#(not 2025. that's too soon alas)

[theinfinitedivides]

'alright, Ustaad ji, who is this tone deaf creature?' 'this is the great Saeeda Bai from Agra!' 'why would a woman from Lahore waste her time listening to a woman from Agra?' — ep 1 - the queen of heeramandi | heeramandi, 2024, dir. sanjay leela bhansali.

[thenightisland]

i think there should be a secret knock or password speakeasy-style to convey to healthcare people "i am one of you i am not some rando with webmd who thinks antibiotics will treat the flu if i am requesting antibiotics i have already tried all the other measures and have read the clinical practice standards for the condition in question to determine if antibiotics are indicated" anyway a pox upon the temp doctor i dealt with last week who immediately gave me a condescending "it's viralllllll" as i'm reciting all the clinical indicators that it is not in fact viral and all the blessings on my pcp who's known me for twenty years and was like amoxicillin be upon ye!

[thelov3lybookworm]

Creep

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You'd think the Spymaster lost his child with the way his room looks. Turns out it was just the ridiculous dagger Y/n came to return.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2025 (i am actually cackling rn)

Warnings: kinda fluffy, the tiniest sprinkle of angst if you squint, maybe a lore drop soon omg??? but otherwise nothing serious <3

A/n: the third part in my maid!reader oneshot list YAYYY 🥳🥳🥳 i actually love this part so much omg, like the amount of details i put?? WHO IS SHE I LIKE HERRR🥹 i literally am in love omg and i hope yall like it too🥹

also yn is so funny lmaoo i love her 🥹😭

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Moonlight spilled in through the open spaces between the pillars like liquid silver, the sight ethereal as Y/n quietly made her way through the hallways, down, down into the servants quarters.

The hallways were deserted, not a single soul in sight, and involuntarily, she began humming. The sound echoed back to Y/n, lighter and lighter, merging in the cacophony of a haunting song that would have, any other day, creeped Y/n out. Chilled fingers raked their fingers down her spine, and she quickened her steps, wondering if someone was watching.

Wouldn’t be the first time, as some people did have an affinity for watching unassuming females.

Even as she finally turned into the hallway on the end of which was the stairway leading down towards her quarters, she considered sprinting, in case there was a spirit about to nab her. But before she could make good on that thought, a fae emerged from the stairway, and Y/n’s voice died down, the only sound now the echoes of the song.

Just as the last note reverberated against her skin, Olga paused in front of Y/n, offering her a stern look. Under the moonlight, her skin, as dark as night, shimmered like a million diamonds were embedded in her pores.

"This morning, when you went to clean the spymaster’s room. Did you take anything?"

Y/n’s brows furrowed. No greetings? "No, not as far as I remember."

"Remember now?" The head maid scoffed, shifting to reveal her hands from in between her robes. In them, she held a knife. It was bejewelled, a little too much to be a knife used for eating, in Y/n’s humble opinion.

Yet, she did recall seeing the knife, and putting it in the basket holding the dirty dishes.

"Oh… is that-"

"The spymaster’s personal dagger, yes."

Y/n peered up at Olga, drawing her lip between her teeth. Already, a flush of embarrassment was climbing up her neck, and the lump beginning to form in her throat under the glare that could bruise even a forest’s ego did nothing to help.

"Forgive me, I assumed it was a knife."

Olga’s white brows wrinkled. She had always been one of the more beautiful fae Y/n had ever encountered, albeit very short tempered. That didn’t stop Y/n from complimenting the older female every chance she got.

"How do you confuse a dagger with a knife? And even if you did, what fool would use this-" she lifted the dagger higher between the two, "-this thing to cut their steak?"

Y/n paused, her eyes wide. "...the fool who would put jewels on a dagger meant for combat?"

And- there. Barely visible, but a faint uptick in the corner of Olga’s mouth.

"You young kids will make me age quicker. Mother help me."

"But you will be a very beautiful old female, no? I’m sure the males would still line up!" Y/n giggled lightly, her eyes fixated on Olga’s face to catch every single change in her expression. The crinkling of the skin around her eyes brought Y/n immense joy. It made her feel like she was in the presence of her mother, making her laugh instead of this complete stranger who’d taken up the role of becoming a maternal figure after…

After.

"Go, give this back to him." Olga mumbled, offering her the hilt.

Y/n pouted, widening her eyes in hopes it would placate the female in front of her. Alas, there was barely anything that would distract Olga from work.

"Y/n, you made a mistake. Fix it." Despite the stern tone of voice, Olga’s grip was gentle as she grabbed Y/n’s hand, placing the dagger in the center of her palm.

"But I’m tired."

But Olga had already turned away, walking back towards the stairway she had come from like she had suddenly lost all hearing.

"At least will you oil my hair?!" Y/n called out, wishing she wouldn’t say no.

Olga paused, but didn’t turn. After a small moment, her shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug, and then she went on, without a word. Y/n huffed, looking down at the dagger that flashed back at her when she turned it just the right amount.

It’s your fault, you fuc- no cursing. Mama doesn’t like cursing.

Y/n sighed, then turned back the way she had come, preparing herself for the trek upstairs, her eyes fixated, once again, on the moonlight. Wading through it like water, Y/n paused just before she could take a step into the stairway.

She glanced out- over the moon drenched mountains, the glittering snow, the sparkling stars against the blanket of night- then around. Not even a dust particle in sight to witness her lone mission of returning the dagger.

It wouldn’t be too bad to let the glamour drop…

After a split moment of hesitation, Y/n turned on her heel, heading towards the marble banister under the open sky -making her way through tiny patches of grass on the smaller sitting area- protecting the fae from dropping into the open maw of the smaller mountains beneath. After another quick look around, she let her wings sprout from her back, catching a drift and letting it carry her.

As she beat the appendages, going higher and higher, feeling the wind tickle the dark, iridescent blue wings, she felt the tension release in her body. It had been so long since she had felt the breeze toying with the curved edges that curled in on themselves at the bottom. So long since she had even let the glamour hiding the wings from sight drop.

The wings unfurled after each stroke, and Y/n herself wanted to turn her head, to watch, enraptured, at the beauty of it all. She had always adored her wings, even on her darkest of days. The feeling of having the wind in your hair, the breeze playing with your clothes, the ability to feel things only a few others could enjoy had always fascinated Y/n, equally so as the whole experience of being airborne.

It gave her a high nothing else did, and so when she felt solid ground under her feet again, it was almost disappointing, considering she hadn’t even realised how quick the flight would be.

It almost made her want to beg the mother to give her a chance to fly for longer, but Y/n had long ago realised to be very, very mindful of what she asked for. She had quite an experience in the consequences of mindless prayers.

Once, she had asked for something. She had gotten it, but at the cost of losing her.

The hallway was deserted, just as it had been hours ago when Y/n had been preparing herself to face some elite fae. It was her luck that it turned out to be Azriel, and despite it being his own doing, Y/n didn’t hold the fact that it made her uncomfortable against him.

Quickly, Y/n walked over to the same door she had stared at before the same morning, and lifted her hand, landing three quick raps against the wood.

At first, the shuffling that seeped through the door stopped completely, the almost frantic shuffle of feet on the other side of the door giving way to silence so thick it was almost suffocating. And then the scuff of boots that got louder as the fae inside approached the door.

Y/n found herself staring into hazel eyes the moment the door cracked open, and she shifted, clearing her throat when he refused to say a word. He blinked, as if waking from a trance, and opened the barrier separating them wider, offering her a smile.

"Good evening."

Y/n glanced down at her hands, trying hard to ignore all the exposed amount of skin and muscle that were right in front of her. Azriel seemed to realise it too, hurriedly wrapping his bare arms across his shirtless torso, swallowing. "Good evening. Forgive me, I didn’t expect to see you here at this time."

She shook her head, meeting his gaze again, feeling blood climb up her neck at having all his attention on her. The previous times the two had been alone, Y/n had something else to focus on, something to latch onto to ignore the almost intimidating but also exhilarating feeling of being in the same space as the spymaster.

Now all that distracted her were her hands that clenched around a ridiculously jewelled dagger.

"It’s okay, I didn’t expect to be here either."

Azriel cocked his head, his eyes surveying her from head to toe and back. "What brings you here, then?"

Y/n’s eyes flicked behind him for a moment, taking in the state of the room. Saying it was messy would be an understatement. The bed was bare, covers thrown haphazardly to the ground, chairs and tables strewn about the room in a formation completely at odds with the way they had been just that morning, so neatly placed, with relatively clinical precision.

Her brows furrowed.

"Is everything okay?"

He glanced behind him, scratching the back of his neck. "I was just searching for something." He turned back around, a sheepish grin on his face. "My dagger. I accidentally left it in here this morning, and when I came back to retrieve it later, it was gone."

Y/n’s cheeks coloured as she pulled her hands in front of her body, splaying them wide to show him the weapon. "Was it this one?"

Surprise flickered in his eyes along with relief as he reached out to grab it from her grip. "Where did you find this?"

Y/n focused on his hands, unwilling to meet his eyes.

His ungloved hands.

The horror, the shock and surprising sorrow that took hold of Y/n like a hungry beast pushed the breath out of her lungs, but Y/n forced herself to recover quickly, instead deciding that looking into his eyes was better than unwittingly asking him questions he might not want to answer.

"I- uh- I unintentionally took it with me when I came in to clean this morning, thinking it was cutlery."

Bewilderment took over his expression, yet he said nothing that would have embarrassed her further. "Thank you for bringing it back. It is very precious to me."

Y/n nodded, her fingers twisting around themselves as silence settled once more. There wasn’t anything she wanted to say. And he seemed too busy fawning over his dagger to break the silence.

And anyways, she just wanted to leave and go back to sleep.

"Well, good night. I’ll get going."

She had only taken a few steps down the hallway when- "Are you going to come back?" he blurted out, making her freeze in her tracks.

"I’m not sure… Why do you ask?"

"So I can talk to the head maid, of course."

Her brows furrowed. She turned to look at him, on the other side of the threshold. "And what would be the purpose of it?"

He sighed, looking down at his boots. "Look, I… I think you’re very nice, and I would love to have you as a friend. If you want, that is."

She cocked her head. "You could’ve just said that without going to such lengths to get me in your room."

He shrugged. "I didn’t want to seem like a creep."

Her brows rose, incredulity dripping from her voice. "And yet, you’ve accomplished that goal very well."

A corner of his lips ticked up. "Forgive me?"

If Y/n were not a lowly maid, and were he not one of the High Lord’s closest warriors, Y/n would have clocked him over the head with a pan.

"Good night, Azriel."

Y/n turned, then walked away quickly, ignoring the quiet, amused smile on his face as he stepped deeper into his room and closed the door, just as she ignored the pang of confusing longing in her chest.

Just as she ignored the spark against her ribs.

Maybe I’ve got acidity.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

@berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

@olives-main @hijabi-desi-bookworm @dnfhascorruptedme @littlest-w01f

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @garden-of-runar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

@mellowmusings @dnfhascorruptedme @fuckingsimp4azriel @moonchildlv @curiosandcourioser

[ruinix]

Oh, Quinn might fly away with those hairwings any second now. Someone hold onto him!

He's even looking up like he's preparing for a flight. If you're gonna fly, Quinn, don't go near the sun! It's hot there. I know you're hot! No need to get too hot. Who am I kidding? Quinn is already TOO HOT. The sun's got nothing on him. Plus, he's pretty. So, so, so, so pretty. Haunted but pretty.

But alas, he still looks like our sad canuck. We must protect him from the elements (hockey and hockey shenanigans). Including from himself--i swear if he goes to the barbers anytime soon, i'm gonna lose it. BAN HIM FROM THE BARBERS ALREADY!

Hairwings must thrive! Don't cut it now, Quinn. Not when it's too floofy!

From getty (Jared C. Tilton) (Vancouver Canucks @ Carolina Hurricanes, Jan 10, 2025)

[uncertainwallflower]

WE ARE NO STRANGERS TO ZONKO A @jilymicro-oops written for the @jilymicrofics April 2025 prompt list. Prompts: 1–30. Words: 2144.

I had forgotten about this; it was meant to be for April Fool's Day, but alas. This micro-oops is dedicated to @nena-96 because if she were a holiday, it would be April Fools.

The faded sign of the Hog’s Head Inn groaned, swinging roughly on rusted hinges. Ice latticed the windows, catching the pale midday light and setting the disturbed orange flicker of the sooty candles permeating the filthy panes askitter. Bright snow lay thick over the whole village, with paths cut for access to shops, but here, away from the high street, it was stamped down to a trail of dark sludge. The door to the tavern was heavy, taking two of the boys to ram it with their shoulders before it unstuck from its hold.

They fell inside, a dozen sets of eyes meeting theirs. All were silent. Watching. Waiting.

“Padfoot, I don’t like this, man,” murmured the thinnest boy in the ear of the prettiest. “Let’s just go back.”

“It’s too late for that,” replied the bespectacled boy in the pretty one’s stead. He’d spotted their man—a tramp sitting alone at a round table. He nudged the pretty one, Padfoot, whose long hair swung as he followed the subsequent nod.

“Right,” Padfoot whispered. “Moony, Prongs, you go get drinks. Wormtail and I will butter him up.” Then the boy stepped forward and with a winning smile said: “As you were, gents.”

A croak of laughter from the day drinkers. Dull chatter resumed.

Off Padfoot sauntered with Wormtail in tow, while thin and bespectacled, Moony and Prongs, picked their way to the bar through the straw-strewn floor, steering clear of a hag in the corner.

“Four Butterbeers and—” glancing eye contact “—glass’a whisky,” Moony asked of the barkeeper.

The burly old wizard looked each up and down. “How old are yeh?” he grunted, never ceasing his polishing of a snifter growing greasier with every pass of the grey rag.

Moony swallowed, juvenile Adam’s Apple bobbing. “Seventeen.”

“Oh yeah? What year were yeh born?”

“Nineteen fifty-seven. In July.”

The barkeeper’s eyes rolled beneath his thick brows. Prongs, sensing failure, dug out his coin pouch and set it on the bar, which was an inch thick with filth. Eight Sickles he pulled out for the cost of the Butterbeers, followed by a Galleon. Fat, gold and glistening. “For the whisky. Campbell’s Finest.” A casual shrug. “If you have it.”

The barkeeper scoffed. He set down the snifter and sighed. Then, he walked off, pushing through a small door, which thudded resolutely shut behind him. The boys glanced at one another. Was that it? End of? No. He soon reappeared, huffing and puffing as he hauled a filthy crate of clinking bottles from his storeroom. He set it on the bar with a heavy clank and pulled out four bottles of room-temperature dust-covered Butterbeer. He took the Galleon, pushing the Sickles back at the bespectacled dark-haired boy, then uncorked an unlabelled bottle of dark amber liquid and half filled the grease-streaked snifter. He eyed them crossly as they nodded their thanks, took the drinks and change, and picked their way to the far corner of the tavern where sat their two friends and a stranger.

The stranger—a lean man in thick robes with hollow cheeks and thin hair—sniffed the whisky he was handed then downed it in one, letting out a sharp “Ahhh” as it went down.

“Very nice,” he said, in a smooth sing-song accent. “I’m not being funny, that is a tidy drop.” He set down the glass with a heavy whack, sending the lone tallow candle flickering. “So.” He sucked his teeth. “Why is it that a bunch of Hogwarts kids want to meet with little old me?”

“Who said we’re from Hogwarts?” Padfoot countered.

The man, who was known loosely in particular circles as Owain Ifans, leant back in his chair and crossed his arms. He sucked his teeth again.

“Okay. Maybe we are. What we want is to purchase some…” The pretty boy looked over his shoulder, checking for eavesdroppers, then lowered his voice. The other boys tensed. “Equipment.”

“What sort of equipment?”

“You know——”

“No. Not you.” He pointed to Wormtail, who shrank under the man’s gaze. “You. Let’s hear what the little man has to say.”

Wormtail swallowed, looking to his more confident friends in a panic. “M-me?”

“Yes. You.”

“Well, we——” He dissolved then into a coughing fit.

From his left, Prongs popped the cork from one of the potentially expired bottles of Butterbeer that had sat hitherto untouched and passed it to the choking boy.

“Thanks, James,” he wheezed, “I-I mean Prongs.” He took a long horrified drink, cheeks burning bright red as he gulped down the sweet foamy liquid.

Moony’s face was buried in his hands, Padfoot had set his mouth in an emotionless line, and James was intently uncorking the other three bottles and passing them around.

Owain sighed heavily when the flushing boy had finally recovered. “Alright, here’s what I reckon. I reckon you lot heard about what I sell and thought you’d have yourselves a bit of fun, eh? Bit of bang-bang? Cause a stir at school?” He motioned to the barkeeper for another drink. “Haven’t you ever heard of Zonko’s? Shop down the road? Tell you what, let’s this time forget it. I’m going to enjoy another tidy whisky, you lot are going to toddle off and get yourselves some crackers, and——”

“Look.” To the shock of his three compatriots, it was Wormtail who interrupted the peddler. The barely pubescent boy had gathered up all of his bravery, confidence, strength, set on redeeming himself or dying trying. He leant forwards, pressed his elbows into the table and steepled his fingers, leaving Owain to close his half-gaping mouth in his own time. “We are no strangers to Zonko. We’ve bought his whole range ten times over and, honestly, we want better. We’re looking for something big, and we hear you’re the man to talk to. We’ve heard, in fact, that we won’t get better from any other. The best in the biz. So will you help us? Or should we take our business elsewhere?”

Owain squinted at the blond, sizing him up, having obviously misjudged him the first time. Then he smirked. “Alright, no need to get chopsy.”

He pulled out a sheet of folded parchment and tapped it with his wand, muttering, “Heb ei fai.”

As he unfolded the sheet and set it on the table, they watched words slowly form upon the once-blank surface. The boys grinned at one another then leant in to watch closer.

“A list of my merchandises. I’ve got Chinese Flaming Mountain Powder, Hoods of Hypnosis, Beltaine Spitzers, you name it. But I have to warn you.” He pulled the parchment back a fraction, covering the list with long splayed knobble-knuckled fingers. “These aren’t your average Nose-Biting Teacups.”

The boys nodded eagerly, and he released the enigmatic parchment to their greedy clutches. The barkeeper trudged over, casting a single beady eye on the parchment as he refilled the snifter.

“Leave the bottle, would you? Downright thirsty, I am. There’s lovely.”

The burly wizard did so with a grunt. Meanwhile, the boys read aloud in reverent whispers:

“Loki’s Looping Laces, three Knuts a pair,” read Wormtail.

“Pocket Archipelagos, two tins for ten Sickles,” read Moony.

“Igor’s Inviolable Ice Imps, one Galleon a dozen,” read James.

“Kelper’s Ultimate Destruction Extra-Extra-Extra Large Supernova,” read Padfoot. “Why’s that one crossed out?”

“Can’t get the things into the UK anymore.” Owain shook his head. “Bloody shame.”

The boys sagged.

“But Agni’s Tongues are a cracking alternative. Seven heads on it for maximum effect. More bang for your buck, as you Sais like to say.” He laughed liltingly.

The boys put their heads together. The Djinn in a Bottle they thought best left alone, but Pernicious Pucks and Loki’s Lace Loopers were all too thrilling to the young troublemakers. Finally, when all were in accordance, they passed the parchment back to its owner, who tapped it again with his wand and said this time: “Heb ei eni.” The ink quickly faded, returning the page to its initial blank state.

They watched with starry eyes as the Welshman folded the parchment and tucked it into the inner folds of his robes.

Padfoot grasped his Butterbeer by the neck, held it aloft, and repeated—reverently—the secret phrase he’d been sent by carrier pigeon that bleary morning: “Never a better day was there to pick daffodils.”

Owain Ifans smirked as the boys too raised their half-empty bottles. He picked up his whisky, sang, “Iechyd da!” and sank the full glass in one. “Ahhhhh. Very tidy indeed.”

“Hey, out of curiosity, what’d you use for that?” Sirius asked as Owain corked the bottle with a squeak.

“What?”

The pretty boy nodded towards the pocket in which Owain had stored the parchment. “Your catalogue. Dissappearing ink?”

Owain grinned. “Not likely, boyo.” Then he clapped his hands and rose from his chair, setting two Galleons on the table and slipping the bottle into the opposite side of his robes. “Right, lads. We’ve business to attend to.” And he strolled out the door.

The thin boy twisted in his chair. “Listen, I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling,” he whispered as they re-wrapped their scarves and re-gloved their hands. “I still think this is a bad idea. We can’t trust him. And the barman was pretty eyesy with the list. What if he dobbs on us? It’s not too late to leave.”

Padfoot scoffed.

“He’s given us an out, let’s take it.”

“Don’t be daft, Remus,” Padfoot whispered back as they too rose from the table, their bottles unfinished, and hurried out the door, glad to be leaving the stale inn behind. “He’s testing us. If we don’t show up now, he’ll find us and, I don’t know, kill us. Maybe if Peter hadn’t spewed out James’s name——”

James smacked the pretty boy on the head. “Shut up, Sirius. It won’t help.”

Sirius grumbled but did indeed shut up.

They huddled together to protect from the cold and trudged after the lone set of footprints in the thick pale snow.

The footprints led around to the back of the building. There he stood, fairly tall if not for his hunched nature, wrapped up in cloaks with three hoods drawn low. The red glow of a thin hand-rolled cigarette cast short shadows across his gaunt face. When they reached him, he smiled, snuffing out the butt against the wall and flicking it to the snow. With all the fanfare of a circus ringmaster, he pulled open his cloak to reveal the holy grail of the pubescent practical prankster.

Psychedelic pouches, bandied boxes, unending tubes in the most violent colours, all pinned to the lining. It was all there. Dancing Deluges, Arrows of Apollo, Lickable Love-A-Lot Concentrate, a Soul-Sucking Toilet Seat. Even the infamous Antarctic Almonds—One Bite for the World’s Most Agonising Brain Freeze!

“Tell me now, how far are you lads planning on taking this?”

The boys looked at each other and grinned.

“Full commitment’s what I’m thinking of,” said Peter. “And I think you’ll find my friends agree.”

“Very well then.” And then, to the sound of angels singing above, he pulled back a second cloak. Within was enough to make the heads of four teenagers spin. Here was the Big Stuff, the Bad Stuff, the Flammable Things. Everything they had ever dared to dream of. And more. Snapping-Turtle Rockets, Noxious Nizzle-Bangers, Chinese Dragon Crackers…

They didn’t have enough hands. No matter. Owain, as it turned out, came prepared. He had—likely stolen—bags from Honeydukes and Zonkos, each modified with the best display of undetectable extension charmwork any of the boys had ever seen. One had to wonder how such a nifty wizard ended up dealing through the black market.

“Happy Days, Happy Days,” Owain clucked as he unloaded the goods into the unassuming bags.

It saw their money pouches skint and their chests fit to burst with glee.

“Alright boyos, you know rules and so do I,” said Owain as he pocketed a now heavy sack of coins. “No telling, no blabbing, no snitching, no prattling, no teachers, no mummies, no daddies, no dropping of products and most especially no smoking near your stash. Otherwise, there will be consequences. Got it…? Tidy. Tara then.”

Remus glanced at the cigarette butt which had melted a small divot in the dirty snow. He said nothing.

Owain Ifans trudged down the lane, turning on his heel as he reached a wood-heap and vanishing with a soft pop.

The boys grinned at one another. Sirius let out a holler. Weighed down by bags, they spun about, hurrying past the grimy inn and its swinging sign, past houses and shops, until they were in the High Street, swinging their bags like any other happy shopper, blending in brilliantly with all the other students enjoying the first Hogsmeade trip of the year.

Boy-oh-boy, did Hogwarts have a big storm coming.

AO3

[graciewrote]

♡ Forever and Always

♡ LS2 x Vowels!Reader

♡ Inspired by the lovely @pucksandpower ly!!

♡ Likes and reblogs appreciated!

♡Reqs open!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Staring at her screen in shock, Y/N looks at the signing announcement. Glancing at Logan, sat with a smile on his face, she frowns.

"Darling, did something happen?"

Turning to her boyfriend, "They signed Carlos, but-"

"Oh."

"Oh baby, he didnt tell you? Bastard."

"He's your father. He just probably didn't want to upset you."

"To hell with that, Logan. He was discussing a contract with you and fuckings signs Sainz! It's not fair. To play with someones dreams, their life, like that. He's an ass, my dad or not, he's an ass for that."

Looking at each other now, the pain in Logan's eyes is obvious.

She moves to comfort her love, the man she's loved for years.

He didn't tell her when he signed for Williams, or even when his contract was extended. He knew no matter what, she'd be there. A singular tear slips down his face. His girl more upset than him. He thought he was going to be getting another shot to prove himself, but alas the cards did not play that way.

Phone chiming as Oscar texts, asking if the couple are okay. One single message from her father. 'I'm sorry' is all he wrote.

She knows its a business at the end of the day, but how can one be expected to perform against a grid of 2024 cars, when he is racing one from 2023. When his own boss, future father-in-law is saying how much he wants to replace him. He never stood a chance, he was only a seat warmer. Logan's head is a mess. All that's running through his mind is how much he failed, every fuck up, every DNF, Australia, and the only light he sees is her. His Y/N.

No matter what his future holds, he has his girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan has all of summer break to wallow in sadness. Cuddled with Y/N, watching trashy TV. As quick as ever, Zandvoort rolls around, and he is dreading facing the media.

Luck is not on Logan's side, forced to be on the press conference with Carlos. However Oscar's there too!

Most of the press don't bother to ask him anything, just assuming he won't have a seat and has nothing to add.

Logan's heard things about team principles shitting on Vowels, and the way he's treating Logan.

"And to Logan-" shocks him out of his daydream, "How did your girlfriend react when she found out you hadn't resigned with Williams?"

Logan chuckled, "Uhm, actually, we found out at the same time, James and I had been discussing a contract, and discussing my performance. I had no idea he'd signed Carlos. So yeah, bit of a shock to us both."

"And did you know, Carlos, that James was discussing with Logan?" Everyone looks at Carlos now. His respone is immediate.

"At first yes, I knew Logan was still a contender, but then he'd said that it was just me. So I didn't sign knowing Logan was still discussing contracts"

"And what does everyone think of Andretti appealing the FOM desicion and winning, now they'll be joining the grid for the 2025 season?" Everyone looka shocked at the interviewers question. Everyone but Logan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qatar. Hot. Humid. Sweaty. That's what Y/N feels standing in the Williams garage. Still, she's there to support Logan. And that's what matters. However, she is suspicious. Hiding phone calls, changing his phone password which used to be their anniversary. Logan's become really skittish since Carlos' signing was announced. He won't be cheating on her, she's sure of that. She has two thoughts, he's either joining Mick in the second Andretti Porsche seat, or he's proposing soon. Focusing back on qualifying, she notices all purple sectors for a Williams, her Logan's Williams.

Last minute of Q1. P13. He's done it.

The garage cheers and she just beams with pride.

Logan makes it to Q3, ending up P6.

He's happy with it.

~~~~~~~~

December rolls around with no news on Andretti's other driver. It's a hot topic in the media. Some think it'll be a rookie, some say Kimi or Seb will come back.

Logan grins going into the media pen after his best quali yet. This is his moment. He has a point to make.

"Logan! P5! How're you feeling?" Logan loves being interviewed by Natalie Pinkham.

"Feeling good, car is handling well, I always love racing here. It feels even better knowing next year I got a new team behind me." Smirking, he knows Natalie will pick up what he means. He just needs her to ask.

"New team?" Bingo!

"Yeah, Andretti reached out to me after

Monza, and well, yeah I just had to take the offer! Racing with Mick, and along side him will be fun! He's a good driver. We both had a rough two seasons to start, but the only way is up!"

" Thank you Logan! And good luck!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting down, he glances at his phone.

Over 50 missed calls from his love.

"LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT! I MIGHT JUST KILL YOU YET!" He knows she's not angry, upset he didn't tell her, but not angry.

"You know gold washes me out!"

He laughs, of course she makes a joke.

That's why he loves her, she knows him better than anyone.

"Marry me"

Shit. He had a whole plan. He was gonna take her to Venice. They love Venice.

"Yes. I found the ring, two weeks ago, but I know you Lo, you have a whole plan. So my answer is yes. When you ask me properly. It's yes."

Giggling they embrace and share a tender kiss. "I'm so proud of you. I love you Lo, forever and always"

"Forever and always baby, me and you against the world"

[oasis-nadrama]

About the way Cloud Strife's friends tread his mental health issues

Oasis Nadrama, 27/04/2025

[ WARNING: Final Fantasy VII Rebirth endgame spoilers - Mentions of trauma, grief, murder and PTSD ]

These days we see a lot of people wondering why Tifa, Barret and others don't say something, don't challenge Cloud, don't confiscate his sword, etc. But there are a lot of things to keep in mind before judging them.

- Most members of the group absolutely miss a HUGE part of Cloud's mental collapse: the Tifa/Cloud and Aerith/Tifa exchanges are private, and no one sees our favourite chocobo mane attempting to murder Tifa at Gongaga.

- They are all tormented, ravaged by complicated trauma and PTSD, as highlighted by the trials. Furthermore, they all have their own new pains to face, tied up to the old ones. To take a particularly strong example, Barret has to deal with the horrible death of his BEST FRIEND and father of his adoptive daughter. This event alone is the kind of moment that can reduce people to shambles. All of our protagonists are doing their best, bravely facing impossibly painful circumstances.

- They all have to kill people occasionally. They for sure aren't simply "stunning" all of these Shinra troops during the two games.

- The group spends the entire game (and the previous one!) on the run from a murderous megacorporation controlling gigantic resources, while trying to protect Jenova-infected victims and to hunt down the most powerful warrior in the world doubling as an atrocious, hallucinations-inducing Eldritch horror.

- Cloud's SOLDIER persona was built from the start with a significant amount of coldness and detachment. We know the inner Cloud is more sensitive than this, Tifa knows, Aerith knows, but to the others this part of him is not a front. When they see him indifferent to human deaths, or slaughtering helpless Shinra soldiers, for them, it's in a continuum with Cloud's general personality.

- Cloud's comrades may think sometimes he's going too far but again, they are living in a world of extreme violence, perpetrating homicidal violence themselves (to defend themselves, other and the Planet), and struggling with their own traumas and issues.

- Cloud's advanced stages of moral degradation only become apparent in the Temple of the Ancients. By this point, all of the Avalanche splinter cell members are not simply comrades: they have developed powerful friendship with him. So they will excuse him, develop their own denial, as alas we often do regarding people we love. It's hard to talk about such things, it's hard to think about them.

- It is also a countdown by this point, they are all running to reach the Black Materia as soon as possible, and overcoming a storm of terrible obstacles, so to them his mental state is a simple cloud in a larger tempest.

- Cloud's mask falls after the Temple of the Ancients, but by this point it is difficult for other members to broach the topic. And since they are rushing to save Aerith, they may think it is not the best time.

- Afterwards, Aerith dies, and this loss represents extreme suffering for all of them. They all loved her, they all had a strong link to her; they may even have been her friends more than they are Cloud's, since Aerith was pretty open about her feelings and always ready to help, and they treasured her as a human being, a comrade, an incredible magician, an artist, a confident and the last survivor of the Cetra. Remember, she even extended the olive branch to Cait Sith after his betrayal, before Cloud stopped her from doing so; this can be seen as an indication of her humane, attentive, strong and generous nature. It is impossible to overstate how much Aerith counted for them, and their rage and despair can be felt during the entire final battle.

- Then Tifa, Barret, Cid, Yuffie, Vincent, Cait Sith, Nanaki see Cloud completely collapsing, and sinking into denial, at the end of the water burial. What are they supposed to do? They loved her. They knew how much Cloud loved her, and how much he must hurt, how much guilt he must feel - especially since they all left the burden of responsibility to him and him alone when they opened the Whispers veil in the middle of the Forgotten Capital. Are they supposed to speak now?

So yeah, Cloud's friends didn't say anything. They didn't do anything. And they won't say or do anything for quite some time, until the tragic reveals at the North Crater in the upcoming Part 3.

Can we blame them?

[middlenamesage]

Neptune at the first degree of the zodiac and why I’m excited for the Neptune in Aries era

If you’re interested in growing your confidence ♈️ in your faith 🔵 (faith here doesn’t mean dogmatic beliefs it means tapping into your inner wellsprings of trust and strengthening your relationship with spirit however that looks for you) or interested in translating your secure faith to personal empowerment ♈️ that means something in the world, Neptune in Aries is a sign of hope for you!

Especially relevant to my second point, Saturn, the builder on earth, will also be in Aries soon enough. Saturn and Neptune come together for a very near to exact conjunction this July, but due to retrogrades won’t see their official exact conjunction until the onset of Pisces season next year. Where they’ll join at the very first degree of the zodiac, where Neptune is now (0° Aries!), which is such potent symbolism for rebirth. I’m curious to see what new spiritual understandings find footing in our physical realm (Saturn).

Personally this Aries solar season will be memorable for me as a time of growing my faith in my personal power (I’d describe it more accurately as applying the faith I already had in ways that empower my personal goals ♈️ on earth now) and for that I give much credit to Neptune’s Aries ingress on March 30. This season has felt like the very best of Mars to me, like I’ve been finally using Mars in productive ways across the board… it makes sense when the realm of spirituality 🔵 is already where I felt a lot more confident, than functioning in our physical world.

The Neptune in Pisces era was from 2011/2012 - 2025, and there’s still one retrograde back into Pisces for a few months starting in October. Astrology is always a highly multidimensional picture, but just speaking on the archetype of Neptune in Pisces, it just seemed like too much… hard energy to access in ways productive or groundable on earth. Like being tossed around in the ocean. I’m a Pisces rising at bold 1° and a 12th house North Node that really pulls me into related territory, and even I wasn’t a big fan of the energy nor feeling that capable with it in retrospect. I would notice when following the transits (especially the Moon’s conjunctions each month) that Neptune in Pisces when highlighted would often be the most energy zapping and/or heavy/hopeless/foggy feeling of Piscean and Neptunian energy.

Neptune in Aries will help people to cultivate relationships with spirituality that feel more personally empowering. Neptune in Pisces is in theory the most mystical it gets, but that meant also very hard to work with on EARTH. As souls doing this human experience, if we don’t have a solid relationship with ego (self ♈️), we won’t be able to carry out our missions on earth. The risks of Neptune in Aries I imagine is that some people might develop God complexes that aren’t empowerment, more so unchecked, blinding ego. Knowing your divine power is only healthy if you can keep the understanding alive in your vision and actions that every one of us is divine reflections of the whole.

Healthy representation of Neptune in Aries would be wanting the spiritual empowerment you feel to start fires in others’ hearts ❤️‍🔥 (this wouldn’t look like preaching though; Neptune is the much more open-ended reflection of faith and beliefs than Jupiter can be). Unhealthy representation of this transit would be trying to separate your notion of your power from others’.

Alas, I do have a feeling that cults trying to attract people with messages that make them feel like they could become uniquely God-like, might be on the rise during Neptune in Aries. In general, I’m going to be aware of influences from spiritual sources that promote notions of finding your power which disempowers others, people convincing themselves they have spiritual powers in false ways I don’t want to engage with, rash actions in connection with spiritual faith, and messages or acts promoting self destruction or violence. Not the sides of Aries that have me excited about this transit! With that in mind, I have been considering that some people might be driven to more outwardly (self) destructive acts, in connection with their beliefs.

Overall, I am hopeful for less confusion, fogginess, and deceit; for societies and individuals to start down the path leading to looking a little less lost. And for people to take personal empowerment to heart in their relationships with spirit (however they conceptualize faith or God). There will be roughly 14 years in total of this transit and it’s bound to be groundbreaking for the world. Currently Mercury has been conjunct Neptune in Aries, and I’ve been writing about my gratitude for what I’ve been noticing in my own life so far. With Venus out of retrograde and now heading towards conjunction with Neptune, I’m inspired to share my thoughts of hope on this transit with more people.

You’re all made in the image of the Universe. Being yourself with CONFIDENCE will unlock the right doors for you in the Universe.

- Neptune in Aries 🔵🔥

[ofliterarynature]

FEBRUARY 2025 WRAP UP

[ loved liked okay nope dnf (reread) book club* ]

First Test • Changeless • Penric and the Shaman • The Poisoner's Handbook • Everfair • Shades of Milk and Honey • Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear • The Archive of the Forgotten* • Penric's Fox • The Girl from the Sea • (Wizard's First Rule) • Blameless

* * * * *

First Test (graphic novel) - Protector of the Small is one of my favorite series of all time I think, so I was very excited to see we were getting a graphic novel adaptation! Even if it then took me almost a year to read. This was fun to flip through and I had a good time, but not really anything stronger than that (it could never match up to the book). And it cut enough from the story that I wonder how it reads for someone unfamiliar with the original.

Changeless - I wasn't entirely sold on the first book, but decided to pick up the second one anyway because it was at least entertaining. I liked this one a bit better! Probably because all of that messy introductions and getting-together stuff was out of the way now. Still quite silly, but that ending! Harsh. I had to pick Blameless up as soon as I could, and honestly? It was fine, but speaking from the farther future, I think it's where the series started to lose me.

Penric and the Shaman / Penric's Fox - enjoying these very much! It was nice to see some continuity of side characters - going in I knew Bujold wasn't writing these chronologically so I had now idea how the chronological order was going to actually shape up.

The Poisoner's Handbook - picked this up after seeing it mentioned on a tumblr post. Was a very easy listen on audiobook and I had a decent time! Nothing too interesting though, because I've listened to a lot of medical history nonfiction for some reason, and it tends to repeat. For some topic crossovers, check out The Radium Girls or The Divorce Colony

Everfair - I really *wish* I could wholeheartedly recommend this one, but I've just got too many reservations about it. The premise is fascinating and the writing is very good, truly. BUT. It's a very long book, and it's mostly told in the style of short vignettes that skip between character, place, and time! Time!! The next bit could be a few days from the last, or months, or years! (Mostly months or years :/ ) With such sprawling worldbuilding and a large cast of characters it never really felt like a cohesive work and was very frustrating and ultimately dissatisfying to read. I bet the author's short fiction is very good though.

Shades of Milk and Honey - I really wish I'd written some notes about this earlier because I have to confess, I've forgotten almost entirely everything about it. Sometimes I wanted to like it, but it never really won me over. One thing I can say in its defense - while not trying to be a 1:1 Jane Austen retelling, it manages to incorporate numerous subtle nods to characters and relationships from her works that I enjoyed and found much more successful (and less cringe) than most direct reimaginings.

Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear - the new Wayward Children installment! As always a nice read, though I still prefer the ensemble books. I hope we'll see Nadya in them again.

The Archive of the Forgotten - we read the first book in this series for book club and I did like it, so I'm not sure what's up with this one. I picked this up on audio as a break from a longer title that was dragging, excited to read something interesting! Only to realize after the first day that I was bored to tears. If I'd been reading it on my own I'd probably have dnf'd, but alas, book club, and I didn't hate it enough to not finish it. It wasn't really a hit with anyone else either but we've for some reason decided to see the series through.

The Girl from the Sea - I've been putting this one off for a long time now it feels like, and for some reason my expectations had dropped really low. But I really liked it! Both a great story and great art that I loved looking at.

Wizard's First Rule - reread of an old favorite from high school - I've already spoken about this one a bit elsewhere and knew it would probably be bad going in, but the rant I could give!!! On a sentence level the writing is entirely passable, but everything else? The characters are all kind of similar and one dimensional, the worldbuilding is unimaginative, the villains are so unbelievably vile that's it's boring (I fast forwarded through most of their scenes), it takes itself so incredibly seriously regardless, and even with the "heroes" there's something definitely off. I had to shut my brain off for so much of this book in order to not get too hung up on it, because it's pretty obvious to me now that there's something rancid about the core beliefs of the book and it infects everything else. TLDR: it's bad and I don't recommend it under any circumstances. Still compels me though, I'm tempted to keep reading.

[tokiro07]

Toki Reads Shonen Jump 2025, Issue #19: Mismatch Week

One Piece: While Luffy attempts to nurse Loki back to health and only makes things worse, Loki compares Luffy's admiration of Shanks to his own admiration of a certain pirate he was too young to journey with as a child; Jinbe manages to put out the fires and remove one of the threats to the children, but in doing so gains Gunko's attention. / The fact that at any time, any two characters can be revealed to have a connection is one of my favorite things about One Piece, as it makes the world feel that much more real; the fact that Loki saw something admirable in Xebec also suggests that he's not a purely malevolent figure as has been hinted thus far, but it's One Piece, so that doesn't really come as a surprise

Roboco: On a camping trip, the group gets up to one of their classic food competitions, and Bondo endorses smoking; upon retiring to their cabins, the group finds that Second Year has been murdered??? / Good This certainly won't stick, this guy seems to get killed every time he shows up

Sakamoto: With killing now easily accessible and decriminalized, the moral barrier quickly erodes as the less scrupulous kill for petty reasons and the more righteous kill in retaliation, resulting in a cascade of murder and the deaths of over 300,000 Japanese citizens; Seba and the JCC team dissect the guns that have been distributed and formulate a way to stop the killing by force-locking them even before the bullets are fired. / While there's no way of knowing if human morality is truly so easily shattered in such a situation, it certainly feels logical and makes for a compelling scenario; that said, 300,000 shots were fired, but that doesn't mean every single one successfully killed its target, though elaborating on that would kind of take the impact away from the scene

EluSam: Regretfully, Tokiyuki takes Fubuki's head so as to reduce enemy morale, and soon after meets up with reinforcements; meanwhile, Takauji finds much more trouble facing his brother than he anticipated. / I feel like I should recognize Tokiyuki's allies, but alas, I do not; outside of the first scene, this chapter really didn't resonate with me, but that's probably just because I'm not invested in war stories

Witch Watch: Morihito is asked to play the role of a mascot that gets hit by a truck in a traffic safety skit, but one of Nico's spells accidentally brings the mascot to life. / A shockingly macabre chapter that came coincidentally as I was thinking back on my high school's drunk driving demonstration, where they staged a car crash, arrest and fatality; I found the experience distressing, but I guess Japanese elementary schoolers are made of tougher stuff, or at least aren't worried about a mascot's wellbeing

Blue Box: Chinatsu allows herself to bask in the rewards of her efforts and wins her team their third game of the Winter Cup, but sadly they lose in the fourth; now the pressure is on for Taiki to win Nationals, to make good on his promise to Chinatsu. / I'm not all too surprised that Chinatsu lost from a narrative perspective, as it raises the stakes for Taiki and gives the impression that he won't necessarily win just by virtue of being the protagonist, but it feels kind of like a letdown to me because I was just as invested in Chinatsu's success as Taiki's if not more so

Akane: Shomei's performance concludes, and Akane realizes that the reason he refuses to teach her God of Death is because their styles are incompatible - his based on rigid consistency, hers on fluid reactivity; Akane resolves to prove she can match his style at an upcoming competition that Shomei is set to judge, which in turn prompts Hikaru to join the fray. / Let's go, lesbians!!! I think Hikaru's my favorite character, so I'm excited to see her make a comeback; I also really enjoy Akane's logic in refuting Shomei's - insisting that she can only be fluid would paradoxically mean that she's being too rigid in her own scope, which ties back to what she said to Issho about refusing to limit herself

Kill Blue: Juzo loses the second challenge to Chisato instantly, prompting Noren to reveal why Juzo is trying to become StuCo President; Chisato gives Juzo one last chance in a serious cooking competition, with a budget of only 500 Yen; Juzo uses the money for train fare and returns with a wild boar that he hunted himself, giving him the edge in ingredient quality. / I did ask for a believable and satisfying turnaround, and this is exactly the kind of Gordian Knot solution that I love to see; it reminds of the bit in Hinomaru Zumo where Hinomaru has to get food with only 100 Yen and uses it to call in a delivery that he puts on his master's tab, so naturally I'm endeared to this solution

Nue: Gakuro's Hollow Weapon unlocks a new ability, Yokaku, a familiar that can isolate and devour specific targets, allowing it to overcome two back-to-back specific scenarios that Gakuro finds himself in - first, removing his own Command Energy from Ishu's webbing to escape it, and then removing poison that Raisei booby trapped Ishu with; having been abandoned by Raisei and rescued by Gakuro, Ishu decides to betray Raisei and reveal that he plans to resurrect the Hyo in three days, prompting Nue to declare that Gakuro and Ishu need to get married for some reason. / I'm glad that Ishu is joining the harem, but I'm a little worried for what this sudden proposal means for the rest of the team's romantic endeavors; I don't hate Gakuro's new ability, but I wish it were more cohesive with either his shadow manipulation OR with Kasuza's abilities since she's the one who awakened it

Kagurabachi: After Kunishige's death, Yura approached Samura and explained the plan to retrieve Magatsumi and use its True Realm to restore the land that had been destroyed by the Malediction; to prevent a second Malediction and protect Iori, Samura accepted an alliance with the Hishaku and had his and Iori's memories of each other sealed; back in the present, Iori has broken the seal and tells Chihiro she wants to see her father, prompting him and Hiruhiko to draw their Enchanted Blades and thus summon Samura to their location. / God damn, that's a hell of an entrance! Also my apologies for something I said last week, I misunderstood and thought Samura sold out Kunishige, but that was just him receiving the news over the phone, and he only joined the Hishaku AFTER they gave him reason to think their plan could work

Chojo: Hanazono makes curry for Chojo, and the feelings she put into making it trap him in an illusion of the ingredients at boot camp. / A bit unorthodox, but this method of showing her determination to make food that Chojo would enjoy was weirdly endearing for me

Astro Royale: Tendo reveals that the Astro Battle Royale was a ploy to gather strong human emotions like greed into one place, and uses the Daybreak Ore to absorb the energy of the audience and become a monster; however, it's also revealed that Shikaba lured Hibaru to join the tournament specifically to betray Tendo and stop his plan; all of the current Yotsurugi allies gather to face off against Tendo. / Perhaps I'm not reading very closely, but it kind of seems like that contradicts everything that Shikaba has said and done so far, like TRYING TO KILL TAIRA! It kind of feels like Wakui is just making an excuse for things to shift in Hibaru's favor and didn't plan it that far in advance, and if he did, I'm not nearly invested enough to understand the groundwork he laid for it

Kiyoshi: The First and strongest Demon Lord, Tonjinchi, descends upon the team that just barely survived fighting Bakku Yoraku, and proceeds to take them all out one by one with no difficulty, though they survive just long enough for Tsurugi to arrive and save the day. / I've said before that this arc feels like a Hail Mary and that Usui is trying to show off the appeal of his cast to get people invested, so hopefully this will play out similar to Undead Unluck where the first half gets us vaguely familiar with everyone and THEN they get fleshed out in the back half; otherwise, this big group clash of people whose names I don't know against a giant wall just doesn't really do much for me

Hima-Ten: Tenichi tries to invite Himari to the fireworks, but due to a work conflict she turns him down; Tenichi goes with Honoka, but his mind is consistently on Himari; Himari laments her choice, only for Tenichi to arrive with some footage of the fireworks and a mysterious prize he won at the festival to salvage the night. / This seems like a sudden development in Himari's favor and admittedly it's got me nervous, but at face value it's a cute moment

Ichi: Ichi manages to regroup with Desscaras and explains the situation to her; she formulates a plan for Ichi to draw the guards' attention, leaving her the opportunity to interrogate Bakugami. / That brief smile from Desscaras when Ichi said he'd made a friend was so sweet, and a great set up for how funny it was that that still wasn't good enough to convince her that Gokuraku was on the up-and-up; while this plan seems fairly straightforward, this is obviously going to lead into the Bad News phase, where Desscaras also becomes a wanted criminal until Bakugami reveals his true colors at the Advent Celebration

Shinobi: Yodaka is invited to have cake at Aoi's condo, which turns out to be in a secret safehouse employed entirely by ninjas that are guarding VIPs; Mimizuku explains to Yodaka that the higher ups want him off the mission for losing his edge, but that he advocated for him to stay because of his emotional connection to Aoi, and offers to train him to overcome his newfound weakness; intruders enter the condo, which Mimizuku sees as a good opportunity for training. / I'm glad that Mimizuku is in Yodaka's corner - Yodaka still has to prove himself to the higher-ups, but at least he has someone guiding him and doesn't have to struggle on his own

Syd Craft: Syd and Elio drop in on the landlady's daughter, lazy genius inventor Hakua, for a visit, but end up in a compromising situation when one of her robots gets a bit too handsy. / She's cute, but...how old is she? She was so small in that five-year flashback, but she's very much not now...

Embers: Despite Haitani's confidence in his research, the moment he gets to the field he learns that praxis is a lot tougher than theory, and he ends up getting in his team's way constantly; when Captain Bugai pulls him aside, he's sure he's about to get benched, but instead gets some sage advice - to focus on his using strengths, not strengthening his weakness. / I'm glad to see Bugai encouraging Haitani, and I really love moments where characters get to really show off their value; it reminds me a lot of Luffy's "I can beat you" speech, as it illustrates how Haitani fits in the team rather than making him a one-man army

Beethoven: Now officially a student at Reiro Academy, Yaso meets up with Kahoin, who introduces him to the head of the piano program, Ai Aigou; despite her friendly appearance and reputation, Ai immediately starts treating Yaso with disdain, as she's actually the granddaughter of his former master, Tsutomu Mikagehara; meanwhile, Lexi and Marsha make their way to Japan and conjecture on what Beethoven and the necromancer are trying to accomplish; while we don't know the necromancer's purpose, Beethoven has begun work on his 33rd sonata. / Ai being Mikagehara's granddaughter is an interesting development, partially because it's a pretty logical inclusion, but also because there's a lot of nuance to why she'd resent Yaso; not only did he more or less force Mikagehara to push himself while ill (so she blames him for his death), he also went against his teachings and played to dominate the piano (betraying him), and then quit the piano entirely (putting the last few years of his life to waste); if any one of those circumstances were different, her opinion of Yaso might be at least somewhat less harsh, but that particular combination of factors serves to paint Yaso as poorly as possible, and turns Ai into a living manifestation of the insecurity that plagued Yaso for the last two years - that he's not worthy of making music anymore

Ruri Dragon: Ruri learns that human and dragon society are at odds and currently in a truce, and Takemoto asks which society she'd prefer to live in; as she's not particularly bothered either way, she chooses to stay as a human simply so as not to make anyone feel responsible for her leaving, on the condition that Takemoto continues to ensure she doesn't hurt anyone; Ruri has a nice little heart to heart with her friends about how difficult she finds it to navigate human relationships and how they want to keep hanging out with her to help her learn better; soon after, a new ice-based ability manifests itself. / It's interesting to me that Ruri never considers the fact that she knows nothing about dragon society when making her decision - this implies that she's so disinterested in society as a whole that she's just accepted she'll be the odd one out no matter what, and only chooses to stay as a human for the sake of the small circle she knows she has any semblance of a connection with; I also wonder if her very existence is the basis of the non-aggression pact, like her birth was the impetus for the treaty and any violence against her could potentially break the agreement; this doesn't seem like the kind of series that would bring up a huge political incident like that, but it suddenly seems like a distinct possibility

Across Akane being a bad fit for learning Shomei's Rakugo style, Yodaka being better at solo missions than guard or team missions, and Haitani ruining his defensive skills by trying to switch to being an all-rounder, there's a lot of analysis on mismatching a character's skills and placement this week. What's more interesting, though, is how they all choose to address it - using it as an opportunity to learn a new skillset, proving the doubters wrong, and refocusing on core strengths. They're all different, and none of them are wrong

This Week's Top 3:

Sakamoto Days for how well it sells its dramatic hypothetical

Kagurabachi for its absolutely gorgeous two-page spread

Embers for Haitani's character moment

Aww, Nue's streak broke! It was really close, too, honestly! The emotional weight of Gakuro saving Ishu by absorbing the poison from her into himself was pretty good, but it was held back by how repetitive it felt for Gakuro to use his new power twice in one chapter rather than having it spread out, plus the weird turn that Gakuro has to marry Ishu now. I'm gonna let Kawae cook before I assume that the poly ending is dead in the water, but that's a hell of a hiccup along the way!

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Sharp March 2025 - 1. Patronus

Let me start off by saying this - I'm sorry. Last year I was being all hot stuff, doing all the prompts and even drawing illustrations for them, but this year, well... I hope to at least be able to write everything, but alas, I have only managed a few prompts, with no illustrations. It's been a tough few months, I've been terribly busy because of my work, and it took a toll on my mental health and inspiration. I would still like to complete all of them, but I'm afraid it won't be all in March and might sprawl into the following months as well.

Thank you in advance everyone who'll take the time to read the silliness I wrote, and I apologise again.

Patronus (1.5k)

If Aesop Sharp never saw another Dementor in his life, it would be much too soon. As much as he tried, he was never able to forget the first time he faced the horrible guards of the wizarding prison.

He was a young man back then, just out of the Auror training, and on one of his first jobs to learn the ropes. He was accompanying an older experienced Auror into Azkaban to interrogate some criminal. "You'll be here often enough, best you get used to it fast," he said.

Aesop had been cocky then, completely certain he'd be fine, even after his temporary partner told him that he knew a fellow who after having been brought there ended up being violently sick immediately after they'd disappeared from the fortress.

After all, what could go wrong? Aesop and Ashley had been capable of casting the patronus charm since their sixth year of Hogwarts, and sometimes did so just for the fun of it, watching Ashley's bay mare trot in circles with Aesop's brown bear. Ashley would sometimes tease him that his patronus was speaking through him, when Aesop would grumble morosely about something.

His cockiness plummeted from a hundred right into the negatives, however, when he and the older man entered the dreaded prison. He swallowed much too loud for his own liking, and his legs turned to lead. Suddenly, he felt very cold, as if he took a plunge straight into the Black lake during winter dressed only in his underwear.

"Unless you want to become an early lunch for them, boy, I recommend you cast your patronus," the older Auror said, almost bored. He himself showed little reaction to being among these walls, with the dark figures flowing around him, and there was a challenge in his eyes.

Aesop weakly raised his wand. "E-expecto..." he stammered, then took a deep breath, which he regretted. The cold air invaded his lungs and made him cough. Recovering, he raised his wand higher, and tried harder: "Expecto Patronum!"

However, much to his horror, only a weak mist left the tip of his wand, and dissolved into nothingness within mere seconds. He swallowed again, panic creeping up on him. "E-expecto patronum!" he yelped again, but now there wasn't even the mist, and the foul creatures were drawing closer, becoming rather interested now that it seemed the young Auror was quite defenceless against them.

"Come on, boy," the older Auror spoke with a surprising patience, seemingly still unbothered by the looming dread, "you know as well as I that we're about to become a meal unless you get your head straight."

Aesop bit his lip and shut his eyes. A happy memory, he needed to stop panicking and instead focus on a happy memory, damn it! The cold was making it hard to think!

The cold...

In his mind, he saw snow, pure and white, almost blindingly so. His neck and back were cold, following a well targeted snowball that broke apart upon impact, and slid right under his scarf and the collar of his coat. A girl's laughter, which promptly turned into a  squeal, when a different snowball was suddenly hurled right at her. Her short brown hair bobbed as she tried to run around him, but Aesop didn't give her a chance to get away.

He tackled Dinah onto the ground, and pinned her mittened hands on each side of her head. She laughed and kicked and tried to buck him off, but it was no use. Aesop admired how little snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes, and the way her cheeks were flushed from the cold. He kissed her.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Suddenly, there was light. A strong, glowing current of magic shot out of his wand, and enveloped Aesop and his partner like a warm blanket. Aesop found himself breathing a little easier, shielded from the cold and the darkness, and the horrible dread these creatures made him feel.

"That's it, son," came the older Auror's voice, "that's it. Good job."

Good job, son.

---

Aesop's eyes closed again. Now surrounded by the warmth, he almost felt like he was somewhere else entirely, sitting in front of the fireplace on the ground, cross legged, a sketchbook laid on his legs, and his entire right hand black from the drawing coal. On the paper, several fluffy sheep were grazing, little bells on their collars, and there was even a ram with curled horns.

It was a gift for his mum's birthday which was coming next week, and he made use of the fact Magdala Sharp was currently out, meeting a healer over in St Mungo's. Careful to only grip the sketchbook in his clean left hand, he went to find his father.

The tall man was sitting at the table in the dining room, poring over some newspapers and nursing a delicate china cup of tea. "Daddy, look!" he said excitedly, holding the sketchbook out for the Sharp patriarch to take. Theodore Sharp's eyes instantly left the paper, and the crease between his brows disappeared, as he instead focused on his small son.

"What do we have here then?" he asked, and carefully took the sketchbook out of Aesop's hold. However, before he looked at it, he laid it upon the table, and reached towards Aesop once more, easily picking the small boy up, and sitting him up on his leg.

He then finally looked at the drawing, and gave a low whistle. "Would you look at that!" he said, observing the lines. "It's for mummy's birthday," Aesop explained, and carefully pointed to one of the fluffy clouds on dark sticks, "it's sheep."

"Indeed it is!" Theodore said, "And this, if I'm not mistaken, is a ram, isn't it?" Aesop replied in enthusiastic agreement.

"Seems we have a little Edgar Degas on our hands, don't we?" his father asked, his tone soft as he wrapped his arms around him. Aesop turned around to look at him: "Who's that?" After a few seconds, Theodore Sharp merely chuckled.

"Doesn't really matter. Remind me to take you and your mum to a gallery sometime," he spoke, his voice as warm and caring as always. It made Aesop feel warm too, warm and safe.

"Good job, son."

---

"Expecto Patronum"

He said again, not really knowing why, considering they were already shielded. However, he was more than glad he did. He watched with a strange sort of happiness as a huge brown bear made entirely of light and magic suddenly charged against the Dementors, making them scramble to get away from him and the older Auror.

"Well, I'll be..." Aesop heard a voice, but paid little mind to it, trying to hold on to the warm feeling in his chest for as long as he could.

Several seconds later, all of the Dementors flew away to hide in some other corridors of the prison, and the bear stood unmoving in front of Aesop and his partner. And then it gently dissipated, casting the area around them in darkness once more. Aesop was glad to find that it at least wasn't so bloody cold anymore.

He looked at the older Auror, who stood with his arms crossed still looking at the spot where the bear stood a few seconds ago.

"Well," he said only, "that was quite a display."

Aesop said nothing, only breathed out in relief. Then, however, his eyes grew wide as the other man turned around to leave. "Wait," Aesop said, "didn't you say we had someone to interrogate?"

The older man turned and chuckled: "Oh, we don't. This was something of a... well, not a test, per se, more like an initiation. If you've got what it takes, I suppose. And you, Mr Sharp, have just earned yourself some solid bragging rights. Come along."

And, just like that, the pair of them left the horrible place Azkaban was, and Aesop was very happy to remain stable on his feet once they disapperated. Which reminded him of the story his temporary partner told him before. When he turned to him, he found a small chocolate bar extended towards him.

"Always better to have something sweet at the ready after dealing with Dementors. You'd do well to remember that," the Auror said.

Aesop thanked him and accepted the sweet. As he unwrapped the bar, broke off a piece and plopped it into his mouth, he once more looked at the older Auror.

"That fellow you told me about," he said, chewing on the chocolate and feeling it further calm him down, "the one who ended up sick after being in there for the first time. Did he stay in the office, or did he end up going someplace else?"

The older Auror chuckled, and leaned against a nearby tree stump: "While it was a rather nasty shock, I decided to stay anyway. Was not easy, but then again this job never is."

Aesop looked at him with disbelief. "Oh, you sod!" he said suddenly, making the other man chuckle further before he raised his arms. "As I said - initiation. I meant what I told you, though - that was a bloody good job there.

"Aesop Sharp. I reckon we can expect great things from you."

---

Thank you for reading. You can check this little story out on my AO3

If I do manage to finish all of them, I'll make a masterlist. But, for the time being, you can find all my entries on my blog under the Sharp March 2025 tag. Love you, bye!

[instruth]

🎶A SONG OF MY SOUL🎶

🎼

Do you remember me, my love?

It is I, Prudence, your beloved.

How long I have waited for your return.

I love you - oh, how dearly I miss you.

You've been away too long, captured and lured

To the remotest world of externalism,

Where you have become deceived.

Your perception of me is illusory,

Even though your desire still persists,

For you have forgotten my face.

🎼

You have known me to the deepest part of me,

Alas! Now I exist in you,

Only among the distortions of your mind,

Of physical symbols that soon will disintegrate.

I am reduced to fantasy and imagination,

Fulfilling your longings for you.

I become a myth, a mere image,

Representing what you consider unreachable.

Yet I, Prudence, am your only true love,

But do you remember me, my love?

🎼

I have waited patiently for you,

Sharing you with the outside world,

Yearning for you unceasingly,

To embrace the least part of you,

Even if that be only a momentary glimpse,

In the twilight that separates our existence.

Like Moon and Sun, we have drifted apart.

I watch you go - oh, how it grieves me so,

For I can see you suffering even more,

All lost in a land of faded memories.

🎼

Today, my love, you have chosen to come home,

Recalling past realities through present dreams.

I am rewarded, for at last, you are awakened.

Today, you recognize me in my essence;

And I rejoice with praise and gratitude for this blessing.

We were created as one, meant eternally for each other,

In perfect compatibility - with you in me and I in you,

As I, Prudence, submit to you in inexhaustible intimacy,

Laying down with you in our matrimonial nest,

For this is a reunion - our most sacred union.

©Johnny J P Lee

31 January 2025

🎶A Poetic Love Song of the Soul🎶

Photos Credit, Soulful Images

- by Sanjogsonsand

[guerrerense]

Snowbound At Sawyers - Take 1 por David Blazejewski Por Flickr: Back when I was younger the Conway Scenic Railroad was a strictly seasonal operetion and would largely shut down during the winter months. In recent years however it has become a year round operation running trains to Conway all winter long and for the first time this winter running trains through Crawford Notch in the snow. Not wanting to miss out on the chance for some snowy winter shots along the old Mountain Sub I made the trip up on the long President's Day weekend to try for some snowy images. Alas the Saturday trip featured just CSRR 255 solo with five cars meaning the return trip which is the better chase photographically would be long hood forward which just didn't interest me. Regardless, I did make the trip up through the Notch for a few signature shots and then called it a day. However, I'd specifically chosen this particular weekend since the railroad had trains scheduled on back to back days so I held out hope Sunday would be better. And indeed when I awoke in the morning the predicted snow was coming down and things were looking up when I saw that the railroad had MUed both of their GP38s for the trip to Crawford. With 252 trailing I was looking forward to the return chase east later in the day with the classic pseudo Maine Central schemed loco leading. Alas....this hoped for redemption was foiled when the railroad soon realized the snow was accumulating too fast and with no plow train running ahead of them it was too risky to head all the way to Crawfords so they decided they would travel only as far as Sawyers River and run around there...but it would get even worse later....so stay tuned. After pausing to pick up a trackman in Bartlett to ride out to assist with shoveling switches they have finally made it as far as they'll go here at MP 74.8 (as measured from the former Portland Union Station) on the old Maine Central Mountain Subdivision. The snow is still coming down, and you can see how deep it is covering the siding which is actually to the left of the train though you'd never know! Ultimately they would be stopped here for about two hours and instead of attempting to traverse the siding and completely run around the train they dug out only the west switch and then cut off the lead unit and ducked it into the siding and then pulled the train by with the second unit in order to let the former lead unit couple up to the rear end to lead the train back. On the rear of the train is CSRX 210, the third and most recently acquired dome car on the railroad. Built by Budd in 1954 for Northern Pacific's famed Northcoast Limited, it came to the Conway Scenic in 2022 from the defunct Orford Express dinner train in Quebec. From 1877 to 1928 the 8 mile long Sawyers River Railroad (a logging operation) connected here although the MEC agency at this spot was closed in 1921. Two historic structures survive to this day, the section men's car house (blocked by the train) and the foreman's dwelling in the distance at left, both now privately owned. One interesting fact is that the house used to also be located on the right (north) side of the mainline but was moved across in the 1950s when Route 302 was relocated. Not wanting a private grade crossing here they chose to move the home instead! Sawyers River Harts Location, New Hampshire Sunday February 16, 2025

[pebblysand]

The Year I Finished Castles

As we all know, 2024 is now drawing to a close. It's been quite a year, hasn't it? For me, it's obviously also the year I finished castles. After four years of hard work and dedication, and joy, and sleepless nights, almost to the day, I finally wrote out "the end."

Still, the adventure is not quite yet over. I didn't expect this, but it turns out that saying goodbye has been a very gradual process for me. First, because writing-wise, while I had a lot of great plans for what I would do and write after, it's actually taken me a bit more time than I expected to fully move on. That's okay. I've had a bunch of health issues to sort out, as well as a lot of travelling and resting to do, and in between, sadly haven't written much. I'm hoping the new year will bring a new start, and that I'll get back in the flow of things.

Second, because incredibly, people are still reading, and discovering this fic. That's been incredible to witness. I thought it had plateau-ed but it definitely hasn't, and I still have a backlog of over thirty comments to answer, and perhaps I always will. As soon as I answer a batch, another keeps coming. This fills me with joy beyond belief and brings a smile to my face every single day.

Third, because a number of castles-y things are still ongoing. I'm keeping the Discord discussion open until the end of December. There is a podfic being recorded by the wonderful josnail on AO3, and people are now finding and enjoying this fic thanks to them. And, now, as I have teased a couple times on different platforms, I have a surprise for you. I really wanted to get this over to you before Christmas/the end of the year but alas, the proofs took ages to come, so here we are.

There's a book. A physical one. You can have it too!

It's beautiful. It's a labour of love. It's got illustrations and a cover and loads of different things I hope you will enjoy! I made it for me primarily, but I also made it for you.

So, how do I get it?

Please fill out this form.

How much does it cost?

Nothing. This is a gift from me to you, so you don’t need to pay anything. However, if you’d like to help with the costs, you can donate to my Ko-fi. To give you an idea, the printing fee is €25.90 per copy, and shipping fees range between €10 and €30, depending on where I ship it.

(If you are part of the tiktok/tumblr fanfiction police and want to explain to me why I'm awful for illegally printing/selling these and will kill fanfiction because Anne Rice's ghost will sue me, please go touch grass. my fic is not hugely popular, and i'm anticipating maybe thirty people ordering copies, tops. also, i'm a lawyer, well able to calculate my own legal liability/risks, and what you think about the monetisation of fanfic is most likely wrong.)

When is the deadline to order?

31 January 2025. 

How will this work?

I will order the books in batch to my place. I will then sign them/dedicate them, then ship them to you. I am doing this because 1) I think it's cooler if they're signed and 2) I'm very Type A and want to make sure each of them is perfect before you receive them.

Important: while I created the cover, picked out the chapter illustrations on Canva, and created the typeset myself, this is a private company I'm paying to bind and print the books. I am not hand-binding them. I neither have the skills nor the patience for this.

When will I receive my book?

I can't say for certain. I will be making the first order at 8pm GMT, Monday 9 December, and hopefully receive and ship out the first batch of copies by 21 December. Then, I will make a batch order every Friday until the end of January. Once I receive the books, I will sign them and ship them to you. If you live in Europe/UK, it will be quicker than if you live elsewhere. I am hoping/anticipating everyone will have their copy by end of February.

I have other questions...

Please send them to my ask box ❤️.

[othcrside]

@anchoragestarters saylor + ??? : january 1, early morning @ the 7-11

The fallout of New Year's Eve was normally something Saylor dreaded like clockwork every year. Alas, 2024 had proved eventful enough within itself and they narrowly avoided catastrophe for one of the few times in their thirty years of existence. After the clock struck midnight, they indulged in a whole bottle of red wine and a homemade pizza, making a mess of their kitchen as they danced around the kitchen isle and slid back and forth in their fuzzy socks. Pure bliss threaded through their veins as they realized this day, this new year, it was all theirs to claim. They didn't believe in resolutions, because they did more to stifle growth than encourage it in the young lily, but they did make a mental checklist of men to avoid from there on out. There could not be any ruinous repeats of the humiliation they suffered the year prior. That was all they'd asked for out of 2025 — that, and a package of powdered donuts from the 7-11. So, they made the drive and bought two packages and a cherry coke slushie, sauntering to the candy aisle so they could continue perusing until they'd finished their sugary breakfast. It seemed they might have spoken too soon about dodging catastrophe, however, as their lacking attentiveness sent them crashing against another customer and combusting their slushie all down the front of the stranger's clothes. "Oh, fuck!" they cursed loudly, glancing down instinctively at their own, thankfully untouched pajamas. "Goddammit, I just got that. You wanna wring your shirt out back into the cup? ... No, that's gross. Fuck. I can buy you a new one from the bin in here, but half of them look like they're for elderly tourists. I think I may have a spare Louis Vuitton jacket in my trunk?"

[magistralucis]

2025 Translation Tuesday Entry - 03/52 Title: Порушка-Параня (Porushka-Paranya) Artist: Ариэль (Ariel) Album: На острове Буяне (On Buyan Island, 1980)

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

Уж ты Порушка-Параня, ты за что любишь Ивана? (Oh you, Porushka, Paranya - why is that you love Ivan?) Эко я за то люблю Ивана, что головушка кудрява, (Why, I am in love with Ivan, for the curls upon his head.) Я за то люблю Ивана, что головушка кудрява, (I am in love with Ivan for the curls upon his head,) Что головушка кудрява, а бородушка кучерява. (For the curls upon his head, and his curly beard.) Что головушка кудрява, а бородушка кучерява. (For the curls upon his head, and his curly beard.) Кудри вьются до лица, люблю Ваню – молодца. (His curls reach down to his face, I love that young Vanya*.)

Кудри вьются до лица, люблю Ваню – молодца. (His curls reach down to his face, I love that young Vanya*.) Эх Ванюшка – Ванюшка по горенке похаживает. (Eh, see that Vanyushka** pacing about the room,) Уж как Ванюшка по горенке похаживает. (See how Vanyushka** paces about the room,) Он своих сапог и об сапог поколачивает. (He walks, soundly knocking his boot upon his boot.)

"Уж как ты меня, сударушка, высушила, ("Alas, sweet girl, see how you've tormented me:) Уж ты без морозу, без ветру сердце вызнобила." (Without frost, without wind, you made my heart tremble.") "Уж как ты меня, сударушка, высушила, ("Alas, sweet girl, see how you've tormented me:) Уж ты без морозу, без ветру сердце вызнобила." (Without frost, without wind, you made my heart tremble.")

Уж ты Порушка-Параня, ты за что любишь Ивана? (Oh you, Porushka, Paranya - why is that you love Ivan?) Эко я за то люблю Ивана, что головушка кудрява, (Why, I am in love with Ivan, for the curls upon his head.) Я за то люблю Ивана, что головушка кудрява, (I am in love with Ivan for the curls upon his head,) Что головушка кудрява, а бородушка кучерява. (For the curls upon his head, and his curly beard.)

*/** - diminutives of the name 'Ivan'.

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

(There's a lot of Youtube links in this post. I try to upload as many songs as I can to tumblr proper, so that they're accessible to anyone who's logged in and reading those posts on tumblr, but due to copyright reasons those uploads don't always succeed. I only hope you guys can view these links, but I apologize if this is not possible. 😥)

The first folk tune of this project! I happen to love the Ариэль version the best - there's such a quaint charm to it, it's damn catchy, not to mention it was the second version of this song I'd ever heard - but there are countless variations of 'Порушка-Параня' (or sometimes known as 'Я за то люблю') that you can choose from. Here's a selection:

Ирина Цыганкова (Irina Tsygankova) - Я за то люблю

Марина Девятова и Варвара (Marina Devyatova and Varvara) - Порушка-параня

Живица (Zhivitsa) - Порушка-параня (Acoustic)

A remixed cover with Queen's 'We Will Rock You' by Синергия

I'm also somewhat certain that Отава Ё's (Otava Yo) 'Про Ивана Groove' ('About Ivan Groove') is an adaptation of this song, or at least is paying homage to it. But I'm not 100% sure. I link to it nonetheless as reference, and also because this band is awesome, even though I won't have much time to talk about them during this project 😭 Too modern for my time period, I'm afraid!

Finally, here's a 1983 live performance of Ариэль's cover. This was during the band's heyday, and the performance and staging is a good example of what Soviet folk-pop (or really; a lot of sanctioned pop music at the time) used to look like. There will be another Ариэль song featured in this series soon. In that post, and probably a couple before it, I'll go further into the history of this band and the type of ensemble they embodied in the USSR.