#Very happy to share what I know with the kind people out there

[dalishbarmitzvah]

(moving right on past the obvious and very bleak "lots of people will flat out never be persuaded to care about jews and the best you can hope for is that they are not actively happy about jewish suffering"...)

to sum up what follows (mostly, honestly, me wandering through my own work to understand), tldr:

people genuinely do not know. they do not seek out our stories, are not given them by sources they , being truly informed about current events is very complicated, and most people have poor critical reading skills, have not learned how to consume varied sources, and do not know how to synthesise from varied sources before coming to conclusions or forming strong opinions, nor do they feel that is a requirement

the 24 hour news cycle, digital news outlets, and social media have created a media news climate in which people are more likely to believe they know things than they are to actually be informed on things, and is more likely to both create and maintain echo chambers (now filled with people who believe that it would be impossible for them to be in an echo chamber)

goys are generally not incentivized to do the work to seek out or stay up to date on things involving jews, israel, or antisemitism, and are less likely to encounter them, less likely to engage with them deeply or deliberately or often, and are less likely to be able to recognize propaganda, falsehoods, stereotypes, and fearmongering present in any reporting they do encounter.

centrist news outlets are doing the world a major disservice by being largely silent about jewish issues or israel beyond the most bombastic headlines, and neither right-wing nor leftist outlets are picking up the slack in any honest way, as both peddle very narrow, very biased perspectives when and if they bother sharing them at all.

in regard to mainstream journalism at large: they are failing to do their actual jobs (thourough, nuanced, non-biased news coverage) largely because of the broken way that people get their news (see #2) and the ways in which that has deincentivized journalism from coverage of anything less likely to get clicks and views. people don't click on stuff they think is too confusing, not relevant to their lives, too boring, etc. 24 hour news becoming the norm means doing away with the kind of informed person who would read their daily or weekly paper(s) cover to cover (or at least all the actual news parts). that same person, faced with an endless barrage of articles to click on, can never finish reading, and is, therefore, less likely to start reading things that challenge them or their perspective than they might have been if they had encountered them in print. for the increasingly rare news-reading goy, this means less clicks on articles related to jewish or israeli issues, which in turn means that the sites they're clicking on are less likely to pay anyone to write those articles

many people get their news almost exclusively from their social media feeds, which are curated to show them more of what they've already engaged with, and less of anything else. video content condensing articles skimmed from sources trouble by everything i already mentioned is in no way a balanced news diet, but for a lot of people, that is all they get - alongside a chillingly common pressure to form and hold strong stances on basically every single issue you can possibly imagine, with negative social consequences for admitting you don't know or don't have an opinion on something.

in this context: people facing a constant barrage of overexposure to news and perspectives from all over the world are lead to believe that everything that is happening is something they're aware of, and, as a logical inverse, that if they haven't seen anything about something, that it may as well not exist, not be happening, and not be real. (again, see #2).

compassion fatigue. just like we can't know about everything, we also cannot care about everything. and, let's face it: not caring about jews comes very naturally to most goys. this is the part where i say that i understand your outrage, but on a very real, practical level, you must understand that we are a minority many people know next to nothing about (though they often think they know about us, which is another problem), and that goyim who do not share their lives or communities directly with jews who remind them of their jewishness fairly regularly are unlikely to be very aware of us or what we're facing.

so this is the one thing you can do something about: you can be unavoidably jewish in the lives of non-jews, and it will remind them that jews exist, that we are real and complex beings who are worthy of attention and love. you can discuss these issues, publicly or personally, and it will prompt them to learn more, and to see more in places they may not have seen it before otherwise. you can remain steadfast and informed, and you can share what you know, believe, and feel, with people who would otherwise never have a glimpse of it. you can succeed where major news outlets are failing: you can be the reason why at least a few people do know and do care. it will take patience, it will take work. it will not be easy, or painless, or short... but it will also not be thankless. be jewish. live jewishly. share your jewish perspective with people you are in community with. show them that you have it to offer, and encourage them to seek it. this, too, is tikkun olam.

aaand under the cut is the Long, Somewhat Meandering Version that i came back around and synthesized down into that still-too-long-still-didn't-read up there. in other words, that up there is the Post, and what follows is rough draft. it's worth keeping there enough for me, for my own notes, but it's a lot of words and they're not all in the best order, so.

OK. SO.

first off, it would probably help if sources that aren't israeli or jewish reported any of it. it's become very obvious to me that very few people, for reasons both more and less valid, trust israeli news sources, or seek them out. even people who read multiple american newspapers to get perspective on issues don't bother with reading outlets that are actually involved in events discussed directly. maybe if some more western journos would sprout some fucking integrity for once and source back or platform voices on the ground there, it would help a bit.

i mean, sure, plenty of people will never give a shit, either because they've got deep-seated antisemitic tendencies, or because they're just blindly apolitical (or, charitably, some perhaps because they're focused on their direct communities. i know some people really are that way, and honestly good for them). but i think, perhaps because jews are culturally raised to be critical readers who are deeply informed about the world around them, and trained from a very young age to see patterns and connections in things, that it doesn't occur to us that a lot of people are just profoundly not like that. as a result, it's easy to see antisemitism in places where it's actually genuine ignorance - and a lot of that is very difficult to combat.

it takes real, significant effort to seek out varied sources for your news, and it takes real, significant effort - not to mention learned, practiced skill! - to sift out a more holistic image of the truth by reading between the lines and seeing what is reported where and by whom and in what ways... and also what isn't. and what i keep seeing in my own critical news reading (which is far from fully comprehensive!) is that you have to go pretty far from the sources most people are most familiar with to see beyond a few very curated images of what's happening in israel, what's going on with the hostages, what's going on globally or domestically in america or in various places in europe with jews there, etc. we see the jewish story all the time, because we live it, and we look for it, and we know how to.

but the reality is that the average goy doesn't even know enough about jews, or israel, to know that not all jews are israeli or zionist, not all zionists believe the same things, not all israelis support everything the israeli government is doing all the time, and not all israelis are jewish. they frankly barely know what jews are, except that they are Other. so how could they possibly know enough to see patterns rippling throughout the entire world beyond in varied and nuanced and horrifying ways. they will never, ever see the patterns we see. they have not been trained to do so, and they are, by and large, not going to take the genuinely immense time and effort it takes to get to that point.

so, maybe they don't know because they

people only see what they see in the sources they do see (obviously) - and those sources are very, very narrow in what they report on. the only western sources that are talking about it are far right or so-"left"-we're-accidentally-reinventing-fascism-here-too type sources, and they paint the issue in the strokes that aids their preexisting perspective (which is never truly a human one for jews, nor for israelis). most people aren't going to be picking up the jerusalem post anytime soon, but they might read the new york times or the washington post or a local paper (or, more likely, watch cnn or msnbc. or fox. or whatever.). so they're only getting what those outlets report on - and they just really don't report much on the human details of things like this. so that's one thing that could be done - centrist sources could report more, could print journalism that's closer to the source more often. but people might skip those articles. i've read studies that indicate that's exactly what people do - that digital newspapers specifcally make it so much easier for people to simply never encounter or engage with stuff outside their bubble, because you choose what to click on, and you choose when to stop, and so few people read "the whole paper" anymore (or even could, considering how many things are just published scattershot, random articles dropping all throughout the day!) so it would help some if that reporting was better, but honestly, with the kind of shape that news media is in right now... that's far from straightforward.

but of course, that's only applicable to people who even consume primary news sources to begin with... and increasingly, i encounter more and more people who are willing to freely admit that they have opinions and thoughts and believe they know things about stuff they haven't even done the basic research or reading on. and frankly, i don't know how we deal with that! the news-opinions zeitgeist we're in right now is frankly weird as fuck: people are less educated, from less diverse sources, on average, while also feeling pressure to have strong opinions and thoughts that they cannot (and should not) possibly form on their own. the way so, so many people consume news increasingly from algorithmic social media streams has done immense damage - people intrinsically believe that shit they saw on tiktok is Reporting (there have been studies showing that people tend to view news/opinions coming from people they percieve as familiar to them as being more likely to be truthful, and that that translates to, y'know... people in your phone who absolutely you do not know in real life and should not be trusting that way!). carrying on from that: if they DON'T see something "reported on" within in their circle/on their feed, then that means it's not happening. not even just that they don't know about it, but literally that it's not real. because we all know everything about everything. all the time. it's right there. the algorithm feeds it to us constantly. people think that if something was happening, surely someone would have mentioned it to them by now. i don't think people are mostly aware of this, at all, either... and that makes it all the more insidious.

used to be, people knew that there was plenty they didn't know about, because they knew how hard it was to learn about things that happened far away.... but now, with anyone in the world* being able to hop on their smart phone and say 'hey i'm from the other side of the planet and here's what's happening here*' (*at least, allegedly)? i think people genuinely don't consider that things might be happening that they haven't heard about. we hear about everything, all the time. 24 hour news cycle. digital newspapers. tiktok influencers sharing bite-sized news stories distilled from articles you haven't read to know if they actually read them either, from sources you're not familiar enough with to discern how much trust to put in them. videos of people in the worst parts of war zones staring directly at you and begging you for help you cannot possibly give them. but most people don't see images of released hostages. they don't see headlines from israeli journalists - not the deep propaganda, and not the honest ones. they don't see images of israeli activists or protestors who are fighting alongside and for their palestinian neighbours. if they see anyone on the ground in the area at all, they see desperate begging, and they see hamas propaganda - and it never occurs to them that parts of this story are missing... because we all see everything all the time. if it were happening, if it were real, then we would know. surely, we would have seen it already.

it makes it all the more funny when you hear people spout off about how jews are controlling the media or israel is controlling america or whatever nonsense... like surely, if any of us, the israeli state included, actually were controlling any of that, they would make it a little bit harder for people to avoid ever knowing anything firsthand about any of it.

so what can we do?

we can help them see us, hear us, know us, and love us. not everyone, not the ones who refuse, not the ones who hate us and won't budge. but we can be present in our communities and visible to our colleages and friends.

people are not going to notice and not going to care about things they have no reason to notice or care about. they're not going to form a nuanced perspective on israeli politics or modern pogroms or whether or not ben shapiro has ever heard of pikuach nefesh or not. they're not going to understand what jews are and aren't, what we can be, what we have been, what's happening to us. they're not going to see news that isn't being reported where they get their news... unless they see YOU.

it can be maddening, to have such a tiny little impact, but also incredibly gratifying. i am one of the only visible jews in the small town where i live, and i am very visible, and i never, ever shut the fuck up about it. people who know me at all know that i am jewish, and by talking to me, i can help them understand, and learn, and pay attention, and be vigilant on our behalf. i have seen it work. i have heard people tell me that they started noticing antisemitism in news sources they used to read - and that they stopped trusting them because of it. i have had people ask me for where to look for more information on issues they had heard only whispers about and didn't trust their ability to google on their own (which i really, really appreciate). i have had people tell me how grateful they are to know me and to learn from me. without me, they would likely have either never been prompted to have those thoughts, or they would have never pursued them very far, because they would have lacked a trusted sounding board. i know, for a fact, that people on (mostly) all sides of the political spectrum around me have come closer to seeing jews, and to seeing jews as human, because of me.

i have helped leftists gain perspective on israel, showed them how to see through propaganda (israeli, hamas, and evangelical), how to notice antisemitic slogans and rhetoric, taught them about the realities of israeli mandatory service, shared about my mom's experience living on a kibbutz, taught them some of the history of zionism and of the state of israel. because of me, people i know are telling people i don't know that "from the river to the sea" derives from a sentiment of violent antisemitism, and because of me, people i know are aware that israeli activists and objectors who share their concerns about the israeli government exist and fight alongside their palestinian neighbours to make their country a better place, and they know that palestinians generally do not support hamas. and i have helped people more to the center and right learn more about all of that and more. i have taught people what judaism is, what it is to me, and what it is to people who are very different to me. i've taught them how someone can be secular, atheist, and still very much jewish. i've taught them about where those guys in funny hats fit into the continuum between the ba'al shem tov and me, how we are alike and how we are different - how we have been forced to change in different ways, to adapt. i've taught them about the history of zionist movements, about jewish anarchists and socialists, about pogroms, about talmud, about tu b'shvat. people who believed, before me, that eretz yisrael was an empty wasteland before the first zionist settlers arrived to bring it to life, and people who believed that it was a thriving arab community that faced a military invasion before the state of israel was established, both have a bit more perspective on a very complicated history, because of me. because i exist, because i will not touch money on shabbos, because i will not shut my mouth, because i wear my beard and my payos and i cover my head, because i am not ashamed of who i am, because i have taken the time to be educated and to unapologetically assist in the education of others, people in my small town in the pacific northwest know about israel as a real place, and jews as a real people - whether or not we live there, and in all our many, many complex and nuanced perspectives on it.

i don't mean to tokenize yourself or reduce yourself to being a public service. but i do mean to push back when you hear someone discussing an even they've clearly only heard on very limited perspective on. i do mean that people who know they have at least one jewish friend (or acquaintance/community member/coworker/whatever) are more likely to notice, more likely to think critically, when things involving jews, or involving israel, are brought up. and to be clear: if you do this, you have to get really good at not telling people they're wrong or stupid, because people will shut down if you do that. you have to learn how to show people that their perspective is lacking without just telling them that they're ignorant. no one wants to listen to someone who's just telling them that they're a dumber, worse version of themselves than they realised. get really comfortable with asking people where they learned something or what they've been taught in the past, and then with how to break down and reconstruct from there, if necessary. honestly, once people feel safe to not know things around you, it gets much easier for you both to simply fill in the gaps.

and i guess, what i mean is that every single day that a goy learns what tikkun olam is and what it means to jews, that that does a very real bit of the work of tikkun olam, because you have helped create a goy who knows something about jews, and what they know now is that our culture teaches us that the world is beautiful and it is broken and it is our sacred duty to help mend it.

so, to answer your question: that's what it takes. it takes remembering that the world is made up of so many little pieces, so many souls, so many fractured little shards that were once contained within spheres that once emanated from the same great oneness - and it takes reminding other individual little shards that they are also a part of the same thing as you, that you come from the same place they do... and that your paths to and from that great oneness are different, and none of them less beautiful than any other.

you can try and fail forever to mend the whole world in one day, and never make any real progress, and it will crush your soul into an even finer powder as you do.

there will always be some people do not care about us because they hate us, or at least, they believe that they do because they have been taught to, but i do not believe they will ever be the majority. most goyim do not care so much about us, simply because they haven't realised that they could love us, because they haven't gotten to know us, because they don't even know how much they would like to. if we are going to reach those goyim before the hateful ones do, we just have to keep at it.

and so long as we do not, in fact, control the media, i'd say we have a lot more chance of changing things, changing how and if people see us, by simply refusing to get out of their line of sight. it is much, much easier to hate or to hurt someone you can't see and don't know. stay where they can see us. become a welcome sight. teach them how to see what we see. the world is not illuminated by guarding of the flame, but rather by the kindling of others from it.

be light. share light. don't ever buy into the isolating darkness and its insistence that we are alone in a silent and unfeeling world, because we are not, and that only benefits those who would seek to destroy us. we are not alone, and we do not have to be alone. the universe is not doomed to a shattered eternity.

(and as for your grief and your anger? direct that at the people who benefit from all of us little people remaining ignorant of each other, remaining divided. goodness knows, there are certainly plenty of them. and i, for my own little part, do not intend to give them the satisfaction.)

Jewish hostages emerge from 16 months of underground captivity emaciated, broken and bewildered, looking for all the world like concentration camp survivors, and the world is silent.

Returned female hostages give graphic and horrifying accounts of sexual assault and torture, and the world is silent.

Antisemitic abuse and hate crime has skyrocketed, Jews are traumatised and terrified and in deep pain, that is celebrated and laughed at, and the world is silent.

THE WORLD IS SILENT.

WHAT WILL IT ACTUALLY TAKE FOR PEOPLE TO GIVE A SHIT??

I just don’t understand. I never will.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Notes- Blabber Mouth; Anemo Men

x gn!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: February 9th, 2025

Description: Anemo version of Blabber Mouth

Notes: CW a few suprise pregnancies I put Wanderer in here, but I personally subscribe to trans-man Wanderer because why would Raiden give him a male body? Also, this series is slowly separating from the original prompt and I feel like I'm just making these kids psychic but shhh, babies

Hydro Dendro Cryo Pyro Anemo Electro Geo

Back to directory

Aether

Kids , he likes them but never really thought they were in his future

I mean, he’s always traveling with his sister, it’s not until Teyvat that he kind of settles down

Abyss!Aether or Traveler!Aether, they meet you and staying here doesn’t sound too bad

Your first is an accident, they make the decision for him

Not that he wanted to leave you anyways

Your second is planned, but your first born beats you to tell him

Aether comes back from wherever he was, helping Khaenri’ah, a commission, ruling the Abyssal Khaeri’ans, and your kid tackles him in a hug

Then, without you saying anything, they talk about reading a story to the baby

And you play mock offense thinking they were reading to you and Aether is trying to figure out what baby

You send your kid off to clean up their toys so you can talk

Aether drops to his knees and hugs your waist

Xiao

It’s not that he doesn’t want kids, he just doesn’t think about it because he doesn’t want another thing he can’t have

He can’t be around people normally, being around an infant? Bad idea

So, you’d have to be anything but a mortal, someone who can be around him despite his debt

Then, he gives it some thought and he’s still really not sure

It takes many conversations for him to see your side of things

Cries the first time he holds your baby

As your first grows up, he tries to figure out how to broach the subject of having another

You laugh when he finally gets it out, face red, and quickly apologize before saying another sounds nice

Your kid is very defensive, and they try defending you from one of the dogs around Wangshuu inn one day

When you ask what’s wrong, because normally the dogs aren't a problem, your kid says they saw the dog scare a baby the other day

Takes you both a second to figure out how that correlates and then it’s a trip to Baizhu

He cries, the first time it wasn’t real to him until he held the baby but this time it’s real from the start

Venti

You guys start talking about having kids, and he’s not even sure he can have them

Like, he’s a windspirit and sure he’s in human form but how far does that extend

So your first born is a bit of a surprise

But he’s so happy, sings to them all the time while your pregnant

He drinks less too, can’t be drinking at Angel’s share when he’s trying to wrangle the little whirlwind into bed

It’s one such night when your little one runs out of their room and into yours

They curl up with you in your bed, and Venti’s trying to convince them to sleep in their bed

They declare they want to sleep with their sibling

You stop reading/pretending to sleep, confused, and Venti just gives in

They make a good point, how could he pull such a protective big sibling away from their little sibling

Venti’s been around enough to know that children can just tell these things

So he just wraps you all up in his wings and you go to Barbara in the morning

If either of your kids are boys, he’s naming him after the nameless bard

Kazuha

Kids… he wants them, he doesn’t want his family line to end with him

But, it’s not really an option when he’s on the run

Once he returns to Inazuma though, he gives it more serious thought

Spending time in the forge, he sees kids run by a lot and watches their awe as they watch him

He brings it up to you, and you have your first born

We don’t know what his friend’s name is, but your first born is getting named after him

Even if he has to alter it a little bit

He likes to write poetry with your kid, it helps their vocabulary, creativity, and fine motor skills

You two also use it to encourage their self expression

So they express their excitement about the friend in your belly

That poem is getting framed, it makes you both laugh

Heizou

Likes playing with the kids in the city and around Ritou

Hasn’t really considered kids of his own

It’s not until he sees you with the kids that he starts thinking about it

I think your first is an accident, but his excitement even surprises him a bit

Not that he thought he wouldn’t be happy/excited

And your kid takes after their father’s investigative curiosity

So you start acting off and they’re running their own investigation

This one is less of a “little kid sixth sense” and more like “mini detective”

They even get Heizou to join in the investigation

But there’s definitely a bit of weird sibling psychic-ness, your first born predicts baby's gender later on

Everyone’s excited, you first born is already planning investigations to do with them

Extra note, but Heizou definitely takes your infants on easy investigations strapped to his chest in a baby harness

Wanderer

I… don’t think he can have kids, I personally think he was not modeled with the required hardware (fully believe his original model was at least a ken doll and and at most fem)

But, between handling the electro gnosis and being around Dottore, I could see him getting the hardware and systems

I do not think he knows he has these systems, mostly because he’s never tried

So your kid is an accident

And Wanderer has a lot of thoughts but, I think he holds the baby and decides that he can do this

First baby’s name is Niwa

This kid has him wrapped around their finger, and he’s happy with one

And now that you two know he can get you pregnant you two are more careful

Your kid asks for a sibling and he’s not one to deny them if you’re okay with it

They’re also the one to tell you, one day they just press a kiss to your tummy before Wanderer puts them to bed for the night

Tighnari’s in the city, so you check in with him before he leaves

I think Wanderer surprises himself with the love he feels for his kids

[celerydays]

long time no see…

Hey, hi, hello~

I don't know if anyone is still around this little blog o' mine or if I'm just showing up suddenly on the dash and whoever is seeing this might not recall ever even following me lol.

But – whether you remember me or not – I'm just dropping by to say that...I've missed you and that I truly hope you're doing well 🫂💗

I...have not been doing so well. But I've been working on it.

In a way, it's been healing to reshape my approach to things like journaling and capturing photos. I've been taking the time to develop a practice in documenting daily life – the people I care about, the places we visit, and all the random little moments in between – with more intentionality and care than I have in recent years.

(tw: grief and loss/death under cut)

We lost my mother very suddenly last November – and things have been unbearably hard the last few months.

In a lot of ways, 2024 was one of the best years: my partner and I traveled to Japan for the first time ever, my family had a small reunion in our hometown to watch the total solar eclipse together, my best friends got married, and we went on so many amazing trips and had the type of outings that made me so inspired, optimistic, and excited about life and the future.

But in so many other ways, it was also one of the worst years I've had in a long time: starting with a hard-learned (but perhaps overdue) firsthand lesson and reminder on how scary and mean the internet can be, followed by losing both my grandfather in the spring and then my mother just before the winter holidays.

I'm not particularly good when it comes to emotions– forget about even processing grief or putting into any sort of meaningful words how it all feels. But I guess all of this has made me shift my mindset when it comes to wanting to just...remember. To not forget.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

On documenting life through journaling...

I had always journaled in some way or another all my life, but I only really started considering it a serious practice and hobby sometime around 2020. But I had lost my way with it in recent years, treating it solely as some kind of aesthetic-only venture, and only dedicating the time if I knew that I could make it "pretty" and "palatable for sharing".

And so, many entries were missed; days and weeks lost to fuzzy recollection, months bled into each other, and little moments only existed as vague and passing snapshots on my phone gallery (if I even remembered to take a photo).

But I now wish I had just written it down; whatever it was – big, small, angry, funny, sad, happy – just wrote it all down. It didn't have to be an aesthetically collaged spread or artful doodle or drawing. I wish I had documented some of the last times I had seen or spoken with my mother; what she had said, did, or how she reacted to silly news or quips I told her. I barely remember anything even just from the last year.

So now I write it all down, day after day: I'll write what's on my mind, what we did before, what I'm doing currently, what I'm planning to do. If someone calls or my partner walks in to my studio while I'm working and tells me something that has me reacting in the moment I'll jot down a little "omg!!" or "lol" or "holy shit" next to whatever they said or did.

If I get little scraps from the day – receipts, tags, tickets, wrappers – I'll paste it in wherever it happens to fit in my journal, with a little note of the date or what the outing was. And every so often, I'll print out photos to paste in with notes relating back to past entries or junk journal spreads.

Is always pretty? No, but it's pretty in its chaos. Is it always even chronological? Not at all. Does it always make sense? Not really. But I love every page so, so much more than anything I had carefully curated before in my previous journals.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

On documenting life through photos...

I had once carried a camera with me everywhere before phone cameras became decent enough that I didn't feel the need to have a dedicated tool for just taking pictures anymore.

It wasn't until we were all looking through our collective family photos to use for my mother's memorial service and headstone that it hit me that I just don't take as many pictures as I used to– and even when I did, they just don't compare to the ones that I took years ago when I did carry a camera with me on every outing and trip.

We ended up choosing a photo of her that I had taken on my once-beloved dSLR camera I used to haul around with me almost 10 years ago; she was smiling, strong, radiant, beautiful– and it was just a random moment I took my camera out in a Taiwan hair salon while she was waiting for me and my sister to get our hair done for our cousin's wedding.

A bit indescribable – and not even something I realized was missing – but there's something about having an actual camera on hand that pushes me to take more photos, and somehow better and more mindful photos at that.

And so I made the decision to invest in a new camera. An absolute necessity to take photos? No, of course not; I do still have my phone camera after all. But they say (apparently) that "the best camera is the one that you actually use"– and I was most definitely not using my phone as much as I could have been.

This new camera though? Only time will truly tell, but the past has shown that I've worked better with a dedicated camera on hand and already I can't begin to explain the difference it's made in the last week alone since I picked up the habit of carrying a camera around with me again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

This was a crazy long post that sort of got away from me. Not sure where I want to go from here – I guess I just want to say that if you ever felt called to document your life in some way, it's never too late to start; you'll only wish that you had begun sooner.

If you're still here– I love you. I hope you're taking care of yourself.

And thank you for reading along with my incredibly longwinded life update of what was essentially just "I'm grieving so I started journaling more and also bought a camera" lol.

💗

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Complicated (Will Graham)

Description: Will loves Y/N who is cold towards everyone but opens up to him that is until Hannibal comes along

Warning: Smut

Word Count:1,908

Request:Can you write a will graham x fem!reader where reader is an fbi agent and is working in the case with will and will starts to fall in love with her since she ‘understands’ him but she’s quite cold towards everyone can you also make her one of the best agents and Hannibal becomes quite intrigued by her could you add in will and reader smut too pls❤️

Author’s note: kind of an x Hannibal story as well. Also I misread it and thought it said to add smut and then add Will I am sorry but I hope you like it!

She took off her gloves and put them in her pocket as her and Will checked out the body. “Looks dead to me.” She said in a plain voice but Will laughed. “Yeah he certainly does.” Jack put the best agents on the Chesapeake ripper case and all week they’ve been trying to find hints, clues, anything that would give away who it was.

Y/N sighed and looked at the poor guy’s neck. “He was strangled to death.” She said and he nodded, “His lower half is missing.” She nodded. “Way to point out the obvious.” She looks at him and he smiles. They sat there and investigated the upper half of this man. Y/N making jokes with a straight face and Will laughing and adding to the jokes. Y/N was cold and distant to a lot of people. She was very professional and one of the best agents in the FBI.

Will favored her over anyone and loved her jokes even though she never has a joking tone to her voice when she speaks. He could tell her anything and she never judged him and even on rare occasions she would share some things with him. She too had sleep problems and needed therapy. She could make him smile without even trying. He wanted to tell her so badly but decided that it wasn’t right. She was too professional; there was no way that she would date him. 

“You have a good night, Will Graham.” She tells him and he nods, “You as well, Y/N Y/L/N.” As she walked to her car she had a small smile on her face. Will had a huge smile as he got in his car and drove home for another restless night. 

Will should have told her how he felt but once Hannibal met her he had the feeling that Hannibal also liked her but Y/N didn’t seem interested in his company as a matter of fact Y/N didn’t seem to like him at all. “You need to leave, we are working on a case Dr.Lecter.” She told him without looking at him.

Will hid a smile as Hannibal looked surprised. Not many people talked to him like that but he wasn’t offended. He was intrigued and wanted to know more about her. “I was offering my help on the case.” “We don’t need it.” Will nodded at Y/N agreeing with her. “Well I will leave you two to it.” He said and left the room.

“You don’t like him very much do you?” He asked her. She shrugged, “I don’t like many people.” She told him and he felt that. Though he had his quirks with Hannibal the guy was smart. “He shows up and thinks he knows everything and that he could help.” Y/N says and Will looks at her a little surprised. “You aren’t interested in what he has to say?” He asked her. She shrugged, “Not really.” Hannibal felt the complete opposite about her. And the next day Will would be pondered with questions about her. 

“Y/N seems different.” He said to Will who was not happy about him taking interest in her. “Y/N doesn’t really like you Hannibal. I would give up now.” He told him and Hannibal looked offended. “She doesn’t even know me.” Though this was true Y/N didn’t care to get to know him at all. “She’s just like that.” Hannibal looked at him before standing up, “What makes you any different?” He asked Will. Will gave him a smile, “She likes me.” What does Will have that he doesn’t? 

Y/N rolled her eyes as Hannibal walked in her office with Will and Jack. She looked up and greeted ⅔ of them. Hannibal cleared his throat but she ignored him. “Y/N this is Hannibal. You may have already met him.” Y/N nodded and looked over at the man. “He is helping us on the case.” Will said, trying to hide his annoyance. “We don’t need help, we have got this.” Y/N told Jack. Will agreed but Jack didn’t care. Y/N tried to hide her eye roll but Will saw it and smiled at her. “I promise I won’t get in the way.” Hannibal said and Y/N looked at him. This was going to be so fun. 

Hannibal shared his thoughts on what he thought about the next person that was murdered. Y/N hated to admit it but he seemed to know what he was talking about. Maybe he should be in the FBI. “You are onto something Lecter.” Hannibal chuckled, “Did you just call me by my last name?” He asked with a smile.

She looked at him and shrugged, “You have been warming up to me.” He teases and she rolls her eyes. Will was the only person that she truly was comfortable around but after these past few weeks she had gotten closer to him. Will walked in and saw the smile on Hannibal’s face. He too has noticed that Y/N was warming up to Hannibal and he didn’t like it. Hannibal also could tell that Will was annoyed by it but that was more of a reason to do it.

They worked on the case and made up theories and thoughts until it was time to rest. Will left first no longer wanting to be in the room with Hannibal and his flirty comments towards Y/N. “What’s it going to take for you to let me make you dinner?” She looked over at him. 

She couldn’t say exactly how she got to this point. This wasn’t like her at all. She was eating the meal that Hannibal had made her and let herself go for once and now she was on the table that they just ate off of and Hannibal was thrusting into her. Her fingers dug into the table as he rocked her and the table. His large hands gripped her hips tight enough to leave bruises, not that either of them cared right now. Her lips were swollen from kissing and taking his dick into her mouth. She was loud but not extremely loud.

Hannibal had his hips angled to hit her sweet spot so she was moaning and whining for him. He looked down at her and noticed how beautiful she was and how amazing she felt. She whined his name weakly pulling him out of his thoughts and making him thrust faster. He wished Will was here, not to join but to see him fuck the woman of his dreams.

Will would hate it but Hannibal would love it. He wrapped a hand around her throat and groaned, “Are you going to cum for me?” She nodded and was breathless. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock and scream.” He demanded and just from that it was so easy for her. She screamed his name as she came all over him. Her body shuddered and her hips stuttered as she felt the intensity of the orgasm flow through her body. The sight of her made Hannibal cum with a moan. 

The next day Will was supposed to have a session with Hannibal but Y/N was there for the case. Will had nearly walked in on them making out but Y/N stepped away before they could get caught. “What are you doing here?” Will asked her as he walked into Hannibal’s office. She held up the case file in her hand, “I believe I have the next lead.” She told him as she handed him the file. He took it but looked over at Hannibal, “We were supposed to have a session.” “Yes but Y/N said that this was important.” Will opened the file and looked through it.

Though he believed that the other man in the room had something to do with this he couldn’t shame Y/N’s effort. “So this is what we are working on today?” He asked them. Y/N nodded and sat in a chair, Will sat in the other one. He couldn’t shake off how weird it was that Y/N was in Hannibal’s house and in the office with the door closed. Come to think about it, Y/N never knew where Hannibal’s house even was…unless… He tried to ignore that thought but couldn’t.

Y/N would call him first about the case before showing Hannibal. Let alone tell him what the plan was today. He saw Hannibal not even paying attention but staring at her with hungry eyes. He had no doubt that they had slept together and maybe were about to before he came in. Anger and jealousy rose in him and he was going to confront her as soon as they left the house. 

“You slept with him didn’t you?” Was the first words out of Will’s mouth once they were outside Hannibal’s house. Y/N turned to look at him with surprise. Had it been that obvious? “What makes you say that?” She asked him. He shook his head with a scoff, “You so did. You would have straight up said No and you barely show emotions through your face.” She stared at him with a straight face as he ranted. “Why does it matter?” Will couldn’t believe she would even ask that.

He thought that they had something but was proven wrong with this Hannibal situation. “Y/N you can’t be that oblivious.” She knew that Will and her were very close and before Hannibal that was the person she was closest to. “You think he’s using me for something?” Yeah she was that oblivious. “I’m in love with you!” He yells at her and her eyes widen a little. “I love you and I thought that we had something or that was a possibility but you sleep with him? You hated him when you first met him.” This was all true and Y/N couldn’t help but look down at her feet in shame. This wasn’t like her at all and if she was to sleep with anyone it would be Will. She couldn’t believe herself.

“Will I-I don’t know what to say. It’s complicated.” She admits to him and he wants to laugh. He wants to laugh in her face because what was so complicated about it. He shakes his head, “Truth be told Y/N I think he’s the Chesapeake ripper.” He walks away to his car leaving her stunned. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about what Will said to her that night. She went back to being quiet during meetings and investigations and even cut ties with Hannibal. She knew that Will was smart but did she actually believe what he said? Hannibal, a killer? Hannibal was confused by her behavior. Maybe she regretted sleeping with him or maybe Will put things in her head about him. He couldn’t help but think that maybe Will was truly behind this. But she wasn’t speaking to him either. Actually she was avoiding them both.

But for different reasons. Will loves her and maybe she feels the same way back and Hannibal could be the killer that they are looking for. She sat in her bed staring at the pictures of all the bodies that they found. Could Hannibal actually be capable of doing all of this? She thought back to all he was saying about the killer and how he did seem to understand things even though he was a therapist. She reached for her phone and called Will, he answered and she sighed before talking, “So Hannibal’s the Chesapeake ripper.”

[akookminsupporter]

Rewatching AYS for the nth time (lost count by now) I just find it endearing how Jimin and Jungkook always look at each other whenever they experience something (e.g. eat something delicious, see something interesting, etc) then support each other with something they want to do (e.g. eat more, do something), decide together, and check if the other is happy.

The closer we get to their military discharge, the more unhinged/rabid people seem to get. I know this might be unlikely, but 1 to 2 eps of AYS or a Jikook subunit is all I need. If not, a Jikook live would be amazing!

Same! Their instinct to look at each other first, like they’re silently checking in and sharing the moment, is just so endearing. It’s one of those little things that make their dynamic feel so natural and effortless. I also love how Jimin kept checking in with Jungkook to see if he was happy or having fun. Even though the show and all the activities were meant for both of them, it’s pretty clear that Jimin picked quite a few with Jungkook specifically in mind.

I was thinking of making a post about how that subgroup of haters seems to be losing it more and more each day. They keep bringing up things from the past—things that are already crystal clear—just to try and deny them or twist the narrative in ways that just aren’t true.

We’ve joked about how we think Jimin and Jungkook will behave once they finish their military service, and how they’ll act like they did post-Japan but on steroids. But, being a bit serious about it, if they really do act like that—at least at the beginning—I have no idea what that subgroup will do (and at this point, I’m including Solos from both sides too). It’s actually a little worrying. Even if Jimin and Jungkook don’t come back with post-Japan vibes, it’s pretty much impossible for them not to mention things from their service or stuff that directly involve the other. And honestly? I don’t know how that subgroup will react. I have an idea, of course, but I’m scared it’ll be worse. Like, what will they do? What new hashtag will they trend? Hopefully, Jimin and Jungkook won’t pay them any attention—doesn’t seem like they have in the past, so fingers crossed they keep it that way when they’re back.

You know what would be amazing? A vlog of them in Busan. I still think it’s such a shame they didn’t take Tae’s suggestion to go there for AYS. So, if we’re not getting another season for now, a Busan vlog would be perfect. A multi-part vlog, thank you very much. But honestly, I’d be happy if they just did one long Wlive, the kind Jungkook loves doing. 😂 Maybe not on the day they’re discharged (I still think they’ll get out privately and won’t do a Wlive like Jin and Hobi did, and probably like Tae and Joon will do. They’ll probably just post a message on Weverse, maybe with a photo), but one a few days later would be great.

A song together would be everyone’s dream come true, but I feel like that’s wishing for too much.

At this point, anything would be a gift!

[squidsinashirt]

U must have some amazing stories about your dad u can share! 🤩

I’ve sat on this one for a bit, sorry Anon. Wasn’t intentional but I… just didn’t know how to answer it.

I mean, I get it. He’s Jeff Tracy, right? The Jeff Tracy. I can remember being just a little kid, and going to meet him off coming home from his latest mission. All these huge crowds cheering for him, those amazing rockets, and little me thinking all this, for my dad?

The thing is, everybody has their own stories about him. It’s fascinating, because you’ll hear all these other tales that exist only thanks to other people. Colonel Casey, Captain Taylor, heck even Kip Harris knew him. All these huge figures have got larger than life tales of the incredible things Jeff Tracy did, and was, and inspired. There’s statues and plaques to him, and you can take a tour at the space centre about his missions, and there’s books and movies and documentaries…

There are five incredible machines he dreamt up, standing by to help achieve this fantastical goal of his to help the world. I suppose in a way, you get to snatch a little glimpse of who Jeff Tracy was, and what he believed in, every time one of them appears to save the day. Every time some kid points an excited finger up at Thunderbird Two or squints after a contrail that was Thunderbird One, there he is. That magic, that excitement, that kind of imposing extraordinary that he did so well.

Anyway, to get back on track. People come bounding up to us, to me, and they ask this sort of question all the time, and that’s the thing about being JEFFTRACYSSON (said in one breath at rapid pace, because that’s the way people greet you). I get the curiosity, I really do. I don’t say it with any malice intended, and it’s comforting to know he still has that kind of impact. I’m always happy to talk about him, I promise!

It’s simple to be JEFFTRACYSSON when you pull on an International Rescue uniform. It took a little practice to ease into at first, but it’s perfected now. It’s really easy to talk about how we believe in his dream, how we’ve all taken on that duty in our individual and collective ways. In the importance of iR, in what it means to us as family. Shiny uniform, perfect hair, smile and wave and save some lives 💪🏻

Please don’t read into this in the wrong way - I’m very proud to be Jeff Tracy’s son. It’s actually quite difficult to really put across how strongly I feel about the weight of that title, because it’s pretty sacred (and also a little intimidating at times). Everywhere we go, it’s “oh, you must be Jeff’s boy” or “oh, you’re a Tracy”, and that means there’s instantly an expectation to live up to, both publicly and privately. It’s a privilege, it really is, and I think it’s a kind of sacrosanct commitment that has really been at the centre of my thinking as I’ve gotten older - how to try and be the sort of man that deserves that kind of birthright.

I don’t just mean the public side of being Jeff Tracy’s son. See, behind the scenes, to me, to us as a family, he was every bit human in a very ordinary way.

He made the best Sunday pancakes.

He cheered far too loudly at swim competitions (and teenage me was perpetually mortified by it) and was every bit as encouraging and supportive as you might guess.

He told these excellent, awful dad jokes, always at just the wrong (or right, I suppose) moments that made you groan.

He used to let me drive his old truck up the drive when he came home from a long mission, playing country songs with the window rolled down.

We loved pranking Mom together by hiding in the laundry bin and jumping out like idiots.

He told the most spectacular, far fetched bedtime stories he swore were real, and my brothers and I could never get enough of them.

He was also away for months on end in space, or training, or lost in his plans and ideas and dreams, and sometimes that meant he wasn’t really here with us, even if he was.

He couldn’t do laundry for shit, and he was absolutely useless at trying to run a house with five young sons on his own, and only a military background to lean on for ideas (thanks Grandma and Scott for saving that one).

Being Jeff Tracy’s son is a little more complex than just the uniform, I guess, and because of that I don’t always recognise the Jeff Tracy in the books and the movies, the one that people are so desperate to hear more about.

I think that’s why I find answering questions like this so difficult, and why maybe my answers never land particularly well with the people who ask this. Because the expectation for them is an entire reel of grand tales that haven’t been heard yet out of me. Some heroic, unbelievable stories that reads like the plaques - and then they are always a little disappointed that it turns out all I can say is that he was a real person. Somebody who was very human and very brilliant and very flawed, and who I loved very much. Because to me, he’s my dad.

And ultimately, nobody wants to hear about that. It doesn’t fit their two dimensional, mythical image of him, or my brothers and I for that matter. Us being a fairly regular family doesn’t really inspire the kind of tales that perhaps lend themselves to be told.

(This is the biggest reason I don’t do interviews, because I’d be like you wanna hear about the time he took us on a hiking trip, got us lost in a storm and Mom nearly divorced him because she thought we’d all been eaten by coyotes? No? It’s hilarious, honestly!)

That’s alright, though. Like I said, the movies and the books are there to tell those stories, and Lee Taylor will happily yap your ear off for an hour about their exploits if you want. Dad’s legacy, in that form, is more than secure.

They’re not going to ever be able to tell you about his favourite pancake toppings though, or his favourite song to dance to in the kitchen or his favourite swear word, and there’s the real privilege in getting to be Jeff Tracy’s son. In getting to carry him forward, not just the stories.

…

…

This got a lot deeper than I intended it to go. I’ve had a beer and I rambled. Sorry Anon.

Ahem. Good question! I guess I’m just not the best person to answer it, ironically enough ;)

I guess the best that I can offer is that if you are ever in trouble and call us, just know that there was a really great human being behind the face that made it all possible, who told the worst jokes, but who cared a whole f-ing lot.

*insert generic story here about Dad and a rocket*

[basilone]

I wasn't about to let @blind-dates-fest pass me by, and I'm very excited to get to share this next piece! We're off to a racetrack in Wyoming this time, as we sneak a little peek at Gale Cleven's childhood... and get to know someone new!

It’s one of those slow business days. There’s no big race on today, even though it’s the weekend and there ought to be. It seems to Sally as though the whole of Wyoming is holding its breath for a little while. Waiting for next weekend, when the best horses and finest families will come out for a time on the track. That’s when the season really starts and the money begins to flow.

Well, at least, all of this is according to Mister Danvers from the ticketing booth. Sally doesn’t put a whole lot of stock in the opinion of a man who doesn’t know the difference between a cravat and a bow tie, especially not after he’d said Sally wouldn’t have to add any big numbers because hot dogs are cheap. But then Erica Post of the Post Winery had said the same, minus the snippy comment about Sally’s hot dogs, and so had Susan Rugatti, with the additional comment that Sally’s hair needs fixing.

There’s nothing wrong with her hair.

Sally puffs an exhale and swipes her unruly fringe off her forehead as she takes stock of her stand. Lunch rush has come and gone, insofar as one can call it a rush when it’s just fifteen people and three screaming kids, and the time of afternoon snacks isn’t quite reality yet. If she hurries just a little more than she is right now, she could finish that chapter on how to set broken bones and get a head’s start on next week’s studying.

She could do all of that, even though Miss Audrey’s currently gliding over to her stand with all the air of the faux French aristocracy in her countenance. She’s guiding a young boy not older than ten or eleven by the shoulder. Leaning on the kid, actually, as though she’s quite concerned he’s going to bolt sooner rather than later.

“Good afternoon, Miss Audrey!”

“Sally, ma chérie,” booms the woman, heavily-lidded eyes sparkling with good humor, “you are like an angel’s appearance to me!”

Sally can’t help but laugh at such nonsense. Miss Audrey’s always complimentary like that, often making a whole lot of hubbub about something. She works with hats and hair and harlots, darling – Miss Audrey’s words, not Sally’s – and is to the Wyoming racetrack as the President is to the White House.

“You flatter me,” she says, smiling as the woman draws close to her stand. “How’re the girls? And business?”

“One and the same, one and the same,” waves Miss Audrey, rolling her eyes for good measure. “They ought to be ashamed of themselves for putting us up in that tent right there. I told Mister Barbieri that I can’t cut hair like that, and oh Sally what that awful man told me next cannot be repeated in polite company...”

“They’re expecting some gusts of wind to roll in on Wednesday. You’ll be out of your tent by next weekend, then,” winks Sally, knowing everyone on the track would help foil Mister Barbieri’s best-laid plans any day of the week even though he owns the place. One tent won’t be a match for that kind of determination. “You got any clients coming in today, Miss Audrey?”

“Sure do. Next week’s gonna be a big hubbub, but can’t complain about today neither. I told the little mister here that we’re always happy to see him, but he shouldn’t stick around too long this time.”

Sally gives the kid a quick once-over. “Good of you,” she says, taking in the boy’s small shuffle and his apparent refusal to so much as look at her. “He ain’t one of yours, I know that much”– it’s just Miss Audrey’s Lola who’s got a kid, and that one’s as dark as this one’s fair –“so who’s the kid, anyway?”

“I’m not a kid!” says the boy, before Miss Audrey can even open her mouth to answer for him. His rather fierce glare flashes up at her from beneath his tousled blond hair. “My name is Gale”– there’s demand in the emphasis, a don’t you dare call me otherwise lurking in his tone –“and I’m nine!”

Sally only just manages to hide the largest portion of her smile. “Nice to meet ya, Mister Gale,” she says, resting her chin on her hand as she makes a show of studying him. Collar on a too-neat shirt tugged a little askew, trousers that have been patched up at least twice, some scrapes on his knuckles, and a pair of battered-looking shoes. “My name’s Sally,” she offers, “and I’m nineteen.”

The kid – Gale – nods at her with the tiniest incline of his head. He didn’t object to being called mister, which should not feel like a won battle as much as it does right now. It’s kid he’s got problems with, then, and Sally can hardly blame him for that.

“Gale hasn’t yet had lunch. Or breakfast.” Miss Audrey manages to make it sound like an everyday sort of thing to be told at three in the afternoon, even though her mouth does that funny little disapproving thing that Sally’s never quite been able to mimic. “We had no idea about that until Candy heard that belly rumble, lemme tell ya that!”

Hides hunger, thinks Sally, already busying her hands with a warm bun and a knife. Miss Audrey lets him sit with her girls. A quiet kid, then, if even hard-shelled Candy manages to look out for him. She’s seen the like of him before, usually lurking in a group of rowdier kids, eyes roving everywhere but mouth refusing to show weakness.

“What d’ya want on your hot dogs, Gale?” she asks, making a show of adding one very hot sausage to the bun. “I’m getting two for you and one for me. Mine’s gonna have a whole lot of mustard and some red onions. And you look like the kinda man who knows exactly what to put on his.”

She’s not sure if it’s her wink or the promise of food that’s got him stepping out of Miss Audrey’s shadow. “D’you have ketchup, Miss Sally?” he wonders, blue eyes going wide as she nods in reply. “A-And… uh… I want cheese on one of them.”

“So that’s one ketchup dog and one ketchup-and-cheese dog?” she checks, showing him exactly what she’s doing to make his food. “Yeah?” She laughs as his nod turns rather vigorous. “All right, Mister Gale, I’m gonna add the ketchup now and I’m gonna need you to tell me stop, okay?”

“Okay!”

“I’ll leave you both to it, Sal,” says Miss Audrey, patting a few crisp dollars into Sally’s apron’s pocket that Sally already knows better than to protest against. Her multi-ringed hand ruffles Gale’s hair as his first stop! rings out. “Enjoy your late lunch, and be good to Miss Sally.”

“Yes ma’am,” nods Gale, fingers already carefully rearranging his hair and smoothing its back while he leans over to see the ketchup progress on the second hot dog. “Stop! More cheese than ketchup, please,” he directs, sounding very sure of himself indeed. “They’re better with cheese.”

“D’you want cheese on both? You can, you know, it’s no trouble. Look,” she says, slightly overdoing it on the mustard for hers, “you can get as much as you want on these. Not a lot o’ people have been wanting cheese today, so you’re extra lucky!”

“Only if it’s no trouble…”

“None,” she smiles, putting more cheese than ketchup on both of his. “Now, c’mere, grab yourself a plate,” she directs, “and – oh, thank you!” She blinks in surprise as he holds another plate out to her. “That’s gonna make these onions a little easier to eat. They would’ve spilled all over my apron like yesterday otherwise!”

His you’re welcome, miss is rather soft-voiced. Almost shy, really, in comparison to some of the more loudly demanding nine-year-olds she’s seen out and about at the track. He’s got that look about him of someone who’s going to grow tall – all limbs and careful posture – even though he just sat down and made himself small as can be.

Sally brushes her apron and skirt down. Settles on the grass just outside her hot dog stand, next to her small pile of books and notes. Folds herself around her plate the same way Gale does – arm around it to shield it from view, hunched over the food just to be sure nobody takes it – and tucks into her own food with no small degree of relish.

“Oh, that’s the ticket,” she sighs, having only had a single coffee and an orange early this morning before she was almost late for her bus. She smiles as she peers up at the kid, who’s practically wolfing his food down. “You like ’em, Gale?”

His nod is accompanied by him licking his fingers clean and wiping them on his trousers. Sally finds she’s learning fast the longer she studies him. He’s somebody’s kid all right, because his clothes got patched up and he’s got manners some of the orphan kids don’t. Nobody objects to him spending time with Miss Audrey’s girls, even though Miss Audrey’s girls are scantily clad loudmouths who rake in more cash in two hours than Sally does in a week’s work.

“Does your daddy know how to find you?” she asks, deducing several things just from watching him polish his plate clean. “Is he expectin’ you at Miss Audrey’s?”

There it is. The small freeze. That little line to his shoulders that goes rigid and defensive all at once. “I know where to find him,” says Gale, biting the words out like the very syllables have their hackles raised at her. “It’s not time yet.”

“All right,” she agrees, setting her plate aside and leaning back a little. “You tell me when it’s time now. There’s a big clock out on th–”

“The pavilion.” His hands are a flurry of motion, dragging a chewed-on pencil and rather battered little notepad out of his shirt pocket. He doesn’t look at her. Flips the notepad open and sets his pencil to paper instead. “I been here before, you know.”

Sally almost winces at his tone. “All right, Buckaroo,” she sighs, propping her own book up on her knees, perfectly aware that she’s conceding defeat to a rather headstrong nine-year-old. She smiles as she catches his tiny grimace at the nickname. Gotcha, kid. “I’m here almost every day in summer. So are the hot dogs.”

She’s not surprised when he stays silent. Kids like him often do when something starts to sound too much like an invitation or expectation. It’s what she would’ve done, too, back in the time her mother was dreaming about winning big money instead of buying something to put on the dinner table.

Nine-year-old Sally would’ve killed for a hot dog.

“And your homework.”

Sally blinks away her furious stare at the differences between fibula and tibia. “Sorry,” she says, attempting to smile, “what was that?”

Gale’s half-moon smile flickers up at her. “Your homework, Miss. That’s here too.”

“So’s yours, by the look of that,” she nods, indicating his notes.

“It’s just some stuff.”

“Some stuff, huh? Me, I’m learning about bones.” Sally raises her book to show him, seeing how his arm has already come up to curl around his notepad to shield it from view. “See? I need to learn how to help fix them when they’re broken. So I need to learn what they look like when they’re normal, first.”

Gale peers at the pages more closely than she’d have imagined him to do. “That’s Latin.”

“A little! The bone names are like that,” she agrees, nodding, “and I think it makes them sound as important as they are. D’you know Latin?”

He shrugs. “Only if it’s got to do with calculating things. Like ad infinitum means that the operation is to be carried out endlessly.” His nose wrinkles a little at his explanation. “Infinity’s still really tricky, though, so I’m trying to work on limits rather than infinitesmals right now. I think infinity’s one of those things I’ll know once I’m as old as you.”

“Yeah?” Sally grins at him over the top of her book. “Are you going to be a scientist, then, Buckaroo?”

“No, I’m going to be a pilot! And they have to do loads of math!” He doesn’t grimace at the nickname this time. Scoots closer until he’s seated beside her, even, just so he can show her a sliver of his notepad that’s filled up with numbers and crude little graphs. “I’m practicin’ heaps of it.”

“Getting a good start!”

Gale nods vigorously. “I’m gonna be the bestest pilot ever, Miss Sally.”

“Yes, you are,” she agrees as his knee knocks against hers. “I’m gonna be a good nurse, too. It’s all in the work.”

“You’re gonna be the bestest.”

“Not if I don’t know the difference between a fibula and a tibia,” she snorts, tapping the page. “Just like you won’t be a pilot unless you know fancy things like trajectories and calculus. But we’re gonna learn all of that just fine out here.”

And may the good Lord please stop your daddy from clipping your wings before you got a chance to fly.

[oh-phoenixx]

"Euphemia Potter" - @into-the-jeggyverse - 543 words

@abductedhiko

-

When Regulus moved in with the Potters, he spent most of his time hidden in his room. He feared that if he said one wrong thing, they would throw him out. Any small slip-up was worthy of punishment in his parents’ eyes. They were obligated to let him stay, especially after Sirius had run away and Regulus was the only heir. People would start asking questions if both of the brothers were disowned. Regardless, Regulus had followed Sirius, as he always would.

Currently, Regulus was curled up in his bed reading, still trying to make himself small, even in his own room. The only place that Regulus had ever felt was his was his dorm at Hogwarts, which he shared with Evan and Barty. He would never tell them, but it was the place he felt most comfortable. Now, in this room, he worried he took up too much space. He tucked himself into the corners of rooms, not wanting to invade these people’s lives. But he felt he had done so already.

There was a soft knock on his door. “Come in,” Regulus said.

Euphemia opened the door carefully, looking around the room for a moment. Regulus hadn’t really unpacked or decorated. This all felt too good to be true, as though at any moment they were going to laugh in his face and send him right back home.

“Hi, sweetheart. I just wanted to check on you. We’ve barely heard from you.” Euphemia sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Oh, um. Sorry,” Regulus mumbled.

“No need to apologise,” Euphemia said with a smile, so kind that Regulus almost felt pained by it. “James and Sirius are a little worried, is all.” Regulus furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at this, but didn’t say anything in response.

“We’re all very happy that you’re here, cariño” she continued. “Sirius spoke so much of you before you arrived. Always so nervous about you being in that house. He might not say as much, but he is so proud of you. We all are.”

Regulus didn’t feel that he had done anything to be proud of. He had continued to live with his mother and father for over a year after his brother left. Did that not mean he sympathised with them? Did his reluctance to leave not make him just like them? Unwilling to voice his thoughts, he once again did not reply.

“James talks about you just as much as Sirius,” Euphemia informed him, a playful glint in her eye. “Every time he calls us he has something new to tell us about you.”

“He- What?”

“You really believe that my son doesn’t reciprocate your feelings?” She near-giggled at this, as though the thought of James not liking Regulus was not even a possibility. 

“I don’t- He doesn’t-”

Euphemia held up her hands in surrender, standing up from the bed. Regulus continued to try to defend himself from these absurd allegations, but Euphemia just fixed him with another sickeningly warm smile, so similar, if not identical, to James’s. Regulus calmed slightly, looking down at his book to avoid her knowing eyes. 

“Tell me if you need anything, corazón.” Euphemia closed the door, leaving Regulus still stunned. 

That night, Regulus started to unpack.

[atimeofyourlife]

My place, your place, our place

@bucktommyfluffebruary day 9: moving in together | rated: g | wc: 666 | ao3 Buck gets ready to leave the loft for the final time

It had been a long day. Week. Weeks. For such a small space, the loft had been something of a nightmare to pack up for the move. All of his belongings seemed to multiply, needing far more boxes to pack everything into than he had been expecting. Every time he had thought he was done with an area, he would turn around and find more stuff to pack.

He could have sworn it hadn't been that difficult to move in, but then he remembered it was very different circumstances. He'd never had a place of his own before the loft. Hadn't really had stable housing from when he'd left home. Years of being on the road, sometimes in the jeep, sometimes in a motel, or in a house share with people he didn't know. Occasionally in provided accommodation like when he worked on the ranch, or when he tried out for the SEALs. It taught him to live light, consolidating most of his belongings into a pair of gym bags. Even for his first years in LA, first in the frat house with Connor and the guys, then Abby's place. Then crashing on Chimney's couch before moving on to Maddie's place. It never made sense to have much stuff.

But the loft was his space. He didn't need to be so strict about living light. He could buy things just because and not have to worry about it taking up space. He could do what he wanted to make the space feel like home.

Now, everything was boxed up. Most of it had already been moved to Tommy's, now their, place. Just the last few boxes to take out, before doing the final sweep. And final final sweep. Then it would be time for him to turn in his keys at the leasing office. And that would be the chapter of his life at the loft over.

It was kind of bittersweet. Giving up the first place he'd been able to call his own. Leaving behind the place where so many memories had been made over six years he'd lived there. Some good, some bad, some just neutral. A space where he'd fallen in and out of love. Where he'd recovered from the worst injuries the job could throw at him. Where he'd watched Jee grow up, one babysitting session at a time. A place that had seen just about every emotion he could ever experience, happiness, anger, depression, joy, fear.

He and Tommy did the final walk through together, checking every closet, every shelf. Every nook and cranny for anything he might have missed. Closing the door for the last time felt far heavier than it should.

"Are you okay?" Tommy asked as Buck locked up.

"Yeah. It's just. I'm gonna miss this place." Buck replied. "This is the longest I've live somewhere since the house I grew up in."

"You did make a lot of memories here. We made a lot of memories here."

Tommy coming over to clear the air about Eddie, then making a move on Buck, completely turning his worldview on it's head. Eddie telling Buck to call Tommy after that disastrous first date. Bringing him home after Maddie and Chimney's wedding, Tommy being half asleep against his shoulder still in his turnouts. So many dates. Tommy staying to take care of him after he dislocated his shoulder. The break up. Tommy coming over to apologize only for it to turn into them shouting at each other, getting out all of the pent up emotions, followed by them sitting down and having an actual adult talk about everything, and deciding to try again, slower this time. The first 'I love you'. Tommy asking him to move into his place when he saw the letter that had come through about renewing the lease.

"We did. Let's go make even more in our house." Buck held his hand out to Tommy and they walked away from the loft together for the final time.

[wanderingblindly]

curious about your reasoning behind making landoscar 32/33 in prospective aspect vs 25/26 in future past if you’re willing to share!!

(prospective aspect snippet)

Always happy to chit chat!!!!!

It was kind of a multi-step decision. First of all, I wanted prospective aspect to be really different from future past, despite both being the same trope. There were going to be obvious differences based on the fact that irl Oscar knew of Lando well before Lando knew him -- so that would carry over to the fic -- but it needed something more.

Part of what drove future past in an understated sort of way was the proximity between past and current Lando. They were both in F1, they were only a few years apart in age; Lando could probably still remember everything his younger self went through with a great deal of clarity, because he's still so deeply similar to him -- there are just small changes that have made him better, happier.

So the logical step was widening that gap and making younger Oscar significantly more distanced from current Oscar -- meaning upping the age gap and making sure Oscar hadn't reached F1 yet.

My goal there was to create this sort of... weird tension between the two of them. I can't imagine many people in their thirties that would love to see themselves at 18, you know? Snippy and snarky and impulsive and not quite them anymore.

So, in short, it's because I wanted to create a totally different story from future past.

Here's an unedited snippet showing why the age matters, maybe!!

Prospective Aspect

Lando scoots to the very edge of the bed and grabs the boy's hair, pulling him forward firmly. "You should start shaving the sides aga–"

"No." Oscar cuts him off, shuffling to sit on the outside of Lando's knees – letting him box the boy between his beautiful thighs. He'll like it that way, feeling the warmth and strength squeezing his shoulders. "Now tell him what you want, Lando."

"Open your mouth," Lando tightens his grip, pulling his mouth closer to his cock – obscenely large compared to his younger self's swollen lips.

"Christ," Oscar mumbles to himself, unable to look away – unable to do what he knows he'll manage in a few seconds. All he can see is the boy adjusting himself on his knees, rising up a little taller to try and catch the head of Lando's cock against his lips, blinking up reverently.

Carefully, uncertainly, he opens his mouth, sticks out his tongue – looking up at Lando with those wide, watery eyes.

It looks like he's about to receive something holy, knelt before his savior.

A shudder runs down Oscar's spine, snapped back to attention as Lando grabs the base of his cock and guides it into the boy's mouth with a quiet "Good boy".

It's his turn, he remembers that much.

Reaching over Lando's thigh, he cups his past self's jaw, fingers pressing into the hinges. "Open wider, tongue flat."

[icecoldbeauty]

Well that just makes the scene even more confusing, don't it? Almost feel bad for the boy, must've been so confused, I know I'd have been! And I agree, really. The world could use a little more happiness in it as a whole, it feels so dreary these days, like less people are smiling than they used to. Unfortunately business people like that do make it a challenge sometimes! That's pretty much why I quit the League. All of that draining and soulless business work wore on me so much harder when professional battling was already beginning to stop feeling fulfilling. Day in and day out- spend all of it battling, and when not doing that, put up with all the business nonsense instead. I'd already spent roughly two decades doing that- couldn't let the rest of my life be wasted that way too when there was more I wanted to do, and I was only going to be young for so much longer. So I up and left. I think it would've been even more soul crushing and harder to leave if I ever had gone for champion, so I'm glad I didn't. Really, more people should stop and think it through a little harder before that kind of a decision. It's not the all that and then some that society will try and make it seem- especially to women. You've no idea how annoying it is telling people about that decision and then them trying to convince you to reconsider, or saying you'll change your mind someday, or acting as if you're wrong and lesser for it. I've long since stopped talking to all the people that ever acted that way toward me about it and haven't felt a twinge of regret, change my mind once, or felt less of a woman for it, so goes to show what they know. I don't think you should worry too hard about it, though. You're still young, you'll have plenty of time down the road before you need to sit down and think over this kind of thing and make that decision. Got a lot of life ahead of you, you shouldn't rush it that much! Enjoying your youth is important, Arc knows I wish I hadn't wasted as much of mine as I did. And of course, correct that guess would be! I've only ever trained one Pokemon that isn't Ice-type, but I'm convinced that only a crazy person would say no to a goofy little Slowpoke crawling up to you wanting to be your friend. I never quite got around to visiting Galar- I'd have loved to meet Melony. I've made friends with just about every Ice-specialist on my travels! Suppose maybe someday still, I'm not totally decrepit yet after all! Galar's one of the only regions I've heard of without an Elite Four, which I do find somewhat fascinating. A lot of the champions workload beyond battle would rather frequently get shared between us, pretty much anything that it wasn't crucial he specifically tended to. Since we were also very prominent figures for the region I suppose it made sense to have us help out. Stressful just imagining having to take on the full amount of that solo instead of just helping with parts of it sometimes...

Oh yeah wait you're too old to know what inkay games is my bad

Oh, please, I’m only twenty-three.

[ he’s not old. don’t make that mistake again. ]

—💎

[t1meslayer]

hey! i’ve been reading a handful of ur fanfics (which r rlly gud btw!) and i was wondering how you were able to resize and edit the text like this

and also like this

i’d be rlly interested to know because i’m unsure if it’s even possible through normal means on ao3!

Hey hey! I'm very glad you're enjoying my work <3

Thanks so much for taking the time to give me a read!!!

The text editing stuff is actually a basic function on AO3, you can do it too! When you're looking at the text editing/posting page, you'll see at the top that you can utilize "plain text with limited HTML"

Clicking the question mark icon there shows you all of the HTML functions that are available, with a basic explanation for how to apply them in your text:

The TL;DR is when you've picked one you want, you can start that section of text with the HTML signifier in diamond brackets <like this>, and then end that section with diamond brackets using a forward slash </like this>

(Be sure to include the ending set of brackets otherwise you'll accidentally make the entire rest of your story in italics or somethin - not speaking from experience I swear)

However, I found a "story" posted in 2015 that was particularly helpful with visualizing the major elements. It's called "A Complete Guide to 'Limited HTML' on AO3" by CodenameCarrot. In particular, this highlighted stuff like being able to do sub- and superscript text using <sub> and <sup> that I used (I think) to great effect in my Pokemon Scarvi piece "Paradiso" - where a lot of my experimentation happened under the guise of nightmare bs.

The way I made text look almost like the "Chat" option here on Tumblr was through "Special Types of Text."

They all produce the same result when published on AO3, but I personally use <tt>.

I've also been messing with image embedding like the text message thread in "Peaks and Caverns" and my Author's Notes in "Stone-Cold Lovers (ch. 3)," there should be more of that coming in pieces that I'm writing now! I learned a good practice for how to do so from the 2014 piece "Super Awesome Learning How to Embed Place" by leftennant.

Tbh I've been a bit surprised at how many people have asked me about this text editing stuff in my comments, because it's one of the first things I noticed is available compared to, say, fanfiction.net. I like that you can use the basic tools of the service to tailor your stores to a vision in even small ways, so I've even been testing things like pseudo-graphic design like recreating RIAA record plaques using just HTML features on my Splatoon fic "By Moonlight":

Hopefully these explainer pieces can help you out with it too!! They're the only things I currently have bookmarked on my AO3 'cause I refer back to them so often.

[hinamie]

in spite of everything, I had fun <3

[housederiva]

Your art is FANTASTIC and the random observations/polls/interjections you make have really helped to fuel the DA fandom in positive ways! Which it definitely needed after Veilguard's release, lmao. It's always a pleasure to see you on my dashboard!

That's very kind of you to say oh my gosh thank you so much. I'm just bumbling around and every once in a while I say something people think is worth sharing, and I like sharing what other folks feel/make too! I'm glad I'm a not too much of an annoyance xx

I think my favorite thing about having this blog is the notes I see on other peoples posts I rb, it’s nice seeing all sweet things get things sent an artist way or conversations/theories carried on in a rb chain

It’s a big ol show n tell and it’s a wonderful reprieve from my normal day to be able to see other folks stuff too ✨

[cetoddle]

i love the sims 2 community so much. everyone is so respectful and truly kind

[novelconcepts]

i don't make resolutions, but if i did

it would be to finish this fic

(and to be kind to myself for however long it takes to actually do so)