#intimations that Mary has powers too

[cosmicgendershifter]

I'm having a fascinating time rewatching Our Flag Means Death with the knowledge that Ed sees Izzy as a "safe" mentor/family figure ("safe" because Izzy is Ed's subordinate aboard the ship, which creates a more balanced power dynamic) upon whom Ed projects his many unresolved daddy issues. That stated interpretation from David Jenkins does work, even in season one!

Most of the fandom conceptualized season one Izzy as a power-hungry subordinate to Ed and a "co-parent" to the crew (paralleled with the Stede/Mary marriage) who has an understated masochist lust for the Blackbeard legend. All of that is true too, because Ed and Izzy's relationship is incredibly complex and fucked-up. I know from personal experience that this kind of layered toxic relationship is completely possible, though it might seem contradictory on the surface.

In season one, Ed considering Izzy as a mentor/family explains more why Ed let his first mate be so insulting to and controlling of him and still kept wanting Izzy to stay beside him. It adds more meaning to how Ed veers super hard into the violent Blackbeard role after feeling cornered and threatened by Izzy at the end of the season. (This also has further weight for those of us with family members who have disapproved quite loudly of our queer relationships.)

There is a strong parallel that I noticed previously between young Ed's reaction to his father abusing his mother and season one Ed's reaction to Izzy dueling Stede. Stede is linked to Ed's mother through the red silk and through the fact that Stede and Ed's mother--and Lucius--are the only people we see treating Ed with compassion/softness in season one. It thus makes sense for Izzy to be mirroring Ed's father.

Then there's another parallel in how Ed responded to Izzy mentioning Stede in a mocking way ("pining for his boyfriend") by choking Izzy, like how Ed had once responded to his father threatening his mother by strangling his father. In this moment, Izzy touched Ed's face with an intimate kind of familiarity and said, "There he is." Ed clearly found this unnerving, which some people read as sexually harassment, but it makes just as much sense for it to be his daddy issues getting triggered.

(GIF Sources: captain-flint and divineandmajesticinone)

I think part of why this dynamic was unclear in season one is because the writers wanted us to see that, even though Izzy is a mentor figure who taught Ed certain skills, Ed is a grown man who is fully competent on his own. He had likely started building the Blackbeard legend by the time Izzy met him, he has a clever mind that's constantly coming up with new plans, and when Izzy himself was left as captain, Izzy proved to not have the necessary charisma and compassion to lead the crew. Ed is the star power; Izzy is the manager, so to speak.

However, Izzy overestimates his importance and often talks about himself like he's a martyr to the Blackbeard legend, working so hard to keep both Ed and the crew in line. He claims that he's been "clean[ing] up [Ed's] messes... my whole life," which feels like a very parental complaint to me.

Ed fuels this martyr complex some in season two by physically harming Izzy, but notably, Ed doesn't threaten this kind of harm to the rest of the crew (though he isn't very careful with them either) until he's in the suicidal spiral of driving the ship into a storm. Before that, Ed threatens Izzy specifically, both because Izzy threatened him and Stede in season one and because Ed's trying, in his own fucked-up way, to prove to Izzy that he's following Izzy's guidance and "being Blackbeard." The toe-cutting also has some metaphorical weight: Izzy demanded that Ed "cut off" the gentler pieces of himself to be Blackbeard, so Ed starts cutting off literal pieces of Izzy in return. When it becomes clear that this isn't satisfying Izzy either, that's when Ed really goes off the deep end. ("I loved you the best I could," but I never could be enough to fit your expectations.)

(GIF Source: livelovecaliforniadreams)

Meanwhile, we see Izzy starting to question things specifically in response to Ed saying that Izzy could be replaced as first mate. Izzy thought his place, as a mentor/family and self-professed "martyr", was more secure than that, and it challenges his whole identity.

Throughout season two, the mentor/family dynamic is further emphasized via the parallel between Izzy/Ed/Stede and Auntie/Zheng Yi Sao/Oluwande. Others have discussed this more, but there's so much meaning in the similar ways these characters carry themselves, in the tension of Auntie disapproving of Zheng Yi Sao's feelings for "soft" Oluwande, and in the way Oluwande finally teaches Auntie to soften herself some for Zheng Yi Sao.

(GIF Source: bizarrelittlemew)

Additionally, in episode five of season two, we see Stede turning to Izzy for mentorship, proclaiming that Ed himself had recommended Izzy as someone who "made him into the captain he is today." People have questioned that as being a false manipulation from Stede, but I think there's a good chance that it was true! (Ed probably said this to Stede sometime during season one, when the two of them got to know each other so well.) "Taught him everything he knows" is definitely a flattering exaggeration, but hey.

(GIF Source: ofmdaily)

Throughout this and other episodes, we see Izzy continuing to take on a mentor-like role with Stede and the crew (and eventually Ed) as he tries to recenter himself after the darkness of the first three episodes. It's clear that Izzy is most comfortable playing the gruff and politically incorrect old fighter who offers guidance, but now he's letting himself branch out more and connect to the crew in new gentler ways. He even metaphorically "gives his blessing" to Ed and Stede's first time having sex by providing the musical accompaniment, which is the perfect amount of weird for this show, haha.

(GIF Source: izzyfag)

Izzy's transformative arc in season two also involves a steady pattern of reversals, corrected new versions of his treatment of Ed in season one, as Izzy start coming to terms with the harm he did to Ed. Other people have discussed this in more detail, but I think the pace of this change is realistic to what you would see in such a situation. Ed's responses to this, too, are consistent with him seeing Izzy as a mentor/family.

(GIF Source: edwards-teach)

I should further note that Izzy and Benjamin Hornigold (another abusive father figure from Ed's past) are two characters mirrored by the fact that they call Ed "Eddie" in season two. I can imagine that being the nickname Ed used when he was younger, before growing out of it. Izzy seems to start feeling the echo of that memory of younger Ed when Ed comes to him scared, asking for Izzy to "fix [his] mess" by shooting Ed like Ed "dreamed" about.

(GIF Source: blairpfaff)

Right before Izzy's death, there's a scene where Ed is triggered super hard in his daddy issues by the fisherman "Pop-Pop." I think the writers wanted to remind us of the parental trauma Ed has been through before giving us some catharsis through Izzy's deathbed confession and apology. In that moment, Izzy takes full accountability for what he did, while Ed cries and says, "You're my only family." Izzy redirects him in a final bit of mentorly guidance, telling Ed that the crew is there to be his family if Ed will let himself be loved, truly, in the way Ed has often rejected and distanced himself from being loved.

(GIF Source: izzyfag)

Now, I do think Izzy's death was the right choice for this show. I like that DJenkins went with the classic mentor death trope, and he did a similar thing with Buttons, the other old-timer first mate! I agree likewise with those who have discussed Izzy's loss as being a necessary step for the narrative to move forward both from Ed's darker self/parental trauma and from the older age of piracy that Izzy represents. Izzy was always meant to be a dark reflection of and a narrative support/conflict for Ed, and this is the natural culmination of that. His complicated legacy will continue to be something Ed has to reckon with, however, although Ed is trying to compartmentalize that right now.

I very much hope to see, in season three (🤞🏻), how Ed continues to process his past, especially now that he's trying for a domestic life that will likely lead into marriage. Marriage, from what I've seen, often acts as a staging ground for whatever parental trauma you had growing up, because you look to your parental figures as an example of how to do "adult" things. This is going to be a huge conflict for both Ed and Stede, who has his own personal negative marriage experience. I suspect Izzy will continue to represent this problem in some form or another.

(GIF Sources: kiwistede and yenvengerberg)

[zekescherries]

﹒ UNTIL DUE! ﹔ ft ＃ levi ackerman ﹐ 🍒 ﹒　　 ׅ 　

CONSPECTUS﹕levi can't love you, you're already in a relationship. an unhappy one at that.

PAIRING﹕levi ackerman × married!reader & erwin smith × reader ﹒ modern au

CHAPTER(S)﹕just this, it's a oneshot!

CONTENT WARNING﹕cheating + complicated & unhappy relationships + semi-fluff, mostly angst + soft!levi + arranged marriage + slight erwin × marie

AUTHOR'S NOTE﹕this used to be something else but I turned it around to make this, short and sweet!!

the moon's passes through the curtains, painting the old floor with a bright glow. you and levi lay together, enjoying each other's company; but especially the warmth between the two of you.

"can we stay like this a little longer?" you are obviously tired, your voice vibrates through the pillow. the soft material providing you with an extra cushion.

"what did you say?" levi almost catches himself smiling again.

soon enough you turn to face the ackerman, eyes barely open. "i asked if we could stay like this." your stare softens a fraction. those words. a simple question but such a powerful and deep seeded meaning behind you two.

levi has never felt like this before, not with anyone at least. he observed the world around him and looked in awe at happy couples.

at you and erwin, jealousy flooded him. he knew it was too late, that he couldn't have you, until now.

". . .of course,"

"we'll have to get up soon though." levi isn't even sure if you can hear him with how low his voice is.

yet, you groan as a response, making it clear that you both heard and agreed.

"ugh."

you bury your head into levi's chest, the bare skin warm and inviting, he even snakes an arm around your waist. the moment is intimate, and for a few minutes. . .you both just lay there entangled up in the sleek sheets while in each other's comforting arms.

only when the silence grows does levi hear the front door open.

erwin must be home.

"is he back?" you asks with a frown, the tone in your voice is hard to pinpoint. levi just nods and despite the darkness, levi can see the sadness that dawns on your face.

"yeah, i think so. . ."

"should i go?" levi asks.

you nods, sitting up and averting your gaze. you can't look levi in the eyes knowing that you're ashamed.

of yourself, of your loveless marriage, of something that you can't seem to shake. it's ingrained in you and god, do you love levi but you're bound to erwin by law. forced into this marriage by your father.

"okay."

levi jumps out of his skin, rushing to put together his clothes and run out the back door. wondering if he'll stay your secret forever, surprised that an exhausted erwin doesn't see him fly past.

or maybe he did, but didn't care enough to say anything.

"you home?!" he calls out to his you, setting his suitcase down for a second to light a candle.

"i'm right here, no need to yell. . ."

erwin's heart clenches when he sees you, looking miserable. you're his partner yet you feel nothing romantic towards him and neither does he feel anything romantic towards you.

if anything, you're more like roommates who share a last name.

". . .why are we even married?" erwin blurts out.

"what. . .?"

it's silent, erwin's expression says it all. he goes through life so emotionless, so sad, so afraid of his true feelings.

he's so miserable, he never wanted any of this. he remembers gazing at the night's stars with marie, wishing one day to marry her. just like how you prayed each night to marry levi.

but it wasn't going to happen.

© zekescherries , 🍒

[house-of-slayterr]

A little obvious, but Villains I think would be into Knife/Sharps Play:

Let’s start this list of properly…

Mary:

Mary loves surgical play, she’s the doctor and you’re her helpless little patient. Sometimes she uses laughing gas before you start, help you get the feeling that your life is truly in her hands. But she won’t hurt you too bad, she would never damage her perfect little doll. Just be prepared to have her name carved into the body part of your choosing.

Amanda Young:

Amanda is another obvious choice. She loves to remind you of the power she holds over you. Remind you of who’s in charge. Her favourite thing to do is put you in escapable traps and give you little quizzes on your relationship as part of your test. Just simple flesh wounds are you payment if you ever get the answers wrong. She likes to save the deeper cuts for face to face time. She loves the feeling of you skin, under her blade, between her teeth. Anyway she can mark you, she’ll have the world knowing who you belong to.

Herbert West:

Now Dr West, he hardly has time for sex. Most of his focus is on his experiments. But the way you can lure him out of that dingy basement is by becoming his latest experiment. He loves to dissect you, metaphorically and literally specking. He’d probably rip open your chest to see your heart if it didn’t mean loosing you. And reanimation was plan B for you, he preferred you still fully loving. But he loves to stick you with needles, sometimes to draw blood he saves in his little shrine to you, or to give you something that will help you more into the mood. All with your consent of course, but he loves it when you’re heads in the clouds. He loves to quiz you during it, and every answer you get wrong is another delicately carved Mark on your skin.

Anton Chigurh:

Anton loves to watch you squirm. He thinks the sounds you make are delightful when you whimper away from the sharp blade. He’ll use diffent techniques. They do leave permanent marks, but nothing too difficult to hide. He likes to see how far you’ll let him go before he draws back. He loves the psychological aspect almost a bit more. Explaining to you what his weapons have done to other people, yet giving the reasons why he’d never do that to you. He finds explaining his work to be intimate, showing you a side of him only ghosts have ever seen.

Billy & Stu:

These two come as a package deal, and they love when you play helpless victim. Billy is more directly into the knife aspect, he loves tracing shapes on your skin, might even let you do it back to him if he’s in a particularly good mood. But Stu is into the blood. Nothing could stop his horny brain from thinking about you and Billy covered in blood, doesn’t care if it’s your own or someone else’s. He likes to play with it, and he’ll get upset if you try to clean yourself off too soon. He has hundreds of Polaroids of you and Billy.

Otis Driftwood:

Admittedly, Otis thinks you’re a god damn work of art. And any good artist wants to leave their mark on their most prized piece. His initials are carved on both your thighs, through less than delicate work, because he wants any man who dare try to get that far with you, know exactly who you belong to. And know that he will find them. The only place he won’t use his knife is on your pretty face. He likes delicate and soft the skin is there and doesn’t want to shatter the effect of your dolll like beauty.

Baby Firefly:

Baby is just as depraved as Otis. Her version of foreplay is letting you play helpless victim. She loves to chase you, scare you, make you bleed rubies just for her. She loves holding it against your neck while she whispers sweet nothings in your ear. She loves the smell of the adrenaline coming off your skin when she has you willing and complaint for her. She probably gives the best aftercare as well. Taking her time to clean and patch you up so she gets to play nurse.

Patrick Bateman:

This main only gets off if someone else’s pain is involved. You’re barely any safer with him than anyone else would be. The one thing keeping your pretty little heart beating, in his eyes, is that he owns you. And Patrick takes care of his property. You’re part of his routine, coming home after a long day, just to leave a new mark on you while he fucks you into oblivion. He loves to trace and lick at your scars, and remind you that he lacks those imperfections he’s given you. He’s in control and he’ll be sure you and everyone else knows that.

An: that’s all I got for now but I have been feeling a little mentally better about trying to write again. It’s not nearly as scary as it has been for months. Things are slowly getting better.

Tag: @oceansrose2002 @kados-of-chaos @mothmans-kingdom @myers-meadow

[izvmimi]

cw: fem!reader. halloween theme! reader doesn’t like a gold rush.

Recoiling from Satoru’s touch is not the best move if you mean to wean off your attachment to him, and does the opposite of what is intended. This, however, you don't realize immediately. You're too busy lost in your own thoughts, as though suddenly alone in the dark, mist-filled nightclub scene, and somehow you've convinced yourself that you can just as easily slip away in a moment's notice.

Satoru looks preoccupied from your vantage point. The event is a private affair and thus intimate despite the loud music and hordes of people, and Satoru works the room effortlessly anyway, all smiles and charm despite his shrouded light blue eyes. Your costumes match - you, Catwoman, in a sleek dark suit that shows off your best assets, and him, Batman, cliched yet somehow working for him - and still somehow you feel disjointed. Like a creaky hinge, there's a loud friction that sex and sweet affection has not been able to grease quiet as well recently, and you're not sure why. Perhaps it's the natural ebb and flow in the nature of your relationship, genuine moodiness, or perhaps it's the fact that he's too adept at garnering the looks of men and women in scary, sexy and/or stupid costumes, a glow around him like the miracle he's always been.

The words to describe Gojo Satoru are not few and are often positive - handsome, powerful, independent, strong-willed... handsome. All the qualities of a prince, enough so that it is easy to forget that you're a princess in your own right when you spend so much time looking at him from the same vantage point as charmed onlookers.

But you are not at that same vantage point.

Gojo does not turn to look at you immediately, letting your fingers slip through his, his better judgement outweighing his immediate wishes to pull you closer. You erroneously take this as him being too busy for you, and let yourself back away to numb your insecurities with another drink. There are too many eyes watching him, watching you always. Your friends quickly flank you, one of them scrunching her nose.

"Do you mean to let people swarm him like that? He looks like he's dripped in honey and the ants have taken note."

Your other friend stifles a laugh but you sigh.

"He'll probably find his wife in the crowd," you joke. Your friend on the right bumps you in the hip and you whisper a dramatic 'Ow'.

"His wife is standing here moping and hurting them both."

You roll your eyes and turn to lean on the bar table, but they turn to, leaning into you.

"Maybe it's foreplay," one whispers to the other, across from you, pretending that they aren't discussing you in front of you.

"Do you think he goes more rounds the madder she gets?"

"Enough," you hiss.

"Is that what you tell him after your third nut or are you able to talk by then?"

You pretend that your cheeks aren't warming, that your latex-covered thighs don't press together slightly as you tell them to stop being disgusting. One of your friend grins as she looks behind you, then says, "Sure."

"Hi, Satoru!" they both wave in unison.

Satoru is behind you now, stalking like the ghost he is, wisps of white poking outside of his mask. He grins.

"Can I take my favorite girl from you for a moment?"

"What if we say no?" one jokes. Satoru chuckles.

"I only asked to be polite."

She raises her eyebrows in feigned offense but Satoru has already swept you up in his arms, letting his forehead press against yours.

"Spiderman needs his Mary Jane," he whispers and it catches you so off guard that you find yourself giggling.

"Wrong superhero."

Satoru kisses your lips, then shrugs, a movement that shifts you slightly. "I know, but Batman and Catwoman don't have the same kind of canonical gravitas, you know?"

He has a point.

He turns with you in his arms, and you can see the eyes of the people that would rather be in your place look then look away, knowing that the few you call friends but have reservations in their hearts already have this image burned in their minds. You're chosen when it should be them. Your heart pounds.

"Satoru, put me down."

"And let you walk away from me again? Fat chance," he whispers.

He returns to the center of the room and while the girls swarm him less, there's just as much conversation to be had with your friends. Nanami has learned to not even notice Gojo's PDA at this point, talking to you as though you were standing on your own feet despite your bashfulness. You catch an eyeroll or two from a few guests, but your friends grin widely and cheer you on.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders.

This isn't exactly the worst place to be, is it?

He can sense you relax and kisses you again. The raving music and lights, and the warmth of his body against yours soon overpowers racing thoughts.

[queerprayers]

Officially, in the western church, today isn't the Annunciation. This is Holy Monday, and the Annunciation is moved to avoid coinciding with Holy Week. I think if it were during the Triduum I would appreciate this, making space to hold both days separately. But it's Monday, and they can't stop me from thinking about Mary during Holy Week. March 25 is a traditional date of both Jesus's death and conception, as well as the Creation—a spring equinox of redemption. Holding space for all these things has always been appropriate. Birth and death coexist; Jesus's beginnings were the beginnings of his mortality. The angel announces the future, and whoever listens must live through all of it.

What did it mean for Mary to say yes to this? We laugh at the "Mary did you know?" lyrics, because we know she knew. But she also didn't have to know the details of God's plan to say yes to what every parent says yes to—witnessing. Acknowledging the bringing into the world of a frail being, perhaps giving your body to make this happen, praying that you will die before they do but knowing that is not promised. And every parent living under a violent state knows what it is to hope it's not your kid that's next (whether you're a Black parent teaching your child how to talk to cops, or a Palestinian parent hiding in rubble, or a Jewish parent under Roman occupation who's seen the crosses outside the city walls).

Do you think, at the foot of the cross, Mary thought of her response, "Let it be unto me according to your word"? After bearing that Word inside her, teaching him how to walk, waiting for God to change his mind, to reveal a ram caught in a thicket so her son wouldn't have to die after all, do you think she remembered her teenage self, magnifying the Lord? "The Almighty has done great things for me"—and to me. Great as in too big to look at all at once, bloodstained things. The power of the Most High is overshadowing her—the shadow of the cross—his flesh broken, and someone (including her perhaps) will take him down and wash him for burial.

What does it mean to hold space for that day when an angel tore into her life, breaking it open for God—during Holy Week? If we desire a feast, we should wait until Easter, I agree. But today I honor a lady of sorrows—I desire an acknowledgement of the violence of agreeing to live and love and create when it will be torn away. The story never ends there, but we must live through this week (and whatever weeks of our lives hold these things) saying yes, witnessing. Judas quit before the miracle happened—he couldn't witness death so he didn't witness the life (on this earth). Mary kept saying yes, even at the end.

We can never know everything we are saying yes to when we surrender to God. She knew in one sense, yes, but no one knows what it's like to lose a son until it happens. And no one but her knows what it's like to be the Mother of God. We already know what God wants us to do, but we don't know until it happens how much it hurts—and what the dawn will bring. What swords will pierce us, what promises will be kept.

When we say the Magnificat, we usually add a Gloria at the end—Mary did not have those words (the Trinity would not be formulated for another couple hundred years), but we have them. When we sing her song, we hold space for the ways we see God exist, and she saw those ways intimately. She held the Son and was surrounded by the Spirit, and now the Father holds her. As we live through Holy Week every year, every year she says yes. God's love continues unfolding. As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.

Your assigned reading for today (should you choose to accept it) is @tomatobird-blog 's comic "Thirty Years." A blessed Holy Monday (and Annunciation) to you all.

[girltigerclaw]

breaking into ur house rn

top ten characters and bottom ten. reasons are optional

I just finished this chart thing i think i actually stole from your blog a few months ago <3 Slightly edited to my own prefs.

If anyone wants the template check the reblogs, and feel free to add you own. I'd love to see. I'm just rambling under here:

Leafpool: She is more special and sacred than the virgin mary. She has everything. Daughter of the first protagonist, ex boyfriend for me to hate, TONS of wlw situationships<3, a lifetime of tragedy, and some of the most gorgeous canon art to exist.

Crookedstar: Crookedstar is a trans woman to me. Her life is genuinely just so tragic and fucked, I love it. The erins asked: “How much truama, death and misfortune can you fit into a single cat?” and then they wrote Crookedstar’s promise.

Tawnypelt: GIRLS WHO HATE THEIR FATHERS. The erins dont love her like I do.

Tallstar: I love old men… I fucking love seeing older characters and how much they’ve changed from their younger selves. Tallstar is considered one of, if not the most peaceful leader in the clans. But also when he was like 19 he went on a quest to fucking murder a guy :3

Cloudstar: I rlly do not care abt anyone in Skyclan(I like Leafstar but she's not a fav yknow?) Cloudstar... he was based as fuck. Why did Starclan get away with this shit for real??

Scourge: It’s fucking Scourge. He’s awesome

Briarlight: I’m disabled and I love her. She has such a consistent fun, sweet personality and she makes me happy!!<3

RavenBarley: It deserves all the attention and hype it gets. Though I wish mlm ships didn’t overshadow wlw ones in this fandom, RavenBarley is genuinely well written and makes me very emotional even if the publisher didnt allow it to be explicitly canon.

CrookedBlue: TRANS WOMEN CROOKEDSTAR YURI. Two leaders having a forbidden relationship and kits is way more interesting than Oakheart. The angst of Crooked and Blue sitting next to eachother every gathering while the entire forest has their eyes on them. Don’t look for too long, don’t let the mourning slip into your voice. You have to pretend your lover is a stranger. You… have become strangers. You can never be together again. You're enemies now. This is what we wanted, isn’t it? …We’ll never be happy again.

Mothwing: Her novella delving into her relationship with Hawkfrost was so good and heartbreaking.

Heathertail: Daughter of leader, sister of a major villian, and former love interest of a protagonist! Why did she fall off the second po3 ended. She’s shown to be very compassionate and willing to put her own feelings aside for the sake of others. Would’ve honestly prefered her as a mate to Lionblaze or get a pov herself over the nothing we got.

Blackstar: *Murders an elderly woman trying to stop me from kidnapping children. Supports a dictator openly abusing/neglecting children and the elderly. Murders a man for refusing to kill mixed raced children- then tells said man’s sister that she will never be safe.* Man…. i sure do feel bad for abusing and killing all of those people…. Good thing I will face no consequences and proceed to be made leader, where I will have even more power over the wellbeing of others.

I hate. This guy.

The New Prophecy: A classic. My first series was actually tnp! i feel more attached to first arc cats tho, if you couldn't already tell by my list lmao

Johanna Map- Best Tawnypelt content out there

BlueQuince: My personal handcrafted, homemade Yuri. Bluefur feels terrible about Tiny going missing and promises Quince she’ll help her find him. They never did, but they had a very… fleeting but intimate relationship. Quince is grieving and Bluefur feels so overwhelmed by the duties in her clan. They’ve always thought of eachother since but never met again.

Tigerclaw: My name sake<3 The angst of his earlier life is so, so facinating to me. Starclan being straight fucked up and decided killing him is their only option? He was a kid and they saw him as a lost cause from the start. They never tried any other methods, never tried to steer him in the right direction or… even just take it into their own hands and kill him themself, which they have SHOWN they’re capable of.

They watched all the the horrific crimes he commited, entirely aware they were going to happen. Thats. Fucking. Horrifying. Starclan is scary as shit… and his death? FANTASTIC. I only wish he’d gotten lives from cats he killed so that him coming back to life to suffer over and over was an actual curse from Starclan and not blessings. They knew how he would die and they gave him the lives to torture him for his sins…

Flywhisker: Adhd girlies. Painfully relate to that feeling of the constant scolding for never being “good enough” because I prefer to do things a certain way or struggle to focus. So, SO happy for her when she left the clans! You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone! Hope she’s happy and warm indoors with her brother💕

(P.S. I was very suprised to find she actually had an official art piece!)

Bluestar: Get behind me women with mental disorders. I will defend you. Beautifully complex and tragic character, my favorite written in the series. Literally can't think of a single other female character in handled as seriously and with the complexity of Bluestar. (Although her super edition was a bit of an L with how others treated her, it ultimately makes her breakdown even more painful.)

Exile from Shaodwclan: Nightstar my beloved! He's such a great guy. The rightful leader of Shadowclan, always and forever.

Ravenpaw's Farewell: HE DIED IN BARLEY'S ARMS, TELLING HIM HE WILL FIND HIM, NO MATTER WHERE HE IS. FUCK.

Crookedstar art: So beautiful. I genuinely think she's one of the prettiest cats in the series. This along with her official art by Wayne Mcloughlin.

Leopardstar: As a kid I hated her and loved Blackfoot, now I hate Blackfoot and love her. #feminism. But seriously I think she has way more going for her than he ever has. Her father is a medicine cat who hates violence, the DRASTIC change in Riverclan's view of outsiders upon Crookedstar's death and her leadership. Her already having a position of power before proving she's unworthy of it. (Unlike Blackstar who gets rewarded for his racism and violence by being made leader afterwards) and the fact she has to interact with her victims on a daily basis after what she did.

The writings attempts to redeem her are really lame and dismissive of the actually damage she did, but at the very least they TRIED to do something else with her. Personally, I would have loved to see her assassinated by Mistyfoot. Just like her mother Bluestar was almost killed all those moons ago by Tigerclaw... The parallels of violence for power and violence for peace. A victim repeating the actions of the very man who killed her brother to put an end to what he started in Riverclan.... A shadow in Riverclan, if you will. (<-Pretending erin hunter has hired me to rewrite their series)

Windclan: Tunneling as a concept and inviting outsiders into their clan so friendly and casual makes the clan seems so much more diverse than the others. It always stuck out to me!

Andddd there are my current warrior cat options as of 2023! If someone actually read this whole ramble ily<3

[wing-ed-thing]

Levi x Reader x Erwin Love Triangle Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Slight Name-Calling (1)

𓆃 Levi having the initiative in a love triangle setting? What is this? An AU?

𓆃 This dynamic is sure to produce your classic love triangle feelings and troupes tenfold. Both are very powerful men with Levi being loyal, reliable, and slightly aloof, while Erwin is charming, calculating, and the definition of aloof.

𓆃 Levi has the advantage in the dynamic (which is a rarity for him, considering his reserved nature) simply because Erwin has basically sworn relationships off already.

𓆃 Although, this doesn't stop Erwin from trying to have his cake and eat it too. While he couldn't allow himself to have a life with Marie, that doesn't mean he's above teasing, flirting, and otherwise courting all time tell himself— and perhaps even telling you— that he's not looking for anything more.

𓆃 Levi also isn't one to jump at the prospect of an intimate relationship either (whatever that looks like for the two of you). He prefers to take things slow to scope you out as a person.

𓆃 Perhaps you'll hear, "Let's go out," or probably more likely, "I need dinner, let's go," but that's about the extent Levi is going.

𓆃 In fact, the only time the word "date" is ever going to be explicitly said is if you ask, "Is this a date?" to which Levi might answer, "Call it whatever you want, idiot" but only if you're particularly oblivious.

𓆃 It's more than Erwin will acknowledge. He'll make any excuse for you to accompany him on things, telling you that he wants to eat out for lunch and tells you to order what you want because he's putting it on the office tab.

𓆃 Don't even bother asking if anything is remotely outside professional because all you'll get back is, "Hm? What gave you that impression?" with a look on his face that makes you wonder if he's being serious or not.

𓆃 It's not that Erwin doesn't want you; it's that he desires something even more. This combined with his expert masking abilities and charm, translates to mixed signals at best.

𓆃 He's content with getting what he wants out of his relationship with you while avoiding placing labels on what you are for as long as possible.

𓆃 Levi, on the other hand, is far too... introspective. He has a lot going on, and he's mostly aware of it all, including his past losing people he cares about.

𓆃 There's not exactly a specific fear. It's more that he's lost tolerance for vulnerability, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Subconsciously, he almost expects good things in his life to be followed by bad things.

𓆃 He'll continue to build a deep friendship with you, displaying deepening feelings through reluctant or secretive acts of service, leaving you with a strong and intimate friendship.

𓆃 Unlike Erwin, Levi's a bit more casual about labels. Ending the love triangle could be as easy as, "Are we a couple?" "If you say so. We've been living together for 8 goddamn months."

𓆃 It'll take quite the catalyst for one of them to make a definitive move. Even if you made your intentions known, it's likely not enough to bypass Erwin's mixed thoughts or Levi's.

𓆃 Erwin doesn't even know what he wants, and Levi is too fixated on what a deeper relationship with you means.

𓆃 So until something big happens that knocks either of them into shape, Erwin is content to play house with you, and Levi will continue to scope you out, overthinking until it's too late.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

If you're interested in more Levi x Reader x Erwin, consider checking out my 17.5k fic Stupid, Stupid, Emotionally Unavailable Erwin Smith or on AO3.

[chowaya]

DATE A PRIEST THEN,

pyro!john allerdyce x female!reader

You didn't exactly like John upon first meeting him.

When you were placed in the Xavier's School for Gifted Children -all thanks for stumbling into Logan- you were immediately encouraged to be friends with a certain trio upon the Professor's advice, to mingle around John Allerdyce precisely.

Was it power compatibility? Perhaps.

Or was it because of the personality contrast that could perhaps bring the boy some good? Really, you weren't sure what the professor was even thinking.

You had a very unique pyro-mutation, different from what many others had seen. While normal fire has its warm and orange hue, yours glowed beryl flames with hints of pink and white.

While normal fire was commonly associated with destruction, huge and powerful, and hurtful— yours was still wound afflicting but had the gift to heal, and could easily form shapes of sorts. It was unique, best believe.

Even you noticed how the said boy would be intrigued. Still, that didn't exactly make you the most civil people around each other despite the similarities and contrast that could balance you two out.

Always managing to find time to slip in snide remarks and snarky comments. Trust, you weren't usually someone who got easily riled up but that man just does it for you.

Everything about him, just does it for you.

His dick attitude, his cocky-asshole persona, his way of thinking which intrigued you none the less, his stupid big eyes that absolutely contradicted with his menacing grin and that stupid bed of hair on his head!

Bobby and Anna-Marie just let you go off at each other at this point, they couldn't bother anymore with how long this has been going on. Even the adults, are absolutely tired of your bullshitery with each other. You're an asshole to him and he hates you.

He's an asshole to you and you hate him.

But do you really? You don't.

Not really.

You know that and he knows too— no matter how much you hide it from everyone. The same goes for him. He doesn't actually hate you.

You both know each other differently, catching the other person in a different light in absurd times— you'd catch yourself sympathizing with him in a lot of situations which has you silent. You felt for him, there was that link of being so similar yet so different to him. Hating him was way more intimate than what you would've thought.

He knows your weakness and you know his.

You're exactly the same but not.

Maybe, that's why you're in this position.

Sitting at the deck of the lake nearby the mansion, the school was livelier tonight with lights and parties. How the adults allow so to happen goes beyond your comprehension.

A red solo cup in your grasp as you stared off into the calm serene water. You left the party quite early with the fault of the loud noises— it irked you. Or maybe, because your boyfriend was caught kissing another girl, asshole.

And just when you hope no one else saw how shattered you were at the sight, having been played the fool again— John did, of course he fucking did.

So, you went out and if you went to your dorm to sleep, to forget or do something you'd still be disturbed.

So he found you here.

" Why'd you follow me, Sparky? " You spoke as a sip of liquor passes by your lips, your tied in a pony tail with your legs dangling over the water.

" Drown you, " His usual voice gave a serenity of calmness with the sarcasm that dripped with it. For someone who's brash and fiery, he's got quite the calm, bassy voice. " What the hell do you think I'm doing? "

He was standing behind you, you knew it. Not bothering to swerve and turn to look at him with eyes still fixed on the water. Unfortunately, you weren't up for banter.

" John, " You softly spoke, a cold gush of wind flew by but you didn't react to it. " Not the time. "

And you hear his worn-down converse walked up to you, creaking on the wooden dock and felt his radiating warmth be close to your side. He sat next to you instead— funny, for someone with a fire mutation too you had hands as icy as Bobby's.

" Yeah, yeah. But I'm sticking around in case your psycho ass decides to pull some stupid stunt and kill yourself out of self-deprecation. " He replied, casually taking the cup from your hands to gulp down a sip as if he was given the pass to do so.

You laugh dryly, not fighting him as he steals your drink. " Hah, very funny. "

" I'm not the one wallowing in despair "

" I'm not wallowing. " You clarified, your cheeks flushed red from the drinks. You were tipsy, but the alcohol didn't have much of an effect on you. Just a hazy mind.

Your head sunk before abruptly settling down to lean on his shoulder, even the pryokinetic teenager was surprised by the action. His body stiffened at first but eventually it eased up to relax.

And he found himself settling in this comfort with you, morphing and sharing this warmth all while the silence continued. The party noises in the background not dying down any time soon as crickets croak nearby— it was so comfortable and calming.

" Jerk. " He heard from your lips so suddenly.

" Who? Me? " He queried, shaking his shoulder but the girl shook her head. Still attached to him. " Or that pathetic guy you dated? "

" Him, but you make out to be a perfectly good candidate too. " Referring to the ex at the party.

" Aren't you the idiot for falling for a guy like that? "

" Don't push it, John. " He turned his head to you, eyes gleaming under the pale moonlight. Eyes attracted to your features, tracing every line with precision. " But yeah, you aren't wrong. "

" You're not. " He admitted. " It's not entirely your fault, I should've said something and called him a bitch or something. "

You lift your head to look at him, his eyes already staring at you. Raising his brows, you raised back in question— as if questioning why'd he do that.

" Well, I never liked him. He didn't exactly sit right with me. "

" I don't think you've liked any boys that I've dated. " You took back your cup from him for a sip but Pyro pulls it away from you.

" Then you should raise your standards, woman. " He argued back. You stayed silent- maybe actually taking his words in. Absorbing it like a sponge and analysing every point of your life that somehow got you here.

Every guy you've dated, which isn't a lot to be honest, had described you as 'easy to cheat on' at some point in the relationship- you'd brush it off every time. Thinking it's more because of your tolerant and kind behavior that's just considered nice.

But no, you see the relationship you had with every person is just a repentance of a sought for love since the first relationship you had with, your parents. Just some cycle, again and again where you just yearn and get called boring in the end.

" I've made up my mind. I'm done. All guys might as well be Satan." You stated instead, swearing off relationships for the meantime as you try to figure all this out.

" Date a priest then, sister. " He remarked, a smile crept up his lips over an earned laugh from you. Slapping his knee, still laughing at his words even though it's the most stupid joke you've ever heard- borderline horrid. " That's so fuckin' stupid. "

" Then why are you laughing? " He chuckled at you, you were now laying on the deck whilst clutching your stomach as bliss just spread across your whole body. Maybe it was the alcohol that made the joke ten times better, but oh well.

" Hey, hey! " He lightly hit your stomach with adorable chuckles leaving his lips as your giggles hadn't yet died. Still going on, running for like a marathon. But once you did stop, chest heaving as you stared at his sitting figure with endearment. " I think I'm drunk. " You concluded.

He scoffed but grinned still, " You think? "

You smiled at him, and suddenly maybe things that happened with your ex-boyfriend aren't so hard to swallow anymore.

But oh, John. He was still smilling at you, you wondered what he was thinking now— he had these round eyes that were soft in stature, dazzling. Oh, yeah you're drunk.

You know this isn't usually him. In normal situations where people needed comfort, John would tiptoe across the matter not affording to make jokes— actually he'd outright avoid it. Passing it on to someone else and letting it be their problem now.

You'd see it in his avoidance of vulnerability when it presents itself in some form, he didn't like to be around it. Afraid to be caught in it— but here, you could see his trying effort.

He's really working through it. Hoping this was a stupid decision he made by comforting you would be worth it— " I should probably take you back to your dorm before Summer kills me for leaving his favourite student. "

And you really want to let him know that you do see it— that you acknowledge him, that you're thankful for his efforts. " I should bake you cupcakes for this, when I'm a little sober maybe. "

" Oh, really? How un-asshole of you. " He got up and pulled you up too, brushing his bum with his hands.

" Yeah, " You meant that.

You held your hands together to recall the warmth that was just given to you, his hands steadily holding onto you like he's your rock— " I want chocolate ones. "

[ouatsqincorrect]

ok once upon a time failed in many regards but one thing they continuously did right were the scenes of sq on regina’s front porch (whether we’re talking about shipping them or not, it doesn’t matter)

anyway i’m gonna rant so.

in 1x01, regina starts off on the porch, being higher than emma and showing the audience that she has the power but she comes down when she’s threatening her, which is interesting because now they’re on the same level. which i’m guessing is supposed to give us some sort of moment of clarity for emma or maybe regina doesn’t really believe what she’s saying. they’re suddenly on the same level though which means in this moment their power is equal. regina has the ability to fuck up emma’s life and emma has the ability to fuck up hers. but then regina steps back onto the porch and emma doubts regina’s love for henry, telling us she’s doubting regina and that doubt actually gives regina some of the power back (because she actually really does love henry)

also the coloring of this scene is perfection. it’s meant to make us feel threatened and misled. and show that regina is being intimating. (the color of their outfits is also so important)

OH and that arc shot!! when the camera does a 360 around emma and we’re suddenly facing regina, this is meant to make us feel a little lost but keep those power dynamics between them

honeslty this is one of my favorite scenes in the entire show because it’s actually really well thought out, directed and edited. plus jmo and lana acted their asses off

THEN, in 1x18, we have this other moment of them on the porch where emma’s accusing regina of having framed mary margaret (not in so many words but the point is there). in this scene, there is literally not one moment where the two of them are on a different level. emma has gained some power, she has figured regina out, and regina no longer has the upper hand. (their outfits being almost the exact same also proves that point)

in 2x10, they’re back on the porch again when emma confronts regina about archie’s death. they start off at equal height, and then when emma steps off the porch, we literally see regina step down too. regina may be getting confronted and accused of something horrible, but they’re still equal here. regina even knocks emma down, but emma gets right back up.

not to mention, they’re outfits in this scene are SO important because they literally are the exact opposite of what they wore in 1x01.

and then finally, in 5x05, we have another scene with them on the porch when emma’s the dark one and regina confronts her about camelot and what happened with the dreamcatcher. (again, it’s all about confronting. these two only have scenes on this porch when it’s about one of them confronting the other)

they start off with the same level of power. they’re at each others height, until regina leaves and emma walks off the step. she literally has that power taken away from her in this moment because, arguably, she’s just lost her son and regina and even though she’s the dark one, that loss takes something from her.

and AGAIN—their outfits. regina is wearing red (shes pissed, has the power, we’re being encouraged to focus on her and maybe even relate) and emma’s wearing black (she’s depressed, and has power, even if that power gets taken form her just a little in this scene)

the fact that this scene happens at night (when all the other ones happened during the day) i think is also really important. we as the audience feel a little uneasy here and that’s done on purpose.

these scenes just really get to me because they genuinely get the job done. they do exactly what television is supposed to do, which is affect the audience without actually saying something. we don’t need to hear what emma and regina are saying in these scenes to understand their roles, their power, and the way they feel about that particular moment

[words-and-coffee]

So this last year, though I didn't read too much fiction, I read a lot of poetry, most of which was from poets I had never read before. Here are my favourite poetry books of those I read in 2023 (trigger warnings I noticed in the read more).

Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón (5/5) An intimate, beautifully sincere look into a vulnerable space of life, loss, love, and lust. Limón expresses herself with exquisite language, without the aftertaste of pretence. I had never read Limón's work previously, but I will be looking at her back catalogue.

C+nto & Othered Poems by Joelle Taylor (4.5/5) I had never read Joelle Taylor before; however, it became evident almost immediately that she is an extremely skilled and experienced poet and wordsmith. Taylor's writing is intentional and powerful, with times of both great beauty and brutality. The collection itself is centred around reflecting on butch counterculture.

Always Italicise: How to Write While Colonised by Alice Te Punga Somerville (4.5/5) Always Italicised is a wonderful collection centred around a visually powerful concept of italicising foreign (non-native) words following the suggestion that foreign (non-English) words should be italicised in a fantastic act of malicious compliance. The primary focus is on colonisation and Te Punga Somerville's experience as a Māori writer and scholar in Aotearoa. Reflecting on the loss of language, the stigma and the historical oppression that Maori people have experienced/continue to experience as a consequence of colonisation.

The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On by Franny Choi (4.5/5) This book has my favourite title of the year and the poetry lives up to it. My previous experience with Choi was in her spoken word work and I found this collection just as enjoyable, I listened to her narration on audiobook while reading along and found the poems to be beautifully reflective, personal, and rich in atmosphere.

Flèche by Mary Jean Chan (4/5) Chan's short collection is complex and interesting, she mainly reflects on her relationship with her mother, and her experiences as a queer person of colour. The collection feels raw in a beautiful and occasionally painful way.

The Trees Witness Everything by Victoria Chang (4/5) Another banger of a title. I really loved the imagery in Chang's writing. She writes with intent and skill which is obvious from the get-go. While I struggled to connect with this collection on an emotional level I still was in awe of it on a technical level.

Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón Graphic: Grief, Death, Death of parent, and Terminal illness Moderate: Animal death, Racial slurs, Xenophobia, and Racism Minor: Alcoholism and Drug abuse

C+nto & Othered Poems by Joelle Taylor Graphic: Hate crime, Death, Lesbophobia, Homophobia, and Violence Moderate: Misogyny, Sexual assault, and Sexual violence

Always Italicise: How to Write While Colonised by Alice Te Punga Somerville Graphic: Colonisation Moderate: Racism Minor: Miscarriage

The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On by Franny Choi Graphic: Death, Xenophobia, War, Racism, Violence, Grief, Police brutality, Sexual assault, and Colonisation Moderate: Sexual violence, Sexism, Suicide, Rape, and Police brutality

Flèche by Mary Jean Chan Graphic: Homophobia, Lesbophobia, and Racism Moderate: Mental illness and Self harm

The Trees Witness Everything by Victoria Chang Moderate: Death

[according2thelore]

listen it's already wincest wednesday in my neck of the woods so I'm gonna just get right down to it: couldn't stop thinking about sam being just weirdly obsessed with dean's circumcision scar (in like the a sweet body-worship kind of way but also in a gross-boys-being-gross-boys kind of way; they contain multitudes) and THEN had to contend with the idea that post!S3, if post!hell dean got rehymenated... did he also have to have his circumcision redone? or was he just rockin' foreskin for the rest of the series? genuinely I think this is the most I've ever considered hypothetical foreskin in my life. anyways, a tip of the hat and a glorious wincest wednesday to you all!

EEEE anon!!!! correct!!!!!!

[NSFT under the cut!!!!!]

i imagine in a scenario where dean is circumcised and sam is not, it's because mary and john intended to have it done, but haven't gotten it done yet, but obviously, it slips through the cracks after the fire.

i think it starts as a 'hey this is different than me.' (if anything at first sam gets kinda bummed about it, bc it's another sign that dean got something when he was younger (a happy family that had time to care abt things like that) that sam didn't)

but like...then it gets weird.

if they're intimate pre-hell, sam can't stop touching the scar. he'll blow dean just so he can feel it against his tongue, he'll reach over and put his hand down dean's pants just when they're watching TV or something so he can hold his dick in his hand and run his finger along it.

maybe dean notices that sam's a little obsessed, but just chalks it up to sam being weird bc dean's going to hell in a month.

and of course if we look at the traditional religious implications of circumcision, it's a physical difference between them, a show that dean has this covenant with a higher power that sam does not because he's demonic, and he's evil, and he's wrong.

but when dean comes back w a foreskin, i don't even think he notices until he showers. he screams bloody murder, and bobby kicks the bathroom door in, and dean's like "what the FUCK did they do to my dick??"

the first time they're intimate post-hell, sam sticks his hand down dean's pants and freezes. dean totally forgot to give him a heads-up, but it's too late as sam rips dean's pants down.

game over, honestly. sam doesn't become any less obsessed. he loves the way he can slide it back and taste dean's sweat, his dried come. you also bet they dock. like all the time.

as for getting it done again, i wouldn't be surprised if that was an implication from the higher ups, like 'oh look u can prove your loyalty again, and choose to make this covenant again type thing w heaven,' but i don't imagine dean being down with that (but if he does get it done again, sam wants to do it, you can't change my mind; getting to MAKE that scar?? jesus christ (charlotte agrees))

anyway.

you're right, i've also never thought about the state of dean's dick season to season, but ahh...yeah.

thank you anon for this lovely ask, and happy (day-late) wincest wednesday!

-lizzy

[supermarvel-fics]

Just Tell Her

merry christmas @poutpoutlilith <3 I was happy to be your squealing santa this year! this is my first time writing for ouat so bear with me, but i truly enjoyed writing every bit of it! thank you to @squealing-santa for hosting!

word count: 3,000

pairing: emma swan x regina mills

rated: pg-13

cw: talks of kinks, mild nudity, heated kissing scenes, intimate themes (no smut)

summary: emma is scared to talk to regina about her biggest kink.

Emma was fierce. Always has been, always will be.

When she arrived in Storybrooke, she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. She’d stand up to whoever necessary to do the right thing. She could, literally, kick ass and look pretty while doing it. But most importantly, she was never afraid to fight for Henry and his well-being, even if that meant crossing Regina Mills.

Regina Mills didn’t scare Emma. Never has, never will.

Sure, she’s tough and is definitely a force to be reckoned with, but not scary. Not to Emma, anyway. It took Emma a while to break through Regina’s powerful exterior, even after they got together. Regina would swear up and down that she didn’t have feelings for Emma the way Emma had feelings for Regina, but everyone knew it was a façade. It’s what made the people of Storybrooke less frightened. Mary Margaret was fully convinced Emma made Regina tolerable, but Emma knew that Regina had always had that soft spot. She just had to find it.

So, no, Emma was not scared of Regina, but for some reason talking about this to Regina scared the hell out of her.

It happened accidentally the first time—Regina had hugged her and when she pulled away, her fingertips trailed a little too lightly against her lower back. Emma hissed in response, arching away from the fingers and into Regina’s body. She cursed herself for reacting at all, but it was so quick that she didn’t have time to prepare herself.

The remembrance of her kink came flooding into her head and once it was there, it would set up shop for a while. She’d forgotten about it because of the length of time it’d been since she’d been with anyone romantically. Plus, she had to focus on Henry and saving Storybrooke. She didn’t have time to think about what turned her on.

Emma’s cheeks flushed red as she pushed Regina away from her. Regina raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down.

“Are you alright?”

A loaded question. Emma sniffled, waving her hand in the air to dismiss everything that had happened in the last 10 seconds. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. I just got a chill.”

Regina hummed and seemed to let it go because then she shook her head and continued to thank her for taking Henry camping so that she could get some work done. Emma absentmindedly kept the conversation going, but the still-there tingling on her lower back was taking up space in her mind. Too much space.

Even after the feeling faded away, Emma replayed the moment over and over in her head, the smallest smile tugging at her lips. She couldn’t help it. Tickling in general can, and will, make Emma turn into goo. Being tickled, watching others being tickled, even just reading the word—it’s her weakness.

And since that small moment with Regina, it was all she could think about.

Emma began secretly wishing that it would happen again. She wanted to feel her nerves pulse as Regina slid her fingers over her skin. But wishing wasn’t enough. No, it wouldn’t happen unless Emma talked about it, which Emma would like to do just about as much as she’d like to go back to Boston.

Though, as time went on and nothing ever happened, Emma began feeling antsy. Needy, even.

The second time it happened was also an accident, but Regina knew it’d tickled Emma. A string from Emma’s jacket was left astray on her neck and Regina reached her hand up and brushed it off. Emma squeaked and shrugged her shoulder up to her ear, a shiver running straight down her spine.

“Sorry,” Regina said, the corners of her mouth tilting up the smallest amount. “You had a string.”

Emma looked at Regina with wide eyes, but her smile betrayed her. “It was fine where it was.”

“It was bothering me. Not to mention it got the cutest reaction out of you,” Regina chuckled. This third time was not an accident, but Emma’s response was. Regina shot her hand up to Emma’s neck again, fluttering her fingers at the soft skin under her ear. Emma giggled, shrinking away and swatting at Regina’s hand.

“Stohop!”

It was an impulse. It’s what everyone says when they’re being tickled. Emma didn’t actually mean it. If anything, she wanted Regina to do it again. But she put the nail in her own coffin.

“Apologies, dear,” Regina grinned, stepping closer to place a soft kiss to the side of Emma’s temple. It was over as quickly as it started and Emma’s heart sank. She knows that people say that when they really don’t want to be tickled, so why on God’s green earth would she say that?

It put Emma between a rock and a hard place. She couldn’t take it back. Not without completely admitting that she liked it. So, she just sighed and continued her work, hoping that one word wouldn’t deter Regina from ever trying to tickle her again.

It did.

Regina hadn’t tried tickling her on purpose, nor had she done it accidentally. Emma was beginning to think that she was making a conscious effort not to and it was driving her crazy. Since that day Regina had hugged her—4 months back—all Emma could think about was being tickled by her. She even stooped as low as trying the oldest trick in the book—getting on her last nerve.

Despite hiding Regina’s favorite blazer and playfully ignoring her when she asked a question, she never tried it again.

Emma eventually gave up. The hope of Regina ever tickling her diminished faster than blowing out a candle. The thoughts were still lingering in her mind, but Emma stopped trying to antagonize her into it.

The fourth time it happened was just a stray of fingers during an impromptu make-out session that was nearing its way towards sex. Regina had pulled Emma out of the office abruptly, claiming she needed her for something important. It didn’t take long for Emma to figure out that ‘something important’ included lazy, yet hot kisses and trailing hands up her body to rip her clothes off.

The rendezvous had made its way to their shared bedroom within moments and Emma and Regina were already half-naked. Emma laid back on the bed and Regina crawled her way on top of her, seductively kissing her way up Emma’s body. Whimpers, moans, and hisses filled the silent room.

It only took a few minutes for Regina’s hands to skim their way up Emma’s body, lightly trailing over her hip bones and up her sides. Emma arched her back and a quiet giggle slipped from her mouth. Regina would have missed it had she not been face to face with her.

“Sorry, sorry,” Regina muttered through a kiss to Emma’s neck, which coincidentally tickled too. Emma smiled and flinched in reflex, but her eyes went wide. It was now or never. This would be the perfect time to bring it up without it being too weird but still, Emma’s heart thumped against her chest like a drum. It was almost painful.

“It’s okay, really,” Emma replied, moaning when Regina reached that spot under her ear. She wanted to say more, but Regina flattened her hands against her ribs and since she was very consciencely aware of where Regina’s hands were placed at all times, she held her breath. Her heartbeat was the only sound she could hear.

“You don’t have to say it’s okay. Especially if you hate it.”

Emma wasn’t sure what she thought Regina would have said, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

“W-what?” Emma tilted her head to see her girlfriend better, giving her a quizzical look. “You think I hate it?” This set-up was almost perfect. It’s as if the situation had literally fell into her lap and she could tell the truth without feeling like she was dropping a bomb.

Regina sat up, sitting on Emma’s thighs and returning her look. “Well, yeah… don’t most people?”

Emma shook her head and raised a brow at Regina’s complete innocence. “Not necessarily,” she said. Regina hummed in response, but Emma was on the verge of telling the truth. The conversation couldn’t stop there. “What made you think I hated it?

“You told me to stop that one time I tickled your neck, remember?” Regina recalled. Of course Emma remembered. It was the only thing she’d thought about for weeks. How Regina’s eyes sparkled with mischief when she realized Emma was ticklish. How she smirked when she playfully flit her fingers on Emma’s neck. How she never did it again because of Emma’s slip of the tongue. And she couldn’t even fault Regina for it because of how easy it was to believe that she didn’t like being tickled. Emma had never brought it up and Regina had never tried before then.

So, now that the conversation had been brought up, Emma would finally tell Regina how she truly feels.

“Yeah, but I don’t hate it,” Emma mumbled, avoiding eye contact, “Everyone says stop. It’s a trauma response.”

Regina narrowed her eyes at Emma. “You don’t hate it?”

Emma shook her head, her eyes still laser focused on the bed sheets crumpled around their legs. Regina didn’t speak for a while. The gears in her head were busy turning as she remembered the signs. How Emma would antagonize her. How Emma would lean into her touch when they’d make out. It all made sense. Regina’s mouth tilted up into a small smile.

“You like it,” she said. A simple sentence that made Emma’s face burn hot. Her heartbeat felt heavier as her body tensed. Maybe this was a mistake. It’s not normal to feel this way about being tickled. Her ex knew that, hence why it was part of the reason he left. Just as Emma felt hot tears spring to her eyes in embarrassment, Regina’s cold hand touched her chin and lifted her head up to look at her.

Understanding. No judgement. Adoration. Maybe a mix of all three. That’s what Regina’s eyes held when Emma finally locked hers onto her girlfriend’s.

“How much do you like it?” Regina asked in genuine curiosity. Emma knew the answer and what she wanted to say, but all the preparations couldn’t have prepared her for this question. “I only ask because I have to know how far I can take this.” A smirk plastered itself on Regina’s face and holy hell, Emma’s heart constricted along with heat pooling in her lower abdomen.

“I, uh—a lot,” was all Emma could muster. She wished she wasn’t so paralyzed with fear even after knowing that Regina is clearly okay with it, but she’d always been this way. It took a lot for her to mention it in her last relationship and it ended with her ex calling it strange. She liked Regina. Loved, even. She just didn’t want to mess this up.

“A lot as in…” Regina lifted her tone into a question to leave it open for Emma, but she just reverted her eyes back down to the bed. “Does it turn you on, Emma?”

If Emma’s face wasn’t hot to the touch, it definitely was now. There are very few things that Regina is shy about and apparently tickling, and the prospect of using it as foreplay, isn’t one of them. Emma swallowed hard giving Regina the answer she was looking for, but she nodded quickly too.

“Look at me, dear,” Regina coaxed, rubbing her knuckles along Emma’s thigh. The pull in Regina’s voice was just enough to make Emma comply, so she sighed and looked up, attempting to find the acceptance in Regina’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me before? We’ve had plenty of sex and you never bothered to mention it.”

“It just never came up,” Emma shrugged. “When it did, I was so scared of what you might say or think that I just couldn’t talk about it.” She bit her lip anxiously and awaited Regina’s response.

“Emma, you can always talk to me. There isn’t anything on this planet that you could tell me that would make me hate you or scare me off,” Regina said, brushing away a stray tear that slipped from Emma’s eye. “I mean, maybe if you told me you eat people, that would be a different story, buhut…” A laugh slipped from Regina’s mouth, which got Emma to smile too. “But this? This is far from scary. In fact, it’s hot.”

Regina lifted her palms from Emma’s legs, leaving just the tips of her fingers to trace lazy and slow circles on her upper thighs. Emma was immediately covered in goosebumps, her hands gripping the bed sheets.

“Where are you ticklish?” Regina asked her lover sultrily, gently pushing her down to her previous position so she could get a good look at Emma’s body. Smooth and fawn-colored skin that Regina could manipulate in any way she wanted once given consent. Her fingers trailed back up to Emma’s hip bones, circling just above the waistband of her underwear. “I think I pulled a giggle from you right about here earlier.”

Emma giggled again, her stomach erupting with butterflies and heat rather than knots and anxiety. “Everywhehere. Pretty much everywhere,” Emma blurted out.

Regina’s eyes lit up with excitement. “That is wonderful news, Emma. Thank you for making this so easy,” she teased, scratching more firmly at Emma’s hips. “Now, I’ll ask you again. How far can I take this?”

“As far as you want,” Emma replied with a small moan interlaced with her words. “My safe word is ‘red’.”

Regina smiled at her girlfriend’s willingness to submit herself to this, the sheer excitement and wanting seeping from her skin. The slightest touch made Emma squirm, which Regina was delighted to see.

“Then, put your hands behind your head. Don’t move them,” Regina ordered, her core clenching at the sight of Emma in such a vulnerable position. Emma did as told and bit her lip through a grin. Her entire body was on display, only her undergarments shielding her from being completely naked. They’d come off eventually, Regina thought. “Good girl.”

Regina placed her fingers on either side of Emma’s belly button, softly spidering them across her stomach. Emma’s abdominal muscles reacted instantly, jumping underneath Regina’s light touch. Emma’s quiet giggles turned into a real laugh, making Regina smile with endearment.

“Oh, you are very ticklish, aren’t you?” Regina cooed as she continued lightly tickling the blonde beneath her. She couldn’t help but notice the tiniest moans and whimpers falling out of Emma’s mouth, the sounds filling her heart with joy and lust. Regina moved her fingers up to scratch at Emma’s ribs, earning her a loud gasp. Her arms shot down to cover the vulnerable area, but Regina halted her fingers, looking down at Emma with an arched brow. “What did I tell you to do with your arms?”

Emma blinked. “T-To put them behind my head?”

“And…”

“And not to move them,” Emma finished her sentence, her cheeks blossoming with a dark shade of pink. Regina adopted another smirk.

“Exactly. Put them back. If they come down again, I’ll have to restrain you, understand?”

Emma wasn’t sure if she could finish on words alone, but she was pretty damn close. She’d never seen Regina so dominant, but she really enjoyed it. So, Emma nodded and placed her hands back behind her head, lacing her fingers together so hard that her knuckles turned white.

Regina didn’t say anything in response to Emma’s compliance. Instead, she resumed tickling her girlfriend’s ribs, grinning slyly when she let out a whine followed by a belly laugh.

“Reginahaha!” Emma cried out, turning her head to laugh into her elbow. Regina tilted her head and let out a satisfied hum at Emma’s reaction. After another minute, she quickly shot her hands up to Emma’s armpits, laughing herself at Emma’s squeal and how fast her arms clamped down on her fingers. Regina continued wiggling her fingers despite them being trapped and Emma’s laugh turned into a cackle as she attempted to roll over to flee from her assailant.

The brunette stopped after a few more seconds and both of their laughter died down. The two of them locked eyes again, Emma breathing deeply to catch her breath and Regina brushing the hair away from Emma’s face.

“You’re adorable,” Regina spoke after the silence had lingered for too long. “I’m delighted to know this information about you.”

“Which part? That I’m ticklish or that I like it?” Emma propped herself up by her elbows and huffed. Regina shook her head and pushed Emma back down for the second time that night.

“Both. Now, I’m not done with you, my dear. As a matter of fact, we’re just getting started,” Regina said, bending down to kiss Emma. They both moaned into each other’s mouth at the contact. Emma reached up to lace her fingers through Regina’s hair, but she put a stop to that quickly by grabbing Emma’s wrist and pinning it to the bed beside her head. “I do believe I said that if you moved again, I’d be restraining you. Did you think I was bluffing?”

Emma rubbed her legs together and sighed. “No, of course not.”

Regina placed her fingertips at the base of Emma’s sternum and slowly dragged them down to her hips, relishing in the pleasurable moans seeping from her lover’s mouth. “Good. You wait here while I get the cuffs.”

Emma watched as Regina swiftly got off the bed and strutted into the closet, watching her hips sway with every step. Then, she formed a genuine smile.

To think that Emma was genuinely scared to tell Regina about a kink that has ignited a newfound fire in their bedroom is almost laughable now. She should have known that Regina would be open to anything that turned her on just as she would be for Regina. It’s how healthy couples worked.

Emma chuckled to herself as Regina came back with the restraints she promised. Little did she know, Emma disobeyed her on purpose just to get a taste of that punishment.

[glasskey]

Justice THT Style - Part 4 - Tuello

Today I’m going to be discussing Tuello and all his various forms of justice. Tuello’s had quite a journey lately and as his allegiance to June grows, so too his sense of Justice must also change.

In season 4, when Fred was at the top of everyone’s shit list, we were finally given a proper introduction to Mark Tuello (YAY). As a character he seems to have an almost Teflon like quality, he’s likeable to the point of being cuddly, and even when he does fuck up he seems to redeem himself without so much as a scratch. I love Tuello, he’s extremely layered and I’m always on board for the onions in any cast of characters. Tuello is, for all intents and purposes, the Nick Blaine of Canada. They both occupy positions of power and judgement and like Blaine, Tuello acts like a light in the dark whenever June needs to find safe harbour.

As a diplomat it’s expected that Tuello’s sense of justice is strictly procedural and in season 4 he bargains with Fred to acquire him as an asset. But he’s a complicated guy, Tuello feels Junes rage and frustration, he knows Fred is a POS who doesn’t deserve immunity and a quiet house in the suburbs. He knows full well that by handing over Fred to Gilead he’ll be sentencing him to death, but regardless he marches him with firm righteousness across the border and does just that.

The similarities between this and Blaine's walk with Fred through the woods seemed to foretell the partnership between these two men in delivering justice that was at last cemented in season 5. With both men Fred stops mid walk to rage indignantly at them, only to be brutally rebuffed each time. I am not joking when I say the very SECOND I saw Blaine jump out of that truck and flash those suspenders (sweet mother of Mary) I knew their partnership would come to pass.

Like Blaine he’s not really one to revel in retributive justice, but in this case he was happy to partake and in season 5 he stopped by Junes’ house to give her an unexpected pat on the back for her murderous endeavours. Tuello also seemed to have an intimate knowledge of what this would ultimately cost June personally…..the figurative second grave.

Tuello may be truly benevolent, but every move he makes is a precise and purposeful attempt at the restoration of democracy to a broken country. Tuello likes Blaine, he honestly believes he is an “honourable man” and he’s truly awed by Nicks love for June. He’s a romantic and he simply can’t understand why Serena would go back to Fred or why Nick didn’t run away with June. He’s visibly heart broken when Blaine professes that he feels worthless and I was utterly convinced in that moment that Tuello would need to light the way, if Nick was ever to hope to make it back to June.

As romantic as he may be, he’s no fool, he makes Nick sign a contract and he intends to hold him to it. Nick Blaine is a HUGE asset to Tuello, ultimately taking the place that Fred would have occupied as a source of information about the inner workings of Gilead, this may mean that Nick is in for a long haul as a double agent. Tuello is ultimately a real messenger of peace; his kindness towards Blaine, his repeated attempts to help Serena, his attempt to rescue Hannah and his warnings about New Bethlehem, all testify to this. Everything about Tuello is designed to command respect, but in his case its done with a kind word and a contract instead of a noose. Tuello has been constructed to be almost father figure like in nature. There’s something wonderfully comforting about his presence; he has a voice that could read you off into a blissful slumber and he’s rarely seen dressed in anything but a well tailored suit.

Tuello is remarkably cool headed in most situations, even those that should send him into a tail spin. I’ve only seen him get slightly flustered once or twice, the most notable being when June neglected to make an appointment and surprised him jogging. To be fair, no one looks their best clammy and gasping for breath, and lets face it their last encounter didn’t really end on a high note.

While I’m thrilled to have Tuello along as an ally, I’m acutely aware that everything about him screams (in a warm caramel voice) the virtues of restorative justice, and I’m wondering how well our lovely diplomat will fair once he’s seen some actual corpses swing. Tuello, like Blaine, may want to stick to the rule of moral and law, but I fear that as Gilead seeps across the border, he may quickly come to realise that stronger methods will be required in order to restore peace. Next time I’ll be discussing the use of Tokens in THT. What are they and what do they mean? See you then.

[corvus-rose]

jaye i would like to hear anything you'd like to share about guardian project

I talked about Aki a lot to you, but the actual protagonist of guardian project is Maria Takei. And she's possibly one of my favourite protagonists I've written ever.

Her backstory is that she was on the wrong subway car at the wrong time and ended up as the lab rat of Primordial Lord Iris, and gets guardian'd while escaping.

Her guardian theme is mirrors! Her power is reflecting magic with big magical mirror barriers.

The fact that she knows anything about Iris so intimately means she's pursued by every faction once she escapes to Yokohama. Mari fucking hates this. She didn't sign up to be a guardian (nobody does) and she didn't sign up to join this faction war.

That being said, she's still an altruist at heart. Sometimes, that hinders Mari's own plans to escape from Yokohama. Iris is still pursuing her after all, and Mari won't leave the innocent people of the city to suffer because of something she kinda brought to them.

The other protagonists, Kiko and Hana, are folks who want to protect Mari and her freedom, but disagree ideologically on how to do this. Mari usually mediates between them, and can't really decide which vision she likes better -- Kiko's promise of greater protection with a pack/patron behind her, or Hana's idea of radical freedom from the faction war.

For the first part of the plot Mari is fuelled by godlike levels of go with the flow. Iris is sending primordial monstrosities to re-capture her? Well fuck better take care of that. The other factions are after her too? She tries politeness judo-ing her way out of it before resorting to magic fights. Kiko's own alleged teammates are after her for some reason? That's weird but see above. Bisexual awakening? Don't have time to unpack that! Kiss a hot dude from Arcadia! Kiss both of her protectors! Not thinking about it though!

Mari ends up at Primordial Hell Night because she was the bait. She ends up escaping ground zero, regrouping with her pals, and taking on the main threat of the night, primordial lord Morrigan. After that, Mari starts being more proactive, starting with tracking down Morrigan's demon core in order to end her threat for good. But after destroying the core, Mari decides to spare Morrigan -- after learning her backstory, Mari just saw the former lord as an angry, traumatized kid lashing out, who deserved to live and grow.

Unfortunately Aki comes to nip that potential redemption arc in the bud and take Mari into custody for Arcadia :)

Starting season 3 kidnapped under Arcadian protection, Mari has what I can only describe as a radicalization moment. She sees Arcadia for the power-hungry organization it really is, and decides that running away from it isn't enough, It Has To Go.

Season 3 Mari is Mari at her most proactive, and I like to think that season is about Mari building up an ideology of her own, and that ideology's battle against Arcadian norms, especially represented by Sadako, their paragon.

It's also about finally killing Iris for good though! At the end of the season Mari actually fucking kills Iris! I imagine there's a moment where Iris is kind of at her mercy, but none of the clemency Mari showed Morrigan is there because fuck Iris in particular.

But shortly after that is the final showdown with Sadako, and by extension Arcadia. And that's really interesting.

At this point, Sadako has nothing left but her wavering conviction in Arcadia, and her reaction to this is to try and martyr herself. Go down fighting against on of Arcadia's new enemies and hope she doesn't have to live to see her world crumble.

And again, Mari defeats her and has a clear shot at killing Sadako... but this time, she doesn't take it. She just kinda kneels by Sadako's side and says something like, "Sadako, I hope you live a long, healthy life. You're gonna need it." Before walking away.

A lot like Morrigan, Mari has some sympathy for Sadako, seeing her as not a heartless bastard but someone scared and lashing out. Unlike Morrigan, Mari's softness only extends so far. This act of mercy is a little (a lot) spiteful towards Sadako. Like oh you want to become a martyr? You put me through so much bullshit because of your weird ideological and psychosexual hangups and continue to do so even if would mean your death? Fuck you. Live bitch.

Mari certainly didn't set out to become some sort of leader or hero, but she ended up as one anyways. I figure at the end of the series she gets what she wants, leaves Yokohama and goes home... but I don't think she stays home, or at least doesn't just return to her peaceful life like she wanted at the start. I think she returns to corral the little movement she ends up starting. The work is never done, after all, but she can live with that now.

[averbaldumpingground]

Because you have given me prompt powers: Halloween by Noah Kahan

You've always had prompt powers. Even if you horribly misuse them.

There is a letter waiting for him from his sister at Mrs. Olafsson's boarding house when he returns to settle his accounts. Mary is already teething. And Little Jacob, named for his father, has started learning his letters. He does not crumple it into the fireplace, but his reply is curt, and hastily scrawled. He has no need to linger any longer.

She does not comment on his agitation when promising to post his response, but Elna, the Olafssons's niece, does ask him to wait for her for a few moments at the threshold. She has a bundle for him, fresh bread and hard cheese and salt cod. Her eyes are troubled when she sees him off, and he is grateful for the kindness she has shown him, even if it is borne out of pity rather than any sort of particular fondness or regard for his person.

Elna's own father had sailed for a time on a whaler. She knows what awaits him past Greenland, perhaps far more intimately than he has dared to inquire himself.

But Nathaniel does not wish to dwell on the dangers of his newly chosen profession any more than he had wished to dwell on the contents of his sister's letter. He was to except a new niece or nephew by Christmas. Jacob had been tasked with producing a rather execrable tract by one William Gilmore Simms. A canal is being built, and there is plenty of work to be had should Nathaniel be inclined to embrace such a wonderful opportunity. Frankly, it seems preferable to him to perish at sea.

On the long walk to the harbor, Nathaniel has too much time to ponder his own unfortunate circumstances. Were he the sort of man inclined to marry, he supposes it would be to someone like Elna: diligent, kind, and well past the age to hope for anything more than the same in a husband. She is quite a bit older than him and seems content enough in her prolonged state of spinsterhood that she is unlikely to be particularly desirous of children. Nathaniel has considered it before.

It would be a farce, of course, but he has long since abandoned all notions of meaningful companionship or anything resembling desire. He had been acquainted with it once, as a boy, and thought those foolish feelings reciprocated, with promises whispered between stolen kisses smudged into his hair and his skin.

That pitiful illusion has been thoroughly shattered with news of his sister's engagement to Jacob.

There had been no prior indication, nothing to prepare him for the gravity of Jacob's betrayal, the whole of their apprenticeship shy glances and fumbling hands and brief, pilfered Sundays together. He could not object to the match without likewise exposing his own inclinations, so he had said exactly nothing, and signed on to the crew of a merchant vessel, in a spectacular disappointment to both his uncle and his mother. By the time his ship had returned to port, Jacob had wisely moved on, his journeyman years as a convenient enough excuse.

It is just as well, Nathaniel thinks. His sister's letters, too frequent and rather too long when he is in port, present the sort of portrait of a man Nathaniel counts himself exceedingly ashamed to know.

Or is it that he never really knew him?

Rather than ponder his own youthful folly, Nathaniel contemplates the voyage he is about to embark on. The Anna Elizabeth sits waiting for him in the distance, her captain a stoic old Quaker whose cousin he has sailed with before. She is a beautiful ship.

He is not certain of her destination, the Davis Strait or maybe the whole of the Pacific, but breathing in the salinity of the harbor air, Nathaniel discovers himself temporarily at peace.

There are no letters at sea, no sisters. He only has to close his eyes to disappear.

[cartograffiti]

February '24 reading diary

I finished 19 books in February, which sounded like a mistake until I realized I read most of them as audiobooks while doing manual tasks. It's always nice when my ears are on my side (says someone with a hearing disorder).

I like poetry, but I don't read enough to feel knowledgeable about it. I've been trying to read a bit from various countries, and after I enjoyed the Pablo Neruda collection so much in January, I went on to read three other poetry books.

Khalil Gibran's The Prophet is one of those works that I've seen quoted out of context so much that I was shocked to discover I didn't actually know what it's about. It's a series of prose poetry fables with a linking plot in which the titular prophet converses with the people of a city he is departing about different aspects of life. A lot of it is really beautiful and thought-provoking, and I thought it was great. It's become a popular source of quotes for weddings and inspirational goods, but I was surprised and moved to find it's also a text about multi-faith unity; Gibran was Lebanese, and Lebanon had and has striking diversity of religions.

I also really enjoyed The Poetess Counts to 100 and Bows Out, a collection by the important Venezuelan poet Ana Enriqueta Terán. I find her wordplay unusual and her subjects interesting, and even in translation, I found her work to give a powerful sense of humor and hopefulness, and a gift for creating a scene.

I did not enjoy Rupi Kaur's Milk and Honey. Kaur is one of the most famous living poets, and I had read so much praise and disdain for her work that I wanted to form my own opinion. There are turns of phrase I really liked, and it is laid out in an interesting way that means some related poems could be read either distinctly or as sections of a longer thought, which I found neat. But I found myself so grumpy the more I read of it that I ended up also reading a lot about Kaur and other people's analysis of her work, trying to contextualize why I bounced so hard off it. Many critics wrote about trying to separate her style from her content, and chose to praise just one or the other, but I am critical of both. Her style lacks personality that would tell me it was her work as opposed to any other poet's, and her content is full of basic, played-out sentiments of popular feminism and bathetic viral posts. Being reminded of "take me to a museum and then make out with me," "but they said not to touch the masterpieces," is not what I'd hoped for out of this. I do think it's a good thing and a strength of Kaur's that she is able to speak to so many people's common experiences through her clarity and intimate tone; it's a shame it didn't click with me. And unlike several professional opinions I read, I think she's completely entitled to write poetry that is not all self-revealing confessional pieces; that should not be something we demand of any art form. But it's a shame some of her verses suggest that certain kinds of shame and violence are a collective and integral part of womanhood and South Asian identity. She's only a little older than I am, and we were both students when she wrote these. I wonder whether her recent work is more sophisticated. I'm not motivated to find out.

The title of the Kaur book reminded me of some enthusiastic praise I'd read for Mary Robinette Kowal's Regency fantasy romance Shades of Milk and Honey, and I found that disappointing, too. I almost liked it; there's some great bits about making art with magic, and it's a good little world. The most interesting character doesn't get enough page time, a lot of secondary characters feel like flat loans from Austen, and the late-book resolution was forced and rushed.

In the Emelan group read, we finished! We read Melting Stones, an Evvy-centered book that I really enjoyed until it became repetitive in the second half, and feel pretty mild about, and The Will of the Empress, reuniting all the original kids as older teens, which I thought was just great. Pierce in top form, and one of the best of this setting.

Lois McMaster Bujold has a new Penric & Desdemona novella out that I haven't been able to borrow yet, but in the meantime I discovered there was one I missed. Penric is a physician mage devoted to an unusual god, which means he's benignly possessed by his demon friend Desdemona, and they have adventures and solve mysteries. This one was Knot of Shadows, about a puzzling corpse and curses. Great fun. Don't start here.

In the land of romance, I've been really enjoying Mimi Matthews's Belles of London series, about a friend group of interesting Victorian horse girls, so I read The Lily of Ludgate Hill as soon as I could. These are no-sex but sexy books with a lot of skill. I've been easily invested in each couple so far, the friends are well integrated into each other's lives even after resolving their own storylines, and their new beaus are introduced smoothly. More than that, there is a lot of consideration for the social issues and new ideas of the period. My favorite is still the first, but Anne and Felix have a strong second chance romance backstory and they're fun to see squabble and cooperate.

More romance: I finished another Gail Carriger novella, this time Defy or Defend. Dimity Plumleigh-Teignmott in the Finishing School series was only learning to be a spy because her evil genius parents wanted it. Her actual dream was to marry a nice politician of not too much importance and be a domestic goddess and social power. Now an adult working for the government, her professional partner is also her perfect man, and she hopes he'll admit to mutual feelings while they're on a mission to rescue a vampire hive from dangerous disintegration. It's very much a Cold Comfort Farm or The Grand Sophy plot of a cheerful girl solving everyone's problems, which is perfect for Dimity: I love her and I love this premise. Felix's internal conflict is a bit of a nonentity, but I don't care, he's too busy adoring Dimity and taking the trans vampire to buy new clothes.

And the last romance for the month, The Companion by E.E. Ottoman. An extraordinarily efficient novella about Madeline, a writer whose spirit has been crushed by trying to break into the industry in NYC in the 1940s. A friend arranges for her to go stay with Victor, a successful author lonely in a too-big inherited house upstate. She is quickly attracted to both him and his artist neighbor Audrey, and they adore her. All three are trans, and the core of the plot is Madeline navigating these new relationships while settling into the unfamiliar safety and encouragement offered to her. In Madeline's POV, Ottoman very much treats the poly triangle as two distinct romances and a third observed at a close distance, which means doing about 2.5 times the work of most. I went wild for the execution, which felt like magic. You do have to like reading about people trying to write and cooking, which fortunately I do. Highly recommended.

A very different book about a writer that I was impressed with this month is Malice by Higashino Keigo. In translation, this is the "first" of a longer detective series that I can't remember where I heard about. That was to my advantage, because I wasn't primed for the premise, alternating between the deductions of Detective Kaga and witness statements. It quickly becomes apparent who did it, fitting best into the why-dunnit class, and using my expectations as a mystery fan against me. Higashino does not idly use an author as one of the POV characters; his profession creates a surprise that taught me something about how writing works mechanically. Very cool.

Also a book about books: Sunyi Dean's The Book Eaters. My oldest friend and I both listened to this as the audiobook wonderfully read by Katie Erich, and we both complained that the interview in the bonus material killed a little of the mystery for us. Despite that, we loved the main character, Devon, and it's full of interesting ideas. It's about a group of families who eat information instead of food. It's about...fairy tales and it has a unique form of dragon and vampire myths and a slow-burn escape from Christian cults. It's about figuring out you're gay when you're already a parent. It's weird and fascinating and upsetting. I think Dean made very smart choices about when to reveal information through flashbacks, and I think Dean sometimes over-explains things to the reader in the narration that would have been stronger if I was left to interpret them myself. L and I both think we'd be interested in another Sunyi Dean book, but not a sequel to this one. It is a complete concept.

I feel that way about Shigidi and the Brass Head of Obalufon by Wole Talabi, too. This one is a fantasy heist with lots of backstory starring Shigidi, who is a kind of minor nightmare god, and Nnemoa, who is a kind of succubus. They have gone freelance, breaking from the corporation of Orisha and taking their own jobs through the living and spirit worlds. I particularly like Nnemoa's backstory chapters and the heist, but Aleister Crowley is involved for some reason and much less repulsive than in real life, and I was disappointed the heist is a pretty brief element. I'd like to read another Talabi book, though, and this was the first adult book I've read that features the orishas of the Yoruba religion which have been a welcome part of several recent YA fantasy books.

The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water is not the Zen Cho book I thought it was when I checked it out, but I'm glad to have read it. It's a wuxia novella about a nun and some bandits involved in rebellion, told with a lot of humor and thoughtfulness about the role of holy objects through the POV of a trans bandit with his own history with the nun's order. I love Cho's style!

That was a one-sitting project audiobook, as was a full-cast play recording of The Importance of Being Earnest. This is a sensational play that I had put off reading because I thought it had probably been overhyped. It hadn't. This is the source of a lot of Oscar Wilde's best quotes, and it's a jewel of drawing-room comedy and dialogue that operates on multiple levels of significance. I'm glad I happened to listen to actors doing it, which I wasn't expecting when I tapped on the first audiobook that came up.

More old books: I found an Agatha Christie mystery I didn't like! How sad! This was The Big Four, a series of spy short stories starring Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings, compiled together into a loose novel. The effect is somewhat disjointed, and not every story shows her ingenuity. It's full of 20th century political paranoia of conspiracies and spies, with anti-Asian racism and antisemitic tropes I can often count on Christie to avoid or subvert.

And Steppenwolf, by Herman Hesse, which is a very strange and influential work of literary fiction about a man who believes--not to minimize it by putting it this way--that he has a secret wolf-self inside him, much like certain middle schoolers of my acquaintance. The edition I listened to opens with a letter from Hesse in which he remarks that this book is frequently misunderstood, which I will admit put my back up. Maybe there's stuff in your book you didn't intend, Herman! I enjoyed its vagueness, I adored the complexity embodied by Harry Haller's friend/alter-ego/mother/girlfriend/boyfriend Hermine, and I got a lot out of reading literary analysis that gave me better context for the transmigration of souls and Jungian theory. It also suffers from didactic passages, racism and antisemitism, and dogmatism about artistic quality. Very worth reading, difficult to say whether I "liked" the book.

Carrying on with Dorothy Dunnett's Lymond books, I went straight from GK into Queens' Play, which I loved every moment of. It's easier to read than the first book, as she pulled back on stylized spellings and puzzling quotations, without losing any sparkle or punch. It's sooo fun. It's sooo distressing. Spies! Plots! Assassins! Disguises! Escapes! Messy bisexuals! I told my Lymond friends this book was funnier, but that feels like the wrong word for some of the things that happen in it. Giggling and kicking my feet and crying.

And a book I am very solidly neutral on: The City Beautiful by Aden Polydoros, full of vibrant personality and a great premise, but the plot gets in its own way in complexity and the pacing was a real struggle for my taste. The core cast is really strongly varied Jewish immigrant characters in Chicago in the 1890s, some teens have been murdered, there's a dybbuk, and gay kissing. I think I would have enjoyed it more when I was a teen; some YA takes me that way.