#Succulent Strategy

[ruthbancroftgarden]

Stapelia gigantea

Stapelia is the genus that gives its name to the large assemblage of plants known as the stapeliads. Its succulent stems are pliable rather than rigid, and they look much like those found in related genera, except that they have a felted texture rather than being smooth. The flowers are very large (up to 10 inches across, or 25 cm), and the textured ridges on them, as well as the hairs and the foul smell, are features often seen in this group. The reason for the foul smell is to attract the flies that pollinate them. It is a very successful strategy, and this species often spreads spontaneously in gardens. It occurs naturally over a wide area in southern and eastern Africa.

-Brian

[aettuddae]

business matter — chapter 105.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

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[written chapter]

karina was in her room, shifting her attention from the small succulent resting on her desk to the screen of her phone in a back-and-forth, confused, pensive manner.

she was surprised that the plant hadn't died yet and attributed much of it to the time it was in ningning's hands, because she didn't have the faintest idea how to take care of it beyond pouring water on it every now and then.

she knew that serim had given her a particularly easy-to-care-for type, but she still had to make sure what franky's needs were and she couldn't check them because she couldn't remember specifically which type of succulent she had in her possession.

she kept looking at pictures on the internet and comparing them to her plant to see which one looked more similar, but there were two types that could be the same thing and she wouldn't be able to tell because of her zero knowledge of gardening.

stress was growing in her body at not being able to identify the species in that pot, so in an impulse, frustrated, she grabbed it with one of her hands to lift it in the air, as if bringing it closer to the light something would change, as if it would be seen more clearly, the shape would take another silhouette.

she never noticed when her puppy, hiro, who was lying on the ground following her movements with his eyes, interpreted that swift gesture while holding something small as an invitation to play with her. the dog got up, standing on all fours and taking a hunting position, excitedly waiting for her to throw the object to run and catch it, but nothing happened.

jimin gave up, understanding that no matter how high she positioned the pot she would not get any sudden lucidity, that it would still look exactly the same. that's why she dropped her arm, surrendered, as if she had suddenly lost her strength, then put franky back on the table.

but the moment, almost with a thud due to the roughness with which she rested it, the plant touched the wood, it was keyed by hiro who flung it towards the floor, starting to hop around, focused on the now destroyed franky as if waiting for it to move to attack her.

"hiro!" karina exclaimed, in desperation, lunging towards the animal to gently nudge it with her forearm and push it away from the mess he had just made. "why did you do that? that's not a toy!" she couldn't suppress the exasperation she felt at that moment and found herself raising her voice angrily at her pet. "why do you always...!?" she began, still screaming, distraught, lifting the pot and trying to get the soil, and with it the plant, back inside, but she stopped her attempts almost instantly, dropping to the ground and covering her face with her palms, her words drowning in the crying that overtook her and prevented her from continuing to speak. "why do you always push namu away from me?"

sitting on the floor of her room she burst into complete tears, unable to hold it back any longer. hiro watched her with his head cocked to the side not understanding what had just happened. the gift serim had given her was scattered across the room without her having learned any valuable lesson from taking care of it, which was the reason she had received it for. maybe she could still save it, but she had no idea how to do it, and at that moment she didn't have the strength to look for solutions to the situation, she would probably do it in a few minutes, after her breakdown, now she could only lose herself in her bawling, still against her hands, feeling how hiro, who was unable to realize what he had done, put his head on his owner's leg trying to calm her down.

[beloved-of-storms-and-sands]

Where you can see Sutekh:

In the morning sun.

In red berries. Especially when you feel their juice on your teeth.

In dandelions. Whether grown on the ground or asphalt, these plants always find the strength to live and tell everyone to go to hell.

In dark heavy clouds. Such bear His gifts more often.

In the rain.

In the thunder.

In lightning.

In storms.

In the winds. His whisper, gentle and strong.

In the rainbow.

In natural disasters. Sometimes His wrath is too strong.

In earthquakes.

In the snow and blizzards.

In the deserts.

In the oases.

In the eyes of animals. He flashes through them, like their desire to survive.

In donkeys. Inconspicuous animals, they are strong enough to replace dogs to protect herds.

In pigs. Unloved by many, but who can grow large and strong enough to be intimidating.

In rock and electric guitar.

In abandoned things and people.

In things that are broken but found new life.

In the image of the phallus and dicks.

In the word "no" when you defend your boundaries.

In a crowd at a rally, riot or uprising, whether in the people or the spirit itself.

In cheeks reddened from prolonged laughter or alcohol.

In new and old weapons.

In strategy games, especially military ones.

In cacti, succulents, feather grass, wormwood, camel thorn and other plants, that can survive in the desert.

In Ursa Major, because that is where His home is.

In falling stars and meteorites.

In various shiny things.

The collection contains various trinkets and sparkles that are pleasing to the eye.

In things created with your own hands, especially imperfect ones.

In vegetables, especially green ones, and especially in lettuce.

In food and people from other countries.

In the language and culture of foreigners.

In protecting and supporting those who need it.

In accepting your gender and sexuality.

In accepting your weirdness and negatives.

In funny jokes that you can see here and there.

In eclipse.

In red. In red things, food, clothes, symbols.

In fire.

In desire and action to continue to fight.

And in many, many other things. He is in every thing for me. I see His limitless forms in everything. Dua, Perfect God! Dua, Sutekh!

Translation of my post below on russian.

[fluffle-writes]

Yuu: So what kind of eye flavor do you have?

Malleus: That is, so wrong. Yet I’m intrigued by what you asked little friend.

Would the others outside Heartslabyul have eye flavors?

Also where is their mouth how do they eat? Is the flame that is inside the lamp in malleus head like a mouth? Incinerating everything he puts in?

Does the eye of the Heartslabyul residents double as one?

Weirdcore AU Masterlist Here!

Ooh, cool questions! I'm probably gonna get rambly as I answer them - worldbuilding is fun! Now, let's see...

I don't think many of the guys have features that stand out as being edible for Yuu - I feel like the eye flavours work best for Heartslabyul since it's like how flowers have nectar... Perhaps they can catch prey like that... Yuu is not beating the prey allegations (Leona would probably call them 'prey' instead of Herbivore lmao)

Epel has his apples as I talked about here, and the eye goop was elaborated on in this post, but until something stands out to me, I can't really pin anything down.

I suppose, if I give Azul tentacles, I could say that he can regrow them if they're cut off! These tentacles, when cooked, have a somewhat rich, meaty flavour with an underlying taste of ink. Depending on his emotional state when the tentacles are removed, they can either taste juicy and succulent (good emotional state) or somewhat acrid with the inky flavour overwhelming the taste of the dish (bad emotional state)

Now, as for how these guys eat, I feel like it's not so much 'eating' as it is 'absorbing energy' - and there's many different methods that they can use to sap their food (or their prey) of life-energy. I'll elaborate on a few here!

Quick CW Since this got pretty dark!

The following text contains: Mentions of hunting, Mentions of death (specified as slow + painful), potential vaguely implied cannibalism - please ask me to tag anything else that you believe I may have missed!

Oral Consumption

Utilised by anyone with a mouth! So, Ruggie (who has tail mouths like Mawile, and a head that opens up like a Demogorgon), Lilia, Rook, and Grim would all be able to use this method! They just sorta chow down - those with stronger jaws may even snack on things typically perceived as inedible to absorb some latent energy to keep themselves running if they're hungry enough.

Root Growth

This is often used by beings like the Heartslabyul guys and perhaps even Epel - who all have plant-like features. They can hold their food in their hands and grow roots into the food to sap it of nutrients! There is a particularly gruesome hunting strategy that some may use, where they grow these roots into the body of their prey without killing it - leading to a slow and painful death for the poor thing.

Burning

Malleus and Lilia can use this method! As you guessed, Malleus can burn through food to release its energy to be consumed! The flames they have are maintained by their life energy - which is why Malleus has so many - and cannot be put out by normal means. (This means that they're safe in water and strong winds!)

Technology

This method isn't often used - but Idia has sensory problems with his teeth and opts to use his more technological features to make eating more palatable for himself. He uses various machines to transform food into code and energy and loads it into his body using ports on his head - he may even consume the memories of prey that he's bought or captured for a more filling meal, using a headset he designed himself.

[kindahornydude]

Feasting for the Crown

Once upon a time, in a grand and opulent kingdom, there reigned a charming and benevolent king named Ferdinand. King Ferdinand was beloved by his people, not only for his wise rule but also for his warm-hearted nature. The king was getting older, and he knew it was time to consider his successor. He had three handsome sons, each of whom possessed unique qualities. As he contemplated who should inherit the throne, King Ferdinand devised a unique and rather unorthodox plan to determine his successor.

One sunny morning, King Ferdinand summoned his three sons to his majestic dining hall. The walls were adorned with golden tapestries, and a lavish feast had been prepared by the finest chefs in the kingdom. The aroma of roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and succulent fruits filled the air.

"My sons," the king began, "the time has come for one of you to prove your worthiness to inherit the throne. To do so, I have devised a challenge. The one who can eat the most food at this banquet shall be crowned the new king."

The three princes exchanged intrigued glances, and a hint of competition gleamed in their eyes.

The eldest prince, Richard, was strong and determined. He believed that a king must be robust and able to endure hardships, and he approached the challenge with a steely resolve. The middle son, Charles, was known for his charm and diplomacy, and he was determined to win his father's favor. The youngest, Edward, was known for his intelligence and wit. He saw the challenge as a test of strategy and cleverness.

The king watched as his sons took their places at the long banquet table, dressed in their finest clothes. Servants began to serve an endless array of dishes, from succulent roasted game birds to towering pyramids of pastries.

The brothers wasted no time, piling their plates high with food. They ate with gusto, savoring each mouthful, and the competition grew fierce. Their once-fine clothes grew tighter as their bellies expanded, and they laughed and teased one another between bites.

Hours passed, and the king marveled at his sons' determination. Richard, the eldest, began to outeat his brothers. His belly swelled, straining the buttons of his tunic, but he pushed on. Charles and Edward struggled to keep up, their faces flushed, and their clothes becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

As the banquet continued, the room echoed with the sounds of belches and groans. The brothers' stomachs were stretched to their limits, and still, they refused to give in. They were determined to prove themselves as the most deserving heir to the throne.

Finally, it was Charles who relented. He patted his bloated belly and said, "I'm afraid I can eat no more, dear father. My brothers have bested me."

Edward, not wanting to be outdone, continued to eat, but eventually, he too surrendered to his stuffed stomach. His face turned a shade of green, and he laid down his utensils with a sigh.

It was now just Richard and the king left at the table. King Ferdinand looked at his eldest son with pride and affection. "You have shown great determination and resilience, my son," he said. "But there is one more test you must pass."

With that, the king signaled to the servants, who brought forth a sumptuous dessert, a delicacy fit for a king. Richard, though he could barely move, was determined to prove his worth. He accepted the dessert and ate every last bite.

His belly now round and protruding, Richard had eaten more than any of them. King Ferdinand, with a satisfied smile, nodded to his son and declared, "You, my son, have proven yourself to be the most deserving of the throne. You have the strength and determination to rule our kingdom."

Richard was crowned the new king, and he ruled the kingdom with wisdom and fairness, just as his father had. The banquet, with its unusual and memorable challenge, became a cherished tradition in the kingdom's history, a testament to the unorthodox but effective ways of King Ferdinand.

[ceilingfan5]

it's gotta be arcade carpet, I will start a fight and I do not care if I win that fight, even though I will win that fight. I want to draw blood, and Taako

"I hate him," Taako says, with feeling. "I hate him so bad. I want him to be naught but purple viscera traumatizing onlookers. You get me? Like, am I being clear enough?" He dips his pretzel passionately into the communal cheese and gets that succulent plastic nacho sauce all over the tray and his hand. He scowls and sucks his fingers loose and Kravitz thinks, not for the first time, him, huh? This is where I've laid my affections?

"For sure," Kravitz says calmly instead. He slides Taako a napkin.

"His strategies are garbage from a toilet, he has no flair, he cheats, I fucking know he does, I don't know how but I Know he does-" Taako huffs and chews his pretzel. Kravitz props his head up on his hand, looking at the jewelry store behind them, and the poster in the jewelry store with the deliriously happy gay couple, and he like, knows, okay, he knows all the diamond things and the capitalism things and the marriage things. And targeted advertising and rainbow bank icons. But listen. What if, is the thing.

"You could find another place to play?" Kravitz suggests, already knowing the answer. But Taako is in a ranting mood, and wants to get the magma out of his system. Kravitz is happy to divert the flow. It's certainly more interesting than going back to work in fourteen minutes.

"Obviously I'm not going to run, Krav," Taako scoffs, mouth still full. Nasty <3. Kravitz has it bad. It might be infectious, how bad he has it. Limbs falling off. In twenty years they'll be like how did the zombie apocalypse start? And no one will answer, because everyone will be gone of zombieism. The end. "I'd rather kill him."

"Noo," Kravitz says, laughing. "Really?"

"Yeah, really!" Taako almost manages a straight face. Usually he's so good at locking it down. Perfect stupid asshole. "I'd kill him good. I'd uh, I'd. Uh. If he beats me at Dance Party Castle again, I'm gonna start a fight."

"A fight? With what, your beefy fists?" Kravitz laughs. He knows Taako could hold his own in a scrap. But also.

"I will start a fight!" Taako declares, maybe a bit too loudly, but the empty food court just echoes dimly about it. "I will start a fight, and I don't care if I win, but I will win. I will win that fight. I wanna draw blood."

"Blood on the dance floor?"

"Boooo!" Taako breaks up into giggles. "Blood on the arcade carpet!"

"Oh no! Think of the blacklights!"

"Think of the Jenkins meat getting fed into the- what's the- Polybius!"

"You said Jenkins meat out loud with your mouth and now you have to go to the Phantom Zone forever." Kravitz shakes his head so sadly. What a loss. Taako cracks up.

"Noooo, I wasn't thinking!"

"That's it, you never think." Kravitz folds his arms, and gets cheese sauce on his suit jacket. "Wait, aw, fuck…"

"Are you sure you don't want to watch me defeat Dance Party Castle one mo gain?" Taako teases. He slides the nakins back over. What a loss!!!

"Only if there's an arcade massacre."

"Beb, I'd commit all kinds of crimes for you."

"Murder?" Kravitz pretends his cheeks aren't heating up, even after all this time. The classic Ken doll of a dude proposing to the slightly more racially ambiguous Ken doll in the glossy jewelry store ad almost winks at him.

"Easy."

"What about tax evasion?"

"Peasy, even."

"We got 'im, boys! Lock him up!"

And as Taako pretends to get dogpiled by a number of invisible undercover tax assassins, he has at least gotten less righteously incandescent about the fucker ruining his favorite thing. So Kravitz wins.

Just not at Dance Party Castle.

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Sixty-Four

As Maera lay in bed that night, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. She couldn't shake the weight of the day's events, particularly the sudden responsibility of raising Maelor and Jaehaera as her wards. Despite her attempts to rationalize the situation, she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the enormity of the task ahead. The weight of such a responsibility, not only to raise a princess but also the new heir to the throne, Maelor, was staggering.

Earlier, when she had tried to discuss the matter with Aegon, she was met with dismissiveness and indifference. His reaction only added to her frustration and uncertainty. It seemed that her concerns fell on deaf ears, as Aegon left the room with a jug of wine in hand, leaving Maera to grapple with her thoughts. Thankfully, Aemond could read her like a book and asked her if she wished to retire whilst the fellow council members continued to discuss war strategies. Maera all but jumped out of her seat, thanking the Lords for allowing her to be present before scuttling out of the room.

Tossing and turning in the black sheets of her bed, Maera’s apprehension grew. She couldn’t shake the feeling of unease at the thought of the children remaining in the capital, especially with the threat of the Blacks closing in and the war raging on. Moreover, Maera had barely begun to come to terms with her own impending motherhood when she was suddenly thrust into the role of caretaker for two more young souls.

She drifted in and out of sleep, her senses attuned to the subtle sounds of the chamber. The soft creak of the doors opening, the rhythmic thud of footsteps, and the rustle of fabric and metal as Aemond undressed for the night. Even as she felt the dip in the mattress beside her, Maera remained still, her back turned toward her husband. She sensed his presence as he settled onto the bed, the warmth of his body radiating through the blankets. When his bare skin touched hers, she couldn't help but shiver at the intimacy of the contact.

Aemond's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and Maera felt the tension in her body slowly melt away. His slender, toned form fit perfectly against hers, offering a sense of comfort and security in the darkness. Despite the weight of their shared burdens and the uncertainties that lay ahead, in that moment, Maera found solace in the embrace of her husband.

The next morning, Maera and Aemond broke their fast together. The table was adorned with a spread fit for royalty: golden-brown loaves of freshly baked bread, platters of succulent fruits, bowls of steaming porridge drizzled with honey, and plates piled high with eggs cooked to perfection.

As they sat across from each other, Aemond scribed on a piece of parchment between bites of his eggs. The pin of the Hand of the King adorned his chest, a symbol of his newfound position in the Small Council. His expression was focused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he jotted down notes, his movements fluid and precise. Maera observed him from across the table, the morning light casting a soft glow on his features. She couldn't help but admire his dedication and sense of duty.

She sipped her ginger root and wormwood boiled tea with her meal, following the Maester's instructions. Surprisingly, it did indeed help stimulate her appetite, and she found herself happily nibbling away at a slice of toast with honey, much to Aemond’s delight, a small smile playing on his lips as he observed her progress.

Once Maera had finished her meal, she turned her attention to the other dark liquid Maester Orwyle had prescribed. Carefully pouring it onto a teaspoon, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose at the pungent smell that wafted up from the spoon. Bracing herself, she brought the teaspoon to her lips and reluctantly swallowed the foul-tasting concoction. A look of disgust crossed her face, and she emitted a groan of distaste as she quickly reached for a cup of water to wash away the unpleasant flavor. Aemond couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at her reaction, his amusement evident in the twinkle of his violet eye.

“I’m sure the unpleasant taste is worth it,” the One-Eyed Prince remarked, glancing up from his work to meet her gaze, before quickly returning to his work.

“You are mot the one that has to drink it,” Maera quipped, refilling her cup with water before downing it again as the aftertaste of the medicine lingered, yet the foul taste of the medication was not the only unpleasant thing lingering. “I cannot help but worry about Jaehaera and Maelor being named as my wards,” Maera admitted, her brow furrowed with anxiety.

Aemond hummed in response as he continued to write on the parchment. “With your plethora of siblings, you should be well-prepared for this,” he teased, attempting to lighten the mood.

Maera rolled her eyes playfully, shaking her head. “Yes, but I never expected to be raising royal children,” she replied, taking a sip of her tea. Her gaze turned thoughtful as she added, “And now little Maelor is the heir. I will be responsible for raising a future King, Aemond.”

Aemond looked up at her, expression softened as he reached across the table to gently squeeze her hand, his touch comforting as he reassured her. “They are not just your wards, Maera. They are ours,” he stated firmly. “I will be involved in their upbringing just as much as you.” He paused, his gaze lingering on her. "And it will be nice for our child to be close with their cousins when it enters the world."

A gentle smile graced Maera's lips as she glanced down at her stomach, feeling a surge of warmth at the thought. Looking back up at Aemond, she couldn't help but feel a sense of reassurance wash over her. "With you to guide him, Maelor will be a great King," she affirmed, her words earning a genuine smile from Aemond, a silent understanding passing between them.

In that moment of connection, Maera felt a surge of affection for her husband, her heart swelling with love as she gazed at him. She marveled at his sharp features, the way his single violet eye seemed to pierce through her soul, and the slight smirk that played at the corners of his lips. With Aemond by her side, she felt a sense of security and reassurance that everything would be alright, and her love for him only deepened in that moment.

As Aemond finished writing and cleared his throat, Maera’s attention snapped back to the present, her curiosity piqued by his demeanor. With a raised eyebrow, she acknowledged him, nibbling on her toast as she waited for him to speak.

Aemond met her gaze, his violet eye locking with her green ones as he began to speak. “Some information came to light during the council’s discussions last night,” he revealed, his tone serious.

Maera leaned forward, her interest fully captured now. “Go on,” she urged, eager to understand the significance of Aemond’s revelation.

“The other council members informed me of the current strategy in the Reach,” Aemond continued, his expression grave. “We are losing more territories there,” he added, his voice tinged with concern. Maera’s brows furrowed in worry as Aemond’s gaze held hers. “The most recent seats lost to the Blacks were Three Towers and Horn Hill,” he revealed, the weight of the words hanging heavily in the air. Horn Hill. House Tarly.

“Wynni.” Maera's eyes widened in concern. That is why her sister had not written. House Tarly had originally sworn to Aegon, hence why the Master of Laws had agreed to a marriage alliance with the minor House for his younger daughter. But now they had turned cloak, meaning the very forces Maera had to support could be the ones responsible for harm to House Tarly, or worse…

Sensing her distress, Aemond moved closer to her, his voice calm and reassuring as he addressed her worries. "Lord Larys is to send spies to Horn Hill to ensure Wynni's safety," he assured her, his tone firm. Maera sighed heavily, her frustration evident as she acknowledged the necessity of relying on Lord Larys, despite her reservations about his character. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Maera reluctantly accepted the reality of the situation, even if it meant dealing with the enigmatic Lord Larys.

Aemond rose from his seat and approached Maera, offering practical wisdom. "Right now, there's nothing we can do," he stated matter-of-factly. Maera nodded, appreciating the rational approach.

The Prince then made a suggestion of distraction. “I am training with the Lord Commander this morning. You are welcome to join as a spectator,” he said with a soft smile. “The fresh air will do you good.”

Maera rose from her seat, a playful glint in her eyes as she quipped, “I never did well as a spectator.” She was insistent on participating in the sparring herself.

A flicker of concern crossed Aemond’s face as he questioned her decision, “Are you sure that’s wise given your…condition?”

Unable to suppress a snicker, Maera reached for a tiny bell and rang it, signaling for the servants to enter. Turning her attention back to Aemond, she reassured him with a mischievous grin, “Our child is a dragon, issa darys. We will be just fine.”

In the courtyard, Maera and Aemond stood face to face, the morning sunlight casting a golden hue over the training grounds. Maera wore her black and gold training leathers, the fabric hugging her form with every movement. Aemond, clad in his customary black leather attire, regarded her with a mixture of admiration and concern. Ser Criston supervised their sparring session, his watchful gaze scanning their every move. He was surprised to see the Princess when she entered the courtyard with her husband and initially expressed his reservations about sparring while pregnant. Maera simply waved off his concerns with a confident smile, reassuring him that she felt perfectly capable.

The couple’s swords clashed with a resounding clang, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the courtyard. Maera's strikes were swift and calculated, her movements fluid and precise. She lunged and parried with skill, her focus unwavering as she sought to match Aemond's prowess. The Prince, ever the vigilant protector, adopted a defensive stance, his one-eyed gaze fixed on Maera's every move. He moved with grace and agility, his reflexes honed from years of training. Despite his caution, there was a hint of pride in his eyes as he sparred with his wife, admiring her tenacity and skill.

Yet Maera could not deny that fatigue was hitting much quicker than it usually would. She managed to swiftly manoeuver Aemond to the edge of the courtyard, her blade poised at his throat. With a triumphant grin, she forced him to yield, a flush of exertion coloring her cheeks.

However, her triumph was short-lived as exhaustion quickly washed over her, leaving her feeling drained and slightly dizzy. As Maera sat on the ground, her muscles trembled and she could feel the sweat dampening her brow despite the cool breeze that swept through the courtyard. With each breath, she tried to steady herself, grateful for the respite from their intense sparring session.

Ser Criston approached the pair with a clap of approval, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the ground. "Well fought, Princess," he remarked, his voice gruff yet respectful.

Looking up, she saw Aemond’s concerned expression as he crouched down beside her, his silver hair gleaming in the sunlight. His hand reached out instinctively and rested gently on her shoulder as he firmly spoke with gentle concern. “You shouldn’t overexert yourself,” he urged, his violet eyes filled with genuine care.

Despite her weariness, Maera managed a weak laugh, her sarcasm tinged with exhaustion. “I will be sure to tell our enemies to go easy on me when they come knocking,” she quipped, her determination shining through even in her fatigue.

As Aemond shook his head at Maera’s stubbornness, Ser Criston extended his hand to help Maera up off the ground, his expression stoic yet kind.

"The Princess might prefer target practice with her daggers or a bow and arrow," he suggested, offering an alternative to the strenuous sparring.

Maera considered the suggestion for a moment before glancing at Aemond, noting the furrowed concern in his gaze, a silent plea for her not to accept for the sake of her health and the child that grew within her. With a reluctant sigh, she conceded, "Perhaps I have had my fill for today."

She thanked Ser Criston and Aemond for allowing her to train with them, then turned to her husband, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. The fleeting moment of connection between them lingered in Maera’s mind as she placed her sword back onto her belt, knowing that their responsibilities would inevitably pull them apart for the remainder of the day.

“I will see you this evening, husband,” she said, her voice gentle yet determined, before turning to make her way back to the castle.

As Maera made her way through the corridors, the flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows along the stone walls, lending an air of mystery to her surroundings. Servants and nobles bowed or curtsied respectfully as she passed, their murmured greetings echoing softly in the dimly lit halls. Despite the fatigue that still lingered in her limbs, Maera couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the exertion of her recent sparring session.

With each step, Maera found herself reflecting on the weighty responsibility that came with her burgeoning pregnancy. Though still in its early stages, a being that was a blend of Maera and her husband, probably now the size of a blackberry, was already having an adverse effect on her body. In the last few days, she found herself growing more attuned to the subtle shifts within herself, embracing the maternal instincts that had began to slowly stir.

Lost in contemplation, Maera found herself smiling softly at the thought of her unborn child. She couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts might occupy their tiny mind as they nestled within her womb. Perhaps they sensed the strength and resilience that coursed through its mother’s veins. Or maybe they wondered why their host was throwing herself around just to enjoy the satisfaction of beating her husband with a sword.

Turning the corner, a sudden flood of light from open doors caught Maera’s attention, bathing the hallway in an unexpected brightness. Instantly recognizing the familiar layout, she realized she was standing outside Queen Helaena’s chambers. Intrigued, Maera approached the open door with cautious curiosity, peering inside to see the queen seated in her chair, her figure illuminated by the soft glow filtering through the windows.

Beside her, a serving girl hovered attentively, holding a plate of food in her hands. With gentle insistence, she encouraged the queen to eat, yet Helaena seemed wholly absorbed in something else. Instead of focusing on the offered meal, Helaena's attention was fixated on her hand, where a small creature crawled. The queen's expression was one of intense concentration, her features drawn into a thoughtful expression as she studied the creature with unwavering focus.

Helaena’s gaze shifted from the insect in her hand to the doorway, her eyes brightened with recognition and warmth. A genuine smile graced her lips, illuminating her face with a radiance that seemed to dispel the shadows of her inner turmoil. With a beckoning gesture, she invited Maera to join her, and without hesitation, Maera hastened into the room, the servant moving aside so the women could sit together.

Settling into the chair beside her old friend, Maera felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. For a moment, they sat together in comfortable silence, reminiscent of the carefree days of their childhood before tragedy had befallen House Targaryen. In that moment, surrounded by the jars of plants and insects that adorned the table, Maera felt a glimmer of hope flicker within her, as well as a longing for the closeness she and Helaena once shared. She grappled with the weight of unspoken words and unasked questions, each one vying for attention in the recesses of her mind. Should she breach the delicate topics that lingered between them, or should she maintain the tranquility of their shared silence?

The burden of the King's request weighed heavily on Maera’s heart, the weight of responsibility pressing down upon her like a stone. She wrestled with the notion of taking on the role of guardian to Helaena's children, the weight of such a duty tugging at the edges of her consciousness. Maera yearned to confide in Helaena, to share the news of her own impending motherhood and seek guidance in the uncertainties that lay ahead. Yet, she hesitated, unsure if it was her place to intrude upon the delicate balance of Helaena's world.

But as the moments passed in silence, Maera hesitated to break the fragile peace that enveloped them. She feared that any words spoken aloud would shatter the delicate equilibrium they had found, scattering the pieces of their connection like shards of glass upon the floor. And so, she remained silent, content to bask in the presence of her friend and the shared stillness of the moment. In the quiet of the chamber, surrounded by the gentle hum of life, Maera found solace in the simple act of being.

It was Helaena who broke the silence first. "Did you know Bess beetles are some of the most dedicated reproductive partners?" Helaena asked, her voice filled with a hint of excitement. Maera leaned in for a closer look, admiring the beetle’s glossy black carapace as it scuttled delicately across Helaena’s skin.

Maera grinned in response. “Is that so, Your Grace?”

Helaena’s eyes sparkled with joy as she shared her knowledge. “Yes. They typically form long-term pair bonds, with a male and female staying together to care for their offspring and maintain their nest,” she explained, her voice soft yet animated. Maera couldn’t help but smile at Helaena’s enthusiasm, a glimpse of the friend she remembered shining through the grief that had consumed her in recent times. “It is quite unusual amongst insects,” Helaena added, her gaze focused on the beetle in her hand.

Maera nodded in agreement as the queen gently placed the insect back in its leaf filled jar. She could not help but admire the tenderness with which her friend handled the tiny creature. With a soft smile, Helaena reached for another jar, her fingers deftly undoing the lid to reveal its contents. From within, she retrieved a vibrant green mantis, its slender form poised gracefully on her outstretched hand. Maera’s eyes widened in awe as she beheld the intricate beauty of the creature, its delicate limbs and angular visage a testament to the wonders of the natural world.

“He is interesting looking,” Maera remarked, her gaze fixed on the vibrant green insect.

“She,” Helaena corrected, her tone soft yet authoritative. “The females are usually bigger than the males, and not very good reproductive partners.” Maera raised an eyebrow in curiosity, prompting Helaena to continue. “She will have males shower her with gifts; intricate dances, offerings of food, and prime breeding ground to lay her eggs,” Helaena explained, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “If she accepts the male, she will take everything he brings her and then allow him to mate, on her terms of course.”

Maera nodded thoughtfully, considering the dynamics of the mantis’s courtship rituals. “That does not seem so bad,” she remarked, her voice tinged with skepticism.

Helaena’s gaze met Maera’s with intensity, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “It gets worse,” she continued, her tone taking on a darker edge. “The male mantis seems to no longer see himself as vulnerable when he has been permitted to mate her, but he could not be more wrong. She will eat his head during the mating to provide sustenance for herself, yet his reproductive instincts are so strong he will not care.”

Maera’s eyes widened in surprise at the macabre nature of the mantis’s behavior. “That seems hard on the poor male,” she commented, feeling a pang of sympathy for the unsuspecting creature.

Helaena giggled softly, finding amusement in Maera’s reaction. “Not necessarily,” she countered. “He views the female as a formidable being with extraordinary abilities.” Maera furrowed her brow, intrigued by Helaena’s perspective. “It is not until the last second that he realizes what has happened,” Helaena continued, her tone tinged with a mixture of fascination and amusement.

“That she has consumed him entirely because she can, and that while the consequences were obvious, his breeding instincts told him not to listen.” With delicate care, Helaena gently guided the mantis back into its jar, her movements deliberate and precise as she secured the lid with a soft click. Not wanting their precious time together to end just yet, Maera seized the opportunity to delve deeper into their conversation.

"Do you think if he knew that it would lead to his demise he would still choose to mate her?" Maera inquired, her curiosity piqued by the complexities of the mantis's behavior.

Helaena paused, her expression thoughtful as she considered the question. "I think some males are dumber than others and would still choose to mate," she finally replied with a faint smile.

Maera couldn't help but roll her eyes in amusement. "Much like human males then," she quipped, finding humor in the comparison.

Their shared laughter filled the room, momentarily lifting the weight of the world from their shoulders. Maera cherished these moments of lightheartedness with her friend, wishing they could last forever. As their laughter subsided, Helaena's expression softened, her thoughts drifting to her beloved son.

"You know who would like her?" she mused, her voice tinged with wistfulness.

"Who?" Maera inquired, her curiosity piqued by Helaena's sudden change in topic.

"Jaehaerys," Helaena replied with a nostalgic smile. "He adored the dead leaf mantises that had been brought to me last time."

The mention of the deceased prince sent a chill down Maera's spine, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken sorrow. "Can you bring him to me? I feel like I haven't seen him in so long," Helaena requested, her voice tinged with longing.

Maera's smile faltered, her gaze filled with sympathy as she reached out to comfort her friend. However, Helaena recoiled at her touch, her confusion evident in the air between them.

"Helaena," Maera began softly, her voice tinged with sadness. But before she could continue, Helaena's gaze locked onto hers, her eyes searching for answers that Maera feared she couldn't provide.

"No... wait, that's not right," Helaena muttered anxiously, her movements growing erratic as she began to pace the room, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

Maera attempted to divert Helaena's attention, desperately trying to prevent the situation from escalating. "Why don't you show me your Perisomena caterpillars? They must be-"

But Helaena abruptly interrupted, whipping around to face Maera with furrowed brows, her eyes searching for answers. "Where is my son?" she demanded bluntly, her tone tinged with desperation.

Maera's heart sank at the question, her eyes welling with tears as she struggled to find the right words. "I'm sorry, Helaena... I'm so, so sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

The Queen's distress escalated, tears streaming down her cheeks as she began to hit herself on the head in frustration. "I'm stupid, so stupid... the butcher took him, took his head," she sobbed, her words fragmented by sobs of anguish.

Maera's heart ached at the sight of her friend's agony, and she immediately sprang into action, directing a servant to fetch the Maester. With a nod of understanding, the maid hurried from the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall. Helaena continued to hit herself, the skin beneath her hair no doubt starting to become bruised from the force.

Maera approached her cautiously, her heart heavy with concern. Gently, she grabbed Helaena by the wrists, pulling her hands away from her head. "Stop it, Helaena," she urged firmly, her voice tinged with urgency.

Helaena's breathing quickened, her gaze desperate as she looked at Maera. With a sense of foreboding, she muttered ominously, "The hatchling will be scorched by dragon fire in the castle of the old Kings Curse."

Maera's heart skipped a beat at the cryptic words, her mind racing with concern for her friend's well-being. Her green eyes widened in shock as the weight of Helaena’s warning settled over her like a suffocating blanket. Maera's desperation was palpable as she pleaded with Helaena for answers, her voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

"What does that mean, Helaena?" she implored, her eyes searching her friend's face for any sign of clarity.

Helaena's response sent shivers down Maera's spine, her words carrying an eerie resonance that filled the air with a sense of foreboding. "A babe," she replied cryptically, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze distant as if she was lost in the depths of her own mind.

Maera's heart raced with apprehension as she watched Helaena's gaze drift down to her stomach. The flickering flames of the candles cast dancing shadows across Helaena's features, lending her an otherworldly appearance. "Whose baby? My baby?" Maera's voice trembled with urgency, her fingers tightening around Helaena's wrists in a desperate attempt to keep her grounded. "Helaena, is my baby in danger?!" she demanded. But as Helaena tried to pull away, Maera held fast with all her strength, her emotions roiling within her like a tempestuous sea. She was unsure what had overcome her, but hearing that there may be a threat to her child made her feel out of control.

Before Helaena could respond, Maera felt herself being pulled away from the Queen, who was also being restrained by the serving girl from before and a guard. Maera looked behind her to see her protector Ser Arryk and her loyal maid, Thena, with their arms around her in restraint.

Across the room, Maester Orwyle stood with a bag of concoctions, his expression grave as he addressed Maera with a sense of urgency. The flickering candlelight cast deep shadows across his weathered face, accentuating the lines of worry etched into his features. "I suggest you leave, Princess. Seeing the Queen in such a hysterical state will do you no good," he advised, his tone firm yet tinged with concern.

Reluctantly, Maera allowed herself to be escorted out of the chambers, her heart heavy with worry for her friend and her unborn child. As she glanced back over her shoulder, she saw Helaena fall to her knees, her screams echoing through the halls, a haunting reminder of the darkness that had consumed her.

Tags: @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @0eessirk8 @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[sgiandubh]

Hello! I am Caitriona anon. My ask was prompted by a comment from succulently speaking who commented in your post a few days ago “what has Sam done wrong and what exactly do you want him to do”? You responded he needed to step up his game. That’s why I asked about Caitriona because I thought it funny how much you post about Sam and what he should or shouldn’t be doing and I thought, I wonder why Caitriona doesn’t get that same treatment? I've been following you since you got here. I understand your position. My only quibble is I don’t think of them as one entity and I think Cait especially has pushed against this for years. She’s offended at the notion. As I said, of course it's your blog and you can post whatever you'd like and certainly don't owe me an explanation, but I thank you for the one you gave anyway. I’ll continue to read you because I enjoy you. I hope I didn’t offend or that I was impertinent.

Dear (returning) Caitriona Anon,

For an Anti, you sound pretty literate and polite. So, I am going to answer you and try to keep this dialogue line open. Try me: keeping dialogues open is my bread and butter, IRL. Has been so for twenty years.

Thank you for understanding my position, but I do not really need to be 'understood', like a minor Romantic poet by his posterity. I try very hard to rationalize yours and I believe it is your constitutional right to believe what you want about this saga. Conversely, it is my prerogative to believe exactly what I want about it, based on what I do consider to be relevant facts. Not social media, press circus or PR induced tacky blogger manipulation.

Having said that, it is also my constitutional right to express my opinions and try to encourage others to do so, in a no-drama, friendly environment. It would also seem that determined Mordor to marginally step up their game, for I seem to be the nightmare these people collectively manifested every single time they howled 'the shippers are stupid', on full moon nights.

Shippers are everything but stupid, pumpkin. They are witty, funny and completely immunized to bullshit. For rhetoric bullshit with honors is your question: why Caitriona doesn’t get that same treatment?

You know very well why and I am going to tell you a Romanian proverb: cine nu muncește, nu greșește. Loosely translated: no work, no mistakes. How do you want me to say anything about a statue, who doesn't show us anything else about her life anymore, spare her outfits, her make-up and some rare events, with or sans the PA? Oh, and marGINally, her erratic business projects, for ever ongoing, hinted and never ever, God forbid, materialized? SAG-AFTRA strike? News of it never seemed to have made it to Caitrionaland. Israel-Palestine conflict? Prudent silence, but hello Tilda, darling, how are you. Ukraine? Last I heard/seen, a short appeal for helping the refugees and then crickets. Women's rights? Again, a short snippet on Persia, then mum. Just what the fuck is this supposed to be? Surely not a coherent PR strategy for a gifted, intelligent and fun (yes, fun!!) 44 year old actress who wants to keep her lucky strike going on! Let me tell you: she doesn't come across as dignified. She comes across as despising, condescending and entitled. Too cool for school, too sexy for your car, peons.

She is not Queen Victoria, for crying out loud, and we are definitely not amused!

You then proceed to say 'she pushed against it for years'? Please, do not insult my intelligence! She pushed against shippers who deface the nice Narrative, when she needed sympathy and massive support for her Belfast promo, unwittingly making a major PR blunder and for ever fracturing this fandom in at least two savagely antagonistic camps. Then, a cold, totally DGAF attitude, including towards her stans: tough to be her stan, when your Goddess is more silent than a Poor Clare (pun totally intended) nun! And she denied being an item with S (which is a complete, pious lie), because that is the Narrative, ever since IFH.

So, it's safe to say: yes, public Caitriona Balfe is dismissive of the notion, but since when is social media indicative of an undeniable or even intimate truth, especially in that particular world of hers? Oh, and by the way: sorry to be pedantic, but - it's offended by the notion, not 'at the notion'. Simple curiosity: you translate your thoughts from which language, exactly? My bet would be either German: bei, or Russian: обидеться на - yes: literally 'offended at'.

My complete Romanian proverb includes a conclusion. In full, it would be: cine nu muncește, nu greșește, dar nici nu reușește. No work, no mistake, no success.

How I wish to be proven wrong, Anon, on that one: you can't even imagine! Thank you for the time you took to answer me. I am afraid we agree to disagree. Change my mind? Not in a million years.

[that-left-turn]

How do you think the show should be promoted for maximum efficiency?

That depends on what’s in the show, doesn’t it? 🙃 In order to retain the viewership the show attracts, the promotion shouldn’t be misleading. For instance, the anti-Carol crowd shouldn’t be fooled by nunbaiting into watching the show in hopes that Daryl will live happily ever after with Isabelle when that doesn’t happen.

TPTB should want to promote elements of the show that excite the core audience, so that it gets them talking. Nothing beats word of mouth promotion and enthusiastic viewers provide a sustainable way to grow the audience organically. If the show is honestly leaning into a buddy narrative, they shouldn’t have McReedus photoshoots with a strong shippy tone. It gets Carylers buzzing and the letdown will be huge if it comes to nothing.

Winning back a highly fragmented audience is extremely hard and this show was the lowest performing spinoff in S1, so they need to strike the right note. At the moment it’s mostly buzz words: “the finale is the best episode ever,” “there’s a lot of tenderness,” etc. None of that means anything. It could be Laurent feeding pigeons that’s the tenderness, or maybe the French squirrels are especially succulent.

Right now, I don’t know what audience the show is geared towards, which is a red flag. They’re emphasizing “badass Carol” which usually plays well with the GA and male viewers who like the action adventure elements. The EPs push the friendship angle which is meant to attract viewers who don’t like Carol or Caryl while the actors sell their chemistry, making the shippers happy. The emotional drive as described in the season synopsis is very lopsided and that (coupled with what I’ve seen of Zabel’s writing) gives me doubts that the season will fulfill anyone’s wishes for it.

It looks like two separate campaigns rather than a cohesive marketing strategy and that makes me apprehensive about what the bts discourse might be. AMC needs to pick a lane and make everyone involved stay in it to maximize their impact.

[iu-jjang]

[FANCAFE] 230302 IU replies uaenas on fancafe

IU: Ah and if anyone bullies you, tell me! ⚔️😡⚔️

IU: Ah.. ok ok not everyone is able to reply yet..

I totally understand~~! 0_<

So I’m about to meet my dayookies 😌

(t/n: most uaenas just got demoted back to full members as 5th gen had ended. Also, ‘dayookie’ or succulent plant / cactus won the YouTube poll for 6th gen.)

🌵: Unnie, give a word of encouragement for university students starting classes too..

Give me strength too, for I’ve been a uaena since the time back when you endorsed for MyChewㅜㅜ Then I’ll buy a box of MyChew and go to school!!

IU: So there are people starting classes too…!!

🌵: Unnie, don’t forget about the university students tooㅠㅠ

IU: Fighting for your first day of classes!!! 🥹🥹 You’ve been a baby uaena until now!!

🌵: Unnie, is there a more matured snack for university students to offer others, rather than MyChew sweet?

IU: jjondeugi..? (Traditional Korean chewy snack)

🌵: Jieun-nim, my son is starting childcare tomorrow!! As a parent, I’m feeling a little nervous, so thanks for your message heh I’ll hang in there ❤️

IU: Goshㅜㅜㅜ That’s cute. Baby fighting!! Mummy uaena fighting as well!!

🌵: Unnie-ya, is it decided that dayookie will be the nickname for 6th gen uaenas then?? (Does that mean there’s no hope for yukbuley at all then..?)ㅠㅠkekekeke

IU: Yukal (t/n: Meaning ‘six legged’. Watch IU TV for inside joke reference).. I mean, yukbuley is packing its bags🥹

🌵: Unnie, I’m starting classes… I don’t feel like going to school.. I don’t like lessons.. I don’t like to go for orientation.. I don’t like my professor…

IU: I hope you patch things up with your professor by offering him/her a MyChew sweet keke

🌵: I don’t feel like going to school tomorrowㅠㅠ But I have to right? I’m the teacher after all…

IU: kekekekekekepeuhehehehehe

I’ve never been a teacher, so I didn’t know.. Even the teacher doesn’t want to go back to school.. Teacher uaena fighting too ㅜㅜ

🌵: Unnie, it’s my first day as a nurse today and I’m really really worried about whether I’ll be able to do a good job and I don’t like(?) that now I’ve started work, I don’t get school holidays and I’m having trouble sleeping, but right at that moment, unnie came here and made me cryㅠㅠ I’m not going back to school or starting school or a baby uaena,,, but I’ll try my best with your words of encouragement🥹 Thank you so much!!! I love you 💛

IU: Fighting!! Baby member of society!! Thinking of this message, I’ve got to be kind to nurses all the time.

🌵: Unnie, when are you going to bed?

IU: I’ve got to go to bed now. I only came to five words of encouragement, but it was fun reading the comments 😚

🌵: I’m a university student… but I shall go with the MyChew strategy…. Brothers and sisters let’s go~

IU: Based on my experience, MyChew works for those in their 30s too..

🌵: Unnie, I’m on the verge of tears. I missed you so much. I needed this today 🥺 But what if I can’t make friends at school?😭

IU: Don’t be impatient.. How about finding out if there are others who like IU too..?

🌵: Is it decided that we are going with dayookie then? I can’t give up on yukaleyㅠㅠ

IU: We’ve got to decide the winner fair and square…! 🥹🥲 kekeke dayookie is so cute too 😌

🌵: Unnie anyway you never reply to my messages……🥹 I’m going to bed first! Have a good rest as well, unnie!!!!! I wrote yesterday that I hope unnie has a good sleep too. I hope you sleep well today and tomorrow and the day after too!!!! Don’t fall sick!!!!! Stay healthy!!!!! Got it~~? Don’t just take care of uaenas, you must must must take care of yourself too. I love you, unnie. Love love love love love love love love love you 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

IU: Goodbye goodbye good night 💗

IU: I think keke I’ve held back the people keke who actually need to sleep early 😂

That was fun. All of you have got to do a good job tomorrow.

You can’t wake up late, so hurry and go to bed 💗

I hope your day turns out to be better than you were worried about

Goodbye 🙂

Translated by IUteamstarcandy with love

[barnabytremayne]

Inferiority Complex: Navigating the Maze of Self-Doubt

A rewrite of an early essay.

Ah, the ol' inferiority complex—a lifelong subscription to the "Am I Good Enough?" newsletter. It's like being in a never-ending thumb war with your own psyche. You've got these decent qualities—like, you're not terrible at Scrabble, and you can microwave a Hot Pocket without burning down the kitchen—but somehow, they're never enough. It's like your brain's a snarky Yelp reviewer: "Three stars—room for improvement."

For me, this feeling of inadequacy is like a clingy roommate who overstays their welcome. It's not just about flunking the "I'm Enough" exam; it's about feeling like you're missing a crucial page from the manual of life. And it's not picky—it'll haunt you at work, in relationships, even during that awkward moment when you're trying to parallel park.

Comparison? Oh, it's our favourite pastime. We measure ourselves against others like we're in a perpetual "Who's Got the Best Existence?" contest. Spoiler alert: We always lose. It's like playing Monopoly with Jeff Bezos—no matter how many hotels you build on Baltic Avenue, he's still got a spaceship.

And it's not just one thing. It's a tangled mess of emotions, like earphones in your pocket after a vigorous dance-off. You're not just "not good enough" at your job; you're also "not good enough" at being photogenic, at making small talk, at remembering to water your succulents. It's a cosmic conspiracy—the universe whispering, "Hey, buddy, you're missing a few screws."

Now, let's sprinkle some extra complexity on this inferiority sundae. Being autistic? That's like playing life on Expert Mode. Social cues? Ha! We're decoding hieroglyphics. We're the square pegs in a world of round holes, trying to fit in while secretly wondering if we're from a different planet.

And mental health? Buckle up. Depression and anxiety are like those uninvited party guests who crash your self-esteem soirée. Depression's the DJ, spinning sad tunes, and anxiety's the bartender, serving up "What If?" cocktails. Suddenly, you're doubting your ability to adult. "Can I handle taxes? Can I adult? Can I even microwave that Hot Pocket?"

Relationships? Oh boy. We're convinced our partners will wake up one day, squint at us, and say, "Wait, you're not the person I ordered." We're like emotional impostor syndrome. "Sure, they love me now, but just wait till they see my sock drawer organisation skills."

Career? It's a tightrope walk over a pit of self-doubt. "Am I smart enough? Talented enough? Can I adult AND microwave Hot Pockets?" We hesitate to chase our passions, fearing we'll trip and fall into the abyss of "Not Good Enough."

But here's the twist: I'm learning. I'm kinder to myself now. I've got a mental Post-it note that says, "Hey, cut yourself some slack." I focus on the good stuff—like that supportive partner who thinks we're the bee's knees (even if we're more like the bee's ankles).

And therapy? It's my secret weapon. I sit in those comfy chairs, spill my emotional guts, and learn strategies. I'm like an emotional MacGyver, cobbling together coping mechanisms with duct tape and hope.

So, fellow complex-havers, let's embrace our quirks. Let's microwave those Hot Pockets and remember: We're enough—even if we're still figuring out how to parallel park. 🚗🌟

[awclintno]

@cptcvrter

"Hey, if we have to one of those hearing-things about this one, then I want Loki to have to talk at it. I want him to have to say shrimp balls out loud, into a microphone for all of SHIELD's top brass." When Clint didn't know what to say -- or when he had something he was trying not to say, one strategy he used was to just babble. About anything and everything. And right now, Clint was desperately trying not to say, 'Hey Angel-Eyes, wanna know the crazy thing my best buddy said to me today? About you and me?' Because he had a feeling it just wouldn't come out right. No matter how he said it. So he drummed his fingers on his knees and glanced around Peggy's office while she set up for the debrief. "Is that a new succulent in the window? Looks pointy," he said, nodding towards the plant. "For the record, my cover was only almost blown. We probably would've been fine if not for how pissy Loki got in the closet. Hey, wanna know what he said? About you and me?" Well, futz.

[manishaasinfratecho]

Breathe New Life into Your Space: Budget-Friendly Design with MITS Work

Do you dream of a stunningly designed interior but worry about the cost? You're not alone! Creating a beautiful and functional space doesn't have to break the bank. At MITS Work, a leading interior design company in Noida and a trusted partner for homeowners across India, we believe everyone deserves a space that reflects their style and personality.

This article is packed with practical tips and design inspiration to help you transform your space without exceeding your budget. Whether you're searching for an interior decorator near you in Delhi, Patna, or any other city in India, MITS Work's expertise can guide you through the process. We'll show you how to achieve a high-end look using creative strategies and readily available resources.

Finding Inspiration on a Budget:

Embrace DIY Projects: Unleash your inner creativity! Upcycle old furniture with a fresh coat of paint or reupholster tired pieces with colorful fabrics. Explore online tutorials or attend local workshops to learn basic carpentry or craft skills.

Think Outside the Box: Explore thrift stores, flea markets, and vintage shops for unique treasures. You might find hidden gems like antique accent pieces, decorative mirrors, or even artwork at a fraction of the retail cost.

Harness the Power of Social Media: Platforms like Pinterest and Instagram are goldmines for design inspiration. Follow best interior designers in Delhi and other design professionals for trending ideas and budget-friendly hacks.

Maximizing Space with Smart Design:

Rearrange and Repurpose: Before buying new furniture, consider rearranging your existing pieces. A fresh layout can create a completely different feel. Repurpose furniture for multiple functions, like using an ottoman as a coffee table or a console table as a desk.

Embrace Multifunctional Furniture: Opt for furniture that serves multiple purposes. Foldable chairs, ottomans with storage compartments, and nesting tables can maximize space and functionality in smaller areas.

Let There Be Light: Natural light is a powerful design tool. Open curtains and blinds to brighten your space and create a more open feel. Consider strategically placing mirrors to reflect light and make the room feel more spacious.

Creating Impact with Affordable Decor:

The Power of Paint: A fresh coat of paint can dramatically transform a space. Choose bold colors for an accent wall or calming neutrals for a serene atmosphere. Explore affordable paint brands that offer high-quality options.

Accessorize with Intention: A few well-chosen accessories can add personality and style. Visit thrift stores or discount home decor stores for throw pillows, artwork, plants, or decorative vases.

Bring Nature Indoors: Houseplants not only add a touch of life to your space but also improve air quality. Opt for low-maintenance varieties like succulents or snake plants that require minimal care.

Why Choose MITS Work as Your Budget-Friendly Design Partner?

At MITS Work, we understand that budget-friendly design doesn't mean sacrificing quality or style. Our experienced interior design company in Delhi offers a range of services tailored to your needs and budget. We can help you:

Develop a budget plan and stick to it.

Find creative and affordable solutions for your design goals.

Guide you through the design process, ensuring a cohesive and stylish outcome.

Conclusion:

Creating a beautiful and functional interior doesn't require a hefty price tag. With a little creativity, resourcefulness, and the expert guidance of MITS Work, you can transform your space into a haven you love without breaking the bank.

Ready to get started? Contact MITS Work today for a free consultation and discover how we can help you achieve your dream space.

[chaotic-super]

Joining The Superfriends - 1

Summary:

Lena has finally had it with her brother and her family, unable to sit back and turn a blind eye to the terrible things they are doing. She quits working at Luthor Corp and moves to National City, intent on making a name for herself outside of her family.

At the same time, The Superfriends are on the look out for a new engineer/IT person so when Lena stumbles across the position on a job site, she applies, having no clue what she's getting herself into.

Lena Luthor has learnt to do many things in her short life. She has more degrees than the average person and she has interests in every corner of the academic world but there is a new topic for her to study, one that she’s been putting off for too long and now. She needs to take the bull by the horns and take it head on. 

She needs to learn how to be a normal person.

After spending way too long standing in the shadow of her psychopathic family, she’s finally taken the leap. She’s quit Luthor Corp, for good. She’s packing to move away from Metropolis and is aiming for a fresh start in National City, now she’s got to figure out what she’s going to do when she gets there.

She has no money of her own, used to using her personal card connected to the Luthor fortune that has now been cancelled so she has no access to those funds. She has one account in her own name but it doesn’t have much money in it, just enough to get her to National City and cover her first couple of months’ rent on a cheap place, and she can’t afford to be picky about the apartment.

Her first goal for when she gets there is to find a job, something to pay her rent after those couple of months, keep her living anywhere but in one of the many Luthor properties, somewhere that is hers and hers alone.

The one thing she’s always dreamed of it’s finally moving away and leaving her wretched family behind but she’s never had the balls to do it, to make take the leap and decide that enough is enough and she wants nothing to do with them anymore.

Well, last night she finally did it, she officially resigned from her position in the science labs in Luthor Corp after finding out that Lex was manipulating her designs and experiments to use them to make weapons to kill aliens and selling them on, all whilst leaving the designs under her name, setting her up to take the fall if it ever gets discovered.

That was the final straw. In the moment that she stumbled across Lex rooting through her filing cabinets and conducting his shady business late last night when he thought she had already left, not knowing that she had an incredible idea for a new piece of medical equipment earlier in the evening that spurred her to stay late.

The words left her mouth before she even thought it through. “I quit. You can keep this cesspit of a company to yourself.”

Lex didn’t even put up a fight, just let her know that everything that she had designed up until that point is considered the intellectual property of Luthor Corp and to leave her key card on the front desk on her way out.

She did exactly that, clutching her little succulent off her desk to her chest on the way out, her head held high.

Thinking back to that moment just a few hours ago, she wishes she had thought it through, exposed Lex for what he was doing or made a better exit strategy for herself so she wouldn’t be left scrambling to land on her feet but what’s done is done.

She has her plane ticket already booked with built up airmiles she’s accrued going to science conventions and she even managed to book a couple of time slots to view some potential apartments, tiny ones that are clearly not on the good side of town but she needs cheap and she doesn’t want a roommate so she isn’t going to complain about the size or lack of style.

Lena’s really hoping to find a job right away so she can get some money behind her and then move to a better place, trying to be careful with her money but that’s where her problem lies: she has no idea how to deal not having enough money, she doesn’t want to use a credit card because while she has one, the Luthor’s financial advisor has always been very clear on how to use it and she’s heard horror stories from him about poor people getting into debt that they can never pay back, she’s not going that route. Lex probably had that card cancelled as well anyway.

She’s really glad that she has her own account to fall back on, it hasn’t been touched in a couple of years, designed for when she planned her first escape from her family that she never went through with so she only ever made two deposits into.

Now, with all of her most important things packed up into just three suitcases, she’s spending her last night in a fancy penthouse before she jets off to a life of normalcy, a life of freedom.

Her eyes blur as she stares at the spreadsheet open in front of her, trying to come up with a budget to live off of but she doesn’t even know how much groceries cost so it’s proving difficult. She’s just going to have to play it by ear and pray that she’ll be able to muddle through somehow.

When it all becomes too much, the numbers all swirling across the screen and her head feeling too heavy for her shoulders, she closes her laptop and sinks her head down into her hands, it’s time for one last suitcase check to make sure she has everything she needs and then it’s time to try and get a couple of hours sleep before she has to leave for the airport.

Lena notes that while her body numb, and her brain is tired, there is a newfound sense of freedom that she’s never had before, a weight off her shoulders that she’d never fully acknowledged the existence of until she shook it off.

Of the three suitcases she has, one and a half are clothes and the other one and a half are full of her important documents, books, electronics and keepsakes she has been given over the years from Sam and Jack. She’ll miss them but knows that they’ll be overjoyed when she calls them from the airport in the morning, unwilling to call them at three in the morning and interrupt their sleep.

She looks over the cases and then at her desk before smuggling her succulent amongst her clothes is, the one thing that has touched Luthor Corp that she’ll be keeping because she named him Antonio and has gotten too emotionally attached to leave him behind.

Just as she is zipping up her last suitcase after confirming that she has all of her documents a last minute thought pops into her head. She should probably pack some food, just in case.

There is just enough space in her suitcase for her to jam in a couple of boxes of mac and cheese. She’s not even going to touch the canned food in her cupboards, she’s already going to have to pay more than she wants to for the weight of her books in her luggage, she doesn’t want to add to that.

She zips her suitcase up once she’s successfully jammed the food in, happy that she’ll have something to eat for at least a couple of days if everything goes awry.

She crawls into bed and closes her eyes, spending the last few minutes of wakefulness imagining the life that she’s about to step into, a life where she can be anyone other than another evil Luthor.

-

For the first time in her life, Lena slept in a motel. It really wasn’t as bad as she expected it to be. Sure there was stains on every surface and she had to shove a chair under the doorhandle because she didn’t trust the lock, but overall, it wasn’t as bad as she was expecting.

She got off her early morning flight and headed right for the motel, having already replanned where to go while she was waiting in the airport for her flight. She stored her luggage there and freshened up before catching a bus, also for the first time ever, across town to look at some vacant apartments.

Lena isn’t really sure how they can be classified as apartments since they are little more than a kitchen, bathroom and one extra room that you could just about fit both a bed and a couch into so it doubles as a living room and a bedroom. She put a deposit on the second one she looked at on the spot and was told that she can move her things in two days later and get the keys.

The only reason she passed up on the first one and chose the second one is that while they are essentially the same, the second one has a bathtub with a shower installed instead of just a shower cubicle so small that she won’t be able to turn around in it.

When she wasn’t out sorting her future (hopefully temporary) home, she was trawling through job sites, sending off her resume and in between job searching she was scrubbing at the unidentified stains on the motel surfaces to take her mind off of everything. She raided the supply closet down the hall from the reception area since it was unlocked and took everything she needed to get it cleaner than it has been in what is obviously years.

Despite spending all day every day in the motel room applying for what few jobs there are in her field, she still hasn’t heard anything back from any of them even with her impressive list of qualifications. Not so much as a peep.

And now she’s sat in her mostly empty new apartment, still on her laptop trying to find more jobs to apply for. She may just have to look for something out of her field. Lena has to admit that she never imagined herself thinking of applying for a coffee shop gig but it might just come down to that, she can only afford one more months’ rent, especially after she went out earlier to buy herself a mattress, and bedsheets, it was way more expensive than she ever thought it would be but call her snobby all you want, she’s not sleeping on the floor.

Since there’s only the mattress and her suitcases in the whole place, the tiny apartment actually looks a decent size, for now at least but with no couch or chairs, Lena has no choice but to sit herself down on the mattress on the floor to continue with her search.

Lena stares over at Antonio, who she perched on top of her stack of books that she unpacked then rolls onto her stomach and focuses her eyes onto her laptop screen then she refreshes the job site for what must be at least the tenth time today with her fingers crossed.

Nothing new shows up so with a heavy heart she goes to the search bar to find other jobs that she could take in the meantime. Lena’s emerald eyes scan through the suggested list of positions to search for and land on IT.

While she has never specifically worked in IT before, she is proficient with a computer and is excellent at coding, although none of her qualifications directly match up with the role, she might be able to find something to get her by until she can find a better gig elsewhere.

With a steady finger she clicks on the little tab and scans the new list containing all the IT jobs going in the area.

Lena clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth rhythmically as she scrolls the page down to take a better look at what’s available. There’s not much but definitely more than what she was looking at before she widened her search.

After a brief glance at the listings she begins her applications, sending off her resume and filling out any questionnaires that are required in order to apply, as pointless and boring as some of them seem to be.

There is one particular listing that catches her eye though, one that she isn’t too sure about but is going to apply for anyway. She rereads it a couple of times, not entirely sure about it because it seems a little bit sketchy but she goes through with it anyway.

They are advertising an IT support position but in the description it states that any experience in engineering and/or mechanics would be helpful.

That alone certainly jingles her bells because it would suit her well but the company is listed for is titled: John Jones, Private Investigator.

What is that PI doing that would require him to need an IT support that has a background involving engineering or mechanics? It makes sense for them to need IT support, most companies do, but the other things? Is the boss just really into his cars or something?

The questions are not stopping her from sending off her resume with a click and listening to the little swooshing sound her laptop makes as it sends. Maybe if she hears back from them she’ll get a few answers.

Her thoughts are brushed aside fairly quickly in favour of applying to the rest of the jobs she’s found, around ten or so different ones, and then putting her laptop aside so she can get some rest for her busy day tomorrow where she’ll be…applying for more jobs, or if she’s lucky, she’ll be doing some research on how to impress during a job interview.

Read Chapter 1 on A03 here

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[ruthbancroftgarden]

Huernia thuretii

Huernia is a large genus of stapeliads - a group long placed in the Asclepiadaceae, or Milkweed Family. Now, however, this whole family has been put into the Apocynaceae, or Dogbane Family - so instead of calling it Asclepiadaceae (a family), we are calling it Asclepiadoideae (a subfamiy). However it is classified, this fascinating group of succulents is notable for wonderful five-pointed flowers, often with a starfish-like appearance. Often, they emit unpleasant odors in order to attract flies as pollinators (this is a clever strategy, considering how common flies are, but it is pure trickery, since there is nothing in it for the fly). Hurenia thuretii grows in southern and western South Africa, as well as across the border in southern Namibia. The plant pictured is quite small (about 3.4 inches tall, or 8.6 cm), but the maroon and pale yellow striping of the flowers is striking.

-Brian

[ubuildhome]

Low Maintenance Flower Bed Ideas for the Front of Your House

Welcome to a world of effortless beauty and captivating curb appeal! In this guide, we'll delve into a realm where nature effortlessly complements architecture: the realm of low maintenance flower bed ideas for the front of your house. Gone are the days of constant upkeep and endless hours spent tending to high-maintenance blooms. We invite you to discover a spectrum of creative possibilities that not only enhance your home's exterior but also grant you the gift of time – time to savor the beauty, rather than meticulously maintain it.

Whether you possess a green thumb or simply seek to infuse life into your surroundings with minimal effort, these ideas will redefine the way you perceive flower beds. Join us as we explore an array of plant choices, design strategies, and maintenance tactics that harmonize nature and architecture in a choreography of beauty and convenience. Your journey to an enchanting, low-maintenance floral oasis begins here.

Native Plants: Opt for native plants that are well adapted to your region's climate and soil conditions. These plants require less water and maintenance as they have evolved to thrive in your area naturally. Native wildflowers, grasses, and shrubs can create a picturesque and eco-friendly flower bed.

Mulching: Applying a layer of mulch around your flower bed not only helps retain moisture but also prevents weed growth. Organic mulches, such as wood chips or straw, break down over time, enriching the soil and reducing the need for frequent fertilization.

Perennial Plants: Select perennial flowers that return year after year, reducing the need for replanting. Varieties like coneflowers, daylilies, and lavender are not only beautiful but also require minimal care once established.

Grouping Plants: Arrange plants in clusters based on their water and sunlight needs. This prevents over-watering and allows you to target care more effectively. It also creates a visually appealing arrangement of colors and textures.

Drip Irrigation: Installing a drip irrigation system can be a game-changer for low maintenance flower beds. It delivers water directly to the plant roots, minimizing water wastage and reducing the frequency of watering.

Rock Gardens: Incorporating rocks, pebbles, and succulents can add an interesting dimension to your flower bed. These elements require virtually no maintenance and can withstand varying weather conditions.

Landscape Fabric: Placing landscape fabric beneath the mulch can help suppress weed growth and minimize the need for weeding, saving you time and effort.

Container Plants: For an even more hands-off approach, use decorative containers with drought-resistant plants. These containers can be moved around easily and require minimal upkeep.

Low-Growing Ground Covers: Instead of traditional grass, consider using low-growing ground covers like creeping thyme or moss. They require less mowing and add unique textures to your flower bed.

Easy-Care Bulbs: Planting bulbs such as daffodils, tulips, and crocuses in the fall provides a burst of color in the spring without demanding much ongoing attention.

Minimalist Design: Embrace a minimalist design with a few well-chosen plants and simple geometric shapes. This not only looks elegant but also reduces the overall maintenance workload.

Regular Pruning: While aiming for low maintenance, occasional pruning or deadheading spent flowers is still necessary. This encourages new growth and maintains a neat appearance.

conclusion

In conclusion, a stunning front yard doesn't have to come at the cost of endless gardening chores. By incorporating these low maintenance flower bed ideas, you can create a charming and inviting space without dedicating excessive time and effort. Whether you're a busy professional or simply prefer a hassle-free garden, these ideas ensure that your front yard remains a beautiful focal point year-round.