#subtropical my behind

[wandering-jana]

I guess I’m staying home today then.

[tanaudel]

Could you explain the house and the map? I have followed you for a while and have enjoyed the little poems, but I feel like I am missing part of the context to appreciate them better

Thank you! Both @girlfleeshouse and @improbablemaps started as little observational lists in my notebook. I was breaking down some things I like (certain Gothic novel concepts; interesting maps) and rearranging the components to see where the cool stuff happened, and what is the minimum needed to create that effect.

I used those lists to build two little Tracery-coded bots (not AI:) using (originally) Cheap Bots Done Quick. The pinned post on @girlfleeshouse shows an example of the code. Putting together something like that is a really fun process for working out where the edges of a thing you like are. I recommend it. CBDQ is retired now, but Cheap Bots Toot Sweet works on Mastodon and Blue Bots Done Quick is for Bluesky (I crosspost here).

So both accounts could be whatever you want — a whole idea, a prompt, something to riff on or provoke a new thought or remind you of a thing that already exists.

More specifically, the idea behind @girlfleeshouse is that it puts together little Gothic scenarios and concepts, on the theory that the correct vibe is often enough to evoke that sort of a story. (Other genres need more elements — see for example the Midsomer Plots account, now on Bluesky). Also, I was working on a subtropical Australian Gothic novel (Honeyeater, out in 2025!), and procrastinating by wanting to write something chillier.

The idea behind @improbablemaps was simply to suggest unexpected maps. I draw maps for other peoples' books, which is why I was thinking about this — how you would create certain unusual maps. But once the account was up and running, I found it particularly fun for world building. I like thinking about the kind of situation and society and world and cartographer that makes, for example, maps of ice to show the path of a footrace for the purpose of sympathetic magic.

But I also like it when people build on them — little poems or stories or art or writing prompts.

If you have more questions, just let me know!

[hcdragonwrites]

Cozy (a @jttw-monkeybusiness Drabble )

So I made another one- this one was inspired by this ask (I suck at Hyperlinks I’m so sorry)

It rolled a bit in my brain and kept begging to be fleshed out, so I decided to give it life ! Enjoy!

Snow

Snow fell in white flurries, chasing away the blossoms and birds that had been sitting in the trees just moments before. The storm was in a full frenzy now, peeling petals from overeager trees who had budded too soon, and throwing the birds from the sky. The wind whipped up the cold powder to spray back in the face of the pilgrims as they continued on their journey. They had left the warm subtropical forest only hours ago, where Sophie had rolled her sleeves up to relieve some of the excess heat. Now however, she was shivering.

None of the group, save for Wukong, was truly equipped for the snow and cold. Pigsys ears were turning purple from the temperature as he tried, and failed, to hide from the worst of it behind Sandy. Sandy silently continued on, carving a path for Sophie (who trailed farther behind) to walk through. The snow was already deep, coming to her knees as they continued to follow the tiny path up the mountain. Black rock jutted upward and outward like broken teeth into the white air. Horse and Monk both were struggling ahead, Yulongs sides shivering in the wet as the snow melted on his fur. Tripitaka called Wukong over, asking him to scout ahead to look for a place they could shelter for the duration of this storm. Sophie could see there heads bent together as Master and pupil discussed. Wukong, for once, didn’t reply with a snort or a quick jab at how Trip should be lucky for him to be his disciple. Instead he had somersaulted off, gone in a flash of fur and tiger stripes, into the air.

“Would be nice if I could just somersault out of here.” Sophie muttered.

A freak blizzard had not been on the list of things Sophie was ready for. She had faced shape-changing demons, women that turned to great tigers to devour Tripitaka, mountain gods throwing stones down into their path and the like. Sophie was prepared for any person or creature - or at least- expecting it. The weather however? She was severely underprepared for. She had the travel clothes she had bought with the coin purse she’d been given. They were meant for light rain and mild heat. Not for a snowstorm. Sophies hair was getting wet and the cold was starting to chill her ears from where it melted.

“It’s so cold…” she muttered. She kept following Sandys footpath, thankful for the giant of a river demon and his slow shuffling walk. If he was walking normally he would have left her far behind in the snow.

Her foot hit a rock and slipped, sending her flailing into a rapidly growing snowbank. “F-f-f-freezing! AH!” Snow had gone down her shirt, sending a chill up her spine. Faster than a wildcat she had hopped from the bank, shaking herself.

“Hate snow hate snow hate snow—“ she chanted her mantra as she slapped off the powder, trying to prevent it from melting and wetting her clothes. Wet clothes would only spell disaster. Sophie could recall all the cold born illnesses from one special National Geographic did on Everest and the extreme exposure the hikers faced there: pneumonia, Trench foot, frostbite, hypothermia, flu, Chilblains, bronchitis —

Her foot slipped again as her mind was listing all the things that could happen. Sophie would have been in the snowbank a second time except something caught her by the midriff and hauled her up.

“Stupid women stay on your feet!” Wukong snarled in her ear, setting her down. Sophie nodded, teeth chattering and nose turning red as the cold began to chap it. “Of all the people here I thought at least you had the common sense to be aware of ice!”

From up ahead came the faint cry and heavy fall as Pigsys fell face first in the snow. Sandy had to quickly turn to hid a chuckle as the drenched demon began wilding swinging his rake around in rage.

“S-s-sorry.” She mumbled, shoving her hands beneath her armpits. “Slipped.”

“What’s wrong with your speech? You sound like a squirrel.” Wukong cocked his head, an eyebrow raised. He rolled his eyes when Sophie didn’t banter back irritated she wasn’t snapping back at him. That agitation grew when he felt something like worry begin to itch his pelt. Of the pilgrims, the two mortals were in his charge of care and were the most delicate. While Wukong could fight off monsters and Demons and wicked minded mortals he could not fight a storm. Well- he could if he really wanted to find the celestial body responsible for its creation. But that would take time- and time was not on his side on this.

Tripitaka had put on a brave face when he had asked the Monkey King to find shelter. That didn’t mean Wukong had not noticed how his Masters hands had turned red at the growing cold, how his body shivered and his nose sniffed. Wukong would have teased, poked and prodded at his master- it was his nature to rile and cause mischief. But when he had seen the half awake expression on the mortal man’s face, Wukong had bit his tongue (with great effort) and had instead nodded.

Seeing Sophie in a similar state made the itch beneath his pelt grow worse as fire ants had begun to bite his skin.

“Damn it.” He cursed beneath his breath. He snatched her arm, avoiding her hand, and started dragging her behind him. “Come on just a bit farther you softie. I found a cave up ahead where we can get out of the worst of it. You mortals are ABSOLUTELY worthless when it comes to weather —“

Sophie was only half listening to Wukongs ranting. She allowed herself to be dragged up the mountain pass, trusting the Monkey King to find a better route than her own dimming senses. The cold was like a blanket she wanted to escape out of. Or escape into? She couldn’t remember clearly. If she closed her eyes… she was so tired. The snow looked inviting, comforting. Like the best downy comforter. Like the fluffiest pillow.

Maybe I just … need to lay … down in the comfort. Just close my eyes for a few minutes.

They had been walking for hours before the storm blew in. Her feet hurt, her hands shook and it was so cold. Cold. She just wanted to sleep.

“SOPHIE LOOK AT ME!” Wukong yanked her and she was rattled enough to open her eyes wider in surprise. Sun Wukong was right in her face, leaning so close she could see every line of his facial markings in detail. His breath came from between his teeth like some dragons as he glared.

“Ye-es?!”

“Stay awake- we're almost there. If you fall asleep while I’m dragging your ass up the mountain I will bite your pretty nose clean off!” The demonic monkey spat, then, half carried, half dragged Sophie the rest of the way. Leaning against his back Sophie sighed. Through the clothing she could feel it- like desert sand warmed by the sun. Delicious heat. Sophie - who wouldn’t in normal circumstances have cuddled so close- practically melted against the warmth. What else could she do? Wukong was dragging her up the mountain- practically carrying her. She could see the bend in the mountain pass- a steep cliff where the road cut itself around and hugged the mountain as a snake would do climbing along a vine. Almost there.

“How come you get to be so warm?” She grumbled, not realizing she had said it aloud. Wukong had heard however, and his face became a storm cloud as his heart took a shuddering beat.

“Maybe grow some fur or ask for the Buddha to make you some furry creature. Bet he would too.” Wukong grumbled back.

Stupid fucking women.

They reached the curve in the mountain where Pigsy and Sandy- mostly Sandy since the pig demon kept complaining about how cold his snout was- were setting up three tents. The tents were simple, the leather treated against wet weather and solid. All pigsy had to do was drive the stakes into the stone which, it seemed, he was failing at.

“It’s so damn cold!” Pigsy snorted angrily stamping his hands together, having missed the spike for the third time. “Blasted Heaven and whoever ordered a storm now of all times! Don’t they know who’s crossing these mountains?”

“Less talking more working.” Sandy angrily chided. He had finished setting up the second tent all on his own. When Pigsy went to open his mouth to make another comment and the usually peaceful Sandy shoved him across the shallow cave to the last tent and the one closest to the entrance.

As Wukong walked past, Pigsy lifted an eyebrow at the strange sight. The Monkey King could see the pig beginning to lift a lip in a smirk only to stop when he noticed Sophie’s shivering.

“What did you do?” Those were the last words Wukong expected to come out of his fellow brothers mouth.

“WHAT DID I DO?!” He bared his teeth, fangs on display. He didn’t have time for Pigsy or for his own feelings to confuse him. He knew Sophie was practically clinging to his back like the newborn monkeys did to their mothers back on Flower Fruit Mountain. He was very aware of it. The last thing he needed was for this thick pink idiot to start shit with him.

“I DIDNT DO SHIT YOU THICK HEADED BOAR.” He spat, continuing past. “THIS IDIOT STARTED FALLING ASLEEP IN THE FUCKING STORM. NOW SHUT UP AND GET THE OTHER TENT SET UP.”

Wukong left Pigsy behind, angrily chattering to himself and feeling embarrassed all the while. He couldn’t let that thick womanizing boar know any of Wukongs feelings. If he did, the damn brute would only press his nose to it and route deeper. The sooner he got Sophie off his back the better. Even though he didn’t entirely want that.

He reached the back corner of the cave, setting Sophie down. She huffed, letting go with some reluctance to his warm back. The Monkey King knelt, leaning in. Sophie’s shivering was less. Good.

“I’ll be back- I have to make sure the pink ham doesn’t fuck up the last tent. Once I’ve tended Yulong and seen to my masters comforts I’ll be back to check on you.”

Sophie pulled her knees to her chest. She was still so cold. She wanted nothing more then to curl up and sleep- to find something warm and hold onto it. She heard Wukong from far off - but she nodded.

“S-S-sure… just gonna fall .. asleep.”

“Don’t fall asleep you idiot.” He snapped.

“Why not?” Sophie groaned. She was tired

“Remember. You are in wet clothes. Wake up just to remember - Think. Use that reading brain of yours.” He flicked her between the eyes. That woke Sophie up enough as the pain cleared her head.

“Ow, what the hell Wukong?!” Sophie felt like she had come out of a daze. Her fingers started rubbing at the pain. It wasn’t terrible but … she felt like a child be scolded. Sophie glared up into the smug monkey face.

“Awake? Good. Now fucking listen before you nod off again.” Wukong smirked just a bit. The itching beneath his fur had eased just enough upon seeing her get mad. He spoke slowly, for her sake but also to press in how much he enjoyed giving her orders- and being right about them. “Your clothes are wet. You can’t sleep in them. Change to new ones. In fact, bundle up as much as you can. I’ll be back to check on you.”

Wukong stood up, then turned back around to flick her on the forehead again.

“Ow! I’m up, I'm up!” Sophie rubbed at the space between her brows.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes yes …” she uncurled herself and stood as well, looking down at the Monkey King. “Get out of wet clothes and get new ones. Bundle up. That really hurt you know.”

“If you are still in wet fucking clothes, I’ll do a lot worse then just smack you between the eyes.” And then he was away, already cussing Pigsy out who had, somehow, managed to rip the tent.

It was a only about twenty minutes later but Sophie had managed not to fall asleep. She had gotten into the tent and had peeled the worst of the wet clothes off. Her poor shoes were the worst for wear- the socks and the soles were soaked. She would have to wear her spare shoes tomorrow and let these ones dry. Sophie had set the wet clothes to the farthest side of the tent. She was now dressed in a pair of gray sweats, a long sleeve and her hoodie of bright orange with clementines decorating the front. She felt much warmer and absolutely exhausted. Her fingers were red where the cold had gotten them, her lips felt chapped from the dry air, and her body just kept shivering.

Sophie had retreated almost completely into the hoodie- only her face was viewable.

The tent flap lifted and Wukong stepped in, a bowl of some sort of wild berries and cold rice in one hand. He took one look at her huddled there on her sleeping mat and snorted.

“You look like some orange orangutan.”

“Hahah very funny. See how you like the cold when you don’t have fur.” She shot back. Wukong offered the bowl to her and she took it, digging into it with gusto.

“How’s Trip?” She asked between bites.

“Alive.” Wukong leaned back, putting his arms beneath his head as he stared up at the tent ceiling. “You two would have frozen if not for me- you were both starting to look pinker than yangmei fruit.”

“Thank you.” Sophie said.

“Mm? What are you thankful for ?”

Oh he was gonna ask her for all of it then? Sophie looked at him. Wukong had propped himself up enough to stare at her, waiting.

“Thank you for the food.” She lifted the now empty bowl- she had been famished - to him. “Thank you for finding a spot to rest. And … thanks for dragging me out of the snow.”

“You almost died I hope you know that.” He smirked, laying back down, eyes closing. She followed suit, too tired to sit up anymore or even bicker back with him.

“Yeah I did …” Sophie yawned. Usually she wouldn’t admit so readily to Wukong just how certain situations had made her dependent upon him. He was always, in some way or other, saving the lot of them. When Tripitaka was snatched up by some Goblins belonging to some chieftain of a nearby mountain, when Pigsy had boasted that they didn’t need Wukong and then (almost immediately) failed to find food when Wukong was sent away. He had stopped the dragon horse from foundering and taken to the care of his hooves and coat many a time. The Monkey King had seen to restoring the missing supplies from Sophie pack when a group of mischievous raccoon spirits had taken it. Wukong had even replaced Sandy’s teakettle when it was smashed in battle (Sophie was pretty sure he had stolen it).

He may act aloof and pompous but deep down, this big old brute cared for them. Even Pigsy.

Sophie felt her eyes grow heavy as Wukong kept talking about how she had stumbled in the snow like some “dumb struck fawn” until he came to help her.

As she relaxed to the sound of his voice rumbling on and on, it almost felt … cozy. Yes Wukong may like to slide the occasional wriggly salamander into her water skin, he may thumb through her things like they were his, he may call her idiot, stupid women, and softie. But. There was no real malice behind his actions.

He was also kind of … warm. She scooted closer, half listening to the Monkey ramble on about the idiocy of mortals and the greatness of beings such as him. He was rambling on about his natural prowess over mortals and how he had mastered the arts of immortality and Tripitaka couldn’t even master warding off a cold. Sophie fell asleep before he could get to the part about her looking like a slack jawed idiot in the snow.

Wukong was only a quarter way through his regaling of the story of how he had saved everyone this day when he felt hands wrap around his chest.

His heart nearly flew into his throat as he stopped dead in his speech. His mouth was open, voice cut off halfway through his speech. Sophie curled into his side, face buried in the crook of his neck and so close to his ear he could feel her breathing against its shell.

Electricity shot threw him, fur standing on end as if he had been in a thunderstorm.

He was suddenly very aware of many things. Of Sophie’s hands that had escaped that ridiculous orange sweatshirt and were now burrowed into his fur. One arm was across his chest. The second one was now, somehow beneath his head and tugging on his shoulder. Sophie’s face rested on his arm and in the curve of his neck, her face rubbing back and forth like a cat. As if … she was enjoying the feel of it.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Sophie moved just a bit, mumbling in his ear and Wukong felt his tail lash like it had just been bit. She didn’t say anything coherent but — the proximity alone—

Fucking Hell and all its Judges.

Sophie was … cuddling him.

She was practically twined around him.

And she smelled fantastic. Her scent always changed- sometimes it held a hint of lemons and the sweetness of grass, other times it floated like rain clouds and smelled of stones. But all of it together had a larger perfume beneath it. It was just her. Yes there were moments when her scent changed just enough that he felt like he was adding new spices onto his favorite dish. The essence of it, however, was just Sophie.

And now that cloud was all around him, filling his nose.

He looked at her, turning his head just a fraction to see.

Big mistake.

She was asleep, passed out completely. She looked so … fragile asleep. The dark circles beneath her eyes spoke of how she hadn’t been sleeping well. Her nose was stupidly pink like a Red Pika in her pale face. The cold must have chapped it. His eyes darted to her lips …

Mistake number two.

Wukong looked away, feeling his face flame. Fuck. Shit. He was stuck in a predicament now. He hadn’t meant to chat away about himself for so long that Sophie would fall asleep. Wukong was at war with himself. On one hand, he needed to get out of here. To leave before Pigsy and the others found out- before Sophie found out.

He couldn’t let anyone be that close to him- couldn’t let anyone be as close as Sophie was right now. It was a liability to his pride, to his reputation—

To his heart. Because if she rejected him it would ruin the friendship they had. And the feeling he had building in his chest- he would crush it in his fist before he let it jeopardize that peace between them.

I have to leave —

Wukong tried to move-

Only to feel Sophie’s fingers tug in his fur and her sleepy voice grumble “m’no don’t go.”

Jade Emperor flay me and boil me alive again.

In all the hundreds of years of living, Wukong had only felt trapped like this but once before. The first time he had lost his wager to the Buddha, having been unable to somersault out of his hand. The second time? He was trapped because he allowed it. He was trapped in a way no one in Heaven could have predicted- or had thought to do. Wukong had been placed in vats to be boiled, had wormed and tricked his way out of every trap and net that had attempted to keep his mischief managed. It had taken Buddha and his wager to finally end Wukongs terrorization of Heaven.

Wukong couldn’t move now. He was tethered here by frail fingers and the steady beat of a mortal's heart.

He could hear her heartbeat, feel it against his side. It was steady, soft. Like the steady roar of Water-Curtain Cave. Like the wind through the trees of the orchards on his mountain.

She was mortal. One day that steady beat would stop as all mortal hearts did.

That set his tail to lashing just a bit.

Hasn't she been afraid of dying? Of growing old? He remembered hearing a conversation late at night- when Tripataka and Sophie had those rare mortal conversations where he was explicitly not allowed to sit in on. He hadn’t known why it was such a secret conversation. So of course, since it wasn’t an order, Wukong had pulled a hair from his tail and made a doppel and floated somewhere nearby but out of sight to eavesdrop. The Monk and Reader had been chatting about death, about Sophie’s future.

Well her fears were unfounded. Doesn’t she know I would take care of her? Sophie shifted a bit closer as a gust of wind slipped beneath the tent flat he had left unsecured. Damn it all. Wukong carefully, o so carefully, shifted himself. He slid his body so he was now lying on his side, setting Sophie’s head beneath his chin. It was all the invitation Sophie needed to cuddle closer and escape from the wind.

“You stupid women.” He angrily whispered into her hair. He wouldn’t let her die. He would just fix that. He would fix a lot of her problems. She just had to tell him. He was Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven. He knew of a hundred different ways to achieve immortality. He could fix them all. Like her problem right now of being cold.

He was too tense to relax fully- too aware- but he grew just a fraction larger. His size now dwarfed Sophie’s a good bit and gave her a bit more to tangle into. And she did. Sophie curled her knees up, shivering slowing. Wukong waited. Watching. When finally the shivering had ceased he allowed just a fraction of tension to slide off of him. This stupid softie is gonna make me soft. The thought didn’t bother him as much as it would have months ago.

Maybe he wouldn’t get much sleep tonight but…

He could make her life Hell in the morning. It was something that she owed him on. His face was screwed furiously into a scowl because all he wanted to do was enjoy this moment but if he did- if he really truly did- he didn’t know if he would be able to stop.

She was most assuredly going to be bombarded tomorrow with the most annoying and snappish teasing and toying a King of Monkeys and tricks could give.

Sophie woke with a start as something cold and wet slapped her in the face. She panicked as any person would.

“GaH! DEMON!” She cried, grabbing at her face and throwing it aside. It was a wet rag.

“Relax.” Wukongs voice laughed at her. “Unless cloth can become possessed and has gained a hunger for red nosed mortal flesh, you're fine.”

He was at the tent flap, grinning ear to ear in a grin that promised problems. Really so early in the morning and he already wants to play games ?

“You could have woken me up in a number of other ways- why did you pick that?” Sophie rubbed at her face, feeling … huh. She didn’t feel as sore as she usually felt. When Sophie woke up there was almost a constant crick of pain in her neck from whatever odd angle she had slept in on the ground.

Maybe I had been so tired my body just finally didn’t care.

He shrugged. “You stink. Next place we stop at you better demand a bath of some sort or other.”

“Thanks….” She grumbled, letting the sarcasm drip off her words. She took the cloth up, rubbing the sleep out of her face and the worst of the dirt off her face and arms. She would kill for a warm bath, one that would wake up her bones and chase the last of the cold from her body. Once clean, she checked her wet clothes, bundling them away in a separate part of her pack to avoid them dampening the rest of her stuff. Then she stepped out of the tent, smelling the fire and the promise of breakfast being made.

Only for her feet to slip right from beneath her as a monkey foot stuck out and caught her ankle.

“WUKONG!”

He laughed, face full of malicious mischief as Sophie gathered herself up to chase after the errant Monkey. To do what, she didn’t know. He was a mystical demonic creature born of stone and she just a mortal women. As the morning light cut into the cave and Tripitaka had to order his disciple to calm down after he once again tripped her and she almost went sprawling into rocks, the pilgrims ate breakfast. They broke down their tents. And they were once again on the road.

None were the wiser of Wukongs happier mood. He hid it beneath a storm of frowns and a game of teasing torture as he became partically insufferable to Sophie. The threat of the hoop tightening spell was the only true damper to his mood when Tripataka heard Sophie scream as snow was dropped down the back of her shirt.

As the sun rose higher and the word was cast in a frosty flash of refracted gold, Wukong made a decision. He would solve Sophie problem of growing old. It was easy. And if Buddha couldn’t send her back…

Well she was a great sport for pestering and heckling. The least he could do as a benevolent King is give the poor women a roof over her head.

Maybe a few dresses down the line...

Girls liked dresses right?

“Hey Reader!” He called.

“What?”

“Dresses or suits ? What did you wear in that fake time long after this one ? Or whatever fake dimension you fell out of. What did you prefer ?”

And thus began the long hour debate that somehow pulled every one of them: Pigsy, Sandy and Tripitaka, into what was a heated discussion on the best attire for the best occasions.

[unsoundedcomic]

Whumptober 2024 - 06 - "Not Realising They're Injured"

The Sonorie winter palace was in Alauri Beach, a dreamy subtropical district hugging Cresce's southernmost border. Northern districts feared Alderode and ill-intentioned Sharteshanian encroachment; locals said Alauri Beach's only enemy was the sea. Here the country harvested salt and seafood, chocolate and jewel-hued alien fruit that, after nearly a decade sequestered there, Roger still couldn't identify by name. He'd adjusted to the food, the mosquitos, the heat, the downpours, but loneliness remained a constant bedfellow. Even when his hosts provided alternatives.

Roger didn't spare a glance to the unclothed boy dozing in the fine satin bed behind him. Instead, from a high window of pebbled cerulean glass, he watched the waves lick the white sand shore far below, and thought of Mallory's mouth; of Mallory's dark lips parting to reveal Mallory's shell white incisors; of his bottom teeth rising to lightly close upon Mallory's tongue and stop him grunting as he came in Roger's throat.

Roger liked that thought, smiled, and added it to the letter unwinding from his quill.

He hadn't tasted that mouth in so many years. Sometimes he wondered if he hadn't dreamed their fiery affair. He'd certainly taken to romanticizing it in these ridiculous letters they shared, filling perfumed pages with whole bouquets of florid prose. Prick like a pine trunk. Creamy emissions sprayed across tendinous thighs and round, rosy ass. Ember eyes red and snapping. Roger thought he'd become quite the poet. But poetry by necessity was perhaps not as sweet as the lazy verses he'd written when he was younger, when life was easier, and Mallory was at hand to inspire his pen.

Roger slapped at a mosquito. Black legs and his own blood smeared his palm. His neck stung.

The palace was gorgeous. His personal quarters well suited the Queen's third husband. Its high stucco walls were covered in the softest gauzy drapes, and those drapes were slashed by golden cords pymarically aglow with shifting sun shafts and dancing firefly particles. Even the fine Foi-Hellick estate had not been this lavish, this luxurious with pymaric accoutrements. Fountains of emerald water burbled in each corner. Fragile blue fawns passed between them, sipped, would bow their heads respectfully if Roger met their eye. They were only glamours of course but he'd never seen finer. The peacocks too, and the songbirds. They peeled themselves off the walls every half hour, strutted about, clucked, sang, then replaced themselves in their murals. They smelled like sandalwood and one of the exotic fruits he couldn't name. It was the most beautiful room he'd ever seen, much less lived in.

Yet Roger thought of Mallory's strutting, Mallory's singing, Mallory's smell.

"It's a spear in my heart," he wrote, "That these glamours are more real to me than you may ever be again. If we don't meet soon, I hope the next assassin finds me alone and unguarded. Every day without you is a curse."

Gods, his neck hurt. Roger touched the bite but it wasn't bleeding. Perhaps the mosquito'd had that poxy fever that his servants warned him of sometimes, and now he was infected. Well, he shouldn't write so carelessly of dying, he supposed. The gods loved to ironically strike men down. But that would be poetry too, wouldn't it? He'd die long before Sonorie's people found the efheby.

Wait.

Efheby?

Was Mallory already-

From his bed, the boy muzzily called: "Lord Foi-Hellick?" Roger's thoughts scattered. "Why don't you tell me what I can do for you?"

Roger dropped his pen, gave his head a little shake to further scatter the blood-sucking swarm. "There is… there is naught to be done for me," he answered, "Not here. Not in this country."

"Pretend we are not in this country then. We will be in whatever country my Lord commands."

Roger stood. He turned from the pretty cerulean window, from his view of the southern sea. "Can you speak Tainish?"

Like marketplace produce, the boy in his sheets was beautifully arrayed, one leg bent beneath him, his soft cock sleeping on the cushion of his thigh. He nodded, and when he flashed his teeth in a smile, maybe there were too many teeth. Maybe they were the wrong shape.

"Ssa, maenhilo alata," he answered in the language of Roger's fathers, in the same ancient cadence Mallory used, "It is fine. I will speak any tongue my Lord desires."

[pockymun]

Maps of Galahd by Pockymun

I've been writing fic for FFXV for a few years now. One of the obstacles I've run into again and again was not knowing where the characters were at all. This made it hard to plan logistics like travel time, weather, and climates. So I decided to look at what maps we have from FFXV and create my own for the lesser-traveled regions (which is everywhere except Lucis, and even that map isn't that great).

This task in itself was frustrating because it's impossible to tell where the equator and the tropics are supposed to be. The climates of Lucis and Niflheim only confuse it further. If Lucis is based on America, it's pretty far up from the tropics. Accordo doesn't appear a warm enough climate to be in the tropics, either. (Accordo has a very coastal Mediterranean climate; just a note for the future).

There has been debate regarding where Galahd is in Eos. Most agree that it is the islands located behind Insomnia. It makes the most sense because of reaction to Galahd's invasion in Insomnia's news: Niflheim conquered land in Insomnia's backyard, and were knocking at the door. When Niflheim slowly conquered much of the mainland Lucis, nothing was mentioned regarding a reaction from Insomnia.

Being where it is, Galahd should be a much colder climate than what I have it as. It should be more like Norway or Finland. However, the Kingsglaive anniversary artwork depicted a scene with a lot of South/Southeast Asian influences. The proper places of climates never seemed to matter to the developers of Final Fantasy.

In a rudimentary attempt to map the ocean currents of Eos, I drew a warm ocean current that runs westward on the north side of Galahd. This would cause the islands to have a slightly warmer climate than what it should have considering its placement. Logically, it wouldn't be warm enough to be considered subtropical, but I really wanted there to be a jungle climate in FFXV and I think that's what the developers originally intended as well.

On the southern coasts of Galahd, there is a cool ocean current that runs westward. These waters are much calmer and are ideal spots for large fishing enterprises. The warm ocean current in the north brings storms and a lot of rain; the north side of the islands are much wetter.

The climates I described in the climate map are classifications that can be found on Wikipedia. I tried sticking close to climates found in Southeast Asia, while also giving some more temperate areas as well. While much of the material culture is SE Asian, there are some things, such as the braids Nyx and Lib wear, that seem to stem from ancient Indo-European/Iranic influences. There was a custom among one of these people in which only warriors braided their hair.

For place names, I used fantasynamegenerators.com and selected random South/Southeast Asian town names. There are two straits, the oceans, and the seas that I haven't named yet. The map became very cramped with one names I already put on it.

Some headcanons I came up with while working on this:

Galahd's climate provides some challenges to the transportation infrastructure. There is no major roadway nor any major settlement on the north edge of Lhasgar due to the dense forest and the risk of annual floods. Cities and towns are more firmly established further in the island.

When Lucis still controlled the islands, they attempted to improve the infrastructure by establishing major roads and railways. The climate did not allow much leeway for railway, however. Around the same time, Lucis relaxed its control over Galahd and allowed for autonomy.

The most common forms of transportation are by vehicle, bus, or boat along the waterways.

There are cities and towns. These were there before Lucis took over, although they had looked much more traditional back then. Most of the world believes Galahd to be a couple of islands full of small backwoods villages, but they were as sophisticated as any other culture at the time they were conquered, and modernized with everyone else. While modernizing, Galahd had also managed to stick with their traditional culture.

While the map looks crowded, there is still a lot of open land and wilderness. The rivers and lakes shown are only the major rivers and lakes; there are more, just as there would be for any other regional map. Water and wilderness are defining features of Galahd.

The mountain ranges had once been connected, just like how the Appalachian and the Little Atlas Mountain Ranges.

Feel free to use these maps when writing your own fics or headcanons! I would greatly appreciate being credited. These maps are just my interpretation, and don't stand in for canon material. They are flawed, but I worked with what I had. I made these using Inkarnate.

[thoselethalarts]

𝓚𝓪𝔃𝓾𝓸 𝓖𝓾𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓻𝓸 - 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂

(SR) Lab Coats (Part 1): "I Can’t Really Turn Back Now."

(NRC: Botanical Garden – Subtropical Zone)

Kazuo: Okaaay... So out of this list of ingredients I’m supposed to collect something called… “Frogdoss Mushroom Caps”. Kazuo: Let’s see… Frogdoss, frogdoss… what does frogdoss look like, exactly…? That’s not exactly a normal plant name… Kazuo: What do my notes say… “A mushroom named for its large, shiny caps, which grow in such a shape that its body resembles a squatting frog or toad. Usually a shade of green, brown, gold.” Kazuo: “Can often be found sprouting on or near rotting logs or in piles of dead leaves and foliage.” Kazuo: That sounds like it should be obvious, so… where is it…? Kazuo: Maybe under this tree…? It’s kinda damp under here, so maybe… Hey, that looks it right there! Kazuo: Lucky me, I found it right away! I’ll take some field sketches first before I go harvesting any, since they’ll be great for my notes~

(Jade approaches Kazuo from behind)

Jade: Good afternoon, Kazuo.

Kazuo: Oh, hey Jade! Sorry, am I in the way?

Jade: A little. I just need to move past you for a moment. I’m cultivating a specimen here under this tree.

Kazuo: A specimen…? Wait, is the frogdoss under here yours?

Jade: Indeed it is! Jade: Magnificent, isn’t it? It took me quite some time to get it grown to this state. Jade: Frogdoss is notoriously finicky to grow in captivity, so this is quite an achievement for me as a budding mycologist.

Jade: I was able to find some substrate that was perfect to create a starter for its mycelium to take root, and filled this log with it so it had plenty of room to grow. Jade: And now here it is. These large, luscious caps are proof of all my hard work and efforts.

Kazuo: It looks great! You did a really good job. Kazuo: Hey, uh, out of curiosity, do you know if there’s any more of it growing here in the botanical gardens?

Jade: Sadly, no. Most mushrooms grown here in the botanical gardens that I’ve been able to find have grown entirely by accident, and they’re usually removed before they can spread into a healthy cluster. Jade: It’s a shame, really. I’d like to advocate for more mushroom cultivation here in the gardens, but as far as I know the only ones we have are the ones I’ve been growing.

Kazuo: Oh, that’s… that kinda sucks, actually. Kazuo: Uh… This might seem kinda rude to ask, but I don’t suppose you’d be willing to part with some of your frogdoss, would you?

Jade: What do you mean?

Kazuo: Well, uh… how do I put this… Kazuo: See, I’m taking this advanced alchemical transmutation class, and we’re doing a group project that requires us to do some field work before our next lab assignment. Kazuo: Each group member is supposed to collect a different kind of ingredient, so we can make potions out of them next week. Kazuo: Our ingredients were silver hogweed, thorny whitefruit, and frogdoss caps. Frogdoss is the one that I picked.

Jade: I see… so you want to harvest some to bring back to your class.

Kazuo: Yeah, exactly!

Jade: Then I’m afraid I must decline.

Kazuo: Eh- Why not? I mean, there’s so much you’ve grown I figured maybe just a little…?

Jade: Perhaps so, but you see it’s more difficult than that. Jade: This is a very sensitive mushroom, and if I were to remove even one of the layers of the caps forming its distinctive shape... Jade: The removal process would likely damage the remaining caps, become infected, and then rot. Jade: I’m actually quite proud of my work in developing this fungus. It took me several months to cultivate, and then several weeks for its caps to grow to such an impressive size. Jade: Parting with such a treasure would be like separating me from my own child… I don’t think I’d very much have the heart to simply give it away on a whim.

Kazuo: O-Oh! No, that’s okay! I totally understand. Kazuo: I wouldn’t wanna ask something of you if it means that much to you… that’d be really mean. Kazuo: Though… I told my group that I’d find that specific ingredient, so I can’t really turn back now, it’d throw the whole plan into disorder… Kazuo: I’ll have to find some other way to get it, but… I don’t even know if it grows in here. What am I gonna do…?

Jade: Hm… what if we made an exchange?

Kazuo: Huh? What kind of exchange?

Jade: Parting with such a magnificent fungus is quite heartbreaking for me… but perhaps I’d be willing to part with at least one of its caps if you’d be willing to find me something worth its weight in exchange.

Kazuo: Oh, sure thing! That makes sense to me. What do you need me to get?

Jade: There’s a site just outside of campus where a very rare mushroom is said to grow, but its growth site is also very difficult to get to. Jade: If you could perhaps help me with collecting some of it, then I’d be more than willing to part with some of my beloved frogdoss caps.

Kazuo: Really?! Sure thing! I’d love to help with that! Tell me about it, what does it look like?

Jade: It’s called a “Velvet-Cap Agaricus”. It’s a small mushroom, with a dark purple cap, and its stalk and gills are a pale blue. Jade: It's a parasitic fungus that grows in very high locations, like the tops of trees and on the sides of cliffs, and it can only grow in areas with very high magical density, like our school campus. Jade: I’ve been trying to locate some for a very long time, but as of now I’ve had no luck at all. Purchasing one is out of the question, too, as they’re very expensive due to being so rare.

Kazuo: Huh… and you’re sure there’s some outside of campus?

Jade: I know there must be, we're one of the few locations with prime growth conditions. It’s simply a matter of locating it and collecting it before somebody else does. Jade: If you manage to locate and harvest some of this precious mushroom, I’ll be happy to relinquish my ownership of my beloved frogdoss to you.

Kazuo: Well, I can’t really turn back now, since there’s not going to be any more here in the botanical gardens… I’ll see what I can do!

Jade: Excellent! It’s a deal then. I’ll be looking forward to seeing the fruits of your hard work, heheheh~ Jade: In the meantime, I should probably move my sprout here as soon as possible. Jade: If what you say about your class is true, then this is no longer a safe place to nurture it. Anyone could come by and steal it away without any care for its well-being.

(Jade picks up the log with the mushroom and walks away)

Kazuo: This definitely won’t be easy if even Jade doesn’t know where this mushroom is yet… but I have a week to figure out where this thing might be. Kazuo: I’m not exactly a mycologist, and I’m not all that good at finding things on hikes, but I’m gonna have to try. My good grade depends on it!

/ To be Continued…

[roosterbox]

Fic Rec Friday 9/15/23

Title: Getting high on the amber wave

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington's Parents

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Hurt Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Awesome Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Protective Eddie Munson, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, 5 + 1 Things, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Abusive Parents, kinda slow burn, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names

Summary: Five times Eddie comforts Steve without fully knowing the reason behind it and one time he does.

(sets before season 2 and forwards)

———

Nothing quite like a good old fashioned divergent timeline, eh guys?

One of my greatest weaknesses with Steddie fic is anything pre-season 4. The idea that Steve and Eddie knew each other before season 4, whether they were actually together or not, just warms my heart, you know? It’s so good. And this one is especially nice. Just little scenes, vignettes in Eddie’s life, about his ever evolving relationship with Steve. Each one raises the emotions just a tiny bit more. From slightly concerned indifference in the first part, to a deep and concerned love and adoration in the last. It feels like a natural progression.

Steve is particularly precious in this. It’s nice to see him get the affection and care he deserves for once. That he should have been getting in-universe. That boy has been through A LOT, and all I’d like to see is someone taking care of him. It’s a perfect marriage: Steve deserves to be taken care of, and Eddie likes taking care of Steve. They work so well together.

I’m especially fond of the post-Starcourt scene, just because that’s kind of like a subtrope of a subtrope of Steddie fics I love, if that makes sense. Sort of like,

Main Trope: Pre-S4 Steddie

Sub Trope: Scoops era Steddie

Sub-Sub Trope: Eddie comforts Steve after the mall fire.

The second to last scene, though. Perfection. Chef’s kiss. Absolutely beautiful.

This is a freaking gorgeous story.

———

Next Week: Murder Husbands again! Been a lil while, right? And since I’ve finally finished watching Hannibal, it felt more than a little appropriate. Also, the theme of Canon Divergence continues. In this story, prior to the events of Futamono, Hannibal spends the night with… someone else. And given that it’s a Hannigram fic, who that someone is should be obvious, lol.

See you next time!

[tropylium]

it's a harmless naive one, but the dumbest Near East conflict opinion I've heard is still the perennial one my mother states, for decades now, about every time there's something going on there (or occasionally in various other similar places): "it's such a lovely place, warm and sunny and fruitful, you can grow all sorts of wonderful things there [unlike here in the frozen north], why would they even fight there? why don't the guys who do want to fight go to the desert to duke it out and leave the rest of the people out of it?"

yes mom they're fighting because someone has driven someone else out from their lovely garden, that's kinda the basic issue behind the conflict, about no one enjoys the fighting per se. you would not want to fight to death if someone stole a plot of land from you because the land around here is after all cold and unproductive and desolate in comparison, and also there's millions km² more of it to go around, lots of it public and/or with rich everyman's rights. but the temperate-to-subtropical zone of the world has been densely populated for millennia, and there is not any abundance of unsettled or even publicly held land that could be turned into a lovely garden just by minor effort on a whim

[threewaysdivided]

Andrew Garfield, in interview with Alex Pappademas for GQ Magazine, November 2022:

I think it says something that even someone in your position grapples with this stuff: the pressure to constantly be producing, the fear of being left behind. There’s not a level of success that frees you from those questions.

No. It makes me think about – and it’s funny, I’m sorry, but my reference point for everything now, I just go back to my mum not being here. I just go to that and what that means. It means I’m not gonna be here long, and we’re not gonna be here long. That doesn’t provide any answers, but it does feel like it sharpens an arrow of direction, in some mysterious way.

But then, I don’t know – my dad, right now, I think, is just meant to tend his back garden. He’s lost his wife, and I think all he’s meant to do right now, for the most part – it’s going to make me cry – is play with his grandkids, and create this back garden. He’s turned it into, like, a subtropical jungle. He’s got a water feature and a moat. He’s gone crazy, as grief will make you do, but he’s gone toward beauty and nature and self-soothing. And I’m really kind of impressed with him for that. The fact that he’s created something so beaut–

[A pause. Garfield tears up]

Fuck. Fucking hell, man. It’s awful. It hurts – the beauty of it hurts, so much. Knowing he’s created something so beautiful out of the worst loss you could ever, like �� [voice breaking] They were together, in love. They were an imperfect couple that stayed together. And for him to be left, now, to deal with what that means – I’m not going to speak for his experience, because that’s not appropriate. But I feel like I can say: I feel like making a garden is plenty. You know what I mean? I don’t think we’re all meant to save the world all the time.

...

Life seems to be a perpetual practice of letting shit go. Letting go of an idea of how a thing should look, or be, or feel. And that one’s a big one...

But, yeah. Life, life, life. Life is in charge. We’ll see. We’ll see what happens. I’m curious.

“I’m in a real period of not-doing,” he says, cheerfully. “The usual aggressive, ambitious, driven heartbeat, rapping at the door has subsided for a while.”

[scheherazadean]

I.

I buried the tree sapling my uncle gave me last spring It could not live past its first winter, succumbed to the confines of its planter and recycled soil and the love of a gardener who gave sparingly in water and attention until stems and leaves turned dry and skeletal All that remains now is a husk of its former vitality leaving behind a body as worm-food on my windowsill

II.

The sun is coming out again, days growing longer in spite of April's moody showers I examine every one of my clover's roots, comb for rot and mould with a keen eye I sieve through my surviving relationships, sorting those not yet succumbed to decay from lost causes It's spring again; I send a prayer to the powers that govern growth and renewal After all, the succulent I beheaded last November crawled out of its shallow grave too

III.

The seabirds at my windows argue over who gets the afternoon worm They wake me up in the morning sometimes, before the sun has even woken up with loud goo-goo-goo's like a firstborn's cries They've built a home and nest into my apartment building's facade, between the A/C units and the brickwork All around us, nature and the city come together as one: Snakes hiding in the public park's flowerbeds, boars shopping in the supermarket The streets are not yet reclaimed by vines and barking deer, but maybe it's just a matter of time Fact: there's a thousand brown cows roaming free from the hills to the sea, and twice as many wild dogs and monkeys invasive species brought into the city by well-meaning farmers Maybe we too are invasive species to the local flora and fauna of the subtropical rainforest this land used to be New life grows in the ashes of forefathers, evolves with the passing of eras; life persists, as long as there are nutrients in the soil

This piece was first conceptualised as a series of 3 short poems. It was written to be performed at the OutLoud Hong Kong open-mic night of April 2023, for the theme of ‘Rebirth’. With the Wednesday being Ching Ming Festival followed by Good Friday this week, it seemed topical to pen an ode to death, burial, and new beginnings amidst Hong Kong’s rainy, foggy April weather.

The image used for the cover artwork is by Peter Lam CH @peterlamch on Unsplash.

[ourspiritanimalxs]

What Does A Yellow Hibiscus Flower Symbolize?

The hibiscus flower, with its vibrant colors and intricate petals, holds deep symbolic meanings across different cultures and traditions. Among its many hues, the yellow hibiscus stands out with its unique symbolism. In this article, we will explore the symbolic significance of the yellow hibiscus, examining its meaning in various cultures, its associations with emotions, and its place in the natural world. Whether you're a flower enthusiast, a gardener, or someone interested in the symbolic world of flowers, understanding the meaning behind the yellow hibiscus can deepen your appreciation for this beautiful bloom.

The hibiscus is a genus of flowering plants native to tropical and subtropical regions of the world. It belongs to the Malvaceae family and boasts more than 200 species. Known for its large, colorful blooms, the hibiscus has a reputation for beauty and resilience. The flower is often associated with warmth, passion, and grace, but the specific meaning it holds can vary depending on its color.

The yellow hibiscus is a particularly striking variety, with its bright, sunny color that stands in contrast to the more common red, pink, and white varieties. The vivid yellow of the hibiscus symbolizes positivity, joy, and warmth, making it a popular choice in gardens and bouquets alike.

General Symbolism of the Hibiscus Flower

Before diving into the specific symbolism of the yellow hibiscus, it’s essential to understand the general meanings associated with the hibiscus flower. Across cultures and traditions, hibiscuses are often seen as symbols of:

Beauty and Delicacy: The hibiscus is a strikingly beautiful flower, often representing the delicate beauty of life.

Feminine Energy: The shape of the hibiscus, with its large, open petals, is often linked to femininity, nurturing, and the divine feminine.

Love and Passion: The hibiscus, especially in red, is often associated with intense emotions such as love, passion, and desire. In some cultures, it is given as a symbol of romantic affection.

Mysterious and Spiritual: The hibiscus is also seen as a flower with mystical qualities. In some spiritual contexts, it represents the unfolding of spiritual wisdom and enlightenment.

Now that we have a general understanding of hibiscus symbolism, let's delve deeper into the meaning of the yellow hibiscus.

1. Yellow Hibiscus as a Symbol of Friendship and Joy

One of the most prominent symbols of the yellow hibiscus is friendship. The bright yellow color evokes feelings of happiness, optimism, and companionship. In many cultures, the yellow hibiscus is given as a gift to celebrate friendship, gratitude, and shared moments of joy. The color yellow itself is universally associated with positive emotions such as:

Happiness: Yellow is the color of sunshine, and the yellow hibiscus embodies the warmth and light that come with joyous moments.

Optimism: Much like the rays of the sun breaking through the clouds, the yellow hibiscus symbolizes hope and optimism in difficult times.

Warmth: The vibrant hue of the yellow hibiscus is also symbolic of warmth, both literally and metaphorically. It represents the emotional warmth that one receives from friends and loved ones.

In the language of flowers, known as floriography, the yellow hibiscus is often used to express gratitude and appreciation for someone’s friendship. Giving a yellow hibiscus can be a way of saying, "Thank you for bringing joy and light into my life."

2. Yellow Hibiscus and the Concept of Happiness and Positivity

The color yellow has long been linked to feelings of happiness, positivity, and cheerfulness. When applied to the hibiscus flower, this association is even more pronounced. The yellow hibiscus is seen as a symbol of pure joy, optimism, and the power of a positive outlook.

In the context of relationships, the yellow hibiscus represents the kind of happiness that stems from good times shared together—whether among friends, family, or even romantic partners. It emphasizes joy without expectation, a cheerful and light-hearted form of affection that doesn't carry the weight of intensity or passion.

This symbolism of happiness and positivity is often reflected in tropical and island cultures where the hibiscus is abundant. The flowers are often used in celebrations, festivals, and ceremonies to invoke a spirit of joy and celebration. Whether placed in a home or used as a garland, the yellow hibiscus becomes a beacon of light, both figuratively and literally.

3. The Yellow Hibiscus and New Beginnings

In some cultures, yellow flowers are associated with new beginnings and fresh starts. The yellow hibiscus, with its bright and bold color, serves as a reminder of the possibilities that come with a new chapter in life.

This symbolism makes the yellow hibiscus an ideal gift for someone embarking on a new journey, whether it’s a new job, moving to a new place, or even the start of a new relationship. It represents renewed hope and the excitement of exploring new horizons.

In the context of personal growth, the yellow hibiscus can symbolize the personal transformation that comes with embracing optimism, letting go of negativity, and starting anew with a clear and positive outlook.

4. Yellow Hibiscus in Hawaiian and Tropical Symbolism

The hibiscus flower is native to tropical regions, with particular prominence in Hawaii, where it is a state flower. In Hawaiian culture, the yellow hibiscus carries distinct meanings tied to the traditions and values of the island people. While the red hibiscus represents love, the yellow hibiscus in Hawaii is a symbol of hospitality and friendship.

The lush, tropical environment where the hibiscus thrives reflects the islanders' values of warmth, generosity, and community. In this context, the yellow hibiscus is a symbol of a welcoming spirit, the invitation to come together, and the joy found in shared experiences.

In Hawaiian culture, the yellow hibiscus is also used in leis—flower garlands given to guests as a sign of friendship and goodwill. The giving of a yellow hibiscus lei is a gesture that signifies the joy of welcoming someone into your life or home.

5. Spiritual Meaning of the Yellow Hibiscus

While the yellow hibiscus is primarily seen as a symbol of joy, friendship, and positivity, it can also carry spiritual meanings in different traditions. In Buddhism, yellow flowers often symbolize the Buddha’s wisdom, and in this context, the yellow hibiscus may be seen as a symbol of enlightenment, clarity, and understanding.

In some cultures, yellow flowers, in general, are believed to have protective properties and are thought to ward off negative energy. The yellow hibiscus, with its bright and cheery hue, can therefore be seen as a spiritual talisman—serving to cleanse the space it occupies and bring peace to its surroundings.

6. The Yellow Hibiscus and Symbolism in Other Cultures

Beyond the tropical cultures, the yellow hibiscus is also found in other parts of the world where it holds unique meanings:

In China, flowers are often tied to certain symbolic meanings, with yellow flowers sometimes representing nobility and honor. The yellow hibiscus, in this light, could symbolize the nobility of spirit and the honor of being in harmony with nature.

In Victorian England, where flower symbolism was highly popular, yellow flowers generally represented friendship and new beginnings, reinforcing the ideas of the yellow hibiscus as a symbol of positive relationships and fresh starts.

In the United States, the yellow hibiscus is frequently used in floral arrangements and gardens as a symbol of the joy of the summer season, as well as a representation of the enduring warmth and beauty of life.

Conclusion: Embracing the Yellow Hibiscus

The yellow hibiscus is a beautiful flower that, beyond its striking visual appeal, carries with it a wealth of positive meanings. It represents friendship, joy, optimism, new beginnings, and the warmth of human connection. Whether it's a gift given in celebration of a new chapter or a symbol of light in a time of darkness, the yellow hibiscus serves as a reminder to embrace the brighter side of life and to surround ourselves with positivity.

In many ways, the yellow hibiscus invites us to look at the world through a more optimistic lens, encouraging us to celebrate the simple joys of life, to welcome others with open arms, and to always find the sunshine even when clouds seem to gather. The next time you encounter a yellow hibiscus, remember that it is more than just a flower—it is a symbol of the best qualities of human nature, calling us to nurture friendship, embrace happiness, and begin anew with hope.

[jinruihokankeikaku]

I'm going to go out on a limb and say we'll see 4~6 more TCs before the year's over - maybe 1 on the 31st, 3 or 4 in November, and 1 post-season TS/STS in early December. 2~6 could be named, 1~5 could be hurricanes, and 0~2 could be major hurricanes, bringing the final 2024 tally to something like 19~21 TCs, 17~21 NS, 11~15 hurricanes, and 4(+1)~6(+1) MH (Oscar being the unofficial "+1".)

Overall, this would bring the season to the low end of the pre-season forecasts for # of named storms, and the high end of pre-season forecasts for # of hurricanes and major hurricanes, potentially even tying (though not exceeding) the standing records for the latter two categories. It would also put the season well into the "hyperactive" bracket with regard to Accumulated Cyclone Energy.

My reasoning behind this, as a total amateur, is that between the unusually backloaded season we've seen so far, the impending weak La Niña, and the incoming MJO pulse, we'll see one more burst of activity in early November, and possibly a second, smaller burst as the season comes to an end. It's a bullish forecast, but not terribly out of line with other predictions from various meteorologists and weather agencies. Activity will almost certainly be concentrated in the Caribbean, as is typical for November, with some additional activity possible in the subtropics; the Gulf of Mexico has already begun to cool, and the MDR/Cabo Verde season is effectively over (and in many ways, struggled to start at all).

If I were to give one solid number for each category, I'd say 21/20/13/5(+1). I'll check back in 2025 and see how I did.

[angel0news]

Ram Lalla Idol That Lost Out. Rajasthan Sculptor's White Marble Version

While the black stone idol of Ram Lalla carved by Mysuru sculptor Arun Yogiraj has made it to the sanctum sanctorum of the grand temple at Ayodhya, two other idols under consideration will now be placed in other parts of the temple. One of them is a white marble idol carved by Rajasthan's Satyanarayan Pandey. NDTV has accessed a photograph of this idol, which could not make it to the temple's 'garbha griha' but will be placed elsewhere in the Ram Temple.

The white marble idol is currently with the trust. It shows Ram Lalla holding a golden bow and arrow. Behind the deity is an arch-like structure that contains smaller sculptures depicting various incarnations of Lord Vishnu. The idol shows remarkable craftsmanship as jewellery and clothes adorning the deity are chiselled out of marble. The dimensions of the idol are in line with those laid down by the trust overseeing the construction of the temple.

The 51-inch black granite idol that now adorns the temple's sanctum sanctorum has been carved out of a rock 2.5 billion years old, National Institute of Rock Mechanics HS Venkatesh has told NDTV.

"The rock is highly durable and resistant to climatic variation and will sustain thousands of years in this subtropical zone with minimum maintenance," he has said.

The rock used for the idol was brought all the way from Karnataka and was reportedly excavated from Gujjegowdanapura in Mysuru. According to news agency PTI, a local contractor drew the temple trust's attention to the rock's quality after it was found during a levelling exercise on agricultural land.

In Ayodhya yesterday for the 'pran pratistha' ceremony, sculptor Yogiraj said it was the best day of his life. "I have always felt that Lord Ram has been shielding me and my family from all the bad times, and I strongly believe that it was Him who chose me for the auspicious task. I spent sleepless nights working on the idol with precision, but it was all worth it. I feel I am the luckiest person on Earth and today is the best day of my life," he told PTI.

Besides Mr Yogiraj and Mr Pandey, Ganesh Bhatt from Karnataka had also carved a sculpture that was considered for the sanctum sanctorum. That too will now be placed somewhere in the temple.

Large parts of the temple are yet to be constructed, including the first floor that will house the idol of Raja Ram, with those of Sita, Laxman and Hanuman.

[mint-moon25]

SABBATH - 15 JUL 2023 - PAYDAY

MANY - BANKS - 2 DAYS - EARLY

13TH - DAY - 'AFTER' - AMAZON

11 & 12 JULY - PRIME DAY SALES

RAINING - RIGHT - NOW - WITH

SUBTROPICAL - STORM - DON

BUT - HURRICANE - CALVIN

APPROACHES - HAWAII - HI

AT - 120 MPH - WINDS - OUR

PRAYER - BUT - FAR - FR FL

FLORIDA - RAINING - RIGHT

NOW - 1:13P - BUT - JUST US

STOPPED - WAS - INTENSE

RAIN - 35 MINUTES - EST 2

WAITING - 5 MIN - MORE 4

EXCITED - ABOUT - TENT

EASY - SET - UP - AS - ME

WILL - TRANSFER HEAVY

TWIN - BUT - CARRYING - MY

THINGS - EVERYWHERE - 175

POUNDS - ALMOST - KILLED

ME - KOREANS - VIETNAMESE

IN - MIAMI - NO - BREASTS - FL

BEING - ASIAN - EUROPEAN - I

CARRIED - MY THINGS - YES

AMAZING - 'REMOVE - YOUR

THINGS' - HARM AND ABUSE

OF - WOMEN - BLEEDS - EA

MONTH - PREGNANT - 7 YRS

OR - 8 YRS - 4 YRS - 2 YEARS

LOVE - WHAT - USA - DOING

NO - MATTER - HOW - CUTE

EAU WOO CHA - HOW - WE

ARE - TREATED - HIS MANAGER

HIS - AGENCY - WHY - NO MORE

PRODUCING - BABIES - WHO US

NEED - FOOD - DRINK - & MORE

WHILE - MOM - IS - SLEEPING

BEING - RAISED - BY - MY YES

PERSONAL - MAID - TRAVEL'G

WORLDWIDE - WITH - HER - IS

JUST - WHAT - MONEY - CAN

BRING - INDEED - ANSWERS

ALL - WHEN - I - CHECK THE

MAIDS - BRITISH - ROYALTY

WOULDN'T - TRADE - MINE

ALWAYS - THERE - LOVING

WONDERFUL - LOYAL AND

FAITHFUL - KIND - SWEET

BEST - PORK - PHILIPPINE

ADOBO - CAN'T - WAIT TO

COOK - ABOVE - NOT - IN

MAKATI - YELLOW - LIKE

LET - MORNING - INSIDE

ANTS - DEAD - WITH SPRAY

RAID - KILLS ON CONTACT

LAVENDER - SCENT - IS SO

AWESOME - IF - NO - RAIN

WILL - LEAVE - HE's - YES

GUARDING - MY - THINGS

FORGOT - HIS - NAME HE

BEHIND - ME - 4 - MAIN

LIBRARY - CARPET - YES

BEING - REPLACED - HAI

LIGHTER - BRIGHTENS - THE

PLACE - MAKES - LARGER FL

LEAVING - SOON - 2 - DO THE

TENT - THROWING - OTHER

SABBATH - A - DELIGHT

RECEIVED - HOLY - YES

[greeds]

you know what? . *transforms into a bulbasaur and walks away*

[suzannahnatters]

Trope Talk #1: Enemies to Lovers: A Deeper Dive

Reports of my death have been exaggerated, but not greatly. While I was in bed for a week lately, roleplaying a Victorian invalid, I watched a YouTube doing a deep dive on the enemies to lovers trope. While it was really fun seeing her break down subtropes (hate to love, rivals to lovers, reluctant allies, villain romance, and more - all of which I adore), I found myself somewhat disappointed by her attempt to discuss the deeper issues surrounding the trope. Like, yes: a lot of people enjoy things in fiction that they would not enjoy IRL and mature readers CAN distinguish between fantasy and reality...but also the media we consume DOES shape us, not all readers ARE as mature as we'd like to think, and while this trope can be executed in a way that's not problematic, it can also be executed in a way that is. Even if we wouldn't all personally draw the line between toxic and healthy in precisely the same place, I think that line does objectively exist. So, here are some of the ways I've subjectively drawn that line in my personal writing and reading when it comes to this trope...

SOME WAYS OF DOING ETL RIGHT

1. Not everyone is going to agree as to what's healthy and what's not, and it's important to listen to others.

Some are going to be mad at me for loving this trope at all, and some are going to be mad at me for thinking that one still needs to exercise judgement and that not everything goes, but hear me out. As a writer, the harder you go with this trope, the more divided your audience will be. Given that we all tend to draw the lines in different places, I think that listening to each other and discussing the reasons behind our own preferences and choices is going to help all of us understand the stakes, avoid hurting or triggering readers who have trauma from toxic relationships, and extend grace to storytellers who don't make the same decisions we would. And we shouldn't be defensive that this is necessary. ETL is actually a fairly new and under-explored trope, which I think is part of why it can be so divisive, especially in a post-#MeToo landscape where a lot of us are starting to rethink the controlling men and helpless women in pairings we've been conditioned to see as romantic. Meanwhile, as an author with a deep love for this trope, I hope that posts like this will help more cautious readers to understand that writing about dark and spiky relationships doesn't necessarily mean romanticising abusive behaviour. Either way, I've benefited from listening in humility and I truly think my stories are better for it.

2. Remember that evil is not misunderstood.

If you'll be writing ETL, then you need to decide early on if the love interest is evil or just misunderstood, and be careful to write him accordingly and be honest about it. If the love interest literally goes around killing innocent people, deal with that. That's evil, that's not (just) a traumatic childhood. On the other hand, if the love interest is antagonistic because of a misunderstanding, but is a fundamentally decent person deep down, he probably wouldn't casually slap the heroine around or otherwise act like a jerk. One mistake I used to see a lot of writers making (less often these days) is trying to convince me that some loathsome jerk is just misunderstood. No, if he's been doing bad things, don't try to explain his guilt away. Confront it head on.

THE LAST JEDI was my gateway drug to ETL precisely because I'd never seen this trope done so beautifully and so uncompromisingly: when Rey is forced to face the fact that the boy she likes is unrepentantly evil, she refuses to join him, explodes him and gets out of there. Ben isn't ready to seek repentance yet; he's a proud, if wavering, villain. Because the movie was absolutely honest about the evil within Ben, I was able to genuinely hope Rey might confront that evil and exorcise it, instead of being gaslit into thinking it was all right.

By contrast, in the very Bluebeard-vibes kdrama MASK, the love interest believes he's responsible for the death of his late fiancee and is being manipulated by the villain into thinking he's criminally insane. As a result, he believes that he's going to kill the heroine, his new wife. Physical touch and dirt are both triggers for him, too, and what the audience sees as a trauma response comes across to the heroine as strong hostility. He tells the heroine he is going to kill her, and she believes him, but the truth is that he dreads it as much as she does. This is a really beautifully done form of misunderstanding. Just remember that to be believable, misunderstandings need to be resolved fairly quickly.

3. Enemies doesn't need to mean hatred or toxicity.

While hate to love is a valid subtrope - especially in contexts where the characters aren't literally trying to kill each other, like in a contemporary romcom - ETL does NOT need to involve toxicity. There's a difference between ordering the assassination of an enemy, versus strangling your wife to terrorise her into obedience; both are bad, but only the latter is classic domestic violence, which casts doubt on any "HEA". Enemies need not hate or even abuse each other to be at odds; they may feel deep personal respect for a worthy opponent, who just happens to be ideologically committed to an opposing cause and therefore duty bound to antagonise the other. Personally, these characters may like, respect, or even passionately love each other - but thanks to duty, they're obliged to thwart each other.

A favourite example of this is Nikita and Michael from the spy show NIKITA. The pair started out as master and pupil before becoming coworkers for a rogue government agency, Division. Now Nikita has gone rogue herself and is working to bring down Division. She knows that Michael is still hanging in there for several reasons - he still believes Division serves his country, he's been skilfully manipulated by the head of the agency, and above all he feels the need to protect Division's young agents who are increasingly exploited by them. Nikita still has respect for Michael because of all these things and because he's the man who trained her to be as awesome as she is - and because she's his best student, Michael returns the sentiment and still goes out of his way to protect her, even as he's trying to hunt her down. Midway through the season, Nikita tries to protect Michael by preventing him from taking out the man who once killed his family - at which point Michael's view of Nikita sours. But she never stops respecting him and he's still willing to work with her when necessary to protect his agents. Throw in some mad chemistry and you've got the ingredients for a perfect ETL situation - although it has some hostility from Michael's side, it's never without that solid core of care and respect for each other. This is what makes the romance work, of course; all romances need a good reason for the character to care about each other. 

4. Remember that ETL is a fundamentally transformative relationship.

This builds on my first point. In ETL, unless there's a valid misunderstanding at play, there are probably moral/ethical differences between the characters. Thus, a huge part of your romance needs to be about resolving those differences, usually for the better. In other words (unless you're really into a corruption arc for the protagonist), the villainous/antagonistic character needs to genuinely repent and change, and we need that change to be demonstrated convincingly in story. At this stage, then, a good ETL story becomes about character growth, which means that it cannot be rushed. If the love interest has genuinely been evil, then he needs to change and prove it.

LOVE BETWEEN FAIRY AND DEVIL is a great example of a transformative ETL story. At the beginning of the drama, Dongfang Qingcang is a terrifying evil overlord who has frozen his emotions, killed his own father to rise to power, mastered hellfire magic and terrorised the three realms. As the story unfolds we do learn that there are some misunderstandings: Dongfang's father is the one who destroyed his emotions and forced him as a child to kill him, as well as instilling in him the fear that his people will be destroyed unless he conquers their enemies. But, this doesn't make Dongfang's villainy okay. Even after his emotions have been reawoken by our adorable heroine he still needs to realise that invading her homeland is not the right way to say thank you. By the end of the story we see that Dongfang is indeed a changed overlord. It takes a while, but it is believable.

5. Related, the characters should be a match for each other, especially when it comes to power and to morals.

I think a lot of the objections to ETL and villain romance pairings come from a perceived mismatch between the two characters: a weak person with a stronger person, or a pure and good person with a despicable manipulative blackguard. I think that it's always a good idea to balance this out. If your story begins with the love interest kidnapping your heroine to be his queen, why not let your heroine run a coup and replace him on the throne - right when he least expects it? The fact that your heroine is willing to get her hands dirty when it comes to this antagonist is not just delicious drama - it's also evidence that the two of them have more in common than they might think, and that in a longterm relationship she won't have any problems standing up to him. Alternately, if your heroine is going to remain pure and good throughout, she should probably be a match for the villain in terms of power, however that is measured in your story (and it can be a totally different sort of power than the villain wields). One of the most delicious things when watching any villain fall in love is finding the one woman whom he's absolutely helpless before.

I think Holly Black did this really well in the FOLK OF THE AIR trilogy. At first, Jude is a powerless mortal in the deadly fae court, and Cardan is the fae prince who delights in tormenting her. Jude proves herself far more cunning and ruthless than Cardan as she maneuvers the two of them into power as reluctant allies. It's clear that what Jude lacks in magic she makes up for in sharp intelligence and will to survive, and her ability to find a happy ending hinges on her ability to let down her guard and be vulnerable to Cardan. On the other end of the scale, Beauty and the Beast in most of its incarnations is about two kind people who want different things for sympathetic reasons, so that even though Beauty is held captive by the Beast we can understand the Beast's desperation to break his curse (and the Disney animated classic makes his motivations even more sympathetic by imposing a rapidly narrowing window of opportunity in which to do so). The Beast is truly gentle, and Belle is just spirited enough to snap back at him when he snaps at her. Both these stories work because the lovers are fundamentally a match.

6. Be creative.

There are all sorts of ways to create that delicious see-saw between "I adore you" and "I am going to kill you". The kdrama THE MASK, as mentioned above, uses the hero's mental health in an incredibly respectful way to create a sense of antagonism. The kdrama FLOWER OF EVIL does something similar. In Megan Spooner's absolutely incendiary SHERWOOD, there's a scene where the love interest goes from nearly killing the protagonist to tenderly embracing and caring for her within the very same chapter. Normally this would be the red flag to end all red flags, but it doesn't work that way here. How did Spooner manage it? Simple. The love interest doesn't know that the outlaw Robin Hood, whom he's trying to capture, is actually the same person as Maid Marian, the fair lady he's in love with - and when a quick costume change takes our heroine from one persona to another, the love interest's behaviour changes too. The emotional rollercoaster is real - but only for her.

7. There doesn't need to be a HEA.

I know, a lot of you are going to be up in arms about this, but it's true. Sometimes, especially in a straight up villain romance, the villain shouldn't get the girl. Maybe that's because she wants someone else, maybe it's because he's too manipulative and evil to be convincing as a long term relationship. But, let me frame it like this: why limit yourself just to writing the viable romances? There's a lot of good fun that can be got out of unviable romances too. You may not feel comfortable settling down with the villain, but that doesn't mean he can't be kissed :3

For example, in THE RINGS OF POWER the showrunners did something I never expected and gave Sauron himself a little crush on his greatest nemesis, Galadriel. The final episode, as he revealed his true identity and did his level best to manipulate her into joining him to rule Middle Earth, put joy into the souls of fangirls everywhere. It also caused a whole lot of people to clutch their pearls for some reason which remains opaque to me. After all, Tolkien was the man who wrote Eol, Maeglin, Wormtongue, and that moment when Morgoth himself was perving on Luthien Tinuviel. That aside, this is never going to be a viable match. Galadriel is married and hates Sauron's guts and Sauron is still a manipulative snake whose plans for healing Middle Earth involve him ruling as its lord and master, hopefully with Galadriel at his side. Galadriel doesn't fall for it for a second, which is one of the very things that makes this kind of story so incredibly satisfying to me. The fact that she won't succumb to his manipulation and temptation is incredibly empowering. As in THE LAST JEDI, the ball is in Sauron's court as to whether he changes to deserve her. And of course he won't - not just because he goes on to become the Lord of the Rings of Barad-dûr but more importantly because he never loved Galadriel for who she is but because of the way she made him feel, powerful and purposeful.

Not all villain romances need to end this way, of course, because some villains are capable of change. I think this is what makes Reylo viable where Haladriel is not. While Sauron and Galadriel each appeal to the EVIL in each other, Rey appeals to the good in Ben; he meanwhile desires the Light in her. This is why her refusal does ultimately prompt him to change, although of course the story's resolution was massively bungled in THE RISE OF SKYWALKER.

8. Love should be what the villain needs - but not what he wants.

It's hard to make absolute rules when it comes to any artistic choice, but this is probably the closest I come when dealing with this trope: because there should be consequences for the love interest's misdeeds, especially when it comes to the heroine. I call this the POTO rule: if the love interest wants the heroine romantically or sexually abuses her, he should not be rewarded by getting her. Enemies to lovers may fight over anything by any means, but not over romantic or sexual possession of each other. If the villain becomes a villain in order to possess the heroine, then a HEA for them involves giving him exactly what he wanted and thereby justifying his bad behaviour. Mind you, this doesn't mean the love interest can never want the heroine on some level; if he did not then this would not be a romance. We're talking about his most fundamental motivation and his most important story goal. She should not be either of them; she should be a distraction, an impediment to them.

This is simply good writing sense. Enemies to lovers normally implies a positive change arc for the love interest. Every good positive change arc involves a character who Wants one thing, say, to rule the world; but Needs something totally different - the capacity to make peace through compassion, say.  Such characters may or may not get what they Want, depending on how good it is for them and the people around them, but they'll always get what they Need. This is why I think ETL works best when the heroine herself is the thing the antagonist doesn't know he Needs. As an enemy, and even more so if he's a villain, he's likely to be unscrupulous in getting what he Wants, and he shouldn't get her for the same reasons that characters often don't get what they Want. Think about it: the villain probably needs some hard consequences for what he's done. He can get them, *and also get the girl*, but only as long as the girl isn't the motivation for his crimes.

{How does this fit with the "stolen bride" genre of story, usually a fairytale? Do I disapprove of those on principle? Mm, no. If the bride was stolen primarily because the kidnapper claimed to have a romantic or sexual attraction to her, I might object. But there's usually some other motivation. He wants to break a curse; he wants to annex her kingdom; he wants to keep her out of his enemies' hands; he might have been ordered to marry her by someone he dares not cross, or bound by an ancient custom; in any case he ought not to be personally motivated to control or possess her. This is one of those grey areas where lines blur and it's wise to listen and be careful because so many real women have been trapped in marriages to real live villains; but the thing is very doable under the right circumstances.} 

I call this the POTO rule because it was inspired by THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA. In this story, Erik is obsessed with Christine to the point where romantic and sexual possession of her drives everything he does. He kills, manipulates, and gaslights everyone at the Paris Opera in an attempt to win Christine's heart, and ultimately he's willing to threaten to kill the man Christine truly loves in order to get the thing he Wants: Christine's hand in marriage. Now, I know a lot of you ship this pairing and I'm not going to scold you for it; maybe you ship them the way I ship Haladriel, loving the relationship without thinking it should end in a HEA, or perhaps you think Christine can fix Erik through some genuinely transformative plotline, or maybe you just want Erik to get what he wants even though it's messed up, and whatever it is I hope you have fun with it. But personally, from the perspective of a published author with a sense of responsibility to my readers, I really think the story ended in the best possible way. Erik doesn't get what he Wants (Christine) but he does get what he Needs (a transformative moment of transcendent compassion that enables him to act in a truly loving manner, by letting Christine go).

So, most of the time, I think it's wisest if the heroine is what the love interest doesn't know he Needs. Again, LOVE BETWEEN FAIRY AND DEVIL does this SO well. Dongfang Qingcang doesn't have time for love - emotionless and too busy Evil Overlording, he's never been in love before. So, when he's saddled with an adorable, dimwitted flower fairy, he can't wait to break the spell that links them together so that he can kill her and get on with his villainous plans. When her emotions begin to infect him, he can't help falling in love with her, even though he fights it every single step of the way. She's absolutely not what he Wants, but she is everything he Needs to thaw his frozen heart and teach him to act with compassion and empathy. Even though he spends much of the series planning to kill her, the HEA doesn't strike me as being Problematique the way that an Erik/Christine HEA would be - because a HEA with Orchid represents the moral growth that Dongfang needs, rather than the selfish desire he wants.

9. Maybe the villain's HEA is with someone else.

This doesn't mean a villain is irredeemable or shouldn't get a HEA. It just might mean that his HEA is with someone else. (Unless he's actually a rapist. Then just light the man on fire.) Erik shouldn't get Christine because he's done so much evil in order to possess her. But, once she's broken through to him to show him compassion, he might be ready to learn to love and to make amends for his past crimes...perhaps with someone else.

This was a huge part of the inspiration for the character of Vasily in my Bête Epoque stories. He does something which traumatises the heroine so much, there's no realistic HEA for them. Like Christine, she forgives him anyway, even in the midst of betrayal. And like Erik, he finds he's unable to go through with his villainous plans. She gets her HEA with somebody else, but I found myself with this incredibly compelling character whom a lot of people were pulling for. Vasily has already learned a huge lesson through having loved and lost my first heroine - so when he meets my second heroine, even though in a lot of ways he's still a treacherous monster, he's able to start afresh, and do better, with someone far more resilient who holds far greater power over him.

10. Individual characters will need individual things.

Finally, I think it's necessary to use judgement based on the individual characters and what they need. This is another reason why it's so difficult to make hard and fast rules here. For instance, I said that if the enemy sexually assaults the heroine he should forgo any hope of a HEA with her. But I think we've all seen romances that involve, say, some dubiously consensual kissing, which we can understand the kissee forgiving. By the same token, the act which disqualifies my character Vasily from his first HEA is not sexual assault but something which is coded that way within the story world, and experienced that way by the heroine (vampire bite). The fact that it's not literally sexual assault is what makes it possible for Vasily to get a romantic second chance, but the fact that it is figurative sexual assault is one of the main things that decided me against a HEA the first time. So, I think that whether you're a writer or reader, it's important to exercise judgement based not just on the things that are obvious, but also on less obvious things like the characters' specific needs, the thematic symbolism of the story world, and more.

--

So those are my best ETL writing guidelines - and again, this is only what works for me! I think it's really hard to make hard and fast rules for any artistic work, but from thinking about what works for me and what doesn't, these are some of the lines I've drawn for myself. If you're reading this, I hope it provokes some helpful thoughts :-)