#/it was really fucking difficult not to write an entire novel here
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considering each of the mxtx main pairings, which do you think would be most fun as a f/f ship, and please also talk about why (and what, if anything, changes about the dynamics)
Excellent question that I'm not yet fully qualified to answer bc I still haven't read the entirety of TGCF - but I'm pretty sure that my opinion on this won't change even once I have. I just think that the objectively correct answer here is Bingqiu.
I mean, from what I've gathered from the first 2.5 volumes of TGCF, F/F Hualian is like... partly canon anyways, due to the general gender stuff TGCF gods seem to have going on. And Wangxian would be interesting mostly due to the fact that the MDZS universe seems to be the most sexist one out of MXTX's universes, but I'm personally a little tired of Narratives About Historical Sexism. I'm absolutely deeply in love with fem!Xie Lian and Lan Wangji and I would let both fem!Hua Cheng and the Yiling Matriarch step on me, but the thing is.
Bingqiu.
BINGQIU. F/F Bingqiu fucks so hard! LIKE. OKAY. The thing about Scum Villain is that this story happens on approximately five different layers. You have the actual "reality" of what is happening in Scum Villain, including the emotions and experiences of the characters, but this "reality" is also shaped by the fact that it's a novel, and a particular genre of novel (a stallion novel at first and a danmei novel later on). There is a meta level built into the story. On top of that, you have the additional layer of the original PIDW plot, which again is driven by the conventions of its genre. These are all layers Shen Qingqiu is aware of! But there's ALSO the world Shen Yuan and Airplane are from, and their experiences in that world, including the tropes they know of and the internet they interact with, direct their actions in the world of PIDW as well as the way PIDW itself was written. And then there's obviously the actual meta level, the one that we and MXTX are on, where MXTX writes trope subversions and commentary on webnovel genres and internet culture that we as readers can pick up on. I love Scum Villain.
Anyways, all that means that if you change something as fundamental to the narrative as the gender of its main characters (bc gender dynamics are pretty damn important for a story that is in part about male power fantasies), you have to adjust every single one of those layers. Which I think is dope.
Luo Binghe has a lot of character traits, but on the first meta level, Luo Binghe is primarily the protagonist! So if Luo Binghe is a woman, PIDW can't be a stallion novel. What, then, is PIDW? I think there are a bunch of different options, and every single one creates a slightly different dynamic! Additionally, every single one creates a very slightly different Shen Yuan, AND - and this is vitally important to me - every single one creates different commentary on the second meta level. Subversion and commentary are such a huge part of what Scum Villain is (and what Bingqiu are) that I, at least, want that layer to stay intact in this AU.
I've talked about this before, I think, but I want to talk about it more. Scum Villain is in part about the effects male power fantasies have on men! If PIDW were a reverse harem novel targeted at straight women, for example, Scum Villain might be about the effects female power fantasies have on women! You'd have Luo Binghe, who can have everything she wants bc she's the protagonist, but whose life has to be centred around romances with various men. I'd love to read a deconstruction of the reverse harem genre, bc it's such an alienating type of story for me as a lesbian - like, this type of female power fantasy hinges on the protagonist being attractive and attracted to men; it's unimaginable to have a classic female power fantasy without a romance with a man! On the other hand, PIDW as an erotic novel targeted at men would create so much fun commentary on sapphic sexuality. That's probably my favourite version of F/F Bingqiu, so I'm picking that dynamic to talk about in-depth:
Shen Yuan, in this, hate-reads a bad porn novel where the badass female protagonist - her favourite - is objectified and over-sexualised on every second page and exists to be masturbation material for the primarily straight male audience. I imagine that she writes a lot of rants in the comment section about how sexist PIDW is and how Luo Binghe would be an exceptional female character if she weren't the protagonist of a porn novel.
Luo Binghe, protagonist of a porn novel, after the Abyss starts to utilise her looks and her sexuality to make her way to the top. In the Scum Villain setting, of course, she's however deeply in love with Shen Qingqiu, who unfortunately is the only person her seduction techniques don't work on – because Shen Qingqiu is horribly attracted to Luo Binghe, but can’t detach her perception of Luo Binghe as attractive from the objectifying descriptions she read in the original novel. She already brainwashed herself into believing that she was never affected by Luo Binghe in writing, just disgusted by the fanservice, and now she brainwashes herself even harder bc Luo Binghe is a real person she knows now and not a sex symbol to get off to. (Plus, she’s into the submissive pouty housewife act! That’s even worse! She’s not even close to admitting she’s into women at all, she has to brainwash her way out of that!)
Meanwhile, everyone wants Luo Binghe except for the one person Luo Binghe wants to want her! I imagine that would mess with her head, especially after Shen Qingqiu’s death. Her relationship with her own sexuality is also pretty messed up, because her experience with it is focused on making herself desirable to other people, not on her actual desires. Luo Binghe, who only knows how to perform for the male gaze and gets no satisfaction from that vs. Shen Qingqiu, who can’t deal with the fact that she feels sexual attraction to a woman written for the male gaze. I think that sounds suitably disastrous for Bingqiu, and I feel like these are also extremely common wlw experiences. Layers! I want them to kiss, and I want them to kiss on the meta level! (And I want Luo Binghe to become comfortable with being seductive for the person she actually desires, and Shen Qingqiu to admit that she wants Luo Binghe.)
Finally, I think that there's one aspect of Scum Villain that would work better if Bingqiu were women, and that's Airplane. Like, PIDW is bad because Airplane had to abandon every notion of writing a serious, good story in order to make enough money to eat. In the end, the changes Shen Qingqiu makes to the novel are much closer to the original outline and Shang Qinghua is pretty satisfied with them. But like, danmei is a popular genre. Internationally popular, by now! You can make money with danmei! I think that particular message would be a bit more poignant if PIDW ended up as a baihe - the kind of story you wouldn't tell if you wanted to make money.
#/thanks for enabling my lesbian bingqiu obsession#/it was really fucking difficult not to write an entire novel here#/tl;dr: the answer is BINGQIU A MILLION TIMES#[epistulae ad atticum]#girls night girls night girls night#genderbend#svsss
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Shen Yuan’s “proof” that he’s straight is that he willingly read PIDW.
Yes, Shen Qingqiu insisted that he was still straight! His willingness to read a stallion novel like Proud Immortal Demon Way was rock-solid proof!
- SVSSS, Volume 3, Chapter 17
We could use this same logic to argue that a willingness to write a stallion novel like PIDW is rock-solid proof of straightness, but... uh... yeah. Shen Yuan tried to get Airplane Bro to be a little upset with him that Luo Binghe is gay now earlier and Airplane Bro just fucking shrugged.
The entire SQQ & SQH conversation in the underground palace Chapter 14 is pretty golden (“Since when did we have a friendship?” - Shang Qinghua about selling Shen Qingqiu out to Luo Binghe) and it’s tempting to copy all of it here, but I’ll limit myself to just a section of it:
“The stallion novel protagonist you wrote turned gay,” said Shen Qingqiu. “Shouldn’t you be angry?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Shang Qinghua said sincerely. “Either way, the one he’s got his eye on isn’t me.”
Shen Qingqiu gave him a cordial middle finger, then looked back down to polish his sword.
Shang Qinghua gave him a thumbs-up. “Really, you don’t need to be so pessimistic. You have good prospects for the future, quite good prospects. Those golden thighs, they’re thick and sturdy, very reliable!”
“Take your fucking golden thighs,” said Shen Qingqiu. “At least those are just thighs. Where have I ended up? Between the thighs!”
“Between the thighs is even better, ah. A man’s most important object is between the thighs.”
If not for the fact that Xiu Ya had only just returned to Shen Qingqiu’s hands and he couldn’t bear to use it for filthy things, he really had the mind to slice off a chunk of that object between Shang Qinghua’s thighs.
- SVSSS, Volume 3, Chapter 14
I would personally not say that Airplane Bro sounds very straight here.
By the way, half of the underground palace gets destroyed later on, because Liu Qingge comes looking for Shen Qingqiu to rescue him (Shen Qingqiu has been kidnapped by Tianlang-Jun twice at this point). Liu Qingge tries to interrogate Sha Hualing but has difficulty beating up a woman and Sha Hualing is just difficult. Liu Qingge then runs into Shang Qinghua, who is apparently just chilling in the underground palace, and who spills all the beans immediately before Liu Qingge can hit him once, and then starts wailing about how he had not choice and he’ll mend his ways. Which, of course, summons Mobei-Jun to come to his rescue. Mobei-Jun and Liu Qingge get in a fight and Luo Binghe’s house gets halfway destroyed.
Which is, like, a side paragraph to explain how Liu Qingge showed up. The main SVSSS story, of course, features things like Tianlang-Jun asking if Shen Qingqiu has a preference for threesomes because of the Zhuzhi & Binghe thing and then the Qingge & Binghe thing. Incredible.
#tossawary svsss#tossawary rereads svsss#shen yuan#shang qinghua#cucumberplane#bingqiu#moshang#mobei jun#liu qingge#tianlang jun#zhuzhi lang#spoilers
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Hello there! :D If u dont mind, can i req platonic friendship hcs for luxiem? where gn!reader looks up to them as an older brother figure? +bonus points if they also have a chaotic personality >:D Have a great day~
Big-brother Figure HC
Pairing: Vox, Mysta, Luca, Ike, Shu x gn! reader
Category: Fluff, heehee haha funni
Warning: C h a o s .
Summary: Platonic relationship with the Luxiem members :D
A/N: Hi hi! That is such as cute idea! I can already imagine the chaos before even starting to write lol Anyways thank you for the request :D
Vox Akuma
He tries his very very very very very best not to bring in sussy conversations while you are around, since you're like his little-sibling figure
It's very fucking difficult for him to not straight up yell something like FORKIN- *** **** ***** ***, but he really R E A L L Y tries his best (c'mon you gotta give him some slack for trying this hard)
Even though you might already have learnt it from other Niji members (mr satan here might choke those specific members if he finds out)
But Vox also takes care of you very well
Like he'd go out of his way just to make sure you have the best meals every day
Overall, I think Vox would be a very caring but yet very protective big-brother figure
Mysta Rias
You'd be making fun of him A LOT (like real siblings lol) and also pick on him specifically
Like in every roast tier list, Mysta's in the "bullied" tier, and you're the living proof of that.
Say if you're playing Crab Game, you'd specifically throw a snowball at him out of nowhere, causing him (using his webcam mic that makes him sound like he's in the middle of a damn hurricane) to scream like he's stuck between the fabric of reality and the backrooms
Basically like this: "WHAAA WHA%#%@"#*@ WHO THE %##*@/× FUCK ^@!~# DID&פ^#*!/£₩※THAT /£&&$)#(@#:"
Meanwhile you: "MUHYAHYAHYAHAYYAHAYAGHAGSSBABBA L L L L L L"
And if Mysta is cooking, just like Vox his Mysta's cooking stream, you'd scold him for cooking in such uhhhhh c u r s e d ways
“Mysta, for the love of Riku Tazumi, by “pour oil into the pan”, doesn’t mean to fill the entire pan with oil.”
Overall, chaotic sibling-like relationship with Mysta :)
Luca Kaneshiro
The most chaotic duo in NijiEN
You two would both pull pranks and say random deez nuts, ligma jokes to other members
Whenever you two take part in collabs (especially large ones), I can imagine you both causing so much mischief that everyone would be screaming your names while chasing you two who are laughing your butts off (I love his laugh it’s so goofy)
He’d teach you his ways of pogging
Say if you’re playing Minecraft, you two would probably place lava traps in front of the doors of every house, before hiding nearby to see the other members scream when they fall into the trap
Basically he’s gonna troll with you all the time :)
Ike Eveland
Just like Vox, very caring but very protective
He really enjoys reading you the novels he wrote and making you caviar toast. Even if you dislike caviar, he (tries) to not be too disappointed in you lol
Ike also like to teach you how to write novels and how to speak some Swedish words
And usually when you did well when he’s teaching you things, he’d give you a headpat :3
Usually if some other members say something a bit sussy, broski would look d e a d into their eyes while having both hands covering both of your ears, before politely telling you to go somewhere else for the meantime. Then he'd threaten whoever did that in front of you.
I like it when he goes psychopath mode. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Shu Yamino
You’d definitely greet each other with “eyyyyyyyyyyyyy” everytime you meet lol
If you’re a smart person, you’d probably be talking about maths or something in the middle of a game.
“There are two boxes blocking that so if we double it we can cover the whole thing.”
“Yea but there isn’t enough space to place 4 boxes there, maybe 3.46 boxes can work.”
“Seems like 3.48 would work better.”
“BUT IT’S JUST A 0.02 DIFFERENCE-” (made-up scenario lol)
The whole time chat would be spamming the nerd emoji 🤓🤓🤓
You, Shu and Petra would get along very well too, since Petra is like a sister figure to Shu
Happy penguin siblings :D
#riyugu writing#yorutenshi riyugu#nijisanjien#nijisanjien x reader#luxiem#luxiem x reader#nijisanji#nijisanji x reader#luxiem x reader fluff#vox akuma#vox akuma x reader#mysta rias#mysta rias x reader#luca kaneshiro#luca kaneshiro x reader#ike eveland#ike eveland x reader#shu yamino x reader#shu yamino
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Nom De Plume | Part One
Nom De Plume Masterlist
Summary: Filming is scheduled to begin in a few days and you find yourself posing as Assistant Script Writer during the first table read of your script.
Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Reader
Warnings: Some Fluff, Some Awkward Reader, Austin With a Cajun Accent, Vague Understanding of Movie Production, Excessive Use of Ellipsis
Author's Note: Welcome to Part One! I've made the decision to write Austin's dialogue to reflect his Cajun accent, I apologize if that makes it difficult to read.
Word Count: 5676
»» ────── ஓ ๑ ✧ ๑ ஓ ────── ««
“This was a mistake” you hissed to script writer Pearce McCarthy as you walked into the expansive conference room at Pinewood Studios outside London.
A large square of tables with a copy of the script waiting in front of each chair anchored the space. Additional chairs lined the walls. The room was full of beautiful people, buzzing with the sound of greetings and conversation. You did not belong here.
It was an idea born at 3:36 AM, halfway into a celebratory bottle of gin. Pearce had been agonizing over the sole responsibility of protecting the script you two had laboured on over the past year. The script based on the novel that you had laboured on for three years before that.
“I do not want to give up my normal life for this! I published under a pseudonym for a very sound reason, and I am loathe to blow that up!” You had argued.
“But if they don’t do it right, how would we fucking live with ourselves?!” He had been remarkably close to tears, and you had found yourself blinking back your own.
“It’s not like I can just pretend to be someone else on set, Pearce. I trust you, and I’ll always have my phone ready.” You had tried to reason, tried to reassure.
He had looked up to you, blinking his bleary eyes to focus.
“But why can’t you? Hide in plain sight!!” He had declared and despite the heated five-day-long argument that ensued, here you were, assistant to the script writer, arriving for the first table read of the assembled cast.
“You’re going to do great.” He patted your shoulder, guiding you to one of the chairs along the wall, behind the director. He took a seat beside you, adjusting the waistband of his black jeans to ensure they sat just right beneath his button up and sweater combo. “This is the best way for you take gain experience and you are the right person for the job.” He continued, smoothing his hand along his black hair that now sported a shock of silver at each temple. Writing with you was apparently a stressful experience.
What a damn liar. He should be an actor at the main table, you thought bitterly as you pulled your own well-worn copy of the script from your bag. You lay the binder across your denim-clad knees, grateful again that Pearce had at least had the decency to help you dress the part. A pair of nicer jeans and a blouse. You fit right in with the rest of the production staff. Actors, it seemed, were able to dress down a little more…hoodies, long-sleeved t-shirts…You supposed it was because they would eventually be in costume.
A rainbow of sticky notes fanned out from the pages in your binder, colour-coded by filming location. This entire process was foreign to you. But, you tried to remind yourself, so was writing a novel and you had managed that. Restricted to writing outside your working hours, it had been slow going, but the story had quite simply possessed you and you really hadn’t had much say in the matter. While you had not been able to afford a trip to France for research into your main character Yvette, you had spent a week in Louisiana. You had also taken some lessons in Cajun French which had been crucial in defining who exactly the love interest of the story, Antoine Thibodeaux, was.
And your novel had done well. You’d had a choice of several publishers and ended up with an extremely proactive agent who had negotiated film rights, with the option for you to work with the script writer. All before the book had been officially released. For something that had been entirely yours for years to suddenly become so public had left you feeling quite naked. Even though the triumphant novel had been published under your pen name – Sloan Thornton. You were a private person, a normal person, with a regular career and regular hobbies. Truthfully, the idea of a public life terrified you, and never seemed to be one of much happiness for those under the intense scrutiny of fame. You simply had had a story to tell and had not wanted that to ruin your life.
The buzz in the room swelled in excitement as a wave of expensive perfume wafted past you, making you raise your head. The tall, slender frame of a gorgeous brunette stood to your right, holding court as everyone called out greetings to her. Cloé Elgin. She certainly had the look of Yvette, with her fine, French features courtesy of her French model of a mother. Though she would need some flattening out to reflect the main character at her lowest. She was actively basking in the attention, wearing a green silk wrap dress and precipitously tall heels. By far the best-dressed person there and she knew it.
Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a head of sandy-blonde, tousled waves making its way from the back of the room. You turned to focus on the owner of said hair properly and swallowed thickly to see Austin Butler, cast to play Antoine, greeting his leading lady. Oh, but they did look good together…you pressed your hand to your stomach as you felt suddenly emotional about the whole thing. Pearce elbowed you in the side in an I-told-you-so gesture which you returned with an icy glare, all the while fighting the urge to smile.
Greta Gerwig, director, took a seat and the rest of the room followed suit.
“Welcome, everyone, to the first table read for At Any Cost. I hope you are all as excited as I am to re-define what a collaborator really was. Let’s start with introductions.”
You sat up straighter and took notice as people began giving their names and job titles, wanting to be a good colleague. Well, as good as one could be considered when they were a liar.
Cloé introduced herself with a French accent that you knew was one she had been working on for the role. You had watched her other films when you’d received the casting report. She didn’t have many impressive credits under her belt, but she was young, and you trusted that Greta knew what she was doing. Besides, Austin Butler had been little more than a sporadic TV role pretty boy until he landed Elvis. The past did not define the future. All eyes moved to him as it was his turn next.
“I’m Austin Butler, I play tha role o’ Antoine Thibodeaux.” He drawled in his swamps-of-Louisiana, Cajun-French laced accent, also built for his role.
There was an overabundance of saliva in your mouth, and you swallowed thickly, looking down as he made a point of making eye contact with everyone in the room. You were blushing like a schoolgirl, and it was mortifying. The introductions continued and you grew increasingly nervous as your turn was approaching. Five words. You could manage this. Pearce gave his name and title before looking to you expectantly and you took a steadying breath before saying your full, real name. There was a thrill of terror in your chest before you quickly added your job title.
“Assistant Script Writer.” You schooled your face into a smile and turned to look at the person sitting to your right.
You were vaguely aware of the flash of azure blue eyes on the periphery of your vision. Aware that they were trained on your face. You firmly kept your gaze on the Continuity supervisor, Meredith, as she then looked to her assistant. You felt a little relief as the introductions came to an end and everyone focused on the scripts before them again. Paper. You were so much better on paper.
Unfortunately, it did not get any easier for you from there. The emotion that had fluttered to life in your stomach as you had laid eyes on the leading couple only swelled as the story, your story, began coming to life. It was by no means polished or perfect, it was after all the first time everyone was testing this out together. It felt more like a radio play, and it was punctuated by the dead-pan voice of the assistant director reading staging directions. But the characters who had lived only inside your head, or in theoretical conversations with Pearce, were speaking.
Greta and yourself, as Sloan, had been insistent that Yvette and the characters in France would speak in French. Antoine would speak mainly in English, with Cajun French phrases mixed in. You had gotten around the language issue in the novel by italicizing any dialogue in a language other than English. Well, not all. You had used that online course in Cajun French to include some phrases in Antoine’s dialogue. But film, film was entirely different. Thankfully, the studio had arranged for you and Pearce to submit lines intended to be delivered in French and German for professional translation with a strong emphasis on the language of the time period.
The script sounded good. It flowed and it felt authentic. You had a pencil in your hand, tracking along with the words as they were spoken, circling problematic things, underlining things you really liked. And sniffling a little as tears of awe pricked the corners of your eyes. What a sap you were turning out to be. About halfway through, Greta called a bio break and trays of sandwiches were carried in. You quickly wiped at your eyes before checking your watch, shocked to see that it was near one o’clock already.
Pearce leaned in and flipped back a few pages in your script, tapping a phrase you had circled.
“See I thought that fell flat, too.” He muttered.
“Yeah, one for the military geeks but it doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the story hmmm?” You scribbled a note in the margin to revisit it. “We should replace it with something more meaningful to their relationship.”
Pearce opened his mouth and took a breath to speak but when nothing came out you raised your head and inhaled sharply to see Austin standing right in front of the two of you.
“I’m so sorry ta interrupt, I was just…well I was wonderin’ if it would be all righ’ to run some things by ya, Pearce?”
You pressed your lips together and looked to Pearce, trying to ignore the way Austin’s cologne enveloped you and invaded your senses. Was that a hint of cedar?
“Of course, Mr. Butler, any time.” He replied warmly and Austin snagged an empty chair, turning it to sit in front of the pair of you.
“Oh please, call me Austin.” He sat with his legs spread generously and you did your best to focus on the script in your lap rather than on his lap. “I jus’ wanted ta be sure I was getting’ tha emotion righ’ when Antoine is talkin’ ‘bout his family. I read it with a sense o’ stubborn pride but…well I know ya had tha opportunity to work with tha author…”
Your grip on your pencil cut off the circulation to your fingertips, making the skin turn white.
“…and I wondered if ya had any insight on tha Thibodeaux family as a whole?” He finished.
“Of course, yes. I think stubborn pride nails it right on the head. The Acadians did not have a very good run of it, so there is that aggressive self-sufficiency. Would you agree?” Pearce turned to look at you and you raised your head again. “What do you think Sloan would say?”
Your lips trembled a little before you cleared your throat, acutely aware of the fact that Austin was bathing you in his undivided attention.
“I think…she would say the same. There’s a pride that they don’t need anyone’s help. They carved a living out of the swamp, and they might not have money but they do have abundance. Friends, family, food. That’s all the riches they need, and they’re proud of it. So…so I think you have the right tone for that line. Austin.” You risked a moment of eye contact and felt fairly blinded by the brilliance of his relieved grin.
“Fantastic, great. Thank ya verra much. Would ya, the two of ya, mind if I tapped into yer expertise from time ta time? I jus’…really liked tha book and I want ta get it righ’.”
You flushed with pride and nodded quickly, quite speechless at that.
“Of course…we both had the opportunity to work closely with Sloan on the script and we are here to make sure her novel is at the heart of this film.” Thank god Pearce was able to reply.
The tabs on the edges of your script fluttered under his exploratory fingers.
“Yer verra organized.” Austin remarked in awe, speaking gently as though you were a skittish cat.
“Thank you, I…well I’m a bit new to all this. Very grateful for Pearce’s guidance.” You smiled softly. “Each colour is for a different location. Of course, I’ll add more once it gets mores specific but…”
“Hey Aus…” Cloé purred as she curled her fingers into his shoulder, having suddenly appeared with a plate of sandwiches. “I grabbed you some food, come eat.”
She didn’t even acknowledge Pearce…or yourself – not that you expected that given your role on the production team.
“Thank ya both, again.” Austin said warmly, shaking hands firmly with Pearce before offering his hand to you.
You slid your hand into his, swallowing as he cupped it in both of his warm, broad palms as he shook it. He made his excuses and followed after Cloé to settle back in their seats at the table.
“Anything you want me to avoid?” Pearce asked as he stood, and you scrambled to your feet.
“Assistant. I should get your food. No bell peppers, right?” You asked and once you received a nod in the affirmative you headed to the back of the room to fetch some sandwiches for the two of you.
Once everyone had a chance to eat, the table read resumed and you lost yourself completely in your task, the rest of the afternoon melting away. The room erupted into applause as the last line of the script was read and you straightened slowly, pulling yourself back into your body.
“Sounds an awful lot like a good movie, no?” Pearce grinned at you, and you smiled brightly in reply.
“We still have polishing to do though…it can be better…” You replied, glancing back down at your notes.
“Yes, yes. That’s tomorrow’s problem.” He laughed and you collected your things as everyone began filing out. Some headed home, some headed to their offices to work a few more hours.
You smiled shyly as Austin caught your eye on his way out, offering you a minimalist wave of an open palm rotating once to the right. You responded with a similar gesture before Cloé inserted her arm through his, hugging his bicep as she led him out babbling about how they were staying in the same building.
“I’ll see you tomorrow? My mum has insisted I come home for dinner…we’re only in England for six more weeks, right?” He huffed dramatically and you laughed brightly.
“Stop complaining and go eat your roast beef and Yorkshire puddings.” Shaking your head, you saw him off before heading to the office you two shared.
You laid out the scripts on the table, unable to stop yourself from looking over the notes he had taken throughout the day. Pearce had script writing credits on many big-name pictures, and you valued his opinion highly. Yet he had also been so utterly and completely generous with his time and expertise, truly listening to your input and walking through how to get across the feeling from your book in the very different medium of film.
The vibration of your phone startled you out of your review of the notes and you laughed brightly as it was a series of text messages from Pearce in all-caps demanding you go home that instant. You tidied up a little and locked the office before heading down to catch the shuttle bus to Slough station. Pearce had timed his message just right, ensuring you caught the last run. The shuttle was packed, as usual. You’d never found a time when it wasn’t.
All told, it was only fifteen minutes before you were in your one-bedroom flat in Slough. It was not cheap, but you considered the price worth protecting the integrity of your novel. You did your best to distract yourself with some leftover take-out and TV before eventually giving in to your baser urges and scribbling frantically in your notebook as ideas were born to address the notes both you and Pearce had made from the reading that day.
After less than enough sleep, you headed back in the next morning eager to iron out the wrinkles. Pearce was waiting, with tea freshly brewed and leftovers courtesy of his mum in the mini fridge in the corner of the office. The hallways were packed, buzzing with activity as departments were ramping up for the start of filming in two days. There were so many knocks, people needing copies of scripts or clarifications or confirmations, that you two left the door open as you dug into the pinch points of the script.
There was an easy flow between you and Pearce. You riffed off one another, throwing out bits of dialogue until something would fall into place.
“But how do you kill a gator? Or, uh, a cocodrie?” You rolled your eyes as you immediately hated the line, even with the Cajun French, and Pearce crinkled his nose with a head shake.
“Why would you take on something with so many teeth?” He replied and you both sighed as it just…wasn’t…
“Who decided that the predator should become the prey?” You offered after a moment of silence and you both jumped as Austin’s voice replied from the doorway.
“A verra, verra hungry man, cherie. Nothin’ can dissuade that kinda man from a meal. Not even a rotten maw packed full o’ teeth.”
Turning back to look at him, your throat constricted as you saw him standing there in full paratrooper uniform. A uniform with every fold and patch and detail you had dutifully described. It was more than a little surreal, especially now that he was in costume. Antoine made flesh. You were vaguely aware of Pearce making sounds. Sounds that resembled your name. He was saying your name.
“Shit, sorry Pearce.” You turned back to your laptop, frantically typing out the lines next to each other.
“Nah, I should apologize I jus’ waltzed in here unannounced.” Austin murmured guiltily. “Jus’ walkin’ around, gettin’ a feel for tha costume. I should leave ya to it…”
“Hey no, thank you we were really stuck there. I think that’s got it?” Pearce looked in your direction and you nodded quickly, hitting save.
You braced yourself and turned back to look at Austin with a smile.
“Thank you, you just startled me is all. We’ll get the updated pages out as soon as possible, just need to send them off to translation.” You bit your lip as him in that costume was still overwhelming even when you’d prepared yourself for it.
He relaxed a little, smiling in relief before stepping into the room fully. You had put up notes, reference images, and cast photos around the room to create a visually inspiring space. Polishing was probably the most difficult part of the writing process – something that novel and script writing actually had in common. So, anything you could do to help the exercise was effort well spent.
There was a knock on the door as Emily from the production office asked Pearce to step into the production meeting and he stood.
“Start thinking about that male bonding scene while they’re waiting to fly out, that scene is filming in two weeks.” He shook his finger as you made a face. Male bonding was not something that came naturally to yourself or Pearce.
You tensed as you heard a chuckle off to your right and bit your lip as you remembered Austin was still prowling about.
“Of course, see you when you get back.” You quickly dashed off the email to the translators before turning your script pages to the scene that needed a little more…authenticity? Life?
“It didn’ quite…flow did it…” Austin commented as he assumed Pearce’s armchair beside you, and you shook your head with a frown.
“It wasn’t bad when we submitted the script to the director but…well we...Sloan and Pearce agreed it could be better.”
You held your breath as he leaned in closer to read the faint pencil scratches of your notes from the table read. The scent of rosewood and cinnamon mingled in the air around him, flooding your senses as a blush warmed its way across your cheeks and down your throat past the neck of your shirt.
“Forced joviality, calm mask over terror…” He read the notes aloud and you looked to him quickly, impressed that he could decipher your scribbles.
“Right…it can’t just be a conversation; it needs to do something. Show how they’re pretending not to be terrified but also that they are close so that when they suddenly show up to rescue Antoine you…”
“It’s nah jus’ out o’ tha blue, it makes sense ‘cuz o’ their connection.” He finished your statement, his eyes meeting yours thoughtfully.
“I’m…” You cut yourself off before your words gave you away. “… am also aware that Sloan is terrified of this scene just reading like Band of Brothers. There was a lot of debate about putting it in the film. But it’s necessary.” You chewed on the end of your pencil, a filthy habit that you just could not give up.
“When was tha last time ya watched Band o’ Brothers?” He asked, fingers fishing into one of his many utility pockets before producing his phone.
“Mmmm probably a year ago since this issue last came up?” You tilted your head looking at him curiously.
“All righ’ so…let’s watch it ‘n’ write down all tha things that make it unique.”
He propped his phone up against the screen of your laptop and pressed play on episode one as you stared in disbelief. This man was the lead actor of the film and here he was trying to help you…you who he thought was just a script assistant, get over your nerves. People weren’t like this in normal life, were they?!
“There’s two…tarmac scenes if I remember correctly…because the first jump was called off…Near the end of the episode…” You murmured awkwardly, feeling the need to say something in the face of his generosity.
Using his remarkably long and shapely forefinger, he scrubbed the video forward until he found the spot you were looking for. You grabbed some scrap paper and offered him some pages and a fresh pen before the two of you began quickly taking notes as the scene played on his phone screen.
As the planes took off, he pressed pause and looked to you. You both had jotted words and a few phrases to describe it.
“A lot more serious than I remembered…” You muttered and he nodded quickly.
“I think, if ya ‘n’ Pearce still went with tha veneer of humour it’ll get tha point across, be different, achieve yer goals.”
You smiled a little in relief and nodded. “Any male bonding tips?” You laughed ruefully.
“Mockery. Men make fun o’ each other when they bond, usually.”
“So maybe…jabs about things that happened during training…that show how long they’ve known each other…” You chewed the poor pencil again, oblivious to the way his eyes were tracing the shape of your mouth.
There was another knock on the door and Austin suddenly looked very guilty.
“Sorry Sue, I got distracted.” He apologized to a woman you recognized as working in wardrobe. “You’ve got some good ideas, thanks fer lettin’ me try ma hand at this” He grinned, and you shook your head quickly.
“Thank you so much for your help.” You replied earnestly.
“Ma pleasure.” His boyish grin made your heart skitter in your chest wildly. “I’ll see ya ‘round.” He waved before he disappeared, his flow of apologies following him down the hall as Sue took him back to where he was supposed to be.
You exhaled shakily before your eyes landed back on your notes. You closed the door and curled up in the armchair with your laptop, typing as fast as your fingers would permit. You were still working on finalizing the scene when Pearce reappeared a few hours later.
“Whoa…” He murmured, setting a hot beverage in front of you from the catering cart. “You’re in a groove here hmmm?”
“Just…” You tapped out the last few words and added the final piece of punctuation. “Here…” You passed the laptop to him, taking a deep sip of the drink he’d brought you, suddenly realizing how thirsty you were.
You found yourself pacing nervously until he chuckled under his breath, and you paused, looking back to him sharply.
“It’s…perfect…Honestly, does everything we need and it’s enjoyable to read. I can’t wait to see the boys do it.” He beamed at you, and you breathed a sigh of relief, the tension leaving your body with your exhale. “So how long did Mr. Butler stay to help you?” He smirked as you flopped back down into your chair.
“Only…about 30 minutes.” You blushed and murmured into your takeout cup.
Pearce waggled his eyebrows dramatically and you flipped him the bird.
“Oh, come on, let an old man live vicariously through you…he’s a gorgeous dish with the sluttiest little waist…OW!” He exclaimed at the sharp kick you delivered to his shin.
“You are not old, he is not into me, and don’t call him slutty. That’s rude.” You smirked and shook your head. “But he was very helpful” You admitted before taking another sip of your drink.
By the end of the day, the two of you had inserted the updated pieces of dialogue into the script. Despite it technically being your responsibility, he worked with you to copy and deliver the latest version to all necessary parties before you both headed home for the night.
The next day, the last day before filming, was filled with meetings. Details were finalized, kinks were worked out, and everyone was filled with the buzz of anticipation. One of the many meetings had taken place on the set of the interior of Yvette’s barn. There would be a lot of filming in there as the romance between Yvette and Antoine blossomed.
You had wanted to linger and take in all the details, but the meeting had been brief and intense, Pearce dragging you away to the next thing on your packed schedule. So, when peace finally settled over the studio around six o’clock that night, you had snuck back in there. No one really seemed to notice you, even as the art department was finishing their set-up. You made sure to stay out of their way, to keep your footsteps from disturbing the perfectly laid hay. Letting yourself soak in the space, you swallowed thickly.
A place you had imagined for years, the backdrop to all the key emotional points, had been made a reality. Pearce had not prepared you for the impact this process would have on your psyche. You tentatively reached out to touch the fake wooden post in front of you, laying your hand on the marks that had been etched into it making it seem centuries old. You closed your eyes, thinking back to the first images of the story that had played out in your head, how they had forced you to look. To write. It seemed like ages ago now, but here you were, physically in the space where it had all begun.
“Pretty incredible, ain’t it?” Austin murmured behind you, accent flowing like thick honey.
Your head whipped back to look at him as you gasped slightly, startled.
“Sorry, I’m sorry I really keep startlin’ ya don’t I?” He frowned and shook his head. “Even wearin’ army boots. So, either I walk light as a feather or ya get verra involved in what yer focusin’ on. I’m guessin’ it’s the second?” He tilted his head, pulling at the cupid’s bow of his upper lip.
A chuckle escaped you despite the still-elevated level of adrenaline from the startling he’d given you.
“Guilty of the second, without a doubt.” You murmured in return. “Not that you clomp around or anything.” You tacked on quickly, making him smirk warmly.
“Yer attention ta detail is exemplary…an’ what ya and Pearce did with that tarmac scene.” He shook his head with an expression of awe. “The boys ‘n’ I ran through it a few times while tha poor wardrobe folks were tryin’ ta finish up their work. It’s a joy ta read…”
You ducked your head shyly, flushing happily at the compliment. “Wouldn’t have been possible without your help. Thank you again.”
The two of you stood in amiable silence, watching the art department hanging bunches of dried lavender, strings of garlic, nets of onions. It really looked like a functioning French farm. One of the set decorators called out to another, asking the time, and you swore under your breath when they replied that it was just after 8:30.
“What’s wrong?” Austin looked to you, features painted with concern.
“Oh, I just…I guess I missed the last shuttle…I should start walking.”
“That’s a terrible idea, lemme give ya a ride.” He shook his head when you opened your mouth to protest. “The studio has given me a car ‘n’ driver; it’s far more economical if he drives two people ‘stead o’ one. I jus’ need ta change, meet me at wardrobe?”
You hesitated but he raised an eyebrow expectantly and you conceded with a nod.
“Just to the station at Slough, that’s more than I could ask.”
He squeezed your shoulder with a warm hand before the two of you slipped off the set and went your separate ways to collect your things. After locking up the office for the night you waited in front of the wardrobe department until he emerged in jeans and a denim jacket lined with sheep’s wool. It looked cozy and you were admittedly jealous. Springtime in England was unpredictable, and you were still learning how to dress in layers to keep up with all its fluctuations.
“All set then?” He smiled warmly and you nodded quickly, following him toward the waiting car.
“Really just Slough station, please.” You reiterated and he nodded as you slid into the backseat. You were unaware that he was shaking his head at the driver, making the older man wink with a chuckle.
“Where are ya stayin’? Is it a long ride?”
You shook your head. “Not at all, I’m staying in Slough at a short-term rental really close to the station. So, I’m not trying to be difficult.” You laughed softly.
“Slough station then, Mr. Butler?” The driver asked quietly, and Austin nodded.
“Yes, please.” He looked to you as the car pulled out. “Do ya feel ready fer tomorrow?” He asked.
“Honestly? I could say yes, because there’s nothing more to do until we start filming? But I’ve never done this before, so my answer is probably very wrong.”
He laughed warmly and you grinned happily, pleased to have been the cause of that sound.
“So, what prompted this, I’m assumin’, career change?” He asked as streetlights caused the interior of the car to alternate between light and dark.
You bit your lip thoughtfully.
“Well, I…always wanted to write and…well I’ve known Sloan most of my life and she asked if I would assist in writing the script and one thing led to another?” The lie had started off on wobbly legs, like a newborn deer, but was loping ahead at full speed now. “Pearce is not very good with technology, so I was in charge of the laptop while they worked.” Adding in truth made the lie stronger.
His eyes widened.
“You know Sloan? I…what’s she like? She’s such a mystery…” He asked, sounding eager for any scrap of information.
“I…well…” You laughed awkwardly. “She’s…normal? She doesn’t like the dark, she could eat pasta for every meal, and she has a real job and normal life that she wants to protect?” You finished with a small shrug.
“I just wish…I could ask ‘er…the author…some things ta make sure I get this righ’.” He sighed after nodding thoughtfully.
Your throat felt like sandpaper as you tried to force a swallow through it.
“I could…” You croaked and cleared your throat. “I could ask her if she’d be open to…emails or something?”
“Really?!” His eyes lit up at the possibility. “I would be really grateful if ya would, but please don’….I don’ want ta ruin yer friendship with ‘er.”
You were helpless against that look and shook your head softly.
“I’ll ask, it’s completely up to her what she’s comfortable with, but I am ok to ask.” You assured him warmly and he beamed.
“Thank ya verra, verra much.” He blinked as the car pulled up in front of the station. “This is really convenient, isn’t it.”
“Pearce’s knowledge was priceless; I am very, very lucky. And thank you for the ride, truly. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smiled quickly before jumping out of the car and waving as it pulled off.
You gulped at the cool night air, trying to flush the hazy scent of him from your mind. He was just a friendly colleague. Your heart really needed to stop beating so fast around him. Even when he talked about your…alter ego?... in such a reverent tone. If he only knew what a liar he was idolizing…
»» ────── ஓ ๑ ✧ ๑ ஓ ────── ««
Read Part Two
Nom De Plume Masterlist
#austin butler x reader#austin butler x you#austin butler x y/n#austin butler x fem!reader#x reader#austin butler fic#austin butler imagine#austin butler#blurredcolour#nomdeplumefic
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For the Asks to Spread Love, pick and answer 3 that you haven't been asked already! 🧡
Hello again, bri!! Thanks for sending more of these for me! I've really enjoyed catching up on them and thinking through these today!
Fandom Positivity asks from this game here.
10. A popular character you actually really like and why.
I do like me some rare characters most of all lol. My perspective is a bit biased because I love the ones I love and I don't mind if they aren't "popular" per se. (:
LOL -- The obvious answer is Teldryn, right? But I'm gonna talk about
💫Neloth 💫
instead.
I think he's popular to dunk on because he's been a very big pain in the ass in the games for centuries to everyone who will listen to him. I mean, since the events of Morrowind at minimum. (:
Why do I like him? Because of how he's been written by myself and a few friends -- namely @thana-topsy, @paraparadigm (TOOTHPICK!), and @thequeenofthewinter.
I love to see how other people take this character and run with what we're given in text ESPECIALLY considering how ridiculous he is to deal with and his general attitude toward other living things.
For myself, where I write him as a long term friend of Nerevarine!Teldryn Sero, I love to use his character as an opportunity to talk about the struggle of redemption. How does one redeem themselves from a lifetime of difficult choices made to fit into a specific perception? Does this perception eventually end up becoming a core facet of who you are as a person? If that is the case, can you change? Are the consequences of your choices enough to make you irredeemable? Further, can you forgive yourself if change does not come easily or if you return to old behaviors much too easily?
He's a complicated one, I think, especially by the events of Skyrim. He's not exactly estranged from the rest of House Telvanni, but the connection is tenuous and fraught as the House is still, apparently, recovering from the Red Year. In Morrowind it was very much the opposite. There's gotta be a kind of grief to this shift under the uncaring, hyperfocused exterior.
He's annoying, yes, but very interesting to me, and so he's in my fic. And he's actually a huge part of the latter half of the book.
11. Recommend a fic with an unusual/original headcanon or characterisation that you loved.
OH I'm SHOUTING OUT @changelingsandothernonsense's Danger!JOSH (aka Nerevarine Teldryn Sero)'s Nerevar-as-a-parasite situation in Serious Mistakes.
This angry spirit, more or less, lives in the ring and speaks into Teldryn's BRAIN and sometimes drives the entire car, so to speak and I've never ever read anything like it, holy shit. I'm a beta reader for this particular project and I literally cannot yell about it enough.
It's a novelization of the Teldryn Serious mod which was already intriguing, but AH. MY GOODNESS the Nerevar situation.
Let me show you.
From chapter 4:
Aren’t you meant to be looking for something?
“Oh, you’re still here?” Teldryn rasped, as if saying it out aloud mattered here.
You should be thanking me.
Teldryn grunted in annoyance, he had a point, he hated it when he was right. His mouth was dry. He wanted to stay where he was. Sleep.
You can’t stay here! Get up!
Teldryn groaned. Right again – the tide was coming in, if he didn’t find what he was looking for now, then it would be gone by morning. He needed his keys. Was there an Argonian on the beach? He couldn’t remember. His head hurt. He pinched the bridge of his nose, it did little to relieve the pressure. He always overdid it on the magicka, and now he was nauseous.
It's fucking cool, isn't it? (:
19. Give kudos to someone who leaves great comments.
OH GLADLY. Here's where I shout out @polypolymorph!!!
Okay so I could pick out a bunch of comments -- or novel-length responses. Each comment turns into an opportunity for a conversation and I'm always beside myself to hear back from her.
But right now, I'm still grinning ear to ear over, you guessed it. Eyestalks. Eye. Stalks.
(on this project here.)
#AskMareena#Positivity Asks#Neloth#Teldryn Sero#Nerevarine Teldryn Sero#Nerevar#indoril nerevar#Serious Mistakes#serious mistakes of solstheim#skyrim#morrowind#skyrim fic#Teldryn Serious#tes#tesblr#fanficblr
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this right here is a screenshot of the end of the first novel i ever finished. it was a version of Clockwork Bird, which would go on to become my first ever audio drama in 2020, 6 years after i finished wriitng the novel. it has been a whole TEN YEARS since i finished the first version of this story.
this makes me emotional for a bunch of reasons. firstly, i can't believe it's been an ENTIRE DECADE since i started finishing novel-length projects, what the actual FUCK.
it's kind of sobering because around July/August this year will mark 10 whole years of trying to get published.
since writing Clockwork Bird, I've written seven other novel length pieces, two of which I've attempted to run for publication. I've also rewritten and re-polished three of those stories, including Clockwork Bird, to give a second shot to. Two of those projects are currently making the rounds of literary agents.
I'm feeling hopeful that I'll be able to cross the finishline at some point in the next couple of years. I have wanted to be a writer for my whole life, and I know it's one of those things where all you really need to do to be the thing is to do the thing, and that's magic, and i also know that on top of all those prose writing projects, I've written three audio dramas and numerous other projects, too. the audio dramas have been pretty successful! I'm very proud of them.
one thing that's hard about looking at other people's creative careers is that, sort of by necessity, it all ends up getting flattened and smoothed out as part of the storytelling of who that person is as a creative. we tell rags-to-riches tales or spin another sort of narrative of who this person is and where they're from. the only commonality in all of those stories is that they make it all sound much more straightforward and much more understandable than the reality.
this is okay; it's important we do this in order to stay sane. we cannot reasonably conceive of every up and down in every author's trajectory. and it's kind of a consequence of the way we inevitably end up telling these stories because we start at the end. we know when we think about Charles Dickens, for example, that he ends up to be a celebrated novelist, even as we're talking about his difficult childhood and horrible relationship with his wife. all of his struggles and personal failings are a part of a story whose ending is 'and he was a famous, successful novelist'.
when we're living our lives, we don't know the end, because that's not how it works. you can hope and believe and plan and work extremely hard towards your goals and you still aren't going to know the outcome.
when i finished Clockwork Bird i had NO idea it would be an audio drama 90,000 people would listen to. i didn't know it would be another ten years MINIMUM before i even found a literary agent, let alone saw my work professsionally published. i didn't know i'd spend years barely writing a word of prose because i felt so disenfranchised. i had no idea.
there isn't a big thesis statement to this post, i'm just having a lot of feelings. they say we overestimate what we can achieve in a year, and underestimate what we can achieve in ten. remember you're hearing the stories of other people's lives with the benefit of hindsight; that's why yours always feels much weirder and messier than theirs when you think about it. keep going. u got this. ily. xxx
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Because I feel I say "I can't read the Untold Origins light novel because the translation gives me a headache" a lot without really having examples of why, I went back over some of my 382 PR notes on the part of the novel I did make it through a few years ago.
Important note: This exists so I have something to point to when people ask if I've read it or if I will. I love the story of Origins which is the only reason I suffered through as much of the novel as I did, and I was praying that it'd get adapted and adapted well so that I could really appreciate it. If you actively like the translation you may want to skip reading this if only to save yourself from noticing all the fucking annoying shit in the writing.
And this doesn't reflect my opinion on fan translations. Novels are hard to translate, BSD uses weird ass kanji and words, this isn't easy. But somebody got paid for this writing so I get to take harder shots at their skills. If I buy a professional light novel translation I expect a professional-level translation. Or at least, at the very very least, professional-level proofreading. That is not present here.
When I looked back at my notes, I discovered I actually didn't even start making them until after the scenes with the ADA. My 382 notes came from me melting down for a whole 21% of this novel.
Some quotes, starting from the very first line:
It was the night before the new employee, Atsushi Nakajima, joined the agency—and the night had only just begun.
-
Around that time, there were rumors of a highly competent bodyguard in Yokohama.
This is in no way "around that time," it's 12 years before the previous scene. The Japanese is その頃 which is meant to refer to a time different than where we are. Other common translations for this expression are "back then" and "in those days." "Around that time" is only a valid way to say it if we're aware of what time is being referenced, and at this point in the scene nobody's said when it is.
The translation of the expression is "correct" but when taken in context it says something entirely different than what it's supposed to mean. Like AI. This is a major red flag for what goes wrong with the rest of the book, but honestly it just gets worse.
There was already proof who did it, which led to the perpetrator’s swift arrest.
I cannot tell if leaving out the preposition was a typo or intentional. The entire line is garbage. "Evidence had already been found and the hit man was in custody." Not saying this line isn't difficult to interpret in JP (it is) but a lot of the existing translation is fluff tossed in to make it possible to use words that could be better. And you can do any number of things to avoid having such an awkward comma.
The wind was strong that day, causing the tape to flutter in the wind.
Yeah. This happens a lot.
“What are you doing?” Fukuzawa naturally asked.
I have no idea what this is supposed to mean. I really hesitate to say anything in the translation is wrong at my current level, but because it means nothing in English, this is wrong. It actually says something like "couldn't help asking."
Fukuzawa swiftly landed with both feet on the floor in the room next door so he could slide in through the slight crack he created,
I have half a dozen notes that are just "where the hell is this character right now". He lands in the room next door so that he can slip into the room next door?
The man wouldn’t be able to escape like this, let alone even scratch his nose.
This is most of the book, just strange and clunky writing. "Let alone" is used to highlight the thing you actually want to do, i.e. "I hardly have time to think these days, let alone relax." Oda wants to scratch his nose? "Even" is hideously redundant alongside "let alone" but could go here if they dropped it and added "or."
"Soon after, they eventually reach their destination."
That is a direct contradiction. It's not even hard to fix it should just be "finally" instead of "eventually."
To keep this from getting way too long and just summarize:
There are a lot of really bizarre word choices; "tossed to the curb" instead of "kicked to the curb," "got on the elevator" rather than "got in the elevator," "into range with their opponent" etc., and I'm gonna count the secretary saying the murdered company president was like a "governess" to him because the Japanese word is 主君, "lord," and if you weren't familiar with the word "governess" you'd probably think it meant female governor (rather than nanny).
On the more nitpicky stuff, there are a whopping 248 uses of the word "even," most of which need to be removed (and for the record I'm not usually one who cares about that kind of thing). I have several notes that words ending in -ly, especially "suddenly" and "instantly" should be banned from use in this book because they're painfully overused. Dialogue tags avoid "said" way too hard and its replacements interrupt the flow of the work. Past perfect is avoided at many many times when it just feels awkward and slangy to do so.
They do this weird thing where they put most adverbs before verbs ("keeping his trunk from even slightly shaking") which isn't technically wrong but feels wrong when it happens damn near every time there's an adverb. Adverbs of manner go after verbs most of the time so this feels almost like it's still in another language.
After a certain point, given the amount of action, I started to get violently irritated with the absolute dearth of exciting verbs (stationary gets flung and is "sent all over the room," not scattered, a desk is knocked over, it didn't crash to its side). Then we get things like "motionlessly looked" which is pretty much the textbook definition of "stare." It's very tell-don't-show.
And I could keep going. I got tired making these notes and I got tired again going back over them. And this!!! Is only 21% of the book!! I'm not sure if the blatant issues were what finally made me stop or if it was the relentless stream of lesser offenses in every sentence.
#gonna get myself in trouble with this one#flare reads bsd unfortunately#the agony of being a proofreader#some of this was definitely the novel's fault#but far from all#am I the final voice on this? no#but by god if you'd handed me this damn script for PR I would have done a better goddamn job#bungo stray dogs#bsd#bungou stray dogs
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Queer Books, day 23/30
This book was really, really big. It was my gateway drug into romanceland(ia). I had not realized that queer romance was even a thing until I saw a friend post about this on her insta. I mean, one time I asked a friend for romance novel recommendations and she suggested Outlander, and, like, no. I know some people like dark books but my idea of a good time doesn't involve anyone getting threatened with rape. So. For a long time I didn't read romance, and then there was Red, White, and Royal Blue.
I started on the audiobook and, okay. One of the MCs has the same name as my now-5yo and also the narrator at one point says "jif" instead of "gif," so I switched to an ebook and it was fine. But I still have feelings about this.
The writing here is serviceable, at times quite droll. It's liberal wish fulfillment at its most obvious (what if we had elected a younger version of Hillary in 2016 with a Latino son?); what if the royal family was not full of bigots and people with far more money than brains? The book is a little poorly edited--in one scene a night is both moonless and moonfull. There are some errors about how primogeniture works in the royal family and…you know, other errors that suggest it's not been fact checked. A political candidate having a 70% chance of winning doesn't mean that they are going to win by 70 points, and I don't know why any of the characters would find that surprising. Anyway.
I feel okay saying these things because this book has won a bunch of awards and it's going to be a fucking MOVIE and also, despite those things, I like it? Like it was fluffy and sweet and I read it at the tail end of a very difficult pregnancy, right around the 2020 election, and I fucking NEEDED something to put me entirely elsewhere. And this did the trick very efficiently.
Key quote:
The next slide is titled: EXPLORING YOUR SEXUALITY: HEALTHY, BUT DOES IT HAVE TO BE WITH THE PRINCE OF ENGLAND? She apologizes for not having time to come up with better titles. Alex actively wishes for the sweet release of death. The one after is: FEDERAL FUNDING, TRAVEL EXPENSES, BOOTY CALLS, AND YOU.
Okay, well, you know the deal. 10/10, go read.
#casey mcquiston#red white and royal blue#pride#gay fiction#gay romance#queer fiction#gay romance novels#thirty days of books
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stella maris reading log #1
its about damn time i start noting down how i feel when i read what i read. hell yeah. hopefully this makes me a better writer.
spoilers not really about the plot (bc honestly is there even a plot in the sense of a plot) but more about the language below the cut woooooo
tldr: book cool. writing insane. wtf. wtf. wtf. head ouchie. 越级打怪的后果就是头晕脑转 (dizziness is the consequence of attempting to read beyond my level). ooga booga man talk abt english
reading stella maris is so interesting because im just sitting here wondering like. how the FUCK did mccarthy accumulate all this knowledge about a variety of very distinct fields. my brain hurts. this is so much information. im learning nothing and learning everything at the same time. how the man managed to learn all this stuff and how he managed to put it together like this puzzle me equally intensely. its one thing to acquire knowledge. its a whole other thing to convey it in language so dense with information but also character. like, not to be that guy, but when osc does his infodumps i think to myself okay old man lets get you to bed. every time alicia opens her mouth i confront my intellectual inferiority and contemplate the meaning of life because it is alicia talking.
not to mention what the FUCK alicia. if only you’d have KNOWN. EUGH. WHAT. WHAT. WHAT.
my head hurts. the reason why im writing instead of reading is because ive already reached my reading breaking point where my eyes glaze over and the words go in one and out the other. its only been two hours. difficult language i can handle fine, verbosity is fine, i inhaled the ender stuff and only took breaks when osc pissed me off, but stella maris is information overload in a way that i’ve never experienced before. im like, texting three separate people all the time. oh i should vet this w my math guy. i need to show this to my psych classmate. this has to go to my orthopedics bestie.
i started this book saw the page number and went oh sure. its half the length of the passenger. the style means that it’ll contain less words overall too. i should be able to finish this on a three hour hsr ride. WRONG. i CANT. it’s TOO DIFFICULT. im running into roadblocks very similar to what i felt when i read the passenger: dont know place/name/context/big word. except im finding stella maris to be even more difficult because unlike some nautical jargon or random place in the midwestern usa that i can just look up, i cant. i think its impossible to even begin to comprehend all this math.
that’s definitely part of the charm of stella maris. the format of audio transcripts creates a much more intimate connection between the characters and the reader. the target demographic of this novel, though niche, is definitely not as niche as to comprise only of genius mathematicians with a burning passion for music and a hatred of psychology. the reader might be a master in one of these fields, but alicia outsmarts them in it along with all others. viewed through this lens, the reader is the doctor. the reader is the one who converses with alicia, trying their best to piece together a mind that is so extraordinarily genius and extraordinarily tormented. it’s a position of emotional significance. the reader sits through these audio recordings because they want to understand alicia. and to understand alicia is to love her. (this is a certified when i truly understand my enemy i love him moment)
all of that sits in stark contrast to western’s narration in the passenger.
i wrote an entire paragraph but tumblr fucking ate it. im pissed. its ok. for love i’ll write it again.
western’s narration is detached. it’s impersonal. mccarthy’s clinical and direct use of language alienates the viewer and prevents the formation of any sincere rapport, allowing only mild sympathy for western’s continued suffering. the reader is merely an observer, piecing together the life of a strange, curious creature through inference and deduction. nor is the reader meant to empathize with him. he’s the one who chose to abandon alicia, the one reckless enough to chose race car driving over his degree, and therefore the one who shoulders alone the responsibility of alicia’s death—or so he thinks. in a sense, because western is comparatively lucid, the detached narration becomes almost a punishment for the guilt he’s assigned to himself. he’s not the one in the mental asylum, afterall.
its interesting to me how mccarthy presents this duo to the audience. i have many Thoughts on alicia’s sexuality and stuff but i should finish the book before i synthesize those thoughts. anyway. thanks for reading 👍
#stella maris#cormac mccarthy#kenon.notes#honestly i think at this point i should start a book blogging tag#hm#kenon.reads#it’s cringe but it will suffice#ok this turned into a thing about#the passenger#also#book reading#english#?????????#how do you tag this stuff#idk
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Sucks to be Me But I'm built Different Now
My work got accepted in a Litmag (technically a Zine, CoinOperated Press to be precise) for the first time today, and outside of being thoroughly excited to announce that my humble flier will be included in their next Zine, Dungeons and Dragons Part 2. (Learn more about it on the following link)
I just want to say that looking back, I think a lot of my opinions about my own creative work is based off of like, no one really praising me for my writing. Like I didn't keep writing because people said that I was doing great or good or was talented or whatever, I kept writing because I wanted to get to that point, in spite of the lack of praise not because of it.
Hell, my mother was basically radio silent on my writing after noting that my very first work, the weird fugue state nanowrimo novel that's lost to the sands of time was, and I'm quoting here, "At least he has good grammar." Admittedly I kinda avoided showing her stuff after that, but still.
Outside of her and my even less present father there was my brother who was barely present in my teenage years, and so I basically had jack all for validation outside of an RPing community I immediately antagonized by being an attention seeking edgy teenager who fired out a self insert the GM immediately recognized somehow.
So while it gave me an easy way to keep writing and a sense of community which genuinely helped me practice and learn the craft among other things, it also meant that I didn't really get praise? Or when I did it was from someone close enough to me personally that my brain could immediately dismiss them and their opinions as being invalid as they are tainted by other people's impressions of me as a person.
I think the one bit of praise I registered as genuine was when people said they had fun in the complete mess of a Shadowrun world plot I ran in that RP which is really just a high I've been chasing ever since with every tabletop game I have ever run.
And I couldn't rely on internal validation either because I spent literal years thinking that I was somehow getting worse over time because for some fucking reason I measured that shit based off of output as in the amount of words and paragraphs written down on (virtual) paper as opposed to like, actual quality.
And how hard it was to write, which uhhh, honestly writing has never really gotten easier for me, like I am far more aware of what constitutes 'good' writing now, but it's not like the actual process has gotten much easier, and honestly as the years went on I ended up constraining my own creativity more in vague pursuit of 'better, more respectable and praiseworthy writing'.
Which meant that on top of the tyranny of time eating away at my ability to remember how difficult it was to write in the first place, I had a growing list of hangups and fears that meant that I could always refer back to some past paragraphs I think are real zingers and go, "Damn, where did I go wrong? How am I worse than I use to be?" while ignoring the veritable sea of word vomit, every little thing I did to piss other people off, and the fact that I unironically just naturally obtained more responsibilities as I grew up and obtained a job that slowly crushed my will to live that just made it harder to sit down and write LMAO.
Now I'd love to say that I've thrown of all of my chains, learned to write the proper way, and focused my life entirely towards mastering the craft without interruptions, or that this one acceptance has fulfilled my lifelong desire for validation from a complete stranger once and for all.
Really all I have to say about all this is what you read at the top, "man it sucks to be me but I'm built different," I am in more ways than one no longer the same man who started writing just to have something to do in November, nor am I the man who sat down and chose to make himself when told to make absolutely anything he could want to be.
But then again I am the woman who started whooping and whollering and going, "OLE OLE OLE" and praising God after reading this so like, maybe I'm not that different after all.
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hiiii i love your stuff SO so sososo much, sorry for just now accidentally unfollowing and refollowing instead of clicking the "ask" button I?? don't know?? what happened?? anyway!! 33, 39, and 43 if you want!! or any combination thereof :D
ahaha no worries, it happens!! and thank you 😘
33. Do you want to be published some day?
i already have! i’ve had some short stories published and a couple of poems. outside of fic i mostly write literary/contemporary fiction and cyberpunk/speculative fiction.
i would dearly love to have a novel published one day. i’ve been writing a cyberpunk novel about a tech start-up turned sex cult for a couple of years now which has been an exhausting but very fun process that has taught me a lot. whether it’ll ever see the light of day, who knows, but i’d like to hope so.
39. Share a snippet from a WIP
here’s the opening paragraphs of an appalling daniel/lando/oscar threesome i started after the daniel.jpg photos, which i am chipping away at slowly but greatly enjoying:
Vegas, baby. It’s a cesspit. A monument to money: spending it, losing it, making it back, and all the terrible and fun things you can buy with it. Sex, drugs, cocktails strong enough to strip the top layer of skin off your tongue. It’s tacky as all get-out, fake as hell. A pink plastic dildo compared to an honest-to-god flesh and blood fuck. Basically all of humanity’s worst impulses dialled up to 11 and squeezed into 350 square kay-ems. Daniel fucking loves it.
He finishes explaining all this to Lando with a bit of a flourish, and then zips up and goes to wash his hands.
and here’s a little snippet from the next chapter of that one from work can come over on monday night, a scene i wrote almost entirely because i was desperately entertained by the idea of george taking the register with a clipboard at GPDA meetings:
“Alright, Piastri,” he says when he sees Oscar, smiling and standing up to shake his hand. “Good work today. Those upgrades are looking sharp.”
“Yeah, cheers,” Oscar says, sliding into one of the chairs next to Albon, who’s nursing a hot drink in a paper cup and already looks bored. “Perfect way to celebrate, this is.”
Alex gives him a sidelong smile, while George frowns very slightly, eyebrows pinching together like he can’t figure out if Oscar’s joking or having a go.
“Definitely my ideal way to spend a Saturday night,” Alex agrees, taking another sip of whatever’s in his cup and wrinkling his nose. “Christ, can nobody in this place make a decent cup of tea?”
The room is slowly filling up, and George cranes his head to count off the numbers, ticking off names against a register on his clipboard. Oscar stifles a smile.
43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?
it depends on your definition of hurt! i definitely take a sadistic joy in hurting them in a kinky way sometimes, but i’m no good at writing full-on angst or even really hurt/comfort. i do tend to put some struggles into my fics, especially the longer ones, because otherwise the plot can drag, but i don’t especially look forward to doing it other than in the sense that it’s a good writing exercise to imagine how the blorbos would react to emotionally tricky situations. this is especially fun with F1 drivers are they are generally emotionally stunted.
it also depends a lot on the character, because some of them (charles, george, jev) are very emotionally intense and prone to self-flagellation which means it’s both canon and satisfying to make them struggle, as in beautiful one day, perfect the next for instance. others, like daniel or oscar or max, are various flavours of repressed and/or not emotionally demonstrative and so it’s interesting for me to think about how they would react — both outwardly and inwardly — to difficult situations, like daniel’s veering between denialism and the odd flash of reluctant maturity in you know how sticky it gets, or oscar’s tendency to compartmentalise and make lando think he’s uninterested in ‘this one from work…’
thank you for askinggg ❤️
get to know your fic writer!
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what do you think of ene :3 the kagepro fans ive seen tend to write her off as LOL silly virus miku and not much beyond that and while she is sillay i do wish shintaro/ene codependency was explored a little bit .... so when i saw you mention post str takane/shintaro codependency i was like FUCK YEAHHHHHH
lmao. dude. she is my favorite character COME ON like it pisses me off so bad how everyone treats ene as teehee comic relief and only treat takane as Takane bc like. THEYRE THE SAME FUCKING PERSON IDIOT!!! Hating ene is hating post str takane 😒😒😒
anyways i dont have a fave between haruka and takane but heh takane just has so much more depth imo. her story is a lil more complex to me and its just such a good arc ugh like shes rly one of the characters to go through the most drastic development like her arc is so😭😭😭 i love you enomoto takane and i hate ppl who disregard ene. if u do that u dont fucking understand takane at all and u should GET OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!!!!!
POST STR SHINTARO/TAKANE CODEPENDENCY REALNESS ITS LITERALLY MY FAVE SUBJECT EVER BC LIKE takane fucking DIED and so did everyone she loved and suddenly there is shintaro who she holds onto not only bc he looks awful and obviously needs help but bc hes the one proof she was ever real so she holds onto him as her form of keeping herself sane!??!?!!? like it goes both ways!?!?!?? for over a year (i think ene arrives in shintaros comp like a year into him being a shut in out of the 2 years, irc?) theyre all the other has, but for ene it also goes into him being her whole entire life and point of existence. not only to keep herself sane and have a purpose, but being with shintaro in memory of ayano, of haruka, and of herself... like. post str takane has ISSUES i think its rly hard for her to really let go of shintaro.
as for shintaro its like... im kinda split. would he wanna cut her off or hold onto her as well? ive seen cool stuff with the idea of shintaro being super angry at her but tbh i think he'd be mad for only a little but since he's got memories of past timelines its difficult to be Actually mad at her and cut her off. like, he killed her in one route LMAO i think shintaro would feel guilty abt that + treat the situation seriously not like he did in the novel where they get over it after just yelling at each other for a bit and its rather a funny scene than a serious one😒 (i hate how the novels treated takane getting her body back as sort of a joke, like she gets it back off screen bc its a Kano Novel and then its implied she like shoplifted some food LMAO and then the shintaro confrontation is just written off as a funny bit i just UGH it should be a bigger deal that one of the main characters got her body back after 2 years but WHATEVER)
anyways. shintaro would go easy on takane especially when seeing how pathetic she looks trying to fix things with him and i think they have this sick sick sick she can fix me/i can fix him relationship where shintaro while wary of her at first, does fall in how comfortable it is to just rely on takane for everything and treats takane as a therapist while takane rejoices in not only still being in his life but being needed by him. ayano would be jealous of takane and goes to haruka like arent YOU jealous and haruka's like am i the only one seeing this is super just fucked up for both their mental healths especially takanes. haruka is not jealous of shintaro as much as hes kind of annoyed bc in the dynamic Shintaro is really the one indulging takane bc its comfortable for him. haruka probably tries talking to takane but its also difficult for him to call it out bc she sees how broken and nervous she is without knowing whats of shintaros life so its like. a whole thing. yuukei quartet relationship drama 4ever
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5 + 9 for da writer ask game
The ask game (I kept forgetting to do this because still pretty sick) X
Thank you for asking I'm sorry I'm going to ramble.
5. ⚠️Which wip your most likely to finish or update next?
I've been missing Acair lately so more than likely his story. That or the visual novel script since I've missed most of the cast for that. I tend to do original works based on what character I feel like seeing at the time. Which is difficult because I have to do rereads and rewrite stuff a lot. Easier for Acair since his was in a rewriting stage anyway but honestly most of them are planned out I just have to write it.
9.🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?
So, weirdly enough there's this one story that is a combining of two works I made before that a friend and I have been workshopping for a few years now. It's still in the world building stages in order to make it fit into the existing universe of stories more without taking away from either of them. It deals a lot with supernatural elements, and I was really excited to create a whole bunch of new supernatural beings for it. The first one is original all the way through but the second was based off of mythologies. So, a good deal of it will be reincorporating/reworking those aspects into something entirely new and unique. I really like creating entirely new beings so I was looking forwar to doing this one a lot.
Though I got distracted by the stories that connect to it. i.e someone connected the family of someone connected to one other series is involved here but it's unimportant because he disowned on them. But scratch that it's important in another story because he does actually have direct descedents these people are trying to kill but scratch that the person who caused all of this does not care to fix it and it's his descendents problem now. So, he's remaining greatly uninvolved but incredibly entertained. So despite these being connected it's like no they're not plot wise.
It is just very fun to remind myself sometimes that one dude caused several issues and has just been living his best life honestly. He also causes issues in the story he's actually involved in and faces no repercussions there as well. Dude just creates problems and then chills at home. The only repercussion he faces is getting a dude stuck in his house because said dude did not listen to his very specific instructions on how not to get stuck in his house. At which point he's like I don't know how you fuck up so bad and you definitely can't go home now because you ignored my instructions but you're definitely not staying in my house and not returning my shit. Have fun stuck in whatever the hell is outside of here. I don't know what it is; I don't go out. Goodbye~
Ultimately I want to start this one to just have the beginning worked out of the the three series completely driven by one irresponsible dudes poor life choices started. Because its funny he's so terribly disinterested with the conceivable consequences of any of his actions. He's just like well if there's a consequence that can happen it will at this point. I'm just wondering which one it'll be.
As several people with shorter lifespans than him are all like I fucking hate you plus the one guy that has the same lifespan as him is still mad about it (he didn't want that) and in fact is meant to be living with him but tricked the guy mentioned earlier who cannot go home. That guy being Acair's dad. He's not going home by the way. That definitely won't cause problems.
"They said like a writer creating a problem."
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Addressing controversial topics with subtlety and nuance without resorting to fence-sitting is a difficult thing to do, so I've thought for a long while about how I'd word this post so it would actually reach people. I'm fairly sure it'll fail, but I'm tired of mistaking my own confused silence for cowardice.
So, how about that culture war, huh? Pretty wild stuff, innit? For example, I had thought that there was a pretty vast space for productive compromise in between "men should be banned from wearing kilts on the grounds of sexual immorality" and "pushing pro-sterilization propaganda on children from the age of 4 onwards from every available uncensored platform is fucking awesome, actually," but it seems in the current state of things that's not the case. It's either one extreme or the other. Indeed, that dichotomy forms a depressingly thorough scissor statement for much of our terminally online class.
Including myself, of course. For my part, even though I regularly wear a kilt on formal occasions - including for my own wedding - I would much, much rather have to quietly hush up that fact, deleting all pictures thereof and having A Word with my friends and relations, than have my nieces, nephews, and my own (future) children subject to non-stop pro-sterilization propaganda from their teachers, media heroes, etc. And it isn't even close. In fact, the idea that someone might hold the opposite point of view seems to me as obviously, transparently abhorrent as the parenting practices of Walter Breen.
And yet, many of the people I follow here on tumblr seem to hold that opposite perspective. I won't call my mutuals 'friends' - I don't personally hold with having friends that I've never met in person - but you're all people who, if I heard you'd suddenly died, I'd feel really quite sad for a good long while. You post interesting, insightful things, sometimes things I already agree with, sometimes things I find novel and interesting, and sometimes things I heartily disagree with. Whichever way, though, they're things I find interesting and am glad to read. But there's some of you who seem to hold quite the opposite opinion as me on this scissor statement, who think 'banning men from wearing kilts' to be the greater of two evils here, and who don't seem to be afraid of proclaiming that fact.
I don't know what to make of this fact. I've always thought of rationality as the only arbiter of judgement that we can possibly rely on, and so I can think of various arguments in favor of my opinion, but I can't imagine they would actually persuade anyone who disagrees. There are a lot of moral, ethical, and political questions where I can imagine close, scientific reasoning would persuade me, but...well, as I said above, I view my opponents' position as being morally equivalent to advocating for Walter Breen's systematic sexual abuse and exploitation of his pre-pubescent children over the course of many years, and I can't imagine any possible argument that would persuade me that that's fine and dandy.
And yet, many of the people who seem to espouse this horrifying position seem otherwise to be sensitive, caring and intelligent people. What is one to make of this? Is morality really completely, entirely, 100% arbitrary? If it's this arbitrary, that there can be no common ground on such fundamental questions as this, then I find it hard to avoid agreeing with the poet that "if we knew what we are, we should do as Sir Arthur Jermyn did; and Arthur Jermyn soaked himself in oil and set fire to his clothing one night." I don't know.
I'll confess that my secret hope in writing this is that one of my mutuals who falls on the other side of this scissor statement from me will read my framing of the issue - "massive, government-sponsored pro-child-sterilization propaganda" - and come to the slow, belated realization that they've been wrong the whole time. But, realistically, I don't have much hope that'll happen. After all, I've seen the other side frame the debate in equally apocalyptic terms - "trans genocide!," an' a' tha' - for years, and it's failed to move me even the slightest amount. Frankly, I'll be surprised if any of the people I'd be happiest to persuade have even read this far. Reading an effortpost can take a lot of effort, after all, and most especially when it disagrees with you.
Still, I would like to extend a hand to all of you awful, reprehensible, and yet somehow morally decent people. As I said in the very first paragraph, even though I find your moral priors horrible beyond measure in ways that shake my belief in the very idea of a common morality to the core, I still think there's a really vast space for compromise. Surely we can all agree that it's perfectly fine for men to wear dresses and eyeliner, and for women to drive motorcycles and chew Copenhagen, and that it's also probably a bad idea for 3rd-grade teachers to be telling kids how fucking hip double mastectomies are? Right? Hell, I'll go further - I really don't care who uses what bathroom, tbh, as long as they're not doing something that is already considered awful for innumerable other, non-gender-related reasons. As long as you can agree that, actually, prescribing chemical castration drugs to otherwise healthy 10 year olds is not the sort of thing that should be considered consistent with the rest of our medical ethics.
Here, I've even prepared a light-hearted cartoon about my attempt to find common ground and compromise in the broad space in between our two positions:
If it seems pessimistic about the likelihood of genuine long-term peace and compromise over this or any other culture war issue, well. That's because I am.
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random game roundup
yeah baby lets go i hate posting things at a time people will see them
Meeting in the Flesh - PWYW
actually im obsessed with this one. holy shit. it fucking rules. its free and i think you should play it
this is a self-described "cozy horror-based dating sim" and i personally didnt think it was like. scary horror. but i absolutely loved it.
the premise is that you are vil, a salt courier in a city that um only eats salt and things mixed with salt? and the eclipse is approaching, a time of great significance in local culture.
i played the full yiestol route which took about 45 minutes. the art is gorgeous, and the writing was compelling enough that i kept playing past the usual 15 minutes. if i have a complaint its that the music was much more "miss" than "hit". you should play this one!!!!!
Flying Frags - World Tour - PWYW
this is. unreal. its a very visually interesting looking fps that is hampered by having some of the least responsive controls ive ever experienced in my life. i have no idea what is going on here lol. it would take two solid seconds of mashing the shoot button (both ctrl and left mouse button) before my gun owuld start firing. i wish i recorded myself playing this thing bc all i could say the entire time was "what in the goddamn"
Eternia: Pet Whisperer - $3
Included in Indie bundle for Palestinian Aid
this is a visual novel about going to a shelter to adopt a pet but all the animals at the shelter can talk. found the loving realistic paintings of the animals very funny when contrasted by the more typical visual novel sprite of the protagonist. also that you have one interaction per day implying you spend like a month at this shelter where the inhabitants kind of hate you lol
Six Match - $2.50
Included in Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality
i forgot to take a screenshot lmao
this is cute! six match is a match 3 puzzle game where you control a little guy who shuffles around the board. you have to make a match within six moves or you lose. it's pretty difficult (im bad at match three...) and kept my attention well the entire time.
i think generally the presentation is extremely good and the sound effects are satisfying but it does feel weird to me that there is zero music at all. overall this is very charming and worth a few minutes at least
Occupy White Walls - Free!
this is "an" "mmo" so kind of hard to get a taste of in only 15 minutes but by god did i try
occupy white walls is an art gallery sandbox. you have your own space to build a place to display art. i spent most of my time running around various recommended player spaces but it looks like it's very robust and interesting to build in
also this runs like ass in "high complexity" spaces despite the fact that it was not really taxing my hardware at any point. idk what was going on with that. this is completely free and on steam so if you want to go wander around some online art projects you could certainly do worse
#random game roundup#meeting in the flesh#flying frags - world tour#eternia: pet whisperer#six match#occupy white walls
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can we read the murder lesbians short story
!!!!! YES omg its under the cut <33 a little over 1k words and is one of my first attempts at creative writing would love if anyone read or gave feedback soooo much okk here it is
"define, desire":
To the outsider, Anna’s attention is failing. She sits alone at one of the library’s hexagonal tables, has turned the page maybe once in the past hour. What the outsider doesn’t understand, is that Anna's attention is an arrow with a string, sharp and resolute point embedded in its mark. It’s not her fault, really, how can she be expected to focus on East of Eden when God’s favorite angel is typing in her peripheral. Mari is wearing thin, silver framed glasses today, enlarging her already lamb-like eyes.
Five months ago Anna’s mother passed, leaving her the pale yellow-painted estate and an ever-unsatisfied well wedged deep in her stomach, unrelenting thing. September was rain waving hello, through windows on slow train rides from Anna’s Brooklyn apartment to the quiet and innocuous woods of Seneca Falls. Her intention was never to stay, this was promptly ruined on a notably gray September Sunday: Anna subjected to tediously returning her late mother’s stack of overdue romance novels. Upon first glance, she mistook Mari for actual, inhuman art. It’s nice that the library is investing in the fine arts, she thought. Oh, oh but then the beauty blinked itself alive, flesh and blood, Pygmalion and Galatea. Silver-blonde hair ending at the dip of visible hip bones, her front strands framing those fucking doe eyes. When reading The Argonautica, she thought Jason's men stupid for being unable to resist the sirens’ call. She sympathizes with them now. Mari is desire personified, something sicker than yearning. Flesh and blood cannot look like that. Anna moved to Seneca Falls the following week.
Anna is not insane. She and Mari are friends. It began with books (Anna often watches Mari’s desk then purchases her current read from the local bookstore). Sometimes they’ll discuss art (Anna’s favorite pieces may, on common occasions, feature fair maidens with notably defined anatomy). Recently, they’ve been frequenting local events (she’s canceled three appointments now to attend said events with Mari). The two of them, in fact, went to the loveliest gallery opening last month and shared a slice of blackberry lemon-crème cake. Mari fed Anna a bite with her fork: a doubly bittersweet, indirect kiss. Mari mentioned a craving for it two days ago, red lips in a distracting, horrifying pout. So Anna, in a normal, nonchalant way, called the gallery with the intent of purchasing an entire cake. Tragically, she failed to locate the baker. The gallery was lucky enough however, to have a copy for allergy concerns, which was faxed over. Mari gifted her a kiss on the cheek for it yesterday: a bullet to rational thinking. And so, here is Anna, thinking about warm lips and delicate wrists and flushed skin as Steinbeck’s open pages collect dust.
˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊
Mari has never been more beautiful than in Anna’s late-mother’s kitchen. It’s not the kitchen really, with its outdated black and white tiled backsplash, nor even the setting sun’s orange light placing a halo atop her head. It’s Mari suggesting they bake the cake together, Anna’s kitchen is bigger anyway, it’ll be nice, she had said. Suggested so casually, as if not filling Anna’s mind with sickly craving, sugarcoated daydreams.
The cake is cooling now, on the silver rack beside the knife block. They’re making frosting. It’s difficult for Anna to pay much care to anything besides the smear of buttercream on Mari’s forearm. She thinks of placing her mouth on it, saccharine skin. Mari smiles, full face, and it's then Anna realizes she’s been talking.
“Sorry—missed that,” Anna says.
“Oh I just said the photo on your fridge, it’s nice,” Mari replies.
Mari is referring to a photo of her mother—loose brown curls and stress lines around the eyes, her smile is strained only slightly, it’s almost indiscernible. Anna is seated next to her, same strained smile but significantly less disguised.
“Oh, thanks. That’s my mom, we took it over there.” Anna nods towards the blue velvet couch in the living room where they had then posed for the hired photographer.
“Cute. You look like her.” Mari says.
Soon the conversation moves to the new Margaret Atwood they’re both ‘coincidentally’ reading. The butter churns, loud and repetitive, like a third voice interrupting the discussion. Mari snacks on spare blackberries as they wait, her hands match Persephone’s, all stained red.
˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊
It’s horrific, two toppling layers, collapsing under the weight of undoubtedly too much lemon buttercream; blackberries lazily clinging to swirled dollops. There’s a sheen to it, moonlight on the melting fat of the frosting.
“It’s beautiful,” Anna quips. Mari laughs, taking a knife out of the block, eager to taste.
“It’s a scale model of the fucking leaning tower of pizza—” Mari says.
“You’re beautiful.” Anna interrupts, unable to help herself. Oh, she’s ruined it now. This was supposed to be a quiet, careful seduction—waves ebbing at rocks so slowly that the rock never realizes when exactly, it goes under. A sea stack.
Mari’s eyes go big and pleased. She smiles, impossibly, wider.
Oh fuck, oh, oh fuck, Anna thinks. Does she know? Shit. Anna is sick, sick with want, poisoned by something carnal and consuming.
“You’re lovely,” Mari says, as if it’s simple.
She’s close, now, the warmth of her skin corporeal. The red nail polish of Mari’s fingers meets the cotton of Anna’s shirt. Anna gently claps her wrist, takes the knife out of her hand, a tentative touch. The whole thing is lovely really: the delicate press of bone against skin, Mari’s breath, soft against hers, and Anna’s knife, deep in Mari’s guts.
Desire: “to strongly wish for or want (something),” this “something” is undefined. Romance perhaps, sex, money, love, or, in Anna’s case, violence, flavored with sacrilege. When Anna first realized that Mari was not in fact, sterile art, she was overcome with desire to kill something that is holy and also alive. Mari is screaming, an angel’s chorus. Prey eyes thick with tears, the confusion of a calf raised by a butcher. Her blood is blackberry juice against buttercream, pouring out from the mouth, catching on the veins of her throat, pooling in her clavicle, then trickling back into the original wound in the stomach. Collapsing, strings cut, she fades into a beautiful lifelessness, ars longa vita brevis. Unrelenting hunger satisfied, Mari lies on the floor— Millais’ Ophelia. Anna is ecstatic, a bit in awe. She thinks herself a sort of artist, the corpse on the floor her undying masterpiece. High on ultimate hedonism, Anna notices blood splattered on the cake. She takes the frosting on her finger, metallic, sour, and too-sweet, it’s quite good. A shame, Anna thinks, that she never got to try a slice.
#uhmmm yes lmk what u guys think if u have any questions etc etc <3333#mine#first thing longer than like two paragraphs ive posted wooow#btw mari fucks the shit out of anna in hell dw#haunts her as a flirty but angry ghost too maybe#asks#clownfall#writing#short story#fiction
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