#i project onto little horses yes. and so what

[godtiermageofspace]

You know, as a trans woman who read the books as a child, I've always seen that scene in entirely the opposite way. I've always read Tip as more allegorical for trans femmes, which makes that scene a moment of incredible joy and empowerment.

I've reread it as an adult a few times just because that scene was so formative to me, but it's been a little while so I decided to go back and read through it on Project Gutenburg. It's getting a little long, so I'm putting it under a read more.

“I!” cried Tip, in amazement. “Why, I’m no Princess Ozma—I’m not a girl!” Glinda smiled, and going to Tip she took his small brown hand within her dainty white one. “You are not a girl just now” said she, gently, “because Mombi transformed you into a boy. But you were born a girl, and also a Princess; so you must resume your proper form, that you may become Queen of the Emerald City.”

Okay, not the best start. It does sort of feel like Glinda is championing gender essentialism here. The book was written a hundred and twenty years ago, though, and not steeped in modern arguments about the nature of identity. I think it's really more about her being a monarchist than anything, which is...better? In the context of a fantasy novel, sure.

(Also it's a pretty solid first argument if you're a trans femme inclined to read this as more like wish-fulfillment. Why, you have to be forcefemmed for the good of your country!)

“Oh, let Jinjur be the Queen!” exclaimed Tip, ready to cry. “I want to stay a boy, and travel with the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, and the Woggle-Bug, and Jack—yes! and my friend the Saw-Horse—and the Gump! I don’t want to be a girl!” “Never mind, old chap,” said the Tin Woodman, soothingly; “it don’t hurt to be a girl, I’m told; and we will all remain your faithful friends just the same. And, to be honest with you, I’ve always considered girls nicer than boys.” “They’re just as nice, anyway,” added the Scarecrow, patting Tip affectionately upon the head. “And they are equally good students,” proclaimed the Woggle-Bug. “I should like to become your tutor, when you are transformed into a girl again.” “But—see here!” said Jack Pumpkinhead, with a gasp: “if you become a girl, you can’t be my dear father any more!” “No,” answered Tip, laughing in spite of his anxiety. “and I shall not be sorry to escape the relationship.”

It's definitely not great that all his traveling companions are piling onto him with reasons why he should go ahead with undoing the transformation. Honestly, though, I think this reads more as a continuation of (or a foil to) the General Jinjur plotline, which is a lot funnier if you read the book knowing that Frank L. Baum's mother-in-law was one of the foremost suffragists on the east coast at the time, who was also his editor. And he lived with her. Also note that Tip's words at the end are because he's spent the book a little uncomfortable that Jack Pumpkinhead follows him around calling him 'Father.' Another potential point on the scale for egg Tip, if that's something you're inclined to be looking for.

Then he added, hesitatingly, as he turned to Glinda: “I might try it for awhile,-just to see how it seems, you know. But if I don’t like being a girl you must promise to change me into a boy again.” “Really,” said the Sorceress, “that is beyond my magic. I never deal in transformations, for they are not honest, and no respectable sorceress likes to make things appear to be what they are not. Only unscrupulous witches use the art, and therefore I must ask Mombi to effect your release from her charm, and restore you to your proper form. It will be the last opportunity she will have to practice magic.” Now that the truth about Princes Ozma had been discovered, Mombi did not care what became of Tip; but she feared Glinda’s anger, and the boy generously promised to provide for Mombi in her old age if he became the ruler of the Emerald City. So the Witch consented to effect the transformation, and preparations for the event were at once made.

I feel like this may be the key moment to determine if you read Tip as being forced into this against his will vs. given a good reason to allow it and having his fears put at ease. As a kid, I obviously read Tip's line here as not a grudging admission at all, more as an effort not to seem too eager, but that's definitely affected by how I would have responded to being in this situation.

Unfortunately, I don't think the text supports that as well as I would like it to? Taken at face value, it seems more like he's legitimately uncertain but is willing to give it a try.

Glinda's response, however, is probably the most objectionable point here. I think I've always unconsciously softened it a bit when I read it. In all fairness, Tip doesn't object further to this despite saying that his previous agreement was conditional, but then again how much can we really expect an eight year old to go against the word of the most powerful sorceress in Oz, who is also the commander of the only functional military in the setting as well? Glinda's wording isn't completely airtight, but it does seem like she's giving an ultimatum here; Mombi will make the antidote, Tip will take it, and Mombi will be relieved of her magic. There won't be an opportunity for Tip to ask for the transformation to be reapplied if he doesn't like it.

Glinda ordered her own royal couch to be placed in the center of the tent. It was piled high with cushions covered with rose-colored silk, and from a golden railing above hung many folds of pink gossamer, completely concealing the interior of the couch. The first act of the Witch was to make the boy drink a potion which quickly sent him into a deep and dreamless sleep. Then the Tin Woodman and the Woggle-Bug bore him gently to the couch, placed him upon the soft cushions, and drew the gossamer hangings to shut him from all earthly view.

None of this is particularly relevant, but god, the pink and gold bed with the canopy of pink gossamer is just laser targeted at little eight or nine -year old baby egg me secretly wanting to be a princess.

The Witch squatted upon the ground and kindled a tiny fire of dried herbs, which she drew from her bosom. When the blaze shot up and burned clearly old Mombi scattered a handful of magical powder over the fire, which straightway gave off a rich violet vapor, filling all the tent with its fragrance and forcing the Saw-Horse to sneeze—although he had been warned to keep quiet. Then, while the others watched her curiously, the hag chanted a rhythmical verse in words which no one understood, and bent her lean body seven times back and forth over the fire. And now the incantation seemed complete, for the Witch stood upright and cried the one word “Yeowa!” in a loud voice. The vapor floated away; the atmosphere became, clear again; a whiff of fresh air filled the tent, and the pink curtains of the couch trembled slightly, as if stirred from within. Glinda walked to the canopy and parted the silken hangings. Then she bent over the cushions, reached out her hand, and from the couch arose the form of a young girl, fresh and beautiful as a May morning. Her eyes sparkled as two diamonds, and her lips were tinted like a tourmaline. All adown her back floated tresses of ruddy gold, with a slender jeweled circlet confining them at the brow. Her robes of silken gauze floated around her like a cloud, and dainty satin slippers shod her feet.

Once again, I cannot overstate how formative this scene was to me as a little eight-ish -year-old child. It's basically a classic 'girl just like you discovers she's actually a princess' fairy tail tailored directly to trans femmes.

Also, interestingly, despite Glinda's words previously, she doesn't seem to immediately be concerned with removing Mombi's magic, which I think is part of why I have always been able to read the scene as her following Tip's request to go back if they decided they wanted it. Maybe that wouldn't have proven true and Glinda wouldn't have allowed Mombi to redo the transformation if Ozma actually came out of the bed complaining, but since that didn't happen, we can pretend whichever way we like.

At this exquisite vision Tip’s old comrades stared in wonder for the space of a full minute, and then every head bent low in honest admiration of the lovely Princess Ozma. The girl herself cast one look into Glinda’s bright face, which glowed with pleasure and satisfaction, and then turned upon the others. Speaking the words with sweet diffidence, she said: “I hope none of you will care less for me than you did before. I’m just the same Tip, you know; only—only—” “Only you’re different!” said the Pumpkinhead; and everyone thought it was the wisest speech he had ever made.

I mean come on. How can anyone possibly read this in the modern day and not take it as an allegory for a transition? Obviously, Frank L. Baum was absolutely not trying to write a trans fairy tale here. I think he was more trying to write about how it didn't matter if you were a little boy or a little girl, that everyone was the same deep down and all that. He just really didn't know how to write little girls. Hence him also accidentally writing Dorothy and Ozma as girlfriends later on down the line.

In conclusion: yes, looking at the evidence, I think Ozma was kind of forcefemmed, but at the same time I don't think there's much evidence that they were upset about it after the fact. Additionally, I am far more interested in seeing a retelling of the Oz stories that focus around Dorothy's magical trans lesbian girlfriend, because I don't think I've ever actually seen that interpretation of the character in retellings. Interestingly, I think the angst over the whole forcefemming thing does come up in the second or third Wicked novel. I haven't read it, though.

Enough about Wicked. When is someone going to write an Oz spinoff exploring Tip/Ozma's feelings about getting forcefemmed.

[robynbairds]

Somebody's ponytober said the fifth is Knitted, and I had an idea

The context here is that Luna picks up every single hobby that looks at her wrong, and she will be especially fond of it if it is possible to combine with her other little obsessions. This time it's knitting and Nightmare Night.

(For clarity: Tia doesn't like Nightmare Night for reasons, so she gets a hooded sweater that's more Heartswarmin' Day-like)

Now, should I have saved the tober list to SOMEWHERE? Yes, yes I should have. Did I do that? Well, you see, it ain't all that simplegets shot with an arrow

[sentientcave]

Wildflowers and Honey

IT'S WIP WEDNESDAY BAYBEEE and you know what that means! It means I've ignored the projects I planned on working on and started working on a semi-historical omegaverse fic instead. Because I haven't written one before I obviously had to make it extra difficult on myself by making it a low-key Western. No blockers for scents or heats we are just out here rawdogging life.

We can blame this on @dragonnarrative-writes tbh, making me want to write omegaverse. But we're HERE now and we're having FUN with it. As per usual the "reader" is an OC.

You hum noncommittally, tugging your sleeves to make sure you’re as covered as possible. “Are you, um, enjoying living here so far?” you ask, hunting for conversation.

“We sure are,” John says. “It gets better all the time. You ladies want to come in for tea? Ain’t got nothing fancy, no one’s made a habit of callin’ on us yet. We’ll be better prepared next time.”

“We’d love to,” Sarah says cheerfully. “Let me just take Nosy to the pond for a drink.” She unhooks the horse quickly, and leads her away, leaving you standing beside the cart, the four alphas all studying you openly.

“Come on in, then.” John steps in beside you, and gently steers you toward the house, his hand pressed against your lower back. Up close, there’s a warm touch of whiskey in his scent. You clamp down on the instinct to lean in closer. You just have to be polite until Sarah’s satisfied that you’ve met your neighbours. They seem nice enough, but you can’t help but feel like a plump little rabbit surrounded by dogs.

The feeling only intensifies when you step inside. You would expect a building that houses four alphas would be overwhelming, maybe even unpleasant, but you’re hit but a combination of heady scents that make your knees weak. Sourdough bread and sweet fruit and spices, honeysuckle, citrus, that warm tobacco and whiskey that clings to John’s skin, faint traces of leather and wood smoke and spruce and sun-dried cotton. It smells homey.

It’s also surprisingly tidy inside, the floors swept clean, the counters and table scrubbed clean. Kyle pulls a chair out for you, and lifts it right off the ground when he slides it back in. “Sorry,” he says when you squeak, but there’s a laugh in his voice, and you suspect he’s not all that sorry. He’s the one that smells like spices, cloves and cardamom, and sweet peach. Something subtle and slightly bitter underneath, like toasted walnut. He makes a low rumbling sound of approval, like he’s just tasted your scent and thinks it’s just as nice.

Soap tosses the package onto the table and moves a chair closer, spinning it around so he can lean on the back of it, propping his chin on his folded arms. His blue eyes are sharper than John’s, a brighter, more intense blue. “So, Kitty—”

“I’d prefer Miss Haydon,” you say weakly.

“Not very neighbourly of you.” Simon sits across from you, his foot tapping yours. You slide your feet under your chair and out of the way. “Figure we ought to be friendly, eh?”

“Oh stoppit, ye wee big bastart, yer scarin’ the poor lass. Put yer eyes away.” Soap reaches over and tilts the brim of Simon’s hat down over his eyes, then looks at you with all the bearing of a large, silly dog that wants praise for doing a good job. “So, Kitty,” he continues, like he hadn’t been corrected before. “D’ye need any help around yer farm? We’re almos’ done our big work for the season, except the big drive down to Helena for market. Happy to help oot where we can.”

“Oh, I don’t think my daddy’s gonna want your help,” you say quickly. “It’s a very kind offer, but he won’t abide other alphas in his territory.”

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[jiminsass-istant]

IT'S NOT ABOUT THE HICKEY

This post was triggered by an anon moving around in these spaces trying to explain away the hickey/bite moment as something trivial. I will save my thoughts on the hickey for the end of this post.

First of all, to that anon- Get off your high horse. Not being a shipper doesn't make you superior. You are probably one of those cringey people cancelling queer armies on tw!tter these days. Now readers, sip your drink as you read this short think piece-

OT7 Captains in the fandom bubble:-

I really don't get the superiority complex of so called OT7s who love to live inside this cute little bubble they have created for themselves or as they call it nowadays:- " a curated tl". Cancelling people everyday and actually driving people away from the fandom. Every bio says "multis, solos, shippers dni". What are you afraid of? Little pixels? I have personally followed solo fbs of all members and boy the things I have found! They can get extreme at times, but it takes 2 minutes to fact-check their claims and draw your own conclusion.

I follow wholesome ship pages too, they are a great way to not miss out cute moments between various duos. If you are blocking them out, you'll be swept into whatever the OT7 decide the important interactions are. 🤷

Have y'all watched 'The Social Dilemma' on Netflix? I would actually want all bts fans to give it a watch. A very prominent tech figure admitted that she follows a good number of Tw!tter accounts that disagree with her to ensure that she gets to see all sides and all opinions. When you deliberately 'curate' a timeline to feed only your opinions, to make a 'safe' space that doesn't trigger you, without letting new thoughts penetrate it..THAT! That's the beginning of a cult.

Army is not a cult for defending BTS or for calling out billboard and other big authorities, but army is indeed a cult with the way they move against people within the fandom.

I said what I said.

With a curated 'OT7 captain' timeline, you start internalising things about the artists that the people you follow want to believe:-

1. All true army are OT7 and non shippers. 💫💫

Sure some of them are. But biases exist for a reason, right? If you think people don't run their bias's playlist more than the other 6, you are so deluded. Spotify wrapped'23 was a prime example. With the solo era, the rise of solo fanbases was unavoidable.

2. Your favourites are spotless, impeccable people. 💌💌💌

They are so not. They date, they make mistakes, they hurt people (like we all do). Heck, they might even offend certain groups of people, unknowingly or knowingly. Being ignorant is also a flaw.

3. Everything they say on camera is true.🙊🙊🙊

Everything they say on camera is what they want you to know. As Park Jimin of BTS, as Kim Namjoon of BTS and so on. And yes, your perception of them should be built based on their words alone, but it doesn't mean that you purposefully stay blind in a way that serves your personal projections onto the members. As Jimin once said " please take our words as they are"(Festa 2022). Read between the lines, and you get- "please do not make assumptions about us, please do not project past or future narratives onto us." No matter how much it makes BTS look like a saint, DO NOT paint them as perfect human beings just because they are your idols.

Once you get into the fandom bubble, you start rejecting all opinions that threaten to puncture that perfect bubble. In that process, you end up never getting to know about how some member promotions were horribly managed, how company delayed certain stuff, the obvious company agenda and different business strategies for different members. It's not about victimising members, but calling out the company when they make obvious mistakes. You do not see when hate against a particular member gets aggravated to the point it affects streams and sales.

And musical preference? The way the fandom just collectively decided that if you hate any song except 'ON ft Sia", you are basically an anti. I have no words.. I'll come out and say: I don't like DNA. SORRY JIMIN. Sure it's a great concert song, or maybe at a party, but it's never making it to my down-time personal playlists. Cancel me?

Top Social Artist?

This is my personal opinion. BTS having a huge presence on social media is both a boon and a curse. While it ensures that new fans are made everyday, the bts social media presence is an uncontrolled monster right now. Millions of insta, YT channels- most of them spreading a superficial image of BTS. It's for this reason, there are so many 'fans' out there who just love BTS for the few members and their visuals. I can guarantee you that they don't even know how streaming works, but they'll be sure to have an insta name like "mrs.jeon jungkook". If you made it to this part, I don't need to tell you how certain ships inducted their shippers through these very channels, spreading misinfo about the group dynamics and a completely manipulated idea of the boys, as if it's not real life, but some shitty bl drama.

While the company is obviously doing nothing about this mess, it is YOUR duty to focus on what's important as a fan and participate in projects that plan to counteract this mess. ( Of course only if you have time)

So..what does the hickey have to do with all this?

When you finally grow out of your perfect pure breed OT7 agenda, who considers this group of men a picture perfect family who can do no sin, you'll be ready to view the hickey/bite mark as a normal functioning member of the society who's in touch with reality.

Did I just write "pure breed"..

Let's say the hickey/bite does not actually mean anything intimate in a romantic sense. Sure. Even I think it was probably not an exclusively romantic thing. And this is coming from someone who ships them, but I do not see them as 2 people who are dating each other (because I don't claim to know their personal lives).

An older person biting the neck of a younger person long enough to leave a mark is NOT A NORMAL LEVEL of skinship. For friends, for family, for brothers. And this goes for Korea as well as at a global level. Not only k-jikookers but also k-armies had raised eyebrows when that happened. If you didn't raise your eyebrow at this, you need to go out more, have a social life, hang out with long term friends, idk.

But I'm sure if it was a man and a woman, you would have already declared that they are f@cking.

If you have observed jikook through the years, they have had an abnormal level of skinship that even surpasses skinship within their own group. Reminds me of the Butter photoshoot behind, where JK's hands so naturally slid under JM's crop top, like it was a usual thing. Now if one of them reacted differently or in a goofy way, I'd still brush it under the rug. But what had me scratching my head was the indifference. How close do 2 people have to be, for someone to SEARCH for familiar skin to touch?! Let's not forget how JK always touches JM's neck like a habit, massaging, holding, or just caressing, usually a little inside the collar.

Now if they were a man and a woman, you would have already declared that they are f@cking.

If you don't at the very least, acknowledge that it's an abnormally high level of skinship, and that jikook are at the very least, a highly interdependent, symbiotic, close, 2 souls-1 body entity, the closest duo in bangtan..then you are the delulu here. 🫵

I would advice such anons to stop visiting shipping spaces if you are bringing nothing to the table. (As I always say, opposing views are always welcome as long as you bring receipts and not hate). Maybe spend some time talking to real life people, couples, friends, you know?

[shelbystales]

Ceramic Lessons - Part Eight

Cillian Murphy X Reader - Masterlist

Summary: after much insistence from his sister, Cillian attends a ceramics class with her. To his surprise, he feels a connection to the teacher, you. Will this connection go any further or will it be smashed like a bad ceramic project?

Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Warning: swearing, fluff and mention of drugs

A/n: hey guys! please don’t forget to let me know what you think! Hope you like it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The next day you woke up with no news from Cillian. But still, the day was sunny and warm, a good day to be alive, to stand up from the bed and go live another day, you thought as you stretched watching the view from your bedroom window. 

You got ready to go to your morning jog, enjoying your free time from classes. Not that you don’t like being a teacher. But it’s so good to have some time to yourself. 

As you ran you made your way to the beach to admire the people around. The beach was noisy and filled with people and their dogs. You smiled admiring the simple things, the kids laughed as the dog fetched the ball inside the ocean, the little girl running after her mom, the young playing volleyball and a couple nested close together. You breathed in the ocean breeze and continued your race. 

After quite some time you returned home and took a relaxing shower.

You jumped on the couch with your notebook and began drawing some piece ideas for your next collection until the intercom buzzed. You made your way to it and pressed the button 

“Who 's it?” you asked 

“Me, mon amour!” a familiar voice answered

“Bela?!” you asked happily 

“Yes, now let your sister in!! I’m sweating as a horse out here” she demanded

You quickly allowed her passage inside the building with the click of another button and in a few seconds she was at your door. 

You hugged her tightly “I don't want to let go” you said, your words muffled in her hair. 

“I’m afraid you have too because I need to pee asap. Unless you like me too pee on your floor” she joked 

“No, I'm good,” you said, unhugging her and letting her inside to rush to the bathroom. 

Isabela emerged from the bathroom with a dramatic sigh of relief, and you both settled into the familiar comfort of your living room. She looked around, taking in the sketches scattered on the coffee table.

"Still working on your pottery empire, I see," Isabela teased, settling onto the couch.

You chuckled, joining her. "Always. So, what brings you here? Not that I'm complaining. It's a pleasant surprise."

Isabela flashed a mischievous smile. "Well, my dear, I happen to be in town for a few days. Work-related stuff. And I thought, why not drop by and check on my favorite sister?"

You grinned. "Lucky me."

Isabela shared more details about her recent adventures in Paris, the bustling fashion scene, and the eccentric characters she had encountered in the city of love. As she told you her stories, you fetched her some water and some snacks.

As you listened to her animated stories, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for your sister's accomplishments. 

Isabela's vibrant energy filled the room, a stark contrast from you. 

Isabela, with her flamboyant personality and penchant for drama, was like a burst of color in a room, drawing attention effortlessly. Her stories of high-fashion escapades and eccentric characters filled the air with an infectious enthusiasm. She possessed an outward, effervescent charm that charmed everyone around her.

You, on the other hand, were the quiet force, absorbing the energy around you and channeling it into your art. Your introspective nature allowed you to delve deep into your creative process, finding inspiration in the subtle nuances of everyday life. But you were not entirely introverted, you are not shy or anything like it. On the contraire, you like being around people and socializing, but maybe after many years in therapy you learned to love yourself to a point where you prefer your company over anyone else’s. 

While Isabela sparkled like a firework, you were the steady glow of a candle, radiating warmth and depth.

"But how long are you planning to stay?" you asked randomly as Isabela finished a story about peacocks. You loved your sister, but sometimes she was too much for you, so staying too long with her could be a challenge.

"Jesus. Already kicking me out, sis? I can go stay with mom and dad," she said, her mouth full of peanuts.

"I wasn't kicking you out. I just have to plan," you shrugged.

"Right, I don't know. I think I’ll leave Thursday, so... four days," she counted on her fingers. "Can you house me for four days?"

"Of course," you smiled.

"And how is life here? How are your classes going?" she asked with a gentle glare.

"All good. All are filled. I don't have any more free spots," you shared, your gaze drifting to the sketches scattered on the table. "I've been caught up with my pottery classes, and I must admit I love it. But I’ve been taking some projects aside. I am currently making some pieces for a new hotel."

“Uh, that's fancy! And oh my god, it's incredible to not have any empty spots! I’m so proud,” she declared, making you smile genuinely.Isabela leaned in, genuine curiosity in her eyes. "Tell me more about your life here. Any exciting developments, intriguing characters, or perhaps a dirty romance?"

You chuckled at her dramatic flair. "No dirty romance, Bela.It's not as exciting as your Parisian escapades. Just the usual pottery classes and some interesting students."

She raised an eyebrow. "Interesting students, you say? Anyone caught your eye? A man perhaps?"

“How do you do that?” you asked.

“Do what?” she asked, confused.

“Read between the lines,” you asked curiously. She shrugged and drank her water. “Oooh,” your mouthed, connecting the dots. “Mom told you.”

“She did. Now tell me, how is he? Is he really that nice? Can a Hollywood star be nice?” she shifted on her spot.

“Cillian is great, he’s nice,” you smiled.

“Oh, come on, give me more! Do I have to beg?" she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Fine, fine.. He's down-to-earth, genuine, and surprisingly humble. Fame hasn't gone to his head, as far as i’ve seen. He's been through a lot, dealing with his ex-wife and son, but he's handling it with grace. And he seems like a great dad."

Isabela leaned back, processing the information. "Well, color me impressed, sis. You've managed to snag yourself a celebrity. I can't wait to meet him. But spill the details, sis! What's he like when the cameras are off? How’ve met?"

You leaned in conspiratorially. "He's just like anyone else. We met in class, his sister is my student. she constantly spoke about him, until one day she brought him in. He has gorgeous eyes and smells great. We've had dinner dates, beach dates.. three dates at total. No drama aside from his ex."

“That she is a crazy one, right?” Isabela interrupted with a smirk as you looked at her puzzled. “Oh come on, when mom told me who you were dating, I had to google!”

You frowned at her. “Really, what did you find?”

“Oh god, you never googled him?” she asked, shocked.

“Didn't want to invade his privacy, or know more than I should. I'd rather learn about him from himself.”

She rolled her eyes. “For fuck's sake, that's so you... well, for your knowledge, I didn't find much. He has done an incredible job at keeping his life to himself. BUT, I can't say the same about her. Do you wanna see her Instagram? It's a crazy person’s Instagram,” she said, already picking up her phone and showing it to you.

You hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, curiosity getting the better of you. Isabela handed you her phone, displaying a colorful and chaotic Instagram profile.

"There she is," Isabela pointed at a picture of Cillian's ex-wife, her feed filled with flashy and attention-grabbing posts. You scrolled through, feeling a mix of surprise and unease.

"Wow, she really puts everything out there, doesn't she?" you commented, slightly taken aback by a seminude picture with ‘DREAM OF ME’ written on her chest.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort seeing such a public display of someone who played a significant role in Cillian's past. You handed Isabela's phone back.

Isabela laughed, "Oh, you have no idea. She's like a whole reality show in one person. her Storys are unique and the captions! ‘you know you want me’ or ‘anybody ready for a good time?’ “ she mocked as she read, making you feel embarrassed for her. “You'd think she's a problematic  influencer, not someone's ex-wife… not someone’s mom. I bet in a few months she will create an OnlyFans account"

“For real?”

“Yes, look at her” she showed you the phone again

"Well, she certainly knows how to make a statement," you said, still processing what you had just seen.

Isabela shrugged, her eyes fixed on the screen "Cillian made a wise choice moving on,” she remarked casually, her tone carrying a hint of nonchalance.

You silently agreed, wondering if she was always the same character she seemed to be today.

The conversation sort of ended, and you helped your sister settle into your guest bedroom, all while continuing your discussion.

She had some work to do on her computer, and later that day, you both found yourselves sitting together on the couch, debating over what to eat and what to watch. The various food options displayed on the screen made the decision a tough one.

Just as you were about to settle on a choice, your phone buzzed, and Cillian's name lit up the screen. Isabela's eyes widened with excitement. "Oh, look who it is!” she almost screamed.

A warm smile spread across your face, and you accepted the call. "Hey, you," you greeted.

"Hey there," Cillian's voice echoed through the phone.

"Hi! Perfect timing. We were just trying to decide on dinner," Isabela yelled to your ear, making you quickly stand from the couch and walk inside your bedroom for some privacy.

“Who was that?” Cillian asked after giving a prolonged laugh.

“My sister,” you answered, closing the door and jumping onto your bed.

“Oh, I can call you another time,” he suggested.

“No, it 's ok. How are you?”

“Good, relaxed. Had a good day. You?” he sighed as if he was sitting down.

“Me too. Normal day. My sister surprised me with her visit.”

“You don't sound so happy about that,” he chuckled.

“No, don't get me wrong. I love her so much... but she is too much for my ears to handle all day long. And she is staying until Thursday,” you explained.

“Is she the one that lives in Paris?”

“The one and only.”

“Ah, there is an example of an overrated city,” he teased, his voice carrying a playful tone as he chuckled on the other end of the line. "I'd love to hear more about her. I know from experience that sisters can be quite entertaining"

You chuckled, realizing that your sister's vibrant personality was indeed something to behold. "Oh, she's entertaining, alright. We are about to order in, you can join if you want”

“Oh, y/n. You have no idea how much I would love to, but I have Lukas and we already ate some spaghetti” he said, sounding a bit frustrated.

Cillian's mention of Lukas brought a smile to your face. "Spaghetti sounds good. How is he doing by the way?"

"He 's doing great. Today we went to my brother’s house. He played with his cousins all day, just put him to bed” Cillian replied, the fondness for his son evident in his voice.

“Good. I was worried” 

“I can imagine” he sighed and after a few seconds in silence he finally let it out “His mom is using again” 

You closed your eyes, not wanting to hear what he just said “I’m so sorry”

“Yeah. Me too. I’ll have to go to court this week” he inhaled and exhaled “I wish i could hold you right now” 

“Me too” you smiled “I could make you some hot chocolate, because it warms the heart” you said and he chuckled 

“I would love some hot chocolate”

“You could live closer, not almost half an hour” you complained

“I’ll be calling a real estate agent tomorrow to fix that” he said, making you giggle “we should have dinner here. you can meet Lukas” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I want him to meet you”

“And I him”

“Just gotta give him some time. He’s a little upset about not being allowed to see his mom for a while. How about saturday?”

“Saturday is great, but in the meantime you could pass by…”

“We can have lunch anytime you want, Lukas eats at school”

“Tuesday?”

“It’s a date”

“No, my sister will join us, so... not a date…” You chuckled 

“Okay, I can't wait to meet her”

Taglist: @allie131313 @sherbitdibdab @sinceviennas @stilestotherescue @astheni-a @kitkatkaitin @amanda08319 @trixie23 @nancystrange @daisythekitty @cillianbabe @sinceviennas @si1ver06 @kitkatkait @isabbellagonzalezz18 @babypink224221 @1nterstellarcha0s @thenattitude

[ramblingoak]

A Flower Crown For A Cowboy

A little ficlet from The Cardinal's Bride. This takes place in the time they were at the farmhouse but didn't make it into the main story. I'll be doing more drabbles and ficlets for the cowboy universe as the series progresses.

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader ~ You and Copia take a moment to relax and have a little picnic.

Warnings: Nothing but fluff here ! (not beta read pls excuse any mistakes)

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

“What’s your favorite flower?”

When Copia didn’t say anything you poked his knee to get his attention.  You heard him sigh before he answered you, his words slightly muffled with his hat covering his face.

“Cowboys don’t like flowers.”

You rolled your eyes, picking another dandelion and weaving the yellow flower in amongst the others of your project.

“Well what do they like then?  Guns?”  When you were met with silence you poked him again, smiling despite his growl.  “Horses?”

“Kidnapping annoying city girls.”

He knocked his leg against you, hard enough to make you nearly fall over.  With a huff you sat back up and shoved his knee away.

“Kidnap them often, do you?”

“No, they’re a giant pain in the as–hey!”

You pinched his thigh as hard as you could, crossing your arms and matching his glare when he sat up.  The sun he had gotten over the last few days had turned his cheeks and nose red.  The freckles across his face stood out even more now.  You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the ones on his shoulders and chest, your cheeks instantly reddening when you did.  When he smirked like he could read your mind you huffed and started to turn away, but he easily slid an arm around your waist and kept you close.  He plopped his hat on top of your head, chuckling when you started grumbling and reached up to adjust it so you could see him.  Oh that smile of his would be the end of you one of these days.  

Ethel had encouraged you both to take a few hours to relax that afternoon and before you knew it she had thrust a blanket in your hands and a basket of food into Copia’s.  When you wandered out onto the porch you hesitated, but Copia had just nodded his head towards you, seemingly content to take your lead.  You were both quiet as he followed you out behind the house and into the field that was now overrun with dandelions.  The both of you were mostly silent as you ate and after he was finished Copia had leaned back, covered his face with his hat and seemed to fall asleep.  You were tempted to lay back with him, but the peacefulness of the moment had you idly picking at the yellow flowers around you.  It wasn’t long before you were weaving them into a flower crown like you used to make as a child.  

“What are you making there, Principessa?”

You smiled down at your work, fitting one last dandelion in before holding it up for him to see.

“A flower crown.”  When he raised his eyebrow you turned so you could gently set it on top of his head.  “There, you look perfect."

He reached up for it but you slapped his hand away, laughing when he narrowed his eyes at you. You adjusted it so it wasn't crooked, leaning back to admire your work. It was hard not to admire Copia as well. A handful of buttons were undone on his shirt and the sight of his chest was always very distracting.

Very, very distracting.

"See something you like?"

You dragged your eyes back up to his face, sighing when you saw his smirk.

"Yes, I like these." You ran a few fingers lightly across the yellow flowers on his head. "Dandelions are my favorite flower."

"Are they?" The arm around your waist tightened and soon you found yourself settled in his lap. "This seems like something I should remember."

With a sigh you leaned against his chest, letting your eyes shut as he held you close.

"Only if you want to."

You felt his hand come up and adjust his hat that was still perched on your head. He moved it enough so that it blocked the sun from your face. He brushed a thumb across your cheek and you felt a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose before he whispered something you could barely hear as you drifted off.

"I want to remember everything."

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

my masterlist

my ao3

[echantedtoon]

Until Death Do You Vow Ch11 Epilogue

(Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. If you liked this consider checking out my other works. Thanks to everyone for reading this, faving it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Snaccpop Studios for creating such wonderful characters and giving me the opportunity to make this wonderful story.)

-TWO YEARS LATER-

The sights of the other cars and buildings going by met f/c eyes as you looked out the car window and stared at the beginning sunset. 

"So how was work today?", Taylor asked a moment after he started up driving again. 

You turned to your boyfriend and sighed tiredly. "It's fine. One of my coworkers got a broken leg from tripping over the stairs so I had to cover their shifts today. I swear all those little goblins just wanted to grab everything. I had to stop one from trying to climb on the horse statue from Greece."

Your job at the local museum was a good one but you hated school field trip days with a burning passion.  All the little imps running wild, barely listening, complaining about being bored, and trying to grab their little mits on everything they see was a lot for one person. No help from teachers who didn't seem to care as long as all of the kids stayed in one chaotic hoard. Thank God they didn't stay for more than three hours! You could've snapped and yelled at one of them-

Taylor groaned. "Ugh. Another reason why I am going to make sure that our kid doesn't end up like that."

Your brow rose. "Our kid huh?"

He shrugged without looking at you. "Still plenty of time for one. *ahem* "

You slowly shook your head yes with a sly smile. "Uh huh...Well we'll have to discuss that with Elias first and see what he thinks about becoming a second father."

"U-Um. Yeah. *Ahem* ..A-Anyways! I'm almost ready to publish my book." Taylor steered the conversation to something else really quick before turning on his blinker and turning to right onto another road. "My publisher said it looks good, but I need to get an idea for the cover. I know a really good artist and they can do it for a good price and I know what I want it to look like."

"Sounds like a plan. ...Hey. You didn't forget to close up the shop again did you?"

Taylor briefly shot you a cross between a pout and scowl. "Of course I didn't! Geez! I forget to lock the backdoor one time!"

It had been one year since you both graduated from Zephyr University. You'd taken to getting that job at the museum you've wanted. It was a good job, usually quiet but sometimes it can be stressful especially with tours of little kids of field trips. Taylor...well he didn't change much if at all. He was still the same. Still went at the most random times to do investigations. Still obsessed with documenting the paranormal but instead of running a club, he preferred to do so via updating a website by the same name as the old club. But his real day job was something that neither of you seemed to expect.

He ran a flower shop.

Gallagher And Potts's Bouquets and Flora. The name had taken forever to decide between the two men and usually consisted of Elias growing said flowers or however many flowers a specific person ordered, and Taylor just loading them up into his car and taking them over to the shop which was pretty close to the mansion just inside town. Taylor became fascinated by ecto-bontany and Elias was really happy one of his hobbies could be appreciated and flourish. The hardest part was renovating the old building you all bought for the shop. 

But he's been working on a larger side project that was paranormal investigating. Taylor had come up with the idea of writing the history behind the Gallagher curse in detail to clear up the legend once and for all..minus a couple details of course such as Elias actually being a real ghost. You both rather not have a floodgate of people coming to gawk at Elias like some carnival attraction. The collaboration AND Taylor's interest in Elias's flowers meant Elias and Taylor talking a whole lot more and well..Elias shared many intimate and personal life experiences in great detail about his life and family agreeing to want to clear up the entire legend. You guessed in turn that brought Taylor to open up about his own past. One thing lead to another, and you suddenly found the both of them falling for each other.

As for yourself it was also a new experience. Carefully but awkwardly going around a best friend who had feelings for you but eventually you both decided to try dating after a month of awkwardly dancing around the topic. And you both kept in touch with Elias so one thing also lead to another-

So here you three were. All in one big relationship with each other. It had its ups and downs but you can say you enjoyed this much more than the 'relationship' you had with Ian. Now all that heartache just seemed like a bad dream you barely thought of anymore.

Sunset came to the sky painting it pretty oranges, pinks, and yellows as the car kept driving along until you got to the edge of town and Taylor was turning into a nicely paved driveway added to the front of the mansion. Slowly coming to a stop, Taylor cut the engine and you both got out to go inside the now renovated mansion. Turns out there was a lot more than just the family jewels hidden away in the mansion. When you suggested getting the mirror fixed (thus it wouldn't be broken anymore and that would mean no more curse because of there being no more broken mirror), both men seemed all for it ..But you and Taylor could barely afford anything, Elias couldn't part with his family's jewels, and you wouldn't ask him to do Elias had agreed to spare with enough of the rest of the hidden fortune just to fix the mirror which now sat perfectly fixed and safely tucked away in Elias's room. In a hidden place only Elias knew. All fixed which meant it was harmless which meant no more bad luck which meant no more curse! When Elias brought up the idea of you both possibly living there too...Well as Taylor put it-

"I'm not living somewhere that'll give me an asthma attack!"

After you elbowed him for the rude comment, you three came to another compromise. Which was Elias allowing just enough more of the surprisingly gigantic fortune to renovate the mansion back to its full glory.

"The light's still on. Elias must be doing something."

"Probably haunting out new recipes to try and make us eat it." He rolled his eyes when you shot him a look. "You know I'm right. I'm not trusting him with anymore meatloaf." His hands grabbed the doors. 

"You're the one who asked him to try and make it because you wanted to try ghost food!"

"And I learnt my lesson." The doors were loudly pushed in to reveal a pretty clean and safe mansion. "Hey! We're back!"

You walked right in behind Taylor and found a regular sigh for you but scary for anyone else. Brooms, mops, rags, and all kinds of cleaning products were flying around and cleaning the various places of the mansion by himself. Puppeteered by the blue floating Spector in the middle of the foyor. Elias turned and his floating face lit up in a wide smile seeing you both eyes sparkling.

"My darlings!" He greeted quickly turning and floating towards you both with open arms. "How was your day?"

"Ugh. Boring. There was this guy who wouldn't make up his mind trying to decide on roses or sunflowers for like two hours and then he knocked over a stack of pots and ran off before I can make him pay for anything! I had to clean it up myself!" Taylor made no moves to stop Elias who reached him first and proceeded to plant a kiss of greeting to your shared grumpy boyfriend's face.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it. Next time just ask him politely to fix his mistakes," Elias assured him giving a comforting squeeze to Taylor's arms.

"Looks like you've been busy too," you commented looking at the nearest broom sweeping a pile of dirt into a dustpan.

Elias was quick to greet you next giving you the same kiss and hold as Taylor. The coldness of his lips making your body involuntary shiver. "Spring cleaning! I already have the upstairs finished and wanted to surprise you both with a clean house. Are you hungry? I made dinner."

"After the day we had, definitely. What did you make?"

"Meatloaf!" Taylor froze as Elias smiled wider. "I found a recipe for it in one of my grandmother's other cook books. You'll both love it!"

Taylor turned paler than Elias and you couldn't help but laugh.

[beebobeebo]

Title: Six Feet and Two Thousand Miles

Fandom: Justified

Pairing: Raylan x Tim (Givenson)

Characters: Raylan Givens & Tim Gutterson

Summary: Tim is a brat. But a brat with something cool.

Note: This is all your fault. The fluff is Raylan's.

AO3 below for those who like to collect things.

I'm not apologizing for the gif.

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

Getting out of bed would be the sensible thing to do, but for once, Tim is legitimately tired. Time differences are a bitch.

The stupid little ding-a-ling tone sounds out of his phone. He groans and taps the screen.

  “You rang?” he croaks out.

  “Mornin’,” Raylan drawls as he hopelessly holds the phone too close to his face.

  “Mornin’? Fuck you. It's three here,” Tim groans and rolls over on his side.

  “Three in the mornin’. I thought you don't sleep?”

  “No, but I do lounge,” Tim makes a show of yawning. He holds out the phone so the camera picks up the entire gesture.

  "Tim?” Raylan says, screwing his face up at the phone.

  “Jesus, Raylan, do you have gas?” Tim laughs to himself as he settles on his side.

  “What exactly do you have in your bed?" The older man says with that scrunched-up face he made when he didn't know whether to be confused or annoyed.

  "If I told you it was over six foot and Scottish would you promise to think less of me?”

  “Taller than me and Scottish?” The voice from the phone is incredulous and has that wonderful level of irritation. Tim stretches out his legs and scratches lazily at his stomach.

  “Blunt and reliable. Looks good in leather,” Tim mutters idly, his hand patting at the rumpled sheets on the bed behind him. “Likes to lay in your spot. Which you haven't been doin’ lately.”

  “Timothy.”

  “The thirteen inches to hold onto could make you nervous, but honestly, it's about trusting yourself and knowing your limits.”

  “Jesus, Tim.” The laugh from the phone is almost gentle.

  “Alright, alright, so I know a guy-”

  “You know a guy?”

  “Upwards of three of them.” Raylan just stares blankly through the screen.

  “Bad break up and someone had to take this beauty home. I couldn't say no to him. Leave him out in the cold.”

  “You couldn't?” Raylan sounds deeply, deeply tired.

  “You know the threat of you judging me is half my impulse control,” Tim says leaning down to smile directly at his erstwhile…whatever he is. 

  Definitely erstwhile, though.

  “That’s never worked before," Raylan sighs out. "What the hell’s the other half?”

  “Sloth as a concept? Yeah, it's real shitty.” Tim stares off into the middle distance for a moment before directing his attention back to the phone. "Do you want to see ‘im?”

  “Yes. I called you at midnight to see what you've dragged home,” Raylan says without any real edge. “You know this is why we don't live together?”

  Tim ignores all the implications of that question with the power of a man who has had two Red Bulls and a dream come true. He props the phone up on an intricate tower of books. “Can you see all of me?”

  “Yes,” Raylan says, his annoyed tone slipping into fondness. “I feel overdressed.”

  Tim looks down at his boxer briefs and ragged t-shirt. “You've seen me in worse. Do you wanna see this or stare at me?”

  Tim smiles as he can tell, even from a distance, Raylan is contemplating either being sweet in his way or an absolute jackass. “First one then the other.” 

  Huh. Sweet.

  “Now brace yourself. This thing could kill a horse,” Tim stops and shakes his head. “That one was unintentional.” He reaches back into the bedding and lifts a fuck-off big sword. Raylan groans loud enough that it echoes throughout Tim's bedroom.

“I know, right?”

  “Is this a Hobbit-y thing? Like the last one?” The ability of a voice from two thousand miles away to carry that much benign disappointment was worth stopping to appreciate, but Tim was far too pleased with himself to care as he held the sword at his side, arm raised to hold the hilt. It had a good four inches on him.

  “No. This isn't a 'Hobbit-y thing', and that was Andúril, Flame of the West, reforged from, you don't care. This is a claymore, a claidheam-hmor…stop making that face.” 

  Raylan looks like he might die if he doesn't manage to get air back into his lungs soon. “I love you,” he gasps out,” but the urge to give you a swirly is strong.”

  “You love me?” Tim nearly drops the damned sword.

  “I called you the minute I could. I let you talk to me about a goddamn Braveheart prop for twenty minutes like you were gonna fuck it. You're sleeping in my t-shirt. I love you, you goddamn nerd.”

  Goddammit.

  “Godammit,” Tim says, snatching up the phone. “You're across the country. This ain't fair.”

  “Cuddle your sword–”

  “Claymore.” Tim realizes he's insufferable when he's happy. 

  Happy.

  “Cuddle your claymore. I'll be back Sunday.”

  “I'll pick you up.” He meets Raylan’s eye. “Love you, dipshit.”

  “Bye, Tim. Love you.”

  The screen flashes “Call Ended” and Tim walks back over to the bed, sword dragging at his side.

He collapses into his bed and rolls over to the side Raylan claimed without so much as asking.

  Fuck.

[armandgender]

what are your ultimate spn fic recs? like, great writing, great plot, great characterisation, instant favourites?

my top 8 right now because i couldn't pick 5:

Fracture mechanics - very angsty post 15x18 fix it. one of those fics where it's hurt/comfort except the author is the one hurting and then comforting you

Spirit of the west - AU, Dean is eighteen and works on his dad’s ranch taking care of horses. Cas, a childhood friend, comes back to town. teen_dean's writing is always phenomenal

Canticles - what happens after dean and cas leave the brothel in free to be you and me. i regularly go back to this fic just to feel the heartache all over again Where black stars rise (also by teen_dean)- dean and cas explore a canyon. Interstellar vibes. Cas wears cute little hiking shorts

Swimming with the fish pond fish - amazing shorter (25k) post canon fix-it fic with trans dean

Psalm 40:2 - after 15x18 cas goes back in time to meet stanford era dean. Angsty. Young dean is like a fragile little bird i love him so much

You and me and the war of the end times - endverse grace shotgunning fic + jupernatural!

Put them in a box somewhere - 5k, technically a Mary fic but also a kid Dean study. consider it a backstory to why dean was so interested in those ballet shoes

others that are also amazing:

So Says the Sword - Cas is ordered to watch over the michael sword and ends up falling in love with him (of course)

Everyone’s a critic - fluffy AU with a lot of miscommunication. Dean runs a restaurant, Cas is a food critic who calls his garlic bread closeted

Games of skill and fortune - I haven’t actually read this one in a couple of years but I remember really enjoying it. Dean says yes to michael. 

In the shadow of your wings - the one where cas gets an italian boyfriend

If wishes were horses - postcanon fix-it by thee teen_dean who cannot miss

The reddit thread fic 

Angelus cruorem - just a horny fic where dean drinks cas’ blood

Here, bullet, here - angsty and excellent dean study 

Let the old ways die - au where dean is in a band and cas is an ex music producer who now works on a farm. This fic made me go sit on a log in the sun and listen to music for an hour 

Seek to know you better - dean and cas go through those questions that are supposed to make you fall in love. But, you know, they’re in love the whole time anyway 

Take the bones, begin anew - everything you could want from a fix-it fic

All this and heaven too - author describes it as a love letter to every trans person who ever projected onto dean. i go back to it a lot :^)

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Nineteen.

I'm so sorry I missed an update last week, guys. Friday was a busy one for me! Hope you enjoy it, and happy Friday to you all :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,351

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

The normalcy of being home; it was something she craved above all when her life and career took her far away from it, Jade standing softly singing to herself as she stirred a pot of sauce upon the stove, her dogs milling around, Salem in his usual place upon the rug. Their other cat, Juno, wasn’t present, the big, pale grey Mane Coon exactly where she always was whenever they were home; welded to Adrien’s side.  

It was very fair to say she was daddy’s girl.  

They had four days left with one another before he would fly out to Rome to begin shooting his next project, the film entitled Third Person, the locations switching between the Italian capital, Paris and New York for twelve weeks, Adrien’s stint filming in Italy taking up nine of those. She would be leaving just before he came home, off to LA to work on a film she’d very much been looking forward to, a biopic about musical legend Gregg Allman, in which she would be playing a woman – who became an even bigger legend than he, if you asked her – he'd been married to for three years back in the seventies.  

Yes. She was playing Cher. And god, she was so excited. She’d nearly pee’d with elation when the lady herself had called her up and congratulated her, the women enjoying a long conversation about the upcoming role. ‘Just make sure you play me right, kid’, the icon had told Jade, who had walked around her house in a daze afterwards, only able to mutter ‘I just spoke to Cher on the phone, and she’s bloody lovely!’ on repeat for the following hour, giggling too.  

She giggled to herself all over again at the memory, wobbling a little, the fact that she’d only eaten half a bagel and a salad that day playing havoc with the fact she was on her second large glass of wine. Looking up, she saw the back door open, her paint flecked husband coming in, a very contented Juno riding his shoulder.  

“There’s my baby love,” he cooed, “cooking things that smell entirely too good. What are we having?” 

“Baked Ziti.” Ahhh, yes. Marry a girl from Italian roots and damn, the food she’ll cook for you. “And a fuckload of salad. I can’t have more than a few mouthfuls. I need to keep small to play Cher. Her body in the seventies was something else!”  

“I think you can spare a little more than that, Burtie,” he spoke, wrapping his arms around her, Juno jumping down to the floor neatly. “Really, you’re like a pin with great tits as it is.”  

“Pin with great tits and a six pack!” she shouted playfully, yanking up her t shirt. Any chance she got to flash her abs, she took it, Adrien bending to blow a raspberry against her stomach.  

“Sexy as hell, honey.” Giving her a big kiss, he reached for the open wine bottle, pouring himself a glass before jumping to sit on the counter, a nearby Brando rising up on his hind legs to place his paws on his knees, chew toy proffered forth. “So, gimme the rundown. You’re in LA from April seventeenth to May twenty first, and then what?”  

Giving the sauce another gentle stirring, she then put the hob on beneath the large pot of water to take care of the pasta. “Then we’re flying straight to the UK to headline the Friday at Download festival, then onto Germany to do another open air, then spending a week out there before moving onto the festival in France, then Spain, meaning I’ll arrive back on the July fifteenth with three days to spare before big pony gets here!” 

Oh, how excited she was for the arrival of her horse, everything ready for Mia when she got there, Jade having spent an eye watering amount of money on all the associated paraphernalia horses needed, including many thousands on a horse truck to actually bring her back from the airport in. She was worried about her having to be flown over, scared of her becoming panicked, being on the plane, but calmed a little for knowing she would be given a mild sedative prior to her flight, plus the fact that Wolfgang, the groom from the riding school would be flying with her.  

“And then it all calms down for a while,” he spoke, letting Brando win their tug o’ war game, the dog shaking his rope and trotting off to chew it over the other side of the kitchen. “It’s gonna be so damned strange, spending almost three months at home before I’m back working.”  

They had a few commitments between late June and mid-September, a few public appearances, invited to the Malaysian Grand Prix, a few charity events in New York, LA and London, a movie premiere for the last film Jade had shot and two for Adrien, but mostly they would get to enjoy a slower pace for once. It was virtually unheard of, for a couple who worked as hard as they did, both very much looking forward to an extended period of being able to spend some quality time together. 

“What’s this here?” he then asked, leaning over to reach for a handful of printed sheets of paper. 

“Oh! I meant to show you that and then I had wine!” 

Snorting a laugh, he looked at what he held, turning the pages as he tried to make sense of it. “It’s a teeny house of some sort?” 

“It’s a hen house, complete with roost. I’m making it myself since I couldn’t find anything I liked the look of online,” she spoke, sipping her wine and slotting herself between his thighs, Adrien wrapping his legs around her. “Stop laughing.” 

“I’m not.” That was negated somewhat by the shaking shoulders as he at least attempted to keep it in. “Burtie, we both know you and assembly don’t go hand in hand. You can’t even do flatpack.” 

She was aghast. “I bloody can!” 

Oh, the little bubble of delusion his beloved liked to live within. “The shelves in the bathroom?” 

“I got them done!” There was a pause. “Eventually.” 

“The bed at your place in the city? Granted, that was before my time, but Jen told me that you called her having a meltdown when you couldn’t get it assembled.” 

“It was difficult holding things together while lining the screws up!”  

“And you think joinery is gonna be any easier? With the nails and the sanding and the measuring?”  

She tightened her lips, trying not to laugh as he raised one eyebrow significantly higher than the other. “Will you let me help you before I go away?” 

“I can manage fine, Bug.” 

He hummed, resting his chin atop her head. “I’m not convinced at all. I don’t want to come home to a wife whose missing bits of herself, and the idea of you using a saw unassisted is scary as hell.”  

“How dare you cast such aspersions upon my DIY skills!” she gasped comically, flicking the papers in his hands with her finger a couple of times. “I’m working to plans! I measured, I even plotted out ground space, too!”  

Looking at them again, he concentrated, pointing at the measurements at the top of the page. “The roof will overhang the actual structure by four feet.” He couldn’t help but laugh at the sour face he was greeted with. “Stop scowling because you’re wrong. I’m helping you.”  

She finally smiled, realising that he was right and yes, she could likely do with a little assistance with her project. “Thank you." Kissing him, she went back to the pot upon the hob, picking up her phone and ordering all the timber needed from the nearest lumber yard, choosing the express option that would have the items delivered by noon the following day.  

When noon arrived, what began with good intentions after the delivery had been dropped off soon became a lesson in why couples, even those who rarely fought beyond stupid bickering, should never, ever attempt a joint DIY project.  

“No, that’s a side panel. It isn’t a floor piece.” He took a breath, at least attempting not to let his temper be further prickled.  

“It isn’t. The floor pieces are flat, the side panels are ridged. I haven’t nailed the last one together yet.” 

“Well, why the fuck not? It needs the last side panel putting on before the floor!” 

“Because as I just fucking said, I haven’t nailed it together yet!” 

“Then why not do that first instead of doing the floor?” 

“Because then I’ve got a space to easily get in and out of it to put the floor pieces in, haven’t I? If I don’t, then I’ve got to crawl through the pissing tiny little hen door, and I’m about four feet too fucking tall for that, Adrien!”  

“Or, and how about this for a revelation, since the roof isn’t on yet, just turn it upside down and nail the floor into the frame that way, so the nails then go up into the side pieces too and give it more support! Fucking hell!” 

Her jaw tightened staring at her husband, pointing the claw hammer she held towards him. “Knock the sarcasm off. You’re being a prick for the sake of it.”  

“And you’re being your usual, insufferable self who can’t get things done logically.” 

“Oh, alright, fucks sake!” she yelled, dropping the hammer with a thud. “So I didn’t think to upend it to nail the flooring on. True to form, you just have to be an all-knowing arsehole about it, don’t you?” 

He snorted, shaking his head. “And you wanted to do this by yourself. You’d have ended up with something like Homer Simpson had when he was making the doghouse.” He couldn’t help but laugh, realising how stupid their argument had become, looking up fondly. “I’m sorry.”  

“Fuck off.”  

“Come on, Jade. I said I’m sorry. Help me turn this over and we’ll get the floor nailed on.” While he was all for moving on with things speedily, Jade was a stewer, and stew on it she did, looking at him from under a furrowed brow. “Ow! Jesus fuck, Jade!” 

“What now?” she shouted, wishing for nothing more than a packet of matches, so she could set fire to her very bad idea. Why did she have to be so fussy? Why couldn’t a pre-assembled hen house have been good enough? 

“You just dropped it on my hand!”  

“Shit, are you alright?”  

“No.” She went to approach him, Adrien pointing. “Uh-uh. Bad to be near me right now. Very bad.” 

While he stormed off in the direction of the house, grasping his hand, she stood and took a deep breath. Big things they never truly argued about, somehow they seemed to have a very efficient synergy for dealing with larger problems they faced, but little things? Oh, they blew up. Both acting like stubborn idiots mostly.  

Knowing he needed time to cool down, she nailed the floor pieces on herself, then assembled the side panel, carefully turning the roost over to affix it. The roof frame was placed on, long nails hammered in to secure it to the main frame, only the roof panels left before it had to be affixed to the base frame, lifting it up high. She was about to begin nailing said panels on when a familiar scent drifted under her nose, Jade turning to see Adrien over to the side of the house, sitting on the outdoor couch on the patio. 

“Wow, I drove you to weed, hmm?” 

He side eyed her, picking up the bottle of beer he’d also brought out with him. “I think I might have driven myself to it, too.” That time, when he laughed softly, softness was returned, his wife moving to sit at his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing it.  

“How’s your hand?”  

He sniffed, holding it up. It was marked with a bright red line and a few grazes. “Had to yank out a few splinters. Nothing that being a little stoned won’t fix.” 

“Or you’ll fall asleep,” she shrugged, moving to lie her head on his lap, taking the joint when he passed it to her. 

“There’s a fifty percent chance of that,” he winked, making her snort softly.  

“Oh, not so mad that I won’t get the brunt of the horny sex demon, then?” she chuckled, blowing smoke down her nose.  

He leaned to her, kissing her forehead. “No, but I will fuck you angrily, Moo.”  

Any lingering tension melted away as she boomed a laugh, taking another drag, feeling the strong weed beginning to work. Her giggles only intensified, moving to lie with her head on his lap. 

“Look at you, fucking weed lightweight,” he spoke. Neither were particular hardened to it, though, smoking it as infrequently as they did. “What’s funny?” 

“The fact that we...” She sent him into a snorting mess, watching her hiss with laughter. “The fact that we can weather the hugest of storms in our life without so much as a crossed word, but building a hen house is what tips us into all the yelling and the rage!”  

“And then we get stoned and laugh about how completely ridiculous we are. Works for me,” he spoke, supressing a cough, taking another drag and handing it back to her, beginning to bounce his thigh beneath her head. 

“No, stop. You’ll give me motion sickness.”  

Why that was so hilarious, he had no idea, but it took him a good three minutes to stop laughing. Looking down, he continued to snicker, seeing Jade prodding her tongue against the zipper of his cargo pants. “You’ll wake him up.” 

“Maybe I want to.” Moving her hand, she pressed against his crotch, feeling a swell of semi-erectness there already. “Mmm, already awake, so I feel.” Moving astride him, her fingers glided through his hair giving it a little tug as she tickled his lips with her tongue, kissing him with slow, syrupy heat. “If you'll excuse me, I think I need to kiss you right here.” she purred, grasping his rapidly thickening cock with a soft moan, tongue flickering against the stubble upon his throat.  

“Eventually,” he grunted, mouth moving to her neck, pulling her black vest top up. “After I’ve sucked your tits.”  

Who was she to deny a man who hungered for her nipples? Pulling off her top while he flicked her bra undone, she gasped at the contact, the bud of her nipple bathed in a warm, wet hug, his big hands kneading softly as she rocked against him. Pressing herself against his cock had little shocks tingling within her, a soft mewl leaving her pretty lips when her other nipple was closed upon with a bite, his hands moving to smooth up and down her back.  

“Get these off," he instructed, tugging her cut offs, Jade backing off him to do just that, sliding them and her little red thong off, yanked back into his arms, his fingers pushing into her folds as he resumed the suck around her nipple. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.”  

The warm honey of her cunt saturated his fingers as he embedded them in her, a shallow push to begin with, nudging her sweet spot, gliding them in further with a sumptuous rotation that had her clenching around them, his mouth finding hers as they panted and moaned into urgent, feverish kisses.  

With his free hand, he undid his pants, Jade assisting by yanking them down his thighs for him to somewhat awkwardly wriggle out of and kick off, pulling his t shirt off. Moving his hand, he then impaled her on his hardness fully, teeth sharp at her neck, her cry filling the air. “Not that I don’t love being stretched wide around it, but this isn’t getting your cock sucked, is it?”  

He rumbled a chuckle, kissing her again. “Tell you what, I’ll make you come first, then blow my load right down your throat. How about that?”  

“Mmm,” she purred, “can’t wait for you to make me choke on it.” Their mouths crashed together, the rocking of his hips against her sending darts of pleasure as he hit her clit every time, her grinding down on him sending further streaks of bliss that ignited the embers flickering to full burn.  

"Oh god, fuck, oh!" she cried, feeling him shift forward, grasping her legs. She moved them, crossing them behind him, the move allowing her to sink down further upon him, his cock hitting her deep as their bodies rocked together ferally. Each press of him right up against her summit had neon bursts radiating within her, crying out as she clasped herself around him, sucking his tongue, staring into the sunlit, moss green of his eyes. "Fuck, I love you." 

Those words never failed to make his heart thunder harder, conveying the same in how he kissed her, standing to carry her to the back door, her body pressed against the glass, pinned there by his chest as he moved his hands, gripping her thighs and holding her spread, beginning to fuck up into her with savage need. 

The heavy pressure of his cock was a sharp-edged pleasure, her body banging against the glass she was pressed into, the raw, primal need of it suffusing down to her marrow. Oh, when the horny sexy demon in him came out to play, how he brought the fire with him. The warm wet of her clamped around him strongly, each thrust pounded into her harder to fight the tension gripping onto his cock, his groans all earth and salt as he buried his mouth against her neck.  

The continued deep, rapid spearing of his cock into her had the pleasure pooling golden, her thighs tightening upon his waist, hips rolling against him as she cried out like a wounded animal, the lightning arcing through her, the release pulsating up her spine. With his own fluttering at the base of his cock, he pulled from her, carrying her back to the couch, hands entwining in her hair as she took him in her mouth and let him fuck the plush of her squeezing lips, until with a gritted groan he filled her throat with cum.  

What began as a day of construction and petty yelling ended in a naked evening, neither bothering to dress, lying together on the couch outside drinking beers and relaxing under the warm, spring sun. A state of relax was how they spent their last two days together, Jade kissing him goodbye at the airport, dashing home again feeling a little sad for him leaving for nine weeks. It didn’t matter how used to it she was, she loved being near her husband.  

Having the house to herself was nice, though, continuing her daily workouts in order to remain ripped enough to easily pass off as a nineteen seventies Cher, with how lean her body was back then, the project ever drawing nearer. The week before she was due to depart, she had a house guest come to stay in the form of Katie, a little lonely herself since Charlotte was on tour with Crimson Shrines, the death metal side project band she played in.  

“Bro, this is so ready for chickens!” the lady herself spoke, she and Jade standing back to admire the project they’d teamed together to complete. The latter was going to complete it with her husband, but wanted to spend some time of greater quality with him in his remaining days before he’d left.  

“It is, my friend. It is. Shame there won’t be any in it for a couple of months, unless Adrien decides to buy some while I’m gone,” she mused, opening the gate as they headed back towards the house. “Oh! I almost forgot to say, I have a package coming at any time, but I have to take Atlas and Bear to the vets for their jabs. Can you be around to hear the bell instead of outside?” 

“Sure can, baby. I was planning on playing cook tonight anyways,” she spoke, Jade spinning to grasp her arms. 

“Please tell me you’re making your chicken teriyaki burgers!” Anyone who’d ever eaten one of Katie’s famous creations would understand the urgency. They were beyond delicious. 

“Can confirm, I am making my chicken teriyaki burgers. Where’s your charcoal at, gonna barbecue ‘em, they always taste better that way. And don’t make that face! I texted Adrien to ask if I could use it and he said yes, just to keep you well away from it!” 

Jade pouted, remembering the incident that had almost led to their very expensive, Big Green Egg barbecue overheating, Jade lighting it but not opening the vent. Her husband had gone berserk and banned her from going anywhere near it in the wake of almost trashing it. “Fine. I’ll make salad.” 

Wrapping her arm around her shoulders, Katie kissed her cheek. “That’s a good lil’ woman.” A hard slap greeted her backside for that comment, laughing and bending over. “Ooooh, gimme another! You spank way harder than Charlotte!” 

“Get in the damned house, you bloody menace!”  

While Katie began her dinner prep, Jade got her two biggest dogs into the harnesses, kissing her friend goodbye and picking up her keys and bag. Opening the rear of her Jeep, the hounds jumped in, Jade affixing them in safely and shutting the door, throwing her bag onto the passenger seat. She loved living somewhere where she could do that and not worry about anybody smashing her window to steal it.  

Selecting an album to listen to, she placed her cell phone into the cup holder and reversed out, driving around to the front of the house and down the long drive, noticing how full all the trees lining it were beginning to look. The new ones she’d planted a year before were budding nicely, too, still supported by long bamboo canes to assist in their fledgling stages.  

Slowing her car, she pressed the fob to open the electric gates, looking back in the rear view at the trees again. She wondered where she’d be in life when they’d finally reached a significant height, driving through the gateway slowly, about to pull out of her drive when she heard something hit the back of her car.  

“Is that one of you fat headed buggers?” she muttered, turning to look at her dogs, see which one of them had decided to bang their face against the window. Neither had, both growling at the source of the noise as the baseball bat was swung again, chaotic barking following as the window cracked, Serena swinging it again and this time shattering the glass completely. 

“Get out here or I’ll fucking kill your dogs, Jade! Get out of this car now!”  

Her mouth dropped open, her limbs already feeling light and tingly, her stomach plummeting like she’d swallowed a led weight. Now was not the time to wonder how on earth her stalker had escaped a treatment facility, Jade grabbing her phone and calling nine one one, asking for the police and giving her address, trembling as she did. She was advised by the operator to stay in the car, but as Serena continued, she knew that wasn’t possible, the rear windscreen beginning to crack.  

There was no way she was risking the safety of her dogs, big and ferocious as they were, even a mastiff would be lucky to survive a crack to the skull with a baseball bat. With adrenaline coursing through her, she cut the engine, jumping from the car and storming to the rear of the vehicle.  

“You fucking dare threaten my bloody dogs, you fucking psychopath!” she bellowed, that famous roar she was known for gravelling her voice. “You want some? Come fucking get it.” Striding for her, Jade remembered her fight training from one of the last movies she’d done, having to accurately portray a hard as nails mercenary. She wasn’t a fighter in reality, not at all, but when presented with the animals she thought of as her babies coming under attack, the protector came out.  

Serena screamed in all-out rage, swinging the bat, Jade ducking, her leg shooting out to round kick her in the thigh. The move knocked her aggressor off balance, the bat grabbed, the women wrestling one another for supremacy, Jade towing her near enough to throw her forehead straight into her nose, the bone breaking with a sickening crack, wrenching the bat from her grasp and hurling it as far away as she could throw.  

A melee followed, Jade punched in the eye, reaching for Serena’s hair and slamming her head off the back of the Jeep, the dogs still barking furiously within. “Stay away from me, you sick fuck!” she roared, smashing her head against the taillight again, Serena suddenly lurching forward. 

“Fuck you, fuck you!”  

She felt it hit her side, something sharp and cold, again and again, the pain like cold fire burning as with both hands, she made one last valiant effort, hurling Serena’s head so hard into the Jeep, blood exploded over the paintwork, finally going limp as Jade threw her to the ground. Looking at her side, the horror of her damage was evident, her grey t shirt and blue jeans becoming soaked in blood, sirens wailing in the distance as she fell to the ground.  

Her dogs barking. 

A copper taste filling her mouth as she wheezed. 

A tall, handsome police officer calling for immediate backup and an ambulance on his radio, his voice telling her to stay with him as he applied pressure to her wounds. 

A puddle of blood pouring from her side.  

Her eyes fluttered, heavy, coldness dragging at her, luring, beckoning.  

Black.  

Lights in her eyes, people shouting stats at one another, motion, another bright light. Sirens wailing. “Thirty-four-year-old female, multiple stab wounds...”  

Black.  

Light, bright light.  

Pain. 

Shouting. 

Nothing. 

Black.  

[piosplayhouse]

Do you know why so many people hc Shen Yuan as trans/genderqueer? Some posts in the svsss tag seem to allude to canon instances that inspire the idea, but I've read the 4 volumes twice trying to find clues to what people are talking about to no avail. Is it just a popular fanon thing? Not against people reading it that way, just wondering if I'm missing something.

Hi! I actually got a very similar question a while back but responded to it kind of poorly since I had a lot going on irl so I'll try again with some stuff I said before:

Ultimately it is just popular fanon and lots of subtextual reading- I don't think anyone could fully say gendersomething sqq is 100% intended and canonical, but there definitely are some instances that people tend to point to to support this hc:

Even beyond positioning himself as the “woman” (literary role) in his relationship with the skinner and dream demon arcs etc., sqq repeatedly compares himself and his experiences to women in a very frank way– I believe this is most obvious by his comparison of his pain to period cramps, but there’s also the significance of the Skinner mission featuring a demon which is described as an originally male demon that wears female skins but yearns for another male skin (Shen Qingqiu’s). You could argue this is just a reflection of transphobia in the story but I do think it’s interesting to note that this is sqq’s first mission, and comes during a period of time that he still clearly believes himself to be a man (Shen Yuan) wearing another’s skin (original Shen Qingqiu’s). And of course he continues to project his own feelings onto the female characters around him, which you could argue is due to his literary role becoming that of a female love interest’s, but a point that I find particularly interesting is that he also compares himself to Binghe’s mother completely unprovoked, something that easily (maybe even more easily bc lets be real why the fuck did he say 'Binghe if i was pregnant with you I would never abort you' there are so many other things you could say that arent th) could’ve been substituted for a male comparison for him using Confucian values of the teacher/student relationship relating to that of a father and son. Instead, he becomes the mother. He's a strange little Freudian specimen to be honest. Speaking of which if you would like to read a much more in depth analysis of topics including this with textual evidence I do have to recommend tshirt3000's Freudian reading of Scum Villain which can be found as a pdf here:

I hope this makes a little bit of sense! Tldr yes it's mostly just fandom but so much about scum villain is about gender and toxic masculinity and what does it really mean to be a man in a genre where your masculinity is a tool to attain power for your desperate search for unattainable reciprocated love in a hopeless world where you are promised only shallow sexual comfort to appease horny viewers that would discard you as soon as you begin to feel emotions other than rage. If Shen Yuan was a horse he would be a gelding because the castration mellows their temperament just so

[clonewarsarchives]

Hello there!

I just wanted to write in to express my gratitude and ask a couple questions.

Long story short, I gave up on both the EU and Disney Star Wars canons some time ago, instead choosing to vet the works myself and add them to my own list. This has brought me much joy and breathed new life into this franchise for me, because now, anything I don't like, I can just ignore.

My focal point for vetting is involvement from George Lucas, and so naturally The Clone Wars (Seasons 1-6, anyways) got accepted, and is a huge part of my own canon.

But in doing the research for this project, I have discovered so much more Star Wars to take in than I ever had before. Case in point is the webcomics for The Clone Wars, which I had no idea existed before doing the research for all this in the past year or so.

I was looking for these webcomics in an idle way for a little bit, and finally sat down with Google, and what should I find but your blog?

It's a treasure trove of all materials related to The Clone Wars, so I wanted to say thank you! I am especially grateful to get to read these webcomics, since they were tied to Adobe Flash in some way on the official website, and cannot be viewed there any more within the limits of what I'm willing to do, and so I had accepted that that was lost for me. But your blog has made it not so! So thank you very much! And now, my questions:

Do you mind if I save the webcomics from your blog onto my computer?

Do you happen to have, or know where I could read, copies of Bait, Act on Instinct, or The Valsedian Operation? These were the only complete comics that I could not find on your blog.

Could you tell me more about the UK Magazine? This is another thing about which I know nothing and would love to learn.

Are you aware that the last two pages of webcomic #6, The Fall of Falleen, seems to have the last two pages swapped?

Is there a page missing from your post of Hunting the Hunters, Part 1? Parts 2 and 3 have the pages with the game tease lines at the bottom, but then have another page afterwards, whereas Part 1 does not.

Regarding both the Dark Horse monthly series and the graphic novellas, do you know if these have been collected anywhere, if they remain in print, and where I could buy them online that isn't Amazon?

Thank you very much, and clear skies!

Thank you for the message! Glad to be of help. To answer:

Is it okay to save posts from this blog on my computer?

Yes! Please save anything you like on this blog rather. I started this to offload my hard drive and prevent them from being lost media lol

post issues:

Bait should be the S1E11 accompanion? I did post it just forgot to tag 😅

I swear a few years ago Act on Instinct and The Valsedian Operation were availabe just on dubious free read comic online sites... don't seem to be anymore. here you go

Fixed the pages in Q4 & Q5. Thanks for telling me!

UK Magazine

Its proper name is Star Wars: The Clone Wars Comic. UK got a Clone Wars magazine because the publisher, Titan Comics, is a UK-based company, the one that makes Star Wars Insider.

The monthly issue features episode guide, games and an original comic strip. It was later reprinted in the US as a bi-monthly. The blog followed the UK publishing order since that's chronological and collected in full. Some issues were left out in the US reprint.

Dark Horse series

Both the monthly series and novellas started in Sept 2008 but the monthly series only lasted to Jan 2010 while novellas continued every few months until after the Disney buyout.

No omnibus were made or planned. So if you want a print version, you could only look in the library or the second-hand market.

dubious free read comic online sites have the full set fyi

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Mother's Little Helper (This fic is canon divergent)

The humming of a church hymn left the lips of Patience Wittebane as she lifted the wooden handle of her charcoal iron, carefully placing hot coals inside it while wearing her husband's work gloves.

The housewife did not wish to burn her hands or fingers.

Subsequently, she returned to the surface where the new tablecloth she had sewn was situated.

Taking off the work gloves, she set them aside.

After positioning the heated iron on the cloth, she proceeded to move it smoothly across the covering.

"Oh, mother, what are you doing?" Philip asked with an adorable amount of excitement as he entered the ironing room.

"Ironing," Patience told him in the sweetest of tones as she picked up her iron, sending her youngest son a gentle smile.

The charcoal iron triggered a sparkle in Philip's blue eyes. "Ooo, ironing looks like a lot of fun! Can I help you iron, mother? Please?" Philip plead with his hands clasped and gave Patience the biggest set of puppy dog eyes.

The mother held onto her smile as she giggled, giving her son a small nod.

"Yay! But wait..." His joy was short-lived as he realized something that caused his happiness to fade. "I don't know how to iron," He sadly admits, his shoulders sagging.

"Would you like me to instruct you on how?"

As she asked this, Patience's smile became sympathetic.

Philip gasped as he raised his head and nodded quickly at the offer. "Yes, mother! Yes, please!" He beamed, his smile returning as he bounced up and down. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you so much!"

Patience giggled at the gleeful boy. "You're welcome, my dear."

He was excited to let Caleb know that he had learned how to iron from their mother when they were finished and when he and his father returned home from their fishing trip.

...

"To start, you'll need to place your hand on the handle, just like I'm doing."

Philip appeared hesitant to follow his mother's instructions as he stood between her and the ironing surface, holding his left hand in his right. "But, what if I burn myself by accident?" He innocently inquired in a small voice.

Patience remained patient, presenting her son with an understanding smile.

"You won't, Philip. I promise. Touching here is safe, but the bottom is scalding hot. It's important to avoid it."

Philip placed his hand on his mother's hand slowly, having faith in her words.

"Your next action is to press down, but not too hard," Patience explained to him while steadily steering his little hand. "In order to prevent burning the fabric, we must keep the iron moving."

The wrinkles on the cloth began to slowly disappear, causing Philip to smile. "Look, mother! The wrinkles! They're going away!"

Philip's excited chirp caused Patience to giggle again. "Indeed, they are, Philip. Are you enjoying the process of ironing?"

Philip nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, mother! It's so much fun! The tablecloth is starting to look more sophisticated now."

"Good, I'm glad, because you're doing a splendid job helping me."

Patience's praise made his face radiate a warm smile. "Thank you," he replied.

...

Once the cloth was completely free of wrinkles, Patience and Philip proceeded to the dining room together where they spread the fabric on the table.

It looked beautiful.

"Thank you again for your help, Philip. Would you like to assist me with ironing again in the future?"

The question made his eyes light up. "Yes, I would! When I grow up, I'm going to be the best ironer ever! I'll iron all sorts of nice things like clothes, tablecloths, and blankets for horses so they stay warm during the winter!"

Patience giggled, gently patting her son's head. "I'm sure you will someday."

...

As time progressed, now in the Deadwardian era, Philip was in his cave working on his latest sewing project: a white, brown, and gold tunic that the bearded man planned on wearing later on in his life.

After finishing his garment with the final stitches, he placed it on a firm flat surface and then walked away before coming back with a charcoal iron.

Pressing the steaming soleplate against his attire, he began working.

[aristocratic-otter]

Hello all! I've been tagged on so many lovely things the last couple of weeks and, while I've been writing, it's just been one step to far to post with everything else I've got to do. But I've got time today, hooray! So first to thank all the lovely folk who keep tagging me even when I disappear:

@ivelovedhimthroughworse, @katmiscellanious, @prettygoododds, @messofthejess, @j-nipper-95, @rimeswithpurple, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @wellbelesbian, @alleycat0306, @hushed-chorus, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @whatevertheweather, @ileadacharmedlife, @confused-bi-queer, @cutestkilla, @nightimedreamersghost, and @shrekgogurt.

On to the sentences!

From Westward Son:

“Mistress Penny!” he shouts. “My little brother is coming, and my mother wants your help!”

We all straighten. We’d thought Chapa was heavily pregnant months ago, but she’s only gotten more immense since. She’s had to ride in the wagon for the last two months, once her bulk meant she couldn’t keep up with the slow pace of the wagon train. Penny is certain that she’s carrying twins, given the size of her.

From my Age of Sail AU:

When I emerge onto the beach, blinking rapidly against the sunlight, the tide has gone out, and the rock spur our ship is hung up on is surrounded by prolly only a foot or so of water. 

“Ah, there you are, Simon lad,” Davy appears at my elbow, and I turn obediently to listen. “The tide’s low enough,” he tells me. “We’ll take the raft out an’ you and the Pitch boy can climb around the ship like the monkeys you are and retrieve anythin’ that’s of use.”

“Aye, sir,” I tell him. I’m bone tired, but we’ll need those barrels and boxes of goods on the ship if we’re to survive here.

From this year's COTTA: Snow Fox

Penny’s horse was done in from her wild ride to Snow Island, so she’s mounted up behind me, clinging to my waist, and Shepard is riding behind my second in command. Which would be fine were she not using her position to hiss angry rebukes in my ear. 

Finally, I’ve had enough. “Fine, I get it, Pen. I’m an arsehole! What can I do about it now?”

“Now?” she shouts back. “Now you can save my brother. Later? You’re going to train me, and Shepard, so that we can defend our family and make sure this never happens again!”

From To Heal A Broken Mind (final chapter!):

His head is tilted down, his hair loose and falling into his face. He tends to do that when he feels vulnerable, I’ve noticed. Like his hair is a mask that will protect him from a harsh world. It’s odd..I never used to think of Baz as someone who’d ever need or want protection. But I know better now, and I’m glad for it. Glad that he lets me see this side of himself. 

And From Saving Simon Snow

“Now grab Baz’s hand, Simon, and think about what I told you to,” she directs. Simon does. I do my best to clear my mind, though when Simon closes his eyes and concentrates, I can’t help but think about how erotic he looks, with his closed eyes turned towards the roof of the car, his lower lip sucked into his mouth, his forehead tense with concentration. Crowley, he looks like he’s in the midst of an orgasm! 

And that’s when I feel a surge of excitement, mixed with joy and incredulity. The feelings aren’t completely at odds with my own, but I still report them dutifully to Bunce.

Yes, only five WIPs! Except actually there's a secret project going on that I can't share yet...and CORB choosing starts soon...so, yeah.

Tag Backsies to everyone above for Wednesday, along with these folks:

@artsyunderstudy, @angelsfalling16, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @fatalfangirl, @facewithoutheart, @ic3-que3n, @krisrix, @larkral, @letraspal, @moodandmist, @frjsti, @raenestee, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @theearlgreymage, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @yellobb-old.

[applestorms]

"quick" reflection on intelligence in homestuck:

i've been thinking about this a lot lately, especially in conjunction with my john post, so i just wanted to make a little reflection about it.

this is going to be relevant to a greater wip post on dirk strider & plato more generally, but i'm going to phrase all of this within the terms of the allegory of the cave (and more generally the metaphysics plato talks about in books v-vii of the republic) for clarity.

SO, if you somehow you missed out, here is the basics of the allegory of the cave: within the metaphor, a bunch of people are chained to the ground with their backs to the entrance of this cave, unable to look anywhere other than directly in front of them. behind their backs is a fire, and between that fire and the people there is a line of puppet masters holding up puppets reflecting real life objects that are then projected onto the walls of the cave for the chained people to see.

at some point, for some reason, a person (namely, a philosopher) will be dragged out from their chains, kicking and screaming, to the mouth of the cave and tossed into the real world. there they will be met by a number of new objects to perceive, all vastly different from the shadows on the walls that they had previously been seeing. instead of the shadow of a horse, they'll see a whole ass real horse, out in the daylight and everything, though first they might have to come to terms with seeing a reflection of that horse in water. essentially their perception of the world will blow their fuckin mind but by the end of it they'll totally love this new world of light and real actual objects and never want to leave it.

at some point though, they'll be obligated to come back and join the others in the cave once again. coming back down they might struggle to word exactly what it is that they saw outside of the cave, or may be laughed off by the people who have only ever seen shadows and only ever understand shadows, but because they have that knowledge, it is now their duty to lead the others, at least for a little while, before they can go back into that bright, sunny world again.

there are a ton of ways that this story can be relevant in homestuck, and i do wanna get into that at some point in the future (e.g. the puppets, light as knowledge w/ rose, plato's elitism especially w/ regards to the philosopher ruler, etc.) but for now to focus on intelligence:

there are two types of intelligence in homestuck, which can in the terms of plato's cave allegory be categorized as knowledge of the Forms (or the "true" intelligence that you gain by leaving the cave) and knowledge of the Mimics/Imitations (or the intelligence you gain by watching the shadows on the wall). note that plato gets hells of into talk about imitations around ehh books ii-iii i believe but also especially in book x right at the very end, mostly in his criticisms of the works of hesiod/homer (also yes this is related to the mimesis shit from detective pony).

in homestuck terms, these categories can be described as knowledge of the world and knowledge of the World, or actual knowledge of how real life things work vs. knowledge about the meta structure of homestuck as a comic and how the fictional world functions (the game rules, you could say). interestingly, meta knowledge about the world of the comic as a story seems to be privileged here, which perhaps makes sense since it feels more significant for a fictional character to be aware of details about their own story. to give an example that might help: this is knowledge about computers (understanding the shadows) vs. knowing that the laws of the world they live in are based around computers (understanding the Forms, or the origin of reality).

what this means is that characters designated as intelligent in homestuck can also be split along the same lines according to which kind of knowledge they have, which of course can change over time as well. take jade, for example: she is just generally quite smart in that she understands a lot of physics and quantum mechanics science-y shit, but also by the fact that she has access to some greater Knowledge at the start of her arc through the visions she gets from prospit. dirk is intelligent in the shadow-knowledge sense because he understands the history of humanity leading up to its eventual death at the hands of HIC, but seems to struggle a lot more to access that greater Knowledge, which i think is actually shown a lot more in the post-canon stuff w/ all of the ultimate self shit. jake on the other hand might be lacking intelligence in terms of shadow-knowledge (maybe, it's kinda hard to tell, actually- i would say this is true just because he doesn't seem to care all that much about studying in the same way dirk does) but he at least subconsciously is frighteningly aware of how the World works, as seen here (A6A3:4928):

JAKE: The demon you say im supposed to defeat? ARANEA: Yes. JAKE: Hang on. JAKE: Would that be the same demon im named after? ARANEA: Who told you that? JAKE: Uh... JAKE: I guess technically my own brain did? ARANEA: That's interesting. ARANEA: I wasn't planning on mentioning that. Or at least not just yet.

the most straightforward example here though is rose, who through her status as a seer of light just so so so perfectly fits into having knowledge of the Forms. the association in the original text of the republic of light and Forms knowledge fits this perfectly too.

one caveat to this view of intelligence is that it doesn't necessarily account for emotional intelligence, which i would actually put in a fully separate category that karkat obviously fuckin rules over (and roxy, to some degree). what's important though is that this structure separates out the intelligence of Omniscient/semi-omniscient beings (doc scratch, hal, kinda calliope but ehh i'll get to that) from normal super-smart kid intelligence, which is key when trying to analyze what characters are actually aware of, and from that, what we can actually trust when it comes to analyzing homestuck's lore. we really can't forget here that homestuck is a story told almost entirely through dialogue and conversations meaning that pretty much all lore comes through potentially biased narrators, something that is especially true for the alpha kids but really applies to pretty much everyone. sometimes the story will hint at knowledge that we can trust as fact straight up, i.e. rose explaining how dead/void sessions work in A6I2, but this is definitely not always the case and personally i think it helps a lot w/ analysis to be able to be explicitly aware of this, especially since imo a lot of misconceptions about the alpha kids stems from this kind of thing

anyways, some interesting cases that come out of this view:

calliope: calliope technically has knowledge of the Forms through how she is basically just a reader of homestuck, but because of that very same perspective she's also not a fully trustworthy narrator since 1. her version of the story is explicitly heavily redacted, and 2. she's in the same position as the audience in trying to piece everything together, meaning that all of her "lore" is really just theories that she's put together herself

terezi: i'm not sure what to make of mind as an aspect, especially in conjunction to light. i'm actually inclined to say this is, like, knowledge of shadows Plus since a lot of what we see w/ terezi is basically just knowledge of every possible timeline? maybe it would be better to put knowledge of aspects into a subcategory of knowledge of Forms, since aspects are kinda like laws of the fictional universe. the fact that mind is specifically put as complementary to heart (and therefore souls/identity) is also a really interesting idea and i wanna explore that more, it's such a weird aspect especially when you have light and all of its connotations right there. (the knowledge of aspects as subcategory might also help in making sense of sollux's mage of doom shit, and also the fact that john is like pure intuition, very fitting of the heir of breath)

gamzee: gamzee's whole breakdown is basically just him gaining knowledge of the Forms and getting pissed about it (getting dragged out of the cave and not being happy with the world he sees and/or the implications that has for the shadows he had relied on for his religion previously) but i almost feel like there should be more to this since clowns are so fucking weird in general w/ all of the meta shit. it almost feels wrong to call gamzee a character after his icp-induced mind break, he loses his personality so strongly to the point of just becoming a fuckin plot device.

in conclusion: i need to talk more about dirk strider. LATER later

[redframedlips]

Getting Hitched

“I can’t believe how big this house is,” you say as you trail behind Spinner and Jane. “Declan is so lucky.”

“Right?” Jane agrees. “I thought the same thing when I first saw it.”

“This isn’t your first time here?” Spinner asked, glancing at his girlfriend. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jane says quickly, her eyes widening for a second before she takes Spinner’s hand in hers. “When Declan and I had that project for school. I told you about it, remember?”

He looked in thought for a second, using his free hand to slide open the door. “Right,” he trailed off, seeming to have completely forgotten that she ever told him about the ‘project’. 

Jane quickly looked away from him. “Oh! There’s Holly J,” she said, pulling her hand from his. “I’m going to change really quickly.” She reached up and pecked Spinner’s cheek before taking off across the backyard, disappearing inside a tent. 

You, having watched the whole exchange, furrowed your brows as you stood next to your close friend. “That was weird,” 

“Yeah,” he said, looking over at the tent before his eyes locked onto the sizable barbeque. “Hey, there’s Declan.” 

His hand brushes your arm as he steps away from you. 

“I’m gonna go say hi,”

“Okay,” you say back, crossing your arms over your tank top covered chest. You glance around the backyard, your eyes meeting Peter’s.

“Hey, Y/n!” He said from his place in the pool.

You smile back, walking over and sitting down on the edge. Seeing as you weren’t in your bathing suit, you only drop your legs in the water, letting it cool your skin from the hot sun. “Hi, Pete,”

He floats next to your legs, splashing you a bit. “I thought you weren’t coming?” He asks. “Thought Spin had to work.”

“He did, but Emma’s back in town and he, like, hired her or something,” you tell him. “She took over his shift.”

“Ah,” he says, pouring a handful of water on your legs. “You should come in.”

“Yeah,” you trail off, looking over at the tent that was being used as a change room. “Maybe I’ll do that.” 

You stand up, accidently bumping into Spinner as you do so. “Careful,” he laughs, his hands stopping you from stumbling any further. “Are you going in?”

“I was thinking of it,” 

The two of you start walking towards the tent. “Nice,” he grinned at you. “Mind if I join you after I get Holly J’s order? Declan can’t grill anything right, even if you paid him.”

You laugh, bumping your shoulder into his. “Of course I don’t mind,”

As you near the tent, you both hear a sharp gasp that sounded an awful lot like Jane. You share a confused look before Spinner reaches out to the tent. “Yes, it’s still raw,” Jane says. “Let’s just say I won’t be swimming in Declan’s pool.”

Spinner’s brow raised slightly then he shakes his head, glancing back at you as Holly J speaks up, “You’ve taken that dip before,”

Your ears perk up at that, your eyes shooting to meet Spinners. “Wow, are we really talking about this?”

“Hey, it worked out for both of us,” Holly J says and Jane hummed in agreement. “Spinner never found out, Declan and I fell in love, plus I think the boys are even bonding over fire.”

“Thank God it went into the vault, huh?” You could hear the relief in Jane’s voice. You bite down on your bottom lip, your hand reaching out to graze your friends. 

“As if Declan’s going to brag to Spinner about sleeping with you,” Holly J laughs. 

“I’m so done with high school drama,”

You stop listening after that, tugging on Spinner’s hand. “Come on, Spin,” you say quietly. “Let’s just go.”

He stood there, still as a statute as he took in his girlfriend’s words. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the tent’s wall was pushed open.

“Spin!” Jane’s cheery voice cut through the silence. “Hey, what’s the matter? You afraid of a little horse- what?” She cut herself off when Spinner pushed her off him. 

He glared at her, his hand slipping from yours as his entire body tensed up. “You think I’m stupid, Jane?”

Jane tucks her hair behind her ear, confusion on her face. “Okay, what? What is wrong?”

You share a look with Holly J, who had stepped out of the tent as well. She looked equally as confused, and you looked equally as pissed. “Good old Spinner won’t even know,” he muttered.

“Know what?”

It seemed like Jane’s genuine confusion was his last straw as he steps towards her. “I heard you!” He yelled, pointing to the tent behind her. “In there, talking about Declan. You had sex with him, didn’t you?”

Jane’s eyes immediately filled with tears as she shook her head. “It didn’t mean anything, I swear. I swear, Spinner,”

“How long?” He asked, Jane’s heartbroken face adding fuel to the rage that was burning inside him. “How long did you guys..”

“Two weeks,” Jane answered, making Spinner close his eyes as he stepped away from her. “It was months ago and that’s what I’m trying to say. It’s over. It’s so over, Spinner.”

Holly J meets your eyes, a guilty look on her face as you shake your head at her. Some friend she was.

“So everything since then, every minute has been a lie?” Spinner’s emotions were beginning to get the best of him, you could tell by the way his voice was beginning to break. 

“No,” Jane whimpered, glancing behind her very angry boyfriend. Spinner looked behind him as well, his anger growing at the sight of the guy who helped him get cheated on. “No, no, Spin, don’t.” Jane was too late as Spinner had already punched Declan square in the face, knocking the boy down to the ground. 

“Spinner!” Holly J yelled, making him whip back around and point at her. 

“Oh, shut up!” He screamed, making her put a hand on her mouth. You take a second to look down at Declan, who looked baffled beyond belief. “You knew about this!”

Jane shook her head, tears freely flowing down her face as she stared at her furious boyfriend. 

“Good luck, with the rest of your life,” he said, backing away from Jane, his eyes broken and angry at the same time. 

“Please,” Jane’s words weren’t even audible at this point. 

“I’m glad it’s happening far away from mine,” with that, he turned around and stormed off towards the house.

You shake your head as Jane starts sobbing. Holly J wraps her arms around her as you take off after your heartbroken friend. 

“Spinner!” You call out as you exit through the front door. You reached his car just as he started the engine, your hands placed firmly on the passenger’s side window. “Where are you going?”

“Away from here,” he said, his eyes staring forward as heavy breaths left his mouth. “You can come if you want, but I can’t be here a minute longer.”

At that, you quickly open the door and sit beside him. As soon as the door was closed, his right hand was placed on the back of your seat. He expertly reversed out of the crowded driveway and sped off towards town. 

You couldn’t believe Jane. How could she hurt him in the worst possible way when he was nothing but good to her? 

The silence was beginning to become unbearable, but you also didn’t know what to say.  “Spin-”

“Did you know about this?” He cuts you off and you physically move back at his question, as if it was an attack on your person. 

“What?” You ask, trying not to sound offended when it was he who just had his heart thrown on the ground. “No. I didn’t know about it.”

He glanced over at you, his hard and cold features softening for a second as you met his eyes. “No,” he repeated, more so to himself. “Of course you wouldn’t know about this. You’re not like them.”

You refrain from grabbing his hand that was tightly gripping the steering wheel. “Spinner,” you say quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

He looks over at you again, his hurt and teary eyes finding comfort in yours. Before he could say anything, the sound of sirens filled the air, making him look forward again. “Woah,” he stopped the car outside The Dot. Or what was left of it. 

Your eyes widen as you take in the scene before you. “What the-”

Spinner was out of the car the second it was turned off. 

“Spinner!” Emma said breathlessly as she ran over to him, her face covered in dirt and grime. 

“What’s going on?!” He asked as you rounded the front of the car, your eyes fixated on the smoke that left the building in dark clouds. 

“Spinner I am so sorry,” Emma nearly cried. “I already called 911.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “Spinner, everyones fine. The sandwich maker-”

“I told you not to touch it,” he said, his eyes flickering from her to the building behind her. 

“I know! I know,” she said, rushing off to the side to where Manny was standing. 

“Oh, my God,” were the only words you could mutter as the sirens grew louder. 

Spinner glanced over at you, his arm reaching out to you. He pulled you back so you were standing next to him.

“It might not be that bad,” as soon as Emma said that, an explosion was heard and all the windows gave out, shattering glass in every direction. Spinner’s arm was around your neck in less than a second, moving your body so it was mostly covered by his. 

Bits and pieces of glass hit your backs, but nothing drew blood. You pulled away once it was safe to do so, your heart dropping to your stomach at the broken look on Spinner’s face. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, brushing the rocks and shards from your shoulders. 

“I’m fine,” you say, taking his hand in yours as you both look over at The Dot. 

Or, once again, what was left of it.

~

“This has been the worst week of my life,” Spinner muttered as you entered the bar. 

“I know,” you say sadly, running your hand up and down his arm. “But luckily, there are ways to make it better.”  You extend your arm out to the many bottles of alcohol that line the shelves behind the bar. 

“I don’t know,” he trailed off. “Getting wasted just because I got my heart broken? Doesn't sound like me.”

“Would you rather go back home and sit on your couch for the rest of the night while you know who blows up your phone?”

“No, not really,”

“Then hush,” you grab his hand and take him over to the bar. 

One drink in and you were hardly feeling the effects that come with drinking alcohol. But, Spinner seemed to be in a much better mood, thankfully, so you had nothing to complain about. 

He looks over at you, an unreadable look on his face. “Thank you for not leaving me alone since, well, you know what,” he says quietly. “I thought I needed some time away from everyone, but I guess I just needed you.”

You grin at him, copying his position by placing your elbow on the bar top, your head resting against your palm. “No problem,”

He stares at you, a small smile forming on his lips. “God, you are beautiful,”

Your face heats up as you turn away from him. “I didn’t know you were such a lightweight,” you joke, running your finger around the rim of the glass. 

“I’m not,” he said, reaching over to grab your free hand with his. “I don’t know why I’ve never told you that before.”

You shrug. “It’s no big deal. You were in a relationship for a long time,” you murmur. “You’re not too bad looking yourself.”

Spinner laughs, the sound bringing a smile to your face. “Do you want to do something really stupid?” He asks, leaning closer to you. “Like, really stupid?”

You hum. “Depends on what it is,” He moved even closer to the point where he was now hovering over the bar stool. His hand caresses your face as he leans down. Without warning, his lips press to yours. You sit in shock for a second before you pull away, keeping your face close to his. “Why did you do that?” You nearly whisper. 

“Impulse, I guess,” he muttered back, brushing his nose against yours. “Do you want to do something even more stupid and impulsive?” 

“Yes,” you answer quickly. 

“Let’s go get married,” he said, surprising you. “Right now.”

You look at him in shock. “Now that is a stupid idea,” you say against his mouth, kissing him again. “But I’m all in.”

And that was how you found yourself running down the streets of Niagara Falls, your hand clasped in Spinner’s, a shiny, but cheap, ring on your finger. “Did we just do that?” You asked as you stopped outside the hotel. 

“I think we did,” he said, grinning down at you, his hand tightening around you. “How could I have been so blind all this time? All I could have ever wanted has been right in front of me, all this time.”

You stand on the tips of your toes, brushing your lips against his. “Sometimes, life can surprise us,” you shrug. “I’m scared, though. What if you wake up tomorrow, with a much clearer mind, and regret this? We just got married without even dating first. What if this doesn’t work out?”

He grinned again, kissing you properly. Your back presses to the bricked wall behind you, your hands moving up to tug on his hair. “I love you, Y/n,” he said. “I think I always have.”

His words make your head fuzzy, a calmness taking over your body.

“We’ve been friends for years, and we’ve made it this far,” he points out. “And if you wake up and want to get a divorce or annulment or whatever, that’s totally fine, but I know that I won’t want to. I wasted enough time with the wrong people.”

You shake your head, your hand trailing his chest. “I love you, too, Spinner,” you say back. “I know I always have.”

“Does this mean you’re now officially Y/n Mason?”

“I think it does,”

“Wow,” he said, his fingers gently holding your chin. He tilted your head upwards, his forehead resting against yours. “I can’t believe you’re my wife.”

“I can’t, either,” you say before kissing him again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer to you. 

Sometimes life really can surprise you.