#i love Rosh with my whole heart

[enjoythesilentworld]

there are a lot of good cunty lines in yr but my favorite is when Rosh finds out the boys have seen Kim K’s tape and she goes “Har du sett den???”

[justanotherhyperfixation]

Rewatching season 1 of Young Royals made me understand even more why it was so difficult for Simon to trust Wilhelm in season 2. 

Like Wilhelm in that scene above, I mainly had in mind Wilhelm’s denial of the video, which was a hard betrayal for Simon but something that Wilhelm objectively couldn’t have done differently at the time.

But i kinda had forgotten how Simon’s trust was sorely tested in season one, not just at the end with the video denial but throughout the whole season. Wilhelm is changing his mind repeatedly in the first season and this accumulation of alternation of hope and disappointment really does explain Simon’s exhaustion and his reluctance to trust Wilhelm in season 2. And it’s by making a tiny list of those moments that i realize how many of them there were.

1. 

In episodes 1 and 2, Wilhelm wants to spend time with Simon at school and outside, they hang out together at the party, in Bjärstad and go to Rosh’s football game, Wilhelm seems to have a truly great time with Simon and his friends. But then he asks Simon to delete his instagram story showing the nice moment they spent together.

2.

At the end of episode 2, Wilhelm is the one touching Simon’s thigh, he’s smiling when they intertwine their fingers. But then Simon kisses him and Wilhelm says ‘he’s not ... (like that)’.

3.

Wilhelm ends up holding back Simon and kisses him. But then in the beginning of episode 3, he asks Simon to forget about what happened.

4.

Later on during gym class, Wilhelm takes what he said back and asks Simon to spend the weekend with him at Hillerska, just the two of them, he even meets Simon’s mom. But then (ok his brother died in between but still, it’s from Simon’s perspective) Wilhelm asks Simon to delete all their texts and says ‘he can’t do this anymore’.

5.

In episode 4, Wilhelm calls Simon in the middle of the night, declares his love, Simon rescues him, they spend the night together, share their feelings and have sex. An intimate bond and a relationship of trust has been built between them. But then in episode 5, Wilhelm tells Simon he’s not sure he will have his back for the drug incident, that he might have to stick with the rich boys’ plan in order to protect himself.

6.

And finally in episode 6, they’re very supportive of each other after the video was leaked and Wilhelm tells Simon he won’t make a statement about it. But then he does and denies it, letting Simon alone in the scandal. 

I love Wilhelm with all my heart and as viewers we know his inner struggles, all the pressure he's under, what he has to fight against to be with Simon, and that he indeed made a lot of brave decisions all along. But seeing it from Simon’s perspective, boy I’ll be tired and very unsure too. 

Each time, Wilhelm did end up being on Simon’s side, and season 1 ends with Wilhelm telling Simon he’s in love with him and showing it publicly by hugging him in front of the whole school. But all Wilhelm actions and decisions during the season did come with a moment of second guessing. And this is hard for Simon, to continuously feel that he’s not an obvious choice and with no assurance that he will be. And none of this is to put any blame on Wilhelm, he does his best but it doesn’t make it any less difficult to handle for Simon. 

Because Simon is also well aware that, even if Wilhelm do not want to be part of the world he was born in and is critical of it, he will always have a spot reserved for him in it and will always be encouraged to choose the royal life. He could at any point go back to it, deciding to stick to traditions, to erase everything he had lived with Simon. Their situations are not equal and Wilhelm needed to prove harder to Simon how serious he was about his feelings because of that. And that’s what Wilhelm did in season 2.

[the-amber-fox]

Young Royals Fic Rec List 2023

The holidays are coming early for this lovely fandom. I present you my favourite fanfics from this year to tide us all over until season 3.

Canon / Missing Moments

a running start (T) by This_time_its_just_me It’s so surreal to see him standing here in the Palace, in the Royal apartments where Wille had grown up through all the good and the bad of his life. It’s an image he couldn't have imagined, not in the sheer unremarkable and yet truly remarkable way it feels in reality. Sure he’d conjured up images of him, ghosts of memories and fantasies tangled together in a love-sick teenager's ache of loss. However, this is him here, pragmatic and tangible and real and it’s just difficult to wrap his mind around it.

Post Canon (maybe)

The equation of you Whiterabbit11 Simon is hurt and unconscious at the local hospital. Rosh watches, Ayub sleeps, and Wille is not happy.

All my loving (I will send to you) (M) @pagegirlintraining „Especially now that they’d been happily dating again for nearly ten months, Simon could’ve easily just teased Wille about being a drama queen and then kissed the pout off his lips. He didn’t, though. Instead, he kept staring at Wille’s handwriting, usually scrawly but now tidy and precise, feeling his heart slowly break for the sad, lonely boy who’d written and never sent this letter all those months ago.”

Baby, We Are Front-Page News (M) Ripki When Wille says, it was me, in front of the whole school – in front of the whole world – Simon feels simultaneously light with joy and leaden with trepidation. Once again, he is suddenly thrust from obscurity into spotlight, from normalcy into absurdity. He is certain though that together he and Wille can face anything. However, that is soon put to test, when a hurtful article about Simon hits the press.

no need for verbier (NR) starrystoryteller simon finds out about verbier

Fix Its

The daisy follows soft the sun (G) @romanticalrj Simon has two dark red seeds inked into his skin just below his belly button. He has always had them. He doesn’t remember a time when he looked into the mirror and that pair of burgundy seeds weren’t staring back at him. To Simon, the marks are an obligation. He doesn’t ever want to be tied to someone in this irreversible, caging way. But, as in most things in his life, Simon doesn’t get a choice. The seeds sit and sit on his belly for years, ignored and hidden and resented.

AUs

Ivy (M) unfortunate17 Wilhelm raises his eyebrows as well. ���Pirate Captain Simon Eriksson.” He watches as Simon swallows, stepping forward to set the coins down on the countertop. He still smells like the ocean, Wilhelm notes vaguely, like sunshine and sea-salt. Ayub looks between the two of them, alarm twisting across his features until Wille sighs. “I’m not here to arrest anyone.”

obviously (M) grapehyasynth In their final year of secondary school, Simon and Wille find themselves entering a potent, secret relationship that threatens to upend both their lives. It can't last, but neither can they stop being a part of each other's lives. Over the next few years, even as everything around them changes, even as they hurt and lose each other, they keep finding themselves drawn together. Normal People AU.

Can you see me now? (T) kimmeke wilhelm needs eye surgery and has no one to help him with his recovery. he turns to his only option left: his next door neighbor simon

You're Still the One (M) queerfrogprince Simon and Wille meet on tumblr as teenagers, but when they lose contact, Simon doesn't think he'll ever hear from Wille again, much less bump into him in a supermarket in Stockholm one random afternoon. It's been five years, after all. He barely even thinks about Wille anymore. But, it seems, Wille never stopped thinking about him. Maybe it's not too late to rekindle what they had at fifteen, after all.

Hetero of the Year @girls-are-weird Prince Wilhelm is nominated for the Hetero of the Year award at the QX Gay Gala. In response, he freaks out. Simon, his popstar friend who's been pining for him for the better part of a year, worries this might mean Wille's secretly homophobic. After all, what other reason could there be for him to get so upset?

Slightly unhinged - but so worth it

Sorry this is awkward, I didn’t mean to airdrop that to you (T) @piebingo Wille accidentally airdrops his own fanfiction to a stranger in the library. (Written for the yr week 2023, the prompt of day 2: Alternate Meeting)

fighting dragons with you (T) burntromacesea “You have another knight in shining armor come to rescue you from my evil clutches and my murderous dragon,” Simon comments blandly, handing his husband a cup of coffee, “he should be here by this afternoon.” https://archiveofourown.org/works/45092605

Simon-Appreciation-Posts (T) DrogonTheDragon Wille didn't mean for it to blow up as it did. He didn’t.  … or Wille makes a secret Simon Eriksson fan account and it gets a lot more attention than he intended.

Of Dinosaurs, Unicorns and the Perfect Proposal (G) @groenendaelfic Five-year-old Wilhelm steals his Mamma’s engagement ring to propose to Simon. Linda questions her life choices.

E - Rated

One, two, three, four, five, sex on my mind (E) pagegirlintraining, TheAmberFox When Wille first sees Simon, the rest of the world simply fades away. Which would be romantic and all, if it didn’t lead to him blindly stumbling into the sex shop Simon works at. Once he figures out his mistake, it’s already too late. But Wille wouldn’t be Wille if he let that stop him from pursuing the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen. If only things didn’t keep getting in the way of his plans…

Fuck the Monarchy (E) itsme_hi_imtheproblem Simon and Wille get stuck with each other when they both intern at the riksdag. Wille is intent to just get this dreaded thing over with. Simon can't believe he of all people has to work not only with an old conservative but with the literal prince. Both are surprised by the inexplicable and inevitable pull they feel towards each other.

say my name, say it loud (E) margosfairyeye (Skittery) The argument scene in the locker room in s02e04, but this time there's sex. (inspired by how much I thought there was going to be a spicy scene when I saw Simon come out in that towel)

Three Floors Down (E) emerybemery Simon hates how he can’t keep his eyes off Wille whenever he sees him. He hates how Wille seems to stare back at him with a borderline intoxicating intensity.

A Marvellous Time Ruining Everything @earlgrey-lateatnight Henry accidentally witnesses an intimate moment between Wille and Simon. How will they deal with the fallout?

The darker stuff Watch out for the trigger warnings and tags.

when you find me, let me in (G) paintersong Simon winced with guilt as Wille’s wide eyes traced his laptop. “Crown Prince Wilhelm Denies Involvement in Viral Sex Video” glared back, and Wille blinked, stepping away from the screen, away from Simon, away from the sting of betrayal.

Everybody loves you now (M) lc2l International pop sensation Simme has announced on Instagram that he will be celebrating the end of his sold out world tour with five consecutive shows in Stockholm starting TONIGHT and running through the week. This will be his first extended stay in Sweden in four years, since he graduated from high school and flew to L.A. to sign a record deal. And what is Wilhelm supposed to do with that.

In Another Life (E) @ungaroyals Wilhelm never returned to Hillerska after winter break, and he has spent his entire life regretting it. Nearly a decade later, he runs into Simon. He had hoped he'd successfully moved on from his feelings after all these years, but clearly, he was wrong. The two spend a passionate night together, expecting it to be their last. That is until it happens a second time when the two come arrangement that suits both their needs. Friends with benefits? No, they'd have to actually be friends for that to be the case. So this is it for this year. I must confess I did not have time to read everything. So if you have things that are missing in this list put them in the comments please. I also don't know everyones tumblr, so feel free to share with your mutuals.

The list from 2022 you can find here

[redleavesinthewind]

For the YR secondary ask game: 1, 2, 18, 19

1 was answered here

2. Favorite secondary romantic and/or sexual pairing

fredrika and stella. my fondness for henry and walter didn’t manifest until i actually read a fic about them out of curiosity, but stella and fredrika have always been in my mind. i don’t interact with fandom much tbh, but i did find out that stedrika got a lot of hate and i never entirely got why. this might also just be because stella specifically makes a lot of sense to me. she’s not a nice person but frankly, not many teenagers are. she and fredrika both are also very entrenched in the lives and beliefs of the upper class, but i’m not going to judge them for it when that’s all they’ve known so far. if you think about it, it was part of their upbringing, they’re in boarding school, surrounded by people with the same values and experiences, they’ve never properly been in the real world. obviously there’s no guarantee that they’ll ever be willing to learn/ become better people, but there’s also no guarantee that they won’t. they’re teenagers and i’m willing to give them some grace. but i digress. what i actually wanted to say. i like stella and fredrika. the whole being in love with your best friend is a very queer experience, one i can relate to, and i found myself rooting for them quite easily. also there’s not enough sapphic pairings around so i will be protective over them

18. Favorite fic centered on a secondary character or pairing

haha the one and only other people’s secrets by @sflow-er. first i know there’s wilmon in there but the focus is very much on henry and henry/walter. it’s what got me into the ship and i love henry’s characterisation in it so much

i’ve also got to talk about AnxiousAnaconda’s A Royal Intervention and their portrayal of erik. it was the first fic i found where erik isn’t the perfect older brother so many people see him as (i don’t fault them for portraying him that way i get it, i just can’t get behind it). so at the time i read this fic it was very refreshing and a little validating to get a characterisation of erik that’s a bit more realistic

19. Shout out a fanfic author for their writing of a secondary character (or characters) in a subplot

this one was also tricky for me to answer, because it’s been a while since i read yr fic (any fic really) and i don’t necessarily remember subplots. however i do need to mention yourself and @heliza24 for Heart and Homeland, specifically for getting me into felice/rosh! their dynamic is excellent and a lot of fun.

other one that comes to mind is The Darkest Little Paradise by @yourdemiurge which is a bit of an outlier i’d say. every character is technically ooc, but in a way that still makes a lot of sense? it’s like they’re all the worst version of themselves. i do quite like the way felice is written in this, and erik is incredibly unhinged and honestly great fun

[domtheforestgnome]

Some moments in season 3 of Young Royals that stand out for me ep.2

Here's link when I share moments from season 1

I have some free time now, and there is ALWAYS a good time for rewatch of Young Royals, so here we go episode 2. I'm sharing outstanding moments from season 3, that made me gasped, yelped or laughed. This show is so dear to me. Hope you'll enjoy :) Have a nice Sunday :3

The beggining!

At first I cringed a little bc I thought Wille's talking to the picture, but then we hear Simon's voice and my heart melted. Also, this whole scene made me balance on the edge of cringe bc I was with my friends while watching, but... well... Wilmon is just too lovely and soft for that, so yeah more melting body and heart from this scene.

2. I will repeat - The Music

Always the music <3 It just flushes into my soul and meander there with whole show emotion package. Ugh! I love it.

3. The casual pretty packed racism Felice is facing from the headmistress of the school...

It was the same kind of discrimination words as Kristina said to Wille in season 2 about him being the first one who decided to start unconventional relationship. It is said smooth and soft and It's even more disguising bc of that.

So I just screamed when I saw Felice's reaction. Go girl! They won't fvck with you! It was also very thoughful way of relieving the emotions by creators. I like that.

4. Them

So soft and casual <3

5. New choir member

I'm still kicking my feet while watching this.

And then...

Wille is so gone for Simon. My teeth are gonna decay because of the amount of the sugar this season. And it hits even more bc of how much they suffered in previous seasons.

6. The moment I realised

that when August and Nils were 1rst years in Hillerska, Erik was a third year student. I gasped.

7. The fight

Up until this moment the series is just walking around talking about how jokes are used as excuses of violence, yet here we go again. I burst out laughting.

And then the knowing Erik thing.

It's just so satisfying how August repeats the sentence without any shame. It felt good. In time, extremely quick answer. Ohh, I LOVE THIS SERIES.

8. Simon being done with looking after Sara

and being honest about it with his mom. I think this season Linda hears lots of uncomfortable words from Simon, but he needs to let it out and she need to hear it so it felt good also how is he saying that. We can hear how tired and pissed he is. I'm proud.

9. More speaking up about what we could witness in previous seasons

I just screamed "THANK YOU!"

10. Small moment for nonbinary people.

I felt seen. <3

I know that the show is not about that, but just this small moment of acknowledgement for us - pure bliss <3

11. Feliece the biggest support for the gays

Idk I was just happy with this, probably bc of all the stories in fanfiction hahaha. My favourite combination :3

12. And the Rosh and Ayub!

Like - them all in one place finally! My heart, the joy, I can't, I loved it.

13. And the Roshella - Noone expeted it, yet everyone needed. My computer can't handle it so no screeshot from this scene. But I love the way the showed it, the close ups, and the Fredrikas face. Chefs kiss :D

And then I was getting more and more angry. So, I'm ending this post here.

Haha, also I need to go to work, so that's it.

Take care!

[romanarose]

Life update if anyone cares.

I only post this bc i was posting my depressing shit for months and a lot of people were reaching out in concern <3

cw sever depression, self harm, suicide, csa, SA, all the bad. but also lots of good <3

TLDR: Despite a god-awful semester, i got all a's and b's

Everyone thats been following me the last few months has seem my personal posts about how fucking awful things have been for me.

I've dealt with fact I can no longer deny that what happened to me was CSA, despite being on a milder side of things. That sparked an absolutely spiral. I didnt sleep for months which made things worse. School, I got an F on a midterm and i NEVER get F's on writing assignments.

Work had its complications and i quit and then rescinded that quit two days later. I was so constantly depressed in my dorm my roommate literally told me i needed to go to the basketball game with them bc i was sitting in a depression hovel none stop. I only went to services twice this whole time, one shabbat and once for Rosh Hoshannah.

I burned the ever living fuck out of my fingers, yall remember that one? lol.

In novemeber i had relapsed so severely on self harm i thought i had accidentally killed myself. I should've called 911. I thought I was bleeding out and/or going into shock. I then worked myself up more by going down pages of the internet about medical shook and people dying from it. that did not help my heart rate. I couldn't stand, I couldnt see straight for a while.

I could not afford an ambulance or a hospital stay as i am uninsured and only ork 25 hours a week. not a lot of money.

All this happened and I didn't miss work. This is not a brag, this is me not being able to makegood choices for myself.

Finally, thanksgiving break hit. Thank fucking god. I WANTED to use those 4 days of absolutely nothing to get to my TWO BIG RESEARCH PAPERS I HADNT STRTED YET but alas, I was SICK. I was so sick, in fact, and so hoped up on cough medicine for 3 days i was incomprehensible.

I was so physically ill, i couldnt even think about how mentally ill i was. I slept and slept and slept. And by the time sunday hit, I felt so recharged.

My failed midterm was so bad and so not me my professsor reached out to me. Im close with him (in a v appropriate way lol, hes a bruce springsteen fan too) and i felt comfortable telling him essentially that for a few months there things were severe, and I really should've gone in for a 72 hour hold multiple times and i was not safe. through a few lines of resources, I ended up back in therapy bc my school added a new therapist that is a woman (i stopped going last year bc i didnt like seeing a man)

I like my new therapist.

Anway, in about 2 weeks I wrote 2 12 page research papers, 2 book report papers, 1 science paper did 2 presentations, took 2 finals, wrote 2 more finals with essay questions, and at the end of it all, not only did I not fail any classes...

I GOT ALL A'S AND B'S! Which means my gpa is still high enough to renew my scholarship for my last year

I am so fucking proud of myself for accomplishing all this despite suffering so fucking badly. I havnt felt pain like that in years, just agony.

I had a down turn again over christmas bc my siblings were literally ass, upto and including making fun of me for not ating (i am multiple accounts of sexual trauma from several people, so im scared of dating), making fun of my eating, and my sister slapping me and my older brother hitting me. Was a bad time. But for right now, im in the place im staying for break (all january) im back at my old day care and they love me, and olive garden at this store has been going great

Im hoping next semester to be better, im hopful at least

Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who has supported my writing has supported me through these times. It makes me happy that i came her to share my silly little moon knight x reader series, not really intending on writing a whole lot, but next thing i know, i have friends and a lil community. so thank you <3

[bluedalahorse]

What is this midnight sun bullshit???

(also hi :)

Hi friend! I have returned from Colorado.

Ooh, I’m glad you asked about this one.

So “what is this midnight sun bullshit” was a file started in the autumn of 2021, shortly after I’d posted Terrain Boundaries Territory to A03. Good lord, I wrote TBT before I learned how to punctuate poetry. I am much better at poems now. Also there’s just some really early show weirdness in it! Season 1 had just aired and we might have barely heard that season 2 was happening, but had minimal idea of what it would involve.

Anyway. Terrain Boundaries Territory is basically about Sara infiltrating the circle of elite kids to become August’s girlfriend so she can find out his dark secrets and get revenge on him for what he did to Simon. Of course, there is also some lingering attraction and horniness wrapped up in that angry plan. August falls in love with Sara when they’re together, and she realizes the best revenge she can get is thoroughly breaking his heart.

Now, I was writing this immediately post season 1. From my past fannish lurking, it seemed like most fans thought it impossible that August would ever fall in love with Sara, and fall in love with her hard and fast. However, I was convinced that he would fall in love with her in season 2, though I didn’t know exactly what that would look like. I could just feel it in my gut.

So I started writing this fic as August’s B-side to Terrain Boundaries Territory. I wanted to understand the process of him falling in love with Sara, and also just how his brain worked. The more I started writing in his POV the more I enjoyed it, even if it was a messed up, thorny place. Also, there was a whole subplot where August’s mother Louise was Kristina’s Unfortunate Romance during their teens.

I called the file “what is this midnight sun bullshit” as an allusion to the time Stephenie Meyer rewrote Twilight from Edward Cullen’s POV. Note: I have never read a Twilight book in my life. However, back when I could drink, I would sneak mini bottles of vodka into the movie theatre, dump them into a slushie, and drunkwatch the Twilight movies. Hence me using the reference.

ANYWAY. I am including an excerpt of the midnight sun bullshit in question below, so you can get a sense of the generally angry-horny-angsty vibes that dominated this fic.

Shortly before this scene, August got hit in the face and learned a little bit about Sara having been bullied by kids at Marieberg. He also learned that Rosh and Ayub are Simon’s friends, but that Sara thinks they’re only nice to her because of Simon, and wouldn’t like her otherwise.

Now, Sara and August are hiding away in August’s room. Simon and Felice happen to be away on a choir trip, and have just posted a selfie of the two of them together.

—

Sara swipes up, then down, before an image stops her. Simon and Felice side by side in their Hillerska uniforms—on their way back from the choral festival, probably. Simon’s got his elbows on the table like no parent’s ever told him off for it, and Felice has left behind her pizza crusts on her plate. They’re laughing together. Friendly. Friends?

Sara draws a ripped-apart-heart curve around the edge of the picture of Simon and Felice. She presses her lips together, tight.

“What are you thinking?” August asks her.

“Only that I’m so angry,” Sara answers. “All the time.”

“I know.” Now August leans closer. “Me too.”

He kisses her, like really kisses her, like for once it isn’t to say notice me but instead I understand. Sara is the only mirror August can stand to look at right now, if he can call her that, and part of him wants to drown in all of her—their—fucked up emotions. She’s kissing him back as many times as he kisses her, giggles in the gaps between. Then Sara dips down, presses her mouth to his neck, does something with her lips and teeth that will leave a mark, the way he’s only done to girls before. August’s breath catches. Things are even more fucked now because he didn’t even know he was into that, or what it means that he’s into that. He wraps his hands around Sara’s, coaxing her phone out from between her fingers. Pulls away.

The phone is already lighting up with another text from Felice, so August sets it face down on his nightstand. He opens the nightstand drawer and takes out a box of condoms, glances sideways at his window and checks to make sure he closed the curtains.

He looks back at Sara, reminds himself how much she hates euphemisms. Asks if she wants to have sex.

“Okay. We can do that.” Sara scoots closer and pinches the hem of his shirt. “As long as your face doesn’t hurt too much.”

“I’m fine.” What August actually means is, I really don’t care about my face right now, and that’s rare enough that it might translate to fine.

Sara kisses him again, which gives way to touching skin and tangling arms and legs and everything else together. The physical release of being with her should be enough. Should be, except. After everything, when Sara’s noticed the time, and after August has watched her pull her clothes back on and arrange her hair, and long after she’s gone back to the working class house she can’t stand, and after lights out has been called in the Hillerska dorms—after all that, August can’t bring himself to sleep in the center of his mattress. Awake, with his back pressed against the cold wall, he observes the space where he wishes Sara still was. He doesn’t even dare smooth down the wrinkles she left behind on the bedsheets.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

hanukkah bingo 2023

Fic or Art/Graphic Title: alone in the dark, prologue: “If I Were a Rich Man” Author/Artist Name: josiebelladonna Fandom: Testament (Band) Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Alex Skolnick (and how) Bingo Squares Being Filled: h3 (music), h4 (tradition), h5 (first night), a2 (snow), n2 (family), n4 (survival), u4 (winter), h2 (yiddish) Rating: (chapter) Teen and Up; (fic in general) Mature Warning(s): Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Link to Work: x (p.s., no idea why ao3 isn’t letting me add this to the collection, like it’s not showing up in the drop-down menu when i try to add it in) @aimmyarrowshigh

notes: hey, y’all! i’m a gentile girl participating in this little challenge here because i love you guys and am fiercely defensive of you, and i want to introduce you all to the light of my life and the fire of my loins, alex. this fic is flirty, kinky, and very inappropriate so please be careful while reading. i also wrote this fic for nanowrimo this year! 🔥

I was certain that I could get back home to be with my parents and my brother over in Scarsdale and the new house a couple of blocks over by the temple, and I was certain that I could reach the neighborhood by the time the snow piled into the area. I had promised to, at the very least, visit for the holiday before I made the bold move across the country to be closer to my parents in particular. I had missed Rosh Hashanah back in September because of money, but this time I was determined, and I wanted to be closer to my parents, and it couldn’t have come at a better time, either, as I was alone in California at that point. Then again, there was a part of me that had no idea if I wanted to do that: so much work to do, and I needed to lay my head down every now and again like everyone else. My parents understood the daunting task that faced me, but I still had that obligation upon my first visit.

Regardless of my own indolence, they were getting older, and I was as well. It was time to do something drastic, and something that, I knew in my heart, would help me forever. It all would help me forever.

But I never did reach there on time, and the whole affair had left me wanting more of it all. Maybe I was greedy, but I would admit to it, though.

I was such a mess at the time, and the delays only made me more of a mess. It was times like this where I couldn’t stop to say that I had survived another year without having my throat slit so I can eat, either. This was something else. This was something that brought me elsewhere.

I was flying into New York from the Bay Area the weekend before the first night of Hanukkah, which, much to my dismay, coincided with the week after Thanksgiving. I had missed most of the crowds on the Wednesday and Thursday prior, but I still knew it was going to be hell because I was leaving on that Saturday, before everyone went home, so I had to hustle and go with the flow regardless of anything. I needed to fly in from California to see my parents, especially for that year as my relationship had ended over the summer and I spent what money I had on my person before my next paycheck from the gigs I could scrounge up to keep my head above water for the time being. I had missed Thanksgiving with them all because I didn't get paid yet, and thus, I knew in my heart of hearts that I needed to be home, to clear my head, to heal my heart and my mind, and to feel like myself again.

I was out of Testament: I had left almost two years prior when my relationship remained in good shape and she was the first person I told about my decision to leave all because I needed a challenge. The next person I told was a friend of mine, followed by my father and my mother, and she reasoned with me about it because I knew it was going to be tricky.

Be patient, I was told. Be patient and just roll with it.

Okay.

On second thought, I was glad that I had left when I did because they pretty much imploded the second I walked out that door with my guitar over my back. There was a part of me that believed that I had become a glue of sorts, and my departure only made them fall apart even more. For a moment, I was guilty, but I needed to move on and find my own footing, even if it meant I had nothing for a while.

I was going to have nothing again. I took the first plane out of the Bay Area at around five in the morning, and the night before, I called my mom for a check-in.

“I’ll pick you up at baggage claim, honey,” she vowed to me, and I took that to heart. I had to be there for at the very least the first night and the lighting of the menorah. The first flame that would light up the proverbial oil in my own heart.

We broke up back in August, and I still licked my wounds at that point. I had nothing to do other than play the blues for myself: I knew I always had it in me, the one Jewish boy in a yuppie neighborhood in the outskirts of San Francisco with the older parents. I had my friends but I still found myself alone at times.

We were together for only two years: I had met her shortly before my last tour with Testament and maybe it was just my own ignorance, but I thought I had found my one and only. I gave her my heart and she took it and tore it straight to shreds. I was torn to shreds.

I couldn’t bear to look at my own reflection, at my hair, at my face, at anything. In fact, it was right after she and I had gone our separate ways when I decided to crop my hair from the top of my stomach up to my shoulders. I could still let my hair fly around behind my head whenever I walked and whenever there was a gust of wind.

I had gained a little bit of weight since the break up, enough to pad my tummy a bit but not nearly enough to make me fat, though. I knew I was always going to be a skinny lad, even when I grew into middle age. I loved to eat, and there was a part of me that wanted my body to stay the same no matter what I stuck through my lips. So, that was another thing I looked forward to. I had survived another year without having my throat slit and my body broken, other than proverbially, so I would resort to eating to my heart's content.

I had brought one of my guitars with me because I knew I was going to have to perform for my family once I got there. I was Mr. Big Shot after all, having gone from a rock n' roll band which I helped build from the ground up and then I went about my own way. I had to show and tell once I made my way to the house and we were all settled in for the next eight evenings. It was the one I always kept in a soft fabric case lest anything happen to it on the plane; I checked myself into the airport, and I took my one overnight bag with me onboard.

Once I tucked it into the overhead, I hunkered down in the middle of the plane. And the very second I sat down next to the little old man by the window, I let the thoughts hit me: if the plane went down, he and I both could probably survive, and we could survive with the fire on my back. I was already in the mood for surviving, and all I needed was the proper situation for it.

Then again, as soon as I thought that, I knew I would have to pay the price. Such was my life at the time.

Within time, there was a little more than fifty people around me and the old man, and the door closed.

I'm coming home, Mom, I thought to myself. Mom and Dad.

The airplane rolled along the blacktop: I peered out the window, past the old man's slumbering face, at the glimmering lights as they lined the dark horizon, at the black sky overhead where there wasn't a star to be seen. I returned my attention towards the front of the cabin, and I closed my eyes. I never liked the take-off, especially at night and the stars had not poked out as of yet. So many things could go wrong. So many things on the plane could go wrong and I did not want to even so much as think about it but I thought about it, anyway.

I held my breath and gripped onto the armrests on either side of me.

The old man next to me was still asleep by the time the landscape fell away from the plane and we rose up into the blackness. I closed my eyes.

It felt like an eternity rising up into the clouds before we finally leveled out.

I opened my eyes and it felt as though my chest was about to explode. I opened my lips and let out a low whistle. I peered out the window again, and that time I could see the clouds right below us, barring the wispy ones that caressed the body of the plane.

I needed something. I needed to find a way. It had been two years since I bailed from Testament and I still hadn't found my way.

Of the whole time that she and I were together, not once did we have an intimate period together. In fact, she barely touched me. It was as if she waited for me to make a move on her when I was totally lost on what to do for her. All the while, I had this lingering guilt in the back of my mind that told me that I had no right to feel that way. How dare I feel that way about her, or anyone for that matter. I couldn't say that I needed to be touched or held because it was too much to even talk about.

I knew it was hard for her, and I always hear how it's hard for them, but there was me, though. The boy with the long hair who looked on at girls with nothing more than pure fantasy because he didn't feel good enough about himself.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that she wasn't for me. And the more I thought about that, the more I wondered if I could have any woman I wanted, or any man for that matter.

Indeed, I glanced over the sleeping old man in the window seat next to me, with the brim of his hat tugged down over his eyes and his hands tucked underneath his face. His ashen skin and the heavy tweed that wrapped up his body reminded me of my grandpa and the way he'd always dress after he came home from the temple.

I couldn't explain it but the weirdest thought crossed my mind right then: to make out with a man in a temple. In fact, I fluttered my eyelids and shook my head about as if I had bumped my head at the mere suggestion of it. I rubbed my brow and shook my head some more.

“Are you okay?” the stewardess asked me. I lifted my head for a look into her big blue eyes and her golden blonde hair: she looked like a model on one of those greeting cards you'd see around this time of year.

“Me?” I asked her with a break in my voice.

“Yeah, I saw you shaking your head about. Do you feel okay? Do you want some aspirin?”

“Oh, no, it's just—the altitude,” I told her, and I couldn't resist the grin on my face. “I would like a drink of water and maybe a cup of coffee, too, though.”

“You got it,” she assured me, and for a second, I swore she winked at me.

I was a skinny lad with a little extra butter cream on my ass and I could feel it in my pants. In fact, if there weren't three children about two rows in front of me, I would have gladly unfastened my belt for her. Maybe I was a crazy creep at that point, but I had my feelings, too. I simply couldn't help myself. I was fresh off the boat in a few things, but I had my feelings, too.

I needed to feel and connect. I needed to be safe with another person, and I was so close to making the declaration that I didn't care as to whom I could connect with, either. Karma was more of a bitch to me than I realized before.

She returned to me with two paper cups in either hand, one of water and a cardboard one with coffee. The warmth crossed my face at the sight of her; I thanked her and sipped on the water first. All the while, I watched her go tend to the two women three rows before me; I craned my neck for a better view of her there. She wore that short dark green skirt that accentuated the shape of her legs.

I raised my eyebrow and sipped on the water some more as my eyes wandered up to the backs of her thighs and the shape of her ass. I then set down the cup and rubbed my eyes.

I'm a dog. I'm a dirty dog and a bastard, but my eyes wandered no matter what.

Maybe I needed to tamp down everything. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she was the one for me but I had no other means of telling her because we should just assume.

I rolled my head over the surface of the seat for a view out the window again: that time, I saw nothing but clouds underneath the belly of the plane. Something about it gave me a weird feeling.

The weirdest feeling, even as I sipped on the coffee. There was no way I could take a nap, either. So much to think about with all of this.

And yet, I needed something to do.

I needed something to do.

I brought the coffee cup up to my mouth again as I took another peek at the stewardess, who had moved up to the next row. I could see the entirety of her figure as well as the backs of her legs. Those three kids in front of me were going to have to know about it sooner or later—

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking,” the intercom crackled on over our heads. “—I'm afraid we're going to be making an emergency landing in Reno. Radar is showing a massive blizzard over the Rocky Mountains, as well as an incoming one over the Sierra Nevadas. Please fasten your seatbelts.”

My heart sank at that. So much for going home to my parents on time.

I glanced out the window again, and indeed, more and more clouds collected along the northern end of the Central Valley to the point I couldn't see anything over there.

“That was fast, though,” I muttered, simply because I knew we had barely cleared the Sierras at that point.

“Fasten your seatbelts, we're making an emergency landing in Reno,” I heard the stewardess say to the two women in front of me.

“Wonder what happened,” the old man next to me said aloud, and I turned my attention to him.

“There's a blizzard over the Rockies,” I told him. “Pretty big one, too. I think there's one coming in from the Northwest, too.”

Once again, I peered out the window to the darkness down below the plane: that time I made out the orange glow on the underside of the incoming clouds, and I knew that northern Nevada and the Sierras looked at a great deal of snow. I sighed through my nose, and I gripped onto the armrest with my free hand. I was already starting to regret the cup of coffee.

“You look nervous, son,” said the old man. “We're in the best spot if there's a crash.”

“I am a little bit nervous, to be frank,” I confessed to him.

“It's funny because my name is Frank,” he quipped to me, and I couldn't help but laugh, albeit nervous laughter.

“I'm Alex,” I said. “And I really hope I'm not the last person you see before this flight ends.” We were in fact flying into the rim of a massive blizzard, and for all any of us onboard knew, we could hit a wave of turbulence and crash right into one of the mountain sides around Lake Tahoe. But I was certain that we would survive, however. It was still rather nerve racking to look out the window and see nothing but orange clouds and not know the whereabouts of any mountains down below us.

“Where were you headed, by the way?” he asked me.

“New York. I was going to be with my parents for Hanukkah.”

“Oh, Hanukkah! I was going to be with my daughter and my son-in-law for the next month: they're in school so their Thanksgiving break will end in the next day or two, but they wanted me to come along before Christmas.”

“Aw, that's sweet of them,” I said in a soft voice; something about the mention of marriage my heart sink even more, and yet there was an even bigger voice which loomed in the back of my mind that told me to embrace being alone, even in the circumstance of the plane crashing down. All the while, I braced for impact on the mountains, but we never did hit anything as we descended through the clouds. I kept on looking out the window to the pitch darkness below us.

“It's been a while since I've been over the Reno-Carson City area,” he continued.

“How long?” I asked him.

“About ten years. My daughter got married in Hawai'i over the summer, but she always came home to the Bay Area.”

“I'm kind of alone back there,” I confessed to him with a toss of my hair back. “For me, it almost feels like I'm coming home to New York.”

“You? Alone? A handsome Jewish boy like yourself should have the girls all over you.”

I bowed my head and blushed at that. I had never really heard the word “handsome” thrown my way before, at least not after I turned eighteen. It was always “cute” or “hot”.

“I see Reno,” I heard one of the children in front of me say aloud.

“Do you see Reno?” I asked him.

“There she is,” he remarked with a gesture out the window. Beyond the mountains and the wispy clouds stood the glimmering lights of Reno, Nevada. I knew I would have to call my mom, anyway, should there be a layover of any kind, but I never knew I would have to do it when the plane had just barely left California. I shivered even though the heater worked fine all around us. I was going to be alone for Hanukkah as well as Thanksgiving.

I was going to be stuck there with only a few bucks to my name.

I held still as we kept on the descent to the airport, but Frank seemed eager to step off the plane to be with his family. So much was my own life.

In fact, as we made our way through the clouds, I noticed the little flurries collecting on the other side of the glass.

“It's snowing,” I told him, and his face lit up at the sight of it.

“It is!” he declared.

We rounded the outskirts of the city before I could feel the plane sinking down towards the blacktop. The kids ahead of me seemed more anxious than me to get off that plane: I hoped that I could have enough to even feed myself let alone find a place to stay in for the night.

The snow picked up the pace outside of the plane windows, and already, I could see the drifts forming on the runway as we touched down: the entire plane jolted forth, which was in turn followed by a slight wobble at the back.

“Ice on the runway—hang on, everyone,” I heard one of the stewardesses say. The blonde had disappeared into the back of the plane, and I didn't think to ask her for her number, either, especially since the plane slowed as best as it could before it reached the actually airport itself. I closed my eyes, and I could feel Frank's fingers on the back of my hand.

“We'll be alright, son,” he assured me.

I cracked him a smile but I was still nervous.

But then the plane hit a dry patch of tarmac, and we slowed up a great deal. That time I opened my eyes and gazed out the window: little flurries floated outside of the glass but the sky directly overhead was clear. It was only a matter of time, though.

I almost wanted to laugh when we jolted some more along the tarmac towards the airport: something about it just seemed funny to me, a big jet airliner like that jolting forth like someone learning to drive. But we reached the terminal and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I stood up first and picked my bag out of the compartment: I was glad I had my big peacoat in there because there was no way I could walk out there dressed in nothing more than jeans and a T-shirt. I hoisted my bag over my shoulder: the blonde stewardess had stayed in the back of the plane, and thus, I was greeted by a different woman at the door of the plane as I made my way out of there.

Only fifty of us, and we all congregated in the space outside of the gate in total silence.

“Are we the only ones here?” one woman asked aloud.

“I think we are,” I told her.

“All the flights are cancelled,” said another woman who stood by the big screen near the gate. “Every single one of them, including the ones to Phoenix and Dallas.” I craned my neck for a better look: sure enough, the ones headed out to New York were all kaput. Add to that, we were alone in the whole entire airport.

“Looks like we're all gonna pitch tents for the time being,” one man declared. Frank strode up behind me with his suitcase in hand and a quizzical look on his face.

“What's happening?” he asked me.

“I think the airport's closed,” I told him, and I could feel my heart sink. After all of that preparation and hope that I had set aside for myself, and I found myself stranded in the airport in the heart of downtown Reno.

“I'm lucky my daughter's in town,” Frank said with a grim look on his face. “I hope you can find your way out of here, son.”

“I hope so, too. You stay warm for me, okay?”

“Of course! And I would take you home with us if there wasn't only room for one more.” He patted my upper arm and showed me a smile before he stepped away and towards the big front doors of the airport. I sighed through my nose and took my wallet out of my jeans pocket. Somewhere around that airport was a series of payphones: I had just enough money to call my mom and buy myself a hotel room, but I had no idea if I was going to have enough for breakfast in the morning. I could either be cold and have food in my belly, or I could be cozy warm with a bed and a shower but wake up hungry the next morning.

One of the women who sat in front of me turned her attention to me: an older lady with dark shoulder length hair and wire framed glasses. She reminded me of my mom when she was younger.

“Do you need a ride?” she offered me.

“I do, as a matter of fact,” I said in a low voice. “I have money for a hotel room but not enough to get something to eat, though.” The woman next to her turned her attention to me as well: she had a head of short, fiery red hair and big dark eyes that seemed to swallow me whole. She looked a lot younger, too, as if she was the daughter.

“We could take you in for the time being,” the one on the left told me.

“Could you?” I asked her.

“Yeah! We're only going to see my parents—her grandparents—” She gestured to the girl next to her. “—here in Reno, but they have a big house, though. We could help you out.”

The last thing I wanted was to impose on her or her daughter. But it was a nice gesture and I was stuck in Reno with nowhere else to go. Donner Pass was closed, and I had no car and no other means to contact anyone. I may as well go with these two women. I showed them a little smile: the girl bowed her head a bit at me as if she was shy. The airport lights shone over her short red hair to make it look even redder than usual. Her brown eyes gelled with that rich red color so well that it made me think of a volcano. I returned to the woman and her putting her fingerless leather gloves on.

“I'll do it, but I don't want it to feel like I'm pressuring you, though,” I confessed with a shake of my head.

“Believe me, you aren't,” she assured me. “I'm a school teacher so I know how to handle strange situations, however they may come up.”

“My parents are teachers, too,” I told her. “They know the feeling, too.”

“Oh, wow! I’m Wendy,” she introduced to me. “Wendy Peck. And this is my daughter Christine.”

“I’m Alex,” I said. “And seeing as you’re a teacher, may I call you Mrs. Peck?”

“Oh!” She chuckled at that. “You're too sweet, Alex. You can call me whatever you want.” I turned my attention to Christine and her head of short red hair. It was so bright and fiery red, as if she had dyed it with Kool-Aid.

“I like your hair, by the way,” I told her.

“Thank you,” she said in a small voice. 

“I say I know how to handle strange situations,” Wendy repeated to me, “but she is the one exception. Two years ago, just out of the blue, she decided to cut her hair really short like this and dye it bright green, then fiery red. Seventeen years old, soon to be eighteen, and I felt I lost control of her a long time ago.” She chuckled and shook her head at that. But I turned to Christine, however.

“If it makes you feel better, my parents feel the same way about me,” I told her.

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. So many times growing up, I'd hear 'my kid's meshuggah!' or 'my boy's meshuggah!' whenever I did anything, especially when I got into music and again when I got ink done.”

She gaped at me and her eyes sparkled.

“'Meshuggah', is that—Yiddish?” Wendy asked me.

“Sure is. My family's Ashkenazi Jewish. I was headed out to New York City to be with my parents and my brother—the first night of Hanukkah is on Monday. I missed Thanksgiving, so I really want to be home for those eight nights.”

“I have a few Jewish kids in my class,” she elaborated. “I'll hear them throw out some words here and there and it's always interesting to hear.”

“We're one big family,” I proclaimed, and I noticed her looking over at something behind me. I followed her gaze to the baggage claim, and I realized that my guitar case may be over there.

“Let's go and get our things,” Wendy goaded me and Christine, and the three of us walked on over there, away from the other fifty people fretting about what to do next. Christine walked along side me, and the crown of her red hair only reached my shoulder.

“Seventeen, you said?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I'll be eighteen in April,” she replied. “I don't know what I'm gonna do after high school, though.”

“Do you play any instruments? Because if you play something, you can go and start a band or be a singer songwriter like Liz Phair or somebody.”

“Not really. I like art, though, but I'm not very good at it.”

“I'm sure you can get good at it,” I promised her with a nod. “I didn't think I'd be good at guitar when I was a kid, but here I am, calling myself a professional guitarist.”

“Do you have your guitar?” she asked me.

“It's over here with the luggage people,” I answered, and I could not resist the grin on my face. Seventeen or not, there was something about her that tickled me. I had no idea if it came from her fiery red hair or the twinkle in her dark eyes.

She had more of a twinkle in her eyes when I showed her the soft felt case and slung it over my other shoulder.

“Travelling Wilbury!” Wendy decreed as she handed Christine her little suitcase.

“For real!” I chuckled at that. “All I'm missing is a hat.”

I let my hair flow back behind me as the three of us returned to the front of the airport, and we stepped outside to see the snow drifting down in fine flurries over us. The blizzard was only beginning, and especially since the darkness seemed to fall over the whole heart of Reno. I turned my attention to the Hilton off to the left, only to find that the sign had burned out.

“Is the power out across town?” I asked them in a hushed voice.

“I think it is,” Wendy told me as she reached into her coat pocket for her car keys. “It's going to be really strange going back home...”

[goldenn-moments]

absolutely losing it over your 'mind your business' wille screencap this is pure gold 😂😂

also your thoughts!!! *discreetly slides you a can we be friends note haha stealth mode 100*

I'm so glad that my roommate is a heavy sleeper bc I may or may not have had a happy freak out when I saw I had another ask in my inbox skdvxksbd. I'm very glad you liked my "mind your business" wille, I made it in three minutes on my phone when I was ignoring my work <3

and OMG my thoughts. okay, I decided like, ten minutes ago that tomorrow I'm actually gonna post my whole lengthy thing of what I want out of s3, but!! here are some of my random thoughts that have been plaguing my brain:

starting off strong with the first thing I saw when I opened my notes app - this random idea that I had for a wilmon au: wille and simon as orpheus and eurydice. I got this idea bc I saw one of those "no one would sit at my grave" "he would" edits that are making the rounds on tiktok, and all the comments were saying "wille would follow simon to the grave" etc etc. and bc I'm a greek mythology nerd, my mind immediately went to the myths and then I was like "omfgs orpheus and eurydice." I can't decide who I want to be who bc on one hand there's simon who is clearly the musician out of the two. on the other hand I have this vivid image of wille going to the underworld and begging to save simon, willing to do literally anything to get the love of his life back

sticking on the greek mythology track for a sec (apologies, this probably wasn't what you were expecting, but I was one of the first members of my high school's greek myths club for a reason) - I love thinking up aus, and in a world where greek gods and young royals coexisted in the same universe, simon is 100% the son of apollo. like are you kidding me??? the sun was made for omar (and simon by default) (yes this is inspired by omar's insta pic)

pov outsider is like, one of my favorite things ever. in every fandom I'm in I inevitably search for it on ao3. and so I just love thinking abt what the people around simon and wille are thinking - like what do rosh and ayub see when they look at wille and simon???? they see their best friend who is strong in his beliefs against the upper class somehow being wooed by the prince of all people, then they see said prince break his heart, and then months later after they try to convince their bestie to move on, said prince is on national television basically proclaiming his love for their bestie. like I want to know what they were thinking!!! I want to see into their minds. I wanna know if they were somewhere like idk, maybe their school was broadcasting the thing or smth (idk what time of day it was sorry), and they don't wanna watch bc fuck him, he hurt their best friend, but then???? he turns around and takes back control of his own story and says no to harmful and empty traditions???? like if I was them I'd be losing my shit, full on what the fuck mode and texting simon to tell me everything bc I need to know what's happening

I also want to see into the minds of the average hillerska student. like they had front row seats to the Drama that is wille and simon - what were they thinking whenever their prince and that non res kid slipped into the music room together??? when simon nailed wille w the ball and the most reaction anyone had was the guy who was clapping behind simon??? what did the choir thinking when simon led wille away??? (bc they have to have the best seats in the house - they've been humming along to simons love song for wille for a while now, they gotta know it all, lmao). basically these pov outsider thoughts aren't fully fleshed out, but they rattle around my brain all the time and I'm always here wondering what people are thinking

something I want in s3 that's probably gonna be on my list: simon getting the fucking respect he deserves. like out of everyone at that school, wille is the one who respects him the most. wille was the first one to look past his societal labels and see the brilliant, shining boy that simon is. and yeah they've been dealing with all their shit so that distracted from it, but now that they're out, that there's no more hiding (they're stepping into the light skxjsj) - even w all that, I highly doubt that the majority of the hillerska population will give up their prejudices just like that. so I'm expecting to see students be kinda nasty, like I wouldn't be surprised if vincent ramps up his douchebaggery in s3 bc he's an elitist asshole. and bc I'm expecting that to happen, I'm also expecting wille to snap at anyone who tries to belittle simon, laying down the groundwork for simon to have his footing w all those rich kids and stand up for himself. idk, I just really want simon to be respected at school at the very least, bc we all know that the royal court ain't gonna be respecting him

on the topic of the royal court: fuck jan-olof. all my homies hate jan-olof. if I was in a room w the worst person alive and jan-olof, there'd only be one person in that room w me and it'd be that bitch jan-olof. I hope that while wille and simon are busy smiling next season, jan-olof will be suffering immensely

speaking of wilmon smiling, I need at least seven seasons of them just being domestic happy bitches after s3 is over please and thank you Lisa <3

I have a lot of vague fic ideas that I wanna flesh out, so hopefully I'll get the brain power to do that during winter break. some of those ideas are: a pov outsider from krissy's pov set in a hypothetical s3 where simon and wille are at the palace. they've just had a tense meal that was after an intense royal court meeting, and miss ma'am is frustrated. she goes on a walk to clear her head, only to end up hiding behind a corner bc there's wilhelm and his boyfriend, standing in the gardens under the moonlight. and she doesn't know why she doesn't immediately step up and make her presence known - maybe it's because she wants to understand why her son is so willing to throw everything away for that boy, or maybe it's because now, bathed in the moonlight, is the first time she's seen her son genuinely smile in over a year. it's the first time she's ever heard him giggle like that since he was a child being chased by erik, and it's all because of that boy who helped cause all this trouble. and it goes on and she eventually leaves but gets an appreciation for the way her son is never more alive than when he's with simon. I'm tentative abt writing this bc I haven't written in krissy's pov, but who knows. my OTHER idea I came up w like, after I finished s2 and had to silently freak out bc I was stupid and finished the show in the middle of a lecture hall😭 basically I wanna write all these times simon thought "I love you" but never said it and the times he finally does - I have another page in my notes app for when those moments should be, and who knows! maybe I'll write them one day

another thing I wanna write that's completely out of left field: just inserting magic of some kind or another into the yr universe. I have a bad habit of making everything magical bc thats where my eternal brainrot lies, so. if anyone wants to see that, hmu and I'll share some of my many ideas w the yr universe and magic (this includes many crossovers bc I'm also really bad at stopping myself from crossing over all my fandoms in some way shape or form)

anyways!! this is completely incoherent and an absolute mess, but that's kinda how my brain operates so I hope you liked at least some of it, lol. thank you so much for this ask, my excitement for being able to ramble abt yr is through the roof *discreetly accepts the can we be friends note bc hell yeah we can, your stealth mode is so good, 10/10*

[jewishvitya]

I got a lot of beautiful responses that made this post worthwhile. People who were touched by my feelings about the Shofar, people who thanked me for explaining what I did, and so much support for the problem I was bringing up.

This, though:

Thank you so much for this. I actually found myself looking for an idiom that says "out of something painful, came something sweet" just to try to describe how this made me feel. Couldn't find one in English, but that's a rough translation.

I read these tags out to my partner, because they're so beautiful. I also spoke to him about... Wanting to share the Shofar in more than just a couple of sentences. I don't know if you're Jewish or not, or if your knowledge changed since then. I don't know if this would be welcomed. But I felt like maybe it could be nice? Hopefully?

Like I said, I'm an atheist (though I grew up religious), so the way I relate to it all is specific to me.

My partner and I listened to a few recordings of the Shofar on YouTube, even found a Jewish song that incorporates it. It all fell flat. But then we had a conversation about what makes the Shofar so impactful, and I hope it's okay to share that.

In Judaism, the soul is good and it can't be tainted. The core of you isn't something you can destroy. The soul is pure, and that's stated in the blessing we say every morning when we wake up. At heart, you are good.

In our calendar, the last month of the year is Elul. That's the time you start hearing the Shofar. It's not required yet, but some communities add it to certain morning prayers. Elul a contemplative month. You consider your missteps and your path. How far am I from who I want to be as a person? How am I treating the people around me? In Judaism God can't offer you forgiveness for hurting another person, only that person can, so this question is especially important.

The whole month ends in two major holidays: Rosh Hashana, and ten days after, Yom Kippur. This is when you hear the Shofar the most, and it's almost meditative.

Rosh Hashana is the Jewish new year. And starting a new year is a big deal. After a month contemplating your place, you sit and listen to an instrument that awakens your heart. It tells you that you're not broken, that you're wanted, that you're not too far gone.

It's a mournful sound, too - in it, I feel like I can hear thousands of years and those who lived through them. It carries grief for everything we lost. But it's hopeful, and it ties me to them. Especially since we hear it in prayer, as part of a community, all of us silently listening.

Since we believe that the soul is good - at the core, you're someone good - sitting with the desire to be better felt like connecting with the deepest part of myself. I sit among my people, drowning in a powerful sound that tells me I can be better. That door is always open to me and it can't be closed.

Yom Kippur is the only holiday we have that's also a fast. Most of our holidays have feasts. Most of our fasts are sad. Yom Kippur means Day of Atonement, or Day of Forgiveness - and that's a happy thing. We see it as the day where we're closest to the divine. It's a day spent almost fully in prayer.

Here, the Shofar is blown at the end of the closing prayer, after the fast is done. It marks the end of our holiest day. It always felt heavy, knowing I won't hear again until Elul.

It's full of meanings of loss and forgiveness and being called to come home because you'll always be wanted back. I love it deeply.

I wrote in this post why Hogwarts Legacy is antisemitic and why playing this game, even pirated, is like printing out an antisemitic caricature and saying "I just like the art."

I was right.

If you play this game, fuck off and stay away from me.

Sorry, finding this out almost made me cry.

[dfroza]

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures

for the 23rd of november 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New Covenant) of the Bible

[The Book of Luke, Chapter 18 • The Book of 1st Samuel, Chapter 30]

along with Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms with Proverbs 23 and Psalm 23 coinciding with the day of the month, accompanied by Psalm 63 for the 63rd day of Astronomical Autumn, and Psalm 28 for day 328 of the year (with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 3rd revolution this year)

A post by John Parsons:

Recall that Sarah gave birth to Isaac when she was 91 years old (Gen. 17:17, 21), and she later died when Isaac was 36 years old, at the age 127 (Gen. 23:1). And while the Torah does not explicitly state the cause of her death, we are told about her death following the dramatic episode of the sacrifice of Isaac (Gen. 22), and the midrash Tanchuma therefore links the two together by saying Sarah died from shock after learning about the ordeal of her son at Moriah. It was just too much for her heart to bear: "And a sword will pierce through your own soul also..." (Luke 2:35). Therefore Jewish tradition associates the cries of Sarah with the blasts of the shofar during Rosh Hashanah. The broken notes of the shofar are thought to recall her crying for her son...

Isaac was the first “Jewish baby” born to the world, the promised son, the miracle child and the heir of Abraham. As the firstborn son of God’s promise, without him the whole world would fall apart, and there would be no salvation to come... So when Sarah heard that Isaac was offered at Moriah, her soul departed from her and she thought the world was falling apart. She prayed to God: “Let me die for my son; let me die in place of my son...” Sarah’s love was so great it brought Isaac back to life from the dead.

Understand that we study Torah and the lives of the patriarchs because it is part of our great yerushah (יְרוּשָׁה), our heritage, in Messiah Yeshua... The Torah tells our story as the people of God; it is the context and framework of the entire Bible. As it says: "Listen to me, you who pursue righteousness, you who seek the LORD (שִׁמְעוּ אֵלַי רֹדְפֵי צֶדֶק מְבַקְשֵׁי יְהוָה): look to the rock from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were dug. Look unto Abraham your father and to Sarah who bore you; for he was but one when I called him, that I might bless him and multiply him" (Isa. 51:1-2). Amen.

Note: For more information on this topic, see the “Akedah of Sarah” article (link below).

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Isaiah 51:2 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa51-2a-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa51-2a-lesson.pdf

The Akedah of Sarah:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Scripture/Parashah/Summaries/Chayei_Sarah/Akedah/akedah.html

11.22.24 • Facebook

from Today’s email by Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

[heliza24]

Chapter 31 of Heart and Homeland is now live!

In which Maddie helps Wilhelm, Felice, and Rosh hatch various escape plans, and Simon grows closer to famous historical revolutionary Simón Bolívar. But don't worry, Ayub can see straight through Simon's misplaced crush and calls him out on how he is just trying to replace Wilhelm:

“He doesn’t love you back. Not in the same way the Prince did.” Eriksson’s face changed at the mention of the Prince. It was like a shutter had come down over the light in his eyes. He became defensive. “It’s not like that.” “Isn’t it? I see the way you look at Bolívar.” “It can’t be like that,” Eriksson continued, his voice full of false confidence. “Bolívar swore off all love after the death of his wife. He only cares for his country and for rebellion.”  I restrained myself from rolling my eyes. Of course Bolívar would do something as dramatic as that. “So the only way you may be close to him is if you fight his war for him. So you have conscripted yourself. He’s using you, Simon. He knows about your feelings and he’s leveraging them to get you to join his cause. He’ll never choose you over the coming fight. ” Eriksson suddenly stood and started to pace. There was anguish in his voice. “The Prince didn’t choose me either. He didn’t defend me when his mother exiled us. And then he chose to stay in the clutches of the Freedom Society when he could have escaped with us.” “To protect his baby nephew!” I exclaimed. “Still,” Eriksson said.  “With Bolívar I always know where I stand. As long as we are pointed in the same direction, towards Venezuela, we will be walking in step.” “What happens if something changes, and you deviate?” I asked. “You will be left behind all over again.” “Then I will not deviate.” Eriksson stood in front of me, hands crossed. “Can’t you see that I am happy? For the first time in a long time? Don’t you want that for me?” “Of course I do. But only if it is genuine,” I said, refusing to back down from his glare. “Not if you are using this as an excuse to run away from heartache that you are too afraid to feel.” 

(For those Les Mis fans out there, we kept joking that Simon is in his Grantaire era in this chapter).

@bluedalahorse and I want you to know that the Big Climax of the whole plot is going down next week, so you have exactly seven days to get caught up on your H&H reading! We'll see you there.

[biandanxious18]

you know, i’ve never been very good at being jewish. growing up i didn’t even feel like i had the right to say i was jewish. my dad was, with his going to the synagogue every friday and saturday, and most mornings if he could.

i didn’t know many other jewish kids, i stopped going to the synagogue with my dad when i was around 10 i think. it was chabad, with folding screens that kept the women separated and they couldn’t even see the space where the torah was. i never knew how i fit in there so i stopped wanting to go.

i did do my bat mitzvah. i did it because my dad asked me to, and i wasn’t opposed to it, so i figured sure. i spent my every saturday afternoon for a year and a half, i knew most of the prayers by heart at one point. i remember the rabbi commenting on the day that i knew everything. i did the whole thing at a more liberal synagogue, i remember i really liked it there.

but even after it, i always hesitated on considering myself a jew.

then when i was around 18 i began to better understand what it meant. the history, the culture, the traditions. i began to understand it as a people. as an identity. i began to love it.

and over the last couple of years it became more and more dear to me. i started lighting shabbat candles, and caring deeply about celebrations and rituals. i’ve spent entire days in the kitchen for pessach and rosh hashanah.

recently, i moved countries, to study. leaving everything and everyone i knew had me a little fragile, missing feeling loved. i started to try to remember to say the modeh ani when waking up, and the food blessings. my dad suggested i went to the chabad synagogue he found out they have here. i did, i wanted to find community, i wanted to connect with people.

they didn’t seem as stuffy as my dad’s synagogue back home, and in a way i was a bit foolish, because i wanted to love and be loved so badly in this new place where i have no family, and am still making new friends. i let my guard down, because i wanted to believe they le would love me. i wanted to believe they’d welcome me.

and they did welcome me, of course. but thing is, last friday i went to dinner, and in a conversation the rabbi talked about how jews who don’t have jewish mother, basically aren’t real jews in his opinion. i don’t think he knows my mom isn’t jewish. of course, i knew this is the general chabad belief, but it caught me off guard. then the conversation went into “but of course everyone can self identify these days and you have to respect it” (read: you can’t say anything, even if you think it’s bullshit). suddenly it was a conversation about trans people. and i, again, was foolish. i forgot i’m too opinionated. that lots of people think of me as too radical. that i’m too quick to fall into argument. that my positions are too rigid.

so i chimed in with the bare bare basics of “see, trans people actually need rights and protection haha”. which led me to have a discussion with the guy sitting in front of me, where i explained the bare basics of my political beliefs, trying my best to be casual about it. not even gonna get into how he interrupted me multiple times and was incredibly thick to my every point. till he says he has no privilege from being born a man. and i laugh and go get some fruit. and i sit down with some other young people i’ve befriended and make no deal out of it.

and when i come back to get my coat he insists back on the topic. he wants me to explain feminism to him but he doesn’t really want to listen. i tell him it’s not my job to be his teacher, it’s not anybody’s job, he can look up on google. he says he wants someone to explain in a conversation. i repeat myself. eventually he gets pissed at me for saying he has privilege for being a man, and he storms out.

i feel bad. i feel like i caused a situation because, as always, i’m too firm, too relentless, too inflexible on what i think and believe. but then again i don’t think i was wrong. all i did was not be nice and sweet and subservient to him. and i don’t think it’s wrong to be inflexible when one side of the argument - be it feminism, antiracism, queer rights, antiablemist, social welfare, etc etc - is “people are dying. people need help”, and the other side is at best “i don’t care you’re dying”, and at worst “i want to kill you”. not saying this particular guy would have done anything, but it’s what it boils down to, imo.

and as i’m leaving, kinda uncomfortable by the whole situation, the rabbi stops me, because i can’t leave things like this. because we have to all be friends. because we need to know when to stop an argument. because jews are so little and we need to not fight each other.

and the thing is: i disagree. i think back to part of the jewish community in brasil who supported bolsonaro. it wasn’t the majority, not even close, but there are quite a few, even in my dad’s synagogue. i think of jewish people i have met who are bigoted, and conservative, and neoliberals little shits. i don’t want friendship with them. i want friendship with other jews who understand the importance of making the world better. of caring about people.

but then again i don’t have a jewish mother so how much of a jew am i, right?

surely less than the chabad if you ask them.

and so i leave with this awful feeling in my chest that i don’t really belong there. because these beliefs of mine are such an integral part of who i am, that being quiet when someone says something bigoted feels like betraying myself and being a hypocrite. and it’s okay that i don’t fit in there, but i mourn it because i let my guard down and believed i had found somewhere to belong to. because i miss my family and i miss feeling loved and i miss being hugged.

and now i’m sitting here four days later, and all the little traditions and rituals and everything i have been trying to do feel pointless. why am i lighting shabbat candles? why am i avoiding a food that isn’t kosher? why should i care to say a prayer in hebrew? i don’t even speak it. what am i doing all of these for?

because if being born of a jewish mother isn’t important to being a jew, then why should these be. and if doing these is important, than according to the same people, so is being born of a jewish mother. and i’m not. so why am i trying so hard to be a jew.

why shouldn’t i just give it up. feels like i should.

[bottomless-pit-of-whining]

I did my best at Rosh Hashanah with non-transliterated texts (which mostly meant reading the introductions and all the side texts from the entire book because I am the kind of Jew who got in trouble for reading ahead in textbooks for fun in school and that has carried over into how I engage with Jewish texts too), but I really would have loved to sing out the words with my whole heart along with everyone else.

I maaaaaay have volunteered myself to help my community gather transliterated texts for the next high holidays, so the next people in my shoes have an easier time of it. (And probably for myself, too, because there's no way I will be able to learn to read the prayers myself in a year.)

I love the translations, they help give me context and meaning, but I want the transliterations too so I can participate fully! The participating is so meaningful!! One of the things I love most about Judaism is that we are all singing the same prayers together as we have been for thousands of years and I want to be part of that too!!!

Unpopular opinion: All Siddurim should have translations and transliterations for numerous reasons. 1) If you are teaching your kids Hebrew, transliteration helps a LOT 2) If you have family over, this allows them to participate such as with a Bar/Bat Mitzvah 3) If someone wants to convert, not having something they can understand to even figure out if they want to start the process is only harmful both to them and the wider Jewish community as we've shut them out of even the most basic aspect of Jewishness.

AMEN

[bluedalahorse]

I was reading through this thread on statistics and mlm slash reblogged by @darktwistedgenderplural, and reflecting on it a bit, as one does. I’ve been active in fandom spaces since the turn of the millennium, and I’ve seen similar versions of this argument on tumblr and livejournal and in other sites for over two decades now. I do think it brings up some reasonable statistical points. At the same time I think that sometimes we think of fandom as a space immune to the influences of patriarchy, when in fact it still at times influences us and nudges us toward which characters we prioritize. I find that I have to do a lot of questioning of my own biases as I explore my various fandoms. Other people’s experiences may vary—maybe your experience is different than mine—and I can really only speak to my own. Maybe what I have to say here resonates with a few of you, though.

Anyway, let me shift to talking with a more positive lens. The more I considered the ideas in that original series of posts, and the more I thought about people agonizing that fic about female characters is harder to achieve than fic about male characters, the more it made me grateful for Young Royals and how well-written its female characters are. Two out of its five main characters are teenage girls, and Sara can even be called the show’s B Plot Protagonist. (Thank you again @heliza24 for sharing your meta about that with us! I think about it at least once every three days.) And Sara and Felice are both what I would call authentic and textured characters, who’ve got really interesting backstories and desires and flaws at play, the same way you get that for dynamic male characters. There’s so much for fanfic writers to work when it comes to the two of them! And I’ve enjoyed writing them both in my time in this fandom, and I’m proud of what I’ve managed to achieve so far in my writing.

Since the post addresses shipping as something fandom loves to do, I also think there’s lots of potential ways to ship the girls on Young Royals—whether that’s shipping Sara and Felice with one another or with other people, or whether that’s shipping the other girls in with other people various femmeslash ships and het ships. I admit I haven’t written Felice/Sara yet, but I’ve written Felice/Maddie and Felice/Rosh and Sara/August. And of course, in the moments when Heart and Homeland allows, I’ve explored the Manor House Girls friendship pentagon, and all the complex interpersonal interactions therein. I’ve seen other great ideas thrown around by other people, too, like the folks who’ve come up with Linda/Kristina backstory in the 1980s and so on.

I hope that as YR develops as a fandom and as we collectively write more fics, we’ll see the number of fics about female characters continue to grow alongside the number of fics about male characters. And also, once again, I think it’s so awesome that Lisa Ambjörn invests so heavily in the female characters on her show. She’s just about my age and my fandom generation, and I know there’s interview notes about her writing m/m slashfic for that wizard fandom back in the early 2000s. Her writing takes what’s awesome about fanfic but also mixes it with what’s great about professionally published fiction, and she did not neglect her female characters in the process. It’d be easy enough for her to just focus on cute boys and ignore the girls, but she doesn’t. And I just thought it was fair to give myself space to gush about that a bit, when a few of the comments in the post I was talking about alluded to writers who aren’t doing the best with the women in their stories.

…

Outside of Young Royals side note: even if I’m not writing fic for these other shows yet, I’m additionally grateful that TV right now has a whole crowd of female characters I can get excited about. There’s the girls of Heartstopper including my beloved Elle Argent, there’s Claudia in Interview with the Vampire, there’s Rose and Essie in When the Angels Left the Old Country (ok that’s a book not TV but I still love it), there’s Helen and Noelene on The Newsreader, there’s Kleo and Lidia Poët in the shows named after them, there’s Maribel and Fanny and Clara and Nines in 45 RPM (although god, nowhere near enough people have seen 45 RPM, and I wish there were more people out there who’d seen it!) That’s just off the top of my head. As more women have been included in writers rooms and have gotten to be showrunners for things—still not nearly enough, but an increasing number—I do think representation for female characters has gotten much, much better overall.

I also realize that… well. Over time, with hindsight, I’ve been able to appreciate female characters from old fandoms that I didn’t before. Like Relena in Gundam Wing, who I in my teen years used to bash relentlessly. Or Éponine in Les Misérables, who I used to roll my eyes at for being in tragic unrequited love, or something. But now I can see the roles they play in their larger narratives, and the nuances of who they are. So I think there’s also a lot of good representation that’s always been there, even if I haven’t always seen it.

I’m hoping that the trend of more and better female characters continues, and I’m hoping that the fandom statistics shift to reflect that with time. Are there any female characters on anyone else’s mind, while we’re chatting about this? Who are your favorites right now?

[wouldnt-it-be-hilarious-if-i]

🌞👛🪷🌞👛🪷🌞👛🪷🌞👛🪷🌞

Currently listening to: plantedinmymind.memo by Charlie Burg

🪷👛🌞🪷👛🪷🌞🪷👛🌞🪷👛🌞

Sometimes I catch myself masking in front of myself.

I get so excited talking about all my research, just typing up all my thoughts on the infantilization of Jews in children's Holocaust literature and the misrepresentation of Polish history and Slavic girlhood and sexual exploitation in 19th century France and I find myself deleting everything because nobody cares.

But I'm not talking to anyone. I'm talking to me. I'm typing this for me. So why do I feel like that? Who told me nobody cares?

I'm so passionate about Judaism and history and learning about Poland and every other thing that is important to me. I deserve to let myself be excited by new things I've discovered. So here's what I'm excited about:

I learned so much about Judaism this semester and I'm planning on taking more classes and going to more events to learn everything I can. My friend and I got close specifically because she loved that I'm very passionate about learning Jewish history, traditions and customs. Also because we both got our hearts fucking shattered by different people at the same time.

Anyway, she is president of hillel at my school and I got to go with her to this event where they explained what Rosh Hashanah was all about and we learned about golems!

It was so cool. We even made our own lil golems.

I also got to go to a Havdalah bonfire, and that was so cool. I think that's been my favorite event I've gone to. My friend invited me to her family's Hanukkah too! I actually almost cried I got so excited. I didn't cry but I did squeal and give her a hug.

I'm excited about Purim too, since there's going to be another opportunity for me to learn stuff. There was an event for it in the spring but I was shy and hadn't made friends with her yet so I just watched it for a bit and left. I get really shy when I don't have a buddy sometimes and just get so anxious about doing something new even when I'm really interested.

Another fun memory was watching my friends make challah. Picture the soundtrack to fiddler on the roof playing while one friend is making the bread and the other is doing the hora and trying to force the other to join. Also imagine this happening right before a fire alarm went off and we all had to vacate the premises.

I think one of the best things that has happened to me this year is meeting that friend of mine. Not just because they are always so excited to include me in any topic or event involving Judaism, but because I think she's one of my friend soulmates sometimes.

We will go whole weeks without talking, send each other voice messages where we say random TikTok audios and then not respond to anything else, engage solely in the shortest, most walking shit post conversations possible, and it feels nice because when I need to go somewhere, they always offer to drive me. And when we plan to study together, and we both forget or text each other at the same time to say that we don't want to get out of bed, I feel so seen. And when I told her that I was afraid of lighters and asked if she could come over to light my candle for me since I know she's not afraid of lighters 🍃 if yk what I mean lol, there was no question about it. It was just an immediate "of course."

She doesn't question it when I disappear for a while. She just welcomes me back to the table, asks me how I'm doing, and really hears me when I respond.

And I know that they feel the same way because when I met their parents, they said, "This is the friend I tell you about all the time!" And then they reiterated that she ALWAYS tells them about me.

I'm grateful that I met her. We were neighbors and classmates for a full semester before we got the nerve to talk to each other and we hit off immediately.

Her cat died and I didn't know. I just saw that she randomly stopped talking as much. So, I told her I had a statistics class and I needed a few answers about her favorite snacks and drinks. Then, I went out and bought them for her and left them by her door. Whenever she disappears for a while, I try to do this.

When I was back home, she drove two hours and rescued me for a few hours to take me thrifting. And when my card wasn't working, they bought me snacks and paid attention to the things I got excited about. For my birthday, she gave me a shirt I really wanted that day but couldn't buy.

I think what I love most about her is that I don't have to mask around her. She never asks me to be anything other than who I am.

Maybe I should start doing that too.