#yeah this is main tag worthy I think

[rootspice]

When Dr. Vicedomini brings up how Jacks biological father is still alive when trying to convince him that he doesn’t have FFI, it’s very telling to me that Jacks first response is that of course. Bad people who deserve to die always continue to live. It definitely says something about what Jack thinks about himself that Jack thinks good people always die early and bad people outlive them. He describes his father as a hurricane that hurts people, do you think he thinks of himself in the same way. How many of his fathers traits both physical and in character do you think Jack recognizes in himself.

[squipdop]

sorry im a god gale truther btw i DO think he should get to usurp mystra and ascend to godhood and i do think that should be an absolutely awful thing to happen to him but also literally everyone else. sorry

[zepskies]

The Honorable Choice - Part 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: The last chapter! Hold on, it's about to get bumpy...

Disclaimer: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

**Pronunciation guide at the end!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, smut (mutual masturbation, fingering, and more), angst, and fluff.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 3: Worthy

They travel together for two more days. Dean isn’t really a talkative man, but inevitably, he finds himself speaking to fill the comfortable stretches of quiet plodding across the grasslands.

He tells her about growing up on his family’s farm, where his father was firm but fair, and a larger-than-life presence when Sam and Dean were kids. His mother though, she was the only one who could ever go toe to toe with John Winchester and win.

“She tamed him,” Mila remarks with a smile. Dean’s lips quirk in response.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he chuckles, “but he knew he couldn’t pull a whole lot of shit with Mom. She’s a real pistol when she’s gotta be.”

Talking about them makes his heart heavy and sobers his mood, so he deflects with other stories, other chapters of his life. 

He talks about going through basic training alongside Benny Lafitte. As privates, Dean pranked his friend by filling his lumpy old pillow with raw eggs and chicken feathers. In retaliation, Benny swapped Dean’s morning coffee with actual dirt and hot water. Their boyish games escalated until they were nearly kicked out of the military.

Dean managed to smooth things over though. He’s always had a way of charming people, even the gruff Sergeant Major, Bobby Singer.

Mila admits that she and her cousin Šóta used to sneak out of the village when they were younger. He taught her how to climb trees, how to fight and protect herself, and how to ride a horse astride, like a man. He was the only one who ever encouraged her to have the “free mind” her mother dreamed about.

The more she confides in him, her eyes sparking with life and her hands gesticulating along with her words, the more Dean listens.  

On the third day, it’s nearing mid-afternoon when Dean slows Baby to a stop. After miles and miles of forest and grassland covered, they’ve finally approached a large, wide river. Mila stops beside him.

“My tribe lives beyond the river,” she says, “but the current is strong now.”

Dean looks over at her. A question he hasn’t wanted to ask crops back up. He feels that now is the time to voice it.

“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”

Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.

“I will protect you,” she says.

Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Mila…”

“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”

Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.

He’s still not convinced, but at this point, he really doesn’t have many options. It’s either take his chances with her tribe, or become a vagabond. He’s not sure how long he could survive in wilds of the West alone, especially while trying to dodge military patrols.

In the past three days, it’s taken Dean all that time to come to terms with a simple fact. He’ll likely never see his brother again, or his mother. It’s a pain that cuts into him deeply, down to his bones. It stings behind his eyes.

But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be.

He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.

With that decision made, Dean expels a long, somewhat faltering breath. He locks away the rest of his uncertainty, his apprehension, and even his grief. He hides deep inside, where she won’t see it. 

“All right, the current doesn’t look too bad over here,” he says, pointing to farther north along the river. “The horses can make it.”

Mila nods in agreement. She still looks uneasy, though she tries to hide it too. She ventures ahead into the river. Dean follows close behind.

The water is shallow at first, but it all too quickly gets deeper. The horses plod over the river stones and vegetation under the surface, and the humans are led deeper, until they’re submerged into the water up to their waists.

It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.

That’s why he’s able to act fast when Mato slips, dunking Mila under the water. She gasps and tries to cling onto him, but the current is fierce. It pushes Mato down the river no matter how much he scrambles and kicks at the water, braying wildly in distress.

Shit! Dean tugs sharply at Baby’s reigns and strives to catch up to them. He grabs Mato’s reigns and pulls and pulls, until he and Baby are able to drag him to the other side of the river where he can get a foothold with his hooves.

Mila is starting to fall off his back. She struggles to cling on while the river pushes at her, with her wet hair falling in her eyes. Dean leans back as far as he can to try and pull her up.

“It’s okay, I’ve gotcha,” he calls out, even though his heart hammers with alarm.

She reaches out for his hand in turn. Just as his fingers begin to close over hers, a wave from the current crashes into her. A short scream tears from her throat after she loses her grip on Mato’s neck. Without her weight, he’s able to pull himself back up onto the bank along with Baby.

Damn it! Gut-wrenching alarm spears Dean into action. He leaps down from Baby and removes his gloves, his hat, and his uniform jacket, so he can dive into the water. Thank God he’s a strong swimmer.

Mila seems to be too. She carves through the water against the current the best she can and tries to keep her head above the waves, but Dean can see it’s a losing battle. He manages to grab hold of her arm, and then wraps an arm around her waist to keep her close. Both of them work together to try and cling to any passing rock or low-hanging vine as the current sweeps them out toward an ultimate end.

A waterfall.

Of course. Goddamn it. Dean doesn’t know how steep it is on the other side, and he doesn’t want to know. All he’s trying to do is keep himself and Mila above the water.

She hooks her hand around a sharp rock. It bites into her hand, making her cry out, but she clings to it for all she’s worth. She holds onto Dean just as tightly, even though the current wants to take him. She tries to pull him closer, close enough for him to get a hold on the rock as well.

This time, it’s Dean who loses his footing. The rocks slip beneath the soles of his feet when he attempts to gain some leverage.

A shout of surprise escapes from him when he fails, and it gets swallowed up by water rushing down his throat.

“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.

The river takes him over the edge of the abyss, and he falls.

He never expected that he would get to open his eyes again, let alone to the sight that greets him. Mila’s familiar face, framed by the dark, drying waves of her hair, is bright with firelight. It dances in orange-gold across her features. Her eyes are warm like rich molasses when she looks down and finds him awake.

She smiles in relief.

He realizes that he’s lying on soft grass with his head pillowed in her lap. She’s taken off his boots and half of his white undershirt; she tore one of his sleeves to wrap around a mercifully shallow gash in his shoulder.

The horses are drinking from the river nearby, with a pile of apples split between them. There’s a fish roasted over the fire, but all Dean cares about is the way her fingers are running through his hair. She sings a soft song under her breath while she passes her other hand over his injured arm without touching it.

He doesn’t understand the words, but he thinks she might be trying to heal him. He’s heard plenty of stories about the Sioux people, most he’s taken with a grain of salt. He does remember Cas saying that their healers are different from doctors.  

Dean’s never given their hoodoo much thought, but right about now, he hopes it works.

“Mornin’,” he croaks.

Mila’s relieved face becomes touched with amusement.

“It’s night,” she says. “You slept for a long time.”

Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble. 

“Thank you,” she says. Emotion is thick in her voice.

Dean meets her eyes again, and he smiles. He raises the back of his hand to touch her smooth cheek, gently. He lets his fingers glide across her tan skin, down the column of her neck. Her breath hitches.

She takes his calloused hand in her slender one. Her long hair falls like a curtain over her shoulder, almost like it’s shielding them from whatever is left to come for them beyond the forest. Dean wraps an ebony strand around his finger, just to feel it fall loosely again.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says.

Mila graces him with another smile from her lips. He wants to know what they taste like.

“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly.

Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown.

“Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says.

Her brows raise. “No?”

“Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man.”

“Toothsome. I don’t know this word,” she admits. “Am I supposed to eat you?”

Dean resists the urge to say the first incorrigible thing that pops into his head. Instead, his body shakes with laughter.

It’s difficult at first, all his muscles pulling at him in protest, but he raises himself into a sitting position. He cups Mila’s cheek, dragging his thumb across her lower lip. Her lashes are dark and long. They move when she looks up at him. He knows the look in her eyes, wanting, desiring, but also unsure of what she should allow him.

Dean leans in slowly, giving her time to decide.

She tilts her face up to his. He noses at her cheek, his eyes falling closed along with hers.

He finds her lips with his own on instinct and feeling alone. Soft and tender movements, testing, asking.

She answers him. Her fingers tangle in the front of his tattered shirt as her lips begin to move against his. Dean wraps an arm around her waist and gathers her against his chest. His other hand glides down her arm, down her side and along every soft curve. Her clothes are still damp, and so are his.

“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.

“I can’t,” she gasps. She says something in her native tongue, too fast for Dean to even register. He slows down so he can meet her eyes.

“What was that?” he asks. Her face falls, and she starts to trip over her words.

“I am not…how you say, married. I have to be…”

Dean smiles ruefully, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Chaste?” he offers. She nods, her brows furrowed. Her grip on his shirt tightens.

“Yes,” she says. “In the eyes of my people, it is…”

“I get it,” Dean says. When she still seems conflicted, he presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“Really, I understand,” he says.

His problem is that he stares into her eyes too long, and at her kiss-swollen lips. He dives back in for another taste.

This time, he’s a little less gentlemanly than he promised. His tongue sweeps along her lower lip, begging entrance. She makes a sound of surprise, but she opens up to him. Her gentle hands slide up his chest to hold his face, and her thumbs stroke his cheeks. He holds one of her wrists to keep her there as his tongue dances with hers. She tastes like the river, and like salty tears.

Had she cried for him? How long did she sit with his body, waiting to see if he would wake up?

Despite those worrying thoughts, Dean knows this feels right. More right than he’s ever felt.

It’s harder than he might’ve imagined, but he still pulls away, before he won’t be able to stop himself. Mila pants for breath. She seems to feel she should let him go, but also doesn’t show any sign of wanting to. Smiling, Dean caresses her cheek one more time before he turns to the fish she roasted.

“This looks good,” he says, clearing his throat. “What kinda fish is this?”

With a sigh, she attempts to steady herself and moves to join him by the fire.

That night, Mila dreams.

She dreams of wings, white and beautiful. She hears the cry of an eagle before she sees his great wingspan take off in flight. He soon finds his mate, and they dance together in the sky. 

When she wakes, the fire has gone out and it’s still dark in the night. It takes her a moment to realize that she’s safe. Finally safe.

And she’s lying securely in Dean’s arms.

She’s no longer conflicted when she stares up at his face.

She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize…

Her heart has already chosen.

“Kimmímila, what have you done?” her uncle asks in the language of their people.

He is Tahatan, Chief of their tribe.

Mila’s father, Chatan, and her cousin Šóta have tied Dean Winchester to a post in the center of the Chief’s large tipi. Dean kneels with his head bowed in respect, even though he keeps sneaking looks at Mila to try and gauge what’s happening. He doesn’t understand a word of any of it.

“You’ve brought this outsider into our village, this White Man!” Tahatan shouts, his voice deep and resounding.

Mila steps forward, despite her mother’s embarrassment and her father trying to grab her shoulder. For the second time in her life, she defies her father for what she believes is right. The first was to rescue a member of their tribe—because even a horse’s spirit should not be broken by greed.

“Uncle, I’ve told you the story, though you don’t want to believe it,” she says. “Dean Winchester saved me when he could have killed me, or worse. He defied his own people. He is dead to his own people, for me, and because of me. You may think they lack all honor, but this man is different.”

She looks over at Dean, and he meets her gaze. He wears an anxious frown as he looks between her and the chief, but she has a feeling that his fear is for her, not for himself.

She kneels beside him, then looks up at her uncle with all the stubbornness she’s ever possessed in her life. She feels it’s led her to exactly this moment.

“And we are one,” she says. Nerves trill up her spine as she says it. She predicts the way shock falls over the room. The way her father curses out loud, angry. The way her mother covers her mouth in dismay. The way the Chief takes a step back, tilting his head at his niece.

“You would take it that far?” he asks.

Her face doesn’t change. “It’s already done.”

Tahatan is beside himself, both angry and perplexed. He goes back to his chair of wicker and wood that lies centered in the room. He drops heavily into it. After a long while, in which he thinks in silence…he releases a heavy sigh. He gestures for his brother and his son to untie Dean. The men do so, but they don’t let him go free. They force him to stand and bring him forward to kneel again before the Chief.

“Dean Winchester,” Tahatan says.

“Yes, sir,” Dean replies.

“You prove yourself to be a man with honor,” he says in English. “Kimmímila has chosen you. She claims you have chosen her in return. Do you deny this?”

Dean glances over at her. She bites the inside of her lip, a bit worried about how he’ll react. She’s not sure he completely understands what Tahatan is telling him, but he nods, regardless.

“No, sir. I don’t deny it,” Dean says.

“Then, you will be allowed to stay, and live among us,” Tahatan declares. "We will see for ourselves what you are. We will see if you are worthy."

Dean gives a nod, crossed with a bow of some kind. He obviously isn’t sure of what he’s supposed to do, but he does say thank you. Mila wraps her hands around his uninjured arm and helps him to his feet. She smiles at him to let him know that the worst is over. He blows out a breath in relief.

“Is that it?” he whispers. He expected more of a thrashing, if he’s honest.

“Almost,” she replies. The two of them stop short before her father, Chatan.

Dean straightens up and holds out his hand. “Sir.”

Chatan glances down at the white hand extended toward him. His gaze raises back up to Dean. 

He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.

She seems satisfied by what she finds, and she lets him go. Afterward, she takes Mila’s hand and heaves a deep sigh.

She kisses her daughter’s hand and says nothing else, leaving them to find her husband and calm him down.

Dean turns to Mila with a look that says, please tell me that’s it.

She smiles more genuinely.

“Come,” she says.

She leads him by the hand out of the Chief’s tipi and through the village. Dean takes in the rows of other tall, cone-like structures covered in buffalo skin, as well as all the faces that turn to stare at him in a mix of curiosity, wariness, and even fear. Some of them whisper to each other, taking their children by the hand and keeping them close.

Dean’s still on guard himself, even when Mila takes him to a smaller tipi. It’s been closed up for a while now, by the look of it. Weeds have grown right outside the entrance. 

“This one’s yours?” Dean asks.

She pauses, giving him another small smile. “Ours.”

Dean raises a brow. Ours. Really?

She opens the flap in the front and beckons him inside. There’s still enough daylight to shine through the outer lining. Inside, his gaze flits over the old pile of stones in the center for heating, clothes folded in the corner, some cooking pots and utensils, paintings on wood and clay, and a couple of beaded decorations. Buffalo skin bedding is laid out on the other side with a couple of soft looking furs. 

Son of a gun. Dean doesn’t even blink as he processes it all. He’s in a damn tipi. This is really about to become his life.

Shaking his head a little, he forces himself to focus on Mila. She’s his anchor, and she seems to sense that he’s reeling. She guides him to sit beside her on the bedding, holding his hands in hers. After a moment, he reaches up to tuck a curling strand of hair behind her ear.

“You didn’t get in too much trouble because of me, did you?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No. My father and uncle are very similar. Strong to anger, but it is quick to run out. At least with me.”

Dean thinks he understands. Short fuse, quick fizzle.

“There is just…one thing,” Mila says. Her eyes fall away from his, like she’s embarrassed. He squeezes her hands.

“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing. It gets her to look at him again, but she seems worried to tell him.

“To convince my uncle to let you stay, I told them that we…” she trails, trying to find the right words in English. “That we are married.”

Dean’s brows raise high. His heart trips up faster. Okay, “ours” makes a lot more sense now.

“I am sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t want you hurt—”

“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”

In fact, this is a best-case scenario, as far as he’s concerned. He leans in to kiss her, and it doesn’t take long at all for her to sigh in relief, melting against him.

“We’re married, huh?” he asks. “No ceremony? No white dress?”

“We are bonded,” she replies, nodding as she meets every one of his kisses. “Or, we will be.”

She tugs him closer and revels in the feeling of his hands beginning to roam her body, sliding down her waist, her hips and thighs.

“Guess that means we have to seal the deal,” he grins. His lips drift away from hers to burn a familiar path across her cheek. He takes to nibbling her ear, making her flinch and laugh as it tickles.

“Seal-the-deal. What does that mean?” she asks.

Dean chuckles lowly in her ear. “Oh, I think you know.”

He guides her onto her back, over the comfortable mess of furs. He wants to take his time exploring every inch of soft, tan skin, but he first sweeps her hair away from her eyes, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She smiles up at him softly.

“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?”

Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others.

It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life. 

“No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”

He bows his head toward hers, and he proves it to her. His lips capture hers, fueled by passion and wanting. Mila’s hands slide over his shoulders and down his back. Maybe without her realizing it, she implores him to let go of the weight heaped on his shoulders.

When he begins to bunch up the hem of her dress, she sits up to help guide his hands. Her quickening breaths mesh with his as the first layer of clothing drops beside the bedding. His tattered shirt joins her dress, along with pants and shoes and boots, until all that’s left is skin against warm, bare skin. He lays on his side right beside her and explores wherever she lets him begin.  

“Beautiful,” Dean murmurs, as his lips follow the column of her neck, down between her breasts. Her breaths rise to meet him, especially when he begins to toy with a dark, pebbled nipple. Her fingers slip through his hair, and his name falls from her lips. He palms one breast while kissing and gently teasing the other, exploring sensitive flesh and grazing her sensitive fleshwith his teeth.

“No man’s ever touched you?” he asks, despite knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as his lips and tongue move against her skin.

“No,” Mila gasps a reply. Her hand slides down the back of his neck, and the more he teases her, her nails soon create faint red lines down his back, her thighs squeezing together. She feels a throbbing ache at the very center of her. Despite her inexperience with men, she knows what it means, and she knows what she wants.

Dean’s mouth drags away from her breast. He pulls back so he can meet her eyes. A smile curves his lips, and he takes one of her hands from his shoulders. 

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asks. He guides her hand down her body, brushing over a wet, sensitive nipple, down her stomach, and between her legs. This time, Mila nods in answer. She stares up at Dean with eyes like molten honey. He leans in to kiss her neck.

“Show me,” he says.

She shudders at the depths in his voice. It increases the flood of wetness she already feels, even before she slips two fingers between the folds of her sex. She gathers some of that slick and circles it over the source of her pleasure, the small nub above her entrance.

Dean takes his hardened length in his hand. While she writhes by her own hand, he drinks her in with his eyes. A soft groan falls from his lips as he pumps himself a few times, sliding a thumb across the weeping head of his cock.

He can’t be a spectator for long though. He nips tantalizingly at her neck, creating a zing of added sensation across her skin. She whimpers, though she tries to stifle it, her knee bending further.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dean says. “Let me hear you.”

He releases himself and replaces her hand with his own. He slips two long fingers inside her drenched entrance, earning a gasping moan from her. She latches onto his shoulders and buries her face into his neck. She whispers fervent things he doesn’t understand, but it only spurs him on.

His thumb circles insistently over her clit as his fingers pulse inside her. Her hips buck a needy rhythm against his hand, until her thighs begin to shake, and her inner walls squeeze even tighter around his fingers.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he pants gruffly against her cheek. “Let go for me.”

Warmth snaps and floods from her throbbing core, and she cries out near his ear, her nails biting into his skin. Her release coats his fingers.

Mila drops her head back against the furs underneath her. Her chest rises and falls quickly while she tries to catch her breath, her eyes tightly shut. Dean surprises her with a soft kiss.

“Mila,” he prods. He wants to see her eyes again, so pretty and wanton when she comes. He veers away from her lips to kiss her cheek, and then the other side of her neck. “Let me see you, sweetheart.”

She huffs a small laugh. Opening her eyes, she gestures to her bare body. “This is not enough?”

Dean’s lips tug at a smile. He shakes his head. “As a matter of fact, no.”

He shifts over her, finding his place between the cradle of her thighs. His elbows come to rest on either side of her head. She feels trapped by his body, even as she welcomes his weight and the feeling of his arousal, long and heavy and hard, trapped between their bodies. This man fills every corner of her world in this moment.

“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection.

“All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.” 

Dean chuckles. “You sure about that?”

She smiles in satisfaction, and her lips claim him this time. One kiss turns into many, each one mounting in passion and desire. Dean groans into her when she begins to touch him. Her hands are soft, but direct in their seeking; they caress his shoulders, run down his chest and stomach, and then, more tentatively explore the now painfully hard length of him pressing against her.

He makes a grateful sound of pleasure when her hand wraps around his cock, squeezing gently. His fingers bury themselves in her hair.

“I want all of you,” she says, this time a plea and a demand all at once as she strokes him.

Dean nods in agreement. He’s come this far. He can do that for her too.

He spreads her thighs a bit wider and encourages her to adjust the angle of her hips for him. His hand glides down her plush thigh and gets a healthy grip. Then he slides his hand under hers and guides his cock through her folds, first just holding himself at her warm, wet entrance.

He manages to wait for a second, in order to meet her gaze. She’s already holding onto his arms tightly, like he’s become her anchor. Her thighs wrap around his hips and beckon him closer.

Slowly, he pushes inside. He takes care in how he works her open. She winces at the sting of his girth stretching her, but his fingers once again massage her clit, stroking her arousal back into a keening flame. He swallows her gasps and moans as he bottoms out inside her, fully sheathed. Tears prick at her eyes, but not from pain.

Mila’s dream flashes like a waking vision behind her eyes. Wings take flight, along with the gleam of a golden beak and a sharp eye.

She blinks, and the image disappears. She’s left with the man who has become hers, making love to her with every stroke of him deep inside her. She presses grateful kisses across his neck and shoulder, wherever she can reach while she clings to his strong arms.

The thick head of him brushes a sensitive place over and over, one that tightens the coil in her lower belly and makes her core tremble again with warmth, until her body convulses against him, pulsing in pleasure, gripping him tight from the inside. Mila’s fingers clench in his hair just as tightly as her release hits her in a powerful wave; even her voice becomes lost to it.

Gritting his teeth, Dean grips the soft flesh of her hip and chases his own end. The way her inner walls choke his cock, he has no choice but to come hot inside her, his spend mixing with her own release. A strangled shout tears from his throat.

He has to brace himself before he crushes her. With his forearms resting on either side of her head, he lowers his forehead against hers. Her legs slip from where they’ve been tightly molded to his hips, her feet meeting the floor. Eventually he slips out of her. He watches his seed drip out and create a mess on the dark furs. The sight of it satisfies something primal deep inside him.

Later he’ll ask her about washing up (and about supper), but for now, he just turns onto his back beside her. She inches toward him, and he raises an arm so she can splay out against his side. They both lay there for a moment in the quiet, just catching their breath together. It marks the end of a long journey, and yet, the start of one too.

Mila turns to raise onto her elbow. She reaches over to wipe the sweat from his brow in a tender touch. Dean smiles up at her. He takes her hand and presses a kiss into her palm.

“I could get used to this,” he says.

Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she laughs softly. “Yes.”

Her hand moves down to his chest, over his heart. She sobers as she considers her people, and how much trust has yet to be bridged—not only her own father and uncle, but the entire tribe. When she led him through the village, they called him wašíču.

Fat-taker. Greedy White. Not one of us.

“It will be hard for you here,” Mila says. She worries it will be too hard for Dean.  

He just squeezes her hand, earning her attention through tumultuous thoughts.

“I’m not afraid of a little hard work,” Dean replies. His usual confident charm is infused in his smile, but she has a feeling he’s just trying to reassure her.

Sensing she’s not convinced, Dean reaches up to hold her cheek, guiding her to look at him and not the floor.

“Listen. I made my choice, and I’m sticking it out, come hell or high water,” he says.

Mila’s brows knit together. “Hell-or-high… What does that mean?”

Dean sits up on his elbow along with her. He takes her chin between his fingers and meets her gaze.

“It means if you want me, you’ve got me. The rest, we’ll figure out as we go along,” he says.

A smile slowly lightens Mila’s face. She tilts her chin up to meet him with a kiss.

“I will be with you,” she says. It’s a promise.

Dean smiles back.

“Good,” he says. “Because that’s just about all I need.”

AN: There we have it, friends. 💜 I really, truly hope you enjoyed this mini series! To be honest, I have more ideas for this little world (like how Dean might try to assimilate into this culture), but I'll leave it to you guys to let me know if that's something you'd be interested in reading.

Until then, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter! 

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew")

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@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @ajjustice

@ades106 @my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof

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@jays-bonnie-on-the-side @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @ghostslillady

[wellofdean]

OK, I was going to reblog this excellent post by @luckshiptoshore so go read it, because yes. Yes!! YES!!! But then when I got started my post got super long and I felt bad tacking it onto her post and decided to make my own in response to these tags:

#i am actually a bit obsessed by the whole hunting as queerness metaphor#it’s so clearly something everyone involved in the show is thinking about#supernatural

Gurl, me too! Like go back to the start! By the time Supernatural began, the backlash against the Joseph Campbell Monomyth-style mode of storytelling had already begun in the hallowed halls of USC film school, and yo: I was there at the time of Kripke's graduation, and my best friends from college are full scale big giant time filmmakers now, whose names I will not share on main because it's uncool, and I don't want that attention, but... yeah. I am referencing FIRST HAND SOURCES on this.

But, for a real source? The Oxford English Dictionary places the first use of the term "Queer Theory" in 1990, with Queer Studies as an option in the academy by 1992. I know the kids think it's a new-fangled thing, but Kripke graduated USC in 1996 (I graduated in 1995) and it was ALL THE RAGE by then. My friends read queer theory in their Critical Studies courses in the Film School, I read it in the College of Humanities getting my degree in Literature. By that time, you could not get through that school with any degree in any non-STEM subject without knowing about ye olde postmodern lenses, queer and feminist theory, and without knowing how to employ those lenses.

Queer refers to sexuality, yes, but the word's earliest use (again, according to the OED) is in the 1500's, meaning: strange, odd, peculiar, eccentric. Also: of questionable character; suspicious, dubious.

So, ok, in 2005, Enter Supernatural, episode 1:

Presented? Two brothers. One actively seeking credit in the straight world that is not available to him in the bosom of his family: Stanford, law school, hot co-ed girlfriend, the other bound to his fractured, wounded family by duty, yes, but also by love, living on the fringe, alone, fighting monsters, and chasing after his father's approval, and who has long since given up any dream of being 'normal'. Episode 1 presents Sam's call to adventure, which he refuses when it's just familial duty, honor and love calling him, but accepts when the show takes a very straightforward and very telling path by classically fridging his woman. Ok, now he's on board. Like John, whose motivation is another dead woman, his motivation is revenge. So far so straight!

Dean though: he's different. He is already on the adventure and he was not 'called' or given the option of accepting or refusing because he had no agency when his feet were set upon this road. He does not fit the straight world at all, because he is cobbled together out of love, duty, deep guilt, striving, desperation and fear. This is who he is now, in some elemental, incontrovertible way. It was not a choice for him, he was born to it. His mother is dead, and we later learn, she made the choices that brought them all to this fate. Dean remembers her idyllically, but he is not motivated by revenge, more than any other thing, he wants to be worthy. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love.

Enter Supernatural's main theme: fucked up relationships between men enmeshed in patriarchy, which will eventually expand to include fucking GOD HIMSELF.

And like, there are SO MANY CLEAR STEPS ALONG THE ROAD in season one, and I am not even talking about sexuality and gender here, but there is SO MUCH TO SAY about it in season 1. But I am not talking about that -- I am talking at a structural, narrative level, the whole thing is just fucking all the way queered, yo.

The big climax?

At the end of the season, Dean says: "I just want my family back together. You, me, Dad... it's all I have." He is Sam's mother, John's partner! His vulnerability and emotion is feminized and contrasted with Sam and John's more overtly driven by their more masculine/straight heroic revenge quest. John: "Sam and I can get pretty obsessed, but you always take care of this family." Only that's not John talking, it's Azazel, and Dean knows it is because his father would never forgive how soft he is, how he will always choose love and family over revenge. Then, in the end, the show makes a huge point of telegraphing that Sam is finally aligning with Dean by refusing to shoot Azazel because he's possessing John, and Sam just can't do that to Dean.

Sam and Dean are thus bound together and cemented into a marginalised path, living on the road, haunting liminal spaces and cheap motels, confronting the monstrous everyday. Sam is presented as the brains of the operation, he does research, logics his way through things (masculine) while Dean is the heart who acts impulsively and on instinct and intuition (feminine).

It later transpires that Sam has a piece of the monster inside himself, and Dean has to learn to love the monstrous, he has no choice, because Sam is his brother and then Cas... and, and, and!

Like... I could go on and on, citing ENDLESS EXAMPLES. This could be a literal book. Maybe one you need to read with a magnifying glass like my condensed edition of the OED. LIke, the queerness of Supernatural is DIZZYING and MYRIAD.

But basically? FROM THE START, hunting is a queered version of family, and within that, Dean is a queered version of a Campbellian hero. Hunting is a metaphor for otherness and liminality, and that's even before you say a WORD about sex. It starts in deviation from the norms of family, masculinity and expands from there on so many levels both in story and on a meta level. The story is flesh on queer fucking bones.

I'm so sorry, but anyone who thinks queerness was not BAKED INTO Supernatural and more specifically into Dean from DAY 1 has clearly never seen Dean's insane lip gloss in season 1, and vastly underestimates the cultural awareness of people who write shit in Hollywood, and also the other people who put pink lip gloss on pretty boys in Hollywood. Nothing that gets on your screen wasn't a fucking choice made and approved by a LONG LIST of people who know what they are about.

[jinnie-ret]

STRAY KIDS MYSTERY INCORPORATED: WHO ATE THE LUCK?!

episode one

ot8 stray kids

❀ genre: comedy, horror, fluff

❀ content warnings: mention of hypnosis

❀ word count: 2.9k-ish

❀ summary: all eight of them were settled down and cosy, ready to spend halloween together as a group, but it's felix's mistaken purchase that lands them where they are

a/n: hi everyone! Really excited to post this first part to my Halloween series of 2024! If you would like to be tagged then you can always reply to this post, pm me or even send in an ask! Hope you enjoy <3

SKMI: WHO ATE THE LUCK? MAIN MASTERLIST

“-like, nothing is screaming out at me right now,” Felix shook his head, lips pursed in concentration and eyes flitting back and forth as he scanned the shelves in the downtown video shop. The unfortunate phrasing caused Jisung to decide to scream into his ear and then frighten him in the process, Felix turning around and softly punching him on the shoulder. Jisung just chuckled in response.

“I screamed at you,” Jisung laughed again.

“What? I can’t hear anymore,” Felix rubbed the left side of his head, one of his hands covering his ear in protection. The two youngest, however, didn’t even bother to look over at the bickering of the sunshine twins. They had bigger priorities on their maknae line shopping trip.

“No, nope, nah,” Seungmin boredly ran his finger across some DVDs, bored of the same old Halloween films.

“Oh we should watch Nightmare on Elm Street!” Jeongin suggested, picking the case up off of the dusty shelves.

“Really?” Seungmin turned to Jeongin, curious of his choice, “Freddy Krueger just isn’t that scary though.”

“Yeah, he is,” Jisung shuddered, taking the DVD away from Jeongin and placing it back on the shelf.

“Hyung!”

“What do you find scary then, Seungmin-ah?” Felix moved away from where he had previously been browsing, and stood next to his fellow member.

Seungmin’s gaze drifted up at the ceiling as he tried to think of something that actually did cause him fear.

“And don’t say Minho hyung,” Felix cut in just as Seungmin had experienced a lightbulb moment.

“Dammit… Well, I don’t know, then. Even Groundskeeper Willy is creepier as Freddy than Freddy is himself. The Simpsons really went all out, but it wasn’t scary,” Seungmin considered for a moment, sighing at the lack of selection in the shop.

“Oh yeah! The Simpsons was so good. We used to have those Halloween episodes on DVD,” Felix clapped his hands excitedly at the memory.

“I think we used to have some on tape when I was younger,” Jisung added. The boys continued to chat amongst themselves, sharing childhood favourites as they reminisced over the titles they saw. However, it was that keyword, ‘tape’, that caught the attention of the kooky old shopkeeper, thick framed glasses with an orange beaded chain that contrasted greatly with her curly, grey hair.

She ducked into the back of the shop, which was sectioned off from the public area. Most would assume it was just where spare stock was kept to replace items that would eventually be sold, but it was also for her special collection of items - ones that only a few select people she deemed as worthy for the challenge would receive. After climbing up her mobile step ladder and grabbing her chosen artefact, she brought it towards the members, ready to persuade them to purchase.

“-there’s nothing saying we can’t pick something lighthearted to watch,” Jeongin suggested. Even with a plethora of options before them, they were stuck in a cycle of one idea being suggested and then shut down within the next minute.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance,” the old lady made her presence known, standing behind them with a big smile on her face and a tape machine in her hands.

“Oh! All of a sudden?” Jisung’s head whipped around so quickly he could probably qualify as something from The Exorcist.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” the other three proceeded to bow politely.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you discussing tapes, so I thought I’d show you something from out back,” she presented them with the tape machine in her hands, an old silver coating with a circular logo, ‘INTA’, plastered in the middle. The boys were none the wiser and thought she was such a sweet old lady, just doing her best to give good customer service.

“Oh wowww!” Felix nodded and grinned, taking the machine from her hands and looking at the object with fascination. Sure, it was computers and keyboards he liked to take apart, build and rework, but there was something entrancing about what he now held.

“Thank you, but we don’t have any tapes,” Seungmin tried to shut down the unneccessary payment.

“I have one that was specially released alongside this machine. Although, boys, I must let you in on a secret,” she whispered, making the boys share concerned yet intrigued looks.

“What is it?” Jeongin asked.

“There is only one version released in the whole world. I’ve got it here for you if you like? Have you ever watched The Scooby Doo Show?”

“What a sweet lady! I can’t believe she gave us a discount too,” Felix cheered happily, clutching a bag of goodies to his chest.

“She must have really wanted to get rid of this old VHS player,” Seungmin mentioned as they headed back to Hyunjin and Changbin’s place, the former being excited to decorate for Halloween.

“I don’t know, I think it was just good customer service. She heard us talking about tapes,” Jisung said in defence of the whimsical old woman.

“Hyung… you probably think good customer service is when the owner actually gives you your change,” Jeongin poked Jisung on the shoulder from behind, as he walked side by side with Felix.

“Yah! At least I didn’t nearly end up in a cult!”

Meanwhile, back at the Hyunbin apartment, the hyung line of the group were setting up the place to get ready for their spooky evening. Chan and Minho were tasked with getting food ready, the latter preparing the hot food and Chan doing his best to arrange the sweet snacks in an aesthetically pleasing way; he was instructed by Hyunjin to do so. Said guy was on decorating duty and he had roped in his cute housewife Changbin to do the heavy lifting.

“Why is this skeleton so heavy? It’s a skeleton!” Changbin whined as he carried the large structure into the lounge area.

“You said you wouldn’t complain,” Hyunjin tutted.

“Just tell me where you want it!” Changbin huffed, a tinge of desperation in his voice. He would have placed it down to give his muscular arms a break but he would have only been further scolded by Hyunjin for not treating the figure with more caution.

“Hmm, let's put it next to the TV,” Hyunjin nodded with approval, arms crossed and one hand cupping his chin as he appraised the haunting scene that had been created.

Intricately carved, orange pumpkins were illuminated by lit candles, projecting silhouettes of either sharp, scary faces or the Stray Kids logo (that last one was Chan’s hard work). They rested on a side table, which had fake cobwebs strewn up and across to the ceilings, even trailing over the blinds. The sheerness of these delicate furnishings were highlighted by the glowing green fairy lights hung alongside them, each LED encapsulated by a Frankenstein head. Minho had insisted on purchasing those, as it reminded him of the lyrics to Maniac. Everything else in the room was placed to only heighten the mood, little trinkets and knick knacks like black plastic bowls shaped like bats, light up skull heads and an oddly cute haunted house ornament, the words Oddinary House branded on the bottom of it.

“Perfect!” Hyunjin clapped his hands surveying his surroundings.

“Wow… this looks great!” Chan brought in some bowls of sweets, Minho on his toes with steaming hot plates of savoury foods to balance everything out.

“This smells so good,” Changbin groaned from the sofa now, ready to recharge after following Hyunjin’s commands for the past hour or so.

“Hands off, Dwaekki,” Minho playfully scolded, tapping Changbin’s hands so he kept them to himself, “the others aren’t even back yet.”

Just as if it was on cue, the other four boys returned, Seungmin being the one to unlock the door after earning the responsibility to borrow a spare key.

“Wow!”

“This looks sick”

“Woah the food smells good too!”

“It’s still hot too!”

They instantly made themselves comfy amongst the sofas and blanketed carpet, excited for their evening. The eldest in the group couldn’t help but be curious by the bag Felix was rummaging through.

“How many films did you buy?” Chan looked over Felix’s shoulders.

“Just the one, but you’ll never guess what else we got…” Jeongin trailed off.

Felix sneezed as he brought out the machine, and the somehow pristine encased tape of ‘Scooby Doo Mystery Incorporated: Who Ate The Luck?’.

“A tape machine? VHS?” Minho raised a brow, but couldn’t stop his curiosity.

“Isn’t it so cool?” Felix grinned widely, now kneeling in front of the TV to set everything up.

“I definitely didn’t expect this,” Changbin thought out loud.

“Neither did we, but Lixie seemed pretty excited about it,” Jisung shrugged, and Hyunjin shot him a knowing look. It was hard to say no to the sunshine boy, all of the members knew this and felt the same way.

“What are we watching?” Chan excitedly asked, rubbing his hands together giddily. He loved having these moments where although the members were separated through living situations, they would ultimately always come back together.

“Scooby Doo!” Felix brandished the tape and held it in the air proudly, like it was a prized possession. It certainly was… something.

“Wait… they have Scooby Doo in Korea?!” Chan gasped in shock. Even though he had been living in South Korea from the age of 13, he had no idea.

“Yeah, I loved that show!” Changbin nodded along, now thrilled at the idea of watching a childhood classic, rather than a horror movie.

“This really wasn’t what I was expecting,” Minho chuckled fondly, a part of him finding it cute and endearing that his younger members had returned with this as the pick of the evening.

“I wasn’t either but the lady at the shop said it’s the only copy of this version,” Seungmin commented, sneakily picking at the popcorn on the table.

“Wahhh! It must be special then,” Hyunjin snuggled into his blanket on the sofa, watching as the machine started whirring, a small glow around it after Felix pressed play.

“Sit here, Lixie,” Jeongin patted the spot on the floor next to him, holding a cushion to give to the other boy.

The tape started to load onto the screen, the Warner Brothers’ logo eerily emerging into view, a swirling spiral behind the text. The boys didn’t even realise the trance they were falling into, the feeling of being utterly relaxed and enraptured at the same time was something that they would have explained as their enthusiasm to the evening. Each and every set of eyes in the room had their pupils dilating, the black and white swirls from the screen imprinted on them. It was weird. There were no verbal instructions given to make them feel so hypnotised, yet with the disappearance of the production’s logo fading away and the increasing vividness of the spirals snaking around the screen, it took one click before the screen went black, and the lounge was empty. The VHS player continued to glow, whirring away, and all the snacks were abandoned, no one to enjoy them. The decorations - no one to enjoy them. Just like that, each and every member of Stray Kids had disappeared, only to be trapped in a world they had no idea how to navigate.

Five teenagers found themselves stuck in a police cell, in the local station of Coolsville, a district in the city of Miroh. They all shared looks, having the same feeling of disorientation. Why were they here?

Fred Jones didn’t know that he was once Bang Chan. He felt the same as normal in that sense. He had a light blue denim jacket, white t-shirt underneath and a cheap, orangey gold chain visible underneath the collar. Fluffy blonde hair sat atop his head, shifting ever so slightly each time he looked over the gang, trying to figure out a way to escape.

Daphne Blake didn’t know that she was once Yang Jeongin. She felt the same as normal in that sense. She paced back and forth in her tall, violet heels, albeit she was stumbling occasionally, which ultimately led her to resting against the wall, arms folded. She had to tug down her dress, and found herself fussing at her own hair, adjusting the lime green necktie to rest more comfortably.

Velma Dinkley didn’t know that she was once Seo Changbin. She felt the same as normal in that sense. Oddly, she was pushing up her thick black glasses more often than she would normally like to, and pulling at the sleeves of her orange turtleneck to accommodate for her toned arms. She stood firmly looking through the bars of the cell, a book clutched in her arms.

Norville Rogers, better known as Shaggy, didn’t know that he was once Hwang Hyunjin. However, he was none the wiser most of the time, and simply found comfort in clutching onto the arm of his dog hybrid friend Scooby Doo. He didn’t know that he was once Kim Seungmin. Here he was, wearing a matching pair of a brown jumper and slacks, that Shaggy’s dad had leant him after taking in the poor boy to the Rogers’ home. Shaggy also had hand-me-downs from his father, choosing to go for a pair of maroon trousers and a fitted bright green top that he stole from the top shelf of his mother’s wardrobe.

It wasn’t their identities they were worried about, it was more so the fact that they had been arrested when all they were trying to do was seek out the villains causing havoc in their district.

“Are you finished with the celebrations now?” the sheriff finally made his appearance, coming right up to them and making his appearance known.

“Oh come on, sheriff! You gotta let us out,” Fred huffed.

“Let me just stop you there. You see this badge?” the sheriff proudly tipped up the shiny star pinned to his white shirt, PJY engraved onto it, “you know why it’s here?”

“It came with the shirt,” Velma pointed out boredly, completely done with any interaction they’d have with the man.

“If there’s a crime, then I’m the one to solve it, not some teenagers who should be paying attention in school,” he was quick to inform them, “and, oh, by the way, I’ve told all your parents you’re here. Got them on speed dial. I’m sure they’ll be pleased.” With that he turned around, his black hair styled with a middle parting from the 90s flapping about as he smugly left the room. His see through plastic trousers crinkled audibly with each step, mixing in with the sounds of disgust from Daphne.

“How is he our sheriff wearing that?” she turned up her nose in disgust.

“Like, I don’t know ‘bout you, but I think we got other things to worry about,” Shaggy shuddered in fear, tousling his dark blonde hair back.

“Mom and Dad are gonna be so mad,” Scooby looked around worriedly. Shaggy patted the head of his friend, closer to being his brother, in comfort.

“We need to find a way out. I’m not too good with these things though… I much prefer trapping than escaping,” Fred sheepishly admitted.

“I can do this,” Velma stepped up, about to unclip one of her red bobby pins before another voice interrupted them.

“I’m not trusting another thing you’re doing! We’re gonna do this Scrappy style!” a shorter dog hybrid, who had been previously crouched down in the corner of the cell, stood up. He didn’t know that he was once Han Jisung but that didn’t matter as much as bothering Scooby, who he insisted was his cousin. The Rogers family weren’t so sure on that one. Scrappy… he was a bit more of a wildcard. The gang knew this well. Half the time they’d never see him, the other, he was tagging along with them in aid to solve mysteries.

“Haven’t you done enough, Scrappy?” Daphne looked down at the boy, scanning the letterman jacket he paired with some brown jeans.

“It’s not my fault we’re in this mess! If it wasn’t for Shaggy dragging my cousin and you all into this, then we wouldn’t be here!” Scrappy frowned, stomping his foot indignantly.

“I don’t think I’m your cousin, Scrappy,” Scooby looked at the fellow hybrid. There were an amalgamation of different species in Coolsville, most commonly humans, yet you did find that there were a lot of different mixed hybrids around too.

“Guys, come on, let’s not lose focus of our task at hand,” Fred had to remind them all, “we’re gonna get out of this, Scrappy too.”

“Great,” Daphne sighed.

In a dark, dusty room, a large screen was displaying what nobody else in the world knew was a brand new recording. An old lady sat down with a cup of tea, blissfully enjoying the events unfolding right in front of her, after pressing the ‘record’ button on her machine. She had done it again, fooled a sweet, trusting soul into playing into her deceiving schemes. There were still two of them yet to find their feet in their new roles, but she’d certainly have fun watching it all play out before her very eyes.

tagged: @night-storm7 @maisyyyyyy @imfoive @qwonyoung23 @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse

[polysprachig]

Hello friend! I just came across your post about filling in old spaces in your polyglot journal via the bullet journal tag… could you say more about how you use your polyglot journal in general and what its intended purpose(s) is/are?

Thank you for the question, @northfaceho! ***(Read orange text for a short summarised version)

The purpose of my polyglot journal is to capture my process of learning languages, both for myself and to share with other people. It was prompted by a secret learning project I did in 2019 to make my other native language skills go from passive to active (and the subsequent desire to subtly strengthen my skills across my main 5 languages). This happened to coincide with my dissatisfaction with the general ‘Polyglot learns X# of Languages - Here’s How + Tips and Tricks’ kind of content you could—and can—find online. And the rich stock at the base of all my griping generally boiled down to one thing:

Fucking notecards.

No shade to anyone in specific—it was more a general trend I felt I noticed at the time—but the idea that someone who has acquired or is learning a football club worth of languages and who, moreover, is able to demonstrate their use of said languages across the 4 skills to various degrees of range and accuracy at their current stage of learning does so by *secret tip: using notecards* struck me as extremely… imprecise and decidedly non-tip-worthy. It’s not that I think these people were lying about using notecards to learn—not at all! The description was just focused on what I learn with not how I learn imho, and it begged the question: Well, what do you do with the notecards?

Because at the time, I only really used notecards in Old English, but not as flashcards for memorisation or playing vocabulary matching games, which I assume was used as shorthand in the content I kept seeing. No, once a year, I would take out some fresh notecards and write Beowulf verbatim from memory for the section I have memorised, then compare it to the orthography in the Howell D. Chickering dual-language translation. (I do something similar with Chaucer, but notecards are too small so I use a yellow legal pad instead. Still, the concept is the same.) And later, when I started learning Italian, I would prepare a notecard to keep on my desk during lessons which listed out the most common errors I knew I was going to make in that day’s class, based on my teacher’s recent feedback (usually incorrect pronunciation/word stress, Greek or French influence which isn’t correct, accidental uses of Latin, etc.).

And so I repurposed what I had hoped would be a travel journal into a polyglot journal and kicked it off with this statement of my intentions forgive the register:

This year, 2024, one of my main goals was to read the rest through, comment on my methods, mistakes, mindset, etc. etc., and fill in the gaps with scraps of loose studies and feedback from my teachers. Oh yeah, and start typing it all up to save my future self some time.

I’ll be posting a lot more from my polyglot journal in 2025, now that I’ve figured out how much time I can commit to it based on my schedule and the writing routine I’ve been testing out these last months. I want to make sharing it an adventure reflective of its many side quests and the actual time and input required to learn.

In essence, the journal reflects the planning, check-ins, learning notes, and process of my quarantine levelling up project and literary/poetic translation portfolio part 1, which are free to read here if anyone is interested:

The Merlin Project (Irish-English)—running with the question all my students asked in the pandemic, i.e. Can I learn a language from just watching TV? by writing borderline Merlin fanfiction

The tragic portion of my translation portfolio (English-German-French-Italian)—literary translations into English from Poliziano, Goethe, Voltaire and Kaiserin Elisabeth (Sisi); translations into German of Lord Byron, Mary Shelley and Percy Bysshe Shelley

The journal is not without silly and serious one-off language escapades as well, which I occasionally ventured out into when taking a break from the more major projects.

Thanks for reading if you’ve made it to the end!

[therottingstar]

Looking for JJK rp buddies!!

celestialgrotesque on discord! friend away!

Helloooo!! im celestialGrotesque and i am here to ask if anyone would like to be rp partners (also 18 n up) :3 Im 18, have little to no limits (except weird shit) and yeah Here are my mains - Megumi, Geto, Nobara, Choso my secondaryes - Yuji, Sukuna, Uraume, Mahito and mine "I love them, I can write them, but not that confident" - Gojo, Toji , mimiko and nanako (together, cant play them separately) ,Any other character really, just need to do research on them, kenjaku Ill tag the ships I like,,, so uh if this is in A SHIPP TAG,,,,,,,, AND YOU WANNA RP,,,,,,, big ol eyes QUALITY OVER QUANTITY RP!!

rp example belloww

Megumi hands felt as the warm water of the sink ran through them, carefully brushing the green side of the sponge against the small bowl he uttilized for dinner. As he washed the reminders of dirt away, he couldnt help but.... ponder. There was an emptiness weighing in the back of his neck, as he finished the dishes carefully placing them on the drying rack. He took off the small filter of the sink, trowing the disgusting wet pieces of food in the trash before finally putting it back in its place. Megumi washed his hands again, drying them in the nearby towel before running them through his hair. He took deep breaths, attempting to stabilize himself. But his thoughts grew erratic, his mind raced circles upon circles. It hurt. "hff.....huff..." He breathed, 'just like in therapy' he thought, sitting down back against the small cupboard under the sink. He covered his eyes with his hands, breathing as deeply as he managed. 'I must be the worst', he thinks. Today had been a particularly rough day for Megumi, he had a small disagreement with Nobara and Yuji, something considerably small for the two of them had ticked Megumi off, causing him to blow up on his friends. Why was Megumi like that? If he was to really think about it he was not worthy of his friends, Nobara and Yuji were sweet and strong people, people that didnt need him. And god how dare he shout at them like that. Hurt them like that. "Deep....breaths...." He felt iregular, out of control. His head was spinning and he felt like too much. The lights felt too bright and the world felt woozy. Weakly, he brings his hands together summoning the devine dogs, who carefully began comforting him. They put their weights on Fushiguro, carefully pushing down on him to assist on his regulation. It felt like days for Megumi, the breathlessness and spinning world stopping slowly but eventually, he felt ok enough to go to his bed. The two wolf-dogs hop on the bed aswell, snouts pressing against Megumi as he held his pillow, small tears forming in his eyes. He hated being weak like this. But- he would be ok. Thats something he knows. Thats something he was promised. He is going to be ok. THE FORMATTING IS FUCKED,,, BUT YOU GET THE JIST!!

[veronicaphoenix]

IKIGAI (or A REASON FOR BEING) — CHAPTER TWELVE

“Did you get a new tattoo?” She asked. Noah, with a playful grin, stopped to show her. Lia leaned over the kitchen island with her elbows set on the counter, narrowing her eyes at the ink under one of the green leaves on his neck. After a moment, she managed to read what the black ink said, and her eyes went wide open. “No way.”

Chapter tags: best friends living together, fluff/comfort, platonic love?, sexual innuendos, early bad omens. | Word count: 1.738 | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

CHAPTER 12

Lia is 19. Noah is 20.

The late morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over Lia's makeshift art studio in the living room. On the carpeted floor, surrounded by sketches, paint palettes, and fabric swatches, Lia was deep into her creative zone and lost in her imaginary. The boys' band was gearing up to launch some merchandise, and Lia had been working day and night to get some designs worthy of being printed on t-shirts and hoodies.

As she chew on the cap of a black pen and zoomed out with two fingers in one of the drawings that she had transferred to her iPad, the main door of the house opened, and Noah burst through carrying a few grocery bags in his long arms.

The sight of him instantly lifted Lia's spirits, and she returned his smile from her seated position on the floor.

Noah set the bags down on the kitchen isle, and the first thing out of his mouth was a complaint about the rising cost of Lia's favorite Thai noodles. However, he quickly redeemed himself by announcing that he had bought a bunch of instant noodles for her. Lia's eyes lit up with delight, and she abandoned her artistic endeavors to help him sort out the groceries in the kitchen.

In her socks and black leggings, Lia sported one of the early printed Bad Omens t-shirts featuring her own artwork; it was white and a bit oversized, the colors of the art still not holding the tone desired, it was a work-in-progress, really, but it was comfy enough for her to wear around the house.

As soon as she reached the isle, she stood on her tiptoes and eagerly peeked into the bags, searching for any guilty pleasures. Her eyes widened with glee when she discovered a box of frosted cookies and cream pop-tarts. She muttered a triumphant “yes!” and unable to resist, she opened the box, took one out of its wrapping and settled on one of the stools to indulge in it while Noah unloaded the bags.

As she savored the sweet treat, Lia's eyes wandered, and she caught a glimpse of a reddish mark on Noah's neckthat hadn’t been there in the morning, when he had come down from his bedroom into the kitchen, putting a t-shirt over his bare chest, eyes still sleepy. It piqued her curiosity, and she couldn't quite make out what it was from her vantage pointas he kept on moving and turning.

“Did you get a new tattoo?” She asked.

Noah, with a playful grin, stopped to show her. Lia leaned over the kitchen island with her elbows set on the counter, narrowing her eyes at the ink under one of the green leaves on his neck. After a moment, she managed to read what the black ink said, and her eyes went wide open.

“No way.” Looking at Noah for confirmation, she found it in the proud glint in his eyes.

He had tattooed her name on his neck. It was a small tattoo, barely visible, but it was there. Forever.

“You didn’t,” she muttered.

Noah, unfazed, replied, "Yeah, I did."

Lia, torn between amusement and concern, shook her head and took another bite of the Pop Tart.

"You're never gonna get a girlfriend like this."

“What do you mean?” He asked, keeping his gaze on her as he opened one of the higher cupboards to keep new tea boxes next to the coffee.

"How do you think they will feel when they see another woman’s name tattooed on your body?"

He moved his shoulders up and down.

“They’ll have to deal with it. This is my best friend and the most important person in my life,” Noah retorted.

“That will change when you fall in love,” she told him, but she couldn’t hide her smile and the slight blush that tinted her cheeks.

“We’ll see about that,” Noah replied, determined to defend his position. He pretended to be uninterested as he continued emptying the grocery bags and putting each thing on its right place.

They didn’t have a scheduled shopping routine. Whenever someone went out to get something, if anything was missing in the house, they would take the list that hung in the fridge door and get it.

“Well, this might sound selfish,” Lia continued with her mouth full. She licked her lips. “But I hope nobody falls in love with you, that way I can keep my best friend forever.”

He circled the kitchen island with a few things gathered in his hands, and in response to her comment, Noah leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, playfully taking a bite from her pop tart as he moved away to place a jar of pickles and canned corn in the low cupboard behind her.

“You can keep me anyway.”

He finished setting the groceries, engaging in a quick work with Lia that consisted on her emptying the bags from the remaining items inside and handing them to him as he moved from left to right in the space in the kitchen. It wasn’t long before he noticed Lia’s raised cheeks and the cheeky glint in her eyes and smile. He frowned as he finished folding the carboard bags and kept them in one of the drawers underneath the space where they had the microwave. He could sense she was holding something.

He quirked an eyebrow and set his elbows on the counter as he fixed his eyes on her.

"Okay, I know that look. What have you done?"

Lia hesitated for a moment, biting her lip before finally confessing.

"I got my left nipple pierced.”

Noah froze.

"You what?" The surprise in his voice was evident as his eyes widened.

Lia nonchalantly tugged at her t-shirt, flattening the thin white fabric against her chest, revealing the subtle glint of the tiny beads at each end of the metal bar of the piercing. The fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra was not a shocking reveal to Noah. Despite living in a house full of boys, Lia felt entirely at ease shedding the confines of that conventional piece of underwear when there were no outing plans for the day, and the domesticity and normalcy of it was something that they were all accustomed too. She was also used to finding Jolly or Mike walking around the house in just a towel wrapped around their hips and droplets of water falling from their hair. Nobody paid attention to each other’s skin. At least not when it came to showcasing or hinting at those areas of skin. However, Noah felt a lump in his throat as his eyes fixated not solely on the small but noticeable accessory, but on the little bud that held the piercing and the mount that was Lia’s left breast.

"When?" he managed to ask, the words almost automatic.

"A couple of days ago. It still pains," Lia admitted, releasing her shirt and breaking Noah's trance. “But I love it.”

"Who did it?"

Lia furrowed her brows, catching onto the unspoken question in his eyes.

"Are you gonna ask me if it was a guy who did it?"

"No, I just..." Noah began, struggling to articulate his thoughts.

Yes, he wanted to know.

"Amanda did it. From the tattoo shop downtown, next to the Vietnamese restaurant where we celebrated Bryan’s birthday last year,” she told him with a smirk.

Noah let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, the tension releasing from his shoulders. Lia, chin raised, stood up and walked past him, and he couldn't help but watch her with a striking adoration.

"It's a shame you're not gonna be able to see it," she remarked with a sly grin.

"Very funny," Noah replied, trying to regain his composure while secretly grateful for the distraction. “Anyway, want some coffee? Tea?”

“Green tea, please.”

Five minutes later and with two cups in hand, he placed hers on the coffee table in front of the tv, where Lia had her iPad, her MacBook, and a handful of white papers with unfinished drawings on them. She was back on the floor, seated with her legs crossed, and Noah took a seat behind her, on the couch. His eyes scanned the myriad of sketches spread before them.

“How’s that going?”

Lia leaned back so that her head touched the side of Noah’s right knee, and perched on it comfortably as she lifted her iPad to show him her new ideas.

“I’m pretty happy with this one. What do you think?”

Noah took the iPad from her hands.

Soon enough, they found themselves deeply engaged in one of the so often discussions related to their art, exchanging ideas and tweaking designs. Noah’s suggestions always found a way to complement Lia’s artistic visions, and together they managed to craft concepts that felt uniquely representative of the band. As they solidified their choices for the upcoming drop, Lia’s fingers danced across her iPad while Noah’s danced on her hair, straightening the long strands, soft as silk and vanilla scented.

Five minutes turned into an hour, and come afternoon, the house was filled with the sounds coming from different voices, tuned instruments, and mixed sounds coming from the speakers in the room that the boys had neatly turned into the closest it could be to a real studio.

On days like this, the house transformed into a temple of art. The walls reverberated with melodies coming from the strumming of guitars, the beat of drums, and Noah’s melodic voice.

That space was the place where dreams were shared, and the tangible magic that enveloped the house was exactly what Lia had dreamed as a child, when she could only hear her mother’s screams and the rough voice of random men coming from the main bedroom in the house at late hours of the night.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Noah went to bed with Lia’s silent and ever-lasting appreciation in his skin. She had touched his cheek before disappearing into her bedroom, reminding him with that soft, gentle, and nearly ethereal touch that she never forgot  hat he took her out of the shadows and gave her a place where she could explore herself and her abilities and skills as an artist. He had given her a chance to make magic, and for that, she would forever be grateful.

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 28/6

It's in the recs list! I'm very much looking forward to this one.

I've certainly enjoyed what I've read so far - it's been nice to get back to the story's original protagonists.

The main mood of Act 5.2 is one of anticipation. We've been getting glimpses of the kids' Grand Plan ever since the Act began, and it very much feels like it's all building up to something. If Homestuck sticks the landing, and the Act 5 finale lives up to all this hype, then this might end up my favorite part of the story so far.

Yeah it's a session tag - although a 'reading session' is a little ambiguously defined, especially when I stop posting for a few hours and return later in the day. How long a gap does it need to be before it qualifies as a new reading session?

I've just been tagging every post made in the same day as the same session. It's not a perfect solution, but it'll do.

Wow, it started in 2010? I could conceivably have been reading Paranatural in school - although I'm glad I came to it a little later, so I wasn't constantly waiting for updates.

Big red peepers. I'll admit I didn't really think of this as a reveal, but I suppose it is our first true peek behind Dave's shades.

Based on this, it's it's probably safe to assume that all the kids have eyes matching their text colors. Has Rose been blessed with the legendary mutation, Alexandria's Genesis?

A few people mentioned this Squiddles meme. I like it, it's very Trunk & The Grunks.

I've really gotta catch up on those albums at some point...

I did wonder if Bro's sword shenanigans were something to do with Dave's Quest - like, maybe he was bequeathing his anime sword to his brother, to accomplish some objective. Now that Dave has his own Quest sword, I think that interpretation is less likely.

Symbolically though, I do think it's notable that Bro's sword is intact, and Dave's is broken. It ties into how Dave sees himself as a worse version of Bro, on some level.

As far as Jack is concerned, I doubt the game intends for him to have anything to do with Dave's journey. The whole point is that he's ignoring the game's rules - so if anything, his antics might start to break the Quests.

It sounds like the style was supposed to take readers aback - although I didn't find it particularly jarring myself!

Homestuck's art style is constantly changing, with this, the Earthbound sprites, and Hero Mode, among other things. Honestly, I had just assumed that the comic's art just fluctuated depending on Hussie's mood.

I quite like the HussNasty panels, and I hope Hussie keeps experimenting with the comic's art. It sounds like this is the beginning of a more general trend, so I'm hopeful that it will continue.

Oh, so it just straight up is Excalibur.

New theory about his Quest, then. It's about worthiness, and Dave is being tasked to 'prove himself' as a hero, despite his insecurities. This ties neatly into the next set of asks below:

Anonymous asked: my headcanon (partially supported by the text, as you've seen from rose's conversation with jaspers) is that each quest is designed to help you self-improve, so that you can responsibly preside over an entire universe. whether you agree with the game about the ways you need to improve is another story.

I've speculated that the Quests are teaching the Players how to sculpt their universe. Building on from this idea, then, these asks speculate that Quests are also trying to improve the Players as people, so that the nascent universe will flourish under their care.

It's an interesting idea - although it does beg the question of why Sburb is creating such flawed Players in the first place. If it's looking for self-actualized custodians for its universe, why did it create Players like the trolls, who wanted to rule over their universe like tyrants?

I guess it's possible that a flawed Player who self-improves is actually more resilient than a flawless Player who never needed to change. The former would potentially be more resilient, capable of adapting to the changing circumstances of their universe as it grows and evolves.

I wish! That's more of an aspirational schedule, really. I should probably delink it, if it's causing confusion.

I'm not sure whether this is Karkat's canonical birthday - but if it is, I like the irony inherent in the fact that he's not even a Cancer.

Yes - although I don't blame you for forgetting, since I don't think I've referenced it since the literal first post of the liveblog!

Oh, god, messages from 2024? Is Tumblr using Trollian as a backend?

Bizarre. I assume, then, that the trickster code was cut as well. :(

If we assume that Sburb did evolve, then it makes sense that it works this way. However, if it was created by some intelligent being, then holding the Players hostage like this seems pretty malicious.

I mean, there are ways to ensure participation in the game that don't involve destroying an entire planet. No matter how clear you were about the risks, if you asked the population of Earth for volunteers, you'd be guaranteed millions of responses.

All that said, if Sburb worked this way, we'd have a very different story. I understand why Sburb works the way it does, in the context of Homestuck's themes.

Speaking of Kingdom Hearts, I'd kind of love for Sora to visit a Homestuck world. His Keyblade upgrade could be the Wrinklefucker - and he'd have to unlock Vriska as a summon, right?

Do it. I've been rereading GtN this week, and as far as I'm concerned, Alecto can't come fast enough.

It is she. The million dollar question, of course, is whether Taylor is ultimately more of a constructive or destructive character.

I mean, I have an opinion, but resurrecting The Great Taylor Hebert Debate on this blog would be an exercise in hubris.

@wickedsick asked: The typically accepted name for Girl Egbert is June, after that one time Vriska spelt John with 64 O's and Egbert said they read it as a really long "June". [...]

Oh man, imagine being trolled by Vriska was your trans awakening. How would you ever recover?

Jokes aside, I like June, It's cute. I feel like if John transitioned she'd choose another 4 letter J-name like that, or a name from one of her movies, like Dana or Janine.

Come on - I'd be shocked if Homestuck didn't end with the straight characters getting outnumbered at least twenty-to-one.

Looks fine to me, I think. I assume the website just hiccupped - wouldn't be the first time!

It blows my mind every time I remember that Undertale came out in 2015. The beginning of the Undertale Era feels like it started simultaneously six months ago, and twenty years ago.

You open the TYPHEUS web browser and direct it to what is indisputably the most amazing website ever created.

Au contraire, my friend - Typheus showed up way back in Act 1!

[ I can't send them yet because they'd tell you a lot about the aspects, but someone sent classpect headcanons for discworld characters and they're SO GOOD - C ]

Damn it, I can't wait. Just based on what I've recently learned, I am convinced Rincewind would be the Something of Light.

[greynatomy]

haven’t posted in a while. lost some motivation on the other but will get back to it!

there’s is nothing sexual in this post so if you see the mature themes thing, ignore it cause it’s all fluff

this is a lisa manoban x male!reader instagram fix with shawn mendes as basically the face claim. lisa is from blackpink and i’ve become a fan after watching their coachella performances online. songs are a bop and are on repeat

let me know what you think of this one! send in some requests for things you want to see more as long as i have it open

-grey

———

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2 and 6,384 others

ynupdates yn is said to replace frank ocean at coachella weekend 2

view all comments

ynfan3 HOLY SHIT NO WAY

ynfan4 IM GONNA BE THERE

ynfan5 don’t disappoint us yn!!

↳ ynhater1 he’s not main stage worthy

↳ ynfan6 don’t hate before he even performs

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2 and 8,748 others

ynupdates yn arriving for coachella week 2

view all comments

ynfan3 HE SO FIIINNUHH??

ynfan4 He looks daddy

↳ ynfan5 he can be my sugar daddy

liked by ynfan1, bpfan1 and 10,847 others

ynupdates yn posted this video of lisa from blackpink on his story. ONLY LISA, not any of the other members!!

view all comments

bpfan2 OHMYGOD I AHHHH

ynfan2 any fan of yn’s know that he’s a big fan of bp… esp lisa

↳ bpfan3 wait really?!

↳ ynfan3 yeah! they met when blackpink first performed at coachella and been a fan ever since

↳bpfan4 that’s sick!!

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2, and 12,384 others

celebnews people had great things to say about yn yln's act at coachella. many said that it made up for frank ocean's disappointing performance, or lack thereof. he also performed a new, unreleased song called 'daydreams' and people are swooning.

view all comments

ynfan3 OUR BOY DOES NOT DISAPPOINT

ynfan4 all ya'll haters just hating

bpfan1 watched his act cause i heard he was a bp fan and i'm staying cause he is a vibe

↳ ynfan5 welcome new friend!!

liked by jennierubyjane, yourinstagram and 10,500,320 others

lalalalisa_m fun in the desert 🌵

view all comments

bpfan1 she posted yn and yn only!!

ynfan1 OMGGG I SHIP SO BAAADDD 🚢 🛳️

↳ bpfan1 i watched his act and IT WAS SO GOOD. i ship too

liked by bpfan1, ynfan1 and 15,374 others

bpupdates jennie posted the first one on her story, lisa posted the video as one of her instagram post slides and the last one was posted by a fan

view all comments

bpfan2 not lisa posting herself fangirling

ynfan2 awww they all watched the other's performance

liked by lisafan1, bpfan1 and 6,392 others

blackpinkupdates are lisa and y/n y/ln in a relationship? this tiktok has some ‘proof’

view all comments

bpfan2 lisa's post from earlier doesn't help with the rumors at all

↳ bpfan3 miss gurl just don't care

↳ bpfan4 she said fuck the management

ynfan1 he def hit that

↳ ynfan2 they could just be friends. they've known each other since 2019 and there weren't anyone saying anything then

↳ ynfan3 or they just hooking up

liked by harrystyles, lalalisa_m and 20,748,046 others

yourinstagram we actually said i do...

view all comments

ynfan1 OHMYGOD WHO IS ITTTTT

↳ ynfan2 HE DIDNT TAG ANYONEEEEE

hairstyles it was a great wedding mate. glad to have been your best man

↳ harryfan1 HARRY WAS BEST MAN

bpfan1 LISA LIKED OMGG

ynfan3 IM FREAKING OUT

liked by jennierubyjane, yourinstagram and 16,394,299 others

lalalisa_m ...about a year ago

view all comments

bpfan1 SHES MARRIED?? SHES FUCKING MARRIED??

jennierubykim AHHHHHHHH

sooyaaa_ YAAAY

roses_are_rosie WE BEEN KNEW

bpfan2 THIS IS THE BIGGEST FUCKING KEPT SECRET

↳ bpfan3 THE QUESTION IS TO WHOOOOO

ynfan1 HOLD UP HOLD UP! YN POSTED SOMETHING SIMILAR

↳ ynfan2 THEYRE MARRIED

liked by ynfan1, bpfan1 and 37,484 others

celebnews yn yln and lisa from blackpink are MARRIED. the two posted their own picture with yn's being "we actually said i do..." and lisa's being "...about a year ago" this came as a total shock to all yn and black pink fans all over as we have not seen them interact at all in the four years since they met. were you just as shocked by the news as everyone else?

view all comments

bpfan2 this was not in my list of things that would happed in the celeb world

ynfan2 they're the king and queen of secrets cause WOW

yourinstagram still can't believe she agreed to forever with me

↳ lalalisa_m @ yourinstagram how could i not?

↳ bpfan3 they're so cute ohmygod

↳ ynfan3 officially my favorite couple

bpfan4 DAYDREAMS IS ABOUT LALISAAAA

[multifandom-worlds]

An Office Redecoration

Genre: Pure fluff, baby!

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: N/A

Author's note: I almost didn't finish this in time for Victor's birthday, but I did! A little self-indulgent fic for my first muse's birthday. Happy Birthday, Victor! Tagging: @darlingdummycassandra/@darling-dummy-blogs, @otome-and-fanfiction

It takes a lot of convincing for Victor to attend a lunch meeting; it took even more to convince him to participate in a lunch meeting on his birthday, no less. Reluctantly, Victor agreed, leaving his office empty for 3 hours—just enough time for Nicole to come in and redecorate for his birthday. Something she enjoyed doing every time this particular day came around. 

Before they got together, Victor rarely celebrated his birthday - it was just another day to him, nothing special about getting older. Now, she makes it a point to make a big deal about it, to celebrate him and show him that he is worthy of celebrating the day. Today, she planned to decorate his office when he returns, complete with a red velvet cake she baked herself and presents - some homemade, most bought. 

She was on her way to his office when she saw him coming out of the elevator. “Hey you, where are you off to?” 

Victor faintly smiles, quite happy to see her, before walking over to her and kissing her gently. “I have a meeting I need to attend, which unfortunately means we’re going to have to reschedule our lunch, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” 

Nicole frowns, pretending as if she didn’t already know. “Oh no, that’s okay, my love. We can just have a dinner date when you've finished work. You should get going, can’t have Mr. Punctual running late.” 

Victor lets out a chuckle before he gives her one last peck on the cheek before he heads out the main doors, leaving her alone. She texts her friends Violet and Cassie that the coast is clear and to come on in with the rest of the belongings. Nicole hops into the elevator, intending to meet her friends in his office. Also, because she has a key, she can unlock it.

Cassie and Violet get up to his office after 5 minutes, decorations and presents in hand, ready to transform his borning, minimalist office into a colourscape of decorations. Placing everything in a giant pile on his desk, the three girls set to work, Nicole decorating his desk, Violet standing on the couch to hang streamers from the ceiling, and Cassie ensuring the table was set up and organized with the gifts and cake. They talked, laughed, and often wasted time, making a task that should have only taken them 2 hours at most take them over 3 hours. 

The sound of Victor clearing his throat caused the girls to jump. The 3 of them turn and look at him sheepishly, waiting for the verbal whipping they are about to receive. “And what do you 3 think you are doing?”

“It was Nik’s idea! I swear!” Cassie says, quickly hiding behind Nicole while Violet tries to sneak out behind Victor while he is distracted. “She wanted to do something special! She paid me to do it!” 

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, woman!” Nicole chuckles, walking over to her husband and placing a hand on his chest. “I wanted to do something special for your birthday; Vi and Cassie were more than willing to lend a hand and help me celebrate you. They even got you a few things. Let them all easy; it was my idea.” 

“Yeah! Listen to your wife! Let us off easy, or I’m taking my gift back!” Violet says from the door. Victor turns to her, levelling her with his gaze. She squeaks before dashing out of the room, Cassie hot on her heels. “Love you, Nikki! If you’re still alive, text me later!” Violet calls from down the hall.

Nicole rolls her eyes before looking back at Victor, getting a read of him. “They really are innocent; this whole thing was my idea, love. Including the lunch meeting, I’m sorry, I just wanted to surprise you.”

Victor scans the room, looking at the carefully made decorations, the photos of them together lining his desk, and the 35 gifts all placed on the table and floor in the corner. “You didn’t have to do this for me, darling.” He says, regarding her again with a soft look in his eyes. She always found a way to make him feel loved. 

“Both Cassie and Violet got you a couple of things, too, as a thank you for everything you’ve done for them. Although they never asked me, so lord only knows what they gave you.” Nicole laughs before walking over to the table and pouring Victor a drink. “As annoying as they can be, they both love you.”

Victor follows her, taking the drink from her hand and looking at the wide assortment of gifts before him before picking up a small, unassuming bag. “Text them to come back; they helped you; they should be here to celebrate, too. Plus, I’m going to need someone to clean up with. I’m dealing with your ass.” He chuckles, taking a sip. 

It didn’t take long before Violet and Cassie were back in his office, drinks in their hand, sitting on the couch as Victor began opening his gifts, grabbing the same unassuming bag from before. “That looks like Violet’s handwriting.” he chuckles before opening it, seeing a lump of black fabric at the bottom. Further inspection reveals it's an apron that reads Mr. Good Looking is Cooking.

Victor looks at her as she fights the urge to contain her laughter. “You need to wear that the next time we are over for dinner! It’ll be so good!” 

Victor rolls his eyes before reaching for another gift, a small package with Cassie’s name on it. He opens it to see several regular, sophisticated-looking ties until he reaches the last one. Pulling it out, he holds up a tie adorned with several different cat faces. Cassie points to one particularly grumpy-looking cat, “Look! It’s Victor!” Cassie laughs before pointing out the other cats. “The cute fluffy little kitten is me; Violet is the orange cat, and Nikki is the sophisticated-looking cat!’ 

Victor glares at her while she smiles innocently. “This is why you’re the grumpy cat, Victor!” She whines, hiding behind Nicole. 

“You two are menaces, you know that?” Victor groans before letting out a small chuckle. They may be menaces, but he really did appreciate their gifts. He opens one of Nicole’s gifts next, hoping it isn’t something ridiculous but not putting it past her. “Tie clips and cuff links, thank you, my love.” Victor smiles, placing them down beside him. 

***

Hours pass, the cake devoured and all the gifts are unwrapped, save for 2 - a bottle of whisky from Cassie, more ties from Violet, as well as some Shiba Inu plushies from her as well. All 3 of them got him cooking-related items or something food-related. His wife gave him a subscription to a whisky club plus new whisky glasses to go with it, a new leather wallet, and a few more odds and ends. 

The two remaining gifts wait on the table as Victor and Nicole say goodbye to Violet and Cassie, shutting the door after they leave.  “Why did you want me to save those two for after they’re gone, darling?” Victor asks, walking her back to the couch and taking the two gifts off the table as he goes by. 

“Those two are quite special; I wanted to get your genuine reaction, not your measured ones with the others here.” She smiles, watching as he tears open the smaller of the two, revealing a silver and black Rolex Sky-Dweller watch. 

“Baby…this is beautiful. I love it so much. Thank you.” He says, pulling her in for a kiss. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. “You’ve been so good to me this year, my love. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

“There’s still one more, darling. This is my favourite gift, actually.” She hands him the last gift, her hands trembling slightly with nervous anticipation. Victor carefully opens it, revealing a black leather-bound book. Opening the front cover, he’s greeted with the photo they took on their first date. Flipping through the pages, pictures of them together at events, photos from dates, and even a few of their wedding photos line the pages. 

Victor’s eyes well with tears, looking at the memories and sweet little notes and drawings she added. “I…don’t know what to say, my love. I think this is the best gift I have ever received. I love you so much it hurts. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a perfect wife, but you made my birthday so special. I am never going to forget this day. Thank you.”

[jokertrap-ran]

[スタオケ] La Corda d'Oro Starlight Orchestra Main Story Chapter 2-1 Translation

*Starlight Orchestra Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Main story tag will be #Main Starlight

2 Years Ago, Mito.

???: Real lame, don’cha think?

???: He’s pathetic as a delinquent.

???: And equally pathetic when trying to play at being part of the Student Council.

???: …HAH?

???: We can’t seriously be tolerating this.

???: Probably.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Sakuya: What, no one’s here again?

Sakuya: We’ve successfully held our concert, and we’ve even pasted our posters up at the Music Education department, yet we don’t seem to be getting any new members.

Hayate: The people in music ed aren’t like those in general ed. We don’t exactly have the time to go parading around with such a suspiciously shady Orchestra.

Sakuya: If so… then what does that make you, exactly…?

Tomoharu: Hahaha. He does have a point.

⊳ Choice: It’s not anything to be joking about

Tomoharu: Pfft- Sorry. I do suppose it’s bad to joke about this, considering our situation.

⊳ Choice: You’re completely open to jibes

Hayate: Wha- Is that how you treat someone who lends you a helping hand!?

Tomoharu: Hmm… But if that’s how it is, then I don’t think we’ll have much luck recruiting members in Seiso Academy.

Sakuya: Yeah. Maybe we should try appealing in a different place—

Ginga: Oh, you’re all gathered?

Ginga: Ready to head out? Plum, natto and history-rich streets await us all!

Kazuma: Do you remember Hashizumi-sensei, from the Mito Symphony Orchestra, who was in attendance for our concert?

Kazuma: He has graciously offered to introduce us to a place where we can hold our future concerts if any.

Tomoharu: Eh? We’re going to hold our next concert in Mito?

Sakuya: Isn’t that kinda far?

Ginga: Cease your chatter! Yeesh, you lot. For people who are aiming to go global, your worldview really is tiny!

Ginga: Isn’t Ibaraki just a moment away if you go by the Joban Expressway?

Hayate: Mito, huh? It would be great if we could get Osakabe-san to join us…

Hayate: He was the Trumpets’ leader from last year’s Starlight Orchestra.

Hayate: He won 4th place in the Brass Section of the Jr. Classical Music Concours just as he’d entered his first year in high school.

Hayate: We were in different sections, so I didn’t really get to interact much with him. But, he’s reliable and someone worthy of respect.

Ginga: Heh? He sounds like an amazing person. Alrighty then, let’s try our damndest to induct him into our ranks.

Hayate: If he’s willing to join the Starlight Orchestra again, then…

Hayate: Maybe there’s some helping this misfit of a Starlight Orchestra, as well as how messy this room is.

Ginga: Huh?

Hayate: I’m talking about this sloppy mess in here— Empty cup noodle cups, pet bottles, and that barely standing mountain of papers just piled together in a heap.

Hayate: He’s also the Student Council President of his school, and very neat about things. I’m sure he’ll put the right to things here.

Hayate: I’m seeing a glimmer of hope here, (L/n).

Ginga: I, on the other hand, am absolutely horrified…

Sakuya: Well, it works out for you too, doesn’t it?

Tomoharu: If we have brass instrument players joining us, that’ll also mean that we’ll be able to play a wider variety of songs.

⊳ Choice: Let’s head out to Mito then! 

Tomoharu: Yes! It’s going to be fun, don’t you think, senpai?

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Nono: You’re going to Mito? That’s brilliant~!

Nono: That place is a noted place of connection of a really amazing Orchestra Conductor from Berlin ♪

Nono: I look forward to seeing the superb new members who’ll be joining us, Concertmistress!

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬Main Starlight♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-14) Next Part: (Chapter 2-2)

[janujaja]

Thai BL Favourites Tag List Game

Of COURSE @lost-my-sanity1 want me to partake in this and I am doing it for that wee little child only.

Favourite BL

I mean, it was a tight competition between THE 2 - MSP and BB. But as I have screamed out into the void before, BB just takes the cake, man. That show viscerally changed me as a person. I am a NEW BEING after BB. It's the way in which it came during the pandemic with its amazing acting and directing and music and STORY and chemistry and all that and more. MSP is a close second but my uni bois have a special place in my heart.

[p.s I love nanon and his entire face in this scene so much I cannot even descRIBE]

Favourite Pairing

The pretentious me hates how I am following the mainstream and not thinking of some obscure pairings but yeah TinnGun genuinely deserve it. I am sorry but I still get butterflies whenever I watch the last scene of ep 4. That kind of chemistry is super hard to come by and GemFourth did such a good job, I love them. 🥺 I wanna forget ever having watched MSP and watch them all over again.

Some noteworthy mentions are obviously patpran, everything maxtul plays, akkayan, biblebuild, etc.

OH I do infact have a not THAT mainstream pair! It's whatever couple name mark and perth acted as in the [admittedly not a BL] show, The Stranded, on Netflix.

Favourite Character

Tinn. I relate so much to that boy, especially his awkwardness. Also he is super cute and I am super cute. He is also super simpy and I love that in a man. I truly don't know if I want him or want to be him.

[ANOTHER noteworthy mention is Pleum in Ghost Host, Ghost House cuz again, mans is a walking green flag and a simp. ALSO hella awkward. *gasps* I have a type].

Favourite side character

This position is shared by 2 of my fav comic reliefs who are also very pure hearted I love them to bits - Tiwson from MSP and Tankhun from Kinnporsche. The series truly wouldn't have been anything without them and I stand by it.

Favourite Scene

If I could say the entirety of ep 5 of BB, I would have. But if I had to choose. This.

Nothing surpasses this. Paof told them to make it award fucking worthy with the angst and they fucking did it. Ohm in this scene does so many things to me I cannot even I shall be kicked out from society if I ever open my mouth. I can't even stand seeing that gif cuz my knees will buckle down that very second. It also paved the way for the rooftop kiss TM so.

Favourite Line

I mean. I warned you about this in the previous question so. It's more to do with the way he says it but it's still my fav cuz it was done right.

Underrated Actor:

SING who plays the role of the villain in Not Me. It is time that he got some main character roles, gmm.

Most anticipated BL and why:

1. Dangerous Romance cuz I have missed seeing Perth and Chimon, another 2 actors that can ACT, in a main role.

2. Only Friends cuz

3. I feel you linger in the air cuz plot looks interesting and they r both hunks.

Healthiest relationship in a bl:

Tinngun. Aint even have to put up a fight.

Most toxic relationship in a bl:

I mean, there are lots, girlie. If you immediately thought of that one pairing after seeing this question, then yeap I am going with that pairing too wink wink.

Guilty Pleasure Series:

Tonhon Chonlatee and that too only the first few eps. I love khaotung man what do I do.

Bonus! Most underrated series:

I think khun chai is pretty underrated in the sense that it's very telenovelaesque and mayhaps not fully bl so people r put off by it but I LOVED that show to bits.

YYY was a comparatively underrated series too even though I loved the romantic moments as much as the weird and comedic ones. It truly sits in a league of its own.

OOOKIE thassit for now. I have exhausted my typing abilities and I am pretty sure I left a lot of good series and scenes off cuz my brain couldn't conjure them up while I was typing.

I welcome anyone else who wants to try this out honestly, but if @ashedddaisy and @gaylittlepieceofsh1t could contribute their think pieces, I would LOVE to read em.

[fymagnificentwomcn]

I still have plenty to say on the topic, so bear with me, the original link is here, it would be too much there I think.

Anyway thank you Sol @palaceoftears for these tags that succinctly sum up the main point of the original post, let's bring them as starting point here:

#joanna you ate this!!! missed reading you#truly love how deeply you analyzed that confronting suleyman IS confronting the system!#also the freeing aspect because like freedom doesn't have to mean happiness?#yes ofc hurrem wouldn't be happy knowing ultimately suleyman didn't love her & her children over himself#but it's still freeing to not live yout whole life brainwashed lol?#like I never get how ppl that loves her watch her going from 'i'll kill the sultan' & 'don't treat us as animals' to dependant on suleyman#and just go 'happy ending :D' about it#mahidevran sultan#hurrem sultan#sultan suleiman#magnificent century#muhtesem yuzyil

You know how much I dislike Surrem, but I absolutely get people shipping it without getting it like "happy in love" (huge kudos to my sis Tisha) since it's an extremely complicated, mutually toxic relationship, while yes they do love each other at same time. But they are both each other's heaven and hell simultaneously throughout the whole show, with Hürrem being in worse position due to power imbalance. Power imbalance that never fully goes away. He might also be dependent on her in emotional way since he himself comes to belief she is the only person who would never betray him (because she truly had least benefit in it). Don't be fooled though, if she had e.g. crowned Bayezid in S3 as Sah intended, he would have shown her no mercy. /I once mentioned a bit about them, also historically here./

And LBR she got mistreated by him (please, he told her to kill herself for him, and the goal was not to determine whether she had poisoned Mustafa truly) multiple times before S4, it was only because of the topic covered I mentioned S4 stuff, especially related to how he screwed her kids.

People think of stuff in "tangible" categories and why stuff like mere "awareness" (without leading a revolution or whatever lol) seems to have little meaning.

Which is again one of the main themes of the show - to give voice also to those who lost and as such do not have the "but we won, we were happy, we lived" defence always acting for them. Bah, even controversies or discussions surrounding them. They are losers, not even worthy to talk about, and put on sidelines. We often discuss what motivated the "big figures" who got to become rulers, even if we do not approve of their actions or criticize them. Rarely we talk about "losers". Which is what Mustafa's letter stressed - people will deem me as traitor, while your name will be written in golden letters because of all your victories. This alone will make your name remembered. And even considering that Mustafa was lucky in that people generally did not believe him to be a traitor, with Bayezid it was much harder because yeah he did openly rebel and it's not something we can deny. But some jump to conclusions like 'he was insolent and one day decided to rebel for no reason' (yes, I've seen such takes) is very simplistic. I do not even approve of a lot of his actions there since while I get his anger at Suly and Selim I hate how he involves plenty of soldiers in a fight without a chance to succeed as long as Suly ass lives, but damn takes like above truly erase what brought him to such point. Because he was the prince with bigger support at that time. He could have waited for his father to die soon and easily taken the throne. /And historically - yes if you actually dig up sources, he didn't wake up and decide to attack innocent cookie pacifist Selim lol/. Show! Bayezid telling Defne that he would be labelled as a "rebellious prince" for future generations with obvious evidence backing it up means a lot because even though he IS one, there is so much more to this story and what bought him to this point, starting from his father's attitude to him since he was a kid.

And damn I do need to stress the need for the critical approach to SOW (which does not preclude stanning the characters/getting interested in historical figures ofc)? Maybe not here, but I still see TikTok shit on “The big 5” introducing feminism to Ottoman harem. There is no revolution we can talk of in any case, but truly, where is feminism involved in Haseki institution? It only privileges one woman over others. The others are still required to serve them, which is why we had the Hürrem/Gülnihal and Nurbanu/Valeria stories. And what it ties with what Sol says once Hürrem tries to kill Gülnihal - her parents' ghosts appearing to tell her It's not revenge. It's not what you promised us. Meanwhile, the men are still in power, with a person like Suleiman having unlimited agency. More.. the man selects the woman he gives those privileges too. And even if he grants her freedom (if HE pleases so), it has little actual effect because we all know she is still forbidden to leave him and would have lost her kids anyway if she had done so. Thus said, the moment when show Hürrem slams the door to Sulyass' stupid face is one of my fave Surrem moments without a doubt and one of fave H moments in general ahsmshs. / BTW One day I will finally talk how Westerners focus more on say legal marriage when it that system having multiple sons was more ground-breaking because even free brides from noble families who did not have children had little power and agency. /

There is plenty of irony involved, just as Mahi finally freeing herself from attachment to Suly once he rejects her freedom to which he is entitled by the System. Bah, only he has the power to do so regarding his women. It's all only at his own discretion.

It is precisely what I also mean by "taboo-breaking" and the questioning Mahi does of Suleiman and the way he (as Sultanate) operates. In that world mere questioning could break the taboo. We do not know what future lay ahead for anyone, but damn what he kept doing was neither just nor wise according to the very norms of the times themselves. Yes, Mustafa was the most promising and fitting candidate for the throne and he did not betray his father, so Suleiman removing him from "open succession" was not even why this method of succession had been established in the first place and demanded from princes assembling their own support, also ensuring that he would be easily accepted to prevent discord and rebellions. Mustafa did it too well, the horror. And that him wanting to do something (also as he himself stated, since he got privilege of being the prince and be able to rule, he should not sit idly, but use it for good purpose and the people) only brought him troubles because of Suly ass own ego only shows again the problems with this system and being centered on one person so much. Suleiman violated a lot for his own agenda, centered around himself, not the future of the state. This is what Mahi is criticizing and stating it to his face when he tried to paint his son as a traitor to present himself as just and acting for the state IS taboo-breaking in itself. Asking the question instead of dismissing it all as "fate", as Mihrimah tried.

Mahidevran tries to awake Mihri, who while rich and "still in power play", is very similar to her in many ways (also with the one big sin that has weighted on them silently). They all lost. Even Selim. Getting Mihri's brother (Hürrem's son) on the throne did not mean triumph and happiness for her. Heck, even Selim is a walking wreck. It's not even about sides because SS truly managed to destroy everyone's lives, not only one side's, so in the end it's not even favoritism. All for him to go with his beautiful words, a show-off victory, and his beloved throne (while saying something else in his monologue). Mahi telling Mihri to stop holding her father blameless IS the moment making someone else's eyes open and maybe do not let actively go for something that will not help anyone out at this point, like causing discord between Selim and his son. These are small things that are important for the theme and how mental freedom is also of value. Same with awareness. Nobody expects revolution or claims something. And we are at a particular point when Mahi already lost Mustafa and says it already in the context with him gone. She won't resurrect him with her words ofc LOL. And Mahi truly didn't have to do this, just take popcorn and look at Hürrem's kids & other descendants fighting even more.

You can precisely see when SS decides how to dispose of Bayezid when Mihri says she will never forgive him and will be dead to him if he executes her brother. The lightbulb over his head in this moment lol. So her continuing to hold him blameless, while putting everything on Selim and Nurbanu is buying his shit and rules of the Sultanate. Mihri might have power, so she can stir things up in attempt to still "win", but.. they all lost. Her acceptance of it and stating it out loud before leaving Topkapi again has meaning. One might continue to have power and live in palace (unlike Mahi), but they all lost anyway. Mere meddling that can cause only chaos to still try to win is meaningless and can ony be harmful. As such, Mahi's words can have at least some impact.

Mahi and fate as Sol's post with Plami's commentary also has this delicious tidbit with mirror - most likely Hürrem would have never ceased to hunt down Mustafa after Mehmed's death because she had decided on eliminating him long before that and kept carrying out the plan via concrete & repeated actions. However, Mahi still questions herself on that because she can never know. And even if it changed nothing, it still tormented her and polluted her conscience. Because culpability is still there, regardless of "system" and circumstances" and whether it has any tangible effect or not. Same with Selim still being culpable even though SS wanted Bayezid executed. He still chose to do so anyway. Bah, he is actually very self-conscious and states clearly that he won because unlike the others he was able to kill his brother.

Similarly, Mustafa, Cihangir, and Bayezid also made their choices. Mustafa could have axed Suleiman and it would have been hard to blame him for this in the situation it boilt down to. Actually, he was the one with biggest support at that moment, so rules of the Sultanate definitely allowed him to dispose of an aging ruler who began making a multitude of mistakes. He had the biggest power at his disposal if he wanted to. Moreover, Musti also chose to invite the member of the opposition faction because she was his sister, despite said sister openly declaring her standing on the opposite side and speaking to him "with her mother's words" last time they met. Once more, instead of rules of Sultanate and how the system expected him to act, he chose familial bonds.

Then again, Bayezid did have Selim on his knees in front of him and chose not to kill Selim, despite Selim never promising him any change or begging for mercy.

They both died, but they also could have chosen differently and compromised their conscience and values in the process.

Yet the opposite choice to adhere to the Darwinist rules and get the throne at any cost is not something mechanic that promises happiness or safety, either. Actually, it can make you painfully blind. We see Hürrem deciding blood will be spilled only of her enemies once she learns her son is going to end up on the throne. When she meets with the witch after Mustafa is dead and the throne for one of her sons IS a certain thing.. it's not what she wanted to hear, starting from her own imminent demise from natural causes. Same with her trust in the "human face" of the Sultanate aka Suly ass:

The "right, sultana?" is an ironic call-back to the beginning of the episode when she uses same words about Suly's power to exclude herself from the matter of Mustafa's death.

Also let us note the use of the word "destiny"😱 .

Also, Hürrem did not come back to ponder her preceding conversation with the witch earlier, as she had another proof of herself not interpreting it correctly - when she assumed Nazenin's baby would be the one the witch predicated as the Sultan. Nurbanu was after all pregnant with Murad at the same time.. so no, the witch was not mistaken, Hürrem was simply so caught up in her own vision of how it would go (also with Baye taking the throne) or assumed the witch to be mistaken, so she didn't notice it was about her grandson.

Another interesting thing is that the witch also predicts Mihrimah's future and that while her physical illness will pass soon, the spiritual pain will soon start and persist.

Because even if we "win" in that we survive, it does not need to bring happiness with it. At all.

It doesn't work like this either (Mihri talks about sacrifing Musti and Cih), while we are at it. There are no simple mechanisms like that! And how Mihri adopts her mother stance and calls her out that only one of her sons can survive according to the Darwinist rules (which is also what Rüstem advocates in any circumstances, only for him there is no support for Bayezid really... any can go) is just irony at its finest, and it stems also from her feeling of guilt - I already tainted my conscience and went again familial bonds, so let it at least mean victory for my favourite brother. She is now quick to accept one of them will die, she just wants to ensure it's not Bayezid.

Another of Hürrem's children that do adopt her "survival no matter the cost" agenda (and no, it's hard going for that to "pacifism" agenda shortly after getting what you wanted), and to a bigger extent, is Selim obviously.. Selim states to Bayezid that he will live because he is capable of killing his brother for his own survival. But we know what sort of life this is (and that he won't live long from history). He might later quote his mother to Mihrimah and convince himself that since nobody is innocent under this dome, so only the deserving win, but outside that, he does call himself a "brother killer" and does consider it a burden. /And Selim being his mother's son is another fascinating topic, since he was like.. her least fave and yet he is the one most alike her and who most absorbed her views and agenda.. to later emerge as sort-of third unexpected faction /.

Neither Mihrimah nor Selim ever found peace after adhering to the System's rules of fratricide. Bah, they cannot even be a family again as the only surviving members.. instead they openly accuse each other of being brother killers. Judging by history, they will eventually learn to co-operate, but nothing will be the same ever again. There is no moral victory in it for sure. Selim does not claim it any point. Actually, he is the one to point out that: We all lost. Innocence died and nothing will be as before. We can accuse Selim of many things, but he is a pretty self-conscious character indeed.

The others might be dead, but they did adhere to their principles and values due to choice.

The power of reflection or questioning is also tied to to the concept of choice as what makes us a human. MC never promises us happy ending (how it could, we all know the ending point), but the mere presentation of choice, of humans trying to create something positive, like Mustafa, Bayezid, and Cihangir deciding not to fight against each other as expected, is meaningful.

Instead we got nobody truly winning or benefitting from what happened LBR. It cannot get worse than that, really.

The whole issue again reflects what I said earlier in that post on how Erdogan historical propaganda works. It's not all sunshine and rainbows, but there is no questioning at all. Instead we have normalization of violence and presenting it as something necessary, and that there is no choice or alternative to what happened. The sultan killed his brothers, but he had to. It was necessary, it was automatic. There is even no person behind it, but a robot always doing the right (even if brutal) choice because "it was like that".

And to some up the great ironies of life, we can remember that Mahi who lost it all... survived them all, so she won the Darwinist game in the end despite being rejected by System multiple times:

[witheredoffherwitch]

Yeah I agree with the last anon. I definitely don’t think all stories should be catered to us but it is kind of laughable to see the amount of unfiltered misogynistic discourse directed towards her and people consuming these stories always rooting for her to die so that him and the wattpad-esque OC can end up together. It’s definitely a trend and as the anon said, very much eye-roll worthy and unoriginal. It’s fine if people want to practice their writing skills ofc but a huge part of being a writer is being able to accept criticism and feedback related to the sort of the themes and tropes we use in stories. I think this is oftentimes conflated with “hate” and that’s just not the case. The “evil witch” trope has been around since fairytales existed and I get why people find it lazy because it inherently is.

Hi nonnie, hope you're doing well.

I do not condone this point of view. Every fanfic writer is allowed to create and narrate their own rendition of these stories however they wish. I believe shaming or even 'taunting' these authors is the worst course of action here. In fact, constantly questioning these genres/tropes can sometimes bring them into the spotlight - Lucemond and Jonsa are two great examples! I personally read stories filtered under both of these tags and have met with a great deal of pushback from other shippers for liking or even promoting these stories on my page. Fanfic writers put in a great deal of time and energy into writing these stories for free, without seeking any financial gain from their readership. Therefore, there is no significant loss for a reader who may dislike a story. While art is certainly open to criticism and interpretation, it's different from critiquing a more financially incentivized book or film aimed at a wider audience.

Secondly, I understand why you feel so exasperated - it is disheartening to witness the frequent rejection of Alys' character. I'm more sympathetic to those who view her as a victim in this dynamic - something of a 'war trophy' for Aemond. What really irritates me is how some downplay Aemond's power in the relationship, making him out to be a victim. If Ewan's portrayal hadn't gotten so much traction, I don't think many people would have even noticed Alys' role in his storyline - or perhaps they'd be applauding her for 'bewitching' him and ultimately sending him to his death.

That being said, I don't think fanfictions are the main issue here. Do people make Alys into an evil temptress and diminish her role as the other woman? Yes! However, we have yet to see her appear onscreen and we're still unaware of what direction the show will go in. With recent rumors that Nettles and Daeron may not make an appearance (which I'm desperately hoping isn't true), many Alysmond shippers are now concerned that Alys will be given the original arc between Nettles/Daemon before Aemond enters the picture. If this is the case, how fucking disappointing! As an Alysmond shipper, these fanfictions are the least of my worries. Other fanfic writers will keep crafting content for these two in the future - I'm positive of that.

I still believe (hope?) that Alys' character will gain popularity when she's introduced in the show but until then, it's best to maintain a healthy dose of caution when discussing them.

That's all 🤗

[thefallennightmare]

Chapter 21 oh my goodness! What an incredible chapter. Angel’s development and coming into her own, from the situation with Trey, and then even opening up with her therapist and ACTUALLY confronting the issues of running away and asking for help on how to actually address the problem spoke VOLUMES… because instead of once again running away from it, although a bit hesitant, she still took that step forward and asked for help. Then Angel’s entire demeanor during the interview. Her inner strength and self worth shined SO much in this chapter and it truly warms my heart that all of the outpouring love and support from everyone around her, Malcom, Chase, The BO boys & roomies, Joe, and of course Noah, have all contributed and awoken Angel and helped her realize that not only does she love all these people around her so much, but they also made her start to realize she loves herself and that she’s worthy of so much more then what she settled on and put up with in the past. I am so proud of Angel and I know that these are just the stepping stones of her really coming into herself and starting to break down all those walls she put up from all the trauma she’s had to go through.

Also, the daily texts of her and Noah… to just remind each other that they love each other. Something so small but also SO meaningful. And THAT TEXT FROM NOAH during the interview?!?!! MY GOD 🥵 and Angel’s texts to Noah 🥵 Her photos she sent to him, again just really gave that feeling of her coming into her own. From being in a relationship with someone who tore her down constantly and made her hide herself completely and cover up her entire body… to now her putting on sexy clothes to show herself off, taking sexy SELFIES like, yeah I’m a hot ass bitch and let me show Noah exactly what I got and what’s his, I am absolutely LIVING for Angel’s energy. I love that she has entered this main character state and is giving the vibe of “I’m in the drivers seat now” 😉 She’s no longer running, instead she’s fully pushing on the driver pedal and no longer hitting the breaks.

Also, the texts and conversations between Joe and Noah. I love that Noah knows and trusts Angel and didn’t even have any second thoughts or doubts at all about Joe and Angel’s friendship. The fact that Joe wanted to reach out to Noah and talk to him to share with him Angel’s growth and strength while being on tour. Gave such big brother vibes and again, I just really love this amazing support system Angel has. All of these people who surround her who love her so much and have really helped her learn to love herself.

Also, Nick’s texts to Angel and calling her Cinderella 🥹 oh my heart. And then Noah spoiling Salem and buying him all the toys and and oversized cat bed 😂 man needs a #1 Cat Dad shirt. AND the touch with the name tag… like are you kidding me?!🥹 SO sweet and then adding the symbols onto Salem’s name tag from TDOPOM… also such a sweet touch. I love how much Noah loves Salem 😭 truly the best bro’s ever.🖤

AND the video Noah sent Angel of him singing The Grey OH MY GOD. Noah sending that text to Angel and calling her sexy and telling her he’s gonna spend the rest of the night thinking of her bossing him around… like YES I AM LIVING FOR THIS SEXUAL TENSION and them TELLING each other exactly what’s on their minds FINALLY. This chapter was SO freaking amazing in every single way. I just love these characters all so much. I’m SO excited for chapter 22. And Nick telling Angel to wear red 😏 like okayyyyy I see you Nick. God just so many good little things all sprinkled through out this chapter. You both truly are so fucking talented and your writing is unlike anything else.

Sorry this was so long, I just had so much I wanted to talk about because there were SO many good and exciting things that happened this chapter. I seriously cannot wait for this next chapter because I KNOW it’s gonna be amazing. Especially with all this sexual tension built up between Angel & Noah from her being on tour, the texts they’ve sent back and forth, Angel sending her sexy selfies to Noah, and now they’re seeing each other in person after all of those events 🥵🥵 God I can’t wait for what’s to come! Thank you both as always for fucking FEEDING us a whole ass buffet this chapter. I’m gonna be going back for seconds, thirds, and 200’s from all the rereading that’s about to take place. Just when I think it can’t get any better, you both drop another fucking banger chapter and blow it out the park. 👏🏻👏🏻

Omg anon, can I just say it was like you knew Sarah and I were feeling so down because this message came at a great time!

You caught 99.9 percent of EVERYTHING. Our hearts are so so full. Thank you. We love you 🖤

Here’s a treat for you.

@thescarlettvvitch