#and other things. i Feel the spin. meanwhile i have no reference on what is expected for someone to feel towards their own creation

[malkaviian]

this is going to sound extremely stupid but i have been thinking for a few days now and. i think donnarose may as well became a special interest???? these little guys genuinely make me happy and i love developing them, thinking about their relationships with each other, it's just too much fun. but since i'm a whole autism with personhood i don't know if my level of enjoyment is normal and akin to someone with their own ocs or im once again having an autism moment. so idk

[cookie-crumblr]

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW’s: A SPOILER FOR THE INNOCENT ROUTE(not gonna say what it is XD) Dead dove do not eat, yandere, bully, F!Bimbo reader, reader referred to as she/her, one night stands, p in v, exhibitionism, condom use, creampie, multiple partners(not at the same time),

How F!Bimbo!Reader,

Meets him,

“Uhg, excuse you,” You say, standing tall, with your hands on your hips, even at the man that towers over you.

You were the one to smack into him, straight into his chest in fact.

He grins and pinches the cherry of his cigarette to put it out, before bending over you. His forearm is above you against the wall, his loose fist boxing you in. You don’t relent.

He snorts, bringing his other hand to your chin. “Think you’re a tough slut huh?”

You roll your eyes and push his arm out of your way.

He stares after you a little in shock without even realizing it. You remain on his mind the rest of the day.

How F!Bimbo!Reader,

Finds out,

you now share a room with the guy you ran into earlier.

“This doesn’t change our plans.” You say. You met this other cutie at a club in a strip not too far off campus.

“You’re gonna fuck this freak?” The tall strawberry blonde sizes up your fuck buddy.

“I could say the same about your lil piece,” You blow a pale pink bubble while inspecting her under your intense gaze.

She pulls on his hand, and he shakes her off as he holds your gaze.

Your “date” grabs your hand, and you rip it away to flick him off. “Ew. Don’t fucking touch me.” You push him by his chest down onto the bed. “Well, if you wanna stand around ‘n watch or whatever, be my guest. But i’m gonna get some.”

You hop on top and grind down expertly, seemingly ignoring the other couple in your room. Secretly, the knowledge of the guy with all the scars watching you is the only thing making you wet.

Mesmerized by your hips as you move them, he stands frozen.

You’re the thing to put him in, and now to pull him back out of his trance, “Hey! Big guy, ya hear me?? I asked what your name is”

“‘S Ezra” he tries his hardest to catch his breath before you notice.

“Kay, Ezra, you got a condom or what?”

“Here,” he tosses one your way.

“Thanks, this loser here didn’t bring any. To. A. Club.” you point a manicured finger at the man under you while rolling your eyes.

“Woah!” the chick Ezra brought is lifted into his lap.

He puts a condom on, lining himself up with her.

You put your guy’s condom on and guide him into you.

“Uuuunnnf” The guy beneath you convulses a little.

“No fucking way. Did you just fucking come!?” You feel rage bubble and roil in your gut. “Fuck you! get outta here!”

“Wh-what? I’m s-sor—”

“Get. Out.” You practically jump off of him, and shove him out the door, fly still down, and limp dick still out.

Meanwhile, Ezra next to you is having no better luck. He’s trying not to stare at you while letting his chick get herself off on him.

You spark up a cigarette and pout.

The woman works herself to sleep before he can even get close. And the only thing that would have made him come, would have been watching you do it first.

You’re both disappointed and frustrated.

You risk the glance at him, not wanting to be seen as weak at all, but desperation outweighs the possible costs.

The second your eyes meet however he jumps to his feet.

You eye up that tall dish of a man(and his thick cock) as he swiftly stalks over, feeling giddy.

He pushes you into the small mattress, and pulls your body to him by your ankles.

He ops to lay behind you and hold your leg up.

“Play with yourself” He whispers dangerously close to your lips and stares deep into your eyes.

“N-no kissing.” You say, feeling a little bit shy all of a sudden…“I still have rules”

He snorts as he rubs his bare dick against your skin, getting your slick along his length. “Fine, no kissin’. One of my rules too ‘nyway”

You start expertly spinning a couple pretty and done up fingers on your clit.

“hah! Finally!” You moan gutturally as he enters you. His cock is thick enough to stretch you almost painfully. You keegle around him pleasuring you both.

“Such a tight fucking cunt” he grunts breathlessly.

“You like it? c’mon and fuck it like you own it.” You snap.

“Mmf, you’ll take what i give ya, slut” he starts a deep, and punishing rhythm.

Your body bounces with each slam and it feels absolutely divine.

“Fuck! Yes!!” You egg him on and pull your own leg tighter to your chest.

The muscles in his legs are all completely taught as he quickens his thrusts, and keeps the same force.

He brings you deliciously to your edge, and you push yourself over with your fingers. “Ahh!! Fucking Finally!”

“Such a fuckin’ slut, comin’ on this cock” He lets go of your leg opting to slap your thigh raw.

Your brows knit, “Ffff-fuck” Your legs are starting to shake with the overstimulation.

He continues to stuff you full, and slap you over and over again.

His hips shudder and with a few even quicker, deeper thrusts, he finishes inside you. You both cry out! You come again along with him and feel satisfied for the first time in so long.

“You better be ready to go again”

[hauntingjasper]

Well... we have the headcanons about Gumball and Marshall, could you tell us your headcanons about Gumlee (it's my favorite ship, I love them so much!)

Ofc! 🫶

1- I'll start off with their height difference, the spin-off made me love Gumball/Gary being taller than Marshall. (My hc for Marshall Lee is like 6’0. I don't think I mentioned that on his headcanons list hghshshsjue)

2- As for their story together, I think that Marshall Lee would've caught feelings first, but because they were still just friends at the time + Gumball being arospec and only developing feelings later + denial, he didn't say anything about it. Still, they were pretty affectionate with each other, resulting in multiple questions if they were dating. I think that's worth like,, , half a millennium together.

3- That's pretty much canon at this point but I love the thought of Gumball always making extra red or pink food for Marshall Lee. The equivalent of this in the human world would be Marshall Lee being a bit of a picky eater and Gary having his preferences in mind when he's cooking for both of them. He might also ask if he wants to try one thing or another.

4- Gumball has the habit of checking Marshall Lee's temperature when they're cuddling or when they're somewhere warmer. I've said this before in another ask post but Marshall can't produce or maintain body heat properly, so he tends to stay closer to things that emanate heat. It won't make him feel as warm as a normal person would, but it helps a little. Gumball has to put his hand on Marshall's face or neck to check how warm he is at least once, not for study reasons, but because he just likes to do that.

5- Meanwhile, Marshall Lee likes to put his ice cold hands on him at random just to startle him.

6- Still on the temperature thing, Gumball doesn't mind being touchy with him, especially during the summer, despite Marshall Lee being practically an ice rock, but.. sometimes, it's preferable that Marshall is fully covered and has a blanket 😭

7- Kinda nsfw, but they're switches. Gumball tops more often though, I said what I said.

8- They sometimes use nicknames for each other, of course. Gumball calls him Mars or "Schnucki", I looked it up and apparently it means "Schmoopy" in German, and then I found out that there is such a thing as a "Schmoopy couple". They're not as obnoxious as the definition says when it comes to PDA, though. Marshall Lee calls him anything that has to do with candy, but he'll especially call him Bubba, Bubbaloo or Bubs. He might call him Gary too as a nickname, Gumball's name is different in this. His full name is Gareth Victor Gumball, and "Gareth" just makes Marshall giggle.

9- Obligatory clothes sharing headcanon. To this day they keep a few of each other's shirts.

10- Marshall Lee already bit Gumball once, at his request, to see if he would turn into a vampire. He didn't. Now he keeps biting him to show affection.

11- Okay so from what I've seen, it's incorrect to refer to a prince as "Your Majesty", since that's how you should refer to a King or Queen. You should say "Your Highness" when referring to a prince/princess. My headcanon is that there's some correlation between Marshall Lee purposely using the wrong title when they're exes, the fact that he technically outranks Gumball as The Vampire King and that he's petty. I don't know how to elaborate it but the thought is there 🫴

12- Between Gumball and Marshall Lee, Marshall is the most protective of them and he's more prone to jealousy. It's easy to tell when he's jealous, because he'll instantly hold onto Gumball and stare until the person leaves. I think Gumball would get sarcastic when he's jealous.

I think that's all. Thank you for the ask!

[theabyssgazesalsointoyou]

okay due to popular demand: here's my full bmc zombie apocalypse au post. a zombie apocalypse au is kinda mandatory for bmc. except mine is special because it's based on a dream i had/j

the story begins with jeremy, our main character, of course. he was with mr. heere when the apocalypse broke out and the two went looking for a safe place. eventually they arrive at an abandoned amusement park turned into a base camp by survivors. mr. heere wants to stay there until they can further figure things out but jeremy wants to look for michael. so he sneaks out alone, hoping that his dad will be safe and that he'll be able to find michael.

cut scene to rich- he's in a dark long tunnel, maybe it's a subway tunnel or maybe it's the sewers. he doesn't have a light source apart from the flickering ceiling lights and every echo of his own steps triggers his paranoia. then the zombies appear behind him and he's running toward a door on the far end of the hallway. but the door's jammed- he manages to slam it open with his shoulder and discovers to his horror that a man had been trying to keep the door closed from the other side. the man tries to get up and run but he's not fast enough and there's nothing rich can do but keep running. he doesn't look back at the horrible sounds echoing from the walls but guilt follows him into the sunlight.

next is christine. she's wandering the empty halls of middleborough high. the hallways are brightly lit with the sunlight streaming through open windows but everything's eerily quiet- not a single bird song to be heard- until she hears ragged breathing and growls coming from god knows where. she runs into the nearest classroom and locks the door in panic, and only when she spins around, hands shaking and hyperventilating, does she realize brooke and jake are already there.

brooke is her usual sunny self- or at least trying to be. she greets christine and pointedly ignores the zombies clawing at the doors from outside, instead explaining how she set up a shelter here and collected supplies and plans to eventually recruit more survivors. jake, on the other hand, isn't doing so good. he's sitting at a desk with his head in his arms and only glances up for a second to acknowledge christine. there's a younger girl huddled up on the floor next to his legs- chloe's little sister, christine realizes.

chloe and jake used to be a team. used to, before 'the incident', as she refers to. they were looking for chloe's little sister when they encountered a few zombies- no big deal, they're both fighters and jake had a gun. but the moment the zombies fell to the ground, the split second he met their glassy eyes, he collapsed to his knees as well. "Fuck. Fuck, no, fuck- no, no, no, it can't be- dad?"

jake was inconsolable, a screaming sobbing mess, half out of his mind. chloe had no idea what to do. she's never been good with emotions and an extreme situation like this was certainly not an exception. in her panic she shouted out "Jake. Jake! Stop it! It doesn't matter, okay? He was already dead, you couldn't-"

and that's how jake completely lost it. he stormed off and chloe couldn't stop him. eventually he cooled down and that's when he found chloe's little sister but he couldn't get back to her.

chloe, meanwhile, is confused and lost and in despair when she stumbles into jenna by complete chance. she isn't sure how to feel about that- jenna makes it extremely clear she does not like nor trust chloe but what choice do they have? it's a post-apocalyptic world. high school drama means nothing.

and michael. michael was completely prepared for this zombie apocalypse shit. he has a map, plentiful supplies, a safehouse in the basement where all his family are, a plan b and c and d. jeremy knows about this, too, so logically michael's best move would be to wait for jeremy to find him. but how could he? how could he just leave his best friend out there alone, not even knowing if he's alive? of course michael has to go looking for him. even with the possibility their paths won't cross and they'll never find each other.

[fallingthruspace]

I’ve seen a few posts about the idea of Eddie and Chrissy showing up in season 3 and decided I wanted to expand/put my own spin on it.

Obviously Eddie gets a job at the music store inside Starcourt

He works most of his shifts by himself until the owner tells him that he’s hired another employee

A couple days later Eddie is in the process of carrying something out from the backroom when the owner calls him to come meet his new coworker

Much to Eddie’s surprised it is none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham the girl he’s been nursing a huge crush on since middle school

Chrissy spends the day learning the ins and outs of the store while she and Eddie get to know each other, and at some point they have what is basically the forest conversation from 4.01

When their shift is over Eddie insists on treating her to ice cream at Scoops Ahoy to celebrate a successful first day. Chrissy tries to politely decline but Eddie insists so she agrees but only on the condition that she can treat him when she gets her first paycheck.

I have a headcanon that Eddie is already friends with Robin in this AU because I fully believe they would be hilariously chaotic besties if given the chance. He wasn’t too fond of Steve at first, but after a few weeks of hanging out at Scoops to bug them Steve and Eddie have something that could almost be called a friendship. They mostly just rag on/snark at each other, but there’s no malice behind it. (Eddie LOOOVES making fun of Steve’s uniform)

Both Robin and Steve are naturally surprised to see Eddie Munson strolling in with Chrissy Cunningham of all people, and Robin spends a good few minutes shooting looks at Eddie because she is 100% aware of his massive crush

Scoops Ahoy becomes a regular hangout for Eddie and Chrissy and that’s where they get to know “Steve’s Kids”, as Eddie refers to them because they’re also always there

Chrissy is still dating Jason who periodically comes to visit her at work and is of course a dick about her working with “the freak”, no matter how much Chrissy tries to convince him that Eddie is completely harmless

Eventually things come to a head and Chrissy breaks up with him, partially because of other things but also because he won’t stop being an asshole towards someone who she now considers a very good friend. Maybe even her best friend. Chrissy feels a little guilty that she’s not as upset about their relationship ending as she should be

Afterword her and Eddie share an ice cream sundae to “celebrate” her dumping Jason. Robin and Steve are proud of her too because they also thought Jason was a huge dick (no one likes Jason)

I feel like Chrissy and Eddie are pretty much oblivious to everything that’s going on for about 80-90% of s3. Like everyone else is dealing with the Upside Down and Russian spies and shit, meanwhile those two are about 2/3 of their way into a slow burn 200k friends to lovers fic on ao3 😂

They probably get dragged into it right after the Scoops Troop escapes from the Russians

Maybe they have the day off or something and they go to see Back to the Future when Steve and Robin plop down next to them, both obviously high off their asses and Steve looking like he just got beat within and inch of his life

They drag the two to the nearest bathroom to get Steve cleaned up and this segways into Steve and Robin’s bathroom convo

After that a lot of shit happens really fast and before Eddie and Chrissy know what’s going on they get roped into the fight against the Upside Down and now there’s a Giant Eldrich Monstrosity in the middle of the food court and they’re helping Lucas Sinclair throw fireworks at it

In the end, Eddie and Chrissy get absorbed into the Party because fighting inter-dimensional monsters has a real way of bonding people together

Steve’s Kids also become Eddie and Chrissy’s Kids, especially Dustin(of course)

Sometime during that summer, Eddie and Chrissy eventually stop beating around the bush and finally get together (much to the relief of Dustin and Robin who have been trying to get them there since before the “mall fire”)

The two naturally cause a stir at Hawkins High when The Freak and The Cheerleader show up for their senior year arm in arm and acting like a couple of lovebirds

When season 4 rolls around Chrissy does NOT get Vecna’d because she actually has a support system now, but others are not so lucky

Jason, of course, still blames Eddie for the murders because he’s a grade A dick and now has the motivation of The Freak “stealing his girl” and the gang has to clear his name while trying to destroy Vecna

Lmao my brain really ran away with this and now I want to write a whole fic for it help

[protege-not-protagonist]

Criminal Minds: The Protégé Chapter 1

Ch 1: Please, Not Another Auditor.

Blurb: After deciding to leave the BAU, Spencer is now a full time professor at the FBI Academy, teaching profiling and criminology. Spencer is struggling to live life without the BAU, but that is to be expected when it has been all he has known for almost 2 decades. The BAU meanwhile, struggled to find someone to fill the genius shaped hole in the team when he left, and they still are struggling. At least, that's how the newest profiler, Agent Grace Matthews feels. Grace is good at what she's good at, it's why the bureau accepted her earlier than most. But how could anyone live up Dr. Reid's legacy? So, when Grace answers a call intended for her desk's previous owner, she jumps at the chance to meet her predecessor and ask him for some advice. Together, they find a kinship… but unfortunately, they also uncover a disturbing pattern in the deaths of inmates and patients the BAU have helped put away.

Masterlist

Audience: 16+ mature audience for depictions of violence and sexual references

Author's Note: You might have recognised this story from it's previous iteration on Ao3. I had a bit of a personal crisis and deleted my account. So I am re-editing what I have saved on my computer and reuploading it with some fixed continuity errors now that I finished CM Evolution. Will be cross posted here and on Ao3. This fic is dedicated to giving Spencer a happy ending, serving my desire to write crime/mystery and getting my horrific idea's for unsubs out of my head. Set in 2023, and mostly canon compliant. Sorry this is all plot, no peen. But promise there will be a love interest for Spencer, and Grace acts as a wingman for. This more a found family/ give Spencer a smol bean to mentor fic.

TW: murder, prison, criminology terms

Five years ago: Honolulu women's state penitentiary, Hawaii, April 29th 2017

‘So, what do you think detective?’ Rossi asked as the guard buzzed them through to the observation room.

‘Chief thinks based on the evidence before this fourth victim showed up, we caught our girl.’ Detective Fahnu sighed.

‘That’s all well and good, but I asked what you think Mark, cause this is a real bad time to call in a favour. Back home, a real spaghetti stick of an FBI agent, who happens to be like family to me, is in the clink, and we’re busting our asses trying to get him out before he dies. And you calling me here means I had to ask my boss if I can fly off to Hawaii for a weekend. It looks real bad, okay? So you better have a gut churning reason to keep me here, or I’m gone.’

‘It’s more head spinning than gut churning,’ Fahnu nodded through the mirrored glass window at the inmate sitting cuffed to the desk. ‘It’s just never sat right how fast we closed this one. Kauai is a small island, Li’hue is an even smaller town, people are terrified and out for blood, it’s been bad for tourism, and the local government is calling for heads Dave. Chief wanted this case solved fast. We made a profile, and she fit the bill.

‘She’s a loner, got the whole Wednesday Addams thing goin’ for her, spends her free time in cemeteries, works at a funeral home, no friends at school, quiet, never had a boyfriend or anything like that. But had a good family, didn’t so much as sneeze out of turn in public, school, work, even here she is a model prisoner after the first month. We all knew her at the station, not from any trouble, but she was a paper waster, reporting dead animals, reporting goddamn rocks being moved, cats that went missing, insisting there was a serial killer out there… well what do you know, one turns up, and she inserts herself into the investigation, you people said they do that. So with no other leads or suspects, she starts looking promising. So we got a warrant, and we found… well you know what we found and then there was the internet history.

'And here we are eight months later. I’m not sure what to think Dave, cause I know her family and character witnesses, they’re good people, they don’t lie. But neither does evidence and until this new victim showed up, all of it pointed to her. Someones playing games and I don’t know who it is.’

‘And she plead guilty?’ Rossi asked.

‘I’m not even sure about that anymore, you have the case file there?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Does it have her records while in Kauai Jail?’

Rossi flicked through it again, he saw her 3 weeks here in solitary till she turned 18 and could be placed in a cell in E block, but strangely her transfer and county jail records were missing. ‘No.’

Detective Fahnu passed him a yellow envelope. ‘These somehow never made it across my desk until this week after number four showed up.’ Rossi opened the folder and winced. ‘As soon as I saw those… I knew I made the right call asking you to come. I can’t sleep Dave, I gotta know we caught the right one.’

‘Well, either way you’ve got someone else to catch, the new victim had traces of Semen still on them?’

‘You’re right, we’re running it now hopefully it'll give us a lead, I'm sorry I can’t stay for this, we’re conducting family interviews in an hour, I at least need to be there on conference call but, let me know how this goes. I appreciate this a lot.’

‘Don’t sweat it, I’ll call you tonight, when this is done. Take care Mark.’ Rossi waved the detective off and took one more look over the files, especially the new ones from the county jail.

He observed the girl in the interview room. Her head hung over the desk as she leant on her elbows and bounced her leg. Her buzzed cropped hair now starkly different from the long curly mane in the mugshot that had been taken in November last year. She looked up and peered at the glass, only able to see her reflection, but somehow she sensed his stare and met his eyes.

It was time.

Quantico FBI Academy, VA Thursday July 2023 11:15 am

‘And it is this repeated and obsessive element of an M.O. that can indicate a paraphilia. Paedophilia, necrophilia are well known paraphilia that are criminal in nature. Now paraphilia can be anything, it doesn’t have to be a criminal act, but it can form part of a signature. Can anyone name what type of paraphilia dendrophilia is?’ he asked.

Blank faces met him. Well, the faces that looked up from their notes frantically were blank. The two auditors of the class always disconcertingly looked like their minds were elsewhere. One day, Spencer sighed quietly to himself. One day someone would know. ‘It’s…’

‘Trees,’ a quiet, unfamiliar voice called out hesitantly from the back row. ‘It’s an attraction to trees, dendro from the Greek dendron meaning tree, philia also Greek, meaning strong fondness and love amongst equals.’

The voice was not one of his students this term; he was certain. He could pick their voices. Spencer swiveled his head, scanning his students to get a glimpse of the first person to answer that question since he started asking it. His suspicions were confirmed; she was not supposed to be in this class. The voice belonged to a young woman, probably early twenties, with dark hair in braided pigtails on either side of her head. She fidgeted with her glasses before stuffing her hands back into her cardigan pockets. Their eyes met and she gave him a small smile.

‘…Yes, that’s right, trees. Any ideas what kind of behaviour might be displayed in a signature if a criminal has dendrophilia?’

‘They might like to perform their crimes outdoors in wooded areas, or bury victims under trees so they can revisit crime scenes and get off on the fact the trees are being sustained by a victim's decomposition. Or they might hide bodies in hollow trees, it would depend on an unsub’s preferences,’ she suggested, he could see she had a lot more to say, but she sat there, nervously looking at other students, as if prompting them to say something.

It was then Spencer placed her. He was right; she wasn't a current student. She had been in a few of his classes when he was teaching part time, two years ago. He couldn’t put a name to her face or much of her cohort to be honest. It bothered him. They had switched to online correspondence in the first semester of 2020. Only the first two classes with her cohort were in person, in which she had been silent. But, she should have graduated by now. Why was she here? Oh God, please not another auditor, he thought.

He cleared his throat, turned his attention back to the class. ‘Does anyone who's actually in this class have something to add?’ His gaze might as well have been poisoned the way some of the young students avoided it. ‘No? Okay, I know I blindsided you with that one, but, our guest is right. It may seem inconceivable to some of you that people would actually become aroused by trees, but in my experience paraphilia can be developed from anything and everything.’

He glanced back at her. Now she was clutching a canvas messenger bag tightly against her chest with one hand, and texting with the other. She obviously wasn’t here for the content or to audit him. So, he deduced that she was waiting for him to finish. He tried his best to continue as normal, now hoping that she wasn’t one of his fans that his lectures seemed to attract. ‘Now the assigned reading for next week will go further into how a paraphilia can be imprinted on a person, but I thought the basics of paraphilia would be an important background for the case study this week because it interacts with the stages of development and the importance of a love map. This is a case study from 1995…’

Spencer concluded the class five minutes early and packed up his things, warily glancing at her. The canvas messenger bag she had with her had a few pins on it for personalisation, but the way she gripped it so tight made him dread what was in it. She didn’t appear armed, but she seemed dressed in a way that would convey she was non threatening. It was not unusual, but it was certainly unique for a woman her age; a plain beige cardigan over a pale-floral-patterned collared blouse, navy culottes, and smart, vintage-style, leather loafers. Paired with her youthful hair style, it made him wary. It screamed sweet and innocent, like it was a purposeful statement. If she had consciously decided to dress that way, it was bad news for him.

As she stood, he observed she was on the tall side for a woman, at least 5'9 was his estimate from measuring her against the door frame. She smiled at the students file past her as she held the door open for them. She glanced at him expectantly as the last student left the hall. Suspicion turned to dread. He needed to go. He had no more classes for the day, but she wouldn’t know that. He power walked toward the door.

She smiled at him politely. ‘Dr Reid, I'll only need a few minutes of your time-’

‘I’m sorry. I have a class across the other side of the academy, I have to go, another time perhaps-’

‘Umm… No you don’t, it's Thursday,' she said with a chuckle.

He stilled. How would she know that? Had she been stalking him? His heart hammered, and he started to walk again, quickening his pace. He had to get to a populated area. Now.

‘Dr Reid?’ she called after him. Her shoes made no sound behind him. How was she so quiet for someone that tall? He glanced behind him to see she was two steps behind. ‘Dr Reid, I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn back there. Please, I just want to talk!’

‘I really must go.’

‘Okay, maybe we can sit down and have coffee some other time? I know you like a double espresso and double-choc-chip muffins. They're my favourite too, though I prefer tea.'

That chilled him to the bone. He began jogging. How long had she been watching him?

‘Doctor, where are you-’ He glanced back, and she was right there, her long legs striding to keep pace with him.

Oh God, she was chasing him. He didn’t have a gun right now. He didn’t carry one while he taught. This hall had cameras and hundreds of FBI cadets in classes behind doors right now. Would she really be that bold? He turned to face her. Perhaps he could reason his way out of this.

‘Look, this won’t end well for you. I don’t know what you think you can do to me, but there’s no way you can get away with anything here-’

‘What?’ She stepped back. Her eyes widened. ‘Oh no!’ She took another step back, ‘Oh no, no no… I’m not stalking you, I’m so sorry! Oh, the schedule and the muffin thing—God I must have come off so creepy, please don't freak out okay? I just… I’m so sorry,’ she fumbled out an apology. Her hand slowly went to the front pocket of her bag, but he didn't panic; the pocket was too small to hold a firearm. He kept his distance, ready to run if he needed to.

Her body language had changed completely. Before she seemed excited and nervous, but now she was utterly, and unmistakably, mortified. Spencer almost felt sorry for her.

‘I’m just grabbing my badge, sorry I-I tried calling to let you know I was coming, but Garcia said you were a technophobe, and I couldn’t wait for snail mail-’ He tilted his head, Garcia? ‘-she also told me your coffee preferences if I needed to bribe you… And I rang the criminology department secretary to see what your office hours were. Vivian, booked me an appointment in your calendar… but that… runs… on email… So you mustnt’ve seen it—you had no idea I was coming did you? God I was really early and weird… I-I- didn’t mean to scare you.’ She held out a familiar leather card holder to him. ‘I’m Special Agent Grace Matthews, I’m a profiler with your old unit, I’m new. I-I-we‘ve met before but, um… You might not remember me. Sorry I really wanted to meet you for a while now, I really admire you… and oh God this has gone so wrong… I am so sorry, I can come back later,’ she finished rambling and stood there, looking as if she wanted the earth to open up and swallow her.

It was like he was seeing himself at 22, struggling to fit in a crowd of suits and stern faces knowing full well that if it weren't for his intellect, he would not be there. He inspected her badge. He noted the birthdate of 12/25/1998. Considering it was a requirement that an applicant be 23 for admission to the bureau, and Grace was currently 24 and already a profiler, he suspected that she might have a similar skill set to him. He remembered both JJ and Garcia mentioned they had a new unit member earlier this year. He remembered JJ saying, “Oh Spence, you’d get on like a house on fire. Never met anyone else who could talk about cholera for 30 minutes, and then say they’re not an expert, they just dabble.”

Spencer offered her a smile. ‘Edward Leonski,’ he said.

‘Wha-Oh,’ she nodded sheepishly, ‘Yep, that was me. Eddie Leonski, “The Brownout Strangler”, I mean, I wasn’t the strangler… That was my final paper… you’d probably remember it cause of the spelling and grammar errors.’

‘No, I have an eidetic memory. I remember everyone’s term papers, but I remember yours particularly because I felt awful only being able to give you a distinction… because of the grammar and spelling mistakes. But the case you analysed, I’d never heard of before, which is always a welcome surprise. It gets a bit boring reading papers about the Zodiac, Bundy, Dhalmer over and over. But you chose a challenge, using original court transcripts, statements and archived letters as sources. And I agree with your theory that he was a narcissist with gynophobia, yet an erotic fascination with women's voices at the same time. The mimicry and self-soothing talk he practiced under stress was especially intriguing, and then added the element of the political tensions of the case. It was a really fascinating read. I had to look into it myself. I agree it is a shame that they declared him sane. There was a lot that was unique about his case that could have been learned if he wasn’t executed.’

‘I know right,’ she grinned. ‘But then again, Sanitariums in the 1940s are not something I would ever wish upon anyone.’

‘No, that’s true,’ he nodded.

Gone was the stuttering and fumbling. Good, he’d hoped a shared interest would make her more comfortable.

‘I'm sorry for scaring you Dr Reid, can I start again?’ she asked hopefully.

‘I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, and not checking my calendar—through my email? I didn’t even know that they were connected. So sure, we can start again, you apparently have an appointment. So good morning Agent Matthews, did you enjoy the lecture?’

‘I did enjoy the lecture, both times actually, but it’s way better in person. I had some spare time today, and I wanted to meet you cause I have some questions for you and… um some news, not official FBI business but, we might want to go somewhere that is not going to get flooded with students in about… Now.’ Doors to the other lecture halls opened and chatty students filled the hallway.

If he was honest with himself, he had nothing better to do today, and genuinely he missed having people he could enthuse with. Students were intimidated by him, most faculty members were solely academics and they often were disturbed by his anecdotes, and well auditors made him nervous. Not to mention Matthews’ suggestion of muffins had him hungry now.

‘You know what, I actually could really use a coffee. There is a van that parks close to the Eastside of the academy. Their muffins are usually fresh around now too.’

‘Awesome,’ her shoulders relaxed, and they began walking together through the crowd of students, ‘I’ll shout then, after the scare I gave you, I think it’s only fair.’

Next chapter

NOTES: I haven't marked this mature yet. not sure how it works cause it has been ages since I posted a fic on tumblr, have no idea how it's going to handle a criminal minds fic. But oh well.

ALSO GRACE AND REID ARE NOT GOING TO BE THE ROMANTIC FOR EACH OTHER. IN THE TAGS I TRIED TO MAKE THAT CLEAR BUT I KNOW SOME PEOPLE DON'T READ THEM…. but don't worry I have someone else in mind to pair Spencer with, and Grace might go a bit "Operation parent trap" style to get them together. Also Grace will get a love interest to… Hopefully though she won't be too much like Reid and end up with her very own Graeve.

With this fic, I think I'll put specific trigger warnings a the start of each chapter because I plan to have sort of breather chapter in between cases and each case will have a variety of different stuff depending on the unsub. I think I'll put specific trigger warnings a the start of each chapter because I plan to have sort of breather chapter in between cases and each case will have a a variety of different stuff depending on the unsub. These first few chapters are intended as a bit of fluff and an introduction to Grace. if you love it leave a comment, like it, reblog, ask a question, whatever, it is much appreciated and it really motivates me

[frosted-plasma]

what’s your thoughts on the Futurama revival

Anon I'm so sorry you're going to be victim to the longest post you will ever see. I hate it I hate it I hate it

HUGE /neg rant incoming (this show is my special interest and has been for YEARS. This will all be rambling)

THEY FUCKING COMPLETELY DISREGARDED "MEANWHILE." It directly contradicts it. "I offered to reset time to the moment before time stopped!" Okay, but you didn't though. The entire tragedy of the ending was that they'd be doomed to relive their lives from the moment they met (s1 e1) on loop. "Want to go around again?" Okay so that line doesn't make sense anymore!!! I had theories upon theories before the season came out and I was beyond disappointed. This show has shown it can do deep thought-out themes, I was fully hoping for them to show them reliving the past again, maybe its their 1,000th time reliving it, maybe Fry or Leela notices for once that something is familiar about it. Hell maybe there's a 1 in a million chance that they DON'T break the button! Free will and all, maybe things aren't 100% the same each run and they get lucky once. This also could have been used to recap old seasons for people who didn't rewatch them

They don't know how much time has passed?? I understand that was an excuse to make it the year 3023, but why would you do that? What's the point??

Things such as the Scary Door reboot don't make sense, not to mention the overuse of "haha it's a reboot!! Get it?? It's a reboot!! We got cancelled!!!" jokes but I'll get to that later. Timeline things just don't make sense anymore because of the time freeze. It's an awful awful awful writing choice. They unfroze time right where it paused, canonically, they show them unfreezing exactly there, it makes zero sense. How is there new technology and new TV shows when no time has passed. I'm ignoring that it's "10 years later" because it isn't, you can't just say that without showing it, it literally isn't

Even the smaller jokes feel very dragged out? Like Bender laughing at Fry setting a goal in episode one. He laughs and Leela smacks him, his head spins around and it's funny, then his body does an extra spin for no reason other than to emphasize that it's a joke? I guess? And then not even a minute later she slaps his hand again and it dramatically flies back and hits Zoidberg. Do you get what I'm saying? It's just too much focus on every single bit

I do like the updated intro! The added details to the city in the background is super super cool!! I love the thought they put into it (Bender hanging out of the ship on the magnet is a bit much considering all of the other references they included, but I'll let it slide. Just doesn't feel necessary to me in the intro)

The animation is rigged now:/ it's bound to happen nowadays, it just feels sad to look at for me (in general, not just with this show) the characters (ESPECIALLY Fry) feel very off model sometimes:(

Fry's hardly in the first episode. Odd writing choice considering he's the main character

Oh my GOD. The Hulu/reboot references. It's EXHAUSTING to watch. The amount of 2023 references they crammed into this season is physically painful, they drag them out for SO LONG

(in the first ep) the non-binary robots joke was funny and the scenes with Calculon and the Robot Devil were the only scenes that felt like old Futurama! Their voice acting was great and it was funny! The rest of the voice acting feels very lackluster and most of the other jokes just didn't get me

Calculon and the Robot Devil were the funniest characters, that's how dumbed down they made Bender, he's not my favorite that season

The plots are just. Bad. I hate to say it I really do. Shut up with the reboot jokes, the covid19 jokes, the only decent one was the bit mining episode because it actually used the idea as a real jumping off point and that episode still wasn't revolutionary. The other half of the episodes are pure callbacks. The one with Amy and Kifs kids was cute because it had a reason to exist! It wasn't a very funny episode but it was cute!! The other ones like the worm parasites in nibblers litter box (OR GOD FORBID THE ONE WHERE THE TIME MACHINE SHOWS UP OUT OF NOWHERE AGAIN WITH NO DRIVER??) make me MAD with how lazy of an excuse they are to cram in a reference without matching the rest of the lore

I'm fully assuming the reboot came from a place of love from the writers and the VAs but personally I didn't think the new season was very funny nor did it add anything new to the series, and it felt very very bland and dumbed down and I didn't even pay attention to the last few episodes because of it (that is saying something coming from me)

I rewatched the first episode for this so this is mainly talking about that one. Tell me if you want me to talk about the others I have so many thoughts this is me summarizing like all hell I hate the plots so much and this is my all time favorite show I'm still going to watch the next season and I still have high hopes for it

[tiarnanabhfainni]

i forgot you can't edit draft ask answers so i have to answer a photo sorry!

what are my opinions on it? i think it's excellent and i wish i could see it live (if someone knows a theatre where it's being staged let me know). mostly i like how deeply interested it is in language and in the dynamics of colonisation. im not necessarily a genius at literary analysis but here were the things that set my brain spinning. under the cut because this got long

1. Language

there are multiple languages at play here. all of the people of baile beag speak irish and only the master of the hedge school and his sons speak english. but hugh also knows greek and latin! his sons clearly also understand a great deal of latin. the infant prodigy is also fluent in classical greek and latin. many of the attendees at the hedge school also understand bits of latin, as far as i remember they all engage in hugh's call and response game. these are not stupid people, they are all clearly capable of engaging with other languages and understanding them. it's just that english is not one of those languages. meanwhile the soldiers are all monoglots who can only speak english. this is underlined by my one of my favourite exchanges in the play where jimmy asks "Nonne Latine loquitar?" and lancey responds "I do not speak Gaelic, sir." the soldier cannot communicate with the locals and they are viewed with suspicion. because the two groups cannot communicate with each other without an intermediary the tension build until it climaxes at the end of the play. i also think it's notable that the only soldier who does engage with the irish language is the only one who gets invited to the dance. it's also interesting that he's the one who's goes missing at the end.

2. Owen and Anglicisation

speaking of intermediaries, this brings us to the character of owen! there are three characters in this play who speak both english and irish fluently. hugh the schoolmaster, manus his son who assists him and owen, the son who left to work in dublin and seems to have been hired by the british army while he was there. he is such an interesting character as he seems to embody the process of anglicisation in the play. im going to get more into his role in expanding the themes of translation as a site of colonisation later but his main job seems to be assisting in anglicising the place names in the area. since he knows irish he can read out the names and give their literal translation so the soldiers know what their options are for changing them. but owen himself is literally anglicised! when they first arrive, both yolland and lancey refer to him as "roland" because they are unfamiliar with his actual name. and it reveals how little they know or respect him as a person (esp lancey). they can't even get his name right and they don't care to. the army has flattened him into the utilitarian role they need him for. which is owen is helping them to do with the place names! they are literally making an ordnance survey for military purposes. the old names are too difficult for soldiers to find their way around so they're changing them to make it easier. and they flatten them to this end. droim dubh literally means black ridge but it gets changed to drom duff which means... nothing. or bun na habhann (mouth of the river) becomes burnfoot which has no link to the actual location in question and mostly is chosen because it sounds nicer than banowen. there is an earlier conversation with his brother where own dismisses the changing of his name, saying "it's only a name. it's still the same me, isn't it?" which seems to the same thought process he goes through with these places. the place stays the same so who cares about the name? this argument is refuted by owen himself in the most significant moment of this scene: the conversation about tobair vree. owen is mostly defending himself here but there is the sense that he does care about the history of the area, that he does feel guilty about what he's doing. and that whole passage is a statement about what is happening. that this process of renaming is erasing a people, a memory, and a history. significantly, it is only after this outburst that he can correct yolland about his own name.

Translation

owen again, what a guy. anyway this play is deeply interested in how translation functions. it's not a purely negative portrayal, hugh's opening scenes are full of little translation games where he invites his students to translate his words back to him. he gives a latin word or phrase and so the whole room participates in this process of making meaning across languages. when jimmy is trying to get his point about athene across he translates portions of the odyssey to hugh, to include him in his reading, to let him understand what is being said. he calls her "the flashing-eyed Athene". translation can be inclusive here. but when owen is asked to translate lancey's words to the students in the hedge school, there is another side of translation. the sharp edge of the blade if you will. he softens lancey's words, he omits information about the military nature of the project, he mistranslates. this is pointed out to him by his brother manus but he shakes it off with some off the cuff quote about uncertain and incipient meaning. the intent of the translator really does matter.

im tired so im gonna stop here but i have so many more thoughts that i could keep going with: yolland' imperial family and how he can't escape that baggage even though he tries, lancey threatening the community with yolland as an excuse, manus' disdain for english and how he literally flees to an irish-speaking island, the new national school and how everyone will speak english (attendance mandatory), hugh not being chosen as schoolmaster, maire viewing english as a way to get out and advance socially, the heartbreaking passage about norfolk and where yolland is from, yolland's own disappearance as a symbol for the souring relations between the army as an enforcer of empire and the locals, the donnelly twins hanging like the sword of damocles over the play, the death of the baby, things that were jokes at the start of the play being deadly serious at the end, hugh always forgetting his third point just like the play leaves so many threads hanging at the end, etc. etc.

[a-d-nox]

Hi, I'm new at learning about asteroids and I stumbled across this one : Frigg (77).

I heard it's related to how your partner treats you or loves you, relationship related things.

Mine's in Libra in the twelfth house sextile Mercury, any idea what it could mean?

frigg, goddess of fertility and motherhood (asteroid 77)

frigg and freya are often confused between one another (i believe it was proto-germanic language that cause the distinction between the two to be so confusing and caused the two to merge in myth) people tend to argue one has dominance over the domains of love, fertility, friday, etc. to keep it straight, I PERSONALLY, will state that on my page frigg will be the mother (her husband, odin, is the all father), friday, and dedication (wifely and sexually conservative) meanwhile freya will be beauty, love (often more sexually indulgent), and war. and both will be representations of fertility and divination. i believe you are describing more so freya (76) than frigg (77). let me know in the comments if you still feel interested in understanding your placement after reading frigg's myth and my interpretation. if you are interested in a freya post please use my "ask me anything" button and request her!

on to the myth of frigg.

Frigg is Odin's wife and the queen of the Aesir. There are very few primary sources that define her characteristics or her status beyond her relationship to her husband and children. The worship of Frigg was namely fertility, marriage, home, wisdom, and most things wife-related (again, i would like to blame christianity for rewriting myths because Frigg likely was much more than just a wife and homemaker but there is such little to go off of now aside from someone who has grown up in the culture (which i am not that someone)). The few sources she appears in present her as a pacifist and gentle woman. In "Lokasenna", Loki says terrible things about Frigg and Freya tells Loki to stop because Frigg has the ability to use seidr on him. Seidr is the power to work with fate in the universe and change it. In the Norse tradition, this is a facet of magic associated with a völva - a partially closed practice of witchcraft (you need to be devoted and trained by another pre-existing völva). Frigg's gifts are seen as powerful: shape changing, fate spinning (she is even referred to as The Spinner), prophecy, rune casting, etc. and she never appears to use them to cause harm. Her power is most prevalently seen in Prose Edda in which she does everything in her power to protect Baldur. She made fire, water, earth, trees, sickness, animals, venom, metal, etc. swear to not harm Baldur. Of course, Loki found a loophole in all this. Upon his death, Frigg convinces Hermod to travel to Hel and bring Baldur back - sadly, Hel did not allow it. IN MY OPINION Frigga in your chart represents a) your relationship with your family unit and who you would do anything for, b) where you use your powers in a caring manner, c) where you can change your fate, and d) where you have the power to make others respect your wishes and fulfill their promises.

i encourage you to look into the aspects of frigga along with the sign, degree, and house placement. for the more advanced astrologers, take a look at the persona chart of frigga AND/OR add the other characters involved to see how they support or impede frigga!

OTHER RELATED ASTEROIDS: loke (4862), odin (3989), wodan (2155), baldur (4059), freia (76), hel (949), hela (699), and hermod (2630)!

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my “suggest a post topic” button if you want to see a specific post or mythical asteroid next!

click here for the masterlist

click here for more norse myths & legends

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

[chaifootsteps]

I don’t know if it’s me, but I just think Octavia is going to be an unintentional tragic character if anything that later half of season two suggests.

I remember asking myself two days before the latest episode aired, “wouldn’t Stella know that everything would go to Via?” Then low and behold her brother has to point that out to her. Then starts scheming to manipulate Via because they think she’s a gateway to getting the riches.

Like, the thing that majorly ticks me off is wouldn’t Stella know that? She’s been raising her with Stolas. Why does need to be told this if initially this arranged marriage also included a precautionary heir. There is nothing to say she wouldn’t know that.

Back to Via, her parents—well mostly Stella—but that could because Viv doesn’t want her interacting with her own daughter until they need to for Stolas reasons—refers to her as an “egg” and seemingly forgets she’s Stolas’ heir should he die. Meanwhile as Stolas is making his points, he calls Octavia “that girl” which is…I get they wanted to prove that he may not want to become like his father and wanted to give her a happy childhood, but dude why can’t you say daughter? I don’t know if Viv wants to even commit to this precautionary heir stuff because half the time they keep making Via repeat the same arc which eventually go on three times now.

Like, one of the reasons why parents who may not love each other would still want to stay for the kid which is real, and if they really wanted to commit to the precautionary heir stuff, maybe make Stella want to ask where the Grimoire is and needing to feel like “we have to keep this deal that we both don’t want to do, but our society has rules we must play apart of” and Stolas being torn with wanting to give Via a happy childhood but also knowing that the deal still exists so that just starts the further deterioration of the marriage between him and Stella. Maybe if in the S2 E1 flashbacks it could slowly show him becoming more withdrawn from them if they say he’s tired of it. The ideas from the first episode can work, but it focuses too much on retconning Stolas and Blitz characters that it should’ve focused on how his relationship with Stella deteriorated because neither of them want to be here and would play more into the nobility of the Goetia if that is slowly taking the driving force for the family.

If Via feels guilty of her birth, it could make become more isolated and depressed. The kid would feel guilt if they were the active cause of the pain if that is what the writers are attempting to imply but only loosely using the pieces that there and trying to spin it by making us feel more sad for the Dad than the daughter who is scared of being abandoned, thinking she isn’t wanted and apparently planning to guilt trip her even more.

I am with in being scared of them possibly turning the audience against Via instead of sympathizing with her. People either already understand where Stolas is coming from in S2 E2, which is fair, we don’t want invalidate victims of spousal abuse, but if they do it a third time then the writers run the risk of making the audience think Via is selfish or something. Or probably those who would blame Stella more whichever comes first.

Sorry for the ramble.

Nah, rambles are always welcome, we love rambles around here. And this was a great one!

Stolas, Stella, and Octavia are frustrating because all three are in an immensely shitty situation put together by forces outside of their control. None of them are handling it well, but Via's got the excuse of being a child caught between two deeply unhappy parents. There's so much potential there, so much to explore, and Vivzie and Brandon won't because that would involve holding Stolas accountable for literally any wrongdoing. It would involve letting Via be the bigger victim here, and we can't have that, can we?

[somethingimworkingon]

How to save your brain from being eaten by AI (maybe): keep a sketchbook

At the beginning of May I started bookmarking photographers who are using AI in interesting ways, to add to my Instagram collection of digital art references (#artdirectionneversleeps). Later that month I did my own first experiments using NightCafe to visualise ideas for a client. It was entertaining and frustrating, partly because of my lack of prompt skills, and partly because the "styles" you could apply to your "artwork" looked exactly like bad fantasy art from the 1980s.

However, by June, photographers I was working with were using Midjourney to conceptualise setups – still with a bit of that tacky SciFi book cover feel, but it was proving genuinely useful to talk about how sets might be designed, for instance. By July, I was seeing film directors use AI for pitching storyboards, and my lovely students at Condé Nast College of Fashion and Design using it for presentation mock-ups.

That's just three months. From AI being a "what?" to becoming a completely logical, natural part of the image-making process, for at least some parts of the creative industries. The speed of change is head-spinning. And this is just the beginning.

Meanwhile, also in May, I was teaching at CNC on a really fun module about Brand Identity Design. Part of this involved the students keeping a sketchbook, to explore and develop their ideas. One of my lectures was about WHY people keep sketchbooks, and I illustrated several points with quotes from designers, architects and artists, and pages from my own sketchbooks from waaaaay back in the day.

Because WBITD, when I was an art student, I kept sketchbooks constantly. Not only was it a course requirement, for me it was also a way to stave off boredom and depression: it's hard to think negative thoughts when your brain is absorbed in analysing the curves of a hand or a coffee cup or a flower. When my best friend and I used to Interrail around Italy, I would draw our cafe tables and the local streets, and we'd get rewarded with extra drinks and desserts by kindly waiters.

Somewhere around the mid 90s I gave up sketching, partly because life got more hectic, and partly because smartphones got invented. When Emma and I started the BID course this summer, it had been a very long time indeed since I cracked open a sketchbook. And, erm, even though I did buy one – a lovely, spiral-bound, hard covered book with wonderful heavyweight paper, from Seawhite of Brighton – it took me another few months to start using it.

Two things pushed me into finally starting: firstly, it's #drawugst and I thought I should try a drawing a day, every day, during August. I started on Tuesday, August 1st, with a graphite pencil sketch of my aloe plant. I did it in semi-darkness, around 9pm, and my hand-eye coordination felt a but rusty, but following the heavy curves of the plant was satisfying.

On Wednesday I drew fallen agapanthus blossoms, playing with coloured marker pens (of which I have a ridiculously huge collection, almost never used). This was a reminder of the importance of not trying to control the end result while you're sketching. Because you just can't.

Yesterday evening I scribbled our messy after-dinner table. I used the graphite pencil, a Koh-I-Noor Hardtmuth charcoal pencil, and an Edding 1225 calligraphy pen – and blackberries. The fruit, not the redundant communication device. Blackberry juice is a fabulous art material – it gives this beautiful purple inky result, and it's such a pleasure to smear all over the paper. I'd picked the berries earlier this evening on Wormwood Scrubs, just to add to the satisfaction of the whole experience. (And this morning I made almond milk smoothies with the rest of them.)

The other thing which made me finally restart a sketchbook after all this time is AI. I can see that it is just going to get bigger, more powerful, and more indispensable in my industry. I'm not going to worry about losing my job to a bot (I don't have "a job", anyhow), but I am concerned about what it will do to our creativity.

When you use one tool extensively it starts to train your brain, you develop habits and shortcuts. It's one thing to have tricks for making the most of Photoshop, or to have routines when you set up an InDesign document. But when you're trying to generate ideas you need to keep an open mind. To look at things from different angles. To look again, look harder. Try wacky ideas. Draw with your food. Stick things onto the pages. Doodle. Take a line for a walk. Write notes to self. Be creative. Be messy. Be human.

[devintrinidad]

YEAH!! Reducing characters to one aspect of their personality upsets me a lot!! It feels like they become tropes instead of characters and it makes all the dynamics really boring. Just because she has difficulties in her work life doesn't mean she'd struggle in other aspects of life too! I know it's common to have protagonists with "strong will" but it really works for her otherwise she would have given up a long time ago.

Meanwhile U-1146 has always excelled in his worklife (if it's wrong please let me know as I haven't read the manga), But relationships are a whole different territory for him and something he never expected to have. And having ae-3803 guide him through it would be 1) absolutely ADORABLE, 2) Really good for him to feel taken care off and get to actually *relax*, and for her to let herself out in her area of expertise (emotions)

Also another reason I think he is charmed by her determination is since he is talented at his job, he never had to work really hard to get good. Of course he had to work hard and fail plenty of times, but he never had to go the extra mile to simple probe himself (again lmk if I'm wrong!). And so he finds her determination admirable because he is thinking "wow. She goes through a lot yet never falters despite what anyone says. I would have given up a long time ago", at least that's what he believes.

NsshqjdhwAhs I just love the "I love my beautiful wife" guys he is so shy and madly in love it's ADORABLE. The first time she invites him to small spoon, I think he would instantly melt bc he never realized how much he likes *this*. I'd even argue he instantly falls asleep LMAO (and she takes 30 pics of it ofc)

Yeah, I absolutely hate it when characters become a husk of their former selves. I think that it's always best to refer to canon material in terms of characterization, but I always try to put a little spin on it to make sure that it's in my style. :D

But yeah, I think it's implied that 1146 has pretty much excelled in many aspects of his professional life (there hasn't been any evidence stating otherwise, but it's been a while). Romantic relationships across different cells probably isn't forbidden, but I imagine that as a member of the white blood cells, 1146 and his fellow neutrophils don't get exposed to other cell types, be it platonic or romantic. It would be more plausible if he were to fall for someone who is also an immune cell like him, but I would suppose that he would also fall flat on his face no matter the cell type!

I absolutely adore 3803 because she represents who I want to be as a person. Cheerful, dedicated, but always determined to do better and improve herself! At the very end of Main, she is the one taking the reigns against the pathogens and instilling hope in her fellow coworkers and 1146 that all is not lost! (Been a while, but I think that was the gist of it).

Maybe 3803 dated or flirted with a few other cells beforehand, so she's all too aware of first date jitters and the exhilaration of puppy crushes and young love, but with 1146 she's experiencing it all over again, but this time, she's the one who will hold his hand and catch him if he falls. It probably makes her feel wanted in the best way possible and she's eager to make sure that their romantic (or platonic) relationship with each other remains a positive thing that will last until the end of their lives.

"Also another reason I think he is charmed by her determination is since he is talented at his job, he never had to work really hard to get good. Of course he had to work hard and fail plenty of times, but he never had to go the extra mile to simple probe himself (again lmk if I'm wrong!)."--> MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY. He's at first intrigued by her and a little in awe at her innocence at the start of the series (considering that there are trillions of cells, how are they going to meet again??? Yet, they do keep seeing each other and it validates 3803's hope and trust that everything will turn out great, especially when she trains and improves herself, and that makes 1146 see that there's more to life than just living his role as an immune cell!). Gosh, their dynamic just makes me want to squeeze them tight together! :D

HE IS THE ABSOLUTE WIFE GUY And he means it with his entire heart!

3803 is the big spoon and he realizes that he's so much warmer now (it coud be the blush on his face, but he'll never tell) and softer (definitely softer because the barracks can't possibly be too comfortable!) that he does melt into her embrace!

3803 does take photos (and keeps a select few as her lockscreen) and she lets the rest of the WBC squad peek at it. The WBC tease 1146 for it, but they are secretly so happy that their leader has someone who will make him feel so safe and loved that he just immediately melts.

(Let's just hope Dendritic Cell doesn't accidentally take a peek at those pictures because he might try to bribe 3803 for a few of them)

Thank you so much for the great analysis of 1146 and 3803's relationship! A gem to read and a sight to behold!

Thanks again and as always, I hope that you have a wonderful day! :D

[vampiresuns]

As They Covered The Sun With Swords They Had Bloodied, I Found Your Eyes Like A Worship Song of Old (Part 2)

A Tamnana centric spin-off to @ilyamatic​'s pirate au. Tamryn & the Olenevs belong to @valhallanrose​.

You can find Part 1 here.

Series Summary: 16k words. Set during the first decades of the XVIII century, Aelius Anatole, or Inti Ankuwilla, as history might or might not remember him, meets a certain Tamryn Olenev when his family relocates from Poland to Venice. In meeting each other and falling for each other, the two of them will discover a kingdom of their own, where they can figure out what it is to exist despite all odds telling you not to.

Part 2: 6k words. After sharing a furtive kiss on a deserted alleyway in Venice, Anatole’s job catches up to them. With the promise of returning, Anatole sets off to the Caribbean and upon his return, he decides to face Tamryn’s parents before confessing his feelings to him. Meanwhile, Tamryn frets, prays and finds a strange form on solidarity in Milenko.

Content warnings: Minors DNI. This is a piece of historical fiction set in the early XVIII century, during the golden age of piracy. As such it may contain depictions, allusions and episodes of racism towards black and indigenous peoples, anti-semitism, islamophobia, and LGBTQ people, as well as legitimate aspects of colonial violence.

Footnotes can be found at the end of the piece if applicable. Check part 1 for the main references and background research used for this piece.

Late at night, Tamryn had been going over the same detail of his project over, and over again.

“Alright honey, I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” Evalina said.

Tamryn kept going over his project.

“Tamryn.”

His mother called his name again: “Tamryn.”

Only when she gently shook his shoulder, he realised she was talking to him.

Tamryn grew more and more distracted as days passed. Half agony, half hope, altogether dreading Anatole might regret what he did. He knew he had held his hand, he could still hear him promising he would come back but that wasn’t enough to calm his fears, especially when the fear of him changing his mind about him hid a fear much, much worse: that Anatole might not come back.

Tamryn hadn’t told his family what had happened between him and Anatole yet. Part of him wanted to, longing the familiar feeling of crying to his parents (as he had the honour to have good parents who understood him) and them comforting him about it. He could almost hear their voices telling him it would be just fine, he just had to be patient. For his own reasons he had opted not to say a thing yet, at least not to them.

His gut twisted at the idea it might end up in nothing, having a kiss under the golden light of the early evening to haunt him for the rest of his life. Tamryn didn’t know if he could forget that kiss, let alone the man who delivered it.

To no avail, he wondered often what Anatole must be doing. News of him was scarce. The Olenevs didn’t know a lot of details about what the Cassano did exactly. A House of accountants, some public servants, some scholars, musicians, artists, people of science, printers; at least on the outside. Eccentric as they were, they were good people. They also knew that was not all there was to them.

They helped people they knew as much, that’s how they have come to know them: another family that needed to make haste to leave Kraków, also for their own security and wellbeing, had been helped by the Cassano before. They knew their methods weren’t particularly straightforward, nor orthodox, but they got things done. Tamryn didn’t doubt Anatole was helping people, but ignorance wasn’t bliss, it was a torment.

The Cassano were also extremely private. During the five months Anatole was away, Tamryn learnt it was less due to mistrust (even if that was a considerable element) and more due to protection of their clients, closest friends, associates and collaborators.

Some of their clients were easy to locate and identify. The Cassano ran their business and lent their service with a public facade of acceptability and exceptional skill at plausible deniability. Plenty of people required help keeping account of their affairs for which they felt professional help was better than house servants.

Yet, Tamryn and his family had learnt that their most important clients had, for all effects and purposes, no names: they kept their identities with an iron grip. Even Anatole’s father, who liked to bounce ideas back and forth with Evalina on his own blueprints, never made explicit what they were for, if they were commissions or just silly drawings he indulged himself with. Nor did Anatole’s mother, Qhispi Sisa. She often talked about approaches to medicine with his father and Zelda, but now that Tamryn thought about it, she had never said what she used it for, nor who, beyond their usual house visits.

Tamryn had always missed Anatole when he was away, but at least the other times there had been letters. On this occasion there was none. Not even a note. He had tried to ask Amparo one day, when she came to see Zelda, only to be met with a gentle refusal to answer questions about her cousin, which differed from Amparo’s purposeful reluctance to explain herself.

Milenko was no different. Tamryn knew him and Anatole had been abroad together more than once during these last two years, so perhaps he would spare details about Anatole’s business. It wasn’t that Tamryn didn’t respect his privacy, it wasn’t that he didn’t understand Anatole not giving him information yet was a way to keep him safe (the thought that Anatole was taking care of him, no matter the distance, made him feel dizzy), but he just wanted something to hold onto. Some indication that he might be alright.

When he mustered the courage to ask him, Milenko knew what Tamryn would say before he even said it. “You’re in love. Nothing I say will ease your heart, Tamryn. You will worry anyway.”

“But you’ve been with him, while working.”

“Nothing that I say about myself in that regard will ease your heart either. Let it float away in the water. I like to think it carries my prayers so he is safe. There is life in water, Yhwh is the water.

“I know what it’s like when the heart misses the name spoken for it,” Milenko paused, taking just a little pity on him. He sighed. “Alright, it’s not news, precisely, but are you familiar with Rabbi Al-Harizi?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Suspected as much,” Milenko said with warmth and an audible smile. “Part of my family lived in Spain before we were driven away from it. My nono’s family went there all the way from Aksum and Ethiopia; but mi vava’s family was from the peninsula, but you know what happened there. As it may, Al-Harizi could have some verses which you might appreciate. Would you like to borrow the book so someone else might read it for you?”

“I don’t mind if you do”

Milenko thanked him, and read:

If the son of ‘Amram had seen the face of my beloved, his ringlets, and his gloriously beautiful face blushing whilst imbibing alcohol, he would not have written in his Torah, “…and with a man”(1)

Tamryn would feel his face heat up. “I don’t think that helps. At all.”

Milenko took his hands in his, laughing as he squeezed them. “Be thankful I’m not pulling out The Conference of Birds or any Attar at all.”

“You’re worse than Amparo.”

“Believe me I am not, but What do all seek so earnestly? 'Tis Love. / What do they whisper to each other? Love. / Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts. / In Love no longer "thou" and "I" exist, / For Self has passed away in the Beloved!” (2)

All he could do for Anatole was to include him in his prayers. So Tamryn prayed for him, for his safe return, for more time. That Anatole may come back and kiss him again, or if not, at least that they could talk about it. Every time he said his name Tamryn felt the ghost of Anatole’s lips against his own. He hoped that too was a prayer. A prayer crowned with the sentiment that anything was worth it if it was for love, like his father said.

He should’ve expected Zelda noticing the way he muttered Anatole’s name between his prayers.

“That’s the third time you mention him. Did something happen? You look more lost than usual even since he left.”

“Hey.”

“I know you care about him, I just want to make sure you’re alright, and you’re not keeping anything inside that dumb big heart of yours, when it should be said out loud.”

His mouth became a waterfall of words. He had never been good at keeping things from his family, but he had always been notoriously bad at keeping them from Zelda.

* * *

Somewhere in the Atlantic ocean, Decimo Lemione’s body sunk and rotted in the water, his skull shattered with several pistol shots.

Anatole didn’t think he ought to be pitied. Yes, the ocean was big, but he wouldn’t be alone: he would have half his family to make him company.

* * *

Andrico was late. Of course he was late. Anatole had no time to waste. He needed to find the papers from the Casa de Contratación and get the fuck out of there. Decimo might have been dead, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still be ambushed.

He heard someone approach the room.

“Oh, you’re not who I’m expecting.”

Anatole hated when things got violent for no reason (“It was just a little trespassing,” he muttered to himself after the second, third guard had come to check why the first, then second, person who had come to check on this room wasn’t returning). He hated it as much as he hated being inconvenienced. Only the fourth guard recognised him, but he was dealt with before he finished saying his name.

“Very rude, I am trying to keep a semblance of privacy—” a fifth person came in. “Oh, where the fuck is Andrico.”

He showed up 15 minutes after the fifth, and hopefully last guard had been dealt with, coming into the room with Jean-Marc, his Quartermaster, when Anatole was finding something to clean his sword, Dawn Piercer, with.

Anatole shot him a murderous look. “Glad to see the Solanaise II is sailing again, glad to see you’re in one piece. Far less glad to see you’re fucking late, El-Saieh. I’ve been waiting here for forty-five minutes.”

“Forty-five,” he repeated, hissing through his teeth.

“What are you doing here? I’m supposed to meet— No. You’re my accountant?”

“For someone who had the audacity to be three-quarters of an hour late, you have no right to be that irritated.” Anatole turned to Jean-Marc, walking over a dead body to hug him. “Marco! You, however, I am glad to see.”

Jean-Marc whistled. “I always knew you’d be one to watch out for.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, but thank you.”

“So Zia Solange didn’t tell him?”

“She sure fucking didn’t.”

Anatole snorted, not even trying to hide how amused he was. Still, he was a professional, and the sooner he was done with this, the sooner he went over the Solanaise II’s accounts and routes, the sooner he could go back to Venice.

 “Look, Andrico I know last time we saw each other we didn’t part on the best of terms, but this is different. You know it is. I am willing to set that aside for the sake of the contract, if that’s alright with you. My plan is to keep you alive for long enough, and I don’t think Solange asked for me to see your accounts only to piss you off.”

“Put what aside?” Drico asked, cocking his head to the side, in the same way Anatole’s dogs did. “I apologised for that! You’re the one who hasn’t accepted my apology for offering you friendship—”

Anatole sighed. “You’re worse than dealing with Christians.”

“Excuse me.”

Jean-Marc pinched the bridge of the nose. “Andrico, Anatole, the contract.”

“He called me worse than a Christian!”

“And I’m going to call you something even worse if you keep making me waste my time where we could be easily ambushed. Again.”

Andrico eyed the dead people, then Anatole. In many ways, before him stood someone he had known forever; in many ways, before him stood someone he had never met before. “You changed.”

“If you say so.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Andrico, the contract.”

He grabbed Anatole’s hand and shook it, despite feeling like somehow this would come back to bite him on the ass. “Deal.”

“Excellent! First of all, as your accountant,” Anatole said with something akin to murderous politeness, “next time you’re this late, or late in any unjustifiable manner whatsoever, I’ll feed you to the Mami Wata myself. Second of all, I found the papers from the Casa de Contratación and I have this,” Anatole showed them a signet ring. “It's only a matter of leaving it in the right place now and to get out of here. And thank all Gods-I-don’t-have-contempt-for that you brought Marco with you. I know you’re terrible with accounts when you’re in a sulky mood.”

“I’m not sulking.”

Jean-Marc groaned.

Once they were back at the Cassano’s safe-house, while Andrico was too busy proving him right by being taciturn and ill-tempered about his circumstances, Jean-Marc made conversation with Anatole. He told Anatole about his travels, and Anatole told him about his. The sooner he was done here, he had said, the quicker he could go back.

“So soon?”

“I left some, hm, business unfinished, and I want to be done with that before I come back in a more permanent fashion.”

“I see. With this business you mention, that is. Or alone?”

Anatole smiled at him and told him nothing. 

* * *

It had been five months and a couple of weeks since he had last seen Tamryn, five months and a couple weeks since he had kissed him. Hadn’t it been because he wanted to wash his hair properly before he drove himself crazy and speak with his parents about what he was about to do, Anatole would’ve docked off in Venice and gone straight towards the Olenevs’ house.

His lips had haunted his every hour, as if the kiss itself had been as long as his exile. Yet, if the desire to see him again had pushed him forward, now that he was in the same place as him, his heart threatened to escape his chest through his mouth out of nerves alone.

What if he was angry at him for not writing? What if he had changed his mind? What if Evalina and Galen didn’t approve of him like this? Anatole thought they did, they both seemed to be both aware and protective of both Tamryn’s and Zelda’s choices in companions, as long as they were good for them.

It didn’t matter. All the reasons he had used to give himself hope and grit when he was away, all the beautiful things in nature, in his quarters,  in the island, in people; all those beautiful details  that he longed to show and tell Tamryn about were whisked away, as if they were trunks he had left on the ship and only now realised so.

The idea of being rejected made him physically ill. He knew his skin was intact, but he felt it crawl out of his body. Anatole hated this feeling. He hated how, despite feeling it all of his life, he still couldn’t get used to it, nor stop it, nor anticipate it. He had been learning, slowly, how to deal with it, but it made him overwhelmed and queasy.

The feeling itself had nothing to do with Tamryn and everything to do with Anatole’s mind. His mind has never known how to stop thinking, how to stop doing things, how to stop bouncing off the walls and digging his claws into certain things. For good or for evil.

He made a whining noise. His three dogs, three pomeranians he had “borrowed'' during one of his working seasons a couple of years ago named Duke, Zapa and Astrid, echoed it. His mapachitli tried to climb him, which Anatole had to stop by holding him in his arms, lest he damaged the fabric of his favourite suit.

Some of the people who had tried to capture Andrico (hired swords, privateers, bastards overall) when he was waiting for the latter had him in a miniscule pen. Before leaving, Anatole had released it, but it refused to go back to the wild, following Anatole instead. No matter how many times he tried to release it, the mapachitli came back.

The witty little thing even followed him to the ship. Anatole did the only thing he could think of: washing him, drying him, and taking care of it.

Now it was there, between his arms as Anatole was on the brink of a nervous breakdown. “I’m going to die.”

“No you’re not, Inti,” his father said as he kissed his brow.

“I am.”

“You are,” his mother said as she also gave him a kiss, “but not now. It will be alright, and we’ll be right behind you. Are you taking the dogs?”

“I think it’s more of a matter of the dogs not letting me get out of their sight.” 

If it weren’t because his grit and determination were stronger than his nerves, he would’ve never made it out of the house. He looked at himself in the nearest mirror one last time: instead of his usual working attire of boots, fitted trousers with buttons to secure the waist-band, a shirt and perhaps a cravat that had been embroidered by his mother, he opted for one of his more formal suits. A fitted coat that reached his knees over a vest, a carefully crafted white shirt with lace details. While he still wore fitted trousers that reached his calves (mostly because he hated the feel of breeches’ clasps around his legs), he opted for dress shoes.

He pressed his coat against his skin, where the inner breast pocket should be. Right, he could do this.

He still wanted to vomit, but it was better to do things while his bones threatened to vibrate out of his flesh than not do them at all. 

* * *

Evalina and Galen greeted Anatole in their foyer, exchanging pleasantries and asking him about his journey: if it had been good, if he was in good health, if the weather was agreeable for sea-travel  and if his nondescript obligations had been alright.

As he did every time he stepped inside their home, Anatole left his cane —the one that had a stiletto rapier inside— by the door. The Olenevs already knew his dogs, the three of them trained enough to be decent guests and not to bark at Pomarańczowy, Evalina’s cat. The mapachitli had stayed back home. It was too small still to roam by the dogs, and in case of an emergency, Anatole needed to be able to manoeuvre a sword.

Sometimes he thought paranoia and overthinking would kill him, but they hadn’t yet. He supposed there was something auspicious about that.

Evalina and Galen had never seen him like this. He looked pale, despite clearly having acquired a slight tan that made his skin deeper and more freckles when oversea. He was shaking and spoke in circles, with a nervous verbosity they had never witnessed in him. They had heard him talk to his heart's content about things he was passionate about, but the way he spoke in the throes of academic passion was not the way he was speaking himself into a spiral now.

“If you came for Tamryn, I’m afraid he’s not home, but you’re always welcome to wait with us.”

“It’s not Tamryn who I want to see,” he said, fidgeting with his own hands. “I mean I do, I just mean right now, as in right-now-immediately.” He sat down, he sat up, he circled one of their sofas, he sat back in it by swinging his legs over the back of it. “I,” he paused, exhaling a nervous breath, “I need to speak to you both, as a matter of fact.”

Galen and Evalina exchanged a look between each other that, in itself, was an entire conversation, in the way only people who had been together for years could. Evalina offered him tea, hoping it will give him pause so he may speak freely, saying they will be happy to hear what he has to say.

Galen, however, offered him a light teasing smile. “Oh no,” he said, “I wonder what it is.”

Evalina whacked his arm, chastising him in Yiddish. Anatole didn’t speak the language very well yet, so he only understood something along the lines of “tea”, “offer”, and “tease him”.

In the time he was away he had prepared a speech in his head. He had even written it down, afraid his mind would consume itself with something else and he would forget it. He brought it out of one of his inner pockets, only to fold and unfold the parchment as he read none of its contents.

The only thing he managed to say before crying was “I”.

This is it, I have ruined all my chances for not being able to be better, as I know I ought to be, he thought, forgetting his hosts felt nothing but kindness for him. How could they not when he was so caring of their son.

Galen brought tea, which Anatole tried to drink but one of his dogs had made it to his lap.

“No, Astrid, get down.”

Impervious to her human, she tried to lick his tears.

“We’ve never asked, what kind of dogs are they?” Galen asked, offering him a reassuring smile, hoping speaking about something else would help him calm his nerves.

Anatole managed to wrangle Astrid down, but now he couldn’t stand up as all three of his dogs decided to perch themselves against his legs, trying to comfort him. He appreciated the change of topic as he, shakily, took the cup of tea.

“We know you only like spiced tea.”

“Thank you,” he sniffled. “I’m sorry. They’re pomeranians.”

Evalina and Galen both raised a curious, alert eyebrow. “You mean Polish spitzes? Those Pomeranians?”

“Yes.”

“How did you even manage to get a hand on three of them?”

“If I want to be completely honest, I stole them,” he laughed. Before his nerves could undermine him any further, he stopped himself from thinking the watery chuckle sounded pathetic. He was trying his best. He wasn’t pathetic. He was brave and strong, and he was around people whom he trusted.

With slow breaths, he calmed down somewhat and took a tiny sip of tea. “In truth, I don’t think certain types of people deserve good things… but I didn’t come here to talk about my job, or my political opinions, at least not just yet.”

At the same time as Galen told him he could take his time, Antole said: “I’m in love with Tamryn.”

Silence fell on the room.

“So tell him that?” Evalina said, tentatively. Anatole stared at her as if she had begun speaking in tongues.

“That’s not the point, though. I mean, I do plan to ask him to m—, rather, I mean, tell him, if that’s okay with you. Please do let me finish before I ruin the impression you have of me again. I want to ask him but I refuse to ask him before I talk to the two of you, no matter if I cry or if my voice shakes. As long as you allow me the audience I need to speak to you before I do that.

“I don’t think there’s more important people in this world, to Tamryn, than his family and his community. Even if I didn’t know Tamryn as I do, I would know how important community is for you, not because it is also important for me and the likes of me, but because I see it in Milenko and Zia Aurora and her siblings. The Tesfaye are nothing without their community.

“My job is dangerous, my job involves travelling at sea back and forth. I will tell Tamryn, but you must know first: my family does a lot of things, but our most important guild is not the ones we make public, but those which we don’t speak of. We administrate and protect several pirate communities. These pirate communities actively sabotage Imperial ships. It matters not the empire: what matters is this. Justice.

“Conquistadores take African peoples from their land and lives, in vile kidnapping as if they didn’t deserve their freedom. They take our lands and exploit our people to die in mines like Minas Gerais and Potosí and Nueva España, like we were nothing but things to be crushed under their ambition and their cruelty. Things to be re-educated, when what they mean is ‘eliminated’.

“We refuse to let that stand. I refuse to let that stand. This is not something I will stop doing and you have to know it because I do not love Tamryn to leave him here while I have a life away from him. I want him to occupy every waking thought I have and share with him every waking hour. I want to live with him and love him as if he were my husband. I know you suspect I rather entertain men, and everything I have seen in you makes me think you also know it about Tamryn.

“Not only that but I can tell you respect it, that you even protect it, instead of pushing him into a union with a woman that would’ve made him unhappy or unfulfilled, not because there was something wrong with the woman in question but because he did not like women. If I could, were I allowed to exist and love as a man and to marry other men, I would’ve come here today to ask your son’s hand in marriage, hoping toI propose to him and that he said to me: ‘yes’.

“But,” his voice shook again, yet he kept on going forward, “I cannot. Not because of lack of wanting, not for lack of the most profound love I have ever felt for someone. But despite all my fears, nerves, overthinking or doubts, I am yet to find something I allow these people, who think they know anything about people like us when they do not, to rule over my life. So I ask, because I love him more than I have ever loved any other man, and I plan to love him from this day forward for as long as he has me, as long as he has me.

“I cannot swear or promise this on the same grounds of your faith in your God, not because it’s a problem to me, but because you see me as I am. I am a half Quechua man, and I please ask you to understand I want no religion to claim me, because the one which could’ve was taken from me when my mother was severed from her own people. Perhaps even before.

“But I will do whatever I must that I’m either allowed or obliged to do under it as long as it is custom, so I can show you I truly do love your son. I know a bit, but I also know you do things differently from my Milan, but I am willing to learn him, just as I know he is willing to learn me.

“I can offer him protection, and as long as I’m able nothing will be lacking if he wants it, and we will visit if he wishes to come with me, and I will do everything in my power to keep him safe, because if nothing else convinces you, please take my word when I say I would never forgive myself if something happened to him because of me.

“I do not want to deny myself the chance that he may love me as I love him, because I had been doing that ever since I met him, and I love him too much to hide it.”

Somewhere mid speech he had begun petting Zapa’s fur in self-soothing motions. Now that he had said his piece, he was still nervous but what was done was done: he had spoken truthfully, and few things were as important to him as his own word. Now he waited, moments seeming longer than they were as Galen and Evalina shared another of their knowing looks.

Without words, Evalina asked Galen if there was something he wanted to say. Without words, he indicated to her that she should speak first.

She sat beside him, gently ushering Anatole’s dogs so she wouldn’t step on them by accident. Just as gently he took his hands and just as gently she spoke: “It is said in the shtetl that Elohim calls out the name of the one a boy is meant to marry upon his birth, and that to find the one that he has willed for us is one of the greatest fulfillments of the divine will.

“It is a bond meant to endure forever, it is our joy, it is our completion when we find the one decreed for us by heaven. If Elohim has called you for our son, sweet boy, if you are the one to make him happiest in this world and the next, then we will not interfere - we will celebrate you loudest of all.”

He must be hearing things. He surely must become nervous enough for his mind to become delirious, surely that must be it. Yet, Evalina cupped his face and kissed his brow like she did with her own children. A dog barked, all dogs barked as Galen had to widen his steps because they insisted on walking between his legs.

Galen squeezed his shoulder affectionately. “But you should be telling our son. You are going to tell our son, right?”

Reality caught up with him. They were giving him their blessing to tell Tamryn what he felt for him. If smiles could dazzle and momentarily blind, like the sun the eyes after stepping out of a tunnel did, Anatole’s smile would’ve dazzled Evalina and Galen into seeing spots.

He tried to speak but all he could do was smile.

Evalina squeezed his hands. “I assume he will, won’t you darling? If you’re still undecided, I have more to say to convince you. I am very persuasive.”

“She is.”

“But if you don’t, we will need to have a conversation.”

Anatole frowned as he tried to think. “Wait, did he tell you something?”

Evalina and Galen exchanged curious looks. “Should he have told us something?”

Anatole’s cheeks lit up with a blush that felt alien on his cheeks. With a laugh, Tamryn’s parents said they didn’t need to know. 

* * *

Anatole’s heart stopped with the sound of the door opening. It remained suspended when it closed, frantically starting to beat again when Tamryn’s voice came through the hallway. That he was home, that Zelda would come back later because she had made way to the Cassano’s house, that the commission they had gotten was delivered with no problem. That he even helped one of their neighbours with a faucet that wouldn’t work.

Evalina and Galen smiled at Anatole, then called out to their son: “We’re in the drawing room.”

Anatole stood up, being unable to wait a minute longer, but Evalina ushered him to do so, whispering to him that it’ll be a nice surprise. In the foyer, Tamryn shuffled with his things, peeling layers of clothing and who knew what else. To him, it was another day of arriving home after running errands.

Anatole’s dogs weren’t as patient as their owner, three sets of paws announcing their way through the hallway, excitedly greeting Tamryn who greeted them just the same, in the most adorable cooing voice Anatole had ever heard.

“Why are you three paying us a visit? Are Vlad and Sisa at home?”

He was expecting his parents to reply to him, but it was someone else’s voice that reached him. A voice that felt like a dream or a memory, a voice that came with footsteps that stopped after a couple steps.

“No, no yet,” Anatole said. “They will later, but for now it’s just me.”

A sharp breath came out of Tamryn. He had been lingering around the docks, trying to get news of ships, but he must have gotten his information wrong because the sailors there told him the weather wasn’t in the best condition from timely arrivals. Tamryn had always liked the sounds of the waves against the shore, the sounds of birds flying up high —free and unrestrained— and the sounds of people who worked there going on with their daily jobs; but he wanted to think maybe the wind would carry news of his Anatole.

Not directly, of course, he knew as much. Anatole had been a ghost in the docks, his purpose hidden from official records or unwanted questions, but ships came carrying produce and people from the west all the time. He wanted to think that the auspicious news he heard was about him. Now he was here, close enough that all Tamryn needed to do was walk towards him.

Tamryn tried not to cry. He was unsuccessful.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write. There was a,” Anatole came closer to him, “a lead on a potential capture on Andrico, my Client. I didn’t want a letter to accidentally end in the wrong hands. Not when,” he was close enough to reach out to him now, “not when I would never forgive myself if harm came to you because of me.”

“What, what does that mean?”

“That I’m in love with you and if that’s agreeable to you, for as long as you’ll have me, I want to, I’d like to—”

Anatole couldn’t finish his sentence. Tamryn reached for him, holding him between his arms in the warmest, safest embrace Anatole had ever experienced. He held onto him as if he might disappear at any moment, lifting him and spinning him around in the tight hallway of his parents house.

“All I have wanted is for you to come back safe, and you’re here, you’re here.”

In their spinning Tamryn hit the wall with his back, making him tumble. He didn’t let go of Anatole, who managed to keep himself somewhat upright by freeing one of his arms from Tamryn’s hold and  frantically trying to reach the opposite wall.

“Solnishko, are you alright?”

With eyes closed, he buried his face in Tamryn’s chest. He never wanted to leave it.

“I’ve never been better.”

* * *

FOOTNOTES

(1) This is the source used for the translation here. Al-Harizi was an Andalusian jew and if there is one thing you can trust them with, is the gayass medieval poetry, everyone say thank you Rabbi Al-Harizi. One of the works referenced in part 1  (A Rainbow Thread) speaks more of him.

(2) Attar of Nishapur, "Intoxicated by the Wine of Love" as translated by Margaret Smith.

Because I am not really writing Milan if Attar of Nishapur does not make an appearance.

[mariesocuniverse]

What if Mae and Jisung Dated?

This a result of the brain rot of Jisung Park himself and that one tiktok

@multifandom-02​ let me use her format so if this looks similar that’s why

When Feelings Began: Jisung

So Park Jisung

Park. Ji. Sung

This was one of those crushes that started way back in predebut

considering that Mae was the girl that he interacted with the most, he developed a sort of infatuation for her

the fact that Mae was so affectionate with him too did not help at all either

but as they grew up and jisung started seeing her as more of a sibling (see “Mae Hyung”)

or at least Jisung thought

see when more idols started flirting with her (see The Note for reference), he started feeling something bubbling inside of him

he asked Jaemin abt it and immediately regretted it bc he started teasing Jisung abt his jealousy 

naturally of course this spread towards the others and now its a 6v1 (they didn’t tell mae explicitly but they implied it)

it didn’t help that mae was always very affectionate towards him and giving him hugs and kisses, causing him to panic and distance himself

poor boy thought she didn’t see him as a man and still just the maknae lksdhfs

he didn’t want to do anything bc he thought he’d ruin the relationship they built over the years

When Feelings Began: Mae

okay this started waaaaaay after debut

earliest would be late 2019/early 2020

latest would be hot sauce era

like prior to that its like, it wouldn’t really cross her mind that often

she’d still have that “our cute maknae” and “our cute jisungie” image on her mind

But then as jisung started maturing more and decided to help Mae whenever she needed it her mind started to do a 180*

“Wah, when did Jisung get so handsome? He has such a different aura now, I could even....oh no”

it just hit her like a ton of bricks bc she never expected anything like this to happen

she knew fans thought Jisung was attractive and that she knew he was attractive, but she didn’t think it would end up in a romantic sense

mae started thinking abt how endearing jisung was and how much she loved him and her mind started going spinning

she thought it would go away but then it got bigger and bigger as time went on and oh no im whipped arent i?

How They Got Together

It happened when she cornered him at the dorm when they were alone dlkfhds

mae knew that Jisung was avoiding and distancing himself but didn’t know why

considering he kept ignoring her she didn’t really have any chances to do anything

so she did the next best thing

she told the others to stay out of the dorm for an hour or so and cornered him in the dorm ksdhlfd

now Mae wouldn’t call herself confrontational, but she was adamant on finding out why Jisung was ignoring her

Jisung, who was already confused on why nobody was at the dorm, was panicking internally

he kept avoiding eye contact while Mae kept questioning him, barely leaving him room to breathe

Mae only stopped when he made eye contact for one sec, and she could see how uncomfortable he was in the situation

So she backed off and said she’s sorry for whatever she did, deciding to just stay with 127 for a bit because she felt guilty

meanwhile Jisung started panicking even more when he saw the guilty expression on her face and wanted to stop her because it wasn’t supposed to go this way

but he couldn’t say anything and just watched Mae give him an awkward smile and leave the Dreamies dorm

poor guy was so frustrated he nearly kicked something and the others needed to comfort him

now the tables had turned and Jisung had to find a way to talk to Mae, except this time it was less ignoring but more awkward tension  

all the while the Dreamies were tired of this back and forth and hatched a plan so the two of them would be shoved into the practice room until they talked everything

Mae didn’t want to make Jisung uncomfortable so she just stayed quiet, which just killed the boy inside

so Jisung gathered all the courage he could and told Mae abt his feelings, telling her that was why he kept avoiding her

Mae was quiet when he finished, which made Jisung think he just ruined everything

His thoughts were interrupted when he was tackled to the floor by a happy Mae, telling him that he shouldn’t said so earlier

Jisung out a relieved laugh and gave her a hug

So that was how MaeSung became a couple :D

Members’ Reaction

if you thought the Dreamies weren’t listening to the entire confession from behind the door, you are wrong

Once the confession ended all six of them burst through the room, giving their congrats and teasing the duo

they were so glad that it all worked out bc they have been pulling their hairs out bc of the two of them

when the hyungs found out, Jisung has never been more scared of his members in his life

luckily they didn’t tease him too much and just told him to take care of Mae and vice versa no yuta didn’t glare at jisung what are you talking abt Mae

like their maknae is already grown up

overall they just support each other and think it’s the cutest shit

When They’re Together

Considering that Mae was already affectionate towards him, they’re dynamic didn’t change much

the first time fans noticed something was different was when the two of them uploaded a dance cover and the looks they gave each other seemed a bit less platonic

listen guys i saw that video and knew i had to add it i saw the v i s i o n

its just so clear in their facial expressions and eyes that something was going on

another sign was when Jisung stopped calling Mae hyung and started saying noona instead

intially majority all brushed it off as like “okay jisung probably thought it was childish and started saying noona instead” and “mae was already affectionate in the first place and Jisung probably accepted his fate”

until that time one of the Dreamies went live and an unaware MaeSung kissed in the background, causing them to end the live immediately once they realized

the fans already took screenshots and videos so evven if they deleted the live they couldn’t hide anything so a confirmation article went out fairly early

poor jisung was panicking until someone calmed him down and told him that everyone was very supportive

things started clicking into places like how ppl started to realize the outings the two went together were actually dates

also the height difference

The height difference guys

jisung is absolutely the kind of bf who take advantage of his height over his girlfriend

and mae is absolutely the kind of girlfriend who pulls her boyfriend down by his shirt for a kiss when she’s denied one

jisung also does a 180 when it comes to skinship like pulling mae into his lap even though one minute prior he dodged haechan’s beam of affection

he’s also a lot more protective of her, like shielding her body behind his whenever the two have schedules together

of course the two still have their playful dynamic like clowning each other and mae going “Aigoo!” whenever Jisung does anything remotely cute

they’re both just big simps what can i say

A/N I just love jisung so much my friends what should i do

[ani-soup]

The New Velma Series Has Me Going Jinkies!

When the new animated series Velma launched a few weeks ago, it did something that no other show in the history of entertainment has done: unite everyone on the internet in hatred of it. For the first time, people on both sides of the political aisle expressed their disappointment of the new Scooby-Doo spin-off, which premiered on HBO Max on January 12 in the year of Our Lord 2023. But why is it so?

Well, for starters, it could have something to do with the fact that the teaser trailer, which outright mocked fans for wanting the show to stay true to the source material. Because attacking the people who consume your product always ends well (am I right, G4TV?).

It could also have to do with the fact that for this “incarnation” of Scooby Doo, the gang’s characters  have all been skewered and butchered and tossed to the wayside. For example,  Daphne Blake, who was the team mom in previous incarnations, is now a vapid high school bully not unlike the type you would see in Mean Girls. This mishandling of such a popular character was such that her OG voice actress, Grey DeLisle, actually made fun of the show using her character’s catchphrase.

Grey DeLisle on Twitter: "JEEPERS!!! #velmadinkley https://t.co/SaPva18G2u" / Twitter

The butchering doesn’t stop there. Fred, who was commonly depicted as the smart, charismatic leader who was obsessed with traps, is now a rude, spoiled, privileged manchild who is commonly the butt of other people’s jokes. At one point, Velma remarks that Fred is unable to feed himself during a court hearing, and cue a scene where Fred is trying (and failing miserably) to do so, much to the amusement of everyone in the court. He is also something of a misogynist, at point claiming that he can't remember Velma's name because he blatantly thinks that she's unattractive.  This version of Shaggy, now named Norville, meanwhile, is now a beta male who is trying (and failing) to win Velma’s affection and has none of the original counterpart’s charm or cowardice (though his love of snacks remains). I’m fully willing to bet that Norville is not gonna last a minute against Ultra Instinct Shaggy. One common criticism of the new series is that there is virtually no Scooby Doo in this show, despite being a spin-off of the Scooby Doo property.  Well, considering how his human companions have been dragged through the mud, this is probably the best thing to our beloved Great Dane.

Speaking of Velma, I’ve saved the worst for last. From the minute it was announced that she would be brownwashed and voiced by Mindy Kaling, I instantly knew not to expect the best from the franchise. Mindy Kaling is one of those unfunny comedians who relies too much on shock humor, not to mention she’s a raging liberal SJW. The last bit is important because she’s what is commonly referred to as an NPC. Her response to the news that people were not on board with the new South Asian Velma was that “tHeY’rE jUsT rAcIsT!” (Ms. Kaling, I feel the need to inform you that as a fellow South Asian, I also do not like your bastardization of one of my favorite childhood franchises.) Not to mention a clip has recently surfaced of her unashamedly admitting of her giving an improvised kiss to a fellow actor and threatening to have him fired if he told anyone about this. What’s even more disturbing is that the audience was laughing the entire time, as if sexual assault to a man is hilarious. (Imagine if the genders were reversed, would it still be funny then?) As for Velma herself, I can’t say that I really like her, considering how she treats everyone in her vicinity. While her previous incarnations were snarky as well, they were a lot less mean-spirited compared to this version, who is clearly unhinged and more judgmental and bitter towards just about anyone. Who wants to be about such a bundle of positivity and joy all the time?

It's no surprise that so many people have come to despise both the show and the creator. It currently sits at a record 1.3/10 on IMDB, and has been dubbed the worst animated show in modern history. (No, seriously!) There are plenty of ways to make an adult reboot of a children’s franchise. This is not one of them. Whether you’re familiar with Scooby or not, this show isn’t for you. You’re better off watching either Scoobynatural or Mystery Incorporated if you want to see a darker, edgier Scooby Doo done properly.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be watching some What’s New Scooby Doo? as a palate cleanser for whatever the hell this mess is.

[selfiecharmedlife]

Gender, Language and a Whole Mess

Yet another update in the series of posts where I start with something I watched or read and spin off into something else. First though, here is a short life update! Scheduling facial feminization surgery has been a nightmare and I’m increasingly worried I won’t be able to actually do the surgery within the year whereas before I thought it would be over and done by Fall. Meanwhile, I’m finally comfortable enough to start facial electrolysis again. The unfortunate collision of issues with FFS and having to grow out my beard have been a nightmare for my body image over the past week or so. I feel like shit all the time. 

That aside, one of my distractions from facial dysphoria was the anticipation and eventual release of the comic “I Think I Turned My Childhood Friend into a Girl.” I preordered this one on a binge of ordering a bunch of trans/sapphic comics without knowing what to expect out of it. 

The premise is fun. Two childhood friends have grown apart over the years. The more popular of the two (Mido) has a secret interest in cosmetics having learned from his three older sisters. One day, he asks his distanced friend (Hiura) if they would be interested in modeling for him as a break from his sisters. Turns out the childhood friend is extremely cute and starts presenting femme including wearing a girl’s uniform at school. Mido also realizes he’s attracted to Hiura. Shits mad cute yo 10/10 would recommend.

Past the popcorn romcom elements of the story though, I was caught off guard by how well the story captured just how complicated exploring gender can be. At different points in the volume, characters, including Hiura, switch between referring to Hiura as a guy or a girl. I’ll just use they/them while writing this. Even though every character in the story is supportive, Hiura doesn’t know how to answer direct questions about their identity. In one chapter, the enthusiastic support they receive from the girls at school quickly pushes Hiura to the limit of their social bandwidth.  

It’s a messy start to the story that felt pretty real to my own experience coming out, exploring presentation and trying to figure out who I wanted to be. Gender is a fuck and trying to parse which labels match who you want to be is a herculean task. Even in the best cases where people are immediately and emphatically supportive, the changes in how people treat you are still unmooring. Nevermind all the other things to figure out like mannerisms, fashion, etc. One of the scenes that stuck with me was Hiura finding themselves overwhelmed while shopping for makeup for the first time. I still get stressed in Ulta and I even know what everything is now. 

I can only imagine that translating this comic into English must have been an arduous task. In the English language things tend to be strictly categorical and often binary. I often have to fight for the singular they in my own professional writing over intrusive he/she. In Japanese, pronouns don’t exist in the same way and there are a number of gendered ways a person can refer to themselves that fall along a spectrum of masuline to feminine rather than discrete categories. For example, some women use the more masculine “boku” to refer to themselves or even the rougher “ore.” I imagine that trying to translate a more nebulous idea of gender into English isn’t the easiest task let alone when that is part of the focus of the story. In this case though, the challenges with translation felt like they complimented the themes of the story.

After I finished the volume, I preordered the second, read it again and then went looking online to see what other people might be saying about it. What I found was the dreaded discourse. Specifically, right-wing accounts had jumped on the translation alleging that the translator had injected “transness” into the story where the original work portrayed Hirua as a feminine boy. Looking further, I also found that the translator had read future volumes, spoken with queer people and gone above and beyond to best translate the story into the English language and gender conventions. 

Regardless, the reactionary anime fan engine had wound up in the most predictable way. There is this floating idea of a “literal translation” that perfectly reflects the original work in a new language. The outrage is, of course, selective and tends to revolve around progressive ideas that make reactionary readers uncomfortable (ex. Gay people exist). 

The very wonderful upcoming visual novel “I Became Gay from Translating My New Roommate's Short Story” directly addresses this in the demo. In the story, one of the main characters has an aside talking about how one of their friends/colleagues is being bashed online for translating a work where the protagonist comes to identify as trans. If I recall correctly, the line went something like “you could have the character directly address the reader saying ‘I am transgender’ and some people would still insist that the translator had added that in as part of their ‘agenda’.”

https://proflilyvn.itch.io/gft (go play the demo. It has an extensive discussion of deep dish pizza)

It’s easy enough to ignore the obvious reactionaries that are just looking for something to complain about. It’s harder to ignore the accounts with rainbow flags and pronouns in their bios doing the same. Cis gay communities are not immune to TERF talking points. It’s hard to forget the time one of an ex’s friends, himself an openly gay and effeminate man, soft-ball pitched to me that trans people should ‘just have their own thing’ instead of attending pride. I attended his wedding. It sucked but he wouldn’t even be able to get married if trans people hadn’t thrown bricks at cops. 

The curious piece to me is that, presumably, these people would be 100% ok with the story as long as the trans label was left out of it. All the same events could happen and everything would be cool as long as Hiura wasn’t referred to as a girl at any point. They could wear skirts, crush on a boy and everything else but calling themselves a girl is just too much. Obviously this is bullshit concern trolling. “No femmes” is a meme among cis gay men for a reason and there is a long history of derogating feminine presenting men, but I’m going to take it at face value and assume there are people who honestly believe this. 

Trans people present an existential threat to an essentialized idea of gender. The fact that I was assigned male at birth, but now have a vagina and use women’s restrooms is frightening to some people. It’s frightening because it means that they too could transition. Their sense of gender identity could change. Even if they have no desire to transition, the possibility is there. Worse, I’m much happier and maybe, just maybe, they too could be happier if they allowed themselves to step outside of the boxes they’ve put themselves in. It’s not the events of the story or actions of the characters they’re objecting to; They are having a visceral reaction to the transgender label. 

Trans people usually live in scary times but I’ve been losing sleep lately. The culture war around trans athletes and trans children is front and center in my life and it feels grim. Rest assured the advocates for banning drag shows and trans kids from participating in sports will not stop there. They want to make it illegal for trans people to exist in public. Post-SRS, I have a chronic medical need for supplementary hormones or else things will get pretty bad for me very quickly. I also fear that those hormones might become illegal in the foreseeable future. 

It seems like a jump to start from a queer comic to ending up here, but we live in scary times. As the culture war around my ability to exist seems to only be accelerating, I fear that many of the people who claim to be allies won’t be there. Even some so-called “leftist” influencers have been uncritically spitting TERF talking points to their large followings about banning drag in the presence of minors (TL note: drag is a proxy for openly gay people). Which is a point that only makes sense if you think being queer is inherently sexual and you also secretly, or not so secretly, have contempt for gay people. It’s a frighteningly lonely thought to sit with but here I am.

Apologies if I got anything wrong here. I researched a bit for this one, but my actual knowledge of Japanese ends at genki 1 and a lot of wani kani.