#underwing challenge

[hatter-and-dodo-in-wonderland]

From the challenge: Draw your character wearing...

I start with the first: Underwear

Sorry Jervis 😅

There is FLOWERRRRS

He really has this underwear, I saw him wearing this and I stole it to make the drawing 🤫.

Note: Jervis's hair is growing, so he has brown hair with white hair and the blond dye is still here. He just went to the hairdresser's yesterday.

He has the same hair colour as Spanish teachers

[havocsforest]

why is it so goddAMN HARD TO FIND UNDERWEAR THAT IS NOT OBNOXIOUSLY BRANDED

MY DICK DOES NOT NEED TO BE SPONSORED BY ADIDAS

[probablyasocialecologist]

The study itself is titled, “Long-Term Regret and Satisfaction With Decision Following Gender-Affirming Mastectomy,” and sought to study the rate of regret and satisfaction after 2 years or more following gender affirming top surgery. The study’s results were stunning - in 139 surgery patients, the median regret score was 0/100 and the median satisfaction score was 5/5 with similar means as well. In other words… regret was virtually nonexistent in the study among post-op transgender people. In fact, the regret was so low that many statistical techniques would not even work due to the uniformity of the numbers: In this cross-sectional survey study of participants who underwent gender-affirming mastectomy 2.0 to 23.6 years ago, respondents had a high level of satisfaction with their decision and low rates of decisional regret. The median Satisfaction With Decision score was 5 on a 5-point scale, and the median decisional regret score was 0 on a 100-point scale. This extremely low level of regret and dissatisfaction and lack of variance in scores impeded the ability to determine meaningful associations among these results, clinical outcomes, and demographic information. The numbers are in line with many other studies on satisfaction among transgender people. Detransition rates, for instance, have been pegged at somewhere between 1-3%, with transgender youth seeing very low detransition rates. Surgery regret is in line with at least 27 other studies that show a pooled regret rate of around 1% - compare this to regret rates from things like knee surgery, which can be as high as 30%. Gender affirming care appears to be extremely well tolerated with very low instances of regret when compared to other medically necessary care.

[...]

The intense conservative backlash, to the point of disputing reputable scientific journals, likely stems from the fact that reduced regret rates weaken a central narrative these figures have championed in legal and legislative spaces. Over the past three years, anti-trans entities have showcased political detransitioners, reminiscent of the ex-gay campaigns from the 1990s and 2000s, to argue that regrets over gender transition and detransition are widespread. Some have even asserted detransition rates of up to 80%, a claim that has been broadly debunked. Yet, research consistently struggles to find substantial evidence supporting this narrative. The rarity of detransition and regret is underscored by Florida's inability to enlist a single resident to bear witness against a lawsuit challenging the state's ban on gender-affirming care.

[aymanfamily]

Evacuation of my Neurological Patient Brother 🥹🙏

Dear Friends and Supporters,

I’m reaching out to you today, on behalf of my husband, with an urgent request for assistance. My family is currently facing an unimaginable situation as I desperately seek to evacuate them from the ongoing crisis in Gaza including my brother-in-law, who is a neurological patient, and my mother-in-law who is 70 years old, and she is not only grapples with the challenges of aging but also shoulders the burden of chronic illnesses, including high blood pressure and diabetes. My brother-in-law's condition requires specialized medical care, as he suffers from a benign tumor in the cerebellum. He underwent two major surgeries to remove the tumor, and an internal valve was installed to drain the cerebrospinal fluid.

This operation led to a permanent disability in movement and stiffness in the muscles of the legs, especially the left side. He needs constant follow-up and permanent rehabilitation treatment, as he was receiving two physical therapy sessions weekly to relieve muscle stiffness, but since the beginning of the aggression on the Gaza Strip (more than 4 months ago), he has not received this service, and in the same context, he needs daily medication which is simply not available now in Gaza, as the healthcare system in the Gaza Strip has been severely impacted by the ongoing conflict, with limited resources and a shortage of medical supplies. It is crucial that we act quickly to evacuate him to a safer location where he can receive the necessary medical attention and support, in addition to the evacuation of 6 other members of my family.

As many of you may be aware, Gaza has been experiencing a devastating humanitarian crisis for years. The recent Israeli aggression on the Gaza Strip has worsened the situation, leaving innocent civilians trapped and in desperate need of help. Knowing that we live in Gaza City, but the Israeli occupation army forced us to evacuate our homes and move to the center or south of the Gaza Strip. We left our home on 13th Oct. 2023 and moved to the center of the Gaza Strip, which was supposed to be a safe area, but then the Israeli soldiers began military operations in the central region. Therefore, we were forced to move to Rafah, living in a house including 20 members. Currently the Israeli Occupation Forces are threatening to invade Rafah, where 1.4 million people are taking refuge in an area of 55 km2. If Rafah is invaded, more massacres will be committed in addition to the massacres that were and are currently being committed in all areas of the Gaza Strip. Note that our house was directly hit by a missile, and currently the Israeli army does not allow us to return to Gaza city and to our homes, in addition to the fact that Gaza currently does not have the minimum necessities of life, such as electricity or clean water, in addition to the scarcity of resources. So, in an attempt to save our lives, we are planning to evacuate to Egypt, but the cost of evacuation is exorbitant, far beyond what our family can afford, therefore I'm setting up a GoFundMe campaign to raise USD $59,000. Here is the breakdown of the funds: • A total of USD $49,000 is estimated to cover the expenses associated with obtaining permits to leave Gaza, as well as crossing fees at Rafah, at the Egypt-Gaza border. This amount breaks down to USD$ 5,000 - $7,000 per person (7 people). • It is estimated that USD $10000 will be sufficient to cover the basic needs of my family in Egypt, including their accommodation, food, and other essential. Every donation, no matter how big or small, will make a difference. Even the smallest contribution can help us an inch closer to our goal of saving our life. Knowing that times are tough, and the invasion of Rafah could happen at any time, noting that the crossing with Egypt is in the city of Rafah, and it is possible that the crossing will be closed at any time due to the invasion, so I hope you help as soon as possible. Many thanks in advance for your contribution to save our lives.

My gofundme link:

Thanks for your trust and support ❤️🙏

[wolfertinger666]

hello everyone, making this post to say that Nader lives with his family in Gaza under very difficult circumstances, facing severe shortages in food and basic needs.

His father, Ahmed, is suffering from cancer and underwent surgery a short time ago, but he is unable to receive the necessary treatment due to the shortage of medications and challenging conditions.

His brother's one-year-old daughter, Iman, is suffering from malnutrition and needs special care to ensure her well-being.

This family is in urgent need of our help. Any donation, no matter how small, can make a significant difference and save lives. Let's be part of the solution and extend a helping hand to them.

link here

[httpswritings]

pretty, pretty, please

alexia putellas x reader

The first month after giving birth was a whirlwind. A constant, exhausting rollercoaster of emotions. Every time you looked at your baby girl, a wave of overwhelming love would wash over you. You felt like the luckiest woman alive. Watching Alexia interact with her filled you with a sense of calm and happiness. It was truly a scene out of a fairytale.

But the reality of your changed body was a stark contrast to this idyllic picture. Your body was still recovering, and looking in the mirror was an agonizing experience. The stretch marks that marred your belly were a constant reminder of the changes you had undergone. You felt a deep sense of loss for the body you once knew, and you desperately tried to hide it from Alexia.

Despite your struggles, Alexia was an unwavering source of support. "How's the best mommy doing?" "You're so beautiful, mi amor." "Good morning, princess." Her daily compliments were a lifeline, preventing your self-esteem from completely crumbling.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day, you finally opened up to her. "What's wrong, mi amor?" she asked gently.

Even though you knew she would be understanding, you hesitated. "Do you... do you love me?" you asked, your voice trembling.

Alexia looked at you, bewildered. "Of course I do."

You knew she loved you, but you needed reassurance, a deeper confirmation. "I mean... physically. Do you still find me attractive?"

Alexia's face softened. "Of course I do. I love every single part of you. I'm just... I'm so afraid of hurting you. I know you're still recovering, and I don't want to do anything that might cause you discomfort."

"It's not about you," you explained, your voice catching. "You've been incredible. I know you're being extra gentle, and I appreciate it more than you know. It's just... I don't like looking at myself. I hate these stretch marks."

Alexia bit her lip, feeling a pang of sadness for you. "Amor..." she began, searching for the right words. "What's wrong with them? What don't you like about them?"

You touched your shirt, hesitant to reveal the source of your distress. "They're so big and noticeable. I'd think they're beautiful on someone else, but on me..." you trailed off, unable to articulate your feelings.

Alexia reached out, her hand hovering near your stomach. "You don't have to show me, love. Don't feel pressured."

"I just... I want to feel beautiful again," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.

Alexia gently pulled you closer. "Listen to me," she said softly, her voice filled with sincerity. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known. Your body is a masterpiece, a testament to the incredible strength and resilience of a woman who brought life into this world. You created a human being, and your body underwent extraordinary changes to make that possible. It's not just a body; it's a vessel of life, a symbol of your incredible power. You deserve love and compassion, even when you don't feel it for yourself."

Her words washed over you, offering a glimmer of hope. You looked at her, your eyes glistening. "I love you," you murmured, kissing her softly.

As you pulled apart, you took a deep breath and slowly lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach. Alexia's breath caught in her throat. She looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and tenderness.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "Every inch of you is perfect."

You could see the sincerity in her eyes, the genuine admiration she felt for your body, despite the stretch marks. It was a powerful reminder that beauty came in all shapes and sizes, and that your body, though changed, was still uniquely yours, still worthy of love and appreciation.

Alexia reached out, her touch feather-light as she gently traced the lines on your stomach. "You did something incredible, mi amor. You brought our daughter into the world. You endured pain and discomfort, and you emerged stronger and more beautiful than ever before. I admire you beyond words."

Her words, coupled with her gentle touch, began to soothe the ache in your heart. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, a quiet acceptance of your new reality.

Your body was different, yes, but it was still yours. And with Alexia by your side withyour sweet baby girl, loving you unconditionally, you knew you would learn to love it too.

This experience deepened your understanding of yourself and your relationship with Alexia. It taught you to appreciate the strength and resilience of the female body, and to embrace the changes that come with motherhood.

And as you lay in Alexia's arms, feeling her gentle kisses on your skin, you knew that this was just the beginning of your journey, a journey filled with love.

[iwanthermidnightz]

When I think back on the Speak Now album, I get a lump in my throat. I have a feeling it will always be that way, because this period of time was so vibrantly aglow with the last light of the setting sun of my childhood. I made this album, completely self-written, between the ages of 18 and 20. I've spoken about how I feel like those ages are the most emotionally turbulent ones in a persons life. Maybe when I say that, I'm really just talking about myself.

I think they might just be the most idealistic, hopeful years too. At this point in my life, I had released my second album, Fearless. It became the breakthrough moment I'd always dreamt of, one that catapulted my career to new realms of success. It had brought with it a tidal wave of pressures and pitfalls and growing pains. All the while, I was encountering the milestones and checkpoints of normal teenage growth. I had cataclysmic crushes and brushes with heartache. I moved out of my parents' house and set my bags down in a new apartment. I hung photos on my own walls and decorated the space where I would sob and cackle and shatter and dream. Sometimes I felt like a grown up, but a lot of the time I just wanted to time travel back to my childhood bed, where my mom would read stories to me until I fell asleep.

In my darker moments, I was tormented by the doubt that swirled loudly around my ascent and my merits as an artist. I was trying to create a follow up to the most awarded country album in history, while staring directly into the face of intense criticism. I had been widely and publicly slammed for my singing voice and was first encountering the infuriating question that is unfortunately still lobbed at me to this day: does she really write her songs? Spoiler alert: I really, really do.

In the years since, I've developed a thicker skin about public criticism and the cynicism with which some people approach the music I make. At that time, it leveled me. I had these voices in my head telling me that I had the perfect chance and I blew it. I hadn’t been good enough. I had given it all I had and been found wanting.

I wanted to get better, to challenge myself, and to build on my skills as a writer, an artist, and a performer. I didn't want to just be handed respect and acceptance in my field. I wanted to earn it. To try and confront these demons, I underwent extensive vocal training and made a decision that would completely define this album: I decided I would write it entirely on my own. I figured, they couldn't give all the credit to my cowriters if there weren't any. But that posed a new challenge: It really had to be good. If it wasn't, I would be proving my critics right.

I had no idea how much this pain would shape me. That this was the beginning of my series of creative choices made by reacting to setbacks with defiance. That my stubbornness in the face of doubters and dissenters would become my coping mechanism through my entire career from that point forward. This exact pattern of enacting my own form of rebellion when I feel broken is exactly why you're reading these very words, and I'm re-releasing this album now.

I went through my first worldwide scandal (the mic grab seen around the world). I experienced the weirdness of trying to get to know a boy while a swarm of paparazzi surrounds the car. Media contacting my publicist for an official statement on why two teenagers broke up. These are weird experiences to have at any age, but even more surreal when you're 19.

I had the nagging sense that in the most intense moments of my life, I had frozen. I had said nothing publicly. I still don't know if it was out of instinct, not wanting to seem impolite, or just overwhelming fear. But I made sure to say it all in these songs. I decided to call the album Speak Now. It was a play on the speak now or forever hold your peace' moment in weddings, but for me it symbolized a chance to respond to the chatter and commentary around my own life.

Some of these emotional revelations were surprising to people. Some expected anger and instead got compassion and empathy with 'Innocent'. Some expected a kiss-off breakup song but instead got a hand-on-heart apology, 'Back to December. It was an album that was the most precious to me because of its vast extremes. It was unfiltered and potent. In my mind, the saddest song I've ever written is 'Last Kiss'. My most scathing is 'Dear John' and my most wistfully romantic is 'Enchanted'.

I'll be forever proud of setting a goal and seeing it through. I'lI always feel shivers all over when I remember singing 'Long Live' to close the show every night on tour. The outstretched hands of those bright and beautiful faces of the fans. Their support was like an open palm that reached out and helped me up off the ground when others were, frankly, mean.

These days I make my choices for those people, the ones who thought I had been good enough all along. I try to speak my mind when I feel strongly, in the moment I feel it. I'm still idealistic and earnest about the music I make, but I'm less crushed when people mock me for it. I know now that one of the bravest things a person can do is create something with unblinking sincerity, to put it all on the line. I still sometimes wish I was a little kid again in a tiny bed, before I ever grew up.

I always looked at this album as my album, and the lump in my throat expands to a quivering voice as I say this. Thanks to you, dear reader, it finally will be.

I consider this music to be, along with your faith in me, the best thing that's ever been mine.

Yours,

Taylor

[redisthenewblue]

𝐉𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐔𝐋 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌

[Name] looks way better than whatever that is I swear.

Before Riddle's overblot incident, he saw you as somewhat inferior, and you accepted that without question. However, beneath his authoritative facade, he felt a clear discomfort when you were around. Calling you intimidating barely captures it; your tall, commanding presence, large, expressive eyes, and serious demeanor all added to that feeling. As a result, Riddle always kept a close watch on you, often finding some minor rule you had broken. Despite these ongoing challenges, your reliability was beyond question. Many believed that if Trey hadn't been a student at NRC, you would have undoubtedly taken on the role of Vice Housewarden. This opinion was especially shared by Ace, your junior, who found it completely puzzling that you chose to stay by the side of a housewarden often seen as a tyrant, particularly given Riddle's treatment of you before his overblot.

During Riddle's overblot, your collar was taken off, and he yelled in fury. In that moment, you underwent a transformation, becoming his equal in battle. Pain surged through you as you lost all control. Enormous wings—ten times your size—sprouted from your back, scales erupted from your skin, and antennas along with a pair of horns materialized on your head. You looked like something straight out of a horror story.

When Riddle recovered, he was taken aback by your strong personality. Being released from his collar confines, you were a completely different person. You broke the rules every once in a while and the worst part is, he didn’t get to tell you off. Maybe it was a voice from the back of his head telling him that that he owed you this freedom maybe it was the oath he made to relax on the rules. The best way to confront you using something besides the collar was a civil conversation.

“Riddle,” You leaned back in your chair peering at the male with half lidded eyes. “Cat got your tongue?” You teased your lips curling into a devious smile as your eyes reverted back to their normal unsettling appearance. Your pupils shift from side to side looking for something to get into.

“I—” Riddle sighed, “I’ve been lenient on you with the rules but you may not slack off like this.”

“Uhuh,” Your tail wrapped around a teacup and brought it to your lips. A bell rang in the distance. “What’s that? I gotta feed the flamingos?” You slipped away leaving behind a startled Riddle.

“[Name], what am I supposed to do with you?”

You were quite the unfortunate soul. Trey often caught glimpses of you peering into his parents' bakery during your childhood. You never stepped inside; you just stared. Your clothes were tattered and covered in dirt, with bruises and scrapes barely hidden beneath bandages. It was easy for him to understand what was going on. That’s why he couldn’t bring himself to scold you or Riddle. Instead, he often made it up to you by filling your mouth with the desserts you had always eyed.

When Riddle overblotted, it transformed you into a monster, both mentally and physically. Trey couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt for letting things spiral out of control. When the blot finally subsided and you returned to your former self, the first thing Trey did was apologize. To his surprise, you laughed it off, revealing your sharp canines. You were a completely different person now, commanding the attention of everyone around you. Perhaps they listened out of fear, but Trey wasn’t intimidated. All he could see was that cold, frightened child who used to linger around the bakery.

“What’s up?” You casually strolled into Heartslabyul's kitchen, leaning against the counter. “Any new treats?” You circled the counter with ease.

“It’s a bit boring, but I made pumpkin spice cakes,” Trey replied. “I wouldn’t eat them just yet; they’re hot—” But before he could finish, you had already devoured half of your portion, steam billowing from your nose.

“Twank chu,” you mumbled with your mouth full. Trey just shook his head with a fond smile before returning to the dishes. “You’ve got crumbs on your mouth, [Name].”

Cater never really had the opportunity for a one-on-one chat with you, but you definitely stood out. There was something intriguingly attractive about you. You were just tall enough to not overshadow Riddle, which was a nice balance. He had been hoping to feature you in his magicam, but the vibe around you seemed a bit off, especially with that ridiculously large collar around your neck. One thing that caught Cater's attention was how, during the entrance ceremony, you were so vibrant and commanding. Now, though, you were more reserved, creating space for others instead of taking it up yourself.

After the whole overblot incident, he finally managed to talk to you without Riddle looming nearby. You seemed quite popular, even if it was often for the wrong reasons, but you still maintained a laid-back attitude.

"You know what, hell yeah!" You snatched the phone from Cater's hands and hit the recording button.

“Suspect has a weird adversity towards cute things!" [Name] chuckled at Cater's shocked expression.

"I see how it is, [Name]," Cater joined in the laughter, enjoying the moment with you.

Ace was seriously annoyed with you, to put it bluntly. In his eyes, you were just another sycophant, yet another person enabling Riddle's behavior. He couldn't wrap his head around how you'd wear that collar for so long. I mean, for heaven's sake, he’s never seen you without it! Now, Ace might not be the brightest, but he’s not clueless; he’s noticed how you hesitate to do things, casting nervous glances at someone nearby as if seeking permission. It’s clear what the issue is.

What really took the cake was when Riddle pulled you into his overblot and wrecked the dorm's garden with your other form. He wasn't going to pin the blame on you for that, but you can bet he’ll bring it up frequently.

After the overblot, a transformation occurred within you, unveiling a previously hidden side. The compassionate person who once thrived on empathy began to starkly contrast this by exhibiting a bold arrogance that alienated others. Your self-centered behavior was concerning, as it seemed you were more focused on personal gain than the welfare of those around you. This shocking shift left friends and classmates confused by the significant change in your attitude. It seemed like the only way to get your attention was through impressing you. Ace’s best shot at doing this was through basketball tricks.

“Hey [Name] !” Ace called out to you as he leaped into the air to dunk the basketball in the hoop. To his dismay and slight surprise you joined him on the court.

“1 v 1?” He watched as you snatched the ball from his hands and dashed to the other side of the court with your tail swishing behind you. Did you just show him up?! Ace huffed, approaching you while also wiping the sweat from his brow.

“You’re on,[Name]. Try to keep up!”

Deuce occasionally spotted you around the dorm, exchanging polite greetings like "hello" and "good morning." Initially, he thought you might be a troubled student because of the color around your neck, but something didn’t quite add up. He had only seen you in the hallways and the dorm, which made him wonder how you could possibly break any rules if you were never anywhere else.

The pieces began to fit together after Riddle's Overblot. While you might not have been as skilled in magic as Riddle, you were still a descendant of the original Jabberwocky. It was clear that Riddle felt some level of intimidation toward you, and understandably so.

After the Overblot incident, you reminded him of one of his old troublemaking friends. You were a prankster who held yourself in high esteem, something people noticed but rarely spoke about. Even more evident was the fact that Deuce was one of your favorite dorm mates.

“Deucey,” you called out, a mischievous grin on your face. “What are you up to?”

“Potions! Making potions,” Deuce exclaimed in surprise as you leaned over from the top of the potion ingredients shelf.

“For Mr. Crewel’s class project, right?” You slid down slowly, approaching him. Your nose crinkled at the unpleasant smell of the potion. “You need to add more ingredients, Deucey,” you said, your large tail sweeping across the shelf and sending ingredients tumbling into the cauldron in one swift motion.

“[Name]?!” The potion began to fizz, bubble, and foam. “Is it supposed to do that?” Deuce took a nervous step back.

“Just give it a second, okay?” You waved off his concerns.

“But [Name], it’s—”

BOOM!

Smoke filled the classroom, momentarily blinding Deuce. When the haze cleared, you were gone, and the potion was… well, interesting? Next to the cauldron lay a small sticky note that he couldn’t decipher.

“What does ‘Beware the Jabberwock, my son! I have jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jujub bird, and shun, The frumious Bandersnatch!’ mean?”

It means, “Don’t tell Riddle I helped you! If he catches us, he’ll unleash hell on both of us!”

[choerypetal]

Cherry Red / Coriolanus Snow

summary : Snow had always harbored a liking for you, and your awareness of the platonic relationship with Sejanus only fueled his obsession, eventually culminating in decisions like appointing you as the First Lady of Panem. Just two pretty bestfriends both in awe by your beauty.

I apologize for any grammar errors as English is not my first language. Additionally, please refrain from copying my work without proper credit, as it may result in being flagged. Thank you!

How does one begin to describe this innocent youth, who simply wished for Panem to thrive in tranquility? Fate thrust him into the shadows of the reaping ceremony or the role of a mentor due to his father's actions. Despite being fully aware that survival in the Games was improbable, he, like many of his peers, managed to mask his fear, a skill he lacked. It was on that fateful day that he first laid eyes on you. 

You served as his mentor, a role you assumed without the same coercion he experienced. Unlike him, you had the choice to either be a mentor or a regular student at the Academy. Yet, recognizing that being among the select few who would secure a favorable position in the university and potentially pave the way for a brighter future for your family, you saw it as the least profitable option you could contribute. Even if it meant overseeing the fate of a stranger, your assigned tribute, in a perilous game of cat and mouse. 

During the inaugural week of the Games, you found yourself alongside Sejanus as you met your assigned tributes. Despite Sejanus displaying a sense of conscience regarding the circumstances and grappling with the notion of witnessing another species confined in a cage, he observed closely as you tended to your tribute. From that pivotal moment onward, each day saw him adopting a similar approach—nurturing his tribute, attending to their well-being, and primarily focusing on their strengths, all while harboring his internal opposition to the entire ordeal. 

You were the one who comforted him in the aftermath of the accident following the memorial for Arachne. While he was paying tribute to his deceased classmate, Snow instructed you to remove Sejanus from the scene. He, too, attempted to cling to her in a desperate effort to preserve her life, but it was already too late. With your guidance, advising Sejanus to shift his focus away from the crime scene, he found solace when you encouraged him to breathe and exhale. You assured him that everything would be okay. 

After that initial encounter with him, he underwent a profound transformation, growing closer to you. Your attentive check-ins during rehearsals, reminiscent of his mother's caring presence, played a significant role in this connection. Even stolen glances in class became a source of solace for him, helping maintain his sanity amidst the chaos of the Hunger Games, a veritable freak show.

You were well aware of his strong opposition to the idea. Despite enduring his complaints, you consistently reassured him that the popularity was just a temporary phase until graduation, and the Capitol would soon move on and forget. However, it turns out you were terribly mistaken. Despite the misjudgment, you believed it was the best you could do at the time. 

Fortunately, your relationship gradually deepened over time, even though you hadn't experienced the concept of falling in love. In a world where survival was commonplace in Panem, the notion of allowing oneself to fall in love seemed as ironic as it was rare. Despite attempting to suppress any burgeoning emotions for Sejanus, his softened gaze upon seeing you and the way he spoke your name with such warmth made it increasingly challenging. This, in turn, fueled suspicion from his friend Snow, who seemed to resent him more, suspecting Sejanus's potential feelings for you. Eventually, it became inevitable that you acknowledged and accepted your emotions toward Sejanus, whether they remained platonic or evolved into something more; the signs were undeniably clear. And Snow hated every bit of it. 

Certainly, rumors circulated throughout the Academy, fueled by the idea that someone as intelligent as you could outsmart even the wealthiest family, such as the Plinth. However, it wasn't until a few days before the commencement of the 10th Hunger Games that the scrutiny from your classmates' watchful eyes compelled you to hide your relationship in shame. You outgrew the stares, until finally implied official a mark to the relationship, all by holding Sejanus's hand with pride. The poor boy, initially taken aback by your sudden display of affection, was well aware of your usual reluctance towards public displays of emotion. Despite this, he began to grasp that your actions spoke of genuine love. It became increasingly evident that the sentiment was more than mutual. 

The aftermath of the Hunger Games told a different tale. Sejanus's emotional breakdown during the games hinted that his involvement was driven by a sense of altruism. However, many of your classmates, including yourself, emerged from the ordeal seemingly unscathed. It was as if you all were like minions, compliant in a sick and twisted game, a game where refusal meant facing death the very next day. The turning point came when you witnessed Sejanus screaming helplessly, condemning the Capitol as "sick monsters." His tear-filled eyes and desperate plea were a stark warning. You felt his gaze fixed on you, but this time, it carried a profound sense of hatred—a gaze that lingered ever since that fateful day. In Sejanus's eyes, you had become a monster, and he was painfully right. 

When Lucy Gray Baird was declared the victor of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow couldn't help but notice the shift in the dynamics of the relationship you had once shared with Sejanus. Despite his previous disdain for Sejanus, Snow's animosity towards his District 2 classmate intensified as he observed the unwavering focus of your eyes on him. You managed to hold back your tears, unlike Sejanus, burst into a complete symphony of a manic episode. Snow recognized that upon his return as a Peacekeeper, that he would make it his priority to take care of you. To Sejanus’s request if he didn’t make it out. 

Sejanus was acutely aware of his impending fate, discerning the emotions in your eyes as you fought to contain your tears—an act you were often admonished for in the harsh realms of reality and sorrow. A palpable distance had grown between you, and he acknowledged that he deserved every bit of it. However, when the news broke that he, too, was joining the Peacekeepers, you couldn't resist bidding him a final farewell. As the departure approached, Snow spotted you, witnessing the emotional exchange with his own eyes. 

He observed you shedding tears for another man, a sight that must have stung his pride. Despite the limited display of affection, there were undeniable traces of your past love for Sejanus. "I'll be a good boy." Sejanus would assure, and as you cupped his face, a rare moment of genuine closeness enveloped you. It was one of the first times you truly felt connected to him, and you yearned to grant him a farewell kiss, recognizing that this might be the last time you'd see him. "I'll keep your picture close with me... Even if you hate me so—" Sejanus began, but you swiftly cut him off, desperately emphasizing that any perceived hatred was rooted in self-centeredness. "I never hated you, Sejanus. Remember that." 

"I will." Came Sejanus's response without a hint of hesitation, and just before he departed, he sought a final taste of your lips. This act served as the last straw for Snow, tempting him to announce that it was time for duty, that he too would soon be called to fulfill his responsibilities. However, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to observe what it felt like to be genuinely in love, watching the two lovebirds share their final goodbyes. Though deeply haunted by the realization that Snow wasn't your sole choice, the haunting thoughts accompanied him throughout the journey back to District 12. Snow yearned to make Sejanus prove to whom you truly belonged, finding some solace in the benefits of the situation—until Sejanus's impending death sentence, that is. 

You received word of Sejanus's death while in the Capitol. On that particular day, you joined Sejanus's mother for dinner, a comforting routine that helped alleviate the absence of her son, engaged in his duties away. Despite her earlier tendency to downplay her husband's concerns for their child, she now comprehended the profound emotions you were experiencing mere weeks after Sejanus's departure. It was a moment of revelation for her when she looked into the eyes of her own child, realizing that her husband had been the true villain all along. 

Later that same evening, you started clearing the table when you heard the official news. A Panem Peacekeeper had arrived at your apartment. For some inexplicable reason, an ominous feeling gripped you, signaling that something had happened to Sejanus. Questions swirled in your mind—was he injured, or had homesickness prompted his return? However, any hopeful optimism quickly turned to tears as Sejanus's mother's anguished scream echoed in your thoughts. The heartbreaking truth emerged: Sejanus had passed away. The official explanation cited him as a simple rebel, but you suspected a much darker reality. Sejanus wasn't merely a rebel; he was someone the Capitol despised, refusing any association with their ideologies. 

The Plinth family arranged a formal funeral for their son, and while you had hoped for an invitation, you only learned about it through consequential rumors. Thanks to Tigris, who had the opportunity to style Sejanus's mother for her new job as a stylist, you were surprised to discover the disgraceful rumors circulating about your family. It was suggested that you had manipulated Sejanus to bend to your will, driven by your ambitions in the Games and an unbridled willingness to perpetuate a sick and twisted narrative for another year. 

According to this narrative, you were deemed no different from the rest—a citizen with psychotic tendencies, adorned in the veneer of fake affluence. These rumors reached Snow as he returned calls to Tigris back home, he wanted some update about you. Know how you were doing, as Tigris before hand had your confirmation that she would tell what had happened. Which provided a simple yet substantial reasons for his disdain towards the Plinth family from the very beginning, not only due to their subjective opinions but also their newfound hatred towards you. 

Upon returning to his role as a Peacekeeper, Snow found greater delight in seeing you. As you had gradually gained acceptance to the university yourself, securing a personal apartment became a challenging endeavor. The recent imposition of a new tax by the Plinth family added to the financial strain, making it doubly difficult to cover your university expenses. Fortunately, Tigris stepped in to assist, swiftly helping you secure a job. A renowned cabaret in the Capitol was in need of entertainers, and although hesitant to showcase your body for money, you recognized it as a necessary option. Fortunately, your employer treated the dancers well, and as long as you were able to pay your bills, he harbored no objections. Over time, you even developed a group of favorite regular customers. 

The streets of the Capitol had changed since his arrival. Not only had his hair grown, but wearing his father's wealth, symbolized by a stupid coat, had also demonstrated a newfound influence. Snow made sure to flaunt this affluence. The prospect of returning to the university and seeing you again mattered most to him. However, it wasn't until that particular evening when he decided to stop by your apartment that he noticed your absence. Puzzled, he thought to himself, as it was typically your time to prepare dinner or watch local television. Surveying the surroundings for any clue to your whereabouts, he recalled that his cousin Tigris had briefly mentioned something about you being the talk of the town lately. This revelation prompted Snow to consider searching the deeper and less savory streets of Panem for answers. 

It didn't take him long; as soon as the sun set and the lights of Panem's stores illuminated the streets, he spotted a poster. There, your face stared back at him, unmistakably you. "Cherry Red this afternoon! 9 PM!" Proclaimed the bold red and gold font, showcasing your entire body. Snow couldn't believe it—let alone fathom the idea of other men being captivated by you. Nevertheless, he entered. 

True to the promise, only the least affluent men in Panem and fellow Peacekeepers populated the bar. It being a Friday evening meant people were there to unwind and prepare for the weekend. Snow found himself struck by the stark contrast between his own downfall and the impoverished part of the Capitol. Despite the surroundings, he couldn't help but marvel at the luxury and lifelike atmosphere of the cabaret. Soon, other dancers spotted him, offering drinks or suggesting a little show, but he declined, asserting that he was there only for you, using your stage name, Cherry Red. 

Fortunately, he arrived just in time for your performance. With a man who wore outfits reminiscent of Flickerman noticed Snow's arrival, sporting a somewhat absurd demeanor. Cheeks flushed, a clear sign of pre-show indulgence, he exclaimed each word of your name with awe and pride. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, we have someone we love so much right here at Pub Rouge. It is none other than our favorite, Cherry Red!" 

Snow uncomfortably fell in line with the predominantly male clientele. Hearing "Ladies and Gentlemen." Was just one of the few flaws in the cabaret that he would have corrected if given the chance. To avoid arousing suspicions, he simply followed along, clapping like everyone else. However, rather than voicing your name in a distasteful manner, Snow quietly waited for your performance. 

The room filled with the vibrant sounds of the band and trumpets as you gracefully took the stage. Your outfit perfectly mirrored your name—bold and red as cherries. For those observant enough, it seemed as if Snow intentionally coordinated his attire to match yours. You immersed yourself in the character, embodying the woman you intended to be. The men of your age exhibited a mix of pride and envy, further boosting your confidence. Your playful interactions, especially teasing one of the Peacekeepers, earned you considerable admiration, much to Snow's chagrin. He overheard some background chatter about you, with phrases like. "I'd be with her anytime. Have you seen her curves? If I were the lucky guy, I'd do everything to show her who she belongs to." 

That fueled Snow with an intense anger, a boiling rage that churned within him. Fortunately, he managed to contain himself, sitting just far enough away to avoid you spotting him in the moment. However, his composure shattered when another voice crossed the line. "With that beautiful pair of lips, I bet she'd be a nice little whore and can take my big ass dick!" Laughter erupted, and though you were accustomed to such comments in the typically crowded environment, Snow, unable to restrain himself, swiftly delivered a punch to the man's face. Snow had completely lost his composure. As the scuffle continued, with the brawl escalating to a level one out of five, you were being escorted away. It was then that you noticed Snow's figure amidst the chaos.

"Coryo..." You murmured softly, as one of your colleagues attempted to escort you backstage. You complied with the act and tried to move, but upon catching his gaze after you called out his name, it took only seconds for Snow to be brought in, obliging even to be outside the hub before long. As he was pushed outside, one of the onlookers cursed under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned! If I see that guy again, he'll surely get a punch from me!" With his friends trying to calm the angered Peacekeeper down, he observed as you were escorted back, remarking, "I sense that someone had a little vulnerability over Cherry's presence."

Snow hadn't left entirely. In fact, he made sure to stay until the bar was ready to close. As he observed the group of Peacekeepers, memories of his own time in that role surfaced. They reminded him of the Peacekeepers in the Districts—little pieces of trouble, he'd openly declare if given the chance. Fortunately, you didn't have any bruises; in fact, you were so distraught that your colleague helped clean your makeup and took care of you. "My god, Y/N. What could've possibly happened there if you had intervened?" She questioned. Even you hated the fact that she was right; who knew what might have occurred if you had tried to break up the fight and ended up taking the punch meant for the Peacekeeper. You were well aware that Snow wouldn't easily excuse himself after this incident. 

By patiently waiting at the backdoor of the cabaret, he caught sight of another escort he had noticed earlier, who swiftly disappeared inside. He wasn't trespassing; rather, he was trying to reunite with you. Explanations could wait; for now, he wanted you all to himself, to taste your lips and be the one to incite jealousy among the Peacekeepers. Skillfully, he found his way backstage, drawing uncertain glances from ladies younger than you. They hesitated, contemplating whether to alert their boss about the intruder. It wasn't until he spotted you from a distance that even your colleague, who had taken care of you, noticed his presence enough to understand that it was her cue. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.” She said with her typical southern accent, and as soon as she was about to leave stop herself next to Snow. “Sir.” And bowed before leaving. 

On the other hand, you hastily adjusted your robe to cover your skin. Quickly, you applied the remaining red lipstick, swiftly cleaning the messy edges, assuming it was your boss's presence prompting the need for an explanation or reassurance that you were okay. However, as soon as you turned your head to see who it truly was, your eyes widened in shock. It felt almost too surreal, as if you had seen a ghost. "Coryo?" was all you could say. 

How he had missed you calling him by his nickname. Even though you had been in a relationship with Sejanus before, it was all thanks to being close to Tigris that you adopted the habit of using his nickname, something he cherished every time it left your lips. Particularly because none of his classmates, let alone his closest friends, used it. "What is this?" He questioned, his eyes scanning everything—from the booth to you, with a hint of disgust, shame. "Why didn't you tell me—" He felt a sense of sorrow, realizing he hadn't provided you with enough wealth, let alone a clean lifestyle. Tonight, he vowed to make a change soon. 

"Blame the Plinth." You uttered, attempting to push aside memories of Sejanus and your first love, concealing them as best as you could. Snow couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at the irony, recognizing that he, too, intended to make them pay for it all—every little bit. And in this endeavor, he envisioned you by his side. "I've missed you, you know." You continued, and to Snow's relief, he admitted the same. Perhaps, just maybe, a little too much.

"You have no idea how much I missed you too, sweetheart." He expressed, closing the distance between you. He kneeled, and even his piercing blue eyes softened as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. His finger gently traced your blushed cheek, the heavy makeup unable to conceal your undying beauty. "How about we go home? Together."

"Home?" You tilted your head slightly, doing your best to restrain your tears at his request. Despite the history of your relationship—from being a stranger to a friend and now a soulmate. "How—?" He nervously gulped, appearing confident in his words yet afraid to witness you in that emotional state. A state where money and selling your body didn't align with the image he wanted to see. "Because I'll do my best to take care of you." He assured, keeping his words simple yet sincere. 

"Home. A place to finally be yourself. No trouble, no feeling of doubt within your own self." And with that, you simply dissolved into tears, nodding in response to his confession. "Please," You begged, yearning for him, longing to feel his lips like you did with Sejanus back in the days. But this time, it felt genuinely true. Was this what true love really felt like? "Kiss me." There was no hesitation as Snow's lips instantly met yours in a hungry and passionate kiss, an expression of love since the very beginning. 

And in that very moment, Snow realized all too well that you had become his Lady. Not any kind of lady but the First Lady of Panem. 

Y/N, Snow.

[byoldervine]

Writing Tips - Beating Perfectionism

1. Recognising writing perfectionism. It’s not usually as literal as “This isn’t 100% perfect and so it is the worst thing ever”, in my experience it usually sneaks up more subtly. Things like where you should probably be continuing on but if you don’t figure out how to word this paragraph better it’s just going to bug you the whole time, or where you’re growing demotivated because you don’t know how to describe the scene 100% exactly as you can imagine it in your head, or things along those lines where your desire to be exact can get in the way of progression. In isolated scenarios this is natural, but if it’s regularly and notably impacting your progress then there’s a more pressing issue

2. Write now, edit later. Easier said than done, which always infuriated me until I worked out how it translates into practice; you need to recognise what the purpose of this stage of the writing process is and when editing will hinder you more than help you. Anything up to and including your first draft is purely done for structural and creative purposes, and trying to impose perfection on a creative process will naturally stifle said creativity. Creativity demands the freedom of imperfection

3. Perfection is stagnant. We all know that we have to give our characters flaws and challenges to overcome since, otherwise, there’s no room for growth or conflict or plot, and it ends up being boring and predictable at best - and it’s just the same as your writing. Say you wrote the absolute perfect book; the perfect plot, the perfect characters, the perfect arcs, the perfect ending, etc etc. It’s an overnight bestseller and you’re discussed as a literary great for all time. Everyone, even those outside of your target demographic, call it the perfect book. Not only would that first require you to turn the perfect book into something objective, which is impossible, but it would also mean that you would either never write again, because you can never do better than your perfect book, or you’ll always write the exact same thing in the exact same way to ensure constant perfection. It’s repetitive, it’s boring, and all in all it’s just fearful behaviour meant to protect you from criticism that you aren’t used to, rather than allowing yourself to get acclimated to less than purely positive feedback

4. Faulty comparisons. Comparing your writing to that of a published author’s is great from an analytical perspective, but it can easily just become a case of “Their work is so much better, mine sucks, I’ll never be as good as them or as good as any ‘real’ writer”. You need to remember that you’re comparing a completely finished draft, which likely underwent at least three major edits and could have even had upwards of ten, to wherever it is you’re at. A surprising number of people compare their *first* draft to a finished product, which is insanity when you think of it that way; it seems so obvious from this perspective why your first attempt isn’t as good as their tenth. You also end up comparing your ability to describe the images in your head to their ability to craft a new image in your head; I guarantee you that the image the author came up with isn’t the one their readers have, and they’re kicking themselves for not being able to get it exactly as they themselves imagine it. Only the author knows what image they’re working off of; the readers don’t, and they can imagine their own variation which is just as amazing

5. Up close and too personal. Expanding on the last point, just in general it’s harder to describe something in coherent words than it is to process it when someone else prompts you to do so. You end up frustrated and going over it a gazillion times, even to the point where words don’t even look like words anymore. You’ve got this perfect vision of how the whole story is supposed to go, and when you very understandably can’t flawlessly translate every single minute detail to your satisfaction, it’s demotivating. You’re emotionally attached to this perfect version that can’t ever be fully articulated through any other medium. But on the other hand, when consuming other media that you didn’t have a hand in creating, you’re viewing it with perfectly fresh eyes; you have no ‘perfect ideal’ of how everything is supposed to look and feel and be, so the images the final product conjures up become that idealised version - its no wonder why it always feels like every writer except you can pull off their visions when your writing is the only one you have such rigorous preconceived notions of

6. That’s entertainment. Of course writing can be stressful and draining and frustrating and all other sorts of nasty things, but if overall you can’t say that you ultimately enjoy it, you’re not writing for the right reasons. You’ll never take true pride in your work if it only brings you misery. Take a step back, figure out what you can do to make things more fun for you - or at least less like a chore - and work from there

7. Write for yourself. One of the things that most gets to me when writing is “If this was found and read by someone I know, how would that feel?”, which has lead me on multiple occasions to backtrack and try to be less cringe or less weird or less preachy or whatever else. It’s harder to share your work with people you know whose opinions you care about and whose impressions of you have the potential of shifting based on this - sharing it to strangers whose opinions ultimately don’t matter and who you’ll never have to interact with again is somehow a lot less scary because their judgements won’t stick. But allowing the imaginary opinions of others to dictate not even your finished project, but your unmoderated creative process in general? Nobody is going to see this without your say so; this is not the time to be fussing over how others may perceive your writing. The only opinion that matters at this stage is your own

8. Redirection. Instead of focusing on quality, focusing on quantity has helped me to improve my perfectionism issues; it doesn’t matter if I write twenty paragraphs of complete BS so long as I’ve written twenty paragraphs or something that may or may not be useful later. I can still let myself feel accomplished regardless of quality, and if I later have to throw out whole chapters, so be it

9. That’s a problem for future me. A lot of people have no idea how to edit, or what to look for when they do so, so having a clear idea of what you want to edit by the time the editing session comes around is gonna be a game-changer once you’re supposed to be editing. Save the clear work for when you’re allocating time for it and you’ll have a much easier and more focused start to the editing process. It’ll be more motivating than staring blankly at the intimidating word count, at least

10. The application of applications. If all else fails and you’re still going back to edit what you’ve just wrote in some struggle for the perfect writing, there are apps and websites that you can use that physically prevent you from editing your work until you’re done with it. If nothing else, maybe it can help train you away from major edits as you go

[aethon-recs]

2024 Update to Tomarrymort Longfic Recs — 8 additional fics

I wanted to add 8 lovely new longfics that have been published since the last time I put together this rec list — 6 more for the Intermediate reads list and 2 more for Advanced. Hopefully you’ll find something within these additional 950k words of absolutely brilliant Tomarrymort fic to sink your teeth into and enjoy:

Longfic rec list collection:

Tomarrymort Beginner reads are the fics I would use to introduce someone to the ship and help them get a baseline for the variety, themes, and tropes that best represent our ship;

Intermediate reads are for readers that are already familiar/sold on the ship, and are looking for fics that explore interesting new facets of the Tomarrymort dynamic; 

Advanced reads comprise challenging works of some nature, whether the writing features more complex subject matter and/or pushes the boundaries of what’s possible in a piece of fanfic.

Please enjoy these 8 additions to the list, all of which are either completed or still updating as of 2024!

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Intermediate Longfic Recs

A Light That Never Goes Out by @kippipies (M, 80k, WIP)

Setting: Non-Magical AU Premise: If Harry is the target of a dangerous crime lord called Voldemort and his gang of Death Eaters in a modern mafia AU. Why I rec it: This is a delightful, high-energy caper of a fic in which Harry is a scrappy low-time criminal who accidentally crosses crime boss Voldemort. Naturally, Voldemort sets his sights on getting revenge, but Harry slips through his fingers at the last minute each time. The action scenes in this fic are incredibly dynamic and super fun — I felt like I was watching an action movie at each confrontation between Harry and Voldemort.

And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 81k, WIP)

Setting: Time Travel (1940s) Premise: If Harry were flung back in time to Tom’s sixth year and almost immediately reveals he is Tom’s horcrux, setting off a chain reaction of obsession and control.  Why I rec it: An intricately crafted character study of Tom and how he gained control over the rest of Slytherin House by the time Harry meets him at the start of sixth year. Harry’s arrival throws Tom’s plans off-kilter, especially once Harry reveals he was Tom’s horcrux in another timeline. This leads Tom to believe the other version of him had somehow loved Harry, and shows him that it’s possible to form such a connection with Harry here if he wants, despite how dark, cruel, and violent he turned out and how little he cares for others. 

By Any Means by @corpium (E, 74k, WIP)

Setting: Alternate Universe Premise: If Harry has a younger brother Evan who is the Boy-Who-Lived, yet Harry’s overprotective actions towards Evan end up attracting the attention of Voldemort directly onto himself. Why I rec it: This is a really engaging and fast-paced adaptation of canon events if Harry were born 2 years earlier and his younger brother were the one that the prophecy applied to. The relationship between Harry and Evan is really sweet, as they share the burden of growing up at the Dursleys and all the adventures that Harry underwent in canon. There’s also such a fascinating exploration of magic as Harry gradually becomes more powerful as a result of all the trials that he’s put through, eventually becoming powerful enough to attract the attention of Voldemort. 

Pledged by @moontearpensfic (E, 118k, WIP)

Setting: Alternate Universe Premise: If Harry and Tom are best friends that enter together into a Hunger Games-crossed-with-Triwizard Tournament in their seventh year.  Why I rec it: This fic depicts co-dependency to such an intense degree between Harry and Tom. Not only are they inseparable best friends throughout their time at Hogwarts, they also perform a cooperative magic ritual that binds their magic to each other permanently, and allows them to share thoughts and feelings with each other across a mental link. There’s also an intriguing mystery at the heart of this story, as Harry and Tom try to figure out the origins of the Triwizard-style tournament that they enter into in their seventh year. 

Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 153k, WIP)

Setting: Voldemort Wins AU Premise: If Harry was raised in a pureblood family in a universe where Voldemort wins, and ends up attracting the attention of Voldemort in his seventh year at Hogwarts.  Why I rec it: This is such an intricate, incredibly thoughtful depiction of a society where Voldemort won and Harry was raised as a ward of a pureblood family. By the time it’s Harry’s seventh year, he’s a budding Arithmancy scholar who wants to explore whether it’s possible to choose the optimal timeline via arithmantic calculations, which catches the attention of Voldemort. Voldemort and Harry’s relationship unfolds in such a steamy way, and they truly feel like equals who hold each other in high regard, as Voldemort reveals that they have been inextricably linked by fate, whether or not he ended up trying to kill Harry as a baby in this particular timeline. 

the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3 (M, 15k, WIP)

Setting: Time Travel (Marauders Era) Premise: If Harry is sent back in time as an infant and adopted into the Potter family, growing up and attending Hogwarts alongside James.  Why I rec it: There is a dearth of Harrymort fics set in Marauders Era so it is such a delight to read about Harry’s friendships and rivalries with Marauders Era characters, like being best friends with Regulus and Quidditch rivals with James. As Harry starts his sixth year, the First Wizarding War heats up in the background and begins spilling into their life at Hogwarts as many of their classmates are recruited to fight on either side of it. All the while that he has to keep secret the strange mental connection that he’s had with the Dark Lord all his life. 

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Advanced Longfic Recs

Hearthstone Abbey (Series) by @ramabear (E, 152k, WIP series)

Setting: Soulmate AU Premise: If second year Harry is plucked away from his canon universe by Voldemort from another universe who is his soulmate. Why I rec it: I wholly melted at all the ways Voldemort takes care of Harry in this fic, better treatment than Harry’s ever gotten in his entire life, and Harry is so lovable and adorable in turn. Voldemort has established himself as a religious figurehead/cult leader in the alternate universe, and it was very interesting to read about his alternate path to power. The soft grooming in this fic was so so delicious, ramping up in intensity as the fic progresses; Voldemort completely dotes on Harry and their dynamic is so sweet and tender, a very nice counterbalance to the sinister and predatory tones that underlie their relationship.

if we were lovers by @reggieblk (E, 277k, complete)

Setting: Non-Magical AU Premise: If Harry and Tom meet in a prestigious drama programme and fall for each other against a backdrop of high stakes threatre productions.  Why I rec it: The character work is so rich and detailed in this coming-of-age story in a modern AU setting. It’s clear there was so much thought that went into all the character interactions here, not only between Harry and Tom, but also the ensemble cast of characters who inject so much heart and humor into this story as well. I love the way that @reggieblk cleverly weaves in elements from Shakespeare’s plays and uses the theatre backdrop to depict how the love story between Harry and Tom unfolds — their developing relationship feels, at the same time, both very immersive and cozy, as well as highly fraught with tension. (As a bonus, there is an absolutely amazing original play in the interlude chapter that was written specifically for this fic!)

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[arminthada]

NEW TEASER FOR GLASS HEART, PREMIERES JULY 31 ON NETFLIX

When a drummer is kicked out of her band, she meets a brilliant musician who invites her to join his new ensemble, TENBLANK. A band that quickly takes the world by storm...

Glass Heart premieres July 31. Starring Takeru Satoh, Yu Miyazaki, Keita Machida, Jun Shison, and Masaki Suda.

OFFICIAL POSTER

TEN BLANK INDIVIDUAL POSTERS

OVER CHROME INDIVIDUAL POSTERS

The band TENBLANK is officially making their real-world debut!

A 30-second demo version of "Senritsu to Kessho" ('Crystalline Echo'), a song from their upcoming debut album featuring vocals by Takeru Sato and lyrics by Yojiro Noda of RADWIMPS, is now available for early streaming on TikTok and Instagram starting today, May 22nd.

The CD will be released in two formats: a regular edition and a limited first edition. The limited first edition will include a Blu-ray with behind-the-scenes making-of footage from the drama's filming.

TENBLANK's debut album, Glass Heart, will be digitally released on July 31, 2025.

You can pre-add/pre-save the digital album Glass Heart here.

Netflix Press Release

Turn up the volume! The Japanese music drama Glass Heart premieres July 31 — and today, the teaser trailer offers a first look at the electrically charged, heart-thumping sights and sounds of this series. For the first time, fans will hear the song "Crystalline Echo" by the series’ band TENBLANK, sung by Takeru Satoh with lyrics by Yojiro Noda of RADWIMPS! In addition, teaser art and character art have been released. The teaser opens with Naoki Fujitani (Takeru Satoh), the lead vocalist of the four-member band TENBLANK, as the curtain rises on their live performance. The live scene, which involved over 5,000 extras and was shot with 12 cameras, is truly breathtaking, creating a sense of realism and excitement that ranks among the largest in Japanese drama history.

Along with Satoh, the band members — guitarist Sho Takaoka (Keita Machida), keyboardist Kazushi Sakamoto (Jun Shison), and heroine drummer Akane Saijo (Yu Miyazaki) — underwent rigorous musical training to deliver genuine performances.

Glass Heart follows Fujitani's growth as he navigates conflicts with charismatic rival vocalist Toya Shinzaki (Masaki Suda) from the competing band OVER CHROME, while becoming entangled in the schemes of a powerful music industry producer. Throughout these challenges, the band members support each other, deepening their bonds and growing as a destiny-bound unit.

The song ”Crystalline Echo," composed by Masahiro Tobinai and written by Yojira Noda, is just one of the several songs Noda pens for TENBLANK featured in this series.

Newly announced cast members include Erika Karata as TENBLANK's manager Miyako Kai, Pistol Takehara as Genji Kamiyama, Akari Takaishi as the diva Yukino Sakurai, who performs songs written by Fujitani, and YOU as Momoko Saijo, Akane's mother and confidante. Naohito Fujiki plays the envious music producer Ichidai Isagi, Takayuki Yamada as the vocalist of the popular rock band Takaoka once belonged to, and Reini as Mahiro Arisugawa from OVER CHROME.

Glass Heart streams on July 31, only on Netflix.

Story: Akane Saijo, a drummer who was ousted from her previous band just before her debut, is unexpectedly chosen by Naoki Fujitani — a reclusive and brilliant musician — to join his new band, TENBLANK. Together with band members Sho Takaoka and Kazushi Sakamoto, the band gains fame through Fujitani's distinctive compositions and their electrifying performances. As TENBLANK rises to stardom, they face numerous challenges, and Akane's journey from obscurity to stardom unfolds as Fujitani's secrets emerge. Will the band withstand the storm, and where will Akane's heart lead her?

i'm gonna be insane about this, thank you

[abyssal-ilk]

A thing that people always forget when chastising vivienne for being so apathetic to cole is the fact that she is a circle mage. People whom are forced to learn that you should not trust demons nor spirits or else they’ll put you down AS A RITE OF PASSAGE. Think back to what Mouse says in DAO. “Keep your wits about you, mage; true challenges never end.” She knows that for the rest of her life, demons will tempt her and try to possess her. She has seen mages turn into abominations, knows how they get them- of course she will support templars who have the skills to subdue them. And now to have a spirit scurrying around without supervision what is the last bastion against a Tevinter Sidereal… I too would be worried as hell if i were a circle mage.

EXACTLY!

not only is vivienne a circle mage, but there are also a few other factors that play into it that make cole so untrustworthy to her. vivienne underwent her harrowing when she was young– in fact, she was the youngest mage to have ever gone through a harrowing and survived it. we don't get to learn much about what she went through during her harrowing, but we DO have this banter between her and cole:

harrowings on their own are already traumatic enough, and with the added insistence from the circles that all spirits and demons are dangerous (which we see vivienne repeat above, "all it can do is harm."), it makes complete sense on why vivienne would be so put-off by cole! especially given how kind he is! she thinks that kindness is a ploy, and why wouldn't she if her harrowing was anything like the warden's in DAO?

and then that's not even acknowledging the fact that cole isn't just ANY spirit. he's the ghost of the spire. he's killed mages before and admits to doing so. and even though he was wrong to do so and realizes that what he did was wrong, that does not mean that vivienne automatically has to suddenly be okay with what cole did. of course vivienne takes cole being the ghost of the spire harder than everyone else in the inner circle. she is the only circle mage there. it is entirely plausible that she sees cole as a threat and views herself as being the person most able to recognize that threat because of what she was taught. it's why she struggles so much to empathize with cole on any level.

ive already talked about this briefly on another post, but cole is also fairly antagonistic to vivienne as well. it's easy to look at their dynamic and think that, well, cole is just trying to help vivienne but he... isn't? his version of helping her is prying into her thoughts without permission and continuing to do so even after she has shown clear discomfort with it.

cole drags her worst memories and thoughts out publicly in front of not just vivienne, but the rest of the party and anyone else who may happen to be standing near them. it's DANGEROUS, what he does, because vivienne is a player of the game. her position at court is a precarious one, and to have someone like cole who can just pick into her brain whenever he wants with no repercussions? it's scary! it's scary because vivienne has no defense against it, especially if the player supports cole and downplays the harm he does. and what can vivienne do about it? she's an ally of the inquisitor, and that makes her cole's ally by proxy. telling cole to stop doesn't work, insulting him doesn't work, trying to get the inquisitor to intervine doesn't work– nothing seems to deter cole.

which is why THIS piece of dialogue is so important to me:

despite everything i've said above, vivienne still cannot help but care about cole. no matter how dangerous he is, no matter what she was raised to believe, she still cares about him and worries for him. their dynamic is SO interesting to me and i really wish people dug into it a bit more rather than just dismiss it as vivienne being needlessly cruel to cole. it's so much more than that.

[iheartjulessforlife]

CLICK TO GET ★ SCOOP ON POP DIVA. “ BADGYALRIRI” ERAS.

YEAR 1990 — MUSIC OF THE SUN Era

At just 17, she burst onto the scene with her debut album Music of the Sun, embodying raw youthful energy and street-smart attitude. Her image was rooted in hood girl aesthetics—oversized jerseys, baggy jeans, and gold chains—yet tinged with innocence and a desire to be seen. Bright yellow and pink outfits became her signature colors, symbolizing her vibrant personality and youthful optimism. During this period, she was entangled in a toxic relationship with her 35-year-old manager, who kept her under strict control, limiting her creative freedom and personal growth. She was often pictured under his watchful eye, making her feel trapped but also fueling her rebellious spirit. Her music was a blend of dancehall, hip-hop, and R&B, reflecting her southern roots and street influences. Though her career was just starting, she was already a rising star with a fierce attitude, determined to carve her own path amid the chaos of her personal life.

YEAR 1992 — RATED R Era

By 19, she had finally escaped her controlling manager and the toxic relationship that once defined her career. This turning point was marked by a dramatic transformation—she shaved her head into a bold pixie cut mow-hawk, symbolizing her break from her past and her desire to reinvent herself. Her look was edgy, rebellious, and unapologetically bold, earning her the nickname *BADGYALRIRI*. She began frequenting nightclubs, embracing the nightlife scene, and hanging out with influential figures like Junior M.A.F.I.A., Lil’ Kim, and Biggie Smalls. Her style evolved into a mix of gritty streetwear and high-fashion street couture—oversized hoodies, leather jackets, chunky sneakers, and gold accessories. This era was about defying expectations, challenging gender norms, and establishing herself as a serious force in the industry. Her music became more provocative and confident, reflecting her newfound independence and attitude.

YEAR 1993 — LOUD Era

In her third year, she underwent a striking transformation—dyed her hair a fiery red, symbolizing her fiery spirit and passion. Her music took on a new, whimsical tone, with playful melodies and lyrics that showcased her versatility. She embraced a girl-next-door charm, blending innocence with a hint of mischief, which resonated with fans who appreciated her multifaceted persona. Her fashion was more colorful and fun—pastel-colored crop tops, flared jeans, platform shoes, and playful accessories—showing her softer side. The *Loud* era was characterized by her ability to balance her rebellious edge with genuine vulnerability, making her relatable and beloved. She became a symbol of empowerment for young women who wanted to break free from stereotypes while still embracing their femininity. Her performances radiated joy and energy, solidifying her place as a charismatic star who could do it all.

YEAR 1994 — UNAPOLOGETIC Era

The innocence of her *Loud* days faded as she re-embraced her *BADGYALRIRI* persona with full force. Now at 21, her music and attitude became more aggressive and raw, reflecting her tumultuous personal life. Her relationship with Tupac Shakur made headlines—publicized and intense—adding to her reputation as a rebellious, untouchable figure. She was involved in nightclub fights, rap beefs, and headline-grabbing drama, all while topping charts with her bold singles. Her fashion became more daring—cut-out dresses, leather ensembles, and statement accessories that screamed defiance. She was unapologetically herself—loud, fierce, and unrelenting. This era was about asserting her independence, embracing her dark side, and showing the world that she was a force to be reckoned with. Her lyrics reflected her struggles and triumphs, inspiring a generation of fans who saw her as a symbol of resilience and realness.

YEAR 1995 — ANTI Era

Still riding high as *BADGYALRIRI*, she launched her *Anti* album, which solidified her status as a chart-topping superstar and cultural icon. Her attitude was more refined but still fiercely rebellious—she had matured but refused to tone down her edge. Her music was anthems of independence, empowerment, and defiance, resonating with a global audience. Her fashion became more polished yet still street-inspired—sleek bodysuits, designer sneakers, and bold jewelry—showing her evolution as an artist and icon. She used her platform to challenge industry norms and societal expectations, becoming a voice for the marginalized and misunderstood. Her performances exuded confidence and authority, and her influence extended beyond music into fashion, culture, and activism. The *Anti* era marked her as an unstoppable force, unbreakable and unapologetic, cementing her legacy as one of the most influential artists of her generation and was on record her last album ever.

[alyra-3rd-bloom]

Recently there was a public survey for florets to express their thoughts on florethood and if they’ve experienced any challenges to adapting to floret life. I thought you’d enjoy some of the insights into the findings

About 33% of results weren’t at all to do with the subject matter and were just florets talking about how much they loved their owners. They’ve all been sent letters requesting they stick to the topics of these surveys and also a note to their owner that they deserve cuddles.

Of the respondents who have pinnates, 92% expressed affection and or love for one another, for the remaining 8% I would like to remind all owners of our “get along vines” we haven’t had a group not want to keep touching after a few rounds in these yet.

It seems that most if not all squirrel girls have an affinity for arson, why they thought to include that in the final comments section I don’t know but I’m both intrigued and concerned…..

One respondent left some feralist scribble along with a mocking remark about catching them if we could. If anyone is looking to adopt and train a feralist he’s waiting for you at our clinic. (warning, he’s a little woozy but will perk up in a few days)

When asked about what they were most enjoying about life within the compact, the most popular response was “no more landlords” this resulted in me researching what landlords were, and….., my goodness we did not get to these poor dears soon enough, the things they come up with when given authority over one another…

Around 15% of respondents who underwent memory alteration treatments claimed that they occasionally have dreams or vivid hallucinations of their past life, a concerning statistic, if you are one of these memory altered florets please advise your owner and then forget that you read this, if you require a trigger phrase Be a good flower and drop

Please let me know if you would like any further insights into the survey results petals

[benoitblanc]

what if i was a loner ridiculed by my peers for investigating the paranormal who had come to expect emotional neglect from the people closest to me and you were a scientist assigned to debunk my work and i was prepared to hate you on sight but you believed in me like no one had ever done before and you challenged my theories and laughed at my stupid jokes and i helped you come out of your shell and embrace the fact that you were deep down just as much of a weirdo as me and you didn't need anyone's approval for what you were doing with your life except for your own and when you put yourself on the line for me over and over and underwent a series of personal tragedies because of it i stopped sleeping because i blamed myself but you told me that your whole life didn't revolve around me and you made the choices you did because you wanted to not because i made you, helping absolve me of my lifelong guilt and unconscious god complex and making me realize that the friendships and bonds we form with other people are just as much of a revelation as the unexplained mysteries of the universe. and we were both fbi agents