a minor depiction of a fight. Psychologically troubled young children ahead! Author’s note: I am a nerd for a good Victorian novel and a sexy Alienist.I have always been charmed by Laszlo’s mind and inner conflicts. So I took the chance and tried to have a run into that rollercoaster.  The story is placed between season 1 and season 2.

Diary belonging to Dr. Laszlo Kreizler.  This is a professional book of annotations over medical treatments of an alienist toward his patients. Do not disclose and send it back to the address if found: Kreizler’s Institute, xxxxxx, New York City (NY) L.K.

Samuel Griswold Goodrich, Illustrated Natural History of the Animal Kingdom (c1859). Contributed for digitization by University Library, University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign.

Schiller in his “Die Weltweisen” wrote: So long as philosophy keeps together the structure of the Universe so long does it maintain the world’s machinery by hunger and love. From the philosopher point of view sexual life takes a subordinate position in human’s life, from recent studies pushed by European philosophers, everything is about sexuality and its development. I like to think of the experience of being an alienist as the process of Queen Penelope that, while waiting for her husband Ulysses return, undoes her craftwork every night. I undo the fabulous constructs of people’s beliefs to go back to the rough sketch that stands at the beginning of their loss, their complex, their pain. Maybe that’s why working with children is so motivating and fascinating. They can be saved and yet, I am well aware, some of those sketches already traced in their young lives equal to scars that not even the most advanced theories could cure. But I can sooth them. I can prevent them the torment, the anguish, the recollection at night of those monsters. I feel like a poet would be a better alienist than a philosopher, but I have got no poetry nor philosophy in my veins, but the cold experience of the razor blade judgment of Life itself.

Today I observed a fight among the children at the Institute. Age range between 10 and 12. Boys. The fight was over the possession of a side of the playground, the territory of a pack  of youngsters formed under the name of Steven. Peculiar lad, coming from a military background finds comfort in replicating the schemes he lived in his family. He takes the role of the Father/Captain of the team and subjects children that come from a similar background story, but do not posses his same attitude to the command. All quiet on the front, until the space he declared is own spot got affected by the presence of others.  Intruders. I knowingly let the events unfold to see how Steven would react to his challenged authority. His reaction was, at first, worded, a sketch, a stage-play of an action he witnessed over and over, and he knew the part so well that some of the contending kids lowered their stance against him. Among considering to mildly intervene into this pyramid scheme of authority, another boy, Jan, calls himself on the role of the educator and hero of the masses and proceeds to unfold a wild and well assessed punch on the newly declared dictator face. Balance is established again. No need for me to arbitrate, once more the laws of nature seem to apply to children as in a state of nature.

Meet John Moore over lunch. His job at the newspaper is picking up, he is charmed by the spirits and the wits that he finds in his shared office with all the other writers. He mentions many, goes on and on over qualities and troubles, gossips and tendencies, and even little scandals here and there. To be aware of all those details gives me no interest, but to see a dear friend so invested clearly gives me something to pick up. To consider also the amount of details and the way he describes this or that member of the journal, I can do a small exercise of analysis. It is almost too easy because John is painfully genuine, even some of the kids at the institute would beat him hands down in a battle of lies. The more he likes somebody, the more he goes on about all the details and the characteristics, often letting aside the physical appearance. When he doesn’t like somebody he has a couple of adjectives for the wits and around four or five for the physical aspects that usually indulge on some repulsive idiosyncrasies.  John is a man that painfully fits in the storyline of The Picture of Dorian Gray: to him physical beauty is spiritual beauty and, of course, the other way around. This part of him surely intrigues me, makes me want to tease more from him. But, as a friend, it concerns me as John is way too prone to purposelessly decide that somebody with good eyes is also a good human being, which is a very romantic and admirably naive way of judging matters. I noticed some names that keep repeating in his narration. I dread that it is synonymous of a soon encounter from my side with the objects of his admiration. Fetiches, I dare to say, that I will have to annihilate before they sediment into his mind, perpetuating a narration that soon sees John being mislead by others.

Reserved: Tickets for the Eroica, Symphony n. 3 by Ludwig van Beethoven. Thursday evening.

Note on the show: the first movement lacked the pathos needed to begin with, I am not sure that the guest orchestra really managed to portray the wider emotional ground needed to withstand the whole representation. As the evening progressed there were some outstanding performances by the cellists. Still not approving the choice of reprising the early quick finale movement against the lengthy set of variations and fugue that we are used to in presence of the Eroica. Underwhelming the performance of the horn and oboe, vital in the comprehension of the genius of Beethoven. 

Niki is a new addition of the Institute, quite old for the standards. He is already 16, he will leave when summer ends to some expensive college his family meant him to stay. His parents expect me to make him “normal” in the time we are allowed together.  He is Austrian and I let him act it out like I don’t understand German for the first week of hist stay until today. I believe I hit his pride, which is good, in the moment I answered back to one of his sneaky comments. Now he knows. He is not safe from me, he doesn’t like it. The young man has a tendency to danger, risky tasks and edgy situations. In his mother’s own words “Niki is not afraid of anything”. The phrase didn’t raise any excitement in the father, rather some sort of painful acceptance that is role as the alpha male of the house is probably not only being challenged, but  already diminished, if not abolished. I have taken in consideration that Niki will break himself a bone or two in the process of the therapy, probably out of the spite of boredom or rebellion. It took him less than few days to turn himself into an outcast among the outcasts, which only drives me closer to analyse the complexity of his narcissistic wall of self defence. I gave him a physical challenge to lift a certain weight, he is a pretty skinny one, he didn’t like the challenge, but I am sure he will take it. He is a brainy guy, he hates to be questioned on unfamiliar ground. He won’t sleep at night thinking about it.  A challenge, in this first phase, can only bring me closer to the ease of his pains. To continue the observation.

It is a sad privilege of medicine, in particular the one I practice, to be able to witness the weaknesses of the human nature and the reverse side of life. Nevertheless, I oblige this same privilege of the study as life moves into shades of darkness. To be aware of it gives more solace to my soul than to be victim of patiently waiting for the inevitable unfolding of the events. To be able to understand more about psychology would bring more comfort and elevation to any human being, the times might not be there yet, but eventually something will move into the direction of a more wholesome approach.

Dinner meeting with Sara Howard, at the restaurant Jardin Des Cygnes, 7 pm sharp.  Do not expect to reach the dessert. Do not know if John will be participating due to undeniable tension among the two and the fatal despise of John over French cuisine.

The case that Sara unfolded tonight to my ears feels more and more like pulled out from some gothic book or from the mind of a Roman historian that needed to justify the godly origins of an Emperor. One killing, apparently random, a very constructed iconography over the body. Signs and insults, shapes and drawings. Is this a work of art? Does the killer wants his victim to be his Mona Lisa? His David? I am charmed and destabilised. If this was a murder like any other, then why to spend so much time into it? Based on the description the act of killing itself was quick: a sharp cut over the throat, almost like not wanting to ruin too much the surface to use as base for, what? I keep rerunning those symbols over and over as Sara described them to me, my mind is flooded with the designs of greek philosophers that needed to explain themselves why the sky is above our head and never collapses on us. Hilarious how, no matter the science advancement, in the mind of many the sky stands inevitably overt their shoulders, suffocates them, brings them to a death of the soul and not of the body. Is all this graphic charade indeed only a form to scream for attention?  To stress the eyes of an unaware viewer? It seems ridiculously elaborate, a scream for attention would be quick, it would be like guided by instinct, not reasoning, craftwork. Any man with a knife can paint in blood red the walls of a room and that’s asking for attention. That is the primal howl: look at me! I am here! But this one.  I don’t know yet.

Spent the early morning reading anew my copy of The Metamorphosis by Ovid. Didn’t touch it in a long time and I got bedazzled by the world of terrible sensuality, anger and selfishness of those gods and mortals. I think back at all the deviances and weaknesses of human kind and I try to relate it to all of those humanoid figures. Niki would be a minotaur, the lonesome son left in the labyrinth and his strive for success is his bull’s head. Or maybe a centaur, because of his wits and strategic thinking. I might keep up the process, maybe this is the way to understand my patients better, to understand the killer better. Must remember not to romanticise it. Greek gods were probably the first form of self indulging of a society that needed gods to be forgiving and allowing favours and punishments, but only in exchange of sacrifices. But the sacrifice never comes from the God’s will, but from the will of the man that perpetuates the act of killing. To sacrifice someone or something is the sadistic response to a lack of love deeply inherited in human mind that becomes neurotic. Is the killer giving the God of his own neurosis a body to feast upon? 

I talked with Jan this morning. The young boy is about 10, but he acts like a full grown adult. I could easily asses that’s the reason why he could challenge Steven in that fight. Two children mimicking adults situations they know too well. Jan is son of an industrial man, but he is also son of the dialectics of the industrial revolution. He sounds like he swallowed some of those books about working class rights and communism, probably pushed by a resentful surrounding (mother?uncle? the midwife?) over the social role of his father. As much as incredibly smart and lectured, Jan lost most of his early occasions in life by spending a considerable amount of time using his fists. The anger ever present in the young boy always surprises me, he seems to be holding a power, a strength of a full grown man in those tiny arms. Nevertheless, he is already the tallest of the group. He is surely an idealist, which makes him also tragically fragile. His strength mixed with his heart of gold can make him the best of the heroes or the worst of the villains. He apologised for the fight, he specified how he didn’t like the sound of Steven’s voice, more than the sound, the level of pitch.  I can’t stand somebody shouting orders, I just don’t listen anymore. He is so mature even about his own feelings, almost a gentleman in his chivalry toward the weaker children, honest with his open heart and resentful against any form of injustice.  I am not spared by his ways, he would come at me whenever he feels like I was being partial over some of the kids, his sense of justice blinds him and transform a perfectly balanced boy into a ranging animal.

Ordered book, to be delivered around tomorrow evening: Introduction à la méthode de Léonard de Vinci by Paul Valéry. Suddenly feeling myself as a gross ignorant in art themes. I always regarded myself aware of the artistic personalities and tendencies of present and past, but this new amount of perceptions over the human figure and the human body leads me to document myself more. I could ask John for advice, but he wouldn’t take things at matter that seriously. I can almost hear him say how I can make gruesome a pleasant topic such as art. I should probably wait to see the body to push any further aesthetic study, but I find myself not being able to stop. I reckon, I can allow myself a vice or two.

Today I saw the body of the killed man, courtesy of the Isaacson's. To be fair, I had underestimated it. In Sara’s descriptions, probably due to her more analytic mind, all the charm of the representation got lost in favour of a less cryptic and reasonable understanding of the act. Sara got what some alienists will call a masculine mind, which I don’t perfectly agree on. If I apply that same approach John would be a very feminine mind, all wrapped up in romanticising even the ugliest. I guess that dividing the world in “fragile and gentle” and “strong and powerful” is just easier to explain the fluctuation of something that doesn’t need a real name or a category like human inclinations on thoughts.  I got a feverish sense of patience by looking at the body. Each symbol traced with sapient slowness, dense of the time that the killer spent with the body. That is a work of hours, he had time and meaning. He had resources and was able to spend not less than the time he needed to reach, a vision? An ideal? A message? Is it the message meant to be understood? Am I supposed to unravel it or it is maybe just the way the killer communicates within himself? And if I do decifrate the code, will that bring me closer to him? Or to his next victim?

Reminder: ask John to replicate all the symbols on the bodies in the correct measure and order. It might be needed some hard convincing. Addition: scheduled meeting, his house, 3 pm.

It wasn’t a day like any other when I met you. Or maybe it was, and that’s why I got so struck by it and now I am here playing it over and over through what my memory clung on so desperately. In my own experience, life was often similar to swimming in a lake. Those rich, dense lakes in the north of (illegible cancelled word) were my father used to bring us during summer. I still feel the pull, the draw down toward the abyss. It ashamed me, in a way, the fear that such a simple feeling aroused in my young mind, unaware nevertheless, that such a feeling would follow me through all my existence. It was a prophecy and, like most of the prophecies, was a riddle. I cradle in my heart the charm of those days, the mindless happiness. The foolish feeling of freedom. Little I knew that freedom would be taken away from me that soon, that the body that used to navigate me over the dense waters, helping me to fight the haul toward the unknown, would become my own cage. That day. Today. The day where I met you, the day I was afloat.  The child gasping for air felt the wrench become a gentle push and now he is floating on his back over the scary waters of reality and malice. It gave me relief and it gave me terror, because since that very moment I knew that I would never be able to move on from the sight of you. From the feeling of your eyes lingering on me. From the smile you so easily shone upon me. From the whiff of imported perfume that hit me when you turned on side exploding that swan like neck. And nothing, not even my stern look, could dim that wave of hope that your sole presence washed over me. The abyss roars, calls me to a home of damnation and terror and curses my name and yet you repeated that hell-bound name of mine after me and I felt safe.

John told me so much about you, it feels like I have always known you.

The rope is gone from my neck, the guillotine won’t fall on me, I am spared, I am free.

I have read your latest article, I am thrilled to help with the case.

I am in disbelief.

Your voice.

Dr. Kreizler

How dare you? How dare you to come into my life, to appear, like a vision, mystical, in a way I despised at University when all those theology students talked about the divine. In this very moment I can’t recollect much of what you said, something about the case, about going with John at the obituary. It feels confusing, I feel overstimulated, my memory fails me, I am not sure anymore. I write these few lines and it is passed the hour of the witches and I wish, I demand, to never see you again, because life should never grant hope to a condemned man. 

#dr laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler x reader #the alienist fanfic #victorian age #v writes #the diary of doctor laszlo kreizler

[chudleycanonficfest]

Took Far Longer Than It Should've

Day 9, Story #1 is by CandyMan91

Title: Took Far Longer Than It Should've Author: CandyMan91 Pairing: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley Prompt: Soulmate AU Rating: General Audiences

A calm and quiet morning Ron Weasley woke up like it was any other day, except it wasn’t any other day, it was his birthday. Excitedly, he walked down the stairs in his too-short pyjamas that once belonged to his brother Charlie and settled down at the dinner table. 

His mother had made him his favorite, pancakes with a side of bacon and pumpkin juice. As they sang happy birthday Ron suddenly felt a slight warm sensation on his left wrist, he dismissed it as nervousness or perhaps hunger. As he reached for the syrup the left sleeve of his pyjama shirt rolled up.

“What’s that?” asked Ginny sitting on the chair on the left of Ron.

“What’s what?” asked Ron as he poured the syrup over his pancakes.

“That mark on your wrist,” Ron turned his wrist over and indeed there was a stranger mark on his wrist. It looked to be a dog similar to a Crup, except it was missing its forked tail, a Jack Russel terrier if Ron was correct. There used to be one at Uncle Bilius’s place back when he was alive. 

However, there was also a different mark, unlike the other which was a dark maroon. This one looked like a faint periwinkle blue. It was also not a dog, but instead an otter. It looked as if the dog was chasing the otter, but not like a hunter chasing its prey, but like a playmate.

This conversation was brought to their mother’s attention and as she settled her eyes on Ron’s stranger mark she gasped. 

“Arthur!” she said in a loud voice. Ron’s father’s eyes shot up from his copy of the Daily Prophet, and as he saw the random mark on Ron’s wrist, his eyes widened beyond what Ron thought was possible. He looked at his wife as if to ask what to do, before he cleared his throat and settled down the newspaper.

“Listen son,” said his father. “There are special people in the magical world, more so in certain ways than if I may say powerful wizards like Albus Dumbledore.” Ron nodded, not getting his father’s explanation. “When these people turn 10 years of age, something weird occurs to them. They like you get marks.”

Ron’s eyes nearly bulged out of their skull, was his father serious? Was he really more special than the most powerful wizard since Merlin?

“They are known as soulmates,” said his father. “They are people who are destined to belong to one another. That mark you have on your wrist is or will appear on your soulmate at 10 years of age.” 

So that was it. He had the same mark as another person, and according to his father that person and he were destined to be together. Ron could see by his parents’ faces that although it seemed like good news, they weren’t necessarily good ones.

“But,” said his mother. “You see Ronnie, some people are quite jealous or confused about this. When it’s time for you to grow up and get a girlfriend or a boyfriend, they won’t necessarily be your soulmate. And as such they won’t even bother staying with you, because to them someone with a soulmate is as good as stolen.”

Ron gulped, was that what made him so special? A sort of brand that turned him into some sort of freak?

“If you want to we can hide it of course,” said his mother hurriedly as he saw his face fall at the news. Ron couldn’t have nodded faster. Her mother went to her room and returned with Bill's old leather wristband. As she wrapped it around his mark he couldn’t help but ask.

“How will I know when I meet them?” 

His mother gave him a warm encouraging smile. “You just will.”

On a simple house in Hampstead Hermione Granger couldn’t believe it. It was her birthday, not only on a Saturday giving her free time to read any book she liked and avoid her teasing and mocking classmates, but a witch had just turned into a cat in front of her. She couldn’t believe it, she was a witch, that’s why she could never fit in. She was special, and she was going to a place with special people like her.

It was her father who had brought up the thing as they had decided to dub it. 

“Is that why Hermione has that peculiar mark on her wrist?” Professor McGonagall, if Hermione was correct, looked strangely at her father. Her mother put her hand on Hermione’s back, who felt her cheeks go pink at the attention. She removed the ribbon she used to hide the thing.

Professor McGonagall’s eyes widened as they saw a periwinkle blue otter being playfully chased by a Jack Russel terrier, unlike the otter the dog was a faint dark red or maroon.

“Oh my,” escaped from her mouth, before she realized it.

“Oh my?” repeated Hermione’s mother.

Professor McGonagall proceeded to explain everything she could about Soulmates, how they worked, their view in the wizarding world, as she continued to speak fear began to set in Hermione. Of course it wouldn't be that simple, as she asked what they could do the old witch suggested hiding the mark until she was older. It looked like Hermione would have to wear her red ribbon for a while longer.

Ron Weasley was talking to Harry Potter and not only that, but it seemed that he liked him as much as Ron was beginning to like the legendary boy. As he brandished his wand about to show his new friend a spell that hopefully turned his old grey rat yellow he was interrupted by the arrival of a girl.

She had bushy brown hair, a button nose, along with buck teeth, but she was still pretty. She has asked the same question as the other boy that had come through moments ago, as their eyes met Ron felt a tug in his stomach and he had to gulp and look away when he thought he was about to blush under her gaze. He missed as she too settled her gaze away from him.

He cleared his throat and hoped Fred and George hadn’t tricked him.

“Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.” he said, and nothing happened. He felt incredibly embarrassed and the pretty girl wasn’t making it any easier.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” said the girl. “Well, it’s not very good is it?” And Ron stopped listening after she started rambling on. Maybe looks were deceiving as his mother said, as the pretty witch looked to be everything but sociable. “–I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?” 

“I’m Ron Weasley”

She didn’t know what she had done wrong, she was trying to help him. Perhaps, she had been a tad bossy or maybe she could have phrased it a bit better, but was she really as annoying in the Wizarding World as she was in the Muggle one. Perhaps, her classmates hadn’t been wrong about her.

And she wondered just why Ron’s words had hurt her more than any other. It had hurt enough for her to break down and go to the girl’s bathroom and miss not only her classes, but the Hallowe’en Feast as well.

As Hermione got out of the bathroom stall she was faced with horror as a troll was right in front of her, its foul smell filling the bathroom. She screamed, and then the door banged open. Had the teachers come for her? But, she only heard a slight familiar voice… and Ron’s voice.

As the troll’s club fell down on its small head and the three went back to the Gryffindor Tower they all thanked each other and went to bed. Why hadn’t she recognized Harry’s voice, but Ron’s voice was something like the voice of an old friend? The boy barely tolerated her, and he made no attempt at hiding it.

As she woke up the next morning she joined Harry and Ron on their way to breakfast. Ron went to talk to his brothers about something she hadn’t heard clearly leaving her alone with Harry.

“Thank you,” she said. “Again, for saving me… If you hadn’t got there in time…” she didn’t finish her sentence as a shiver ran down her spine at the memory of the beast.

“You should thank Ron,” said Harry to Hermione’s surprise. Her expression must have told Harry something because the next moment he was explaining himself. “I reminded him that you were still in the bathroom, and you didn’t know.” The green-eyed boy looked at the back of his ginger best friend. “Never saw anyone run that fast.” 

Hermione too looked at the back of Ron, but instead of admiration as Harry had shown her cheeks went pink.

They were at a DA meeting, she looked as beautiful as ever of course. They were practicing their Patronus charm, Ron was having a hard time making it Corporeal, for the time being he could only get a wisp of smoke. He tried focusing on his happiest memories, but somehow most of them ended up with Hermione’s face.

But, that would only remind him of the truth, that he had a soulmate somewhere in the world, that destiny had set to screw him up with a bird or a bloke somewhere in the world, that no matter how much he wanted to he could never have what he so wanted, but he couldn’t control himself. He looked at her wild set of brown curls, her beautiful plump lips, her button nose and her beautiful brown eyes. To hell with his soulmate, if he had to carve the mark out of his skin with a knife he would bloody do so if it meant having Hermione.

Suddenly, there was applause and cheering in the room. Ron turned his head and his eyes just couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Hermione had successfully conjured her Patronus, but that wasn’t what shocked Ron, her patronus was an otter. She looked up at him, and seeing him had made her blush as she turned her gaze away from him.

An unrelenting barrage of happiness coursed through him and with the knowledge that Hermione Granger of all people was his soulmate he conjured his own Patronus.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he casted and a Jack Russell Terrier shot out of his wand and ran around the Room of Requirement, there was another round of applause which was now directed to him. It ran around the room and started chasing around Hermione’s otter, it playfully ran behind the other Patronus and the otter started swimming in the air as Ron’s terrier happily barked at it.

Ron set his eyes back to Hermione who looked as shocked as he had felt moments before, Ron gulped and unwrapped his old leather wristband that he had always been careful to use as a way to cover his mark. The wristband fell to the floor and his mark was available to everyone in the room, with all his Gryffindor courage he walked across the room towards her and showed her his wrist.

The otter which had been a faint periwinkle blue seemed to shine as it was no longer translucent. Hermione gasped as he looked from his wrist back at his eyes. She unlaced that red ribbon she always wore in her right wrist and the same mark appeared. They looked back at each other, and something shunned bright in their eyes, Ron couldn’t take it anymore and he put his lips to hers. He could sense her momentary surprise, before he felt her arms wrapped around his neck.

The gasps, the cheers, everything seemed to pass over their heads. As they detached the look that they had for each other told Ron something.

It Took Far Longer Than It Should've.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #romione #ron x hermione

[maskeddevera]

Laura and Travis are definitely in it for the long haul/slow burn with the Jester and Fjord relationship. I truly think that they are both ready and willing to set up scenarios for further angst and screwball comedy misunderstandings, but story circumstances outside of their control just keep happening and then they roll along with it to be true to their characters, and then that unintentionally accelerates the timing of the romance progression.

First we have Fjord, hesitant to move forward because he wants to clean up his past and tie a bow on that. He all but said to Jester that he wanted to deal with his past before moving on. That cemented the ongoing mutual pining thing that they had going in which neither of them was quite sure how the other person felt. Then some of Jester’s life got sucked out of her, and all those plans went out the window. I’m firmly of the opinion that everything that happened in the tower just kind of snowballed. Fjord went to check on her and ask her to be careful, and that lead to him confessing that he cared about her, and that lead to the kiss...none of that situation was part of Fjord’s long-term plan, which was half of the reason of his panic. (The other half was not knowing how she felt.)

Then we have the next day. I think one loose thread that is “out there” after the kiss is that they didn’t really discuss their feelings or give themselves a label. The conversation before the kiss was more of the same way that they have always expressed care for each other. Looking after each other. A team. Fjord told her that he cared about her, and Jester heard it in the way that he meant it, but he didn’t say the word “love” or “boyfriend” or “dating.” Jester didn’t say anything back to him after the kiss other than smiling giddily and saying kissing is a lot more fun when you’re not dying. There was a lot left unsaid. The next night when they cuddled on watch, you could see Travis/Fjord tense up and wonder if they were going to have a serious follow up talk...but Jester just made a card for Caduceus and shared with him what she was thinking. It was reassuring--it wasn’t weird. Their friendship remains on the same solid foundation.

Next we have the watch talks with Beau and Yasha. From those conversations we find out that Fjord isn’t sure how Jester feels. I mean, he thinks that she seemed happy...but he’s unsure how she feels about him. Jester hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary for her when she told him to be safe. With Jester, she discusses her feelings a bit with Yasha, but most importantly Laura sets up another obstacle--Jester doesn’t plan on making out with Fjord with Lucien right there watching them. This reveal sets up another possible source of angst--if Fjord is unsure, and Jester is waiting for better atmosphere, that could make it so that Fjord would think that maybe his feelings aren’t returned. And if he thought his feelings weren’t returned, he might back off, and then Jester might worry that she made a bigger thing of the kiss than Fjord meant it to be...et cetera, I could just see the route that this set up could have gone. (Edit to add: I almost forgot Travis setting up the possible “I should dial it back” when Beau suggests he was acting weird which could also contribute to possible future misunderstandings.)

And yet...this last episode Jester goes to Fjord in battle after he is hurt and heals him. Healing is not her favorite use of her high level spells--Fjord knows this-- and she even says “only for you, Fjord” as she casts it. I don’t really think that Fjord said out loud “she loves me,” but it’s worth noting that Travis didn’t say “she loves me” in his own voice...that was a realization by Fjord. Jester shows him how she feels for him by her actions. He might still have some worries, but the combination of her healing him with a public declaration that it is only for him, even for Fjord it must be fairly clear. So yes, he goes to her afterwards to thank her (and kiss her again to make all the snow art canon because let’s be honest he’s probably been looking for any excuse to kiss her again.) It’s also reminiscent of the “thanks, Jessie” cheek kiss. It’s a natural progression.

So now Jester is flustered. She basically told Yasha she was nervous about public displays of affection, and Fjord just went up and kissed her in front of Lucien and everybody. On the other hand, she’s clearly happy with his reaction, flirting back. She says to him “Anything for my Fjord”...which is cute, but also...she doesn’t know what else to say? If you think about this phrase, it’s like she started to say...”Anything for my boyfriend” or something similar and then realized that they haven’t had that discussion. So she substitutes his name into the sentence instead, which is oddly even cuter and more honest. I also just love that she plays a prank on Veth, claiming that this kiss that Veth sees is their first kiss ever. It’s so perfectly Jester. Yet at the end of that conversation, when Veth asks if Jester still has feelings for him, you can see from Jester’s face...yes, absolutely. And Veth is pleased.

So I definitely think one potential source of some angst is that there might be some nervousness on both of their parts until they have some future conversations. I do think that Fjord is feeling more confident based on Jester’s actions, though. Then there is always the potion for future screwball comedy scenarios, which could go very wrong, but I don’t feel like Jester has any plans to use it.

#Critical Role #Critical Role: Campaign 2 #Fjorester #long post #Jester Lavorre #Fjord #storytelling #my musings #Fjorjester #The Emerald and the Sapphire #love

[searedwood]

30 Day Gay Journal Prompts

This is specifically designed for Pride Month and self celebration, but this can be for literally any other use. Except hate. No hate allowed.

Day 1- Write your preferred name(s), pronouns, nice nouns (nouns you like to be referred to as), and bad nouns (nouns you don't like to be referred to as).

Day 2- Record your triggers, from really bad to not as bad to getting over it. Add any specifications or notes if you feel like you need them. This is so you can identify what makes you uncomfortable or panicked, which will help you be able to identify and avoid a situation in which you may feel threatened, uncomfortable, or panicked.

Day 3- Make a list of signs that you are having a panic attack. This will help you be able to communicate to close friends or family members what may happen in an event you become panicked. This will also help you identify when you're having a panic attack, which will help you be able to calm down. Additionally, record some ways that will help stop the panic attack. For me, some ways of calming down are to go outside, my stuffie, breathing and grounding exercises, comfort music, and puns or jokes.

Day 4- Take some time and think about what makes you happy and relaxed. Write down your comfort music, comfort videos, and comfort characters. If you have a comfort game or movie, include that as well. This is to help you identify a source of calm, relaxation, and happiness that you can easily fall back on if you are uncomfortable or scared.

Day 5- Do some research on LGBTQIA+ labels, flags, and symbols. Write down your gender identity and what it means for you. Write down your sexual and romantic orientations as well, and what they mean for you. Additionally, draw little Pride Flags and symbols beside each label. I drew the genderfaunet flag on the inside cover of my journal, along with corresponding flowers that represent what I see in my identity, as well as what I hope to integrate into myself (Snowdrop - rebirth, Chrysanthemum - truth, Rose leaves - hope, Lilacs - growth/progress, Yarrow - healing, and Narcissus - self love)

Day 6- Write down the titles of your favorite LGBTQIA+ books, movies, TV shows, and games, or titles you want to see/read/play. Do a little digging and find out what titles sound interesting. Supporting LGBTQIA+ creators is a wonderful way to celebrate Pride.

Day 7- Journaling doesn't have to be just writing. Try drawing some LGBTQIA+ inspired art, whether it's just a few doodles, a flag or two, or a beautiful painting. Dedicate this entry to expressing yourself and your identity in a way without words.

Day 8- Write gay poetry. You may not think yourself talented or particularly good at writing poems, but that doesn't mean you should keep yourself from doing it, even for a day. Poetry is a wonderful way to bend language to your will and express yourself in a way that only you have to understand. Write a poem expressing your experience in the LGBTQIA+ community, or a poem detailing your first gay crush. Whatever you feel on your heart today, put it into beautifully unique words.

Day 9- Write about the moment you realized you weren't straight or binary. Alternatively, write about the moment you learned what the LGBTQIA+ community was. Describe your feelings and thoughts in the moment, and reflect over how they have changed and evolved over time.

Day 10- Take a moment and think about where you would be if LGBTQIA+ rights have existed all along, without the need for reform laws or protests. Write down who you think you would be, how you would live, and how easy it would be to do things you can't right now. At the same time, think about the disadvantages. Consider the lack of a fight for freedom and how that may influence your opinion or thoughts.

Day 11- Write a letter to your younger self. Tell your younger self about who you are and who you've become. Give them words of encouragement about the journey ahead. Remind your younger self that no matter what happens, you turn out to be a wonderful and beautiful person.

Day 12- Write a letter to your older self. Detail your present experience as a member/ally of the LGBTQIA+ community. Present your ideas about where the community will be moving forward and how much progress society as a whole will make. Ask yourself some questions, like "How do you celebrate your identity?" Later in the future, you can come back to this letter and respond.

Day 13- Learn some phrases or words of Polari. Polari is a critically endangered language invented by young gay men living in Britain. It was also used by circus men and theatre kids. Few LGBTQIA+ people now know of the language, so there's no better time to try to revive it.

Day 14- Do some research on Pride history. Record interesting or important events that marked the history of the LGBTQIA+ community. What happened at the first Pride Parade? Who was the first advocate for gay and lesbian marriage? What was the LGBTQIA+ community like before it was acceptable to be openly queer?

Day 15- Write a letter to those that are anti-LGBTQIA+. Explain why queer rights are humans rights. Tell them that love is love. Or, if you're feeling like letting loose that anger, just tell them off. This letter is for your eyes only, so don't be afraid to get mean if it makes you feel better.

Day 16- Take a moment and think about how you wish to represent yourself. Do you want to wear skirts and dresses? Do you prefer baggy pants and a puffy jacket? Do you like wearing makeup? How do you style your hair? Record how you currently dress and look and how you wish you could dress and look. Write about how your wishes reflect your identity.

Day 17- Write some ways you can improve on the way you treat yourself. Are you hard on yourself because you just can't make the right grade? Do you obsess over how you don't fit in to your family's standards of gender and sexuality? Give yourself some love and think about how you can be nicer to yourself. Remind yourself that school grades aren't more important than your own needs. Remember that if you are in an unhealthy relationship with friends or family, it isn't your fault.

Day 18- Write about what really makes you feel like yourself. You know better than anyone what your authentic self is. So what is it? What makes you feel really... you?

Day 19- If someone described you, what would they say? This can be anything from physical appearance to personality. This can help you think about how you present yourself to others. Do you want more people to know exactly what gender you identify as? Do you not want people to know what pronouns you prefer?

Day 20- Do some research on neopronouns. If you don't use any, perhaps you'll find a set or three you feel comfortable with (if not, that's fine!) If you can't do your own research, try making up your own set! I sometimes feel semi-feminine, like just a little teaspoon of femininity, but I don't really like she/her pronouns. So, I made for myself a set that sounds similar but isn't quite there. Xe/Xer/Xers/Xerself. The 'x' is pronounced like the 's' in 'measure.' A good way to make sure you know how to use a set of neopronouns in a sentence is to use this example I got from pronouny: Today I went to the park with xer. Xe brought xer frisbee. At least, I think it was xers. By the end of the day, xe was throwing the frisbee to xerself.

Day 21- Have you heard the phrase "black sheep of the herd"? It refers to someone that doesn't really fit in to their social group. In what ways are you the black sheep? Is it because of your identity or orientation? How can you help others to see you aren't different and shouldn't be alienated? How can you encourage people to welcome LGBTQIA+ people to the herd?

Day 22- Imagine you are teaching a class of young children about LGBTQIA+, gender, and sexual/romantic orientations. What would you say? How would you encourage them to be open minded and to explore their own identities?

Day 23- With great Pride comes great hardships. There are many obstacles and difficulties when it comes to finding your true self and figuring out your identity and orientation. What hardships have you overcome? What have you learned from them?

Day 24- One of your friends comes to you about having questions about gender identity. They are questioning their own identity and seek your help and support. List some ways you would help your friend feel supported and loved while also helping them discover their identity.

Day 25- List three things you would do if you weren't afraid. (For me, these would easily be: attending Pride Parades, advocating for queer rights, and coming out)

Day 26- Take your favorite or least favorite LGBTQIA+ ship and rewrite a scene as if they were together, or list some of your favorite queer ships.

Day 27- Discover some gender-neutral terms for things like family members, romantic partners, or honorifics (Mister, Miss, Mx.). If you can't find any you find interesting or comfortable, try creating some of your own. My pibling (parent+sibling) calls me their nibling or nibkid (NB term for sibling's child).

Day 28- Have you ever wanted to write a story? Record an idea or two, or three or four, for LGBTQIA+ stories. They can be anything from lesbian princesses to a coming-of-age trans story. Maybe you'll end up planning out your best seller!

Day 29- Think about what rights aren't granted to LGBTQIA+ people. What are they? Do they directly affect you as well? How do these lack of rights make you feel? What can you do to help advocate for these rights?

Day 30- The last day of Pride Month doesn't mean it's the last day of acceptance and love. How can you spread Pride throughout the year? How can you keep and open mind and heart and advocate for LGBTQIA+ rights? Maybe set a list of goals for yourself, things you want to keep up through the year.

#queer pride #lgbt pride #gay pride #lesbian pride #asexual pride #nonbinary pride #pride #writing prompts #journal prompts #lgbtqia #lgbt #lgbt community #love is love #gay #gay journal #queer #self love #queer representation

[procrastinatorproject]

Fic writer review, thank you to @thelaithlyworm  for the tag <3

how many works do you have on AO3?

Ten? Oh no, it’s actualy 12 now!

what’s your total AO3 word count?

86,468

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Grand total of 1: Star Trek: Picard - although my latest offering might branch a bit into other Trek as well.

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

“Passengers”

“And a Barrel of Gagh”

“CMO’s Log”

“Preparations”

“Game Night”

Which is actually kinda interesting. I wrote Passengers, Preparations, and Game Night while the fandom was still a lot more active (especially in the Aramis in Space corner), so that makes sense. The CMO’s log has had chapters added every few months, giving it probably the most exposure of any of my fics. Barrel of Gagh, though? I think I’m gonna attribute that to Thimblerig turning it into a truly, TRULY brilliant piece of podfic. Also the fact that it’s whump involving a character played by Santiago Cabrera. ‘tis A Thing..... :D

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I really try to! I love talking with people in the comments and just... thanking the people who found the time and energy to leave comments. But especially in the last few months I have gotten very bad at keeping up with the comments and now there’s about two dozen that I have neglected to reply to for a painfully long time 🙈

But I will get there! Because I love that kind of interaction!

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

So far, none of them have had angsty endings. Angsty middles, yes, but not endings. I’m just a sucker for everyone being happy in the end. Or at least on the way to being better, and supported and cared for on that way.

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven’t yet, but I’m definitely not opposed. One of the threads of my 200k unpublishable whump scenes takes place in a continuity that has existed in my daydreams for... I wanna say six years at the very least, probably longer. It’s mostly straight-up Star Trek, but with the twist that it involves the Wraith, the telepathic, hive-minded alien race from Stargate: Atlantis that suck the life force out of you with their hands? Or, well, at least a variation thereof.

I once typed up the world building for that particular setting and it took me three hours to try and make it all make sense. So it’s... involved. But not necessarily “crazy”. And I’m not sure I’m ever actually going to publish any of the stories I have set in it (not least because that would envolve finishing any of them and bringing them into a form that is interesting to read for anyone but me...)

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Hm, not yet. I do enjoy reading smut, but only under very specific circumstances. I think I may eventually try my hand at smut, but the inner prude is still very strong. Writing about Rios and Xyr making out (which, honestly, was really tame, all things considered) made me melt in a puddle of blushing embarrassment, so full-on smut is probably beyond me at the moment. One day!

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Though litigating that in a fandom like ours would be... tricky. ST:Pic is way too small to steal stories outright. But similar or the same ideas pop up all the time. And it’s a complete coincidence. Reading the book that recently came out and that has a kinda similar setting to a lot of my stories (pre-season 1, early in Rios’s history as captain of Sirena, dealing with original characters, holo shenanigans, friendship with Raffi, etc.), I was struck by just how many elements, both scenes or story beats and little details, were similar to things that have cropped up in my writing. And it is entirely coincidental, because I am beyond certain that the author doesn’t read fanfic. Just... for legal reasons. Not to mention I wrote a bunch of the things I saw parallels to while the book was already in production, and some of them are only in my drafts.

So there is a ton of convergent evolution going on in this particular section of the fandom, and trying to litigate who came up with certain plot ideas or character beats when would be a sysiphean disaster. Some things are clear and whenever I use any of them I give credit where I can, but people will have very similar ideas. It just happens. So no, I haven’t had either a full-on story or “an idea” stolen, and I might change my tune if it ever does happen, but so far, I’m trying to practice equanimity, so I’ll be better at it should I ever need it.

have you ever had a fic translated?

Sadly no. My dad keeps complaining that all my fic is in English so he can’t read any of it, but honestly? I’m kinda glad for this very convenient excuse. Maybe if I ever feel like I want to practice my interpreting skills, I will give translating the stories into German a shot. We’ll see. Otherwise, if anyone feels inspired: Have at it! Just let me know, okay?

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not quite. I have a draft of off-the-cuff worldbuilding that I wrote on Discord with @curator-on-ao3 and that I would love to turn into an actual short fic (letters from a conference on holo-ethics), but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.

what’s your all time favorite ship?

I don’t really do shipping.

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I WILL NEVER ACCEPT DEFEAT!!!! One day, I will write the next installment of Star Trek: La Sirena! I have so many ideas for that continuity and those characters. I’m not going to abandon them!

what are your writing strengths?

Hmmmmm. Probably detailed worldbuilding? Ask me something about, say, a technological or cultural aspect of Star Trek and chances are, I have thought about it in the past or will come up with three different sets of intricate lore within half an hour. (Things like... the architecture of San Francisco, or Will there still be taxi drivers? or the treaty between IKEA Intergalactic and the Borg Collective, or the Universal Translator, or Emergency Services or Why There Are Very Few Ambulances On Earth Anymore etceterah etceterah...)

I’m also good at slapping together off-the-cuff plot ideas (if, say, you need an explanation for how Seven and Agnes ended up stranded on a desert island, I could probably give you three different scenarios pretty quickly. Just don’t ask me to make them poignant or actually write them.

I’m also very, very good at beginnings.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Everything that isn’t a beginning. Especially endings, or rather: finishing something, but also just... keeping momentum.

I think my dialogue is somewhat samey and not distinct enough between characters. (Also my witty banter is... let’s just say it doesn’t come to me naturally...)

And I also struggle with keeping things brief and to the point. I can write you 30k of whump covering a span of three hours, but fitting a whole story in the same space? Much more difficult!

I have also avoided writing full-on action so far, but where it has crept in it has always been a struggle and been workshopped a lot with the indefatigable beta.

Otherwise, I don’t know. My self-perception is always a little warped, so I’m not sure what other people would say my weaknesses are.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Oof. Well. I have used Spanish sentences in my fic and done the thing where they’re translated in the end note, but I’ve mostly done it sparingly. I’ve also done the ‘“What do you want?” he said in Spanish.’ It’s tricky. But I will likely keep doing it in some instances, even if it’s a bit annoying.

(It also really helps to have a native speaker of Spanish as a beta, even if it’s Spanish from a different region than you’re character.)

Speaking of regional: I’m also torn about the whole “phonetically writing out accents” issue. Some people love it, some people hate it, I’m really unsure because I’m not a native speaker of English, so I’m not even sure I’m consistent in my narrative voice’s regional quirks. So far, I’ve mostly gone with describing that an accent is happening, and only writing out when phrasing actually differs from standard English. Like Ian (Scottish) saying “dinnae” but not writing “I” as “ah” as you’d see on, say, Scottish twitter.

Though it can be a very useful tool if, for instance, you want to indicate a characters accent getting stronger as they get tired or upset. 🧐

Anyway, I don’t think there is one right or wrong answer here and everyones milage will vary.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Published? ST:PIC

Actually first? Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. Pretty much simultaneously, though I did write more for LotR. On graph paper, mind, with my fountain pen turned upside down so I could write smaller. I still have folders worth of those stories that I urgently need to digitize before they fade and I lose them forever...

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I’m going to quote @thelaithlyworm here: I Love All My Children Equally! I honestly couldn’t say. They are different and I love them for different reasons but I love them all.

Thank you for the tag! ❤ I’ve kinda lost track of who all has done this already or has already been tagged, so feel free to ignore me! But I tink I’m tagging @curator-on-ao3, @aini-nufire, @29-pieces, @flowers-creativity, @highfunctioningflailgirl, @cristobalrios and @the-goofball. And anyone else whom I forgot or who feels inspired to do this!

#ask meme #writing #lili's writing adventures #this was fun!

[subwalls]

Tales from the SMP Presents: The Haunted Mansion

An ongoing exploration of how the Inbetween drives my Kingdom Hearts brain crazy with paranoia! Less of an analysis this time, because we got confirmation (VALIDATION!!), and more of speculation, but yeah!

First of all! I was right not to trust this fucker.

Just kidding, that’s not the first thing we’re gonna talk about here. First of all, a gentle recap!

As I’ve mentioned before, the Inbetween has some uncanny resemblance to the Kingdom Hearts world known as Castle Oblivion. Castle Oblivion is known for being the place where the main series protagonist lost all of his memories, and even had false memories implanted while he was getting deeper and deeper into it. 

You might be curious as to how the Kingdom Hearts protagonist escapes.

He doesn’t.

He needs outside help, and a lot of it, to get him out of that situation. Even then, it takes a whole year. He drove his own heart into the bottom of the abyss in his desperation to save someone he was tricked into thinking he knew, and he didn’t even regret it, because he was saving someone.

... A lot of people on Dream SMP have different ideas on what it means to save people.

Also, the castle also had a very plot-twisty secret where it used to be the lush and wonderful home of these three friends before they fell apart; one was lost to the Evil Dark Side™ (not real name), the other was trapped in the Realm of Darkness (real name), and the last one fell into a coma for TEN (10) YEARS and his body was left to be protected in the heart of the land, which was then locked and turned into Castle Oblivion.

So, pretty fucked up place! Not inherently evil, but the place of great misfortune and just... not very good for everyone there.

Let’s start at the beginning!

Welcome back indeed. Take notice of the wither rose in the pot, by the way, I’ll come back to this in a bit.

The first thing that stands out to me on this page is the smiley face, of course. It’s not the ever-iconic, ever-evil “:)”, but it’s similar enough that I think the callback is intentional. The smiley is c!Dream’s icon, of course, which... honestly makes me think that “:]” might be DreamXD, but that might be because I’m very very biased for the server god who simps for a dangerously apathetic cottagecore once-king.

Of course, it does also look kind of like Quackity’s face, and cc!Quackity has said something about big lore coming for him, but until further evidence is presented I’m disinclined to draw a connection there.

The Inbetween, as we’ve come to know the author of some of these books to be, being happy that Karl is continuing—it reminds me of the KH protagonist being told yes, good job, keep going, as he stumbles deeper and deeper into the castle that strips away memory after memory from his heart. Why does the Inbetween think that Karl’s time travel is important, his careful documentation of every story? Is it because the more he does it, the more he becomes attached? The more he becomes reliant on the Inbetween to feed the missing pieces of his memory?

Is it because the Inbetween, in parallel to c!Dream and c!Wilbur, prioritize the concept of story over the characters?

Things to think about. 🤔

Also kind of interesting that the Inbetween thinks Karl will eventually uncover “all [he] needs to”, which continues to make me think that the more c!Karl comes to the Inbetween the more he becomes... either dependent or over-trusting of it. Not sure. But weird things happen when it’s magic that tampers with memories, rather than trauma.

Basically, I’m getting “there is no war in Ba Sing Se” vibes.

The book continues to say that Karl probably has a lot of questions and that it would love to answer :] but never actually does. It’s trying to come off as helpful without actually being helpful. All it does is tempt him with the prospect of answers, and then draws him in deeper. “Continue onward, Karl.” But why?

Another wither rose pot.

Sidestepping the very innocuous, very surface-level information offered here (because that’s it, it’s nothing about the workings about the Inbetween, it’s just a little sweet carrot to distract with), I cannot even begin to convey the absolute terror that consumed me at the word “sleepy.”

I mentioned earlier that one of the original characters who lived in the land that would become Castle Oblivion went into a coma, right? But it’s more commonly referred to as sleeping. The game is even called “Birth by Sleep”, and there’s a whole thing about trying to get him to “wake up”. So the idea that time travel can take something out of the traveller that makes them tired, the idea that there is one specific room for sleeping quarters within the Inbetween, paired with that not-quite-right smiley face—I am traumatized, I tell you.

Yes it could be a “haha look what I did with the sentence, because day is a form of time and they time travel so long day is a funny term” kind of smiley, but. Kingdom Hearts has trained me to be suspicious of any talk of sleep.

There’s something just mildly unsettling about the way it continues, with the references to the “many Karls” and the “many many great stories” that sounds borderline condescending.

And now we get the, uh, “other” author. Notice how this one actually did not have a corresponding wither rose in a pot. I’m starting to think that the flower might actually be an indicator of the not-this-author-pictured-above, the probably-Inbetween-itself, so the fact that this book was found separately from a wither rose pot and it was tucked away under a tree... A tree, under which c!Karl will later find a bit of a refuge... yeah, different author. Or at least an author from a different time.

I’ll elaborate in a moment, but I do think that there’s three (3) mindsets/authors happening here: the sickly sweet Inbetween pretending to be good, the person trying to get c!Karl to distrust the Inbetween, and... someone who desperately wants c!Karl to stay in line.

This is the third... I don’t want to say author, because it too has the wither rose pot and is trying to keep c!Karl playing along with the Inbetween, but it’s much less coherent and much more desperate.

No “:]”, either.

Some possibilities I’m considering:

the Inbetween, but it’s like, a security subroutine or a glitch in the system,

the Inbetween, but it’s from a future wherein c!Karl has fucked it up to the point of desperation,

Karl / the other author, but it’s from a future, where trying to stray from the Inbetween resulted in something traumatic happening and they don’t want it to happen anymore.

Some fun possibilities to keep in mind. Anyway!

Ooh, the return of the wither rose pot.

For this part, the only thing I really have to say is that the repetition of the Inbetween trying to present itself as “a place to feel at ease” is... Well, as the lovely Fear has said in this post linked here, a place that tries and makes itself seem safe probably isn’t, because a genuinely safe place wouldn’t need to announce it all the time.

Very much sounding like a Ba Sing Se thing.

More importantly, the book actually says that it’s “wild” how the Inbetween is “so beautiful that even time travellers who go anywhere at anytime ever and they still choose here” with a good old “:]” tacked on at the end. That’s... that’s not just me thinking like that sounds kind of threatening, right? Like, time travellers can see anything anywhere, and they keep coming back to the Inbetween. Why?

Is it because they forget the beauty of anything else? Is it because it’s not beauty, but rather attachment and emotion that keeps someone going back to a place? If someone forgets their loved ones and precious things, then why would they go anywhere but the place where they’ve put all their stories?

Why did KH’s protagonist keep going deeper into Castle Oblivion even though he knew that the castle was taking apart his memories? Because he had one thing left: the fake, implanted memory, which told him that in order to save someone, he needed to push on no matter the personal cost.

So the real question is: are the time travellers coming back to the Inbetween because they want to, or because they no longer have a choice?

It regards all the different Karls with such... distant affection, too. “How beautiful,” it calls them, for wandering the blank halls with blank stares and blank hearts, none of which react to each other. It says that they “choose” to walk the halls, uncover mysteries, and tell stories. But what was the other choice? Was it really a choice at all?

Hmm.

Karl goes on to explore, and finds another book that does not have a wither rose pot, which tells him he has to go Under The Tree.mp3 and informs him that he “can’t afford not to”. Cool. Not ominous at all.

He finds another, which says the same thing.

Definitely not ominous. /s

The phrasing here is interesting, because it’s also phrased like a threat. Usually, when someone tells you that you “can’t afford not to”, you’re either looking at a scam or at the business end of a weapon. But the empty pages tell you that the author is trying to keep it down low. That’s one of the ways Minecraft players have found to express tone in the very limited form of Minecraft books, and it works splendidly.

Not to push my DreamXD agenda, but like... the door was iron. Iron doors are a weakness for Dreams and dreamons and, mayhaps, Dream’s dreamon.

I know it’s probably just because the iron door keeps in line with the color palette of the build but let me dream, alright.

Anyway, book content! And an interesting point of order: there is a wither rose pot. I said earlier that it might be an indicator of the Inbetween as an author, but that doesn’t make much sense now, does it? This is meant to be a place hidden from the “it” that I assume to be either the Inbetween itself or the one/s controlling it.

So why the wither rose pot inconsistency?

Unless it doesn’t mean that. Unless it’s just a metaphor for, say, memories withering away or something. Or maybe it’s just a pretty plant, for funsies! Who knows. If I had to guess, I’d say that (after much reflection) it’s likely less a mark of author and more a theme of, mm, memory status. The withering away of memories. It fits in with the Inbetween, because that’s what might be responsible for it, but the author/s of the book aren’t immune, either. They get blinks of clarity, with the hidden, tucked-away tomes, but they might not be completely free.

The next book, however, again lacks the wither rose pot. It might not be a coincidence that the one without the potential mark of a withering memory is the one that actually divulges some more information.

This book goes into slightly more detail about the warning, though not about whatever actual threat it is that the castle (which... Castle Oblivion, you know) presents.

It says that 1) it’s not what it seems, 2) the "truth about the other forms of you”, 3) this place “is not okay”, and 4) get in that portal we saw that was blocked off before.

We know that the Inbetween isn’t what it seems, but the “truth” about the other forms... Hm. This is, in fact, another Kingdom Hearts Thing. There’s a running joke that everyone on the very large cast of characters in KH that in the end, every person is actually either secretly a version of the antagonist (through possession or body splitting or whatever), or a version of the protagonist (through similar concepts). Multiple bodies and other forms is definitely a Thing in KH, though it’s not as oh-god-not-again definitely-bad as the sleeping thing.

I think the other forms have either become reliant on the Inbetween or have forgotten everything but the Inbetween, or both. Maybe more of the prior, since the warning is against trusting the place.

And, uh, this? Fucking terrifying. I love it to pieces.

Every single one of these books has a wither rose pot, and this is kind of why I think that the Inbetween or its master/s is, in some way, possibly functioning via routines and like... an AI. Or a genius loci kind of thing.

But good news, there aren’t 13 books, there are 14! This is important for Kingdom Hearts reasons, because Kingdom Hearts has a big thing about the numbers 13 and 7 (13 is the number of pieces of darkness, and 7 is the number of pieces of light, and this is equal somehow, don’t question it).

Now, 14 is an important meme number in the MCYT fandom, of course, but I don’t think it has terribly too much to do with the lore beyond a fun easter egg.

The books themselves trying to tell c!Karl to, essentially, go with the flow and the path that the Inbetween has set up for him is... something. I like the idea that it’s some future version of something trying to stop something from happening, but we all know it’s probably not going to work. Fun times.

And finally, this.

The Inbetween is a bit of a narcissist, huh? It won’t shut up about how it’s so pretty and irresistible and the whole definition of, like, a honey trap. Oh my god it even describes it as ~mysterious~ as a good trait, that’s hilarious.

More pertinently, it also calls the Inbetween “a time traveller’s dream”.

A time traveller’s. Dream.

Again, not to push my DreamXD agenda, BUT—

But! Getting back on track, the book expresses its eagerness to see Karl again, says their relationship is gonna be great, reminds him that his stories are important, and then tells him that he needs the Inbetween/author just like the SMP needs him.

Uh. He’s going to need the Inbetween?

Hello?

Why? How? So far it’s presented itself as being pretty and perfect but it never said anything about necessity! What’s going on!

Very much reminded of how Castle Oblivion was presented as “you need to keep going in even though it takes your memories away because there’s someone you need to save [fake but you don’t know that because you don’t remember anything]”, and I am afright.

Talk about subtle strings being tugged at here. I’m really seeing the beginning seeds of a dependency thing being sown, and if it weren’t for the side books painting giant neon warning signs everywhere, I don’t know if it would’ve caught on. An artificially cultivated concept of how important and great the Inbetween is, and don’t you just want to take all those stories from that messy world elsewhere but come back here in the end to take a break and exist and explore and oh, isn’t the Inbetween great, isn’t it wonderful?

Man, c!Dream wishes he was this good at subtle manipulation.

tldr; there are multiple authors trying to tug c!Karl in different directions via those books. The Kingdom Hearts parallels predict that his memory will be at stake, and he might not be able to escape without help.

#tales from the smp #dream smp #general thoughts #the inbetween is a scary place im telling u #a Place that wants to be your friend but probably has ulterior motives? oof!!

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villian-Sicle | Part 5

I feel like now would be a pertinent time to mention that this is my first attempt at writing a sort of drabble series. The majority of my work is 50k-100k word nerd ass novels, and I think that this part will make that unfortunately abundantly apparent. I’m sorry for just how long it is, but I’ve absolutely loved writing these characters, and I got a little bit carried away with fleshing out the world a bit more ^^

Also, I feel I should probably mention that, though characters in this story speak Latin, I do not know any Latin. I wrote this using dictionaries and very basic grammar guides, and I sincerely hope I did not mess up too bad.

Thank you for reading! It’s a long one, but I hope you’ll enjoy.

CW//Superhero whump, villain whumpee, hypothermia, military setting (kinda), pet whump, dehumanization, past trauma, muzzles, restraints, conditioned whumpee, depiction of an implied panic attack, denial of water

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

Villain couldn’t help but shake and buck their head as a corrugation of metal and leather was slipped over their face, securing their jaw in its current position and forcing them to bite down against the pressure. It had been fitted since last time, they noted rather hollowly-- with a piece of padding now standing between the bridge of their noise and the harsh metal wires. Regardless of how many adjustments were made to the piece, however, making it comfortable seemed beyond their ability.

They, in this specific circumstance, referred mainly to the two soldiers before Villain. Trainer was the only one of the two that they knew the name of-- though they were nearly unrecognizable beneath the layers of gear shrouding their appearance.

The helmet they wore resembled more so that of a motorcyclist rather than that of an armed combatant, but the rest of their kit was far more military. Beneath their uniform bulged the clear outlines of a tac-vest, with their hands shielded by Kevlar gloves, constructed of an intricate mesh of triangular pieces, in a similar manner to chain-mail.

The other soldier was dressed in nearly identical kit, just without the gloves-- those were for handlers, which this other soldier must’ve surely not been. They turned to Trainer, noises in an odd language curling off their tongue. Trainer replied with a laugh.

With practiced hands, Trainer took the muzzle’s straps and secured them behind Villain’s head, tightening the metal until it dug into their skin, tearing at old sores created by the same device. Their leash was quickly hooked to a ring protruding from the muzzle’s wires.

“Manibus.” Trainer’s voice spoke. They nearly flinched at the sheer speed at which Villain offered their hands. Momentarily, Trainer ghosted their fingers over the leather mitten restraints that kept Villain’s fine motor abilities under control. They checked the wrist straps, ensuring their tautness, nodding their approval.

“Abeamus?” The other soldier suggested, to which Trainer gave another nod. They wrapped Villain’s leash around their wrist, halving its length, until there was negligible slack in the line.

Another group of soldiers, all dressed in military-style garments of their own, loitered together by the door to the staging room. They looked to Trainer, marginally straightening their postures, and, presumably, minimizing the amount of swearing in their speech.

With a few words and a flick of the wrist, the squadron was off.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Leader couldn’t stop looking at Villain’s eyes.

They weren’t quite certain what had pulled them into such an odd trance. It was nothing about color, certainly, nor anything else physical or inherent-- they were unremarkable, in such respects. No, it was certainly something about the expression they portrayed.

A moment ago, they’d seen shattering fear turn to fury in these eyes. Now, they seemed blank, as though constructed of glass and merely painted upon. There was no expression beyond them, no recognition, no indication that Villain’s mind was occupied by anything at all. Their gaze stared straight through Leader, through the ceiling above as well.

Leader was torn from their daze by a commotion from behind them as the door was thrown open. Medic was nearly knocked over as Hero burst in, followed more ploddingly by Counselor.

“Be careful.” Leader warned, looking up and turning to the group. “There’s broken shit everywhere.”

Hero’s eyes darted around the room, seemingly taking in the mess. Broken glass coated the tile floor in a thin dusting of shards, while various mechanical parts still smoked in whatever place they had happened to end up. The lights had been blown out completely, leaving the lighting in the room to be provided by a flashlight laid on a countertop, as well as, now, the light soaking in from the hallway.

After their panicked scan, Hero settled their gaze on Villain.

“Are they...”

“They’re fine.” Medic interrupted.

“They’re not moving.”

“Well... I’m going to hazard to say that that’s a good thing. If I had to guess, it seems like a shock response. It’s not exactly my biggest concern, right about now.”

“What about the, uh, bleeding hole in their chest?”

“That would be my biggest concern.”

Medic grabbed a variety of, miraculously undamaged, medical supplies from a cupboard, setting to work at Villain’s wound. It was small, deliberate, having been incised to be used as an access point for the dialysis machine, but Leader had a feeling that even minor blood loss could be a death sentence, at this point.

Hero and Counselor hovered, for a moment, at Villain’s bedside, while Medic did their work. Leader stood back, nearly having to forcibly tear their gaze from that of Villain.

That odd sort of silence remained for several moments, if not minutes, as Medic’s deft hands worked to close the wound. It was only when the last suture was tied that Counselor spoke up-- one of the only times they had done so for the whole mission.

“Leader?”

“Hm?”

“What’s our plan, exactly? What are our orders?”

They raised a brow. Counselor was never that direct-- nor that military.

“Um...” It felt quite stupid, being caught unprepared like this, but in their defense, they had nearly just been killed by an exploding air conditioner. “I... I don’t want to hazard doing anything until Villain is stable.”

“That was your plan before.” Medic muttered as they pried latex gloves from their hands. “It almost got us killed.”

“Right. Yeah, um, are they stable enough? For transport?”

“They’re not going to bleed out, if that’s your concern. Physically, I’d say they’re stable. Mentally? I think we need to get them to a secure location before they snap out of this fugue state.”

“Alright.” Leader chewed their tongue. “Let’s get the van ready, then.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The ship’s deck was notably busy, despite the fact that it was relatively late at night. The vessel’s skeleton crew hurried about, keeping it afloat and on track, while outdated Humvees drove in chaotic paths. What the commotion was about was beyond Villain’s knowledge, or their capacity to care. All that mattered was fighting their instinct to cover their ears, and ensuring that they were keeping up with Trainer.

They could feel it-- the boat-- beneath them. The millions of systems and circuits and electrons, thrumming and being jolted about by a swaying sea.

The small company that Trainer had gathered made their way to the far end of the deck, where a VTOL plane was already humming, waiting for its crew to board. They did so, clustering themselves into the compact cabin. There was, notably, no room the vessel for a pilot-- all steering operations would be handled by an artificial intelligence of sorts. Villain greeted the computer program, but it did not respond.

Trainer settled themself into a middle seat at the front of the cabin. Villain sat obediently at their side, at which point their leash was secured to a handrail sticking out of the wall. They rested their head against the window. Though the cabin was crowded, at the very least, Villain was no longer forced to make the trip in the K9 compartment.

Once every member of the company was settled and seated, the VTOL’s doors slid shut, and the engine thwapp-thwapp-thwapped until the aircraft was off the ground. It shot upwards for a second, traveling several hundred feet in the time, before entering a linear dive and settling for a position around fifty feet above the choppy waters.

Villain closed their eyes, allowing their mind to wander to the creature around them. The VTOL contained what was likely the most complex computer program that the Organization had. Despite all its bells and whistles, however, it paid no mind to Villain’s prodding and wandering.

The plane’s route was not awfully complex. The vehicle was designed, surtout, for water-based travel. Though it could move over land, it struggled to rise above three hundred or so feet, making it useless for far-inland routes. Wherever it was going today was, luckily, on the coast-- somewhere in the forests of Washington state.

If they so wished, Villain could alter the route in any way they so pleased. They could send the aircraft into the ocean below, or back into the ship, or into the first land they saw. It would be simple-- all their problems gone in a moment.

Once the plane’s angle had leveled out, Trainer stood, moving to the front of the plane. Villain gnashed their teeth, attempting to rise from their seat, but finding themself limited by the taut leather line on their muzzle. They were too far, they were on mission, they shouldn’t have been so far, come on, come on. The leash refused to give way, however, leaving them firmly affixed in position.

Trainer cleared their throat, drawing the attention of the gathered company. They began to speak, words taking on quite a commanding air, though Villain only understand a few choice phrases.

“Incursus” was the one that made them prick their ears. They had heard it only a few times before. In conversation, once or twice, but more notably during mission briefings. The last time they had heard it... several missions ago, before they had been briefly confined to the medical wing.

The word itself was meaningless-- its implications less so.

Villain gulped, their jaw straining against the wires of their muzzle.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Leader walked at the side of the gurney, ghosting a hand over one of the siderails all the while. A pair of doctors pushed the gurney itself, with Medic trailing close behind, and Hero and Counselor at their sides.

In contrast with the upper floors, the hospital’s lobby floor was brightly lit, almost overwhelmingly so, with expanses of floor-to-ceiling windows. The beige carpeting was bathed with the last remnants of sunrise orange-- it had been a long night.

The few patients in the hospital at such as hour were hurried out of the way as the gurney moved through. A scattering of nurses and varied hospital personnel were littered about, watching the Heroes’ procession, but staying several yards away, unwilling to even be in Villain’s vicinity.

Leader looked down at the gurney. A blanket had been draped over Villain, working to keep them at a stable temperature. Their fabric and webbing restraints had been replaced by those made of metal.

Their eyes were open. They had been the whole time. Despite, they had yet to struggle in any form.

The automatic doors at the front of the lobby rumbled open, allowing the gurney to be pushed through. A team of doctors and Leader’s own personnel stood outside, gathered around an ambulance with its back doors hanging open. The doctors pushing the gurney passed it off to some of the stronger personnel, who lifted the contraption into the vehicle’s back, securing it.

Leader nodded their thanks, and moved to get behind the vehicle’s wheel.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

The ship hadn’t been too far off of the East coast to begin with, making the trip to Washington a relatively short one. It took one hour, thirty-six minutes, and eighty-two seconds, to be exact-- far more amicable than the 16-hour trips they had endured in the past.

The VTOL had made a measured descent into a forest clearing, shredding the grass below with its landing gear. With the doors open, the company had scrambled out; Trainer taking Villain’s leash in hand once more.

In the clearing, there had been no sign of life besides a scurrying songbird or two. Villain had only then realized a far more unpleasant aspect of the mission.

They were going to be marching.

Not marching, exactly, they supposed. There was no regimented order to it, it was more like hiking. Just... hiking for hours. The VTOL couldn’t go too far inland, and landing it close to a target was often impossible.

So, they marched.

Sometimes, heaven would be merciful, and the trek would be short, of only a mile or so. On crueler days, though, they would move for hours-- breaking only for water, which Villain would watch the soldiers drink with a parched throat.

Even just from the look of the clearing, and its location, however, Villain had been able to tell that today was not one of those more merciful occasions.

When the plane had landed, the moon at been at its highest point--signifying that midnight had struck. For the first few hours, they walked in darkness, until dawn slowly began to creep up.

All in all, the trek had taken four hours, most of which were spent walking. By the time the group stopped and crouched down, Villain felt their legs were about to snap. It had been far too many hours and far too many miles since they had cared to look at their surroundings. All that mattered was Trainer, and staying awake.

The company made themselves small among an area of heavy undergrowth. Trainer let Villain’s leash loosely hang around their wrist. Even if the technopath had any desire to flee, they doubted they could even get their legs back under them.

One of the soldiers spoke up, somehow sounding hardly winded. Though most of their words served as nonsense to Villain’s ears, one did stick out: Scopum. It was one of the words Trainer had used, back when they were teaching Villain how to search and retrieve objects.

Trainer nodded, took a drink of water from a canteen, and got to their knees. They pointed to something behind the bushes-- Villain got on their knees to look at well.

Over the wall of undergrowth, a building could be seen. It wasn’t particularly notable-- it would be best described as a cabin, with rustic architecture and an array of out-of-season Christmas lights. It seemed to be a vacation home of sorts; large enough to fit a family, certainly, but not a place anyone would live permanently.

Was this their Scopum? Their goal?

Trainer took hold again of Villain’s leash and stood. The real mission was just about to begin, and Villain could hardly stand.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The drive from the hospital to their base was longer than Leader would have preferred, enough to make them nervously request updates every few minutes, much to Medic’s distaste.

The base stood at the edge of one of Washington’s denser forests, about half an hour out from the city proper. The location provided security, and in their group’s early days, secrecy, but it made transport difficult.

“Hey, Medic?” Leader started.

“Villain is fine. They’re still out of it. Cabin temperature is staying steady at 70, their body temperature is just about where it should be. Keep your damn eyes on the road.”

Leader nodded, biting the inside of their cheek. City traffic had been left behind a few miles ago, leaving only empty back roads. Seven minutes to go, the GPS diligently reported.

“We’re close now, then.” Medic spoke, starting the conversation for once. They weren’t usually the one to do such a thing, but Hero and Counselor were in the ambulance’s back. “What are you thinking?”

“Thinking?”

“Your plans. Please don’t forget that you’re the leader around here, you give the orders. What do we do, when we get back to base?”

Leader bit their tongue to prevent themself from snapping at that passive insult. They were glad for the change in topic, at least.

“Our first priority is keeping ourselves safe. Villain’s safety is second priority-- I’m not sacrificing anything to keep their wellbeing. But I wouldn’t consider them a threat, right now. I assume you would like to keep them in the med bay?”

“For now, at least. They’re stable, but the fact that they’re still breathing is a miracle. I want to have my equipment nearby if they crash.”

“As long as it’s safe, then.”

“And then what?”

“Then... they’re still a prisoner, injured or not. Then we put them in the cells.”

“We don’t have any cells?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The company moved swiftly, forcing Villain’s legs to wake up to the horrible feeling of pins and needles. Trainer remained at the group’s head, leading them forth to the cabin.

It must have looked quite ridiculous, to an outsider. Villain would have laughed if they were able.

The group stopped before the quaint structure.

“Aperire.” Trainer ordered. Villain gnashed their teeth.

The command was a simple one, generally. It meant that they were to open something-- usually a door, or a box, or an encrypted device. The wooden door before them, however, had no electric component; it didn’t even seem to have a lock at all.

Still, they dove into the few electronics that the building did host. The Christmas lights seemed to be meaningless noise-- they tore through those, searching instead through the inner electronics. They were uncomplicated, so much so that their purpose couldn’t be so much as guessed.

Villain panicked, gnashing their teeth, shaking their head against the muzzle. They didn’t know what to do. They could feel their heartbeat, pounding in their head, throbbing.

“Aperire.” Trainer repeated. It only increased Villain’s heartrate-- what were hey doing wrong? Please, what were they doing wrong? They dove back into the systems. There was no door to be seen, just the lights, just some random system. They decided on the latter, tripping the system, just as they drew blood from biting down on their own tongue.

The house rumbled.

Instead of opening as a door should, the rustic home’s door slid into the wall, revealing a brightly-lit interior-- devoid of both furniture and interest.

The only point of interest was at the very center of the floor: A ramp, leading downwards.

Villain gulped. With rougher hands than before, Trainer yanked at their leash, forcing them forth. Together, the two descended, the company right on their heels.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

The base-- it had no real name, it was simply “the base”-- was an uncomplicated corrugation of concrete walls and sparse entranceways. It had been constructed as the shell of a factory, years ago, a factory which eventually fell through. Since then, Leader had organized quite a renovation of the property.

They drove the ambulance to the base’s parking lot, backing up to the curb as near to the entrance as they could.

“You worried?” Medic asked.

“Mhm.” Leader nodded, hopping out of the cockpit and to the asphalt below. The ambulance’s rear doors had already been swung open, with Hero and Counselor working to guide the gurney from it.

Villain still laid on the bed, shrouded with blankets, nearly comatose.

Their eyes moved.

Leader did a double-take, looking back to the figure on the gurney. Villain’s gaze had moved, now directing itself straight at Leader. Whatever expression they were portraying... it looked like fear.

Leader frowned. They moved to the transport bed’s side, placing their hands on the rails.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The ramp descended at least a story into the earth.

With every step they took, Villain could feel their mind become more and more cluttered. At first, they could only hear the simple lighting and ventilation systems, but as they grew deeper, more noises joined the cacophony. Computers and servers, medical equipment and weaponry, it all blended together, all humming, all whirring, all chanting until it made Villain’s head hurt.

At the base of the ramp, which they only reached after what felt like an eternity, stood a simple door. Nothing more than a steel barrier.

“Perdere.”

That command was about as simple as they came. Within a split second, the door, and half of the wall, before Villain had been decimated to rubble.

On the other side of the newly-torn door, a figure moved. Villain flinched, gnawing again on their bloodied tongue. Trainer forced them forward.

The room was empty, devoid, as the past one had been. There was no furniture, no weaponry, no defense. Only a person, standing squarely before the door at the far end.

Their wings brushed the room’s walls.

Leader glared.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

As they leaned over Villain’s bedside, Leader smiled-- an expression as gentle as they could make it. They weren’t sure what had suddenly turned them so soft. Pity, maybe? Somehow, though, it tugged at them in the same way as nostalgia.

They brushed a hand over Villain’s shoulder.

“Hey. You’re gonna be okay.”

The next part was the stupid one. The soft one, the one that would have made anyone in any faction laugh. One that, if anyone had heard it, Leader surely never would have lived down. Even they were not sure why they spoke it.

Five simple words. Five words without meaning.

“Welcome to your new home.”

#whump #villain whumpee #whump community #whumpblr #whumpee #conditioned whumpee #whump trope #whump prompt #hero villain whump

[kanthypantsalltheway]

Hey boo

You write idiot Anthony so well. And i'm so grateful to have a mutual who writes good Saphne cause can i tell you that i starve??? Buttt would you mind giving me a drabble about pregnant Kate going out with Daphne without telling Anthony? And anthony does an anthony? And daphne is ready to throw him and save her friend?

A very happy birthday to @missfairygodmother , hope you enjoy this one , although I completed this in a hurry:)❤️best wishes.

Kate heard the noise of a car horn. Ah, that must be her messiah, Daphne. They had planned this for so long, well a week at least. Daphne would come and give her a lift and they’ll shop, eat and play games. To be honest, she could have done all this herself but even with Daphne coming along, she knew Anthony would have a mini freak-out session. God help her, if she went alone he would have a heart attack. She mentally cursed him, as if she needed help with her steps, she was not ill but pregnant!

Kate felt her phone buzz, Daphne’s name on her screen, she furrowed her brows and looked down the window, she was making round eyes at hers, why was she calling?

“Wha_”

“I swear Kate, are you day-dreaming? I’ve been waiting for five minutes now, do you need help?” all though she sounded exasperated on her first half but genuinely worried in the second half.

“No I’m coming.” She said quickly, she could curse Anthony in her mind once she was in the car.

She looked one last time in the mirror, she was wearing a dark green chiffon dress, her barely visible bump turning almost non-existent under the dress. She grabbed her purse and took off on a run.

“Are you okay? What took you so long?” Daphne asked as Kate closed the car door once she was seated beside her.

“yes, I am fine. I was just mentally cursing Anthony.”

Daphne rolled her eyes, “ No point in doing that, he would lose it anyway when he learns that you’re not here.”

“Maybe, he will control himself.” Kate murmured, hesitantly.

Daphne scoffed as she began driving. “ This is Anthony, your husband we are talking about. The one who brought five doctors to check on your leg, remember?”

Kate winced, “and all the doctors asked him if he was a doctor too, seeing that he was constantly questioning their each move.”

“I bet he wasn’t impressed.”

“ whenever is he impressed?”

“well, he is pretty impressed by you , Kate. Never thought my eldest brother would be lovesick." he said shaking her head, making Kate blush.

They drived safely to The Brunswick Centre.

Kate wanted to check some maternity clothes although she had to go quite a few months without them. Was it usual for women to be this excited about maternity clothes? She didn't know and hence the voiced the question to her sister in law as they walked out of the parking lot. Daphne and simon had been parents for three months now, both gleeful and excited still about every little thing baby Amelia could do. Be it blinking or yawning.

"To be honest, i'd have been a lot more excited about maternity clothes had people around me not pestered with all the questions and remarks about my body." Daphne said sighing.

Kate smiled, "its horrible when people do that" she agreed.

"But you know once the baby is out I instantly missed my bump. Don't get me wrong, it was great to finally not share my belly as a shared apartment for my little one, but I stilled miss it."

"Well I cannot wait to see my bump through my dress. Come, show me some good places."

Daphne steered her to the maternity section but Kate was easily distracted with baby products. They were very similar to what she used when she was a kid, and what she passed onto Edwina. She controlled her maternal instincts, repeating it in her head that now was not the time, they had five months after all.

She had at last chosen three maternity dress. God help her, a few manu dresses did not her accommodate her bump. She wondered if she should check some chiffon dress out before leaving for the game section.

"Have you any ideas about the nursery?" Daphne asked as she looked around a few scented oils.

Kate pondered the question before saying,"I have no idea, Anthony and I settled on something cottagecore-ey. Something that would be very Aubrey Hall, you know."

The sister-in-laws walked over to the gaming area, exchanging words of how it had been months before they were this invested in a game. So invested were they that they did not hear the heavy footsteps that belonged to Anthony. It was only when he cleared his throat that the pair looked back tk see him standing there, 3D glasses still on their face.

Kate's breath caught in her throat and she changed a look at Daphne who was bracing her shoulder for a retort in case her brother decided to say something insulting. In public.

The three stared at each other in silence before Anthony took a deep breath in, gestured his hands here and there and was about to break into a deep speech when Daphne said, "Not here, Anthony."

Anthony struggled a smile,"not here?"

Daphne stood up and pulled Kate along with her. The two made their way to the parking lot, Anthony increasing his pace to keep up with them. She unlocked the car doors and steered the couple in.

"Okay, before you fuck our heads up, Anthony. I'm going to give you a warning. If you so much as shout at any of us, especially your pregnant wife, I might throw you out of here." Daphne said.

Anthony glared at her, " And you brought my pregnant wife here?"

"She need not be brought, you know Anthony. She is quite capable." Daphne countered.

"Yes, Anthony I'm your wife, not your child and don't you dare question every move of our child. Oh god, what is to happen when the child-"

"Look, what you did here!" Daphne said, completely taking pleasure at the look of guilt and worry on her brother's face.

"You two did not even listen to any of my sentence!"

"As a matter of fact, we did." Kate answered evenly.

"I was worried you'd not be okay-"

"Oh fuck Anthony we are not toddlers! We are grown up women!"

"And if you mean to question our intelligence-" kate began as Anthony winced, this was not going to end well for him,"then you're not to sleep in our bedroom!"

Anthony huffed, " I did not mean that! I only wanted you to tell me beforehand so I would not freak out!"

"And if she did, you'd worry while you are in office and watch after her like a mother hen!"Daphne said, exasperated now.

" Ofcourse I would, she is my wife."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kate asked angrily.

"Oh my god, this is going out of hand!"

"I will wait outside while you two solve it out, and if you so much as not hear a syllable of what she says, I'll knock you over." Daphne said, shutting the door loudly once she was out.

Kate looked everywhere but at him, while Anthony moved his hands closer to her. She did not resist and so he brushed his lips along her knuckles.

"You know she must really be angry if she didn't realise 'knock you over' is phrase that should be saved for partners only, not brothers." He said laughing hesitantly.

"Well, she is rightfully angry." Kate said, offering no more.

"Even so, leaving a note on Newton's collar was quite dangerous. What if he had lost it? What if I thought you were lost? Or worse ran away?" He joked.

Kate rolled her eyes, "Newton's a very good dog, he wouldn't lose it. And I texted you a message saying I'm going out with Daphne. And you know, I might just run away with Daphne."

Anthony smiled, pulling her closer to him, "It was very clever of you to fire that message while I was in meeting and my phone was switched off. And I understand that I might be a bit of bore these days-"

"A bit?" She questioned, "Anthony, I don't need you to worry over my every move to the point that you don't trust me to be with Daphne in a mall." Her voice quivered a little.

He sighed, " it's just seeing as Daphne's pregnancy was difficult-"

"Not all pregnancies are same, Anthony and it doesn't matter because if I am cooped up once again all day at home other than work, with you hovering over me I might just die!"

"I am really sorry, i was being really stupid. But I'll always worry about you."

"Which is just fine as long as you don't stress yourself with horrible thoughts. I'm going to push a child out of my vagina, Anthony, I'll be okay to go to the mall."

Anthony nodded sheepishly, "so you don't want the c-section then?" He rubbed her arms to soothe tension out of her body.

"Maybe? Maybe not? We better discuss it with Dr. Rose."

Anthony nodded, "I'm truly sorry, I won't do it again. Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow. Anything you want." He said kissing her forehead.

Kate hid a smile along his collarbone and nodded. They were only able to embrace each other for a short while, because the next thing they heard was Daphne's opening the car door, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I am sorry, truly." Anthony said.

Daphne shrugged, "Treat us with some food then."

Anthony and Kate loved, approving her reaction.

"Alright, I'll buy us some food, I'll call Simon. Let us go to your place Daph, I want to meet my niece."

Daphne approved with a nod as she saw Anthony go to the restaurant. She turned to Kate and they both laughed heartily.

"We did a good job." Kate said, still laughing.

Daphne nodded, "i don't think he would repeat the behaviour again."

Safe to say, Simon shook his head when Daphne recounted the story to him, knowing full well what they both were upto now.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #phoebe dynevor #jonathan bailey #anthony bridgerton x kate sheffield #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton x kate sharma #simon basset

[stillgeekingout]

thoughts on reputation by lex croucher

first my non-spoilery thoughts (mostly non-spoilery. light spoilers for tone and general content): this book was so good and also SO STRESSFUL. haha. if you’re going into it expecting a light read, this isn’t it, but it’s incredibly funny (like seriously so so funny, there was probably at least one phrase or sentence on every page that gave me a little chuckle inside) and has a lot of really important things to say. and the stress does pay off for a very cathartic ending. you’re gonna suffer, but you’re gonna be happy about it etc.

honestly the two things I care the most about in books these days are if they’re funny and if they have characters that I care about. this supremely delivered on both counts. I really loved every single one of the characters (I mean, except the ones you’re supposed to hate, obviously. it does a very good job making you hate them). the third thing I care about is friendship narratives and hoo boy was there a lot of that too.

it gets compared to bridgerton a lot and I haven’t seen bridgerton, so I can’t speak to that, but I don’t think I would like bridgerton based on what I’ve heard of it and I really liked this. make of that what you will, I guess. it also gets compared to mean girls a lot and I think that’s very accurate, if mean girls as a narrative was kinder to its characters (including the plastics) and actually let characters be gay in a nuanced way. and if mean girls did a better job developing the love interest so we care about him and the romance part of the plot. similar to mean girls, if you’re going to be really bothered by secondhand embarrassment, this might not be the book for you. it’s not quite as pronounced but it is there, and I did squirm through a few scenes. this didn’t subtract from my enjoyment but it might for some people. The other content warnings are here for anyone who wants to know what I mean by heavy material: https://www.lexcroucher.co.uk/reputation-cw

Now time for my spoiler-filled thoughts under the cut!!

So I knew going into this that it would be too much drugs and alcohol content for me, a known prude, but that being said I thought it was handled really well and I liked that the narrative had things to say about doing things in excess / requiring that stuff to be able to have fun. and thomas’s whole thing was really thoughtfully handled.

Georgiana cracked me up the whole time with her naivety. I do think part of the embarrassment of this book for me was how much she reminded me of my younger clueless self, being inexperienced in everything and scandalized by everything. I also reeeeally related to the whole “this person is friend-shaped, be my friend be my friend be my friend”-ness of her. And I’m always a sucker for a “female character is very flawed and honestly kinda shitty to her friends but learns to be a better person over the course of the narrative” story.

I LOVE BETTY. I call being #1 betty walters fan. I get crazy when I latch onto a character, all I do is wait for them to make a next appearance and scream about it when they do. But anyway I just want to say that I loved betty from her first scene and I’m so glad george finally caught on. I was initially scared that it was going to go more the route of like, george is mean to betty in the climax and then realizes she has to apologize because she feels bad for her, but the fact that they became actual genuine close friends on top of that made me very very happy. No matter what else I say please know betty was my absoluuute favorite character, I’m obsessed with her, I would die for her, etc.

This book honestly just kept subverting what I thought was going to happen. I did not see the end coming at all, particularly with the way the jeremiah plot went. It reminded me a lot of Oklahoma (the musical) and a lot of… real life lol. but yeah it was v good and I’m proud of george.

I really did not expect to get very attached to thomas. Usually when a book is a friendship book with romance also in there, I get very very wrapped up in the friendship parts and then only sort of care about the romantic lead. And it did start that way when george was initially obsessing over him, I kept just kind of being like “ok he’s here, sure”. But lex gave us a kindhearted emotions boy, which is honestly the best kind of boy, and he plays piano and his dad is nice and he keeps george in check about being a kind friend? Heck yeah. The LETTERS?? YES. listen my favorite book is ella enchanted and ever since then, any romance that involves witty written correspondence is automatically in my good books. also he has the benedick energy of like, unquestionably supporting women over his sketchy friends and that’s Always good.

I loved each of the friends in different ways, and I am a little sad that we didn’t get much closure on Cecily and Jonathan in particular, but I do understand why it ended the way that it did and I appreciate Georgiana realizing that these were never really going to be her People. That’s a really cool thing that I don’t see a lot in stories. Usually either they make friends for life, or it turns out that the group were Bad People and that’s why they go their separate ways. So the fact that it was like “no, I think they are good people and I care for them deeply, but our ways of life are just never going to be compatible in the long run so I’m just going to appreciate them in my periphery from now on” was a really nuanced take and something that I think is truer to reality.

Let’s Talk About Frances. Frances intrigued the hell out of me because I never knew what the heck she was going to do next. I do always love a bitchy woman with secret emotions and after the first vulnerable sleepover scene, in my mind I already felt like I knew where frances’s arc might be going. But lord I did NOT! It’s really really interesting to have a book that follows so many tropes of other stories but at the same time goes in completely different directions. I would’ve read a whole bunch more about frances and her emotions and her parents and her trauma, and I really hope jane is helping her heal from all that and also be less of a jerk to everyone, and if anyone is writing the “jane and frances heal from trauma and become better people together” fic I am soooo there. I’m glad we at least got the confirmation that she believes george, that she got the satisfaction of telling off jeremiah, that she’s living with jane, and that her parents have separated at least for the time being. But yeah I think in a lesser book, frances would’ve been reduced to like “the regina george” and not necessarily given all the nuances that she had, and I really appreciated how much she felt like a rounded-out person with a lot of her own shit going on. I am sad that she and george had to end the way they did, but again, it makes sense for the narrative and I’m glad they’re at least on good enough terms that she’s going to go to the wedding.

I do think there were some things that were left loose (george bringing up donating to the poor was never addressed again, frances’s parents are barely addressed again which surprised me after the mrs. walters bit, etc) but now that I’m finished with it and not waiting for certain loose ends to be tied, I think that’s kind of the point. that sometimes things just end without closure. sometimes you just move on from people and you don’t get to change them in the way you wanted to.

I probably have a bunch more to say but the main thing is that every single character in this book felt extremely three dimensional to me, and that is a Really hard thing to pull off and it has made me even more excited to read all of lex’s future books. Came for the humor, stayed for the insanely well-developed characters.

#reputation #lex croucher #idk if there's a tag that won't get all mixed in with tswift stuff but yknow #excessively long post

[stupid-damn-harp]

Notes for “Rural Boys Watch the Apocalypse”

“Your hand’s in mine”

This poem doesn’t explicitly state the relationship between the two boys, and this adds to it. The two characters could be in a romantic relationship, and this choice comes with a variety of implications given the traditional christian liturgy that’s repeated throughout the poem. If this is the end of the world, where will these two gay boys end up? Are they thinking about their afterlife? Are they wondering if they can stay together? Whether they’ll be with their family? There’s so many questions that these boys might be thinking of if they’re in this sort of relationship. They could also just be very close neighbors. Later in the poem he specifies his “doomsday neighbors,” which might be a sign that the other boy and his family might be the other neighbors, or it might have just been explaining the neighbor’s behavior. Another option could be that they’re best friends that are so comfortable with each other that holding hands feels comforting, but not completely natural because the narrator thought it was important to point it out. 

“waters turnin' to blood”

The two boys obviously share the same or similar religious views, and are probably at least somewhat learned or devout in their faith. I grew up reading the scriptures and I can’t say off the top of my head what a biblical apocalypse looks like - but this boy can, and relates it to the other boy, expecting him to also understand.

“But there are only the fallin’ stars”

I’m struck that the “only” thing is the falling stars. It’s almost as if he’s saying that the rest of the world has already ended, already vanished from his view and his mind. All he can see is the stars falling, and it doesn’t matter anymore if the rest of the world or the people around him still exist. He’s somehow writing himself and the other boy off as unimportant in the face of this global catastrophe. This line also stands outside of any stanza, forcing us to pay attention to the entire phrase and inviting a degree of separation from the stanzas before and after. There are only the falling stars, and that’s important. More important than what this boy thought would happen, more important than telling where the initial warning came from. The present events hold more weight.

"'Least the weather channel warned us about it,"

I wonder why the weather channel is the one that predicted this apocalypse? He mentions falling stars, which might be under their jurisdiction, but I feel like higher-up governmental agencies would be in charge of announcing and predicting the literal end of the world. 

“are loadin' the back”

If the stars are falling, and this is the end of the world, where do these neighbors think they’re going? Where do they think that they’ll be safe?

“under large whitewashed crosses”

This line is especially striking given the religious imagery throughout the entire poem. Jesus was a middle eastern Jewish man, and that’s something that many Christians in America conveniently forget. Many people in this religion spread around views that those with darker skin are children of ham (as we see in the Poisonwood Bible) or suggest that the native american people are really the descendants of the Lamanites, so their darker skin was a curse from God. These crosses that the neighbors are taking with them embody all of these harmful beliefs. The religion itself is whitewashed. The crosses are described as large, and I’m having trouble modulating that size within my own thoughts. On one hand, they have to be small enough to fit within the back of a pickup truck. But, are these crosses large as in “human sized and could be used for their original purpose”? Large as in “larger than handheld so they seem giant, but they’re best suited for yard decorations”? Either way, I’m taking it as a symbol of how contemporary christians take up the most space in religious discussions in America and quite often interpret anything different from their blatantly obvious beliefs as an attack on their faith. Think Boomers yelling about the “war on christmas” type. These crosses are not only whitewashed but they’re large too, visibly screaming to anyone looking in their direction that the drivers of the truck belong to the Christian faith and that they’re going to be confrontational about it. Everything else is stacked under the crosses, giving them the most significance and the most visibility.

“I wanna see ‘em”

Honestly, this line slightly confused me. These women seem quite knowledgeable about the events foretold in the bible. But it’s also stated in the bible that human beings never see angels or God’s true form because we wouldn’t be able to handle it. Surely they must know that? Do they think that these rules will be lifted simply because the world is ending? Are they hoping to see these wonders even though it would have untold consequences on her own mortal form? Don’t get me wrong, I would also love to see an angel in their full and confusing glory, but I don’t have enough of a death wish to actually follow through with that.

“their calloused hands”

Interesting imagery here. Typically angels are described using delicate and ethereal words, or sometimes words that just remind us that angels are spirits and don’t have physical bodies. But the word “calloused.” Calluses imply hard work. Calluses mean rough hands, dirty feet, and tough love. Calluses mean a physical body that is growing stronger. There’s nothing delicate about calluses. There’s nothing inherently holy about calluses. The working class has calluses, and the so-called “perfect” bodies of models and influencersnever have calluses. But here these heavenly beings are, rough hands and all. Perhaps he’s envisioning someone he knows as an angel, and thus opted for the more human-feeling approach. Perhaps he’s hoping that the people of earth are fighting to stay here, fighting to continue living, and the mere act of carrying these writhing and fiery people causes so much work for the angels that they develop these human characteristics of calluses. Perhaps he’s hoping that he’ll become an angel over some darker fate. I’m not sure what implications were intended with this line, but it feels beautiful and wholly human to me, and I love it for that.

“stupid damn harp”

This is the first of two instances where the narrator uses the phrase “stupid dumb” to describe something of the archangel Gabriel’s. Both times he isn’t describing Gabriel himself, just things that he possesses in traditional stories. This could be a nervous boy making jokes in an unsure time as a coping mechanism, but it also could be the author showing his own disillusionment with the traditional christian stories and traditions. 

Additionally, the combination of “stupid” and “damn” here is pretty interesting. In Christian mythology, any deity in heaven (e.g. God, angels, Jesus, etc) possesses all the knowledge in the universe. This boy referring to the archangel’s belongings as “stupid” doesn’t reflect this. It almost feels like he wants to criticize the angel himself but he knows there might be consequences, so he settles for calling his iconic harp and tunic the words he wants to call the angel himself. He’s also using the word “damn,” which in biblical contexts typically has hellish connotations. If someone is damned, then they’ve been condemned to hell. The archangel Gabriel is the literal antithesis of that idea, so it’s interesting to see this word applied to anything involving him at all. 

“moanin’ like a sinner in hell”

This comparison continues the interesting dichotomy between heaven/hell that we find throughout the poem. The doomsday neighbors’ truck not only holds large whitewashed crosses, but also sounds like someone suffering in hell. Weirdly enough, it seems to give us a view at the sort of Christians that think they’re doing God’s work (holding the whitewashed crosses), but once they get started towards their destination, it becomes more and more obvious that they’re not being entirely truthful (sounding like a sinner in hell). 

I’m also struck by the mildness and neutrality in this sentence. Usually when someone’s talking about those in hell, the verb used is “screaming,” not “moaning.” Is this wishful thinking on the narrator’s part, or just a description of the truck’s engine using terminology he already knows? The narrator doesn’t seem to be passing judgement with this comparison either, it comes across as an observation rather than a condemnation of the neighbors’ actions. His family chose not to leave, their family is leaving right now, and those two actions aren’t compared or judged here.

*

This poem was chosen for the anthology because of the twisted biblical themes tempered by a slight homoerotic vibe. From the beginning of the Abrahamic religions to today, LGBt+ individuals have been left out of religious contexts at best and damned to hell at worst. Given the author’s experience as a gay trans man, I’m reading the narrator and the other “rural boy” as lovers. The poem contains many instances where the narrator invokes sacred and profane imagery in reference to the same objects or beings, and gives a new sort of “hot take’ on the biblical apocalypse - contributing perfectly to the theme of altered religion.

*

Bibliographical Information:

This poem was posted on Tumblr, and the original source is reblogged below. 

#boykeats #rural boys watch the apocalypse #poetry analysis

[creativityobsessed]

Be Brave Adachi, or the musical shaping of episodes 1-4

Part 4: Episode 4

This is part of a 4 part series. You may wish to start with part 1, where I introduced the main musical cue we’ll be following and how it represents Adachi questioning the world as he knew it. Or, if you missed part 2, or part 3, you might want to start there.  

If you would like to follow along, please cue up 13:15 in episode 4.*

HOO BOY does everything happen in Episode 4! I swear every time I went back to rewatch to check something I noticed 2 more things that were worth mentioning. Go get your drink of choice, we’re gonna be here a while.

Since we have so much to talk about, and there’s not much new going on, I’m going to gloss over the 1.5 rotations of Questioning that happen right after Adachi gets off the phone with Tsuge. Y’all probably recognize it by now, right? Right. 

The really interesting new stuff in this episode starts after Kurosawa rescues Adachi and Fujisaki, while they’re walking back to the office. Here, for the first time in full since episode 1, we get a repeat of the guitar music that I called Adachi-at-home in the first post in this series. Now, I’m gonna have to make a slight retraction because a) I didn’t know yet that this was gonna be important later, and b) it’s more interesting than I originally thought. So, to add some nuance, this guitar cue is not just Adachi when he’s on his own, fully relaxed, it’s that plus Adachi ruminating on how he doesn’t compare to Kurosawa. In the first case, he’s wishing for just one of Kurosawa’s good qualities. Here, he’s pointing out that they are “fundamentally different” with overtones of I am fundamentally worse than he is. The super interesting thing that I missed the first time around though is that this is the tune of the Home section. Sure it’s in C-sharp major (ish) rather than A major (not exactly a related key, but not an unrelated key either, at least if you ask Brahms^), but the melody is the same enough that I DEFINITELY should have caught that. What can I say, *shrug* pandemic brain.

So, anyways, given what I have since discovered about this guitar cue, I’d like to revise what I think it’s about - it’s about Adachi’s unacknowledged crush on Kurosawa. He still doesn’t realize yet that Kurosawa is something he wants, but moments like these show us just how much he wants it. 

Around 16:15, at the end of Fujisaki’s internal monologue in the elevator, Questioning comes in. This time, though, it’s not about Kurosawa in the slightest. When I was first trying to come up with a point to this series so my Intro to Musicology professor wouldn’t hunt me down for writing a “here’s some stuff” paper, I was all ready to say Kurosawa is the answer and call it a day. But if that’s the case, then why does Questioning start here? Sure, he just found out that Fujisaki knows about Kurosawa’s crush, but the worldview that he’s questioning isn’t that Fujisaki is more observant than he thought. It’s his reaction to her disinterest in relationships. Furthermore, this version of Questioning is far more stable than previous ones - instead of a tritone or other non-chord set of vertically stacked pitches, most of the Question phrases end on unison D, or some version of D + F-sharp (usually in the m6 orientation, rather than M3). Each Question phrase is approximately in time, or at least close enough that we have a sense of when the next will happen, where in the first few versions of Questioning the space between each phrase rotation felt indeterminate. I think what we’re seeing here is that even though Adachi still has questions, his life has already changed. He has a better sense of the people around him, and is less terrified of asking questions.

The Questioning section actually pauses when Kurosawa notices Adachi’s wound, and we don’t head into the next section immediately. In fact, we don’t ever get the next section here - we jump straight to Home, as Adachi starts back in on how much better Kurosawa is than him. It’s in the piano here, I think mostly so that they don’t have to change instrumentation midway through (we’ll see why in a second). This version of Home is the same slow tempo as the guitar version, and it’s very dry. All of the harmony is in block chords, which contributes to a kind of emptiness. But that’s ok because it doesn’t last. 

After a single (musical) sentence, Adachi begins to hear Kurosawa’s own self-loathing through his thoughts. As this happens, the chords that were once in blocks stretch out into arpeggios, filling in the spaces around the melody, in a move that reminds me so much of the way that letting go of a bit of anxiety can feel like unfurling from a tiny space.** Kurosawa’s “I’m sure he finds me annoying” is immediately followed by the addition of a cello line - and I’m about to go do some rewatching looking for where cello is important, but my first impression hypothesis is that cello represents Kurosawa’s inner headspace, particularly after some of the ways I noticed it being used in ep. 7. The cello twines around the piano line that we’re already familiar with, possibly as a metaphor for the way that Adachi and Kurosawa are having similar thoughts. And, as with earlier episodes, we end without a full resolution - we get a cadence, sort of, but the piano continues for a bit and ends with a cluster of notes with G as the main thing that catches our ear. For those unfamiliar, G is not a particularly tonic-feeling note in A major. It’s flat 7, which helps tremendously in feeling like we are NOT in major, better suited to the melancholy nature of the various thoughts flying around here. 

And then. Ok, and THEN. The part I have been writing this entire series to talk about. So, to set the scene, right? Adachi thanks Kurosawa, Kurosawa deflects but gives Adachi a direct, blinding smile, and for once Adachi doesn’t squint. He returns the smile. He has become comfortable here. 

As if that weren’t enough, the music comes in, and yes, we’re back to Questioning, but it is absolutely in time, with two beats of 6/8 between each iteration of the Question Phrase. Furthermore, this version has both guitar and glockenspiel in it - the guitar is Adachi’s home instrument, and here it suggests he’s become comfortable with questioning the world around him, while the glock does more to highlight the difference in the treatment of time. 

We don’t move on from this section for a bit, because Fujisaki interrupts his thoughts. We do, however, get hints of the next section - a rising line in the piano timed in the same way as the next section will start, for example. The underpinnings of the Questioning section provide a lush background for Adachi’s monologue on visiting Fujisaki’s mother, something the first version of Questioning could not have done. Adachi is being very brave here, and the changes to our favorite cue are a reflection of that. 

As he finishes we head in to the section of the piece, which is mostly accompanying shots of Fujisaki being overwhelmed, Adachi being worried that his attempt to be brave has gone wrong, and not much happening. There’s a weird loop in the middle, which makes me think that they tried it with the whole track and it felt waaaay too long without anything happening. 

Anyway, after she reassures him that his bravery is appreciated, we head into the Answer section. Adachi and Fujisaki’s chitchat isn’t what’s important here. The important thing is we have the Answer section, and here it is fully scored, electric guitar and bass, percussion, the works. Not only that, but the cue ends, and it ENDS ON THE TONIC. We did it folks! We found the resolution! And it turns out, the way to get there was to BE BRAVE.

This may not be the end of the whole series, but this is AN ending. This is the pan-out that we get at the end of every 90s Hollywood teen romcom. Adachi has Learned Something with capital letters, and it’s not that he loves Kurosawa or even that he needs to give up his low self-esteem. It’s that he can be brave, and he can contribute. It’s hard, and it may take four episodes of building to it, but he can do it.

Which is a lesson he’s really gonna need for the beginning of 5. But that’s a story for another time.

If you’ve followed my nerdery this far and you’ve enjoyed this series, please let me know via likes, replies, and/or reblogs. I may eventually continue the series if there’s enough interest (there’s some FASCINATING things that happen to this cue in episode 7, for example), but for now, I’m gonna go take a nap.

I did a follow up in response to an ask, if you really really want more.

*All video timings and quotes are from Irozuku Subs videos. If you’re watching somewhere else, your mileage may vary slightly.

^If you’re a SUPER HARD CORE theory nerd, look up Neo-Riemannian Theory for how this works. Or just if you want your brain to explode. Either way, have fun, cause I need it for my dissertation and I STILL don’t quite understand how it works.

**Not an Academically Approved metaphor. This is why I’m doing this on tumblr.

#cherry magic #cherry magic! thirty years of virginity can make you a wizard?! #adachi kiyoshi #music meta #For anyone who's actually read ALL OF THIS #thank you very seriously from the bottom of my heart #in case you were curious the google doc ended up 8 pages long #it would probably be more if I felt up for editing more #anyway really seriously thanks for putting up with my weirdo music theory nerd vibes CM fandom #I appreciate it

[nanowrimo]

3 Bad Writing Instincts and How to Transform Them into Good Instincts

As you begin revising your November novel, you’ll probably notice a lot more about your manuscript now that you’re looking at it with a critical eye—some good, some that needs reworking. Today, Municipal Liaison Rebekah Loper shares some good and bad writing instincts that may help you with your edits:

When you sit down with a blank page and a story idea, you’re bringing all the habits you’ve learned along the way, and those habits aren’t always good.

If you’re a new writer, you’re bringing along all that maybe-not-so-helpful advice everyone shared when you announced your book writing intentions. If those advice-givers haven’t actually written a book ever, ignore them.

Bad Instinct #1 – Explaining Too Much

Ah, the dreaded info dump. We’ve all read one, but it’s hard to catch ourselves while writing one. And for NaNoWriMo, we’ve told ourselves that any words are good words, so long as they get written, and this is true. You can’t fix an unwritten story.

Info dumps usually don’t become noticeable until we’re re-reading a draft, and they’re so challenging to get rid of because as the creator of our stories, we love what we write (mostly).

Good Instinct Alternative – Knowing Your Story & Its World

The knowledge contained in an info dump isn’t bad—it just doesn’t necessarily belong where it ended up. And yes, sometimes that information doesn’t belong in the story at all but it’s almost always something you, as the author, needed to know.

Learn how to tease your readers, only giving away information as necessary. For those info dumps you just can’t part with, pull them out of your story and put them in your story bible in case you need to reference it later.

Bad Instinct #2 – Mimicking Another Writer’s Voice

As you delve deeper into the world of writing and begin to study the processes of the craft, you’re going to stumble across advice telling you to find your own writing voice.

Finding the elusive, mythical creature known as ‘my writing voice’ was a daunting task when I first stumbled across this advice—especially since it was never well-defined. I remember being advised to read a lot, and learn to recognize other ‘writing voices’. While learning to recognize these can be a beneficial skill (especially if you ever want to be a ghostwriter), this never actually helped me write better stories.

It can also be tempting to try and sound like another author, particularly one you admire. But then, instead of telling your own unique stories, you start to tell someone else’s.

Good Instinct Alternative – Recognizing the Sound of Your Own Voice

��So how do I find my writing voice?” It’s actually simple—you write.

Your voice is already there. It’s not something you find, it’s a skill that you hone.

‘Writing voice’ is the way you phrase sentences, the cadence you naturally fall into. Often, you’ll find your writing voice is easy for you to read aloud, because it sounds like you.

Reading your own work aloud is a great way to refine your voice, especially in later drafts of a book. Take note of the places where you instinctively want to use a different turn of phrase, or a word just doesn’t quite mesh with what you were trying to convey. Then re-write it how you want to say it.

Bad Instinct #3 – Being Overly Protective of Your Story

No matter how experienced of a writer you are, the first time you send a new story out to critique partners, beta readers, or even an editor, you’ll be really nervous. For new writers especially, those nerves might start when you even think about sharing your work with someone else.

It can also happen when you find out someone else has written a story with a very similar premise to yours. Then you start wondering if, by the time your story is ready to be unleashed in the world, your words will even matter anymore. (They will. Even if premises are similar, no story told by two separate people could ever be the same.)

Those feelings might be so fierce you’re tempted to just shove your story in a drawer and forget it. But if you do that, you’ll never grow into your full potential.

Good Instinct Alternative – Recognizing the Value of Constructive Criticism

It’s okay to be selective about who sees your stories, especially in those very early drafts. Your critique partners (other writers, preferably) and beta readers should understand that the story is pretty raw at this point. No first draft (and rarely second or third drafts) is ever ready to be released wild into the world.

You will need to practice accepting feedback, especially from more experienced writers and readers who know your genre. You’ll need to learn how to recognize when a piece of feedback doesn’t actually apply to your story.

Trust your gut. Be selective in who you let read your work, and if a critique partner or beta reader just isn’t meshing well with your vision, don’t be afraid of ignoring their advice.

What bad instincts have you noticed in your own writing habits? Or, conversely, what good instincts came easily to you?

Rebekah Loper began creating fictional worlds and epic stories as a child and never stopped. Now she also helps inspire others to write their stories through her volunteer work as a NaNoWriMo Municipal Liaison, and with her workbook, The A-Zs of Worldbuilding: Building a Fictional World From Scratch. Her most recent release, a fantasy short story titled The Path of Mercy, is available in Beatitudes & Woes: A Speculative Fiction Anthology.

Rebekah lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma with her husband, a dog, two formerly feral cats, a flock of chickens, and an extensive tea collection. She is often found battling the elements in an effort to create a productive, permaculture urban homestead on a shoestring budget.

She blogs about writing and urban homesteading at rebekahloper.com, and has been a contributing writer for Fantasy-Faction.com. You can follow her on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

Top photo by Free To Use Sounds on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #writing #amwriting #editing #now what #revising #by nano guest #rebekah loper #revision

[dokidokivisual]

Gochiusa BLOOM episode 6 impressions

Previously: 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1

Oh no, we are already halfway through the season! Time sure flies fast, doesn’t it? Anyway, let’s see what the episode 6 had to offer.

The episode opens with the titular “fluffle of rabbits” (which supposedly is an actual term for a group of rabbits in parts of Northern Canada, but honestly that just sounds completely made-up. I mean rabbits don’t even live in Nothern Canada, or are they? but I digress) surrounding Sharo.

Sharo’s costume and her holding a flyer is a direct callback to a scene from season 1 episode 7 “Call me Sister” where Sharo has encountered Wildgeese while distributing fliers for Fleur du Lapin. It’s not really explained in the episode, but this time Sharo is on the job to pass out fliers as well, but is tolerating the rabbits for the sake of Chino.

The fact that rabbits (other than Tippy, Anko and Wildgeese) kind of avoid Chino is also a previously established trait, namely in season 1 episode 6, but it’s not mentioned very often. However it’s interesting to rewatch that part of season 1 episode (06:00 - 06:30 and 08:20 - 09:00), because it establishes a metaphor which is crucial for understanding the current one.

Basically the rabbits rejecting Chino symbolize her lack of sociability (called komyusho  コミュ障 or “communication disorder” in Japanese). While Chino thinks that the fact that the rabbits don’t run away has to do with Sharo being present, it’s actually explained by her personal growth over the last year or so.

In fact the theme for the entire episode can be summarized as “growth”. It’s fitting that rabbits are also a symbol of growth... in numbers at least.

After the OP, the story suddenly switches to Chimame’s middle school as they decide on a natural look for their graduation photo album. It’s another reminder of the passage of time, and the fact that Chimame-tai are about to become high schoolers in a few months. But it’s still October, and at least the manga takes its sweet time to get there.

By the way this pose is similar to Chimame “victory pose” from season 1 episode 5.

Megu decides that her hair type resembles Sharo’s and decides to ask her for advice. It might be hard to notice with their usual hairstyles, but if you look at Clockwork Rabbit Sharo you can see the resemblance. Coincidentally Sharo is getting a haircut right outside her home, so Megu hides behind a fire hydrant. In the manga she hides behind the corner of a building which I guess didn’t make sense given the geometry of the location. Then again, how large is this fire hydrant that Megu can easily hide behind it?

Sharo and Chiya eventually do spot her, and start fighting over who gets to do Megu’s hair. It turns out that they both cut each other’s hair, even though they’re not particularly satisfied with the result. The point of contention seems to be them cutting the bangs in a straight line, which is called pattsun ぱっつん in Japanese. Koi has previously mentioned this concept in volume 3 chapter 2 titled “Pattun Horizon”, which was adapted as part of season 1 episode 10. In that chapter Cocoa has a sleepover with Chiya and Sharo, and gets a matching pattsun to commemorate the occasion.

By the way there is an entire character song about Sharo having her hair cut by Chiya and it’s called  空色サロン (”Sky-colored salon”). It’s a really good song from the recent Blend of Letters album so check it out.

In the end, Megu gets her hair styled by Chiya’s grandma, using the same “thing” (probably a brush) she grooms Anko with. This also includes perming her curls straight. Unfortunately we don’t get to see how it went, and the scene switches to Maya right after. By the way, this manga chapter is called “Megu loses her tornado” (メグ、トルネードを失う).

Meanwhile Maya goes to a hair accessory shop to cover up her ahoge (”idiot hair”). Rize also happens to be there (implying that she might also be preparing for a graduation album photo) and tries to help Maya. She seems to carry some sort of hair conditioner with herself, although Maya’s ahoge is too strong for it. In the end they decide to buy matching hairpins.

Even though Rize holds a yellow hairpin and Maya a purple one, the back of the packaging is identical for both and indicates yellow color (黄). This is probably a mistake. The barcode number 8/08 140 2/14 160 indicates Maya and Rize’s birthday and height respectively (similar to Aoyama’s bounty in episode 3). I wasn’t able to read the QR code but maybe it encodes something as well.

Later when Rize scolds Maya she flicks a finger at her forehead (called dekopin でこピン in Japanese) while calling her DekoMaya (でこマヤ). Rize is basically implying that Maya has a big forehead, however it only got exposed because of the hair decoration she put on.

Finally it’s Chino’s turn. Apparently Chino usually cuts her hair herself. However this time she notices Tippy looking unusually fluffy and it turns out it was Cocoa who trimmed his fur (which is normally also done by Chino). Since angora rabbits were bred for their wool, it grows very fast, so unlike most other rabbit breeds it’s necessary to regularly trim it.

Chino becomes resolved to let Cocoa cut her hair, which makes her quite surprised and happy. Like Sharo and Chiya before, Chino is willing to put her trust in Cocoa, which shows how much their relationship has progressed. Cocoa tries to imitate a hair salon beautician, in particular the phrase “kayui tokoro wa gozaimasen ka?” (”does it itch somewhere?”) seems to be a staple phrase among Japanese hair stylists. This might be how Mocha used to cut her hair back home. Chino comments that Cocoa’s hair has grown longer, however it doesn’t look much longer than in previous episodes when in manga it was obviously longer:

The theme of growing hair corresponding to growth of a person is explored here. Mocha has very long hair, and Cocoa is thinking of growing her hair just as long to overcome her sense of inferiority. However regardless of hair length, we still see Cocoa being as immature as ever. For example she offers to hit her with a pico-pico hammer (pikohan) in case she makes a mistake. This toy is commonly featured in Japanese variety shows, and even in videogames, in fact it was invented in Japan by Masudaya toy company in 1968.

As I mentioned in episode 4 review, in the manga Cocoa only finds out that Chino has decided to go to her school at the end of this chapter. In this scene Cocoa doesn’t know it yet, and Chino when asked about it says she thought about joining Megu and Maya in Sharo’s school. This causes Cocoa to inadvertently cut Chino’s hair wrong. In the anime the dialogue is changed completely, but the end result is still the same. Chino learns that it’s inappropriate to joke around in certain situations, and Cocoa learns that longer hair doesn’t necessarily make you a good oneechan.

In the end Cocoa and Chino cut each other’s hair and Takahiro reassures them they did a good job after all. In the manga this hairstyle was labeled as つるてーん (tsuruten) which I think comes from the expression つんつるてん　tsuntsuruten which is used for clothing which is too short, for example pants being so short that lower legs are exposed. Perhaps it’s implied that they cut their bangs too short and too much of forehead is exposed.

In the end we get to see Chimame-tai’s final form. Megu’s change is the most radical as she did get a straight perm after all.

Now onto part B. It’s based on the same chapter as the opening scene with rabbits and Chino, namely volume 6 chapter 4. In the manga this scene follows directly after, which explains why Sharo is still wearing Fleur uniform there.

The original bread festival happened in season 1 episode 7 and was also advertised via distribution of leaflets. Here’s the original poster for comparison:

Compared to the original poster, Rabbit House is now spelled correctly, and “Welcome come on” is now written in English. Also Tippy is now singing a weird jingle (papan-pan-pan-pan-matsuri) which brings to mind Cocoa’s bread-themed Rabbit House theme song from Sing For You as well as Cocoa’s character song パンパカパンのパンのパーティー which features “welcome come on” and I guess was inspired by Cocoa’s bread festivals.

Soon, Aoyama and Rin turn up, still chasing each other since the previous episode. However the previous episode omitted an important detail about Rin from the manga chapter, which is that she doesn’t really like coffee. In the anime it’s revealed later, but it explains why nobody seems to care about Chino’s “special blend”. In response Chino turns into delinquent mode, with Wildgeese on her head instead of Tippy. 

The way Chino speaks changes too. Normally Chino always speaks in polite register, using desu and -masu verb forms at the end of the sentence. This is one of the defining characteristics of Chino since she’s the only character in the series to do this even in informal situations.

In this scene Chino switches to plain register, ending her sentence with da ze, which is a plain copula da followed by ending particle ze indicating forcefulness. This sentence ending is well known from the catchphrase yare yare da ze of Jotaro Kujo from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure.

When Wildgeese is replaced with Anko, Chino goes into a stupor. In the end it turns out Chino was playing along, and it was another of her “pranks”. Rize comments that Chino became just like Cocoa, perhaps recalling Cocoa’s breakdown in season 2 episode 10.

The bread festival is about to begin, and Chino still seems to be upset, even though Cocoa praises her (too late). Cocoa herself also seems to be unsure of her bread’s quality (especially compared to her sister).

For some reason, Sharo is in the mood for some coffee and orders Chino’s special blend. This causes everyone else to order it too. Maybe Sharo felt bad for Chino in the earlier scene and took one for the team?

Anyway, Chino’s coffee is very pretty and features a flower made from whipped cream (for which there’s an official tutorial how to make it). I guess this ties into the theme of BLOOM, however in the manga it was also a flower and it was probably written before the season 3 title was decided.

Sharo tastes Chino’s coffee and ends up in “paradise”. You might notice, with the field of flowers and flower wreaths it also fits into the BLOOM theme.

Seeing this reaction, Rin also decides to order coffee. Rize responds with “but you said you don’t like coffee”, but she never says this in anime. Unless it was supposed to be an off-screen conversation? Anyway, Rin also enjoys Chino’s coffee, and the “warmth” she put into it. Chino, who originally had a rather cold personality takes this praise to heart.

It turns out that there were many customers other than the regular characters (which doesn’t happen often in Rabbit House). Lots of children too, who seem to particularly like Chino as has been previously established. Chino shows them how to make latte art, promising to make a “fluffy rabbit” which might be a reference to the rabbit she draws in the ED of this episode.

Cocoa also has a self-reflection moment when she decides she doesn’t have to be like her sister because Chino looks up to Cocoa anyway. Cocoa explains that can’t distinguish Chino’s blends of coffee because they’re all similarly delicious to her. Considering she misidentifies one of Chino’s blends as instant coffee in the first episode there are reasons to doubt this confession. It works on Chino though who can hardly contain her happiness.

Despite all the praise heaped on her, Chino is still not sure if she’s changed. However as she comes out to take down the signboard, a lone rabbit approaches Chino and doesn’t run away.

Under the warm sunset colors, Chino gives a “warm” welcome to the rabbit, referencing the episode’s title (though it was just one rabbit, not a “fluffle” of them) and giving a conclusion to this arc. As I explained in the beginning, the rabbit is a symbol of Chino becoming more approachable over the past few episodes. She is also now seen as a grownup by those who are smaller than her, such as children and, well, rabbits.

So that was a “growth” episode of Gochiusa BLOOM, and the next episode (which is Halloween-themed) promises to be quite important as well.

Oh, and poor Rize’s pasta... Nobody seem to have ordered or even mentioned it. I’m sure it was delicious as well. Can we get a Rize appreciation episode please?

#gochiusa #gochuumon wa usagi desu ka? #is the order a rabbit? #review