#mosaic house numbers

[paulbeige]

Brick in Houston Typical small red two-story brick building with a gable roof.

[macalaelliottphotography]

This is an illustration of a small, roof-extended Victorian front porch. An example of a small victorian front porch design with a roof extension.

[scottsmiles]

This is an illustration of a small, roof-extended Victorian front porch. An example of a small victorian front porch design with a roof extension.

[dontforgetukraine]

Ukrainian Art HIstory's Twitter Thread on Alla Horska

[On November 28th in 1970] Ukrainian artist and civil rights activist Alla Horska was killed by the KGB. She lived only for 40 years but did a lot for Ukrainian culture. A thread about her life and art. I would appreciate it if you share this amazing art.

Sketch of Mosaic Panel Work “Flag of Victory”

Alla came to her Ukrainianness at a mature age. She was born in Yalta in a Russian-speaking family. Her father worked in management positions at various film studios. Alla had no problems with admission to the art institute in Kyiv.

"Prypiat. Ferry", 1961

She was working in a social realism style, but everything changed after she with her husband Viktor Zaretsky spent some time in the Polissya region near Chornobyl. They saw true Ukrainian traditional art and were impressed.

Dance (1963)

In the 1960s ghostly feeling of freedom appears. Together with Vasyl Stus, Vasyl Symonenko, Ivan Svitlichny, and other dissidents, Horska organizes the Creative Youth Club in Kyiv. It becomes a place of the strength of real Ukrainian culture.

Boryviter

Sketch of a mural (1967)

Horska was also friends with Maria Prymachenko and was inspired by the works of Sobachko-Shostak. The influence of the latter can be seen in many sketches and monumental works of Alla Horska, such as "Boryviter" and "Tree of Life" in Mariupol.

"Shevchenko. Mother"

In 1964, Horska together with famous artists Opanas Zalyvakha, Lyudmyla Semykina, Halyna Zubchenko, and Halyna Sevruk created the stained glass window "Shevchenko. Mother". It was censured and was destroyed because the soviets were afraid of this image.

Mosaics from Donetsk

Together with Vasyl Symonenko, they searched for the burial places of those shot in Bykivnia by NKVD. Corresponded with those who were in the camps. Signed letters against unjust sentences. Hosted people who returned from the camps.

The Spirit of Alla Horska (1980) by Viktor Zaretsky

The Soviet authorities could not tolerate such a strong figure as Horska. On November 28, 1970, the artist and her father-in-law Ivan Zaretskyi were killed in their own house in Vasylkiv, near Kyiv.

The largest number of Horska mosaics in pre-war Ukraine were in the east - in particular, in Donetsk and Mariupol. Unfortunately, in Mariupol, the mosaics were almost destroyed by the Russian army. We will find out the real state of these monuments only after the victory.

I told her story at the Radio Culture in my program "Ukrainian Art in the Names". You can hear it here (in Ukrainian).

[blueiscoool]

Man Discovers 900-Year-Old Stone Carving Beneath His House in Germany

The rare picture stone may depict Otto of Bamberg, the bishop who helped spread Christianity throughout the region.

During a recent home renovation in Klotzow, Germany, a man stumbled upon something unexpected: a three-foot-long bildstein, or picture stone, dating to the 12th century.

The boulder features a carved figure draped in robes with a cross in front of his body. Experts think it may represent Otto of Bamberg, the bishop and missionary credited with spreading Christianity to the region. It’s also the only known picture stone to depict a figure with a cross.

Klotzow is a village located in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, a state in northern Germany. According to a statement from the state’s culture ministry, a resident named Peter Wittenberg discovered the stone while working on his home’s foundations. The large artifact was buried just a few centimeters below the surface.

Wittenberg, who knew he had found something special, reported his discovery to officials. Experts moved it to the city of Schwerin, where researchers could conduct a careful examination.

“The significance of this find cannot be overestimated,” says Detlef Jantzen, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern’s chief archaeologist, in the statement. “The new find from Klotzow is the only one that could depict a Christian dignitary. Now, we are going to try to learn more about the stone’s original location.”

Carved picture stones first appeared in the 4th century and were produced through the 12th century. They featured a rich variety of artistic styles, and many of them served as memorials to individuals who had died. According to the culture ministry, picture stones that reveal evidence of Christianization are especially rare.

Born in 1060, Otto of Bamberg dedicated his life to converting populations in an area known as Pomerania, located in parts of present-day Germany and Poland. According to some accounts, the number of people he baptized may be in the tens of thousands.

“With this exceptionally significant find, we can add another important piece to the mosaic of our country’s history,” says Bettina Martin, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern’s culture minister, in the statement. “Bishop Otto of Bamberg undertook his first missionary journey to Pomerania in 1124. The fact that a picture stone from this period has now been found exactly 900 years later is an extremely fortunate circumstance.”

There are only around 20 known picture stones in the region today, as Jantzen tells Live Science’s Laura Geggel. He thinks the figure’s shawl and cross could be a pallium, a religious cloth worn by the pope, archbishops and some bishops.

“Otto received the pallium from Pope Paschalis II,” Jantzen adds. “When Otto was traveling in Pomerania in 1124 and 1128, he was the first and only possible bearer of a pallium at that time in that area.”

Specialists in Schwerin are currently examining and documenting the stone artifact. When they’re done, officials hope to display it in Klotzow, where it was found.

“The finder deserves thanks and the highest recognition for reporting his discovery immediately,” says Martin in the statement. “The experts from the State Office for Culture and Monument Preservation and the local monument protection authority will now take care of securing and further examining this one-of-a-kind find.”

By Julia Binswanger.

[catsoupki]

逃脫不及的昔日 / something of the yesterday (bakugou x reader)

Summary: a person is a mosaic of everything else, when he runs into you on the street, it just feels like yesterday

Warnings: angst :) open-ish ending, i like to think they reunite

wc: 1.2k

katsuki stares at you from across the street, is that really you? the you from middle school? the you who always sat with him when people got tired of his mean and rough words? you look so different, not a bad different per se, just a melancholic different. he could see how you grew up, your curves have filled out, and your face slimmed down too, but some things never really change, like the way you’re holding flowers looks the exact same as when you held the books that your teachers gave you, the way your eyes glimpse over the sunlight peaking behind the skyscrapers looks identical to how you looked at the pigeons that landed outside the classroom windows, you look the same, but also so foreign that it makes his skin itch.

and he’s about to open his mouth— call out your name and run up to you and ask ‘how are you doing, loser?’, but he pauses, because he remembered just why you stopped talking in the first place.

the noise of crumbled cardboard pierces your eardrums, and you stare, crestfallen, but bakugou was too busy looking at the floor angrily to notice just how eerie it is to see that expression on your face. your mouth opens, sounds of incoherence tumble out and he laughs, because who do you think you are to confess to him?

‘stop following me around you quirkless freak! are you also fucked in the head? it’s been 2 years, just lay it off, god damn stupid chalk..’ his spit lands on your face as he flails around, he won’t know that expression on your face because he’s already turning around and leaving the classroom and slamming the door behind him. you never knew that you’d grow to cringe at that nickname. he started calling you chalk after he had teased you for stalking him, and so whenever you’d try and deny that accusation along with your lisp, he had turned to mocking your pronunciation instead. ‘what? loser can’t even pronounce the word stalk?’ but you’ve only ever felt adoration from that name, but things change.

the clacks of his shoes are loud in the tensed air, he won’t know just how much that stepped-on box of chocolate mattered to you until tomorrow, he won’t know just how much it killed you when he exploded your valentine’s day card without a second thought, because the day after that you didn’t wait for him at the school gate, you didn’t sit with him during lunch, you didn’t wave at him when he entered the classroom, you didn’t even look at him when he knocked into you on the hallway.

he didn’t think anything of it at first. he thought it was maybe a tantrum that would be forgotten after a few days, but that never happened. you continued ignoring him, and after a week, he tried to find you, to ask you ‘what the hell is your problem?’ but even your friends told him off, he couldn’t reach you, his number was blocked on your house phone, it was like you had disappeared from his life, a ghost he can see but never touch.

he never really understood why he felt so weird and sticky after you started ignoring him. you stopped interacting with him completely, the last thing you’ve ever said to him being ‘excuse me’ when he was blocking you from your seat during the graduation ceremony, but you had not met his eye, and for some months after that incident, he thought it was fear, and he had felt giddy, god damn stupidly fucking giddy that he finally got you off his tail, and he thought he should’ve felt that way. until he grew up, until he got into U.A. and saw how chubby cheeks would look at deku, how dunce face would sneak glances at ears, and how shitty hair would stare at raccoon eyes, and finally did he realise what he had lost.

but he’s bakugou katsuki, and he knows just how much being a hero meant that tomorrow, let alone the next second, will never be guaranteed in his line of profession. so he walks up to you, fixes his tousled hair left from his patrol, and heaves a determined breath before saying, ‘haven’t seen you in a long time, chalk.’

you’re jostled because you almost didn’t recognise him. with the way his voice has gone down a few octaves since, and also with the absence of curse words in his sentence, he’d grown, and he’s no longer the childish boy who’d laugh at the people who can’t get pass the monkey bars, he’s grown, you’ve seen him on television, and although certain parts of him will never change, his screams are the same, either that be to shitty deku, or to reporters to get the fuck out of my face before i blast you to pieces!

but you’re also not the same star-struck girl in middle school anymore.

‘please don’t call me that.’

the way you wrench out those syllables was painful. katsuki was a big and significant part of your childhood, and as much as you wanted to hate him and to leave him behind you, he was still that kid who protected you from the other bullies in the sandbox when you were seven.

so when you see the oh-so similar crestfallen face on him, you wanted to cry.

‘i know i never got the chance to apologise for that, i’m different now, i’m a hero and i- i got a therapist, i just wanted to, fuck! i don’t know, i wanted to try again,’ he’s shocked by himself, taken aback by how easily the words that he begged with rolled off his tongue like butter, and by how cold you seem to look.

he glances down, and he catches the lanyard around your neck. he sees the ‘Dr.’ before your name, so he can’t help the sense of pride he feels in his chest to know that you’ve become a doctor, your dream job from all those years ago.

he can’t blame you, not everyone is like izuku and so naively forgiving, so he’s desperate when he tries, ‘come on, i know i was an asshole, and i- i guess i still am, but please, i was so much of a boy back then, i know you, i really want be your friend again, your favourite animal was a tiger, your favourite colour was orange—‘

‘it’s black, now.’

in those three words, you’ve conveyed all that you needed to, and the way katsuki’s eyebrows shoot up, you know he feels mocked, pushed down, but you don’t care, you don’t care enough.

‘goodbye, ‘tsuki, if the timing was better next time, maybe i would’ve said yes.’

[lunaandco]

well, isn't it awkward?

pairing: pedri x ofc

summary: nuria befriends a pedri's mum at the bookstore. short after she rejects his offer of being friends with benefits, it becomes obvious that rosi is trying to set them up.

author's note: kind of funny how pedri's mum is lately having such big roles in my fics, but honestly that woman seems wonderful

masterlist // I do not take requests

Nuria had that one job every book nerd dreams about. She worked at a beautiful bookstore, full of wooden shelves and colourful special editions.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

The new client was a woman her mother's age. She was wearing a cozy looking jacket and was wandering around the store, seemingly looking for something.

"Oh, hi, yes. Do you have any cook books?"

"Yes, we have plenty!"

Nuria left the counter and led the woman to the right shelf, a mosaic of books about gastronomy and food waiting for them.

"We have traditional, avant-garde, by country..." As Nuria started explaining, the woman's eyes lit up. Before she noticed, they were having a full blown discussion about what kind of books were more practical to have in the kitchen, about the photography and elaboration, the prices...

Nuria hadn't had so much fun in a long time.

By the time the woman, Rosi, had to leave, she had a phone number scribbled in her notes and a promise to meet for coffee.

💙❤️

"I have a new friend," Nuria thought as she left the coffee shop a few hours later that day. Conversation with Rosi had been fluid and fun. The generational difference was proven not be a problem at all. "I like her a lot."

💙❤️

It took six months for Rosi to invite Nuria for dinner at her house. She was making one of the recipes in the cook book she bought the first time they met and Nuria couldn't help but be excited about meeting her husband and one of her sons.

"I'll send my oldest, Fer, to pick you up."

"There is no need, I can take the bus..."

"Nonsense. My boy will be there."

Fer is skinny and kind of handsome. Nuria could see the vague resemblance with his mother as he drove her through the streets of Barcelona. He had the same Canarian accent that made Rosi's voice so soothing.

"So... you're mami's friend, huh?"

"Yeah... I know it can be a little bit awkward, since I'm younger than you..."

"How old are you actually?"

"Twenty."

"Damn, you're a baby." He snorted. "Even my brother is older than you."

Nuria smiled at the comment. Rosi spoke quite vaguely of her younger son. The only things Nuria knew was that his name was Pedri, he was twenty two, and worked with a football team. Nuria hadn't pressed about it too much, scared that Rosi would back off their friendship if she asked too many questions.

💙❤️

The house was bigger than expected. Nuria knew Rosi had money, but she had not thought it was enough to own such a big house. Rosi welcomed her with a big smile introducing her to her husband. The man looked like a textbook father and was just as warm and friendly as his wife.

"Pedri is not here yet," explained Rosi. "Work is running late, again." She seemed a bit embarrassed that the guest had arrived earlier than her son.

"Ah, it's alright, I leave late from work almost everyday..."

The front door opened and a boy that looked like Rosi's clone appeared in the living. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was Pedri, the youngest son. Nuria is surprised to realise he's kind of handsome, when she had thought about him previously she never thought of picturing him in an appealing way. He was just Rosi's son after all.

The assessment was mutual, because she could see the way his eyes checked her out going as far as to stop for a second on her chest.

Boys.

"What's up?" He greeted her with a quick hug.

They sit for dinner and it took very little time for Nuria to stop feeling like an intruder. The family was tightly knit and it was obvious Rosi's warmth and kindness had rubbed on on everyone.

💙❤️

By the time it was time for Nuria to go back home, the brothers had a hushed argument about who would drive her, which ended being won by Pedri, who grabbed they keys with a triumphant smirk.

Fer rolled his eyes, going back to the kitchen after muttering a quick "don't do anything stupid."

Nuria hugged Rosi goodnight one more time, and followed Pedri outside, where his car was parked. It was expensive and big, another sign of the family being ridiculously well off, but Nuria didn't comment on it.

She sat in the passenger side tightly, trying not to touch anything that could get dirty or be broken. The last thing she wanted to be was a nuisance.

"So you're friends with mami now..."

"Been for a few months. I met her at work."

"Yes, the bookstore girl, I heard the story." Nuria couldn't help but feel that she was about to get the shovel talk from her best friend's son.

"That's me..."

"Did you know I was her son?"

The question caught Nuria off guard.

"What?"

Pedri tsked.

"Did you know I was her son?" He repeated. She's definitely about to get shovel talked. Why, she wasn't sure.

"No? Should I? Why?" She stammered. How could she know that he was Rosi's son? She didn't even know what he looked like until a few hours earlier. Pedri snorted.

"Oh, my God, she wasn't lying. You really don't know."

"Know what?" she snapped crossing her arms over her chest. Nuria did not like being kept in the dark.

"Google me," he told her, as he veered the car to take the street to their right. Nuria obeyed and she was met with a sea if red and blue. Well, that explained quite a lot.

"And here I thought you played in the Sunday league," she snarked quietly. Pedri snorted.

"When was the last time you watched a football match?"

"The Euro final," she replied. Pedri opened his mouth to replicate, but she continued. "From 2012."

"Jesus fucking Christ," he breathed. "How did you manage?"

"My father died. Football doesn't make any sense without him."

"I'm sorry." Pedri said quietly.

💙❤️

"You're telling me that not only did Xavi retire, he was your coach?" Nuria knew her face must be a poem, but as Pedri caught her up on some of the important football news, she could not help being surprised.

"At least tell me that Messi is still there..."

"He's in Miami."

"What the fuck is he doing in Miami?"

Pedri laughed. They were sitting in the parked car in front of her building, neither of them wanting to say goodbye just yet.

"If Messi is gone, then who is your goalscorer?"

"Lewandowski. And a random seventeen year old from the academy."

Nuria stared at him for two seconds.

"Wasn't that guy in Dortmund?"

Pedri burst out laughing even harder.

💙❤️

Finally, Pedri walked with her to the door, saying that his mother would not forgive him if something happened to her on his watch. Nuria had snorted but allowed it, searching for her keys in the pocket of her jeans.

She opened the door and turned to say goodbye to Pedri, but found that he was way closer than she thought. His hands found her hips. It looked like they had just gotten back form a date night.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Would you like to..."

The proposition was simple. Pedri was clear in the way someone who had done this before would be: he wanted them to become friends with benefits, no strings attached, no exclusivity, just fun.

Nuria considered it for a split of a second. Pedri's face was beautiful and too close to hers. His gaze was dark, his lips promising, the arms around her strong. He smelt good, like safety and deodorant.

If she allowed him to even kiss her, she would fall in love with him.

And he would break her heart.

Nuria pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him away.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I value my friendship with your mother more than whatever attraction I might feel for you."

She would not let any man get between a friendship of hers, never again.

And with that Nuria slipped through the door, leaving Pedri to watch her disappear with his lips parted, his cheeks pink and a growing feeling on his chest.

💙❤️

It seemed like Pedri never told his mother of that incident and Nuria was not going to be the one to bring it up. Rosi only laughed at the fact that Nuria hadn't been able to clock Pedri's job as a professional footballer, but was understanding once she learned the reason.

Nuria had loved football when she was a little girl, playing in the backyard with her father and in the small girl's club in her town, until he died when she was ten, little after the 2012 Eurocup. She never touched a ball after, never watched a game.

Her little jerseys and her father's were buried in a box under her bed, collecting dust. She had been extremely aware of it the night Pedri took her home, the ghost of his hands on her hips and her heart still racing.

💙❤️

It was a matter of time until Rosi invited her to watch a game. When Nuria was a little girl, her dad always promised he woukd take her to Camp Nou one day, but he was never able to do so.

Getting ready, Nuria finally pushed the angst away and opened the box beneath her bed. Papi's clothes were still there, the 2010-11 season Iniesta jersey looking up at her. Nuria put it on, it was still big on her, her father had been a tall man, but she decided to wear it still.

When she rushed out, to find Rosi waiting for her in her car, she was confident in her look. She was taking a part of her dad to Camp Nou.

💙❤️

The game was a bloodbath. It was a team fighting relegation, and Barça did not forgive. Specially Pedri. he was everywhere in midfield, dancing between the rivals, ripping through their pressure and assisting two of the six goals scored that day.

Through half the match, Nuria found herself holding Rosi's hands, trying to clear her vision from the tears.

"He's beautiful," she told her. "Pedri... he's... I've never seen something like this."

Rosi squeezed her hand, and gave her a tender kiss to her temple.

💙❤️

"Bueno, bueno, bueno," Ferran spoke loudly among the celebrations in the locker room. "When was Pedrito here going to tell us he had a girlfriend?"

"What?" Pedri said. He didn't know he had a girlfriend either. But that didn't stop his teammates fro. screeching and focusing all their attention on him.

"Hostia, Pedri, you need to tell us!"

"Is she hot?"

"Is she famous?"

"Since when?"

"What are you talking about? I don't have a girl," he insisted.

"Bullshit!" Called Ferran. "Then who is the pretty girl with your mum?"

Pedri sighed. Well, he fucking wished she was shis girlfriend, but he was not telling that to the pack of hungry hyenas in the locker room.

"That is Nuria. She's friends with my mami."

💙❤️

Pedri met them on the pitch after showering. His cheeks were pink from thee exertion and Nuria had to fold her hands together to avoid pinching them.

He hugged Rosi with a smile on his lips, and repeated the action with Nuria, adding a small kiss to her cheek.

"Did you like the game?" He asked. Nuria nodded silently.

"He would have loved you," she whispered, and by Pedri's expression, she could tell he knew she meant her father.

💙❤️

"Mami, where is the other blanket?" Asked Pedri, returning to the living room with the bowl of pop corn.

"In the washing machine," replied Rosi. "You'll have to share with Nuria."

The family plus Nuria had gotten together to watch a movie, Fer on the single sofa, Rosi and her husband on one corner of the large couch and Nuria on the other. Pddri shrugged, and slipped under the blanket Nuria had picked.

Soon it was made obvious they would have to be practically glued together to keep the blanket on tip of them.

"I thought I hald already cleane—" Rosi pinched her husband into silence.

💙❤️

"C'mon, Fer. One more!"

"No, I'm tired," Fer complained. He did not have his brother's stamina, and it got annoying when he got exhausted but Pedri was still buzzing with excitement.

They had set up a couple of knee height goals and were playing a 1v1 in the garden.

"Nuria used to play. Maybe she can sub you in," joked Rosi from the flower bushes she was tending to, teaching Nuria how to chose what flowers to pick.

Nuria looked at her panicked. She did indeed used to play, but she was always kind of bad. She was nowhere near good enough to play against Pedri and keep him entertained.

"Really?" Pedri's eyebrows rose, and he threw a pass at her. Nuria's first touch was smooth, controlling the ball with his thigh, trying to avoid the shyness of doing it in front of a literal professional.

"Are fucking with me?" Fer seemed delighted. "Thank you, girl, you just freed me from this maniac!"

Fer ran inside the house and Nuria passed the ball back to Pedri. It wasn't as precise, but he controlled it seamlessly.

"C'mon, play with me, please..."

"Alright."

💙❤️

"She's trying to set us up," announced Pedri when they got together on the car. "There is no way she's not doing this on purpose," he said referring to the driving arrangement.

Nuria agreed. Rosi always found a reason for Pedri and her to be paired up together, to have something to do in tandem. There wad no way Fer would drive Nuria back home anymore, it was solely Pedri's task now.

Nuria insisted doing the dishes? Pedri go help her. Nuria had bought a new IKEA shelf? Pedri go help her build it. Nuria returned late from the shift at the bookstore? Pedri go walk home with her, just in case.

It would be less painful if Nuria hadn't realised that, indeed, even if she had kept Pedri at an arm's length since the proposal, at some point down the line she had fallen for him.

"I'm sorry," Pedri said then. "I know this might make you uncomfortable... since I..."

"No, it's okay. I..." Nuria decided to shoot her shot. "I wouldn't mind it..."

"You wouldn't? But you rejected me because you didn't want to put your friendship in an awkward situation..."

"It would have been awkward if we had been fucking, no strings attached, and I developed a ridiculously pathetic crush on you. I would have gotten my heart broken," she explained. "But if it's and actual relationship... I think we can make it work."

"Really?" Pedri sounded excited. "You would date me?"

"Yeah."

Pedri raised his hand to cup her cheek.

"So if I kissed you... you would not be against it?"

"I would be against you not kissing me, actually?" grinned Nuria, as Pedri joined their lips.

From the window of the house, Rosi smiled.

[jilyawards]

The Jily Fandom Rec List 2024 is a compilation of Jily stories our readers want to keep an eye on for this year's awards.

AUGUST

A Matter of Fairness (completed, 3.9k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated E.

James' Quidditch match is derailed by a very distracting Head Girl.

stitch the wound (completed, 15.7k) by @loverscrossmp3. Rated T.

moments on a battlefield and in a home. there are only so many things you can do when in hiding before you begin remembering.

101 Padfoots (completed, 4k) by @tedwardremus. Rated G.

An accident in potions class results in 101 Padfoots running around Hogwarts while Lily and James work together to round them all up

swimming through sick lullabies (completed, 4.7k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“So, I’ve got a question,” James says, leaning forward slightly. Lily nods without looking at him, busying herself with wiping the puddle of water from the condensation of the glass. “If you were meeting Kallus for a date, why’d you bring a book?” She looks up sharply, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “What?” He smirks, letting his eyes flicker down toward the book in emphasis. “Were you anticipating a rubbish date?”

the dance of mischief and duty (completed, 3.5k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

Lily Evans is an infuriating mosaic of traits—beautiful and she knows it, captain of the House Quidditch team, and the loudest voice in nearly any room. She has this way of floating through the school, her laughter ringing out as she moves between corridors and classes, one arm usually slung around Sirius Black’s shoulder and the other gesticulating wildly as she spins tales of misadventure. But she also sort of has a point, and that’s possibly the most infuriating part about her.

the road to reunification is not so smooth (WIP, 10.2k as of 31 August 2024) by wisterial. Rated T.

Other than her persistent guilt and loneliness, Lily Evans is doing perfectly okay. That is, until her friends give her phone number to James Potter, an old schoolmate she would very much like to avoid. If that wasn't enough of a problem, Lily meets a boy in the local library, who appears just as lonely as her, and she begins to realize that he may be the son she gave up for adoption eight years ago. Or: The story of how Lily, James, and Harry reunite, and eventually learn how to be a family (with the help of time, their friends, and a lot of ice cream).

bad day wall (WIP, 14.8k as of 31 August 2024) by apalapucian. Rated M.

lily calls it the bad day wall. it's like this weird communal one-liner diary thing. every time i think i'm over her something happens and it hits me just as stupidly intense as all the other times. i'm SICK of it why can't people just LIKE by default the people they LOVE? why do they have to be separate feelings? it would make things so much less complicated or: in sixth year, lily starts talking to a stranger(?) through messages on a wall. she also befriends james potter. these two things are completely not related.

Guilty as Sin (WIP, 56.7k as of 31 August 2024) by ohevans. Rated E.

This is not sustainable. He cannot keep being so god damn perfect or it’s going to ruin her. It sort of already has, really. Lily Evans is a practical young woman, and having sex dreams about one’s best friend that leave one waking up hot and bothered at 3:32 in the morning is decidedly impractical. Especially when said friend—self-proclaimed early bird—started Mamma Mia! together over facetime at half-past eleven solely because she said she couldn’t sleep, even though he likes to get up early and go on long runs before work. And then she went and fell asleep mid-lyric to Dancing Queen and he sent her a string of text messages and stayed awake long enough to finish the movie, all the while she was passed out on the couch dreaming of his face between her thighs. Again. For the third night in a row. (It would be the eighth, but there was one night she had a stress dream about missing her Eighteenth Century Women’s Lit exam.) This is not sustainable.

Check out the previous months' recs too: January, February, March || April || May || June || July

And don't forget to check out the Jily Week 2024 masterlist!

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ𓆝 𓆡⋆Seaweed Ribbons𓆝 𓆡⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: fluff :) pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: pirate billy x mermaid reader author’s note: based on my love @francixoxoxo 's pirate billy au- leaving the tag below. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

It was always the details of you that Billy noticed, the pieces swirling into your mosaic. He could practically see you on the cover of a storybook, a thick volume about a mermaid who fell in love with a human like a tragic fairy tale. Only Billy would seize the pen before it could even deign to write you an ending that was anything short of magical.

Your laugh rang like the brass bell shelled in the brick-and-mortar church at the center of the town square, a heavenly sound. While Billy had never been a particularly religious man, he found God with you. Over and over again, enough to make him into a believer. Every touch of your skin was a miracle, not suited for the likes of him. Pirates were superstitious, but hardly ever in a good way.

He hated that he was counted among their numbers- ruthless, reckless men roughened by a life of dishonesty. And yet, it was the only thing he knew how to do. Billy supposed he could have made a life as a sailor, but he knew at this point no man would hire him for such work. The grimace that came along with the name piracy gifted to him was the worst thing in the world, second only to any notion of losing you

You didn't seem to care about any of it, promising Billy that he was a good man, good as they come. Many a night he spent nearly buried in the sand with you sitting contently across his thighs, tail flickering lazily like the flame of a candle as you hugged him around the neck, pressing gentle kisses there.

He fingered your necklace, crafted from delicate seashells shiny as sunbeams on water. You made all your own jewelry, he knew, and he adored it just like he adored everything about you. Every new thing he learned only advanced your beauty, just when he wasn't sure his heart could take any more.

Billy let his hand settle on your lower back, drawing infinities into your skin warmed from the sun. The first time you'd come onto land with him he'd been worried you'd dry out, wither away like a leaf in the fall. There had to be some catch to this. Some catch to a man like him getting to hold a woman like you. But here you were, sand coating your drying tail like a second skin for the hundredth time since the first, head on his chest, fingers skirting the neckline of his shirt.

He always found himself playing with your hair, as long and silky as it was. You always did something pretty with it, whether it be a clasp of pearls or an intricate braid he couldn't wrap his head around. Today it was half tied back on each side with seaweed ribbons of emerald green, the tails lost in your strands.

You propped your chin up on his chest, letting your cheek lean to the side. One of your hands came up to trace along his stubbly jaw, a ring with a single pearl like a teardrop circled around one finger. He watched you fascinatedly like always, tangled in your net with no hope or want of escaping.

"I wish you could come down with me," you murmured, ringed finger finding the slope of his nose and drawing a line up and down. "I want to show you so many things."

He tilted his chin up, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "Me too, angel."

The pet name never failed to get a smile out of you, and he watched joyfully as it lightened you like a sunburst. "It's so beautiful, Billy. I love it, and I want you to love it too."

"If you love it, I would," Billy promised, sitting up and holding you firmly by the waist so you wouldn't shift off of him with the motion.

You moved so you were sitting sideways between his spread legs, snuggling into his chest. "What do you love about the surface? I think I've told you everything I love about the water."

He hummed, getting lost in thoughts like a tangled ball of yarn. Billy never got tired of hearing about what you loved. You had such a wide-eyed, beautiful vision of the world, one that he could only wish to imitate. He wished he was a more eloquent man so he could pick out the things of the surface he thought you'd like and craft them into poetry only fit for your eyes.

"I..." his mind went blank. Billy was hardly capable of a thought that didn't pertain to how beautiful you were in your presence. "I like the stars, I s'pose. And flowers."

Your eyes brightened, and he felt a prick of pride for having said something that made them that way. "I like those too."

"Yeah?" Billy would pick every flower that sprouted from the earth, lasso each star and haul them from the sky to lay at your tail if it would make you smile. "I'll bring you some flowers next time, pretty."

"Really?" You reached up, kissing his cheek. Your lips left a burning spot, and he melted. You were a treasure no X on a map could ever amount to.

"'Course, baby." Billy stroked your back, an ocean of softened skin smoothed by saltwater. "It's only right a man does that for his sweetheart."

You giggled in delight, a babbling brook. "I want to bring you something pretty too."

"You bring yourself, don'tcha?"

"Billy."

He chuckled, lips finding your hair. A human would have to swallow stardust to glow as bright as you. "You're my girl. Ain't nothin' better than seein' my girl."

You gave him a fond look, wiggling a little in his arms. "I want to show you my treasures."

"Oh, baby I'd be honored to see your treasures." Billy reached up, catching your lips in a gentle kiss. You existed in a world of beautiful things, just how you deserved.

In words you'd described to him of the splendor of the sea, the way merpeople valued all that was good and lovely. Intricate carvings of pearl depicting wars of history, victory abound. Insides of clamshells ranging from the size of the palm of your hand to entire walls painted with artist's depictions of royalty. Seemingly ordinary rocks split down the middle, revealing crystallite insides. He couldn't have dreamt it up.

But as far as he was concerned, you were the most ethereal thing created by the world of mermaids.

You were pleased by his answer, rewarding him with warm kisses peppered to his cheeks. Billy could have sworn there was sugar rather than blood on your insides, given how cripplingly sweet you were.

He'd succumb to your spell every time.

Had Billy searched the catacombs of the earth like a man possessed, he never would have found what you were showing him right now.

To say he'd been surprised when you had announced you were taking him to your treasure grove had been an understatement. But the next thing he knew, he was holding onto you as you swam, head above water, faster than he knew was physically possible.

An island had been your destination, one swallowed by the sea, nearly. The greenery was lush and full, but you led him to the gaping mouth of a cavern, studded with crystals of every fathomable color. He'd been in awe, convinced your treasures were a place. But deeper into the hallowed halls of your special spot, he saw the reason you'd brought him.

It was very nearly a temple, held by columns of stone crawling with moss, the sea kissing the base a shallow pool with water lilies floating leisurely. Billy's eyes widened as he took it in. It was a relic, a forgotten wonder of the world. And you had found it, of course you'd found it.

Vines twirled the arches like a strand of hair around a finger, light seeping in through the cracks of the ceiling. The walls were lightened with faded color, the salt air chipping away at paint. He turned to you, heaving himself out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool. His shirt and pants were clinging to him, boots abandoned at shore. "What is this place?"

"It's my treasure chest," you said simply, arms folded on his knees, chin atop. "Nobody know about it, really. So I keep the things I find in here."

"The things you find?" Upon his question, you turned your head to the side, and he followed your gaze.

There, on the edge of the cavern, a collection of items laid lined up like soldiers on the stony surface. He shuffled over to examine them closely. Your collection ranged from chipped teacups to strings of pearls. There were shells of an inexhaustible variety, starfish and scales all scattered in the mix. But what struck him was the sheer amount of human things.

Pale figurines of nude women, an intricate silver hand mirror. A tube of lipstick, the lid missing, a bottle of perfume likely only filled with ocean now. A brooch the color of the sky on a sunny day, a silhouette stone faced depicted. There was a book with stiff looking pages at the center of it all, embossed with gold in a language Billy didn't know.

He turned to you, awe clouding his senses. "You found all of this?"

A shy little smile crept up your lips. "My treasures."

"Angel." Billy reached down, lifting you under your arms to come sit on his lap, the fins of your tail dipping into the water still. He pressed three kisses to your face; your cheek, nose, and mouth. You were too good for this world, too bright and glimmering for anyone to deserve.

Today your hair was loose, miniscule braids interwoven between strands. It wasn't uncommon for him to find broken pieces of seashell tangled in between, and even in the muted light of the cavern, they shone like bits of sunshine, the light catching them just right. Billy tucked your hair behind your ear, catching the pearls hanging from them, dripping with ocean. "It's beautiful. You're a sweetheart for showin' me."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, breasts flattening against his chest. "You like it?"

"It's like you're showin' me a piece of your heart," he said, relishing in the sparkle of your eyes. He shifted to the side, facing your collection again. "Will you tell me 'bout 'em?"

Billy could practically feel the excitement bubbling up inside you as you began to explain the origins of each find, voice a melody in his ear. He listened, savoring every detail to imprint on his memory. If his identity became a man in love with you, he'd die happier than most.

Your love enchanted him, consumed him like the impossibly high waves of a typhoon, swirling and tossing him back and forth against the walls of your heart. He was drowning in it all, engulfed in every salty wave that pulled him under.

Only here he would never come up for air.

[magiciansfanworksextravaganza]

Welcome Home!

Magicians Fanworks Event, Jan. 27-Mar. 9, 2025

Welcome Home!

We’re welcoming fanworks of all types celebrating The Magicians (Lev Grossman/SyFy). This low-key challenge focuses on a series of weekly entries, open to both new works and additional chapters to existing WIPs, from Jan. 27-Mar. 9, 2025, Eastern time.

The overall theme for the entire event is Welcome Home!

If you would like to create something for the general “Welcome Home!” theme, these are welcome anytime while the event is open, from Jan. 27-Mar. 9!

In addition, here are the weekly themes. If you miss your week, you’ve got a second chance during Week 6, our Free Space/Catch-Up week!

Want to continue an existing WIP but it doesn’t match any of our themes? Send it during Week 6!

All types of fanworks are welcome! Yes, yes, yes to fic, art, edits, vids, cosplay, crafting, podfic, fanmixes, pinboards, moodboards, and more! Any number of submissions you like. You can even send us multiple chapters of the same work as separate entries, for different themes or the same theme! Please let us know which theme you chose, and make sure your work either:

1. Fits the overall event theme (send anytime Jan. 27-Mar. 9), or:

2. Fits a specific week’s theme (send during that week, or in Week 6)

Exception: New additions to existing WIPs that don’t match a themeare welcome in Week 6.

WEEK 1: Jan. 27-Feb. 2, Home—What constitutes “home” to the characters? What do they think of “home,” good or bad?

WEEK 2: Feb. 3-9, "It's been a long time"—It could be a long time since characters saw each other, or a long time engaged on a task like the mosaic. Special note: The 7th anniversary of The Magicians 3x05, “A Life in the Day,” is Feb. 7. We’d love to see Mosaic Fic.

WEEK 3: Feb. 10-16, Seasonal/holiday—Whether or not it’s the current season/holiday right now (any are welcome). This could include “vibes” or “ambiance” for the readers to enjoy in connection with a particular holiday (haunted house for Halloween; romance for Valentine’s Day—which falls this week). If the season or holiday is not specifically referenced in the content, please let us know which one it is.

WEEK 4: Feb. 17-23, Magical creature—A being from the show or books, or from mythology/folklore, or one you make up.

WEEK 5: Feb. 24-Mar. 2, Returning after absence (or returning to being themselves).

WEEK 6: Mar. 3-9, Free space/catch-up week! If you are catching up for a prior week, please let us know which one. If you’re adding to an existing WIP that doesn’t match any theme, it belongs here.

Remember—any works for the general “Welcome Home” theme may be sent any time the event is open, from Jan. 27-Mar. 9. However, please let us know if you are following the overall event theme rather than that week’s theme.

The last day for challenge entries on Tumblr and/or AO3 will be March 9 at 11:59 PM Eastern.

Please stay tuned for more details! And in the meantime, please enjoy the wonderful works created for our micro Magicians challenge, Warm Up!

[whatisthisdrea]

Open your mouth and speak|Poly!20squad|

S.W.A.T x oc

I noticed that there is barely any poly! 20squad book, so why not write my own. Please feel free to message me if you have any requests.

Also please enjoy, and tell me what you think.

The neon lights of the city painted the pavement with a rainbow of shadows as the group of friends laughed their way down the crowded street. Music spilled from the bars and clubs, a mishmash of beats and voices that filled the air with an electric pulse. Jenny's heart raced with excitement, her eyes sparkling with the promise of a night to remember.

"Guys, let's go to the rooftop!" she exclaimed, tugging her friends along by the arms. They stumbled into an elevator, the laughter bouncing off the metal walls. The doors slid open to reveal a hidden gem of a bar, the city's lights glittering like a sea of diamonds before them. The cool breeze whispered sweet nothings into their ears, carrying the faint scent of distant oceans.

Jenny felt a buzz of excitement as they stepped out into the open space. The city looked so different from up here; the usual chaos muted into a serene mosaic of lights and shadows. Her friends gathered around a table, the conversation a delightful tapestry of giggles and gossip. The bartender slid over a round of drinks, the clinking of ice a soothing rhythm beneath the throb of the music.

But as the night grew later and the drinks stronger, Jenny's thoughts began to drift. She pulled her phone from her clutch, the screen lighting up like a beacon in the dark. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the string of unanswered messages from her lover, the unread count growing like a number on a broken slot machine. The texts grew more frantic, more pleading. "Baby, where are you? The guys are worried." Her fingers hovered over the screen, the urge to respond warring with the thrill of her newfound freedom.

The chill of the night air couldn't dampen the warmth of the whiskey as it slid down her throat. She looked around at her friends, their faces a blur of happiness and carelessness. How could they not see her slipping away? The weight of their indifference pressed down on her, a heavy blanket that smothered her voice. She'd been with Hondo, Deacon, Street, Chris, Tan, and Luca for three years—a secret garden of love that no one else could understand. But now it felt like a cage, the bars of their busy lives keeping her in, keeping her from living.

Her thumb hovered over the phone screen, the blue light casting a ghostly pallor on her cheeks. Each message was a shout from the void, a desperate attempt to reconnect with the people she'd chosen to let in. Yet here she was, feeling ignored and unwanted despite having so many lovers. It wasn't supposed to be this way. They were supposed to be a team, a family. But she was the one always left behind, the one they forgot to check on when the missions called or life took them away.

The whiskey burned a path down her throat, warming her from the inside out. Jenny knew better than to react like this. They were pretty overprotective of her, especially Hondo. He was the worst. So strict with her safety that it often felt like she was a precious china doll, too fragile to be allowed out of the house. But she was tired of being coddled and of being the one they had to keep safe.

"Hey, girl, are you ready to go?" Rachel's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Rachel's eyes were bright with excitement; her cheeks flushed from the cold and the drinks. She leaned over the table, her breath smelling faintly of mint and whiskey.

Jenny's hand tightened around her phone. "Actually, I think I'm going to crash at your place tonight," she said, her voice shakier than she intended. Rachel raised an eyebrow, surprise flickering across her features.

"What's up with you?" Rachel asked, her voice cutting through the din of the bar. "You okay?"

Jenny forced a smile, her heart racing. "Yeah, I just... I don't know. I think I've had a bit too much." She held up her nearly empty glass as if it were evidence of her overindulgence. "You know my pace is on the other side of town; I don't feel safe driving all the way back." It was a lame excuse, but Rachel seemed to buy it. The truth was, she didn't want to go home to face the music or to deal with the fallout of her night out.

The walk to Rachel's apartment was a blur of streetlights and the occasional distant siren. Jenny's mind swam with the weight of the unanswered calls and messages. She knew Hondo would be furious, his voice a thunderstorm of worry and accusations. Deacon would be disappointed, his silent treatment a knife that twisted in her gut. And the others? Well, she couldn't even guess what they'd say.

Morning sunlight peeked through Rachel's blinds when Jenny finally opened her eyes, a harsh reminder of the time she'd wasted. It was already 10 AM, and she had to be at work in an hour. Rachel's apartment smelled faintly of stale beer and takeout, a stark contrast to the crisp scent of the night before. The headache was a merciless drummer, pounding out a relentless rhythm in her skull.

Her stomach churned as she rolled out of bed, the reality of the situation crashing down like a hangover-induced wave. She was an assistant for Hicks, Hondo's boss, and she'd spent the night out partying instead of keeping her head down and staying safe. She'd never been good at following rules, especially not Hondo's. The thought of facing them today made her palms sweat.

"Hey girl, I got some outfits for you to wear," Rachel called from the other room. "I know you've got work in like an hour." Rachel emerged with a grin, arms laden with clothes. The sight of Rachel's kindness brought a fresh wave of guilt. Rachel had always been the wild one, the friend who knew how to have fun without the burden of a secret life weighing her down. Rachel didn't know about the missions, the late nights, or the danger that was a constant shadow in Jenny's life. Rachel knew her as just Jenny, not as the girl who had to be protected at all costs.

Jenny took the offered outfit with a grateful smile, trying not to let her thoughts show. "Thanks, Rach," she murmured, disappearing into the bathroom to change. The shower was a brief reprieve from her troubles, the water washing away the stickiness of the night. As she dressed, the fabric of Rachel's clothes clung to her like a second skin, a costume to play the part of a carefree woman without a secret in the world. She applied her makeup with shaky hands, the reflection in the mirror not quite matching the person she saw in her mind's eye.

The outfit did indeed show off all her curves, the tight dress hugging her in all the right places. She twisted this way and that, checking herself over. It was a stark contrast to the sensible pants and blouses she usually wore to work, but somehow it made her feel alive, like she had something to prove. With a deep breath, she stepped out of the bathroom, feeling Rachel's eyes on her. Rachel's mouth dropped open in shock, followed by a squeal of delight.

"Girl, you look hotter than a jalapeño in a sauna!" Rachel exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "You're going to turn heads at work!"

Jenny rolled her eyes, a genuine smile tugging at her lips despite the impending dread of facing her lovers. "Thanks, Rach. I'll be sure to keep it professional."

The outfit did indeed show off all her curves, the dress a daring dance of fabric that clung to her like a second skin. She took one last look in the mirror, the stranger in the reflection giving her a nod of approval. With a deep breath, she hugged Rachel goodbye, the warmth of her friend's embrace giving her a semblance of strength. The door clicked shut behind her, and she was alone in the hallway, the cocoon of Rachel's apartment no longer shielding her from reality.

The city streets were bustling with life as she descended the stairs, the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods from the nearby bakery teasing her senses. The heels of her boots clicked against the sidewalk with a confidence she didn't quite feel, but she pushed onward, her mind racing with the potential conversations she'd have to navigate at work. The wind played with her hair, the cool air kissing her cheeks as she walked. She felt the eyes of passersby on her, and for a brief moment, she reveled in the anonymity of being just another woman heading to work on a Friday morning.

Her phone buzzed again in her pocket, a silent reminder of the unanswered messages. She pulled it out and stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the call button. The digital clock at the corner of her screen taunted her, each second that ticked by a countdown to the inevitable. She had to tell them. They had to know she was okay. With a sigh, she swiped to answer and held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" Hondo's voice was tight, the worry clear even over the phone line. "Hi," Jenny said softly, the weight of the night's events heavy on her chest. "I'm okay. I just needed some... space."

The silence that followed was deafening, the city's noise a stark contrast to the quiet in her ear. "Space?" he repeated, his tone a mix of confusion and anger. "What does that even mean, Jenny?" "I went out with Rachel," she said, her voice a whisper. "I just needed to... have some fun. You guys are always so busy, I thought you wouldn't even notice."

Hondo's sigh was a hurricane through the phone. "We're worried about you, that's all. You know we care." Jenny bit her lip, the guilt weighing her down. "I know. I'm sorry. I just... felt like I was losing myself in all of this." "Look," he said, his voice softer, "we're here for you. You're important to us. We need to talk about this."

Her stomach twisted into a pretzel at the thought of their conversation. "Everyone's on edge right now, and pretty pissed off, so be prepared."

The drive to work was a blur of traffic lights and honking horns, her thoughts racing faster than the cars around her. She parked in her usual spot, her hands shaking as she turned off the engine. The sun's glare through the windshield made her eyes water, as if it knew she had something to hide. She took a deep breath, the leather of the seat cool against her back. With a determined nod to herself, she stepped out into the bustling parking lot.

The moment she walked through the glass doors of the office, the cool air of Hicks's displeasure was palpable. His voice boomed down the hallway. "Jenny, I've been waiting for you! I need those files printed out, stat!" She quickened her pace, the click of her heels echoing off the marble floor. She didn't dare look around, knowing that the eyes of her colleagues were on her, whispering about her late arrival.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she reached her desk, the stack of files waiting like an accusation. She logged into her computer, her fingers fumbling over the keyboard. The screen was a blur of words and numbers, each one a reminder of the world she was hiding from her lovers. With a deep breath, she started the printer and watched as the pages began to spit out, one by one.

Suddenly, she felt eyes on her again. "Darling," she heard Luca's voice, and she turned around to find herself enveloped in his arms. He hugged her tightly, his embrace warm and comforting despite the chilly office air. She leaned into him, the scent of his cologne familiar and grounding. He kissed the top of her head, his voice a gentle rumble in her ear. "Baby, you had us scared. Where were you?"

Jenny's body went rigid, the weight of his concern heavy on her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, her voice muffled against his chest. "I just needed some time."

Luca's arms tightened around her, his warmth a stark contrast to the chilly office air. "You know we'd drop everything for you, right?" He whispered, his breath tickling her ear. "You don't need to sneak around like this."

Jenny pulled back, a flicker of irritation crossing her features. "I wasn't sneaking around," she said, looking down at her desk. She felt his hand under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. His eyes searched hers, a blend of worry and love.

"You didn't tell us where you were going, baby," Luca said, his voice a gentle rumble. "We were worried. The job can wait, you know that."

Jenny nodded, a lump forming in her throat. She knew they cared, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being smothered by their concern. "I just needed a break," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the office's murmur.

"A break from what?" Luca's question hung in the air, the words a gentle challenge that made her heart ache. She didn't want to hurt them; she didn't want to make them feel like they were doing something wrong. But she also didn't want to live in their shadow, their fear dictating her every move.

"From the hovering," Jenny said, her voice a little stronger now. "From not letting me do things for myself. You guys ignore me sometimes, too wrapped up in your own worlds to remember that I have a life outside of this... mess." She waved her hand around the office, the files and computers a stark reminder of the mundane life they had to keep hidden from everyone else.

Luca's grip tightened, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. "You're right," he said, his voice thick with regret. "We've been too caught up in our own shit. We don't want to stifle you, baby. We just want you safe."

Jenny nodded, her eyes misting. "I know," she whispered. "But sometimes it feels like you guys are smothering me."

Luca's thumb brushed her cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped. "We'll try to be better," he promised. "We just want you to be happy."

Jenny nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. She knew they had good intentions, but their overprotectiveness had become a prison of love. "I know," she said, leaning into his touch. "I just... I need to feel like I'm part of the team, not just the one you all have to keep safe."

Luca's smile softened, understanding flickering in his gaze. "You are part of the team," he assured her, his thumb still brushing away tears. "But we also care about you too much to let you get hurt."

"Okay," she said, taking a shaky breath, "but the others are pretty mad."

Luca chuckled, the sound a low rumble that was as comforting as it was alarming. "I saw Tan and Street taking it out on the boxing bag early this morning."

Jenny's stomach twisted at the thought of them being mad, but she knew she had to face them. "What do I do?" she asked, her voice small and shaky.

"You just be you," Luca said with a wink. "They'll get over it. Besides, you've got me in your corner." He gave her a gentle squeeze before letting go, his hands lingering on her shoulders. "Now, let's get to work. We've got a meeting with Hicks in five."

Jenny took a deep breath and followed him into the conference room, her heart feeling heavier with each step. The room was filled with the usual suspects, all of them looking up as they entered. Hicks was at the head of the table, his expression stern as he talked about the latest mission. The moment he saw her, his eyes narrowed. She took her usual seat, her cheeks flaming under the weight of their stares. The air was thick with tension, the scent of coffee and stale cologne mixing with the anticipation of their next move.

Hondo's eyes bore into her, his jaw clenched tight. Deacon sat with his arms crossed, his eyes dark and unreadable. Street and Chris exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of anger and confusion. Only Tan's gaze held a hint of something softer, a flicker of concern that made her stomach clench. They'd all been worried; that much was clear. But she hadn't meant to cause a scene; she'd just wanted to feel alive.

Hicks had finished talking and had to step outside and take a call. 

The door clicked shut behind Hicks, the sound echoing through the tension-filled silence. For a moment, no one moved, no one spoke. Then, as if a dam had broken, Hondo was on his feet, striding towards her. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a lingering tear. "What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded, his voice low and fierce.

Jenny took a deep breath, her heart hammering. "I just... I needed time to think," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know it was selfish, but I couldn't take it anymore."

Deacon leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take what?" he asked, his voice as cold as the steel in his gaze.

Jenny took a deep breath, the weight of the unspoken words between them a physical pressure on her chest. "Take a night to myself," she said, her voice shaky. "To not be the one you guys have to protect all the time. To not be the weak link."

Deacon's handsome face tightened, his eyes flashing. "You're not a weak link," he said, his voice firm. "You're the glue that holds us together."

The others gathered around, their expressions a mix of anger and concern. "You don't have to deal with this alone," Street said, his voice gentle but firm.

Chris nodded, his eyes searching hers. "Why didn't you tell us?" she asked, his voice tinged with hurt. "We're here for you, you know that."

Jenny looked around the room, the love in their eyes unmistakable. "I didn't want to burden you," she said, her voice barely audible. "You guys have so much to deal with already."

"Is that so?" Hondo said, his voice low and measured. He pulled her into a hug, his arms a steel band around her waist. "You're not a burden, Jenny," he murmured into her hair. "You're our family."

Deacon's hand squeezed her shoulder, his gaze never leaving hers. "You're the heart of this team," he said, his voice a little softer. "We need you."

Tan remained silent, his eyes searching hers. Jenny stepped towards him, reaching out to grab his arm. "Tan," she whispered, her voice trembling. She needed his understanding more than anything. He was the one who had always been there for her, the one who knew her better than she knew herself.

Without warning, he grabbed her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. His eyes searched hers, the depth of his concern etched into every line and curve. Then, his mouth was on hers, a kiss that was as fierce as it was gentle. Jenny moaned, caught off guard, her body responding despite the turmoil of emotions. It was a declaration, a promise that no matter what, she was loved.

Her hand came up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers, their breath mingling in the space between. "We're sorry," he whispered. "We'll do better."

Jenny nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I just needed to feel like I was in control of my life," she said, her voice trembling.

"You are," Hondo said, his hand tightening around her shoulder. "You always are, baby. We just need to communicate better." His breath was warm against her neck, his words a soothing balm to the turmoil inside her.

Her eyes searched the room, finding each of her lovers' gazes. They all had their own ways of showing affection, their own ways of saying sorry. Street offered a tentative smile, his eyes filled with regret. Chris reached out, his hand finding hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. And Deacon, ever the stoic one, nodded in silent understanding.

Hondo's arms tightened around her from behind, his head resting on her shoulder. His voice was stern, a firmness that made her knees buckle. "But never that again, understand?"

Jenny nodded, feeling the warmth of his breath against her neck. "Yes, sir," she said, her voice filled with a hint of defiance that she couldn't quite suppress. The room went quiet for a moment, and then, like a dam breaking, everyone started to chuckle.

"What?" she asked, her voice small and confused.

Deacon's expression was serious, the belt in his hand speaking volumes. "You're important to us, Jen," he began, his voice a gentle rumble. "But that doesn't mean we don't need to keep you in line."

Her eyes went wide, a mix of fear and anticipation. "What are you doing?" she whispered, her breath hitching in her chest.

"What does it look like?" Hondo's voice was low, the command in his tone unmistakable. He bent her over the conference room table, his hand firmly on the small of her back, keeping her in place. She could feel the heat of his body, the unyielding presence that sent a thrill of excitement down her spine.

"Guys, what if somebody sees us?" She whispered, her heart racing as she glanced over her shoulder at the closed door. The sound of their footsteps had long since faded into the background, leaving them in a cocoon of secrecy.

Street's grin was wicked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then let them see," he said, his hand coming down with a firm smack on her upturned bottom. The sound echoed through the empty office, making her jump. She felt a blush spread from her cheeks to her neck, her ass stinging with a heat that seemed to radiate through her entire

[myriad-rainbows]

so I know we talk a lot on here about Tamsyn Muir's plotting and characterization (which is 1000% justified) but another thing that GETS me is her descriptions. Like,

[T]hrough the glorious wreck of the smeared and vaulted ceiling light streamed down in such quantities it made Gideon halfway blind again. There were deep couches and seating benches, with cracked covers and the stuffing coming out, with broken armguards and backs. Embroidered throws that clung to the seats like the skins of mummies, piebald where the light had touched them and dank where it hadn’t. Everything in that room was beautiful, and all had gone to seed. It wasn’t like back in the Ninth where unbeautiful things were now old and ruined to boot—the Ninth must have always been a corpse, and corpses putrefied. The House of the First had been abandoned, and breathlessly waited to be used by someone other than time. The floors were of wood—where they weren’t of gold-shot marble, or a rainbow mosaic of tiles gone leprous with age and disrepair—and enormous twin staircases jutted up to the floor above, spread with narrow, moth-eaten rugs. Vines peeked through in number where the glass of the ceiling had cracked, spreading tendrils that had since gone grey and dry. The pillars that reached up to support the shining glass were carpeted thickly with moss, still alive, still radiant, all orange and green and brown. It obscured old portraits on the walls in spatters of black and tan. It hung atop an old, dry fountain made of marble and glass, three tiers deep, a little bit of standing water still skulking in the bottom bowl.

!!!

[spiritualitygeek]

~ PAC: Your Mystical Mosaic ~

Where is your current energy leading you?

Disclaimer:

This pac is for entertainment purpose only. I am not liable for any actions or decisions taken or made based on the information presented in the reading. The interpretations and insights are subjective and open to individual perception. Please use your own judgment and intuition when applying the messages to your life or situation. Thank you!

Pile 1 ~ 🪄

the fool, 9op, aoc

All positive cards for you, Pile 1, which is amazing! I can clearly see you're about to embark on a new journey with a very positive and determined mindset. You're fearlessly diving into new adventures just for the thrill of it, without caring about what others think or even expect out of you. You exude a very warm and gentle energy, like someone who has faced challenges in life but hasn't let them dim their light. Your loving and joyful nature attracts people towards you, and you might find yourself being a natural healer to those in need.

Your current energy is attracting abundance, creativity, and happiness into your life. It's like a box full of blessings is on its way to you. You're manifesting your biggest desires, whether it's financial independence, glowup, specific person, or something else you deeply yearn for.

In this new journey, there's a strong possibility of finding a new love interest or forming a deep connection with a new best friend. For those not seeking romantic or platonic relationships, you could discover a new hobby or passion that brings you immense joy.

You've been seeking signs from the universe about your life purpose and career, and it seems like you're finding your true passion. Your faith in the divine timing is unwavering, and you're manifesting your dreams through pure belief.

If you're currently in the flow of life, trusting in the universe's plan, you're on the right path and a true winner. Your understanding of this concept sets you apart and leads you towards a fulfilling and abundant future.

Pile 2 🦋

the temperance, 8ow, knight-os

Okay Pile 2, you legit need to calm down/slow down. I just heard, "Hold your horses!" Your energy is everywhere.

What's the rush, love? You're running too fast as if there's a train or a flight you gotta catch. You're feeling as if you're running out of time, or that you're lacking behind. You're ambitious and it's good to be. But moving so fast and without caring to think before you act can sometimes put you in undesirable spot. It has happened with me recently and it happens almost all the time? I am quite like that myself. Sometimes, it can be out of overconfidence, other times it's anxiety. It's crucial to know the reasons and work on them.

I'm getting Mars dominant, Mars in first house or Aries/Scorpio energy. I'm a Scorpio moon and I have Mars in my first house so girl, I get you! I really do!

With the Temperance card, angels advise you to attain that balance, harmony, and modesty. You are encouraged to seek a middle ground, to balance opposing forces, and deal with circumstances carefully and composedly. In addition, it takes self-control and patience to get through life's challenges. You don't have to be so ferocious, fiesty, and overwhelmed. You're getting my point?

Also, are you juggling a lot and all on your own? You don't need to do everything on your own. Are you for real? I know you're awkward around people and you don't like asking for help but there's no loss in trying, love. There are people who are more than willing to help you. Atleast, ask them?

Lastly, I'd like to conclude with the fact that I saw the number 8 in my vision while shuffling for you and the card that came out was 8 of Wands and then I saw number 8 on my phone suddenly. So it's an 888. It can be a sign. Something you've been seeing frequently these days? Please check for the meaning of 888 angel number and decide what could it mean for you.

Pile 3 💭

8os, 5os, 5owX

Pile 3, I'm seeing you being trapped or restricted in a cage/prison, a prison you've built around yourself or have surrendered yourself, possibly due to past actions which you deem as mistakes. There's someone in your close circle of friends or family who you're mad at. For some of you, it's yourself who you're blaming! For not taking that leap of faith, or for leaving that job that offered you stability. For not being patient enough or not being careful enough. For not allowing you to be you or for not having enough freedom to try everything you wanted to.

You're feeling trapped in a cycle. A cycle that's repetitive, too mundane that you're sick of it. You want to go away to leave it all behind. You don't like the way things are. The way you are? And you're blaming them/yourself for it.

I know my words would come off harsh, but you're acting like a victim, not realising you can choose not to be one. It's not about survival, it's about existing! Life is a gift. And you're a divine being! Count your blessings instead of mishaps and you'll see a drastic change in everything, including your mindset. "Attitude of gratitude" ever heard of it?

Currently, you might be attracting situations that reflect the need to break free from self-imposed limitations and negative thought patterns. Financial problems, weakening relationships, unhappy job situation. You're aimlessly wandering for that funding for your project and so on...

You're determined, more than ever right now to go get it! But trust me anything that you start with this negativity within you, will only bring disaster in its wake. The self doubt and victimization will only bring more of it. There's things that need to be addressed. Matters that need to be resolved. Don't run away from them. Face your fears. Confront it head on! Don't avoid conflict. Be it with your own conscience or with your family/friends. The person or situation you're blaming, forgive them. Let go of them! It's nobody's fault. It doesn't have to be.

This combination of cards is your call to embrace self-empowerment, letting go of past grudges and forgiving yourself and others for past mistakes. What's done is done! Past is past for a reason. You have control over your present and future though. It's essential to confront any inner conflicts or self-doubt to find a sense of peace and clarity in your life.

The advice for you is to take a step back and reassess your current situation. Look for opportunities to release negative energy and work towards healing any emotional wounds. Embrace a more open and compassionate approach to yourself and others, as this will help attract positive and harmonious energies into your life. Remember, you have the power to overcome obstacles and create a more balanced and fulfilling future. Blaming yourself and others never helps. Trust me, I've been there!

Thank you all for taking the time to read my pac. I hope the insights resonated with you and provided some guidance. If you found this helpful, I'd be grateful if you consider following me for more spiritual content and future tarot readings. Wishing you all love, light, and positivity on your journey! ✨

- with love, Snow ❄️

Enjoyed the reading? Tip me here~

[actual-changeling]

i am still looking at the arcadia house and ohhhh boy do i have more thoughts. this is about to be an unhinged meta ramble written at 2 am so buckle in folks.

i know the most likely answer is that no one considered this important enough to keep track of so fuck continuity i guess, but i am not here for the easy answers.

if we ignore the windows that open to the outside even though they

a) SHOULDN'T based on their architecture and

b) do NOT have any kind of handle

we still end up with one big mystery.

side note: these are the windows. if you can spot something i missed, PLEASE tell me. they gotta open somehow because they ARE open, but????? anyway.

my question is what the FUCK is happening with the front facing window?

in case you're not as obsessed with this episode as i currently am, i mean this one:

i am pointing out the position of the streetlamp for reasons that will become clear in a second.

now, what's wrong with the window? by itself—nothing. but once you add the view from the inside it becomes funky. we get a small number of shots at different times. here is the window behind the (about to be bludgeoned to death) klines.

it looks like some sort of mosaic which is a weird place to put it but okay.

side note: why is the bed right in front of it? the room is big enough for other options, but i digress. we've already talked about the atrocious architectural and interior design choices.

said mosaic is barely visible from the outside, you can kinda see the outlines here.

i now have several more questions.

firstly, WHAT do we see through the window? on the right, you can spot what looks like some sort of shelf, and since the mosaic colours do not add up to form that kind of pattern, it HAS to be something else.

you can spot it at different angles so it's not just a weird reflection, it stays consistent.

this non-existent object, however, is the least of my worries. before i tell you what caused me to write this post, i want to point out the direction said window is facing.

we can spot the sun BEHIND the building both in the morning and in the early afternoon. since we get a nice shot of mulder's watch, we can deduce that this is south.

while this opens more questions regarding continuity (it's february. why is the sun still so high at 2:20 pm???), it's more important that we can now say with certainty that our mystery window is facing NORTH. north-facing means it does not get any direct sunlight throughout the day.

remember the streetlamp? it is lower then the window and also at an angle, meaning that its light will barely if at all shine through said window.

which finally brings us to my problem: what the FUCK is happening here?

this is at night, and even if it were earlier in the evening, the sun sets at, what, 6 pm? it's DARK. so please explain to me why the hell this window is back-lit (???) by something and also what the fuck that pattern is because it sure as hell doesn't match up with the one we see with the klines. that window has not changed between then and now.

no, there are no plants outside that could cause these shadows.

no, there are no lights directed at this window at an almost 90° angle, which you'd need to get this kind of fully lit-up result.

no, there are no lights underneath the roof overhang, as can be seen here.

there is nothing weird or notable about the outside of the window.

where are the lights coming from????? it looks like some sort of LED back-lit decoration but we KNOW it is a north-facing window. we can SEE parts of the mosaic from the outside, so there is no barrier or whatever between two panes of glass (???). which would also be a weird fucking choice but this house is might as well have that shit too; i would not be surprised.

so what is lighting up this window? if anyone has an explanation that makes sense and aligns with the facts we already have PLEASE tell me because i cannot figure it out.

the real x file of this episode is the mysterious, spontaneous lighting up, mosaic window that can apparently also shapeshift. did no one give a fuck about any of this and that's why it's the way it is? probably. but again, not here for the cop-out answers.

that concludes my increasingly less sane meta spiral for the day, feel free to add your own thoughts!!

[gojonanami]

Does the idea of househusband gojo inetrest you? 👀👀👀 yes it does omg — imagine gojo as a househusband - he’d be such a simp for his partner like — oh the envy of every person who sees him picking up their kids… I love it #sab [asks] #sab [anons] #pls send me asks about this I’m obsessed

in an alternate universe, sukuna and kenjaku are defeated and satoru is alive.

satoru has lived his whole life being a sorcerer. he lived in a vacuum of a society – almost as though he was living in a parallel universe.

and so, in this universe, the ultimate result of the merger is the following: cursed energy gets absorbed and, as such, sorcerers are eradicated.

and so, you end up using this as a way of telling satoru that he needs a break, and, as a result, he ends up becoming a househusband.

why? because why not?

you may have a job you like.

say, as a result of jujutsu, you accumulated knowledge regarding curses/mythology/psychology in various forms of media ranging mosaics to cinema, and you decided to become a professor and teach on that topic? well, now you can, and you don't have to worry about jujutsu any longer! it's a thing of the past.

or, say, your true passion was business and finance? well, now you can! now, you get to live out your dreams of being a hot boss woman in a world full of finance bros.

or maybe your dream was to become an artist, and you never had the time to properly dedicate time for it, but, guess what, now you can! and perhaps you end up making works that reference the curses that you've seen or the experiences that you felt, and you may wish to translate them via oil paint or video art or even performance art, and somehow, perhaps because it's so familiar yet unfamiliar, your work gets popular and disseminated, and even awarded? who knows?

regardless, now, the world is your oyster! nothing is holding you back.

and you want satoru to take a break.

you gently encourage him, perhaps, by first suggesting that it's a temporary arrangement.

but regardless, even in this world of jujutsu that is of the past, satoru has accumulated so many years of work due to being a special grade sorcerer that he has accumulated years of exhaustion. and what ends up being a temporary arrangement of him getting rest for his efforts turns into a semi-permanent arrangement. perhaps.

and while you worked a lot, too, you didn't work in the same way that satoru did when he was a sorcerer. although, to some, it may look like satoru mucked about, he didn't. while juggling responsibilities as a teacher, he also had to tackle and cover a huge number of missions in the whole of Japan as well as abroad. that is one mission after another after another with little to no breaks. perhaps none at all. that is not to dismiss your efforts, of course, but to contextualise them.

meanwhile, you encourage him to try out the things that he might like – be it baseball or singing or something else entirely. or maybe get back into teaching? later?

and so, this marks a foray into the world of satoru the househusband – sorcerer extraordinaire of the past, and househusband extraordinaire of the present.

what comes later? who knows! cats? dogs? children? parrots? a house with a view by the sea? a trip to see giotto & his bottega's frescoes at assisi? or a trip to the andes mountains? a couples' retreat in phuket?

regardless, you take it easy and go with the flow.

and you encourage satoru to take it easy.

did you read my mind?? I literally was thinking this — set exactly after the end of jjk omg. I love this — and he would struggle so much, after being held to such expectations and being forced to work all the time — he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. He probably would even get depressed and anxious — and then eventually he would get used to it.

And oh my god if you had kids, he would be so excited to stay home and play and take care of them— he wouldn’t even want you to work since he’s rich, but if you wanted to, he wouldn’t be opposed

[blueiscoool]

‘Beautiful’ Roman Mosaic Depicting Dolphins and Fish Uncovered in England

A rare 2,000-year-old mosaic depicting dolphins and fish in still-bright colours has been uncovered in a Roman city in Shropshire, English Heritage has said.

Archaeologists found it while carrying out excavations looking for the main civic temple at Wroxeter, one of the best preserved examples of a Roman city in Britain.

The experts behind the dig said the discovery, along with a large number of small finds including coins and pottery, would help them date the various phases of the city and the activities which took place.

Wroxeter, previously known as Viriconium, was established in the 90s AD. It was once as large as Pompeii in Italy, with a civic bath house, market place, county hall and judicial centre as well as more than 200 houses.

The excavation was a collaboration between English Heritage, the University of Birmingham, Vianova Archaeology and Heritage Services, and Albion Archaeology.

They opened trenches near the city forum to find the main civic temple based on geophysical surveying showing a walled precinct.

It uncovered a large monumental building on the city’s main road, as well as a shrine or tomb which may have honoured an important individual in Wroxeter’s earliest history, experts said.

They found the mosaic soon after the city was established, and depicts dolphins and fish in bright colours still visible today, along with a painted plaster wall on one side which survives to knee height.

The archaeologists say it would have been commissioned by a wealthy and important person.

Win Scutt, senior properties curator at English Heritage, said: “Although much of Wroxeter is unexcavated, geophysical surveys have helped us understand the layout of the city and we were aware that to the north of the forum there was another large civic building, almost certainly the main civic temple, buried underground. “Our excavations were in hope of discovering the walls of this building, but we never suspected we would find a beautiful and intact mosaic, which had lain hidden for thousands of years.

“This discovery, alongside a large number of small finds such as coins and pottery, will go a long way in helping us to date the various phases of the city and indicate the kinds of activities that were taking place.

“It’s always an astonishing moment when you uncover a fragment of beauty hiding just below the ground.”

The area of the excavation has now been reburied for its protection and preservation, English Heritage said.