#then i could not recommend it more highly

[keferon]

“I've done something wrong again. It's not moving.”

There was a lot of stuff spread out in front of him. Old spare parts, pieces of armor, tools. Lots of warped plates.

And his creation. A real golem. An entity woven of metal and magic.

Shockwave walked around the table and stopped right above the head of the figure lying on it

“Golems exist to serve, my friend. It won't move unless you ask it to.”

Orion clutched his servos. The figure remained stone still. There was no ventilation noise, no engine sound, not even the barely audible spinning of a spark. It could just as easily have been a long-cooled dead body lying in front of him.

“Wake up.”

___________________

Magical Golem Prowl anyone? ‘,:) This story exists in the same universe as Spellbound au. and Monster hunter au and ties them together so I highly recommend you read all of them.

The fic under the cut⤵️

He seemed to be nothing.

The emptiness that infinitely defined his nonexistent self bounced off the metal plates and glinted in the droplets of still-warm energon. He was nothing, but there was so much around him that the space was like an infinite buzz of cluttered noise. The voices above him sounded excited. The metal slab beneath him was cold and hard.

“Good. Now you need to put a piece of your armor on this. Somewhere it will be in plain sight and easily reachable.”

“Oh...wouldn't it make more sense to hide it under the armor? I mean, it's an obvious weak point.”

He idly thought, his hands felt numb.

“No no, that's the whole point. You're using an artifact you haven't fully studied and you don't know exactly how it's going to turn out. If it goes crazy and becomes dangerous, you should have an easy way to destroy it. Where's the artifact by the way?”

The tinkling of metal.

The sound of a crystal clattering against armor.

Warm hands on his head.

“Here.”

“Excellent. Now. This will be the base on which the entire spell will be held, so you want to hide this artifact very well and secure it carefully so it doesn't break by mistake.”

Did he have hands too? He was nothing, why did he have hands? It didn't make sense.

Orion took a couple steps away from the table and stood pensively.

“I've done something wrong again. It's not moving.”

There was a lot of stuff spread out in front of him. Old spare parts, pieces of armor, tools. Lots of warped plates.

And his creation. A real golem. An entity woven of metal and magic.

Shockwave, hitherto distracted by an almost invisible spot on his shoulderplate, glanced leisurely over Orion's shoulder

“Golems don't need much to function. You made a good shell. The magical structure is strong as well, I see.”

Orion hesitantly pointed to the golem's forehead, decorated with a neat sharp chevron.

“I added some things that weren't in your instructions and I think I made a mistake somewhere.”

“Golem making is a complex skill, don't give up if it doesn't work right awa...you know what, actually no, you did everything right.”

Orion shrugged in frustration.

“Then why won't it move?”

Shockwave walked around the table and stopped right above the head of the figure lying on it

“ Golems exist to serve, my friend. It won't move unless you ask it to.”

Orion walked back over to the table with a quiet “oh” and nervously clutched his servos. The figure remained stone still. There was no ventilation noise, no engine sound, not even the barely audible spinning of a spark. It could just as easily have been a long-cooled dead body lying in front of him.

“Wake up.”

The emptiness that forever defined his nonexistent self stammered. He wasn't nothing. He had a purpose and that purpose shaped him, put strength into his numb limbs and molded his lack of thought into naked intent.

He wasn't nothing. He was a void, but suddenly that void had a direction, no matter how meaningless it sounded.

He stopped being just nothing. He became his purpose. And it felt so right that it was unclear how he could ever have been anything else before.

He opened his optics.

Orion, who apparently hadn't expected that the thing he'd made specifically for it to move would move, jerked back with a funny sound.

On the opposite side, Shockwave nodded proudly, returning to the spot on his armor that even in the bright lights of the workshop only he could see.

“I believed in you.”

_________

“Oh my god! How do you sneak up on me so quietly every time?”

He wasn't nothing anymore. He was a whole long list of instructions and rules. His creator sat him down at a table and meticulously listed everything he could and could not do. Handed him many books and ordered him to attend a huge number of lectures. He now knew who to bow to if he passed them in the hallway and who to avoid. He had learned hundreds of names and thousands of titles. Learned how to pretend to be a real Mech, even though he wasn't.

The world around him was complex and confusing, but he found that this complexity had its own patterns, linked together in a bizarre web of systems and sequences. It was worth pulling on the right end, and the meaningless facts organized themselves into something much more manageable.

Everything made sense. The planet revolved around a star. Mechs rejoiced when they got something that improved their quality of life. Energon burned, producing energy. Big things tended to be heavier than small things.

The world was divided into Mechs and monsters...and him.

He was inclined to be...quiet.

His creator - he'd asked to be called Orion - twitched when he found his creation standing right behind him.

He was very talented at finding Orion wherever he was. And very light compared to most things his size. Like everything else it made sense. He wasn't a Mech, he was just an empty shell. An armor summoned to life by magic. His footsteps were as quiet as a mini bot's. Whatever Orion called it, he wasn't 'sneaking' on purpose.

A few cycles later, Orion accidentally bent one of its finals when he turned around too quickly, startled by the quiet footsteps behind him.

He named him Prowl. It was...not exactly logical, but there was a certain sense to it. Prowl nodded and agreed. He always agreed with everything Orion said, even if it didn't make sense at all. Orion's opinion took a higher priority than anything else.

Until it didn't.

Until Orion gave him a focused look and told him that he should argue if he thought it was necessary.

Until Orion put the servo on his shoulder and said something along the lines of....

“You can disagree with me if you think my opinion is wrong. I'm not asking you to go against me. I'm not perfect and I can't be the one absolute point of reference for everything. You can and I'm sure will be smarter than me about many things. I want you to tell me if I'm wrong and what I should do about it.”

Like…well….like an absolute fool.

This concept was new. Prowl wasn't built to argue. He was made to obey orders and to serve a function.

Orion smiled slyly. At least it was probably a smile behind his mask that made the corners of his optics lift.

“It wouldn't be considered a disobedience of my order if I ordered you to disobey it. Don't you think?”

Prowl opened his mouth to agree out of habit, but then changed his mind mid-motion and closed it back. It...it didn't make sense. It made sense that was breaking under its own weight. It was mercilessly mixing up all of his pre-learned patterns for talking to Orion. If he agreed with that logic now, it would mean accepting its use. If he protested, it would also mean accepting it, but in a bit more embarrassing way. Just when he was thinking of simply retreating silently to the nearest shadow and banging his head against the wall, he heard a quiet chuckle and realized that Orion had been amusing himself for some time now, watching him struggle.

Prowl decided that verbal responses might be overrated and frowned his face in the most believable expression of displeasure he could portray.

Orion broke out into laughter.

________

“What exactly is my goal?”

Orion looks. Curious. He stops talking to Shockwave and leans back on the bench.

“Right now, to study these journals. I already told you.”

Prowl nods to indicate he heard him and continues

“Studying serves a future purpose. Studying for the sake of studying would be meaningless to me. What is my final goal?”

“To assist me” Orion says slightly confused. ”Within the best of your ability of course.“”

“Аh. Assist in the fulfillment of your goal.”

“Well. I'd say so, yes.”

Prowl nods

“And what is your goal?”

Shockwave, who has been sitting next to them the whole time looks like they're a couple of previously unknown to science species he's just personally discovered.

Prowl ignores him.

“I...you remember the separation between Mechs and monsters, right?” asks Orion cautiously.

“Yes.”

“Mechs...are unfair to monsters. Monsters are cruel to Mechs. It's a needlessly violent situation that I want to...try to. Fix.”

Prowl frowns to indicate that the information isn't completely clear.

“You're a member of the order of hunters. And...” he shakes his head toward the nearest window ”...you have a considerable number of hunters under your command. Your job involves destroying monsters.”

Shockwave makes some sort of quiet amused sound and props his chin up with his hand.

Prowl ignores him harder.

“My job is to bring peace.” says Orion “You don't have to kill monsters to do that. You can negotiate with them. Find a compromise. Coexist. I...I guess basically, I'm trying to make the world a little better?”

Prowl doesn't look impressed. He's actually making a special effort to not let Orion think in any way that he might be intrigued by the whole endeavor.

“You do realize that's a disproportionately large goal for just one Mech, right?”

Orion shrugs awkwardly

“That's why I made you.”

__________

Ratchet puts aside his tools and critically examines his work.

“Don't touch that and it will heal normally.”

Orion smiles gratefully

“Thank you.”

Ratchet is important to Orion. They are close and very valuable friends to each other. The two of them look peaceful now, despite the fact that Ratchet threatened Orion when he first showed up in Sick Bay, so Prowl decides it would be a socially acceptable moment to start talking

“Orion, you're wanted at the Council.”

The second half of his line is drowned helplessly in two startled exclamations at once. Orion, to his honor, calms down almost immediately, but Ratchet continues cursing for a while.

Prowl doesn't wait for him to finish. The Council meeting is earlier than usual today and Orion has already had a few occasions of misbehavior. It's in his best interest to at least show up on time this time.

“Shockwave asked me to tell you to hurry. I will add that showing up at the last minute will not be good for your reputation if you are still hoping to convince the council to let you take more units.”

Ratchet .....stares.

“Primus' rusty hinges, Orion, who's that? Did they assign a nanny to you?”

Orion twitches his finals playfully and immediately crinkles in pain, remembering that one of them should have been left to heal.

“Remember when I wanted to find an assistant? Well...”

Ratchet casts an increasingly more suspicious look at Prowl. Prowl decides that friendliness is overrated and limits his expression to a barely perceptible tilt of his head in response.

“...Shockwave recently helped me figure out how to create golems and I figured if I couldn't find anyone I could trust, I might as well...make one. So. Ratchet meet Prowl.” finishes Orion awkwardly.

Ratchet glares at Prowl for a while longer. Then he turns away and starts tidying up Sick Bay.

“I'm not buying it. I don't know where you found this guy, but you're not playing me. Nice poker face by the way.”

One of Prowl's wings twitches

“He wasn't lying.”

Ratchet snorts grumpily.

“Those...” he waves toward the next room ”...are golems.

There, behind the wall, several golems scurry around. They have medical staff symbols painted on their shoulders, and there is not a trace of thought in their eyes. Two are scrubbing the floors, another wiping the shelves and window sills clean of dust. They occasionally mumble softly under their noses or utter an inane “excuse me” every time they accidentally bump into each other. Prowl knows that if you ask any of them a question with more than one variable, they start babbling guiltily and shrugging their shoulders. They're stupid, but they themselves don't seem to care about that at all. They are their purpose. And their purpose is to keep things clean. They are pride because they are good at their job.

Prowl frowns. He's a headache. Because his "purpose" has been distracted by his conversation with Ratchet and will probably add another tardy to his list in the near future.

Orion begins (thank goodness) to move toward the door

“I've made improvements. There might have been...some not exactly allowed artifacts.”

Ratchet rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly. Prowl can see that his face is already starting to wrinkle in that spot. Patient antics probably age Ratchet far more effectively than the passage of time itself.

“I...you know what...go before the Council sends a search party to look for you.”

Orion sighs and without further distraction finally walks out the door.

Prowl decides that Ratchet might be a good ally when it comes to managing Orion.

He nods politely goodbye before leaving.

______________

“I am different from them. Why?”

Orion puts down the document he's been working on and looks first at Prowl and then, over his head, at the other golems scurrying down the hallway with brooms and rags. He doesn't need to interject exactly who he thinks Prowl is different from.

“Do you want a philosophical answer or a technical one?”

Prowl reaches out and pokes somewhere in Orion's document

“ You missed a comma. Both.”

Orion obediently puts the comma in and folds up the document. His finals are twitching faintly. It could be a sign of concentration as well as distraction. Prowl has already figured out that Orion's body language is a double-bottom trap. For a Mech with this level of expressiveness, Orion is surprisingly difficult to read.

“Sometime quite a while ago during one of my expeditions, I found a unique artifact. A fascinating item, granting wisdom to anyone brave enough to use it.”

“I have a feeling a ‘but’ is coming.”

“You're right. The artifact's unique gift was also its curse. It fed so much information through the Mech's heads that it literally caused the processors of its owners to melt.”

“Oh. Good thing I don't have a processor then.”

Orion laughs quietly

“Indeed. You won't have that problem. And about the other part....Think of all the Mechs you know who are savvy enough about politics and available to work together at the moment.”

Orion gives him a moment before continuing.

“ What is the likelihood that the most trustworthy of them would betray me, for their own gain or out of fear?”

“ Twenty-eight percent,” Prowl informs.

And then hesitates a moment.

Orion is obviously a smart Mech. Not smart enough to single-handedly dominate the political arena, definitely not with his ideals and ideas of what's right. But smart enough to realize it. He knows what he wants and he also knows he can't achieve it alone.

Prowl looks at Orion, who just stands there, eyeing him, without in any way trying to continue the conversation.

Orion is idealistic, and therefore often mistaken for stupid. He isn't. Orion doesn't just know that he can't succeed alone, he knows that everyone else knows it too. He thinks this knowledge will be used against him when the opportunity arises. He's right. By Prowl's count, at least three suspiciously clever Mechs were going to sweet-talk their way into becoming Orion's assistant one way or another before... he appeared.

One of the janitor golems runs past them down the corridor. He doesn't turn around, doesn't even slow down or cast a curious glance. His only goal, his only interest is cleaning. The rest of the world might as well not exist at all.

Prowl thinks he's not that different.

Orion apparently reads the understanding from his face, because he nods contentedly and starts walking further down the hall.

“You didn't take yourself into account when you made the statistics, did you?”

Prowl follows him silently on his heels. Not close enough to be familiar, but not so far away that the conversation stops being private.

“The sampling condition was all mechs. I am not one.”

“That's true” Orion shrugs “You have no loved ones that the Council could use to influence you. You have no desires to be bought by their fulfillment. And while I cannot say with absolute certainty that you will never be capable of going against me...” Prowl starts to open his mouth to object but Orion gestures him to stop, “...no no no no, let me finish. And while I can't be sure you'll never betray me, I at least know for sure that before you met me you had no reason to do so. Do you understand?”

Prowl understands. It makes sense. He still feels the need to argue back, because it is part of his function to do that.

“I would never betray you. I'm not capable of it.”

Orion twitches his finals. Without seeing his face Prowl assumes it is a sign of doubt.

“You are a creature of intellect, Prowl. I am a Mech of ideals. Those two things don't always combine well.”

______

“Foolish and presumptuous.”

Prowl ponders that his function could be much easier if he didn't have to constantly try to balance what is right and what is right in Orion's eyes.

“If you were spotted, the Council would have good reason to assume this isn't the first time you've done something like this.”

“No one noticed,” Orion tries, but Prowl doesn't let him finish that thought

“No one has seen you, because you're lucky. You can't count on it being a permanent occurrence! You undermine your own position by giving the Council grounds for suspicion, you...”

Prowl stops, still pointing his finger accusingly somewhere on Orion's chin. Shockwave, who has witnessed the scene, makes an impressed face and steps closer.

“I swear, you're probably the most capable golem maker I've ever had the pleasure of teaching, Orion. If I hadn't seen that guy on your assembly table, I would never know.”

Prowl takes the statement as a compliment, but doesn't feel the need to show it outwardly. Shockwave, as one of the few who knows about him not being a real Mech, doesn't take offense to it in any way.

“Did I interrupt something dramatic?”

Prowl snorts, because the gesture maintains just the right amount of judgment for his situation.

“Orion is once again harboring a monster instead of killing it or letting it escape.”

This news immediately enlivens Shockwave's posture. Prowl knows he's an even bigger fan of collecting suspicious side projects than Orion. Their friendship, frankly, will one day bury either one or both of them. Prowl just hopes his presence will be enough to sway the percentages when that happens.

Orion doesn't try to deny anything.

“One of my squads encountered a ghost near the northern border. I couldn't... listen Shockwave, he's a good guy. He just needs to be given a chance to show it.”

“Can he talk?” there's almost visible stars in Shockwave's eyes..

Prowl slumps his shoulders helplessly, already knowing what's coming next. These two have done this dance a hundred times before. One of Shockwave's favorite side projects was a school for, as they called them, magically gifted and extraordinary Mechs. In fact, it was the largest den of various monsters that Prowl had ever seen. Every time Orion's hunting squads found a monster that could even remotely resemble a normal Mech, Orion would rush with happy optics to hand it over to Shockwave for care. There, the monsters were taught everything they needed to fit into the society of normal Mechs, but more importantly, they were given documents. Precious pieces of paper that granted their holders rights, freedoms, and protections as Shockwave's apprentices.

Prowl could appreciate the noble endeavor. He could also see clearly that with each addition, this school would become more and more of an inconvenient thorn in the Council's side. Just like Orion, Shockwave was happy to paint a brighter and brighter target on his own back for many cycles.

Orion, insensitive to danger that is not immediate, cheerfully begins to recite

“Can read, write, speak, even makes music.”

Shockwave nods happily

“Introduce us?”

Prowl wonders how far Shockwave can stretch the definition of “magically gifted Mech”. One day Orion will pick up a Kraken on the street and then they'll both probably have to do a lot of mental gymnastics to make it's documents. Ugh.

When Orion had asked him to calculate the probability of betrayal, the most reliable mech he was evaluating at the time was Shockwave.

Twenty-eight percent...

Prowl wonders how many students must be on the opposite side of the scale from Orion for Shockwave to choose in their favor. Speculation is actually useless. If the Council decides to nail Shockwave, they will of course use his entire school at once.

In fact, they probably won't even have to force Shockwave to choose between the school and Orion, because Orion himself will choose a bunch of monsters over himself.

This ridiculously dangerous social construct they call friendship rests entirely on their reputation as honest and honorable mechs. Prowl stares at Shockwave's back and wonders how one mech could have so much charisma, that he gets away with keeping a huge number of Council enemies right under the noses of that same Council.

_________________

Orion gently lifts the now graying shell of what was once a monster from the ground

He doesn't even turn toward Prowl.

"Did you kill him?"

Killing...it's a stretch. Does the act of helping a murderer qualify as murder? Or the lack of action that could have saved the now murdered person? In most cultures and languages, “murder” refers to the act of ending someone else's life, but the context implies a physical act. Did you put a knife in his back? Did you push him off a cliff? Did you cut him with a sword?

By those criteria. Well. Prowl never killed anyone. Nor is he likely to, for he has neither the skill nor the strength to do so.

Did he cause death? Absolutely.

Orion's always had this heroic streak that wouldn't let him just pass by the distressed and disadvantaged. Orion has always had a great spark of kindness and principles as strong as titanium alloy as to what is right and what is wrong.

In Orion's world view, murder is wrong. And murder in conditions where it was possible to solve everything by peace is immoral and unacceptable.

Prowl's worldview tells him that Orion could do much better if he stopped wasting his potential on helping those who will only drag him down in the long run. Orion's life depends entirely on the Council's opinion of him. A Council that has been watching him closely lately. Even if Orion doesn't like it, it's Prowl's job to make sure they like what they see.

Orion turns to him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

"Prowl. That mech tried to escape. Past you. And now he's dead. Were you the one who killed him?"

"No," says Prowl, "he ran into one of the patrols."

That statement is missing a good half of the details. Like mentioning that the patrol wouldn't have been there in the first place if Prowl hadn't sent them an anonymous lead.

Orion doesn't need to know that. Orion lives under the idea that every life is precious and, even more inconveniently, equal.

Prowl sometimes feels like yelling at him for it. Because that shiny perfect picture is simply unsustainable outside of Orion's head. The monster, whose graying body now lies on the ground, would be of little use to society. Likely left free, he would have simply continued to attack and kill travelers.

Whereas Orion spends his life making the world a better place. This is an objective fact confirmed by numerous observations.

They are not equals. And they probably never will be. Orion's life is much. Much heavier on the imaginary scales of statistics.

Orion squints at him suspiciously. He's clearly hesitant.

"You could have just let him go instead of killing him."

The trap is honestly too obvious.

"I didn't kill him" Prowl repeats "he ran into a patrol. You can't blame the hunters for doing their job."

Orion places a hand on the dead creature's forehead in a respectful gesture of regret while simultaneously averting his gaze. It's a habit by now.

Look the other way, don't let the council know what you're doing. Sympathize but not in plain sight, help but in secret.

"They had no right to attack him.This is neutral territory. He has the right to run wherever he wants."

Prowl's mouth is twisting with the urge to argue. To say that according to existing information, this monster would have just continued the attacks if he'd stayed free.

He says nothing. Orion is clearly in no mood to argue right now, and he's already questioning Prowl's claim. It's not worth pushing any further.

Prowl only nods, showing that he's heard Orion's point of view.

__________________

He is surprisingly good at lying.

Of course the skill doesn't just come naturally, but he's been known for his straightforwardness. Mechs automatically expect him to either remain silent or tell the unpleasant truth.

All he has to do is give only certain bits and pieces instead of coherent information without changing his usual behavior in any way and the mechs won't be inclined to verify it, filling in the gaps themselves. As a golem, he can't lie, but he can get others to lie to themselves.

He exploits this a lot. Probably more often than Orion would approve, but Prowl doesn't ask him to confirm. Conversations with Orion tend to narrow down his list of options. Because Orion is a real living mech. With a spark. With feelings. And his complex moral code revolves entirely around what he feels to be right.

Prowl has no spark. Prowl has an empty armor that he considers his body and a wisdom artifact that he considers his worth. Both his and Orion's understandings of what is right...overlap...sometimes.

Not always.

______________

"I saw a demon in person for the first time today."

Prowl politely shifts his posture to show he's listening

"A …demon?"

"Demon" Orion repeats "When...when a mech commits especially terrible crimes against the will of Primus, the very magic of their spark rises up against them and turns them into a demon. And I just learned today what a...demon looks like."

Prowl remains silent, waiting for a continuation that never comes. Orion seems gone in his thoughts....

"And what does it look like?" prompts Prowl.

"Creepy. It looks creepy and unnatural and terrifying. Primus' wrath has a very ugly shape..."

"Ah...I see...what did that mech do to be met with such punishment?"

Orion frowns

"I'm not sure. But what we're doing can't go against Primus' will, right? I mean, all beings are his creations! He can't condemn us for trying to make peace between mechs and monsters..."

Prowl is familiar with the concept of punishment for wrongdoing. But something about the very idea...the idea that punishment will find you no matter how well you hide because you can’t run away from your own spark...he has to admit it's disturbing.

"I hope he doesn't."

——————————

Thoughts?👁

Ahsjfjfj

This is the first half of the fic btw because I don’t have enough time to translate the whole thing in one day. I’ll try to post the second half tomorrow🤞

[smolbeanie1221]

I wanna check out a bunch of these. One I have read! Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobab is very good and I highly recommend it. Eir story is very well written and I could relate to quite a few things e talked about, and the art is wonderful as well. Eir book is available on kindle! (Or at least it was a few years ago when I bought eir book. So maybe check on kindle and other ebook platforms for the others, I usually find kindle books are cheaper than paper books.) E also talks about being asexual in eir book, another thing I could relate to em about. Plus if you hadn’t noticed, e goes by e/em/eirs pronouns which is always wonderful to see in a sort of “real life” way, instead of only seeing those and other pronouns in bios or in a more statistic way. Anyways definitely check out eir book, really good book.

A local organization here has released a list of books that they feel are imperative to have in the time ahead. The list was not easily shareable, so I copy-pasted it here.

There is no need to read all of these, but one thing you can do that takes little effort is call your library and see if they have them in stock.

If you are moneyed, you can buy some copies and put them in little free libraries.

EDUCATING FOR ADVOCACY BOOK LIST

All books are written by authors from that culture

BOOKS FOR ADULTS

(2024) Be a Revolution: How Everyday People are Fighting Oppression and Changing the World - and How You Can, Too by Ijeoma Oluo

Each chapter discusses how someone is advocating for oppressed populations

and has examples of how others can do the same or similar.

(2024) The Message by Ta-Nehisi Coates

The author travels to Senegal, South Carolina and Palestine and grapples with deep questions and emotions.

(2023) Better Living Through Birding: Notes From a Black Man in the Natural World by Christian Cooper

A memoir of a Black man learning to claim space for himself and others like him.

(2022) Myth America: Historians Take On the Biggest Legends and Lies about Our Past Edited by Kevin M. Kruse and Julian E. Zelizer

The title explains it so well.

(2022) South to America: A Journey Below the Mason Dixon to Understand the Soul of a Nation by Imani Perry

History, rituals, and landscapes of the American South and why they must be understand it in order to understand America.

(2022) Memphis by Tara M. Stringfellow

Tells the story of 3 generations of a Southern Black family in Memphis.

(2021) How the Word is Passed: A Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America by Clint Smith

An exploration of important monuments and landmarks in the USA that show

how slavery has been foundational in the development and history of our country.

(2021) The Sum of Us: What Racism Costs Everyone and How We Can Prosper Together by Heather McGhee

The title explains it.

(2021) The Seed Keeper by Diane Wilson

Historical fiction telling the story of several generations of a Dakota family

(2020) The Good Immigrant: 26 Writers Reflect on America edited by Nikesh Shukla and Chimene Suleyman

26 authors share their stories of living in the USA.

(2020) Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson

Examines the unspoken caste system that has shaped America and shows how we continue to be defined in this way..

(2020) This Is What America Looks Like: My Journey from Refugee to Congresswoman

by Ilhan Omar

This title explains it.

(2019) The 1619 Project: A New Origin Story by Nikole Hannah Jones (among others)

Reframes our understanding of American history by placing slavery and its continuing legacy at the center of our national narrative.

(2019) Things are Good Now by Djamila Ibrahim

Stories of how migrants sort out their lives in foreign lands.

(2018) So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

An examination of race in America.

(2018) I’m Still Here by Austin Channing Brown

A memoir telling her journey of learning to love her blackness while navigating America's racial divide.

(2018) If They Come for Us by Fatimah Asghar

Poetry that captures the experience of being a Pakistani Muslim woman in contemporary America, while exploring identity, violence, and healing.

(2016) Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of History of Racist Ideas in America by Ibram X. Kendi

Traces the history of Black America.

(2015) Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

A memoir, in the form of a letter to his young son, telling his personal experiences with racism and violence in the United States.

(2015) My Seneca Village by Marilyn Nelson

Poetry and information about Seneca Village – a multi-racial, multi-ethnic neighborhood in the center of Manhattan (Central Park ) that thrived in the mid-19th century.

(2014) An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz

Tells the 400+ years of US history, from the perspective of Indigenous peoples

(2013) Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom Scientific Knowledge, and the Teaching of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Explores the place of plants and botany in both Indigenous and Western life.

(2010) The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration by Isabel Wilkerson

Follows the stories of three Black Americans’ migration journeys from Mississippi, Florida and Louisiana.

(2010) The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness

By Michelle Alexander

Explains how we haven’t ended, but have redesigned, the caste system in the U.S.

(1972) Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions by John (Fire) Lame Deer and Richard Erdoes

Told by Lame Deer, a Lakota medicine man, this memoir teaches the history of Indigenous people in the USA.

BOOKS FOR GRADES K-12

GRADES 7 - 12

(2021) Firekeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley

The novel's main character is a young woman with a French mother and an Ojibwe father, who often feels torn between cultures.

(2021) The 1619 Project: Born on the Water by Nikole Hannah-Jones and Renée Watson

Illustrated by Nikkolas Smith

Tells the story and consequences of American slavery in verse.

(2020) Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi

Shorter and appropriate for middle and high schoolers.

(2020) All Boys Aren’t Blue by George M. Johnson

Series of personal essays about the author’s life growing up as a gay, black man.

(2020) Dictionary for a Better World: Poems, Quotes, and Anecdotes from A to Z by Irene Latham and Charles Waters Illustrated by Mehrdokt Amini

Explained in title.

(2020) Woke: A Young Poet’s Call to Justice by Mahogany L. Browne with Elizabeth Acevedo and Olivia Gatewood Illustrated by Theodore Taylor III

Poetry about fighting for racial justice through joy and passion.

(2020) Be Amazing: A History of Pride by Desmond Is Amazing Illustrated by Dylan Glynn

The history of Pride, with bold illustrations, focusing on the importance of embracing one’s own uniqueness and tuning out the haters.

(2020) Dear Justyce (Dear Martin #2) by Nic Stone

Continues the story of Justyce from Dear Martin in a series of flashbacks and letters.

(2020) Punching the Air by Ibi Zoboi and Yusef Salaam

A novel in verse about a boy who is wrongfully incarcerated.

(2019) Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobab

The author tells the story of life as a nonbinary person in graphic novel form.

(2019) An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States for Young People original book by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz adapted by Debbie Rees and Jean Mendoza

Shorter and appropriate for middle and high schoolers

(2017) Sea Prayer by Khalad Hosseini Illustrated by Dan Williams

Written as a poetic letter, from father to son, this is a story of the journey of refugees.

(2017) Dear Martin (Dear Martin #1) by Nic Stone

A story of the realities of a Black teen living in America.

(2015) All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely

From the perspective of two teenage boys, one Black and one White, a story is told with the realization that racism and prejudice are still alive and well.

(2015) Beyond Magenta: Transgender and Nonbinary Teens Speak Out by Susan Kuklin

The author interviewed six transgender for gender-neutral young adults and lets

them tell their story.

(2011) Heart and Soul: The Story of America and African Americans written and illustrated by Kadir Nelson

The title explains it well

GRADES 4 - 6

(2023) An American Story by Kwame Alexander illustrated by Dare Coulter

Tells the story, poetically and honestly, about American slavery

(2023) Step by Step!: How the Lincoln School Marchers Blazed a Trail to Justice

by Debbie Rigaud and Carlotta Penn illustrated by Nysha Pierce

Tells the story of a group of Black mothers and children and their two-year march to integrate an Ohio elementary school.

(2022) Say Their Names by Caroline Brewer illustrated by Adrian Brandon

A young Black girl leads a #BlackLivesMatter protest march.

(2021) Stamped (For Kids): Racism, Antiracism, and You by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi.

Shorter, more kid friendly version of Stamped from the Beginning.

(2021) Unspeakable: The Tulsa Race Massacre by Carole Boston Weatherford illustrated by Floyd Cooper

Traces the history of this African-American ‘Wall Street District’ and its destruction by White supremacists.

(2016). I Dissent: Ruth Bader Ginsburg Makes Her Mark by Debbie Levy illustrated by Elizabeth Baddeley

The life and work of RBG told in picture book form.

(2008) Silent Music: A Story of Baghdad written and illustrated by James Rumford

Ancient and recent history of Baghdad from the perspective of a young boy.

(2005) Show Way by Jacqueline Woodson illustrated by Hudson Talbott

Traces the history of the ‘show way’ quilt from slavery through freedom.

(2005) My Name is Bilal by Asma Mobin-Uddin illustrated by Barbara Kiwak

Muslim-American student experiencing religious prejudice.

(2005). Amelia to Zora: Twenty-Six Women Who Changed the World by Cynthia Chin-Lee Ilustrated by Megan Halsey and Sean Addy

An alphabet book that teaches about the extraordinary lives of 26 women.

(1978). The Other Way to Listen by Byrd Baylor and Peter Parnall

Helps children learn about indigenous cultures.

GRADES PRE-K - 3

(2023) These Olive Trees: A Palestinian Family’s Story written and illustrated by Aya Ghanameh

A story of a young girl and her family in Nablus, Palestine, 1967

(2020). Antiracist Baby by Ibram X. Kendi illustrated by Ashley Lukashvsky

Teaches young children how to be an antiracist.

(2016). When We Were Alone by David A. Robertson and Julie Flett

A young, indigenous girl learns about her grandmother’s experience in a

residential school.

(2013). A is for Activist by Innosanto Nagara (board book)

An ABC book that teaches children about being an activist.

[yassbishimvintage]

Just Us

MDNI: For the grown and the sexy.

Warnings: Talks of kids, sex positions.

A/n: Hey y'all. So here is that Aaron fic. Look its all over the place. And I highly recommend listening to the song before to set the mood.

The morning sunlight filtered softly through the sheer curtains of their St. John’s Wood home, casting a golden hue across the minimalist, yet luxuriously warm bedroom. The house was unusually quiet, their busy schedules clear for the first time, leaving Aaron and Cleo to savor the rare stillness.

Aaron stood at the vanity mirror, buttoning up a crisp black shirt, the fabric molding perfectly to his broad shoulders. His hazel eyes flicked toward Cleo’s reflection as she moved gracefully across the room, her silk robe tied loosely at the waist, revealing hints of the outfit underneath. She was effortlessly stunning, her skin glowing with that natural radiance he could never get enough of.

"You’re staring, Mr. Pierre," Cleo teased, applying a subtle gloss to her lips, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Aaron didn’t miss a beat, stepping closer to slide his arms around her waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. "And I’ll never get tired of it," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of her neck.

Cleo chuckled, her fingers briefly resting on his. "We’ll miss the movie if you keep this up."

He leaned back slightly, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "Is that really a problem?"

They eventually managed to finish getting ready, Cleo slipping into a chic, figure-hugging dress with a pair of understated yet elegant heels. Aaron, in his tailored slacks and shirt, exuded that effortless charm she always admired.

As they walked to the Bentley truck, Cleo grabbed his hand. "It’s nice, you know—just us today."

Aaron squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "My favorite kind of day."

During the drive, their playlist filled the silence—an eclectic mix of old-school R&B and modern hits, songs that carried memories of road trips, late-night talks, and spontaneous dances in the kitchen.

At the cinema, they opted for one of those luxury screening rooms with reclining seats, plush blankets, and an intimate vibe. Aaron ordered their usual—popcorn layered with both butter and caramel (Cleo’s guilty pleasure), and a couple of mocktails.

Mid-movie, Aaron reached over, his fingers finding Cleo’s without looking. She squeezed his hand gently, leaning her head against his shoulder. For them, it wasn’t just about the film. It was about these small, quiet moments—the ones where words weren’t needed because the love was already woven into the space between them.

After the movie, instead of heading straight home, they strolled around the city, talking about everything and nothing, laughter spilling freely, just like when they first met. It was a simple morning turned perfect, wrapped in the comfort of familiarity and the spark that never faded.

-

Cleo glanced up at Aaron, a slow, teasing smile curving her lips as they walked hand in hand along the quiet streets of London. The soft hum of the city provided a gentle backdrop, but his question hung in the air, weighted with both playfulness and sincerity.

She arched a brow, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, so that’s your agenda for today? A movie and a baby-making proposal?"

Aaron chuckled, pulling her closer until his arm wrapped securely around her waist. "I mean, it sounds like a solid plan to me. Quality entertainment, great company, and potentially expanding the Pierre legacy."

Cleo laughed, the sound warm and rich. She stopped walking, turning to face him fully, her hands resting on his chest. 

Cleo pretended to consider, tapping her finger against her chin dramatically. "Hmm, sleepless nights, diaper blowouts, teething… sounds dreamy."

He laughed, the deep, warm sound vibrating against her palms. Then, with a more tender expression, he whispered, "But also baby giggles, first steps, and watching them grow up with a family who’ll spoil them rotten."

Cleo’s heart softened, even as she rolled her eyes playfully. "You’re dangerously persuasive, Mr. Pierre."

Aaron grinned, leaning in to kiss her softly. "I’m just saying… we’d make a masterpiece."

She laughed against his lips, then pulled back slightly, her gaze locking with his. "Well, you know me—I love a good challenge."

He smirked. "So that’s a yes?"

Cleo just shook her head, her smile giving nothing away as she started walking again, tugging his hand. "Let’s get home, and we’ll see who wins this round."

Aaron followed, that satisfied grin still on his face because he knew exactly where this was headed.

Aaron chuckled, his grip on her hand tightening slightly as they continued walking. "Well, can you blame me?" he replied, his voice low and smooth. "Your body’s basically my favorite subject. I study it like it’s the only thing that matters."

Cleo laughed, shaking her head, a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks despite the years they’d been together. "You say that like it’s supposed to be flattering."

He stopped walking, gently pulling her to face him again. His hazel eyes softened, the playful edge giving way to something more sincere. "It is. I know every curve, every change, every little sign. It’s like your body speaks to me, and I’d be a fool not to listen."

Cleo’s heart skipped, her teasing demeanor faltering under the warmth of his words. She reached up, brushing her fingers along his jaw. "You really don’t play fair."

Aaron leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, soft and lingering. "Never claimed to."

They stood there for a beat, wrapped up in the quiet, unspoken connection that always seemed to pull them back to each other. Then Cleo pulled away slightly, her signature smirk returning.

"Alright, Mr. Pierre. Let’s see if all that studying pays off."

Aaron grinned, sliding his arm around her waist as they headed home. "Oh, trust me, Professor—I’m about to ace this test."

Aaron smirked, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous glint as he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

"You really wanna know?" he teased, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of her hip. "It’s not just about the position, babe. It’s about having you right where I want you."

Cleo arched an eyebrow, amused but intrigued. "Oh, I’m listening."

He leaned back slightly, his grin widening. "Alright then. It’s when you’re on top," he confessed smoothly, his hand sliding up her back. "Because I get to watch you. Every move, every expression—you in control, but still mine. And when I pull you down just enough to kiss you? That’s my favorite."

Cleo’s laugh was soft, her eyes darkening with both affection and heat. "You really don’t know how to keep things PG for more than five seconds, do you?"

Aaron shrugged, unapologetic. "Not when it comes to you."

Aaron chuckled, his lips brushing over the back of her hand before resting it on his thigh as he merged onto the highway.

"Back shots are a close second," he admitted, casting her a quick sideways glance, his grin never fading. "But see, with that, it’s all about me—control, power." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "But when you’re on top? That’s us. It’s you owning it, and me losing my damn mind watching you."

Cleo smirked, tilting her head slightly as she studied him. "So, basically, you like being obsessed."

Aaron laughed, his deep, rich tone filling the car. "Babe, I’ve been obsessed since day one. That’s nothing new."

She rolled her eyes playfully, leaning back in her seat, her smile softening as she looked out the window. "You’re lucky you’re cute."

He shot her another quick glance, his grin turning into that smug, signature smirk. "Nah, I’m lucky you’re mine."

Cleo’s gaze lingered on him, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, freshly defined by his new cut. The subtle glint of his chain peeked out from beneath his shirt, catching the light with every slight movement. His glasses sat perfectly on his face, adding an intellectual edge to his already magnetic presence. The way his hand rested on her thigh—firm, warm, and claiming without needing to say a word—sent a comforting shiver through her.

His focus on the road was unwavering, but his thumb absentmindedly traced slow, deliberate circles against her skin. There was nothing performative about it—just natural, effortless intimacy, like his presence was the anchor to her heartbeat.

She sighed softly, the tension she didn’t even realize she carried melting away. “You don’t even try, do you?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, more to herself than him.

Aaron’s lips quirked slightly, his eyes still trained on the road. “Try what?” he asked, his thumb pausing for just a second before continuing its gentle motion.

She shook her head with a faint smile, looking out the window, her heart swelling. “You just… exist. And it’s enough.”

At that, Aaron glanced over briefly, his smile softer now, filled with unspoken words. He gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Same way I feel about you, baby.”

And just like that, the car didn’t feel like a space—they were wrapped in a bubble, just the two of them, the world passing by unnoticed.

Aaron stepped out of the car with effortless grace, his chain catching the last hint of daylight as it swayed slightly with his movements. He adjusted his glasses with one hand while the other casually slid into his pocket as he rounded the sleek Bentley. His steps were unhurried, purposeful, like every motion was stitched with quiet confidence.

Reaching Cleo’s door, he opened it with a smooth pull, his gaze dropping to meet hers. There was a softness there—an unspoken tenderness mixed with that ever-present masculine edge she loved. His hand extended, palm up, the veins in his forearm subtly defined as he waited for her to take it.

Cleo slipped her hand into his, and the warmth of his touch sent a familiar spark through her. He helped her out with ease, their bodies naturally falling into sync as she stood. His hand didn’t drop away immediately; instead, his fingers lingered, sliding from her palm to her wrist, then up to gently brush the inside of her forearm.

“You good, baby?” he asked, his voice low, coated with that distinct rasp that always made her chest tighten in the best way.

She nodded, her smile soft yet full of heat. “I’m always good with you.”

Aaron leaned in, his lips grazing the curve of her jaw, then trailing softly to the shell of her ear. “Good,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “Because I plan on keeping it that way.”

His hand found the small of her back as they walked toward the house, fingers spreading wide, possessive but protective. It was subtle, but to Cleo, it was everything—the quiet declaration that she was his, even without words.

-

Aaron disappeared into their expansive walk-in closet, the faint sound of hangers sliding along the sleek, custom-built rods filling the quiet space. The soft lighting cast a warm glow over the neatly organized rows of designer suits, tailored shirts, and an impressive collection of sneakers meticulously arranged on shelves. His chain caught the light once more as he pulled his shirt over his head, the muscles in his back flexing with the motion.

Cleo leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his physique. His broad shoulders tapered down to a slim waist, the definition in his back a testament to his disciplined routine. He didn’t know she was watching—or maybe he did. With Aaron, it was always hard to tell because his awareness of her presence was almost instinctive.

He exchanged his tailored slacks for a pair of soft, grey sweatpants, the waistband riding low on his hips, and tossed on a black fitted T-shirt that hugged him just right. As he adjusted the simple yet perfectly styled chain around his neck, he caught her reflection in the mirror—a soft smile playing on her lips, her gaze unapologetically lingering.

“You just gonna stand there and stare?” he asked with a smirk, his deep voice carrying that casual tease she’d fallen for years ago.

Cleo stepped into the closet, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. “Can you blame me?” she replied, her fingers lightly grazing the exposed skin at his waist before sliding up to rest against his chest. “You make it hard not to.”

Aaron tilted his head slightly, his grin deepening as he leaned down, his lips barely brushing hers. “Then don’t stop,” he whispered, before claiming her mouth with a kiss that was both soft and possessive, his hands finding her hips, pulling her closer.

For a moment, the world outside their closet ceased to exist—just the two of them wrapped up in the gravity that always pulled them back to each other, no matter how much time had passed.

Cleo lay sprawled across their bed, the soft linen sheets tangled beneath her, her chest rising and falling in slow, satisfied breaths. The subtle sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, catching the muted afternoon light that filtered through the sheer curtains. Her hair fanned out across the pillows, wild and untamed, much like the energy that had filled the room just moments before.

Aaron stood at the foot of the bed, his chest heaving slightly, a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He raked a hand through his hair, the chain around his neck resting against his collarbone, glinting faintly. His gaze never left her—admiring, possessive, tender.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice husky, filled with both pride and adoration. He climbed back onto the bed, settling beside her, his hand tracing lazy, feather-light patterns along the curve of her hip.

Cleo’s lips curled into a soft smile, her eyes half-lidded with that post-bliss haze. “You know,” she said breathlessly, “I was just trying to get dressed.”

Aaron chuckled lowly, leaning in to press a kiss to her shoulder, his beard grazing her skin, sending a fresh wave of warmth through her. “You looked too good to ignore,” he whispered against her skin, his fingers still drawing slow circles.

She hummed in response, her hand finding its way to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm. For a few blissful moments, neither of them spoke, just basking in the quiet intimacy that filled the room.

Then Aaron broke the silence with a soft laugh. “So… that dinner date with Kel and Simone?”

Cleo turned her head slightly, giving him a playful side-eye, her smile widening. “Oh, we definitely missed that dinner. But I think they will forgive us. Eventually.”

Aaron grinned, leaning down to kiss her again, slow and unhurried. “We’ll catch the next one,” he whispered, his hand slipping to intertwine with hers, their fingers fitting together like they always had—effortlessly.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout @melaninpov @todorokishoe24 @chaoticcoffeequeen @gopaperless @jenlovey @notapradagurl7

[opalblade]

01 FEBRUARY 25.

𓂀 HASTA NAKSHATRA THEMES .

AN: click "alt" to see the astrological placements

🪬 HASTA AS GOD'S VESSEL .

savitar (hasta's deity) desired "may the gods place their faith in me"

✧ i have a theory that hasta natives look to bring god onto earth in their own ways and channel god and god-like power. hasta possesses "the power to manifest and place it in one's hands" and since hasta is in virgo, the sign that represents the material plane, their focus is primarily to channel god and god's presence onto earth.

✧ nuns are a very well known hasta association as many actors that play nuns have hasta placements and many real life nuns also have hasta placements. this is the most obvious manifestation of "the gods placing their faith in another" as nuns devote their lives to god and religion.

✧ occultists have also been revealed to have major hasta relations by claire nakti's research, which you can find on youtube. earlier occultists performed god-like feats like telepathy and were very much into alchemy, trying to find the solution to immortality. many occulists believe they are channeling god when they perform their feats and current occultists will refer to channeling "spirit" or some higher power.

✧ hasta is related to writers as many writers have hasta nakshatra and hasta's symbol is the hand. hasta nakshatra's power is "the power to manifest and place it in one's hand" and one could say that writers receive divine inspiration for their works. they manifest or channel whatever they write.

✧ ariana grande (hasta moon) inserts herself as god and other mythological and mystical beings in the music video for "god is a woman". she constantly places herself as a figure for the divine feminine. her song "just like magic" from her album "positions" is about manifesting.

✧ brandy norwood has been dubbed the vocal bible, in reference to her singing skills. she has hasta ascendant.

🪬 HASTA'S FLUIDITY .

✧ christopher nolan (hasta ascendant) directed the movie "inception", where the theme of dreams and fluid identities comes into play. cobb, the main character, is played by leonardo dicaprio [above] and marion cotillard plays a major role as his wife. we see characters like tom hardy shapeshift from a man to a woman, time is explored and warped, and the truth behind reality is brought into question.

✧ christopher nolan is notorious for his exploration of the concept of time in his movies, popular examples being tenet, memento, interstellar and inception.

✧ marion cotillard [below] plays cobb's wife in inception and has spoken about liking acting as it allows her to have many professions while keeping the same profession in real life. hasta natives like the idea of exploring several different identities and facets of the human psyche.

✧ anne hathway [below] plays an important role in interstellar, constantly questioning the fabric of reality, time and space and our understanding of it. she has been in more than one nolan movie, playing catwoman in his batman movie "the dark knight rises", which is another hasta theme i will explore later in the post. she also wanted to be a nun as a child and played mia thermopolis, who went through a massive beauty transformation in "the princess diaries". the movie shows her going from an ordinary, geeky girl to becoming princess of genovia.

✧ this fluidity through identity is apparent in discourse surrounding ariana grande who is frequently criticised for race baiting, from her skin tone down to her voice. however her fluid identity is not all negative. the excellent tarot reader maestro, @bitdemonic, describes ariana grande as "the embodiment of dual personalities", due to her seeming innocence hiding her sexual nature in her 18+ tarot pick a card. (ps. i highly recommend!)

🪬 HASTA, THE TRICKSTER .

✧ hasta nakshatra is a moon nakshatra in the virgo rashi, which is ruled by mercury. the combination of these two planets lends itself to the fluidity present in hasta natives and aids in deception.

✧ hasta nakshatra is considered a trickster nakshatra because the planet mercury represents a prepubescent child that hasn't been sexualised yet. this means they are more focused on playing, as children do, and sliding through different expressions. this is also why hasta nakshatra is associated with fairies such as tinkerbell and glinda, the good witch. fairies were traditionally seen as trickster spirits.

✧ matt damon [above] played tom ripley in "the talented mr. ripley" and he cons several people into believing his fake identity and even gets away with multiple murders.

✧ leonardo dicaprio plays jordan belfort (real-life hasta moon) in "the wolf of wall street", in which he cons and scams countless people, ending up in jail. leonardo also manages to adopt varying identities in the film "catch me if you can", outsmarting the fbi in the process.

✧ hasta nakshatra is deceptive moon and its natives uses this to serve their material desires as hasta is placed in virgo rashi.

✧ several catwoman actresses have hasta nakshatra. catwoman is a thief and a master of disguise, matching the hasta themes of fluid identities and tricksters.

✧ ariana grande, anne hathaway and zoë kravitz [above] all played or, in ari's case, dressed up as catwoman.

✧ hasta nakshatra is also related to thieves and its symbol is the hand. hasta is noted by vindelllas to be related to gold-digging, especially as hasta's power is to "manifest and to place it in one's hand".

. *     .     　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　    ˚ . *     .     　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　

© 2025 opalblade. do not copy, repost, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[medievalthymes]

january wrap up 🌘

a little this, a little that. school started up again so that is taking up a lot of my time, but it's my last semester (EVER thank god), the light at the end of the tunnel. despite that though, I managed to get some reads in and most of them were excellent.

words of radiance: I started the stormlight archives at the end of last year and I'm enjoying it, so I'm slowly making my way through that journey. I'm thinking I'll probably read one book a month from this series so I don't burn myself out because man does sanderson like to yap

odd spirits/evocation: thoroughly enjoying st gibson's summoners circle series and cannot wait to get my hands on the next book. the setting is so rich and i adore all the characters.

left hand of darkness: truly THEE blueprint for modern day sci-fi. my favourite book of the month, I could not stop thinking about it after I read it. though it was written in the 60's it felt so modern and it was clear to see how modern day authors have taken inspo from le guin's work. highly recommend for any fantasy or sci-fi lover

the sunshine court: oh jean... a reread in preparation for tsc2 terrified for whatever nora is cooking up but i'll be ready, i think.

how to spot a fascist: short but informative text about the markers of the rise of fascism. no further explanation needed.

death rider: intro novella to a larger series, it didn't wow me so I probably wont be continuing with this

carmilla: I can't believe i haven't read this before. the og vampire story, the og toxic yuri. what more could you ask for. highly recommend this edition as the editors footnotes were hilarious

the blighted stars: fun and action packed sci-fi (i'm in a sci-fi mood clearly) in which a trans geologist/space prince is stuck on a dying planet with the woman who vowed to bring down his families empire (who is in disguise as his body guard) but oh no she's hot. i love a grumpy guard dog trope. anyways highly enjoyable and i can't wait to read the next book.

[alex31624]

Ok pal @irishironclad, you're in for one hell of a trip. Girls und Panzer is a sport anime about high school girls battling in WWII tanks.

Everything takes place in Japan, but each school is a different country stereotype, there's the German school, the American, the Russian and so on.

The main series began in 2012, with 12 episodes. The story follows Miho and her team of underdogs. The start is a bit slow, but it goes up an up.

In this blu ray, one song from the Russian team is replaced. I highly recommend see the original japanese release.

There’s a bunch of OVAs but only one is mandatory.

The Italian team is really something. Commander Anchovy is a great and charismatic leader.

You need to see this one in order to see the movie.

This movie is AMAZING. An All-stars team joining forces to battle their biggest threat yet.

So, now things get a bit complicated.

After the movie, it was announced that 6 more movies will come out. We already have 4 of those, 3 having a proper US release.

The fourth one, I'm hoping for a march release, one year after the Japanese blu ray release, but there have been no news I'm aware of it.

Also, there's no news about the fifth movie. I believe it could come out next year, but nothing has been confirmed.

I truly believe this is an amazing anime. It could sound weird with the tank battle premise, I get that. But... I don't know... Girls und Panzer has hit me like no other anime ever.

I think it's worth giving it a chance.

no other anime can really top this

[not-xpr-art]

Curled tight as a question mark...

(01/2025)

Ok so I've been super obsessed with the AMAZING Trolley Problem AU fics by @silverview & @unreesonable (where Drew is the 22 year old Blake abuses instead of Ellie) for literally ages so it was only a matter of time before I'd end up doing some art based on it pfft...

Links to the fics below btw (also gonna ramble about this piece a bit since, as usual, I put way too much thought into it pfft)!!!

a better son / daughter

special arrangements

and all I'll do is kiss him (btw title of this piece actually taken from a line in this one which I really loved!!!)

spaces between

Highly recommend all of them btw, they're so GOOD!!!!!

~~~

Ok, so I immediately wanted to do a sorta twisted version of Klimt's 'The Kiss' but the concept kinda got away from me as I was painting it... Plus I couldn't get the vibrant gold colour to work with the general colouring of the figures so the background became like vaguely vaginal curtains that I could probably spin some kinda symbolic link to Drew's mother if I wanted to lol...

(think I made a joke on bsky that I'm in my Georgia O'Keeffe era and NO one laughed smhsmh...)

I've also been wanting to do something based on the iconic The Fallen Angel painting by Alexandre Cabanel but never really had a particular subject in mind... until NOW! (ofc the emotion is different but idk I think the reference still works... Drew's tears are more desperate, hopeless, resigned, and perhaps less angry than Lucifer's?)

I wanted the piece to feel like Drew is trapped. Trapped by his turbulent relationship with his mother and father, trapped by his status and position in life, trapped by his sexuality, trapped by the drugs... And ultimately trapped by Blake, who was supposed to offer him a paternal embrace, a comforting hand on his shoulder, to properly help guide him out of the hole he's stuck in but all he did was take advantage of his vulnerability and drag him further into that pit...

Also, kinda funny story, but I tried doing a cute romantic in9 art before I started this but my brain and hand were having none of it lol... NO adorable yaoi for you manipulative toxic yaoi ONLY !!!!!!!

Stylistically I wanted to try and make this look sorta traditionally painted, which involved me using a combo of my regular program alongside ms paint since I like the texture of some of the brushes on there tbh (plus those brushes are really great for painting body hair which I had so much fun drawing a lot of here lol)! Overlaid with a vaguely canvas-y texture lol

Oh, and also I put the diamond pattern of the jumper Drew wears in the episode on his underwear here both because it was going to get covered if I put it on his t-shirt and because it's sorta a fun way to reflect how this is an AU lol

Also have some close ups since tumblr has completely destroyed the quality of this lol:

(final close up is actually of a version of the painting without the texture overlay btw which is why the colours are slightly different, but I thought it might be interesting to share so u can see the brushwork texture a little better??)

uh anyway... that's all folks lol!

[kirlicues]

Small Mediterranean Cottage | Sims 2 Lot Download

Looking for Mediterranean luxury without the luxury price-tag? This small cottage may be just what your sims are looking for!  At $182.3K it’s not exactly cheap, but it is a great way to begin to enjoy those lovely Spanish-style accents without having to pay an arm and a leg, or wait for all those rich relatives to die. (You do have a good relationship with them though, right?)

The back yard features a beautiful stone patio, and a hot tub. There is also a small table and chairs to enjoy dinners outside in the fresh sea-side air.

What could be a more perfect vacation home? 🥰

I’ll take you on a tour of the inside in just a moment. First, Here are some pictures of the floorplan.

First floor: From top right, Dining room, kitchen, bathroom, Living room, and garage.

Second floor: From top, master bathroom, kid’s bedroom 1, bathroom, kids bedroom 2, study, and master bedroom.

Now that you’ve seen the layout, let’s get started on the inside tour!

Living room:

Office nook:

Kitchen:

Dining room:

Master bedroom:

Kids bedroom 1:

Kids bedroom 2:

Small Mediterranean Cottage: MF | SFS

All EPs and SPs are required.

*I highly recommend that you have the PerfectPlants mod from TwoJeffs*

I’ve run this home through the Lot Compressor so any random references to sims that aren’t there should be removed. I have also run this lot through the Lot Cleaner to remove any bits of buggy code. This lot comes with a shiny custom thumbnail so it has even more curb appeal in your Lots and Houses bin! 😄

This home has only 2 pieces of CC, which you may already have in your game. These can easily be replaced or omitted if you don’t want them though.

CC List (Included): -Maxis Match Wall Cabinets by CTNutmegger at ModtheSims -Functional Washer and Dryer by mustluvcats at ModtheSims -Egg Topiary originally from the Sims 2 Website

I ALWAYS recommend using the Sims 2 Pack Clean installer to install lot files.

[jmdbjk]

Language challenges...

The other day, I was doing my (BTS) Army duty and introducing my sister to Hobi's music: Hope World, Jack in the Box and Hope on the Street. She asked one or two questions and truthfully, I was not prepared to answer what the songs were specifically saying. I know what they are generally about but I could not even recite ONE specific lyric from HOTS. I was ashamed. I'm sorry Hobi.

[Jungkook with a bag over his head]

So I am reviewing lyrics for every song beginning with PROOF and I plan to review the lyrics for every solo album. Except Golden (more on that in a sec). Then I will move on to each album in BTS' discography and eventually the Japanese albums as well. It's definitely a task that has to be tackled in smallish chunks because... overwhelming much? Yes.

Of course I've read the translations before and I know what the gist of the songs (the ones I listen to often) are about, but singing along with them in Korean and knowing what the lyrics are...not happening in my brain. Yet.

Yes, yes... oMg NoW wE hAvE tImE tO LeArN kOrEaN aNd CaTch uP oN cOnTent...

🤪

You all know how that went over the past two and a half years.

As I am going through the songs, as it was discussed when PROOF was first released, the evolution of lyrics, musicality, themes, throughout BTS' career is quite obvious. I am also being reminded that when you are missing context, some lyrical meaning is lost in translation. Though this site has not been updated since 2023, I highly recommend it to gain some added nuances for music prior to D-Day (the last album included): Doolset Lyrics.

This site is current and has translated lyrics for all albums including solo albums but doesn't include as much explanation of certain nuances in language: Bangtan Subs

Overcoming the language and cultural nuances thing is a thing, but one thing remains, the sincerity, the pointed topic of the songs, there are none that are vague at all.

There's young love/lust, yearning, pride, fear, dreams, wonder, self-realization, anger, sadness, joy... it's all there in the lyrics.

I was reading the lyrics for Yet to Come and was overcome with emotion... the past, was it honestly the best? we've come full circle, but the best moment is yet to come.

...was the past honestly the best? I can honestly answer no to that question. The past was AWESOME. But...now older, wiser, the thoughts, opinions and reflection that will eventually become lyrics are coming from a more mature point of view. And that growth never stops, year after year. I know the best IS yet to come.

It made me wonder whats going through their minds while they are up on stage singing these songs... are they filled with a sense of nostalgia? are they filled with wonder yet again as they gaze out at the tens of thousands of points of light from Army bombs? Do their hearts burst with pride? love? exhaustion (lol)? I know they're also thinking about what comes next in the choreography but that is also a muscle memory thing and sort of goes on autopilot (reference JK forgetting to fill in for Jin during the Butter choreo during the PTD LV concert).

I can see why they'd choose to "retire" songs from a concert set list. They've outgrown them personally and artistically.

As for my sister, I think she will probably lean toward Jungkook as her bias. Circumstances created a situation where he was her first real BTS experience when I brought her with me to see I Am Still at the movie theater. It doesn't hurt that he's adorably goofy. We then listened to Golden on the way home. Accessible, that's the word that comes to mind. The english songs help those new to BTS to open their minds and when that happens, as we know, the rabbit hole is not far behind, language challenges be damned.

She is still far, far from even being baby Army. I am working on it. Wish me luck.

[casscainmainly]

Hi! I've loved reading your thoughts on Cass and other overlooked characters on this blog, it's really opened my eyes and made me want to explore canon more (sadly until recently I was solely into fanon)

I've seen you talk about Steph a lot, and you seem like one of the best people to ask about her. See, I've only ever seen shallow portrayals of her in fanon, and when I've tried looking into canon, I get...mixed portrayals at best. Especially when it comes to her dynamic with Bruce or Tim. And I'll admit I got put off by it.

But since you've already made me excited to learn more about Cass, I figured if you like Steph too, she must have more to her than what I've stumbled onto. So if it's not too much trouble, could you recommend some comics/stories to help someone trying to lose the fanon goggles get to know (and hopefully adore) her?

Hi!! I'm so glad you're diving into comics, it's a wild ride but honestly a lot of fun <333. And Steph is definitely a character with incredible amounts of depth to her. For a full reading list, check out @bitimdrake's reading order (it stops at the New 52 which is a company-wide reboot, for post-N52 stories check out this page and then this one).

Steph's portrayals are often marred by misogyny both in and out of text. Her relationship with Bruce can be off-putting, and sometimes her treatment will be absolutely infuriating. However, all of this makes her super interesting to me - she's a character who refuses to give up, whose tenacity is so strong it even defies real life mandates to erase and belittle her! If you stick with her, you will come out with a character who's so much more than anyone ever thought she'd be.

I'm not a Steph expert by any means, so I'd recommend asking Steph-centric blogs like @a-bad-case-of-the-stephs (whose metas are incredible) because you might get better recommendations from them! But for Steph stories I've personally enjoyed, they are:

Batman: Huntress/Spoiler - Blunt Trauma: After an earthquake, Steph teams up with Huntress to take down some bad guys. This one issue undoes a lot of fanon - it dives into Steph's outlook on life, moral beliefs, and her relationship with her father. Highly recommend!

Batgirl (2000) #26, 28: In Cass' Batgirl run, Steph features as a prominent side character and their relationship is one of my absolute favourites. #26 is a Steph-centric issue where she fills in for Cass, and explores her insecurities in a really fascinating way. #28 is also a Steph highlight, showcasing her perseverance and why Cass is so impressed with her.

Solo (2004) #10: Not sure if it's in-continuity, but Damion Scott (Cass' co-creator) has a super fun story in here about Robin!Steph and Cass. Just really adorable and fun, and one of the best encapsulations of the Steph-Cass dynamic.

Batgirl (2009): Jumping over to Steph's Batgirl run, it does hit better if you've read Robin '93 but honestly it's good either way. Steph has so much personality in this run, it's incredibly fun and shows her humour, resilience, and heart, as well as some of her flaws. Really really worth reading!

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Batgirl: A Bruce-Steph story that may require some context, but it's probably the best Bruce and Steph reconciliation we'll ever get. Very interesting insights into how Bruce and Steph see each other, as well as a really iconic slap.

A general rec for Steph is Robin (1993), which is important for her Spoiler and Robin days (I assume this is the run you've tried though). Detective Comics (2016) is not really the best Steph portrayal, but it's far from the worst and has a really nice one panel about Robin!Steph.

I hope this helps!! Steph is an amazing character who deserves a lot more from both fandom and DC, so any interest in her is greatly appreciated :))).

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

Part 2 over here

The rest of the story in where Tommy fosters Daniel, Buck's bio kid, under the cut.

Tommy didn’t immediately go back to the house after seeing Daniel. The first thing he had to go through was making sure all his documents were in order for the emergency foster placement to be approved and, fortunately, he had to go through background checks for his job. The only thing that needed to be checked off was his home.

“Tommy, this is Dedrie.” Claudia introduced him to an older Black woman with a polite smile wearing a dark green and black suit. “She’s with DCFS and a great social worker.”

Amir, who was watching all of this with a knowing smile, interjected in. “She comes highly recommended. She helped a friend of mine who also had to go through getting an emergency placement for their friend’s foster kid.” He patted Tommy’s back in support, “You’re in good hands.”

Tommy felt the vice around his heart give a little, everyone seemed so confident in him.

It felt a little off putting.

But this wasn’t about him.

This was about Daniel. Who was still nestled in Tommy’s arms, his little head resting on Tommy’s shoulder.

“Shall we head out then?” Dedrie asked, “I’m sure you and Daniel are excited to get home?”

Tommy sighed happily, “Yes, I’m sure this little guy would love to meet Hondo.” He cooed at the little toddler when he asked, “Would you want to meet my corgi puppy?”

Daniel, who was lightly dozing off, looked alert at the mention of a puppy. “You have puppy?” he asked, “I wanna meet puppy!”

The adults around him laughed, “A puppy! That’s so exciting Danny!” Claudia teased, not surprised that Daniel turned his head away from her- the little boy was getting restless around so many people since he had arrived at the hospital.

Tommy was seriously relieved that his team had agreed to not stay.

Before they could head out, Tommy asked Amir and Claudia about Daniel’s parents. “Still no change.” Amir told him disappointedly with a heavy sigh, “At this point both families have been told about their state, only time will tell.”

Claudia didn’t have much of answer for him regarding Daniel’s extended family taking him long term. “They haven’t changed their minds, unfortunately. I’m sure Dedrie will keep you posted since once he’s discharged his case will go to DCFS until there’s a decision.” She gave him a hopeful look. “No pressure, of course.”

No pressure indeed.

-

Dedrie seemed impressed with the home so far, she had nothing negative to say or flag when she looked around Daniel’s room. Especially since Daniel lit up and squealed “Bluey!” excitedly, pointing to the rug and the bedsheets. He wiggled in Tommy’s hold, signaling that he wanted to be put down. Tommy did so gingerly, reminding him to be careful since Daniel’s leg was still in a cast.

“He seems like a rambunctious 2 years old when he’s with you.” Dedrie complimented him as they watched Daniel pull himself onto the bed and start playing with all the stuff animals (of course Ashara had to buy a stuffed Bluey and 2 teddy bears wearing a flight suit and a firefighter turnout). “He didn’t seem so responsive when I first came into his room to speak to him.” She noted, her voice hinting at some concerns. She pulled her notebook close to her chest, “He seems very safe with you. I was very surprised when I saw that he was talking with you.”

“He wasn’t talking at the hospital?”

Dedrie shook her head, “No, he was very scared. Which is more than understandable after what he went through.” She looked at Tommy with an impressive look, “You saved him.”

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Part of the job, y’know?” He didn’t know what else he could say, it wasn’t like he had managed to save Daniel’s parents.

“Saving him is part of the job,” She motioned her hands towards Daniel and his room, “Taking him in isn’t, Mr. Kinard.”

Tommy faltered at that, unsure what he could say. He never saw himself as anyone’s father. An uncle? Sure. But a father? An actual dad? It felt so out there. The only time he even entertained the idea of having kids was when he was with…

No.

Tommy cleared his throat, his stomach twisting as he replied weakly with “Yeah, I know. Guess I didn’t think about it that way.” He tried to smile but Dedrie gave him a look that seemed to convey she had picked-up on him being uncomfortable about being complimented.

“Mr. Kinard-”

“Tommy.” He corrected her, “I feel like we’re probably gonna see a lot of each other, right?”

Dedrie nodded, chuckling as she agreed. “Tommy then.” She looked over at Daniel, who seemed to be enamored by the teddy bears now. “Might I ask why you decided to take in Daniel?” Tommy felt his mind go blank momentarily as she continued, “The medical social workers seemed to be unsure but relieved that you stepped up. I’m just curious?”

Tommy nodded wordlessly at that, he leaned against the door frame and just looked at Daniel. “I-I don’t know, it just felt right? Something in my gut was just telling me to do it. I’ve been a firefighter for almost 20 years now and I’ve seen kids go through things that no kid should have to go through, but I was always able to do my job, process the emotions later.” He caught Daniel playing with the stuffed animals, making the firefighter and pilot bear save Bluey from the stuffed dragon animal and laughed, the nerves he had felt dissipated. “Till now. I saw him and I couldn’t let go. Felt like he needed me.” He felt his eyes sting, he kept having to remind himself that this was probably temporary, like most things in life.

Daniel’s parents could get better.

His family could change their minds and take him in.

Anything.

He cleared his throat, realizing how washy and nonsensical he sounded. “Guess that’s not really a good reason.” He murmured more to himself than at Dedrie.

The older woman didn’t seem to mind his answer, she seemed to be pleased if Tommy wasn’t mistaken. “I don’t about that.” She hummed, “Sounds like a good reason to open your home and heart to a kid who really does need someone right now.”

After signing documents and getting a full rundown of what was to be expected as a foster parent (meetings, keeping Dedrie up to date with appointments, etc), Dedrie wished him luck for his first night with Daniel and informed him she would see them again soon.

Now it was just the two of them (three, if you included Hondo the corgi, who now seemed to be Daniel’s dog in the span of a few hours).

Tommy had figured that since Daniel was a toddler, that he would be a picky-eater. Nope, the kid had an appetite. “You like mac and cheese, huh kiddo?” Tommy asked as he got another plate (Bluey themed, again.) for the kid. Daniel seemed to really love veggies too, eating spinach and broccoli that Tommy had gotten for him with no problems.

“Yesh!” Daniel answered excitedly, his eyes all sparkly as he looked up at Tommy. “It’s yummy!”

“It is yummy.” Tommy agreed, “What else do you like? Do you like pizza?”

“Yesh!”

“Hmm, I bet you don’t like cookies though?”

“I like cookies, Tummy!”

Tommy laughed, Daniel’s scrunchy face was too adorable. “Okay, but I don’t think you like chocolate chip cookies though.”

“I like chocochip cookies.”

Tommy feigned playful excitement, smushing his own hands against his cheeks that gotten a laugh from Daniel. “You like chocolate chip cookies too?”

“Yesh!” Daniel laughed, eating another bite of the mac n cheese happily.

“Atta boy.” He lifted his hand up in front of Daniel, “Can I get a high-five?”

Daniel gently slapped his hand against Tommy’s, “Fist bump?” Tommy asked, laughing as Daniel gave him a high five instead. “We’ll work on that.” He noted as he continued to eat his dinner with Daniel.

It wasn’t easy to admit out loud, but he missed having someone else at home. The house had been quiet since…then.

But Tommy felt relieved, he was enjoying cuddling up with Daniel and Hondo on the couch to watch Coco. Laughing silently as Daniel tried to sing a long and getting half the words right or garbled in his adorable two-year-old way. The kid even got Tommy to sing along.

When it started to get late, Tommy decided to call it a night since Daniel was dozing off again. He gently picked up the kid who whined about not being sleepy yet, “I know.” Tommy assured him, rubbing Daniel’s back and betting that Daniel would fall sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Another thing he wouldn’t admit was that he sort of had this weird sort of jealous feeling towards his brother-in-law and nephew’s relationship. Chet was an amazing dad and Tommy had seen the way his brother-in-law treated his nephew, Tommy had felt happy but down that he never got a dad or even a father figure like Chet and a part of him had always believed he would never be a dad. It was those small moments in where he saw Chet and his nephew, or Eddie and Christ, or Bobby and Bu-

“I don’t wanna bwush.” Daniel whined sleepily as Tommy let him stand on the stool (another thing Ashara had bought him for his bathroom even though Daniel had his own bathroom), the kid was basically leaning against Tommy. His tiny arms wrapped around Tommy’s leg, Tommy snickered. “I know, kiddo. But we gotta brush our teeth every night and morning, okay?” he got out the new (Bluey again?!) toothbrush and was ready to pass it over to Daniel but he noticed the little boy had began to doze off again. Tommy tried to suppress his giggle, picking up the little boy in his arms, “Okay, c’mon bud.” He patted the little boy on the back, “I think we can survive one night without brushing your teeth, just this one time, got it?” he asked, knowing that the toddler was gone to the world.

Tommy felt his heart stutter and crash as he felt Daniel wrap his arms around his neck, snuffling against his neck as he got comfortable.

‘Bobby once told me that having a kid was like having your heart walk outside your chest…’

They-

He had mentioned children once…

Tommy took a shuddering breath in and then out.

His priority was on Daniel.

Not on his own stupid heart.

He tucked Daniel in, not even a bit surprised that Hondo had opted to sleep at the foot of the bed. “Really, you like him over me already?” Tommy asked the corgi playfully, scratching the pup behind the ear. “Can’t blame you.” He decided.

He watched over Daniel for a moment, making sure the kid was okay before he left the room, opting to leave the door open since he wanted to make sure Daniel would be okay during his first night.

Tommy was surprised that Daniel was taking everything well so far.

-

Tommy opened his eyes.

He wasn’t sure that he had heard it at first, thinking it was an auditory hallucination from a dream he couldn’t recall.

But he heard it again.

Sniffling and soft cries.

In an instant he was up and out of bed, walking quickly to Daniel’s room and turning on the light.

Daniel was still in bed, hugging the firefighter teddy bear tightly as tears fell. His face and eyes blotchy and red as continued to cry. “I wan mommy and daddy.”

“Oh bud.” Tommy picked him up,d not minding that Daniel’s snot, tears, and spit would get all over his t-shirt. “I know, I know you do.” He pressed a quick kiss on the toddler’s forehead as he let Daniel cry it out, rubbing his back soothingly.  

“I wan-I wan mommmmy.” Daniel cried harder, “I wan mommy.”

This was breaking his heart in so many pieces that Tommy knew it was pointless to stop his own tears from cascading down his cheeks. He had seen kids lose their parents, their entire families really.

And it never ever got easy for him to witness it all.

He knew the kids who had survived from that sort of trauma just couldn’t “shake it off”. Hell, thirty years later and Tommy still wasn’t over his own mother dying.

Being there for Daniel, being a constant for him was just the tip of the iceberg of what Tommy needed to do for Daniel’s sake.

After watching two episodes of Bluey, singing (roughly), and getting him a warm glass of milk, Daniel was still crying.

Tommy had an idea. It was a long shot, but it always helped him.

He opened his patio door, it was something they had done when they used to stay the night at his place.

-

“You like looking at stars too?” Evan asked, surprised when Tommy confessed that the upside of flying at night was catching glimpses of the stars.

“Always did.” Tommy admitted, trying and failing to sound nonchalant but Evan’s bright smile had him smiling as well. He scooted closer to the younger man, preening as he felt Evan scoot closer as well.

“I always loved looking at the stars, something about them. It-it’s just calming, y’know?”  Evan pointed to the night sky, a smirk on his face as he asked Tommy, “Bet you don’t know which constellation that one is.”

-

Tommy laid back on the patio sofa, sitting Daniel on top of him, mindful of the cast as Hondo jumped right next to them.

“Hey Daniel.” He pointed up, wondering and hoping this would work. “You see the stars, bud?”

Daniel was still crying but nodded, “Do you see that one?”

“Yesh.” Daniel sniffed, rubbing at his snotty nose as he looked up. Tommy brushed away the tears again.

“That’s Ursa Minor, the little bear.” Tommy took Daniel’s hand gently in his and pointed to the sky. “Can you say little bear?”

“Wittle bware.”

Tommy laughed as he stuck out his fist for a fist bump, not surprised at all when Daniel gave him a high-five again.

“What about that one? Do you know what that one is?”

“Yesh.”

-

Tommy slowly opened his eyes, first registering the weight on his chest and legs, and then the dull ache in his neck.

'So the patio sofa wasn't comfy enough to sleep on, noted.' He thought miserably, already anticipating the soreness and aches he would have once he stood up.

He heard a click- the sound of a phone's camera clicking.

"Morning wolfy." Lucy's smile was wide and adoring as she took another picture.

Tommy was careful not to jostle the still sleeping Daniel on his chest and the sleepy Hondo on his leg (of course his damn corgi slept on top of his leg and not in his own bed Tommy had bought for him). "What are you doing here? What time is it?" The overcast made it difficult to tell if it was still morning, but Tommy wouldn't be surprised if he had managed to sleep past 9 after last night.

"I'm here because I was in charge of coffee, bought you a cup from Dinosaurs. The others are making breakfast."

Now Tommy was awake. He planted his feet on the ground, ignoring Hondo's whining for Daniel's fussing over having to be adjusted from where he was sleeping. "The others?"

Lucy cocked her head towards the house, "Yes, you thought we would leave you alone for your first morning with Danny boy there?" She asked, all smiles as she tickled Daniel's arm and got a sleepy smile from the toddler. “Clearly you need the reinforcement if you spent your first night out here.”

Tommy huffed, only mildly annoyed as he followed Lucy back into his house. “It actually went pretty well.” He hitched Daniel up higher, “Just little buddy here started missing his parents and nothing seemed to work, so I took him outside to watch the stars.”

“And that worked?”

Tommy shrugged, “Worked well enough that he fell asleep again.” He took a deep inhale of the sweet and salty aroma coming from his kitchen, finding Melton and Ashara already in the middle of cooking some fancy looking omelet, bacon, something that looked like a stiffer version of crepes, and of course- more coffee in his coffee pot.

Tommy didn’t know what to say as he saw his teammates get comfortable in his kitchen, “You guys didn’t have to do this.”

Melton was the first to respond, first with a scoff and then with a “I think the word you’re looking for is “Good morning, this smells great!””

Tommy gave his teammate a sheepish “Sorry”, getting a smack on the shoulder from Lucy, “It really does smell great.” He tried again.

“We know.” Ashara grinned, “Morning Danny.” The little boy gave her a shy wave, lightening the mood in the kitchen for a bit. Ashara pointed to the rooms down the hall, “You two wash up, breakfast should be ready in a bit.”

Tommy and Daniel washed up, it was cute to see Daniel mimic him. Looking up at Tommy for approval as Daniel brushed his teeth and wash his face. “Look at you look all bright eyed now.” Tommy teased, “You ready? Let’s go change out of these pjs.”

“Ready!” Daniel squealed excitedly, “Up pease.” He lifted his arms up, making little grabby hands as Tommy picked him up and “flew” Daniel (plane noises and all) to his room to change.

“Oh that is adorable!” Lucy clapped her hands as the Tommy and Daniel came into the kitchen wearing matching gray hoodies and jeans.

“He looked too cool so I just had to dress so I looked just as cool, right bud?” Tommy asked, poking Daniel in the cheek and getting an excited squeal back.

“So we got French toast sticks and scrambled eggs for Danny boy there.” Melton informed Tommy, pointing to the small plate of food and orange juice set aside for the toddler. “All kid approved food.”

Tommy eyed the meal as he got Daniel into his high chair, “Uh, I don’t know. Kid isn’t a picky eater. I’m sure he would inhale the omelet and those fried crepes.”

“Muqalab.” Ashara corrected, icily setting down a jar of honey next to said plate of muqalab.

“A non-picky 2 years old?” Lucy asked incredulously, eyeing Daniel playfully. “I’m not sure about that.” She pretended to scowl at the little boy, “You gonna be a big kid and eat an omelet?”

“Yesh!”

Tommy watched Lucy, Melton, and Ashara laugh at Daniel’s excitement. As the three got their plates ready, a weird heavy feeling began to set in Tommy’s stomach.

This felt like a family.

He was close to his team, but never this close.

Never “Let’s have breakfast at each other’s houses” close, it felt jarring.

He only had this in small doses, mainly with-

“Crap.” He quickly got up and ran to get his phone, answering the others’ concerning question of “What’s wrong?” with “I forgot I texted my sister last night!” He picked up his phone from the nightstand to see multiple missed calls and texts from his sister.

‘You little twerp! Answer your phone!’ was the last call he got from his sister, at 6 am.

Oh, he was a dead man.

Grant it, Sarah was only four years older than him and a whole eight inches shorter than him.

But she could still terrify him.

He called her back but only got her voice mail.

Maybe she was pissed?

He left a quick message, noting what happened with Daniel over night and that he was sorry that he had sprung the news about him being a foster dad on her so quick. “Love you, tell Chet and the kids I miss them.” He hung up, rubbing his face as headed back to the kitchen.

“You good?” Melton asked at the same time that Daniel went “Hi Tummy!”, the toddler was happily munching away on a piece of honey covered muqalab.

“Yeah,” Tommy replied, sitting down to the empty chair closest to Danniel’s highchair. “Hey kiddo.” Tommy happily accepted a piece of muqalab from Daniel. Melton patted him on the back, Ashara was trying to steal away a piece of strawberry from Daniel’s plate, much to Daniel’s chagrin, and Lucy was happily sipping her cup of coffee.

So…

This was what “Found Family” meant?

It was nice.

[3-2-whump]

Sequel is here

Hi everyone,

Thank you thank you thank you for sticking around for the follow-up story to Eternal. I want to acknowledge my beta readers @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz , who have probably read like five versions of this same damn chapter. Thank you for sticking it out with me you two, I couldn’t have done it without you ❤️

Some quick asides, I don’t know/can’t guarantee this is gonna have the same consistent updating schedule as the previous story. Irl nonsense like job woes and trying to apply to grad school have been demanding more of my energy than I’d like to give, but I will try to update regularly. Thanks for the understanding in advance 🙏🏽

Well, without further ado…

Mountain Bike

TW/CW: allusions to past whump. You could probably start the sequel without reading the first story, though, but if you want to know exactly what our main character is running from, I highly recommend The Morgue

Dr. Vikash Gill was having a great day today. He’d gotten up early, went to the gym a few blocks away from his house, and came back home to make a quick toast and coffee. He went well into his first few hours as a resident doctor in the emergency department without any serious injuries to treat. In the background, on every television and phone screen, news about the murder of a well-known mob boss spread like wildfire, with suspicious undertones of gang activity throughout the tight-lipped reporting from the news outlets. Now, he was on the way back to the hospital from his quick lunch break at the café around the corner, ready for another five or six hours of work.

Like most people in the medical profession, he loved and hated his job, and like most people in the medical profession, he had plenty of stories to tell. From bullet wounds to stabbings and a whole host of suspicious injuries in between, Vik had treated it all at this point, and he had received every fantastical story and explanation with an apathetic indifference.

Like his mentor Dr. Kimura had said, “We’re doctors, not detectives, the best thing we can do is to shut up, treat their wounds, and get them out the door ASAP,” or something like that. Whatever she told him almost a year ago seemed to stick though, as he stitched up every gang member and staunched the blood flow of every mafia soldier without so much as a blink of an eye.

There were more than a few times where Vik wished he had studied medicine in a small-town rural community instead, somewhere where the biggest injury was something normal like a tractor accident. During those times, he’d make himself remember the ‘mountain bike accident’ that he treated just over a year ago.

The man was a few years younger than him, according to his charts, but his small, skinny frame and big, sad eyes made him look even younger. He had a unique set of tattoos, singular black bands on his neck, wrists, and ankles. He came in completely naked with a broken nose, hand-shaped bruising all over his body, a torn rectum, and a back carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey. The older man who came in with him –Thomas J. Costa, the dead boss who most probably fucked with the wrong gang and found out– claimed all those wounds were merely a ‘mountain bike accident.’ Vik knew that was bullshit, yet there was nothing he could do at the time, being only a med student. Now, with a little more freedom and experience with being a licensed doctor, he hoped that he would be able to help that poor guy, and other people like him, should the opportunity ever come up again.

A chime went off on his phone just as he rounded the corner on his way back to work. Vik fished around his pockets for his phone, not looking where he was going until an unexpected force collided into him at speed. It knocked him back on his feet a little and pushed his glasses askew up his face. Vik completely forget about his phone for a second as he began to curse out the stranger who’d just run into him. “Hey! Watch it you-…wait…” Vik adjusted his glasses. The curses died on his tongue as he came face to face with a familiar young man with a dark floof of hair, the saddest dark brown eyes, and a visibly distinct tattooed band on his neck. He may have been fully clothed now, in a thick black hoodie and skinny jeans with a suspiciously growing red stain on the right thigh, but Vikash Gill would recognize that tattoo and those sad brown eyes anywhere. He remembered the ‘mountain bike accident’ that forced them to cross paths; he may never forget that night as long as he lived. “Mountain Bike?!” he asked incredulously.

“A doctor, oh thank god!” the stranger exclaimed. Whether it was Vik’s scrub pants, sweater emblazoned with the hospital logo, or his ID tag that tipped him off, the stranger visibly melted with relief before surging toward him with desperation. “Help me!” The young man’s chest was heaving as he panted around every word. His face shone with sweat and exertion.

Vikash took a step back. “With what?” he asked.

“I need to hide!”

He glanced around the corner where Mountain Bike had come from, but nobody was coming. “From whom? Why?” The stranger wobbled on his injured leg, and Vik instinctively reached out to catch him. “Did you do something? What did you do? What happened to your leg?” he demanded. It was clear that he had been running from something–or someone–and the desperation in the stranger’s eyes as he looked up at him put pressure on Vik.

“I didn’t do anything–well, okay, I might’ve headbutted my new owner and ran away–”

“Whoa, whoa, back up–what do you mean?”

Mountain Bike gripped onto the front of Vik’s jacket, locking eyes with him. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’m telling the truth!” he insisted. He stepped back to give the doctor more space. “Look, you remember me, right?” His eyes searched his hopefully as he put on a strained smile of friendliness. “You sewed up my back last year, do you remember?”

“Sure I do,” he answered, “but I don’t see how–”

“I’ve been held against my will the last several years and I finally have a chance to escape. I’m not making this up, I promise! Please, take out my tracker and I’ll be able to prove everything, just help me!” Mountain Bike begged.

“But, what about your leg?” Vik asked, watching the stranger wobble when he tried to put weight on it.

“Screw the leg! I’ll be fine, I need the thing that tells them where I am out of my body now!”

 “Still though,” Vik rationalized, shaking his head, “how can I trust you?” The guy seemed pathetic enough, but Vik didn’t know him, and wasn’t about to allow himself to be robbed blind or stabbed to death just because he felt sorry for someone.

Mountain Bike quickly detached from Vikash’s side, extending his arms outwards as he stood in a T-pose. “Search me. I’ve got no weapons, and I’m too weak to hurt you in any way that counts,” he said. He flapped his arms a little. “Well, go on, search me!” he urged.

What the fuck did I get myself into? Vik sighed, wondering how he was going to explain to work how late he was from lunch break. Still, the stranger’s jumpy movements and quiet desperation seemed like they were coming from a real place of fear. Vik reluctantly gave the stranger a rudimentary pat-down, like the ones he’d get at the airport. He didn’t miss the way Mountain Bike flinched under his touches, even though searching him was his idea. He stood at least a head taller than the man, so he was able to catch a glimpse of black ink behind his ears. A barcode, and ‘TJC’? He frowned, thinking there might be some credibility to Mountain Bike’s story after all. The enigmatic little puzzle pieces that surrounded Mountain Bike for a year had finally started to assemble into a picture of what had really occurred that night in the emergency department. Once he confirmed that Mountain Bike was unarmed, he stepped back, and the stranger dropped his arms from the T-position. “Okay, you’re unarmed,” he confirmed. “But, how do I know you’re telling the truth? No offense, but I hear a lot of tall tales in my line of work. How do I know you’re in danger and this isn’t some kind of mental breakdown?”

Mountain Bike let out a pained sound somewhere between a groan and a whine. “Come on, man! Do I gotta show you everything?”

Vik fell back on concussion check protocol. “What’s your name and date of birth? What date is it today?” he asked

Mountain Bike sighed. “Khaled Bakhsk, November 22, 1999. Today’s February 22, 2022,” he recited with a roll of his eyes. “I can’t give you the exact time it is, but it’s after noon. Now come on, take me to the hospital and take out my tracker?” Mountain Bike begged.

“Why do you even have a tracker?” Vik asked.

“Because. I’m. A. Slave,” Mountain Bike spelled out. He huffed a frustrated sigh. “You know what, I don’t know what it’ll take for you to believe me, but if you at least find it and take it out, I swear I will never bother you again!” His voice was edged with desperation as he cast Vik the saddest, darkest puppy-dog eyes underneath his long lashes. “Please?”

And honestly, if this stranger was telling him the truth, would Vikash Gill be able to live with himself if he knew he just let this guy be enslaved again? “Fine,” Vik relented, “but I’ll need to find the tracker first, and even when I find it, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to extract it immediately. Besides–” he cast a furtive glance down at Mountain Bike’s bloody thigh, “–you should at least let me treat your leg first.” He followed the seeping blood trail with his eyes, brows furrowed in concern.

Mountain Bike–er, Khaled’s face lit into a grin as he dropped to his knees and hugged Vikash’s legs. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank–”

“Okay, stop that. Get up,” Vik replied, uncomfortable with both the sudden infringement on his personal space and the over exaggerated gratitude Mountain Bike displayed. “Let’s patch up that leg!” He directed the stranger to follow him to the hospital, where he could be evaluated and get whatever kind of help he needed.

“Remember these words: pencil, dragon, phone, spoon,” he told him. Vik still couldn’t rule out the possibility of a head injury, and one of the tests for a potential concussion involved memorizing a string of words and repeating them back. Mountain–Khaled didn’t respond.Well, it was a great day for Dr. Vikash Gill, but now it was just kind of a weird one.

Le Tag List for The Recovery Arc (also if you want on or off, nbd, just let me know 👍🏼) (also if I missed anybody I am so sorry, I haven’t had to make one of these in a long time 🥺)

@kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz

@bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@defire @phoenixpromptsandstuff @scumashling

[zannolin]

AS THE PEOPLE COMMAND ME ! so if you will recall in the actual text of the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe, when the children first find the wardrobe in the upstairs room, there is mention of there being a dead fly on the windowsill. tiny detail, whatever. well, in the scene in the film where lucy discovers the wardrobe, they included a brief shot of a fly dying on one of the windowsills.

wow! thinks little me. what dedication to accuracy to the text! what a fun tiny detail for avid fans to notice!

but it's actually way more fun than that. it's not JUST that they included that detail; it's the level of dedication that went into it, as with so many other parts of this film, but this was one of the ones i first learned of. according to segments of anna popplewell's diary included in the illustrated film companion (which, btw, i highly recommend) the humane society wouldn't allow any animals (including flies) to be killed or harmed for the making of the movie, so what did they do? they used a frozen fly and recorded footage of it thawing out (and, i presume but could be incorrect here) played it backward to achieve the effect of a dying fly. and i've been obsessed with that detail ever since i first read about it, even before i learned all the other ways they put so much effort into lww as a movie.

so there's your narnia fun fact for the day, courtesy of anna popplewell and the film companion.

ask me about the frozen fly in Narnia. I'll be normal about it I swear.

[gingerbreadmonsters]

I FORGOT TO TELL HER THAT I LOVE HER SO

[benevolenterrancy]

May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home

[jojo-schmo]

Zaps myself with a bunch of different Kirby species lasers!!

How many ways can a four pointed star, scalloped hems, and bow ties be worn? :D