#i wish we could live in a space where we acknowledge one with the other

[mecharose]

also ngl one of the worst parts of having the air of melancholy is that no one wants to be around u if ur sad all the time. so i just have to quarantine the vibes. can someone just sit and be sad with me?

[katakaluptastrophy]

One thing that has me gnawing on the metaphorical drywall is that Abigail Pent apparently never learned just how awful Jod is.

There she is, in the River, murdered by one of god's fingers and gestures, having been invited to the First so that she could kill her husband and eat his soul and...she's triggering Harrow by exclaiming that "The King Over the River is good!" when she learns some people survived.

Having worked out that there is something fundamentally, practically, metaphysically wrong with the River she...just assumes poor old god doesn't know and could do with some Cliff Notes.

And then there's the battle with the Sleeper. She's hiding from a mad, gun-wielding ghost, her husband shot in the stomach on the other side of the room, and her carefully planned exorcism in pieces, and Ortus begins to recite the Noniad. And realising the impossible thing he wants her to do, Abigail - who pages earlier expressed her doubts about god's omnipotence, prays: “Oh, God... God, please help me” (which makes her the only character who isn't a literal priest or member of a religious order who we see praying).

When she describes her childhood bedroom to Harrow, everything she mentions sounds like something of significance to her: her grandfather's bones, her desk, the bed where her brother sometimes slept, and "a pretty chroma of the Prince Undying, but a little cockeyed." (think mass produced 1950s Sacred Heart picture and you're probably not far off...)

Despite having formative memories of having weird devotional art in her bedroom, Abigail is miles away from that other enjoyed of Jod pictures in their living space, Silas Octakiseron. She's open about her heterodox views, and clearly has the knowledge to back them up (including, it should be noted, at least one degree taken on the Eighth). And she clearly has form with going off on a heterodox tangent, as Magnus seems to have a well-rehearsed pattern for bringing her back to an acceptable line. And while she's happy to acknowledge that her views aren't orthodox, she's not being pointlessly controversial: she doesn't mind being a heretic, but she's rather upset by the idea that Marta might think her a mad one.

Marta, meanwhile, is one of several characters who show us that Abigail's intensity isn't just the result of living in a theocracy: “No. The Second House doesn’t overthink the River...If we did we’d just have to fill in forms.” Meanwhile, Ianthe is clearly thinking about dogma with an eye less to worship than replication.

And maybe it's because I know a lot of people who are devout but heterodox, and in relationships only tenuously accepted in their tradition (or only in their specific bit of the tradition)...but I just have a lot of feelings about Abigail here. Someone who's willing to be frank and informed about the complexities inherent in her belief system, but who seems to be committed to her faith. She seems so willing to think the best of Jod, to pray to him even when she's intellectually aware it may not be quite that straightforward and...he doesn't give a shit. He isn't god. He's a stupid little man who looks down on the humanities and I wish Abigail Pent got the chance to say something devastating to him.

[freakassfemme]

MWAH wishing u a speedy recovery!!!!! listen u always do my requests sm justice YOU JUST GET IT, i will always crawl back into ur askbox i am patiently waiting while kicking my feet :3

original ask YOU ARE SO SWEET! I appreciate you. here u go, i have brought you a gift <3 unfortunately my only explanation to 'getting it' is that I am always having or striving to have filthy nasty lesbian and queer interactions. or I am writing or reading about it. my sole purpose on this earth is to curate queer experiences. hope that helps <3 btw I wrote this from 6 - 9 am so bare with me wc: 2.9k warnings: metaphorically consuming each other as a form of desire, yeah I know I switched present/past tense its a bad habit of mine but I *don't care* nor do I care about consistent capitalization, I'm crazy for this woman obviously, rough sex, f/f, vagina/breast anatomy, biting, overstimulation, crying, maybe I get a little too poetic about gay sex, proof read by only me one singular time and it was mainly to see if the music fit the vibe, penetration, scissoring, I love pussy, orgasm denial x1 (?), slight size kink and worship but really that's in all my fics

see how it shines [smut] ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ

playlist: it will come back / be / abstract (psychopomp)

(yeah we r bringing hozier into this </3)

eighteen fucking hours. that's how long you'd been clocked in at the medical bay for what seemed to have been maybe the third or fourth time this week, and it was only Thursday.

the truth was, medics and doctors were dropping like flies these days, going AWOL and leaving the remaining staff to work what would need twenty sets of hands with maybe seven or eight. with the seraphites becoming more aggressive everyday, the peace in the stadium and other bases for the WLF had been short-lived, and many understandably weren't holding up well to the pressure, especially with the way the cleanup crews had been hauling back nonstop truckloads of friends and loved ones, and requests to be stationed elsewhere other than the stadium and two were immediately denied at this point.

so yeah, you were pretty fucking tired. at this point in the staffing shortage, they were having to send the folks on watch on additional rounds just to bring food to medics, on duty or at home, because they were simply too exhausted to go down to dining.

no one even acknowledged you as your blood and mud-ridden boots skidded across the concrete floors, your eyes practically closed even as you walked through crowds to get back to your dorm. the soldiers, civilians and staff alike parted like water around you, making an avoidant path and trying not too hard to look at you or the posters on the wall, outright begging people to sign up for medical classes.

you kicked the food delivery box inside of your dorm as you unlocked it, hands fumbling with your forehead pressed against the cold metal. inside, you quickly stripped out of your uniform top and boots, and crashed out on the couch.

abby herself was exhausted when she trudged into your shared living space hours after you, having just come off of a 48 hour rotation. her eyes wandered over the little trail of belongings leading to you on the couch, the boots left a few steps after the other, your button up discarded over the railing and the abandoned delivery box just a few feet from the door, which she didn't notice until she nearly slipped over it, causing a loud thump that had her wincing.

her eyes flicked to you, where she could only see the back of your head, and when she decided you weren't going to stir, she let out a sigh of relief and began stripping herself of her own uniform.

on her way over to the bathroom, she stopped next to you, taking in your splayed out form. your hair was a fucking mess, and you still had drops of (hopefully) someone else's blood across your forearms, one thrown against the back of the couch and the other hanging over the side. your pants were halfway undone, like you had tried an attempt that you decided wasn't worth the energy, and you looked pale as a ghost.

as much as abby wanted to let you sleep, wanted to let you get the rest you needed, she couldn't leave you like this. it'd been at least three days since she last saw you for more than a fleeting lunch break, and she couldn't find it in her to take care of herself and not you, especially when you had been eating away at yourself providing the undying care to strangers who wouldn't want to return it even in several lifetimes.

she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before she nodded, crouching down and grunting from the soreness of her own body as she scooped you up.

when you groaned and gave a small shove back, she hushed you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"c'mon, sweet girl, it's just me. i got you."

you hadn't put up much of a fight when abby propped you up on the sink. you leaned the back of your head against the mirror as she shimmied your pants and socks off of you, stripping your shirt and undergarments next until your cold skin was left against the glass and stainless steel, and you began to shudder. abby was quick about turning up the hot water in the shower though, allowing the steam fill the room before she helped you to your feet, letting you lean against her and whisper weak protests as you climbed into the hot shower.

instantly, you relaxed against her, and she ran her fingers through your hair, fully saturating the dirty strands as you sighed, wrapping your arms around her firm waist to steady yourself.

you stayed like that for a while, pressed against your girlfriend's tone form as you slowly collected your own strength, letting her gentle hands and soft voice lull you back from your weak state until you could help her wash you both up, even if it took a bit longer than usual.

"lean your head forward f'me, angel," abby murmured, one of her large palms warming up your spine with gentle caresses as she held a half-formed braid of your hair in the other. you obeyed quietly, letting abby tie back your now managed hair into something similar to how she usually kept hers, though she left her own loose.

when she was done, abby shifted closer behind you in the bed, her arms slipping underneath your borrowed shirt to hold you against her. she buried her face into your neck, letting you curl into her until you were turned on your side and entirely wrapped in her strong arms.

her nose nudged yours, and your eyes weakly fluttered open to meet abby's soft gaze, her seafoam eyes almost hauntingly bright against the cool illumination of the moonlit windows. it spooked you a bit, in all honesty, to have her this close to you again after so many days, days where you had considered the other possibilities in which she may come back to you.

you weren't any less unnerving to her -- she could tell you hadn't been eating nearly enough since she had been gone, and in just a few short days you already looked withered enough to drop like a limp daisy. your skin was ghostly, its usual warmth dampened from a lack of sunlight.

still, she was your girl, and you were hers, even in your worn states. and god, she had missed you.

abby's pine soap filled your nose as she pressed her lips into yours, the warm skin hesitant under your cool, cracked ones, and you accepted her gratefully, even if just for a moment it was as useless as whiskey on a winter night.

but then, of course, like any decent drink, the buzz hits.

and even though your limbs are screaming against you as you do so, your fingers curl into abby's loose hair, and you turn your head just a bit more. when you kiss back, abby's shyness, her gentleness quickly melts away, replenished by a hunger matching your own as you desperately search for more of her, pulling her against you like you hoped to swallow her whole.

your teeth crashed against her soft skin, tugging at her lip and making a slot for your tongue to force its way into her mouth. instantly, she shuddered, groaning into you in a way that you could feel the vibrations in her chest. it was like an open invitation, a warm meal laid out just for you, and you accepted it greedily.

you pulled abby on top of you by her hair, whining back when she moaned against your lips again. her own hand snaked up your body, squeezing at your thighs and hips as she fell on top of you, then pushing your oversized shirt over your chest, exposing your chest and making a clear pathway for herself. still, as starving as she was, she tried to take her time with you, wrapping her fingers around your jaw to hold you in place, and only stiffening up when you parted your legs, wrapping them around her and shoving your bare cunt against her firm stomach.

"wait," she whispered against your lips, "wait f'me, baby. let me have some."

you whine and protest as abby's strong arm holds you down by your throat, her other coming down to pin your fighting, impatient wrists to your stomach.

"baby, baby please," you're crying between broken moans as her tongue runs up your neck, stopping just so you can feel her heavy breathing against the shell of your ear when she slowly begins to work her hips against yours, the fabric of her boxers smearing your arousal across her thighs.

"fuck, baby I know," she groans, and if it wasn't for the way she gritted her teeth, you'd think she was annoyed rather than desperately holding herself together.

"abby, I --"

abby's hand on your jaw slips up some so she can shove two of her fingers in your mouth, and she lets out a stupid, desperate moan when she feels you choke around them for a second. then your eyes roll back just when she looks up, checking on her little angel, and she can't help but grunt louder, slamming her hips into your core in a way that makes you keen and your back arch, your smaller fists squeezing underneath her grip.

"god, shut up," she's practically begging as her hips rut into you. "please just, fuck, be quiet for a second, shit -"

she buries her face in your neck again, trying to satiate herself and regain some of her sanity, but your legs are now locked around her, pulling her against you in a way that has her clit brushing deliciously against the seam of her boxers. her head spins every time, and she lets out broken whines as she feels herself already tipping dangerously towards that edge as your body fights to consume her.

and god, it's torture for her, but for you, you just can't get enough. your fucking beast of a girlfriend trying so futilely to hold it together from just this stupid game of dry humping, when you're so, so willing to give her so much more.

let me have you, let me have you, you're chanting in your mind, your ankles pushing at the hem of abby's boxers.

you swallow around her fingers, and that seems to do it for her, granting you some edge as her other hand releases your wrists and flies to the side to hold herself up as her back arches against you with a loud groan.

your hands rush on to her back, your nails finding purchase just below her shoulder blades and ripping down the muscle until her fingers tear from your throat to slam against the bed and she stifles a cry by biting down on the base of your neck so hard that for a moment, you're worried she might draw blood.

"fuck," you rasp out against the pressure.

abby's shaking in your arms, moaning between the prettiest sobs as she gives in. she's pliant when your hands slip down to grab at her ass, and she lifts her hips to help you slip her boxers off, kicking them behind her.

she leans back, her blonde hair dripping onto your exposed tits. the cold water makes you shudder, and you let abby shove her bare cunt between your legs and slotting one thigh over you.

your lips fall in a open-mouthed gasp and she swears as her entrance rocks against your throbbing clit, one of her hands coming down to steady your hips and the other to hold her shirt up over her stomach so she can see the way you're making a mess of her thighs.

she stays there for a minute, brutalizing your bundle of nerves for her own pleasure. your head falls against the mattress, and you let out ridiculous whines, your hands fisting and slamming against the sheets below you, even coming up to claw at her strong thighs that kept you pinned so tightly in place.

"fuck, fuck, 's too much," you're choking out, and now it's your turn for the waterworks while abby only chuckles, laughing breathlessly as she presses down harder.

"no, no baby," she coos between her own moans, running her tongue over her teeth as she shudders. She slips her hips down some until you're fully rutting against each other again, the sheer wetness making it that much more difficult for your brain to process. "'s not, sweetheart, you can take it. i know you can baby."

you shake your head, and abby rolls her eyes, quickening her pace until your cheeks rouge and your whining grows. your hips twitch beneath her, uncontrollably bucking up to kiss her pussy again and again and again despite your pleas.

"what's wrong?" she purrs, her hand coming from your hips to run itself down from your neck, to your chest, to the back of your thigh. "thought you wanted it, thought you were begging for it, baby."

you whine again, shivering under her touch as she leans down, her mouth capturing the meat of your thigh as she rocks against you. she bites harder with each push and pull, and your tired body can't take it. it's too easy to get worked up for her like this.

"abs, ohmygod, stop, 'm gonna-"

abby's all to keen, knows exactly what you're going to say before you can even finish your sentence.

"shit, fuck, no you're not," abby grunts, ripping away from you in an instant.

your arched back hits the mattress with a full on sob, and you can feel your unsatisfied arousal leaking onto the sheets, the sickness between your thighs and on your stomach, the smell of abby, abby, abbyabbyabby until you jolt back up, letting out a small cry at the sudden impact against your clit.

she does it again and again, slapping your swollen cunt until your body is on the verge of cumming just from this. you're already so pent up, so touch-starved that you'd probably cum just from her biting you again, and she knows it, knows you're both like that right now.

your arms prop you up as one of her hands holds open your parted thighs, and her lips are consuming yours again as she growls with every spasm and whine she pulls from you. she doesn't stop until she really thinks you might burst, when you're starting to lift your hips for more instead of trying to hide away.

"god, you're filthy, baby," she groans against your mouth, and you only nod dumbly, knees shaking as you try to catch your breath. she's kneeling between your legs, ready to worship her sweet slice of heaven, ready to piece you back together.

abby's hand comes down gently this time, just the tip of her middle finger tracing over the mess between your legs until she's prodding it against your entrance so delicately that your brain nearly short-circuits.

she looks back up at you, her chest heaving from some sort of late-onset restraint and with such devotion filling her dilated eyes that you almost can't move, can't breathe. her eyes rake over you, holding every detail for an extra moment to commit it to memory, and when it's clear you're too awestruck by her, too overwhelmed by the sight of her poised in reverence, she speaks for you.

"gonna let me in, pretty girl?" abby asks, the words dripping off of her tongue like a velvety chocolate. you nod stupidly, your head bobbing in a way that's a little too eager, but she doesn't say anything about it.

instead, she hums, licking her lips as she wraps a hand around your head, pulling you so that her nose bumps against yours. abby presses her lips against yours, and one of your hands shakes as it finds its way up to grasp at her bicep. she's much more gentle this time, much more cautious as the tip of her finger begins to delve inside.

you pull away from her lips with a gasp when she intrudes, turning your face to hide it in your shoulder. you can't help but squeeze around the single digit, your knees already trembling.

"uh-uh," she tsks softly, her raspy voice echoing against your ear. she kisses your temple, and her hand slides down some to turn your face back towards her.

"let me see you," she whispers, sucking in a gasp as she pushes her finger farther into you, curving her palm to fit snugly against you.

your eyes flutter up to hers, almost shyly as you feel your ears burn and your eyes threaten to water as she holds your gaze. she nods when you do, curling her finger inside of you as she praises you, the ridges of your walls clinging to her finger so tightly that she's taking small, shallow breaths now.

"that's it," she murmurs, holding your head in place so you have to look at her. "that's my girl."

you let out a small whimper, the embarrassment running straight to your core as she begins to work her finger in and out, guiding it further each time until the base of her thumb glides over your clit. when it does, she groans, and can't help but push her hand harder against you until she's practically shoving you into the mattress and you swear you can feel her in your throat.

stars flutter around the blurry edges of the halo that is her golden hair, and the tears in your eyes begin to slip again between the way she's carving a god damn signature inside of you and how she's holding you so tightly against her.

you open your mouth, trying to speak but hopelessly interrupted by a mixed sob and moan. she chuckles softly, but it's tender and sweet, and she nods, brushing her thumb over your temple.

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

[jolapeno]

i wasn’t sure if I wanted to say something or not. but, I saw the post that @moonlitbirdie did here with the addition from @tonysopranosrobe and I guess it inspired me to be a little braver with my honesty.

because at the end of the day, this is my blog? it’s my thing I’ve taken and nurtured, and watered and made my own.

so lemme start with I’m aware it is humanly impossible to be everyone’s cup of tea, and I do not expect to be. but before the last week or so, I’d naively thought that if I wasn’t, those people would bow out politely from my life/space.

but that blog showed me that isn’t the case, and that sucked.

there are far more adjectives and words I’d love to say to describe my feelings on that blog and that situation. to describe the hurt and the sadness I’ve felt, not just for the words said about me but about moots, friends and others I see in the community I love being in. but I think I would never stop talking and we all have lives.

so I’ll get to the point of what this is.

normally, I wouldn’t address things publicly, but this time I want to put my foot down, to say a few things.

I might seem more confident in recc’ing myself, but that isn’t because I was faking it before. instead, it’s because I have good people in my life, and good friends who I might not have had before taking the time to let me hold some space in my life. who have reminded me that it’s okay to toot my fucking horn sometimes, and it doesn’t make me a bad person even if it feels bad.

they remind me that it’s okay to celebrate with cake when I finish a series I’ve worked really, really hard on. and those same good people are also ones who politely and virtually slap me when I begin talking shit on myself, who have helped me begin to forge a better relationship with the warring voices in my head—the writer who wishes to write and the girl with no self esteem who wishes to crawl into a ball each time she posts.

next, I know for some, it may have seemed like I was okay. that the normal posting on here was it running off my back like water. but it wasn’t. it was hard to come into a space where it felt like people hated me, and where people would send in asks about other people I’m friends with or care for or know. because even if it’s only a few asks, it feels like more, because I don’t know who is screenshotting and agreeing with it. and once you begin tumbling down that thought-cliff there’s no stopping you.

again, I’m aware I’m not perfect. i make mistakes, I try to learn from them, and I do not expect to be everyone’s fave person. but anon hate is not a thing I’d wish even on the people I personally dislike, and I’ve had it on and off pre that blog appearing. I’ve deleted and deleted, blocked and reported, and then that blog came and then it was out there, and I could do nothing. I just had to stare and read it, had to hope that people knew who I was.

and look, I say none of this for sympathy, but more an acknowledgment that not everything that stands past the ground shaking is stable. that people don’t always know or feel able to ask or share that they’re hurting. and then it’s isolating, it’s dark and it’s fucking lonely.

which is what leads me to my final thing, which is thank you. thank you to every single person who has reached out to check if I’m okay, to offer the option of a vent or a thot, and the ones that have even just sent love hearts. and also thank you to those who have thought about sending something to me or instead disputed or reported that blog.

I know on the post above by birdee and commented on by han mentions about checking in with people, and I just want to echo that point so loud. if you’re unsure what to do it this happens again (maybe not even now - god I hope - or in this fandom, but in the future) from someone who was mentioned, it’s check in.

similar to han (you worded it perfectly and I’m going to butcher it) it validated how shitty I was feeling, it allowed me to feel okay taking space to be mad and to be sad, because someone else was agreeing it was wrong. those things seem easy on the surface until your North Star has gone, until your upside down and topsy turvy. and if you’re reading this and thinking “bit fucking dramatic jo” then I ask you to kindly unfollow me, no hard feelings, or anything.

because in my eyes, anyone would feel a little disconcerted when their hobby doesn’t feel safe or provide the same comfort it did. when your hobby is the thing you look forward to, and then you can’t enjoy it because there’s a thousand thoughts running around and it feels so anxiety provoking. and yeah, I know there will be people who will go “it’s just tumblr” but I’ve been here a while, this isn’t my first rodeo here, and I just never wish for anyone else to feel like this. ever. no one deserves the hobby they love to be tarnished by shadows that shout and spew things, that you can’t fight back against, because you don’t know who they are.

but kind voices eventually break through and smother the unkind ones. they do. they have.

and I know for me, those check ins and messages brought me comfort when I needed it. they helped.

so if you’re unsure what to do, take comfort that a little love does help. it isn’t magic, it doesn’t fix it all, but it does make a difference, and that matters too.

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

The common thread I've seen in a lot of posts about Ted's decision to return to Kansas is the question of whether he's happier there or in Richmond. Here's the thing, though: in my view, Ted's character arc is not about (or not only about) finding a place where he is happy, but rather learning to coexist with discomfort so that he can be present for the people and in the place that matters most to him.

When Ted is sixteen years old, his father commits suicide. His mother doesn't know how to process her grief or help Ted process his, so she pushes all her messy, painful emotions down under a blanket of cheerful optimism and Ted follows suit. He grows into adulthood unable to acknowledge his sadness or anger, which leads to the dissolution of his marriage. (Ted's reaction to Dottie during her visit illustrates how wearing this attitude would be from the other side.) Michelle asks for space, very likely intending for him to move into another house in the same city where he could do an equal share of co-parenting, and instead he moves halfway across the world to coach a sport he knows nothing about.

Ted builds a community in Richmond, because of course he does: he is very, very good at connecting with people. Part of that is because he's determined not to let anyone get by him who might be hurting, as he says, but he's also clearly a naturally sociable person — there is virtually no way he didn't have these kinds of connections in Kansas. While his life in Richmond seems more "real" to us, the audience, because that's the part of his life we see, for Ted, his "real life" has always been in Kansas. He misses Henry, obviously, but he's also intensely homesick: for most of the show, he fails to integrate to a degree that seems almost wilful; he only tells stories about his life in Kansas and the people he knew there; he goes to a terrible American restaurant in Amsterdam and the first thing he thinks of when he sees Van Gogh's Sunflowers is home.

All of which is to say that while Ted creates some deep and hopefully lasting connections in Richmond, it's not where he fundamentally wants to be. He wants to be present for his son; he wants to live in the state where he grew up and which he clearly loves — and that means facing his grief and anger at his father's suicide, and the fact that Henry will one day grow up and leave him, and the reality of his divorce and his ex-wife's new relationship (although I really, really wish they'd chosen literally any other man to be the new boyfriend if they didn't want to address the implications of Michelle dating their former marriage counsellor).

[sky-scribbles]

Playlist for my Aeor longfic

I failed to figure out how to do a fancy spotify embed like the kids do but uh. Here's the playlist for Gravity!

I listened to this while planning and writing, and there are even a few shout-outs to the songs in the fic... Songs are arranged chronologically, so you should be able to hear the story happening, hopefully :'D

Further yelling about song choices under the cut!

A Matter of Time - This one is... sort of the fic's opening titles in my head? I wanted to start out with an instrumental, to capture the vibes of the months before the fic opens - Essek and Caleb apart, thinking about the T-Dock, and each other. Wondering. Waiting.

Horse to Water - Essek in Chapter 1, knowing his life as the Shadowhand is ending, waiting for Caleb to come and take him away to whatever comes next. (I'm normally very picky about not putting songs that reference modern day stuff on fantasy playlists but this one's vibes were too perfect)

Dear Fellow Traveller - Two wizards heading into Aeor together.

Conquest of Spaces - A song for Aeor. A dark, beautiful city, the remains of a people who lived by greed and power. (And two wizards in the ruins, trying to draw closer to each other.)

Neptune - This is mostly for Essek's breakdown in chapter 5, as he worries he'll never break out of his Shadowhand manipulation, wanting to be closer to Caleb and not knowing what that would even look like. And it's a little for Caleb in chapter 6, too, grappling with his feelings for Essek and his fears that they'll ultimately be bad for each other.

Please Don't Say You Love Me - ... and as they move past those fears, this song is for them tentatively acknowledging what they might be to each other. Not yet. But maybe soon.

Woodwork - This is for the chapters 6-9 span, as they learn more about Brashaar's plan. The pressure of a crisis has an odd way of making them realise just how deep their trust and care for each other runs.

Two Evils - Since we're at the point where Brashaar shows up, she gets a song now! This is pretty much her internal monologue during her confrontation with the wizards (though she really should have paid attention to 'if you're not careful, you will lose her' in reference to Quaera...)

Winter - Travelling northward, and yearning. Wishing they had more time.

Mind - A song for a young Quaera, slowly forming a personality, wondering about who she is and how her identity forms...

The Tower - ... and having their own breakdown.

What Could Have Been - I love me a good villainous breakdown, and this is a song for Brashaar's. This is how I imagine she feels during the final confrontation, raging against the gods, against Caleb and Essek, against Quaera after they turn from her. Not quite able to let go of what she thinks Aeor could have been. What, in her eyes, the world is meant to be. (As a bonus, I think the second verse sounds a bit like a retort to her from Quaera...)

Everybody Wants to Rule the World - This is such a fun cinematic cover, and I can't tell you how many times I've imagined a mental AMV of the final battle with Brashaar set to it :'D

Ori, Embracing the Light - I wanted an instrumental here too, because... Essek is dead, Caleb is in shutdown, and Essek and Quaera are communing with the Luxon, a being that doesn't really speak with words. Also, 'embracing the light' is exactly what Quaera does at this point.

Would That I - I know we all use this as Caleb's 'learning to live and love again' song... and I am no exception. This is for him after the T-Dock, finally fully acknowledging his grief, and his love for Essek.

First Day of my Life - Just two wizards realising that they have a future, and agreeing to slowly work at what's between them.

Ready to Call This Love - This one speaks for itself, honestly.

Five - Both of the wizards in the final chapter, but especially Essek realising how isolated he's been from the world, and letting it all in so he can feel it. (Also, studying the universe is a love language - )

Gravity - Gravity is a metaphor for love!!!!

[rowdyhughesy]

"You know how I feel about you" with Arber please! 🤍

Thank you for requesting🖤

The fight had been well, big. A discussion that got out of hand. A discussion that had been months in the making but swept under the rug like dust time and time again. Tiptoeing around the fact that he was your boyfriend but at the same time he wasn’t.

The strange grey area where neither of you are seeing other people but not having put a label on it. Together but not really together, friends but also more than friends.

It had been a whirlwind of screaming and tugging of hair in personal frustration in the living room of Arbers apartment. It didn’t matter that it was 3am and neighbours were sleeping because all you could see were red.

“The one thing I’m asking Arber is that you actually acknowledge that we aren’t just friends. Either you want me or you don’t. Make your choice.” The fight had ended with you grabbing your bag from the bedroom and a slam of the front door. Not giving him a second to say anything else. It was time for him to think about what he wants and if what he wants even is you at this point.

That had been a week ago. A week of radio silence from both ends. Not even a good luck text on his games or a congrats when they won one of them. No I’m sorry, you guys did your best when they lost. Nothing. And that was killing him.

He missed your arm wrapped around him in the mornings when he had a day off and you could sleep in. Body curled up behind him, chest pressed against his back and soft breathing leaving goosebumps on his neck. It was torture. So he caved.

He didn’t buy any flowers, no candy or stuffed animal because he wanted what he had to say to matter more than a store bought I’m sorry gift. He would buy you as many gift as your heart desires after he makes things right.

Wrapped in blankets on your couch you’re watching some reality show on Netflix, something to ease your mind from its turmoils and fill the silence that came with not having Arber running around the space. Until loud determined knocking on your door breaks the trance you’ve been in for days.

Brows furrowed you stand up from your previous seat, sock clad feet shuffling over the hardwood floor. You don’t even care to look in the peephole before opening your door. Wishing you had done that as you come face to face with Arber.

Staring up at him with a frown he awkwardly scratches his neck before shyly asking if he can come inside. You think about it for a few seconds before stepping aside, opening the door more as if to say go ahead. His hand brushes yours as he walks past. Sending warmth from your fingertips to your bones. Something you’ve missed.

Following after him back to your living room he just stands in the middle of the room. As if this is a new environment he’s never been in before when in reality he’s been in this space more times than you can count. “You know how I feel about you. I just didn’t know how to say it but I do now. I want you. I wanted you a week ago and I’ll want you everyday that’s comes after. I messed up not asking you to be my girlfriend and I know that. So what I’m asking is, do you still want me?”

Blinking away the moisture in your eyes you look up at him. The sad puppy look on his face as he waits for your answer. Waiting for you to do whatever because he’s standing there with his heart on his sleeve giving it to you for real this time.

“I want you too. I choose you and I’ve chosen you since you kissed me for the first time.”

[raybeanschildrenslit]

If You’re a Kid Like Gavin: The True Story of a Young Trans Activist - Nonfiction

If You’re a Kid Like Gavin: The True Story of a Young Trans Activist by Gavin Grimm, Kyle Lukoff, J Yang (Illustrator) - (Nonfiction) Published 2022 by Katherine Tegen Books

This is one of those books that once I had finished reading and set it to the side, I felt like crying. This is one of those books that I wish I had when I was younger to help me feel seen for who I was and am, and to have it be valid and normal and wonderful.

Gavin Grimm is a trans activist who started his journey in activism in high school in 2015, the same year I graduated high school. He released this children’s non-fiction book about seven years later, sharing his experiences and normalizing trans identities for young- and hopefully all age- readers. While Gavin doesn’t share everything with us about his journey in his trans identity, he doesn’t have to, instead he reaches out to the reader in ways that make this aspect of life feel more natural and normal. For many, this can be a heartwarming moment. A place where we are recognized and acknowledged through someone like us generously sharing a fraction of their story. He walks us through coming into his identity, the issues that arose as he more so entered the world, and the actions he took to rally for rights and change. His story is far from over. In the snippet of it he is sharing, he says in his author’s note, “I hope people come away recognizing that we all have important choices to make in our lives- being kind, leading with love, standing up for yourself and others- whereas living our lives as the people we are is not a choice; it's a right. I hope that this story shows kids their own power and what they can do” (Grimm, 2022).

As someone who identifies with transness- identifying as Non-Binary Trans-Masc Queer- it is important that all versions of transness are expressed as they can be and remind others regardless of where they are in their journey that they are real, valid, true. Like I said, I could have used this when I was younger. I applaud Gavin for finding himself so strongly and standing up for what he knows is right. I am his age and still don’t really know who I am but if I had an ounce of his clarity when I was younger I could have saved some heartache, toxicity, and a few tears. I won't go into it but everyone, regardless of queerness or transness, is important and valuable and amazing and stunning. As someone who is queer and wants to push for social justice, diversity, recognition, safety, human rights… I want to be the librarian that shuts down bigotry and ignorance while creating a safe and free environment for the patrons- especially the YA individuals I want to work with, feel seen and heard and safe. I understand that I am repeating myself but I am passionate about this and that’s what happens with me. I think there are a lot of creative ways we can express ourselves in a smaller environment scale; making name tags with preferred/ correct names and pronouns, making zines of our identities, and experiences, hosting a queer club safe space for media discussion and community work. On a slightly larger scale, I can see myself reaching out and collecting resources for people to use and provide opportunities for parades, peaceful protests, celebrations, safe spaces and community gatherings beyond the library, and more.

-Ray 02/11/2024

Grimm, G., Lukoff, K., & Yang, J. (2022). If you’re A Kid Like Gavin. Katherine Tegen Books, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers.

[vagabond-umlaut]

STARS.

GLOWING BALLS OF BURNING GASES, LIGHTING THE DARK OF THE NIGHT SKY. PEOPLE OF TALENT, FAMOUS AND MUCH LOVED BY THE GENERAL POPULACE. FORCES OF FATE, INFLUENCING & DETERMINING THE LIVES OF US, MORTALS.

ONE SMALL WORD YET SO COMPLICATED IN ITS MEANINGS, IS IT NOT?

YES, INDEED IT IS— THOUGH, CERTAINLY NOT AS MUCH AS THE STORY OF ONE KING OF CURSES & HIS WIFE— WHAT DO YOU THINK, MR. SUKUNA & MS. KORE?

*The camera focuses on one of the most well-known and beloved couples from the renowned TV show Jujutsu Kaisen. Despite being six years younger in age and over ten years younger in acting experience, the woman seems every gram the seasoned acting professional the man beside her is; although, a lot more cheerful and friendly than the latter. [The almost-absence of space between them doesn't go past the eye of anyone— nevertheless, the interviewer chooses not to comment on the same. For now, that is.] Kore greets the camera with a happy smile and a wave whilst Sukuna acknowledges the same with a minor twitch of his lips— the two of them then returning their focus to the interviewer.*

KORE: *chuckles* AH, NO, I DON'T THINK THEIR STORY IS AS COMPLICATED AS IT IS BEING MADE TO BE. IT IS A RATHER SIMPLE, SWEET AND SUCCINCT TALE OF LOVE, SET IN ANOTHER ERA. SUKUNA: *nodding* I AGREE. KORE'S & MY CHARACTERS SURE DO HAVE QUITE OPPOSING PERSONALITIES IN THE SHOW— ONE, WORSE THAN A DEMON AND THE OTHER, BETTER THAN AN ANGEL– BUT THAT DOESN'T REALLY MAKE THE STORY COMPLEX OR DIFFICULT. THEY FALL IN LOVE LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE DO AND WISH TO STAY TOGETHER FOREVER LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE DO– PERHAPS IN AN EVEN BETTER WAY BECAUSE OF THEIR OPPOSITE NATURES ATTRACTING EACH OTHER.

WOW, THAT MUST HAVE BEEN THE FIRST TIME MR. SUKUNA'S SPOKEN FOR SO LONG IN AN INTERVIEW, RIGHT? YOUR FANS, ME INCLUDED, ARE SHOCKED TO SAY THE LEAST. WOW...

KORE: *giggling at Sukuna, the latter looking away and coughing* SUKUNA TENDS TO BE VOCAL ABOUT THE THINGS HE IS PASSIONATE ABOUT— THIS CONCEPT OF OPPOSITES ATTRACTING IS JUST ONE SUCH THING.

OHH. I SEE. AND DID THAT SAME THEORY OF OPPOSITES ATTRACTING PLAY A ROLE IN DECIDING YOUR OUTFITS TONIGHT?

KORE: *stays silent for a while before answering* YOU CAN SAY THAT... BUT TO BE HONEST, IT'S MUCH DEEPER THAN THAT. *shares a small, almost secretive smile with Sukuna*

OOH! NOW, I'M INTRIGUED— EXACTLY HOW DEEP DID THOSE REASONS BEHIND TONIGHT'S OUTFITS RUN, MS. KORE?

KORE: *huffs a chuckle* NOT VERY DEEP, I PROMISE!— BUT I ASSUME YOU KNOW TONIGHT'S THEME IS STAR-CROSSED LOVERS, DON'T YOU? AS DECIDED BY THE STUNNING HOST OF THE GALA, AND MY DARLING FRIEND, MARA [@margumis]?

YES, OF COURSE!!

KORE: *smiles widely* TONIGHT'S OUTFITS WERE INFLUENCED BOTH BY THAT AND BY WHAT YOU MENTIONED EARLIER. IN MY GREEN DRESS AND GOLDEN ACCESSORIES, YOU COULD SAY I'M THE PRINCESS FROM OUR SHOW– ROYAL, ELEGANT & A SYMBOL OF JOYFUL ENERGY, AS THE COLOUR GREEN DEPICTS. SUKUNA: AND MY RED & BLACK TUX REFERS TO THE EVIL KING OF CURSES— THE POLAR OPPOSITE TO THIS SWEET LADY. *sends a very conspicuous wink to Kore*

THE VISION'S GETTING MUCH CLEARER NOW... BUT WHERE IS THE THEME OF THE STAR-CROSSED– YOU DID NOT JUST CALL THEM STAR-CROSSED LOVERS 'CAUSE OF THE MANY PROBLEMS THEY'RE FACING CURRENTLY, DID YOU? ARE THEY NOT GOING TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING? OH MY GOSH... IS THIS YOU BOTH POSSIBLY GIVING THE WORLD A SPOILER RIGHT NOW?

SUKUNA: *glancing at Kore with a smirk* AT THIS MOMENT, WE DO SEEM TO BE A BIT STAR-CROSSED, DON'T WE, MY QUEEN? *Kore nods, muffling her laughter with a palm*

WELP, DEAR VIEWERS— SEEMS LIKE THIS IS THE MOST WE CAN KNOW FROM OUR BELOVED ROYAL COUPLE— NOW, RETURNING TO THE IRL DUO– WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE ASPECT OF THE OTHER'S OUTFIT?

KORE: NOTHING— EXCEPT THE FACT HE LOOKS A LEGIT FIVE-COURSE MEAL IN THAT SUIT, MAYBE? SUKUNA: *sighing deeply* I WISH GETO WAS YOUR MENTOR IN PLACE OF THAT GOJO– HE IS A TALENTED ACTOR BUT A PATHETIC TEACHER. MORESO IN THE FIELD OF ROMANCE. YOU CHOSE THE WORST PERSON EVER TO ASK FOR TIPS. KORE: *coos, moving to pinch Sukuna's cheeks* BUT THEY'RE WORKING ON YOU, AREN'T THEY? SEE, HOW PINK HIS CHEEKS HAVE TURNED! ALMOST AS MUCH AS HIS HAIR— HAHAHA–

IT PAINS ME TO INTERRUPT THIS CUTE MOMENT BETWEEN YOU TWO— BUT, SADLY I'VE HIGHER AUTHORITIES TO ANSWER IF I DON'T ASK YOU ALL THESE QUESTIONS ON THE SCRIPT—

KORE: *moves a bit away with a sheepish smile* UM, SORRY!! PLEASE ASK. SUKUNA: *rights his clothes, then smiles politely* YES, PLEASE CONTINUE.

THANK YOU!! SO, MS. KORE, CONSIDERING THIS IS YOUR DEBUT GALA, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS?

KORE: I'M TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF THE BLR GALA '23!! INCREDIBLY NOVEL. INCREDIBLY BEAUTIFUL. MARA, MY SWEETEST ANGEL, I'M SIMPLY IN AWE OF YOUR MARVELLOUS BRAIN, GIRL! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PLANNING THIS!!! AND I LOVE YOU!!!

WHAT ABOUT YOU, MR. SUKUNA? THIS IS YOUR FIRST TIME ATTENDING THESE EVENTS WITH SOMEONE BESIDE YOU, ISN'T IT? WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS?

SUKUNA: *shares a brief yet visibly soft look with Kore, before looking ahead* I'M VERY HAPPY, HAVING KORE BY MY SIDE. BESIDES BEING A WONDERFUL CO-STAR, SHE IS ALSO AN AMA—

*A loud yell of Sukuna's name interrupts him. The camera moves from them, to Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru in the distance, the white-haired man jumping up and down with an exuberant beam while his black-haired companion waves his hand. Kore and Sukuna look at each other once, the former with a bright grin & the latter with a sigh, before looking at the interviewer.*

SUKUNA: *smiling apologetically* I'M SORRY BUT IF THEY'RE HERE, THE REST OF THE GANG TOO WILL BE HERE PRETTY SOON— KORE: WE'RE SORRY BUT I THINK WE OUGHT TO CUT THE INTERVIEW A LITTLE SHORT NOW. *offers a contrite smile*

OH, PLEASE DON'T BE SORRY!! I GET IT. WE ALL GET IT. THANK YOU SO MUCH, MR. SUKUNA & MS. KORE, FOR ATTENDING THIS INTERVIEW. I, ON BEHALF OF EVERYONE ELSE, WISH YOU AND YOUR SHOW A STELLAR FUTURE AHEAD! WE ARE CERTAIN JUJUTSU KAISEN WILL BE AN IMMENSE SUCCESS!!! THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN!!

KORE: *bows* THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SWEET WISHES! WE'LL BE SURE TO NEVER DISAPPOINT YOU ALL. SUKUNA: *bows* THANK YOU ALL.

*With a happy goodbye and another whispered apology from Kore, and a small smile from Sukuna, both of them walk in the direction of their co-stars and friends– where, sure enough, many more well-known faces can be viewed. The camera returns to the inerviewer after a moment.*

WISH WE HAD MORE TIME TO ASK THEM MORE QUESTIONS, DEAR VIEWERS— BUT ONE THING REMAINS UNQUESTIONED. MR. SUKUNA & MS. KORE HAVE AN IMMENSE POTENTIAL TO BE ONE OF THE LOVELIEST COUPLES IN THE– HUH??

*The camera shifts from the astonished face of the interviewer, to where Sukuna and Kore are walking. Hand-in-hand. The camera lingers there for a moment before going back to the interviewer. The latter blinks at the camera– with a mildly disbelieving yet an excited smile, nonetheless.*

THE SHIP IS VERY CLOSE TO SAILING— OR HAS IT ALREADY SAILED, FOLKS?

[violottie]

I cant stress enough how much bi lesbians and bi lesbian discourse flared up my SO-ocd, I was fine for a few months and then I returned to this side of tumblr and I get reminded of them. One of my worst fears is that I am somehow a “bi lesbian” or if after all these years of questioning and finally coming to the conclusion that I’m a lesbian I’ll turn out to be straight in the end. Idk if I should have stayed on the art side of tumblr but where else do I find other lesbians??? I wish I could go back to when I didn’t know “bi lesbians” existed it was easier back then. Apparently the only thing to make intrusive thoughts subside is to be like “so what if I’m not a lesbian, who cares” but I cant do that. I wanna go back to when I didn’t know there were people who deliberately fake being gay because that’s also one of my fears,, even though when I realized I was a lesbian it felt like I REALIZED it rather than chose it

(this is gonna be long but it's very important to talk about so just a heads up on that)

i am so so sorry to hear this, and im infuriated that these fucking creeps in the "community" have caused not only so much blatant lesbophobia to spread but also have caused so much harm to lesbians.

i am right with you because ive been through, and still go through sometimes, what you're experiencing. its terrifying that all this bullshit can snowball and make any doubts we lesbians already have from living in this heterosexual patriarchal society double and multiply even more viciously.

my internalised lesbophobia has worsened also. i doubt myself alot and more often thanks to all this bs. its... i dont even have words to express how damaging lesbophobia, especially from within the "community", is.

it causes harm and trauma and pain and suffering for lesbians, but all these stupid juvenile shits just think it doesnt matter because "uwu theyre so kweer and cool now"

it sucks... but i need you to know it is not your fault that you feel this way.

no matter what anyone inside or outside the community says, and no matter what your spiralling thoughts might make you believe as a result of lesbophobia inside and outside the community, you are not straight, you are not a "bi lesbian", you are not bisexual. you are a lesbian.

i know it is so so hard to just say but i promise you, nothing they say will ever ever change the reality of your lesbianism. i promise you.

it hurts, and its beyond infuriating to have to share space with these disrespectful bastards who coopt our lived experience for a moment of attempted self-actualisation, and that pain deserves to be acknowledged and soothed, not pushed away.

i wish i could give you a hug rn honestly because this shit just fucking sucks. i too wish i could go back to the time when these idiots werent even a concept in my mind or memory, but if there is any advice i can give you to help ease the torment of this constant barrage, it is this:

❤️🧡🤍🩷💖

1) know, for a fact, that nothing anyone, and i mean ANYONE says and no matter how loud they say it, will ever change the lived and exact reality of your innate sexuality.

nothing will ever magic away your lesbianism. it is wired into you, it IS you, a very central part of your personhood. that is not something that any words, especially words shat out of the asshole of a dickhead child on the internet, can ever change.

im not disregarding the hurt, im just reminding you that who you are, who you truly are, cannot change because of the words that hurt. especially because you know deep down that those words are not true.

because being a lesbian is who you are. it is not a quota to reach, or what you do, it is who we are. innately. you know where your natural attactions lie, what genders draw your attraction exclusively and without effort. you know that deep down. we are literally born this way. words cannot change that.

❤️🧡🤍🩷💖

2) the best thing to do whenever you accidentally glimpse said bullshit is to block them and focus on uplifting the actual lesbian community.

lesbians community is such an integral lifeline, i cannot emphasise the sheer importance of enough.

these idiots are, after all, idiots and do not deserve your energy, your time or your pain. they will never matter, and the truth is, they only exist on the internet among weirdos who have no sense of self so seek it by stealing bits and pieces from other peoples personal experience and identity.

they are and always will be inauthentic, unlike you.

❤️🧡🤍🩷💖

3) find and focus on the joy of your lesbianism individually and in lesbian community with other lesbians.

We lesbians are blessed to experience the best kind of human life possible: lesbianism.

our sexuality is bold and strong and proud and beautiful and brilliant and effervescent. it is perfect and brave and worthy of honor and praise and celebration and respect.

our community of lesbians is just as exquisite as we are individually. we are diverse and divine. every butch, femme, stud, stone, masc and feminine lesbian; every trans woman, transmasc, transfem and nonbinary lesbian; every black and brown and lesbian of color; every aromantic, asexual, aroace, non-partnering and polyamourous lesbian; every lesbian of every age and race is so overflown with wisdom and joy and love and brilliance. there is nothing more empowering as a lesbian and nothing that strengthens lesbian pride more than being in a community of lesbians and finding joy in ourselves through each other.

and im not just saying this to be mushy. i mean it. lesbians are divine, and thus, you are also divine.

you are perfect as a lesbian because you ARE a lesbian. you are incredible and intelligent and brilliant and brave.

nothing will change the brilliance of who you are, and in everything you are as a lesbian, you have a universe of lesbians who have been, who are and who will be, all of whom have not only been through the same and similar demeaning bs from the same kind of lesbophobic idiots, but they fought it back and survived and lived and thrived as lesbians.

you are just as strong as every lesbian who has been and is. and you are not alone. i promise you.

i am slowly rebuilding the community of lesbians on this blog that i had on my old one, but i promise you, on my blog you are safe. i swear, i will always always put lesbians first here, and that includes you. i will always defend and support and celebrate lesbians first here, and here you will find many other lesbians who will do the same.

❤️🧡🤍🩷💖

i know this was long, im sorry about that but i just need you to know that i see and feel your pain with you, and i need you to know that you arent going through it alone, and you are not alone.

we lesbians have always stuck together to defend and fight for one another, we have always survived, we have always been here, and we always will be.

i hope this reassures you in some way, and know you're always welcome and safe here ❤️🧡🤍🩷💖

[actual-changeling]

poetry/flow of consciousness that got a bit out of hand

—

It gets hard to find reasons once you think about it too hard. Does it matter, really, any of this, when my head will come out the other side exactly as it is? When change is little more than the empty promise you tell yourself at the end of the day to fall asleep?

Tomorrow, it will all be different. Tomorrow, I will become a new person. Tomorrow, all my problems will no longer be too heavy to carry. Tomorrow—the day that never comes, no matter how long you wait for it.

There is only now, this moment, this exact fraction of time that is over before we even acknowledge it, and yet the universe is irrevocably changed with every single one. I blink and matter moves, electrons get flung into space and caught by atoms forming my retina, my optic nerve, my body nothing but a being of consistent change. Does it count, though, when change is the constant?

Is it still change when there is nothing else?

Nothing ever truly stands still, we're all moving away from something, our goal barely more than the fragile hope that we will open our eyes again tomorrow. Variables, infinite variables and probabilities, and yet if you look back, most of it is a straight path, a story told in the right order, a life that happened to be lived exactly the way you lived it. We think about missed chances and 'what if's—everything we wanted but never received, everything we got that we wished we hadn't—while neither of us would be without all of it.

Trying to find a purpose, a reason for the pain and suffering, an entity to blame so your screams go somewhere and don't ripple until they fade away, the universe forever changed and somehow the same.

There is no purpose.

There are no reasons, and we cannot accept it, the idea of life—short, unremarkable, unimportant—needs to amass to more than what we can process. Chance brought us to where we are, and it will bring us to where we will be, and when our bodies disintegrate in the ground until the solar system crumbles and slowly, oh so slowly, the universe begins to die, there will be no one left to ask questions, and existence won't have mattered.

There is movement regardless of whether we want it or not, and as much as there is a 'now' to preside in, we could all die tomorrow and it will change the universe like a blink changes your life.

It happens. It will happen again.

Something moves, something almost, almost touches, but it's never quite there, and somewhere, it will keep moving even when the ripples fade. Nothing ever truly stops being utterly alone, and yet it sings, it screams, a choir of change birthing another and another and another; life as we know it, time as it passes.

Maybe insignificance scares some—or many—people, the desire to build something that will outlast you is inherent to almost every being, but it doesn't scare me, it never has. Surrounded by noise, there is holy loneliness in being the only one who listens to the songs your body sings you.

Alive, alive! Stay alive, keep changing to be someone, yourself, and there is a sonata in the blood cells making you breathe and an etude in the palm you press to your cheek.

The change we carry, the change we are, ripples in a pond that do not fade until they do before they begin again. Throw another stone, close your eyes, turn off the light, and hope that tomorrow will come. Hope that the pond won't freeze now, hope that in the daylight, the change it elicits will give you the reasons you're so desperately searching for.

None of it will last, and while it might not matter when you look past the pond, the water is singing—and you are listening. You ARE the song, just as you are the choir, just as you are one single voice drowning in a cacophony of sound.

None of it will last, none of it will outlast the pond, yet for one single moment in time—so fractional it passes before we know it—there are nothing but ripples and nothing remains unchanged.

Then everything stops.

But it was there, missed by no one and preserved in nothingness, but it was—and maybe that is reason enough.

[avelera]

Having a Neil Gaiman moment over here when I realized you saw my tags. Like, “Oh this author I adore that who I know reads their tags might notice, but oh well!” And then just doing a tag ramble because that’s what one does on tumblr, and then. WELP. The mortifying ordeal of your tags being known. 🤣

Anyways!! I would love anything you’re willing to do for Calliope’s perspective. You’ve done one of my favorite characterizations of her that I’ve seen and it’s arresting in the best way. I want to know more of her in this world, Pre-Madoc, and see what she thinks after everything is said and done and if this human truly IS the match of her ex husband. It’s just so fascinating to think about her perspective of their relationship as an outsider with intimate knowledge of Dream and what it means for where Hob and Dream are at!

Friend-o I religiously read my tags you don't understand like how much I'm obsessed with seeing every little thought people might have about my work! (LOL, meanwhile I too live in terror of one my critiques of Mr Gaiman's work from a literary angle one day making it back to him, eep!)

I will say, without diving into prose for it, that Giving Sanctuary Calliope being Pre-Madoc was very central to planning out her character.

I wanted her to be even more strident and powerful than we see her in canon. There's... hmm... something of a theme that plays into with Giving Sanctuary, that's based on my own lived experience, that sometimes it can take quite a while for powerful, confident people to recognize and admit that something traumatic has happened to them and that it has changed them? And there are scars left behind the first time something really bad happens to a person who had previously thought themselves untouchable? So this is not to say that Calliope was in any way weakened by her time with Madoc, but she might have been changed by it, and at least when we see her in the immediate aftermath, she's more quiet and reserved than she might have been before he captured her, before she's had any time to heal and go back to her old self (insofar as anyone can).

I think to express this is not to diminish the experience of the victim, but to rather acknowledge the violence of the hurt? Calliope was more strident and self-assured, more powerful in the way she took up space before she was captured.

Dream before Orpheus died was happier and it did make him shrink into himself and harden towards the world and become icy and cruel and callous towards the suffering of others when his son died and his wife left him and it felt like the whole world turned against him at once so he lashed back harder and shut Calliope from his kingdom. The whole fic begins because a moment's kindness and empathy from Hob awakens Dream to the realization that Lucienne is afraid of him, that him being party to "cursing" Hob with immortality when Hob hadn't done anything to him and indeed, showed him kindness when they spoke the first time, was monstrously cruel and unjustifiable. Dream as a powerful person took two thousand years to admit that a bad thing happened to him and he can't just use his power to wish it all away and Dream of 1,000 Cats Orpheus back to life! That there's no fixing this and he's been hurt and it changed him, deeply.

And finally, likewise, with Hob. Hob was at the top of the world in 1589! Even when he embarked upon having a family and trying to do it all "right" he did it from a place of hubris, as one who had never really been hurt before. It never occurred to him that his wife or children could die young, or hate him for his immortality, or that some other tragedy could befall them. He waited until he did everything "right" in terms of wealth and status and had a family and thought having waited and planned that long would somehow shield him from the random tragedy of chance, and it didn't. He is scarred by that tragedy, he has shrunk within himself, he is trying to claw his way back and he has faith that he will, someday, but that time is now lost, that suffering has now been felt, he has seen those depths of deprivation and he will never be the same. I headcanon that in canon, without Dream's help, this set Hob on a path to becoming the apathetic, self-centered monster in the 1700s who was so focused on regaining wealth and status after losing them so traumatically that he didn't give a fuck about entering the "shipping business" to do it! GS Hob has already diverged from that path, just by having Dream's kindness and mercy stop his descent into becoming more like Dream over the next century of self-defensive cruelty.

... None of which was your question about Calliope BUT! At the risk of this getting even more insanely long, I will say this:

For Calliope, the most humiliating part of her separation from Dream was Dream becoming a monster. It already took a great deal of courage for her to flout her entire family to marry him in the first place, I can't even imagine having my wedding boycotted by my family? So for him to be so cruel to Orpheus, for Orpheus to then die, and for Dream to just shut himself off from the world and become this icy monster who doesn't give a fuck about anyone and barred his own wife from his realm? That was humiliating for Calliope. It made her feel like maybe she was an idiot, maybe her family was right all along!

The hope she sees in Hob is for him to make Dream a good person again, the person he was when he was in love with her. The person she felt was worthy of her hand in marriage. She recognizes with age and experience that the bitterness began to brew between her and Dream because she couldn't give him the sort of 24/7 clingy affection he craved because how lonely he was being Dream of the Endless, he wanted a personal life so badly and so when she wanted to go create, he grew increasingly bitter about it, because the thing that brought them together (creating) was now driving them apart (Dream just wants to cuddle when she wants to make art together!). She sees in Hob, who has been in love with Dream for 300 years, who is human, who is good for him, who makes him smile, and who *can be* that personal life to Dream, joyfully!, that Calliope saw as her second priority after being a Muse, and she has hope. Not just for Dream, but for herself, that maybe she just wasn't quite the right person for Dream, this famous ex husband of hers. And if Hob works out, Dream will become kind again, and she'll be able to point to him to her family and say, "See, I wasn't the right person, but we were happy for a time, and now he IS with the right person and just look at him. Look at how kind and wonderful and full of joy he is, the Lord of the Dreaming. That is the man I married. That was the person who was worthy of me. And you were wrong to say I was a fool for marrying that person, because he is worthy of love."

[defectivehero]

Hi how are you🤍

I was thinking of a prompt where they’re enemies and whenever person A walks in on person B laughing with their friends or just smiling, they just stop smiling and become stoic and professional and it really irritates person A as they grew fond of hearing their laugh and they’re just confused and annoyed as to why they feel mad over this and they decide to maybe confront person B, maybe they’re in the enemies to reluctant Allies phase idk it’s up to you,

Sorry for the long request, it’s completely fine if you don’t feel like writing it!!!

hope you have a great day<3 and happy new year 🤍

I am absolutely ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated at the sheer amount of time it took me to complete this. anon, I am so so sorry. I hope this makes up for it? lol.

The detective seems so happy with everyone else. Whenever the thief catches glimpses of them working with their teammates, they’re all pleasant smiles and playful shoves. It’s like they're an entirely different person. The thief isn’t sure why this annoys them so much, but it does. 

The detective, their detective, has a wonderful smile- loathe they are to admit it. The thief isn’t sure how they lived without this knowledge before. Every time they encounter the detective, they try to get them to smile, laugh, do anything other than stare at them with that infuriatingly blank expression. Hell, the thief even tried knock-knock jokes. The only thing that resulted from their sudden attempt at comedy, however, was a painful, awkward silence that permeated the space between the detective and themselves. 

“I don’t understand,” the thief blurts out one day, when they find the words slipping off their tongue. They're leaning against a museum exhibit that should definitely not be leaned against. The detective’s furrowed eyebrows and irritated expression are proof of this. The thief wishes the detective’s happiness was as common as their annoyance.

“Hm?” The detective’s response is several moments late. It seems they’re lost in thought, today. What could they possibly be distracted by? The most distracting thing in existence is standing right before them- the thief themselves! They sigh and push themselves away from the exhibit. They think they hear the detective murmur “Finally,” but they decide to ignore it. 

“You’re so vibrant with everyone else,” the thief explains. It takes all of their effort not to read into that statement and grow flustered at the acknowledgement. “When you’re with me, you’re... flat.”

“Flat,” the detective repeats, raising an eyebrow. The expression on their face is unreadable, yet there’s a small hint of their evident desire to understand just what they’re alluding to. 

“You don’t smile, laugh,” the thief continues, unable to stop the words from falling from their lips. They’re well aware of the likely possibility that they’re digging their own grave here but, even so, they have to know. “I don’t understand it.”

“Well,” the detective remarks with a frown. There's that infamous curious gleam to their eyes and the thief knows they’re interested in this mystery, too. For a long moment, the pair is entirely silent. The thief resists the urge to snag the nearest artifact and run for the hills. “We don’t exactly have time for that.”

“I see,” the thief hums, although they’re not quite sure they see anything. The detective notices their hesitation- as they always do- and lets out a long suffering sigh. 

“More importantly, you need to give up on comedy,” the detective accuses, quickly switching topics. The thief’s eyebrows furrow but they generously allow for the conversation to change pace. “It is absolutely not for you.”

The thief’s eyes widen and they stare at their adversary in disbelief. There’s a slight choking sound for a fraction of a moment. The noise is short and hardly noticeable, but the thief latches onto it. There’s only two people in this room, after all.

“Did you just laugh?” The thief asks, unable to keep the glee from their voice.

“No!” The detective hisses, their fists clenched at their sides. They freeze, as if surprised at themselves for the outburst. It’s endlessly amusing to watch as they shake their head and try to revert back to their uncaring image. 

“You did laugh,” the thief says, a smile growing on their face. For once, it feels as if they have the upper hand. It’s a nice change of pace. 

“You’re so weird,” the detective scoffs, crossing their arms over their chest. The thief is too wrapped up in their own excitement to notice the uncertainty painted all over the detective’s figure- everything from their tense posture to the restless twitch to their hands.

“I thought you knew that already, since you’re the detective in this relationship?” The thief asks, tilting their head to the side to look at their adversary. The detective turns a very interesting shade of pink. 

“Relationship?” The detective sputters. Suddenly, their blank posture is filled with life. They tilt their head to the side in embarrassment. Their hands fiddle with their jacket and they sway on their feet. “What relationship?!”

“Ours,” the thief grins. They’re on a roll; there’s no sense in stopping now. “You know... This one.” They motion between the two of them. The detective looks as if they’re glitching. 

“Gods, stop,” the detective begs, burying their face in their hands. “Just go...  steal whatever you were going to steal. I’ll give you a free pass, just... get away from me.”

“If you say so,” the thief grins wickedly. They swivel around to look at the painting they’ve been eyeing the entire time. It takes them less than minute to run over and unhinge it from the wall. The museum’s alarms blare loudly. “See you next time.” The thief decides to throw in a wink for good measure. The detective’s agitated scream lives on in the thief’s memory for the rest of the day. 

©2023, @defectivehero All Rights Reserved. 

the thief is a total flirt lol. i kinda love it???

the unresolved romantic tension between me and writing defective/thief pairings.... haaaaah.... (that’s supposed to be a sigh)

guys, these bots are getting to be too much. they’re so ANNOYINGGGG... ik Tumblr is working hard to get rid of them, but... I'm about to take matters into my own hands and murder them all.

also fun fact! i am currently sick. literally threw up this morning, which was not fun at all... sigh. pity me, please. [/j.]

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[minivantiny]

Growing Tomatoes "The Muggle Way"

Summary:

Inspired by Yunho's wish to taste a freshly grown tomato, Mingi embarks on a gardening adventure.

Professor Flock's Muggle Studies classroom has a cozy and welcoming atmosphere. The desks and chairs are arranged in a semi-circle, creating a space that encourages lively discussions. The walls are decorated with colourful posters depicting various Muggle inventions, which contrasts with the magical tapestries typically found in Hogwarts classrooms. The shelves are lined with an assortment of quirky Muggle gadgets, including typewriters and rubber ducks, adding to the room's unique charm.

As Professor Flock posed his intriguing question, the classroom seemed to come alive with a mixture of curiosity and disinterest. Some students slumped in their chairs, fighting off drowsiness, while others feverishly scribbled notes or exchanged amused glances. The Hufflepuff student at the back, known for his outspoken nature, couldn't resist throwing in a cheeky question:

"Can't we just Accio food from some Muggle shop?"

Professor Flock answered with a grin, "And you think you wouldn't get tired of doing that every day?" The Hufflepuff, acknowledging the wisdom in the professor's words, nodded in amused agreement.

"Well, actually," Professor Flock continued, his animated gestures capturing the class's attention, "some local grocers buy food from the Muggle world and sell it to other wizards. That way, only a small number of wizards would have intimate knowledge of the Muggle world, while the rest would buy it with wizard money from magical stores."

The information hung in the air, prompting a mixture of contemplative nods and raised eyebrows. Amidst the sea of students, Yunho sat in a desk, absorbing every word with genuine interest. The intimate setting of the class, with only 12 seats, allowed for a more personal connection between the professor and the students.

As Professor Flock continued his lecture, he encouraged discussions between students. Students began to share stories about encounters with Muggle artifacts, debating the usefulness of certain inventions. Laughter echoed through the room as one student recalled a particularly baffling experience with a Muggle "bicycle."

The classroom, despite its modest size, became a vibrant space where the boundaries between magical and Muggle worlds blurred. Professor Flock's engaging teaching style and the students' varied reactions created an atmosphere of learning and excitement, proving that even the smallest classrooms could hold the magic of discovery.

Yunho lingered after class, eager to delve deeper into the details of growing non-magical plants with Professor Flock. With a smile, he approached the knowledgeable wizard.

"Professor Flock, I was wondering if you could tell me more about growing Muggle plants like tomatoes and onions without using magic," Yunho inquired, his curiosity evident.

Professor Flock, delighted by Yunho's enthusiasm, gestured for him to join him at his desk. "Ah, the classic Muggle way! It's a fascinating process, my dear Yunho. Let me give you a brief overview."

Yunho leaned in, absorbing every word as Professor Flock began to explain. "Firstly, you'll need the right soil. Muggles often use a mixture of sand and loam for their gardens. It provides good drainage and aeration for the plants. Now, for tomatoes and onions, they thrive in slightly acidic soil, so keep that in mind."

Yunho nodded, his mind absorbing the details. "And what about planting the seeds?"

"Ah, excellent question! Muggles typically start by planting seeds indoors in pots, especially in colder climates. This gives the plants a head start before transplanting them outdoors. Make sure to follow the guidelines on the seed packets for the proper depth and spacing."

Yunho, scribbling notes on a spare piece of parchment, continued to inquire. "And watering? How do Muggles manage that without magic?"

Professor Flock chuckled, appreciating Yunho's eagerness. "Muggles water their plants manually, usually with a watering can. They gauge the moisture levels by feeling the soil; if it's dry an inch below the surface, it's time to water. Remember, it's a bit of trial and error, but you'll get the hang of it."

As their conversation continued, Professor Flock shared more insights on the complexity of Muggle gardening, from dealing with pests to the benefits of companion planting. Yunho absorbed the information like a sponge, grateful for the chance to expand his magical knowledge into the realm of the mundane, yet fascinating, Muggle practices.

Yunho couldn't contain the excitement bubbling within him as he practically skipped down the Hogwarts halls, eager to share his newfound knowledge with Mingi.

Finding Mingi at the Hufflepuff dinner table, his plate already half-empty, Yunho approached with a grin, unable to contain his enthusiasm. "Mingi, you won't believe what I learned in Muggle Studies today!" Yunho exclaimed, excitement glimmering in his eyes.

Mingi looked up from his meal, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Yunho's excitement. "What is it, Yunho? Something interesting?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Seating himself next to Mingi, Yunho dove into a descriptive recap of Professor Flock's class. He vividly described the quirky Muggle gadgets and the insights into how wizards obtained non-magical products. Mingi listened attentively, occasionally nodding or chuckling at Yunho's enthusiasm about such simple things.

As Yunho reached the topic of growing Muggle plants, he couldn't help but let slip his personal desire. "You know Mingi, I'd love to taste a freshly grown tomato someday, like the ones Muggles grow in their gardens, the proper 'Muggle Way'."

Mingi, ever attentive to Yunho's interests, leaned in with genuine interest. "The proper 'Muggle Way', you say?"

Yunho's eyes sparkled with excitement as he grinned. "I can't help but wonder how different they might taste compared to the magical ones we're used to."

As the conversation flowed, Mingi secretly hatched a plan to fulfill Yunho's wish. His small gardening haven behind the Beasts classroom would be the perfect spot to grow tomatoes without arousing suspicion. The mischievous gleam in Mingi's eyes went unnoticed as Yunho continued sharing his enthusiasm for Muggle studies.

Intrigued by Yunho's passion, Mingi made a mental note to surprise him with a taste of freshly grown tomatoes, grown with care and dedication, a secret gift from one Hufflepuff to another.

So he got to work.

The very same day.

Mingi, armed with a bag of seeds from "The Magic Neep" in Hogsmeade, embarked on his ambitious tomato-growing venture behind the Beasts classroom. The plot was set, the seeds were planted, and the pots were filled, but little did Mingi know, his gardening journey was about to take an unexprected turn.

Unbeknownst to him, Mingi had chosen clay soil, believing it to be a magical boon for his tomatoes. The pots were generously filled with magical fertilizer, expecting it to work wonders. As the days passed, Mingi's tomatoes weren't thriving; they were practically begging for mercy.

In the midst of his gardening disaster, Mingi scratched his head, wondering why his plants seemed more interested in protesting against their magical confinement than growing into lush tomatoes. It was then that he stumbled upon a gardening guide tucked away in the corner of the greenhouse, its title reading, "Gardening for Muggles: The Unseen Magic of Soil."

Wide-eyed, Mingi realized his mistake. He needed loam or a mixture of sand and loam, not the clay soil and magical fertilizer concoction he had been using. With a sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that gardening, even 'The Muggle Way', required a bit more attention to detail than he had initially thought.

Weeks later, as the first raindrops fell from the darkened sky, Yunho hurriedly exited the Beasts classroom, his footsteps echoing through the deserted courtyard. The heavy rain quickly escalated, prompting him to dash towards the castle to seek shelter from the downpour.

In his haste, Yunho caught a glimpse of a determined figure behind the Beasts classroom. Through the misty rain, he spotted Mingi, wearing a vibrant yellow raincoat and matching rubber boots, battling the unexpcted weather to tend to his struggling tomatoes.

Yunho's footsteps slowed as he observed Mingi's dedication. Dirtied with mud, hair sticking to his forehead, Mingi reflected loyalty to his words. He saw Mingi frantically attempting to move a gardening pot under a hastily constructed wooden shelter, struggling without a hint of magic.

A small blush crept onto Yunho's face as he realized Mingi was enduring this for him, inspired by Yunho's simple desire to taste a freshly grown tomato. Mesmerized by Mingi's unwavering commitment, Yunho decided to respect his friend's privacy and retreated, leaving Mingi to wrestle with the unpredictable forces of nature.

Three months had flown by since that day. On a lazy Saturday morning, Yunho stirred in his dormitory bed, basking in the luxury of a day free from classes.

Deciding to savor the rare opportunity to sleep in, Yunho stretched and turned his head towards Mingi's bed, only to find it suspiciously empty. The Hufflepuff dormitory room, usually filled with the soft snores of its occupants, felt unusually quiet. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Yunho sat up and scanned the room, wondering where his roommate had vanished to so early on a weekend morning.

His eyes landed on a parchment paper neatly placed on his nightstand. Intrigued, Yunho picked it up and unfolded the note, revealing a message that stirred his curiosity. "Meet me behind the Beasts classroom, I have a surprise for you - S.M." Yunho's eyebrow raised in confusion. He had momentarily forgotten about the discreet encounter with Mingi and his gardening incident.

Yunho, now fully dressed and ready for the day, ventured out of his dormitory, the mystery note from Mingi still clutched in his hand. The Hogwarts corridors were a mosaic of magical portraits and enchanted tapestries, and Yunho's footsteps echoed through the ancient stone halls as he made his way toward the Beasts classroom.

As he strolled towards the Bell Tower Courtyard, the unexpected sight of Yeosang and Jongho sitting on a couch near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom caught Yunho's attention. Both engrossed in their Advanced Potions textbooks, their focused expressions hinted at the challenges of their studies.

However, it wasn't the textbooks that drew Yunho's gaze; it was the unusual intimacy between Yeosang and Jongho. Jongho occupied the left corner of the couch, while Yeosang sprawled across the remaining space, his head nestled comfortably in Jongho's lap. The scene seemed so oddly familiar yet foreign to Yunho, as if he had stumbled upon a private moment between the two students. Yunho was taken aback at the carefree ease with which Jongho and Yeosang embraced their closeness.

Uncertain whether this was a regular occurrence for the two friends, Yunho hesitated to intervene. Instead, he opted for a simple wave, receiving warm greetings in return. A small smile adorned Yunho's face as he continued down the stairs.

"Well, that was interesting," Yunho murmured to himself. With a gentle smile, he continued his way towards the Beasts classroom, eager to uncover the surprise Mingi had in store for him.

When Yunho arrived, there were no signs of Mingi. He curiously scanned the surroundings, the anticipation building with each passing moment. Just as a hint of uncertainty crossed his face, a familiar voice sliced through the air.

"Yunho! Over here!"

Yunho's eyes lit up at the sound, and he turned around to spot Mingi waving enthusiastically from a few meters away. A wide grin spread across Yunho's face as he made his way towards his best friend.

"Hey, Mingi!" Yunho asked, his curiosity bubbling over.

Mingi, with an air of excitement, motioned for Yunho to follow. Leading him to a spot behind the Beasts classroom, they reached a breathtaking sight. A massive tree stood proudly a few meters away, its branches reaching towards the sky, offering a comforting shade. The small river nearby added a soothing melody to the surroundings, creating an atmosphere of tranquillity.

As they approached the tree, the Hogwarts Castle came into view. Perched on its majestic hill, the castle stood as a testament to centuries of magic and history. The sun, casting a warm glow over the turrets and towers, painted the scene with an enchanting radiance.

Mingi gestured towards the impressive view, a proud smile on his face. "Surprise! I thought this would be the perfect place for what I had in mind."

Yunho's eyes widened in awe as he took in the breathtaking scenery. The sprawling Hogwarts grounds, the river gently winding its way, and the castle looming in the background created a memorable scene. It was a scene that resonated with the magic of the wizarding world, and Yunho couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected beauty that Mingi had unveiled.

Mingi's hand pointed towards the meticulously arranged picnic blanket on the ground, a colorful spread that hinted at the result of Mingi's secret gardening adventure. "The tomatoes grew so much faster than I thought they would, and I had no idea what to do with all of them," Mingi confessed bashfully, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and hesitation. "So I asked the castle house-elf staff if they could do something with them. I also helped! Given that they prepare our meals every day and that my request was probably additional work, I felt horrible watching them handle everything."

The blanket, adorned with an array of vibrant tomato dishes and salads, gleaming with the essence of Mingi's dedication. Yunho, initially struck speechless by the unexpected feast, finally managed to find his voice.

"You did all of this.. for me?" Yunho's words carried a hint of shock, his eyes reflecting both gratitude and amazement.

Mingi, with a humble grin, responded, "Well, don't get me wrong, despite the hard work, I actually enjoyed growing plants like this. You get a nice feeling of accomplishment."

As Mingi picked up a plate filled with freshly picked tomatoes, he extended it towards Yunho. "You said you wanted to try a fresh tomato, so.. here's your chance. I might've already eaten about half of this plate.. They're delicious!" Mingi's smile widened, showcasing his satisfaction with the final result.

Yunho, unable to resist the allure of the freshly picked tomatoes, accepted the plate gratefully. The first bite was indescribable, a burst of a tart and tangy flavor that surpassed all expectations. The tomatoes, nurtured with care and dedication, left a sweet after teaste in Yunho's mouth, almost as if he could taste the love Mingi has put into growing them.

The duo settled onto the comfortable picnic blanket, surrounded by an array of tasty-looking dishes, each infused with the magic of Mingi's efforts.

As they delved into their meal, Mingi regaled Yunho with tales of the misadventures that had peppered his gardening journey. Amidst the laughter and shared stories, Yunho couldn't help but find humor in Mingi's gardening mishaps. "How could you put them in clay soil? I told you Muggles use sandy loam!" Yunho teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

Mingi simply shrugged his shoulders with a grin, taking another spoonful of the delectable tomato salad. "Instructions unclear," he noted.

Yunho found himself captivated by the enchanting scenery surrounding them. The Hogwarts Castle, with its towering spires, stood proudly against the azure sky. The river nearby whispered tales of secrets shared only with those who sought its solace.

Amid the tranquil moment, a comfortable silence enveloped them, the special bond between Yunho and Mingi flourishing without the need for words. Yunho sighed, a contented smile playing on his lips as he gazed at Mingi, grateful for the genuine connection they shared.

After a few heartwarming seconds, Yunho finally broke the silence. "Thank you, Mingi."

Mingi turned his head towards Yunho, his eyes reflecting the warmth of their friendship, and he smiled sincerely. "You're welcome, Yunho," Mingi replied, the words carrying a depth that transcended the simple act of growing tomatoes. In that moment, gratitude and appreciation hung in the air, reinforcing the bond between the two of them.

Later, standing in front of Mingi's flourishing gardening haven. The tomato bushes stood proudly, their branches laden with plump, vibrant fruits that seemed to display the joy of their caretaker's dedication.

"What should we do with them? We can't eat all of this by ourselves!" Mingi exclaimed, his eyes scanning the multitude of tomatoes.

After a brief pause, Yunho's eyes gleamed with an idea. "What if we gather the tomatoes and offer them to the headmistress? She can ask the kitchen elves to include them on the menu for dinner today." Yunho's suggestion hung in the air, an opportunity to share the fruits of their unexpected harvest with the entire Hogwarts community.

Yunho and Mingi exchanged a knowing glance, their unspoken agreement sealing their decision.

Later at dinner, Headmistress Weasley took center stage, her poised and authoritative presence commanding the attention of the entire Great Hall. The hum of conversations gradually subsided as students turned their focus to the headmistress, a sense of anticipation filling the air.

"I would like to announce that tonight's dinner is indeed very special," Headmistress Weasley began, her words flowing with the effortless grace and eloquence that characterized her speech. The students, initially confused, now listened attentively. "One of our students has generously offered fresh ingredients for tonight's dishes, cultivated with dedication and care. I would like to express my sincere appreciation to Song Mingi, a fifth-year Hufflepuff, who has spent the last three months cultivating his own tomatoes. He selflessly contributed these homegrown treasures to our school's kitchen, expressing his desire to share the fruits of his labor with his fellow students."

A gentle smile graced Headmistress Weasley's lips as she continued, "In recognition of his outstanding efforts, I am pleased to award Song Mingi with 50 house points for his remarkable contribution to our Hogwarts community. Now, without further ado, let us all relish in this extraordinary feast. Bon appétit."

As she concluded her speech, the Great Hall erupted in a chorus of cheers and applause. The tables, adorned with a variety of dishes, showcased Mingi's tomatoes in all their glory – in vibrant tomato salads, rich marinara sauce paired with pasta, and even as delectable snacks in the form of cut-up tomatoes. The Hufflepuff table, especially, erupted in jubilation, celebrating Mingi's altruism.

Amidst the cheers and applause, Yunho couldn't help but gaze at his best friend with admiration, recognizing the purity of Mingi's heart reflected in this special moment.

[lemonhemlock]

I really think some Green fans need to get real and realize the show will never portray a clearly young girl (we don't know the character's age but the actress was 15 years old during S1 filming - it's just vile to pretend her character was making everything up) lying about getting raped and setting poor Aegon up. Also, he was never confused when Alicent confronted him about what he had specifically done, in fact, the dialogue between them heavily implies this was not the first time this happened. He also never denied the accusation which I think he would've if the "it was a set-up" scenario was true. Anyway I doubt Dyana will knowingly be involved in the B&C affair either like some people from the other side keep hoping for. If she's going to provide information about the hour Helaena and her children are visiting Alicent or anything of the sort then it will likely be the some manipulation from Mysaria's part. I highly doubt Misaryia is going to say to Dyana "I know he wronged you and you want justice. How about we kill his heir?" and she'll be like "yeah let's do that". Her being a part of B&C is the second worst arc she could possibly have after the fake rape plot some are suggesting (or just as bad) because in no way one can ever claim that an innocent child getting beheaded in front of his mother would be an epic revenge story the audience will be cheering. I don't believe the writers will choose either of these two options.

yeah, the reason aegon turns the waterworks on and looks confused is because mummy hit him, not because mummy unjustly accused him. i realise some fans are hoping against hope and there's nothing wrong with daydreaming about a perfect pro-green world (i wish LOL), but, unfortunately, there's no "fixing" the dyanna situation. portraying young girls as manipulative liars when it comes to rape is just way more damaging than portraying a rapist prince on screen. we need to believe women and normalize that in our media, not to give more ammunition to dismissive narratives.

if the writers, say, had a change of heart and realised the error of their ways (i know, bear with me) or regretted the lost opportunity they had with aegon or whatever else. AT MOST, they could maybe retcon the child fighting pits thing bc aegon is never actually shown in there, so, if they REALLY wanted, they could never mention it again and pretend it didn't happen. but dyanna already got a pretty emotional scene where she was scared out of her mind and pleading with alicent + aegon basically admitted his guilt in the very next scene, so there's not much to do about that, other than reshoot the episode or re-edit it to remove that sideplot, which is obviously never going to happen ever. also, say what you will, but it was a pretty big deal that alicent believed her, no questions asked, and provided her with contraception and financial compensation, instead of punishing her and going "nuh-uh, not MY son"

like, "house of the dragon fake rape plot angers SA survivors and women's rights organizations" is not a good headline to have unless their aim is to turn it into The Idol with dragons

the good news, though, is that aegon is not real, so, as beings who exist in three dimensional spaces & outside screen and paper, we can acknowledge it as a controversial writing choice, accept it as an L and just move on with our lives. you don't have to agree with it & there is ample room to critique it, but it's also time to (gently) advance with the five stages of grief. the damage is already done, i'm afraid, we just have to take it on the chin and carry on.

i also agree that dyanna actively participating in b&c would be a mistake and not smth aspirational for her character (i have already breached this topic in her tag for curious cats). but i'm not convinced i trust the writers 100% NOT to go down this path bc they have sure shown that they can have a very simplistic understanding of female badassery and emancipation sometimes, re: how rhaenys killing civilians doesn't matter. all the more frustrating, because, had they moved the set around a little, she could have flown out dramatically on meleys without killing anyone, while maintaining all the benefits of the scene. but it seems they're not immune to shock just for the sake of shock.

anyway, as with all speculation, i am simply just talking out of my arse right now and cannot judge any aspect of S2 without seeing it first. episodes can be filmed with more than one version for various plots and who knows what they'll choose in the end. dyanna's actress may be filming scenes, but do we have any assurance those scenes will even make it in the show? there's no certainty they won't end up cutting them and editing the episode around her. so she can act out the most Kill Bill variant of her character and by the time next year rolls around it's on the cutting room floor

[kissmethroughthebone]

A good win for me!

Had an impromptu date with a white nerd I met at a comedy club. A tech baller who was happy to talk to the fly young honey sitting alone (me) and next thing you know, we had a nice date at a high end restaurant.

A lot of green flags; at first. Passing me his seared halibut when I mentioned liking his more, gave me room to talk. Bare minimum but still signs of a solid person.

Until on the ride back to my general area, he put his hand on my upper thigh.

I smiled and moved it nicely, (I am not too mad at men who try, although I should be,) and we drove the rest of the way relatively quiet; I still gave him a hug and said we should talk again soon!

A very clear sign of interest, right?

Let's just say a week later, I called him (noticed he didn't text much after that night, and was bored and figured I could use some mid-week plans,) and we were talking! And it was well, untilllllll....

He said that he didn't contact me again on purpose. That I "didn't give him any green flags" (red flag) and how I "rejected him" (red flag) by "moving his hand, which showed I wasn't interested" (like five red flags in that sentence alone) and how he was gonna have me "show how interested I truly was, and wait for me to contact HIM".

All of it screamed horny, insecure, idiotic, slow, pathetic, cowardly, and...... lame.

Like.... so instead of being self-aware that you went too far on a first meeting, being apologetic and shooting a quick text or a call to even check interest levels with me, and offering to make plans again soon, you.....

Got very insecure about your sexual harassment, immediately rewrote history as if I am some villainous woman who absolutely embarrassed you by not being into nonconsensual touching and showed a lack of interest, (there was a very much present interest, just not a sexual one, which he devalued and wrote off as disinterest,) and then wanted me to.... work for your attention again, as if I had something to prove to you?

Not to mention another element where he also hid that he was in my city during this phone call, then tried to pretend he wasn't hiding anything.

He got aggressive real fast. Not like he was gonna off me, more of an overly defensive way, as if I was some heated debate partner and not a curious woman who was simply raising an eyebrow at his..... behavior.

What an odd way to show interest to a woman; scouring around her city, (hell, more like being 4 blocks away from me despite living 6 cities away,) while avoiding messaging her on purpose over your own fear and insecurities of not getting a text back if he tried....

Geez, and *that* is what he calls a green flag?

Easiest time I've ever had sending someone a message cancelling plans. I practiced not being hostile, and just having an air of "what if".

Like "I found what you did above to be very cowardly, perverted and unimpressive, which was very different from the man I met, who I found to be quite handsome, polite, and a man that takes initiative. I wish you were the person I thought you were, but that is alright. Thank you, and have a wonderful evening regardless."

I like to think that might get in his head more than "fuck you, big gummed ass nigga, also I zoned out when you ranted about Space Troopers" and "go get some hobbies" ever would.

A milestone for me! I tend to write off men and give them chances. Either since I think "This red flag can't hurt me as long as I collect and acknowledge it, right?", or "I can stick around and he can grow as a person."

Or a dastardly "I can stick around and keep milking this dude" (and even if I had succeeded, I'd sacrifice my mental health by not opening this throat chakra, and setting a tangent that disrespect can be afforded through nice dinners and gifts.... and he is not wealthy enough for that. Ideally, no one ever should be. Even in those dynamics, somehow I always fell for one aspect of them and could not cope with the other, and then it was hard to leave, either due to safety and security reliant on them, or greed, or.... affection.)

Anywho, I deserve a treat to celebrate. God bless!