#did you miss my latin posting i missed my latin posting

[ephemeral-winter]

latin teacher was telling us what classes he's offering next term and prefaced his comments with "so i know some of you are allergic to poetry but" and like. rude

[sol-draws-sometimes]

You can tell not a single Venezuelan was involved in the making of Jane the Virgin, cause NOT ONCE DID THEY SING THE BIRTHDAY SONG!!!

It's a comedy show, like wouldn't it have been so funny to see a white man(or Rafael since he's not Venezuelan) celebrating a birthday at the Villanueva household and they're just expecting "Happy Birthday" but with the words in Spanish and they get fucking hit with; a song with a completely, different ass melody; with 4 verses, probably with Happy Birthday in Spanish afterwards; one more time in English cause, "We're immigrants so we gotta do it in English"; and the whole ordeal is about 5 times longer than the normal birthday song. Like, that shit is hilarious! Missed opportunity!!!

I caught it when Mateo turned one and they just sang Happy Birthday in Spanish, which latinos DO do, but that's just not Venezuelan. And like, yah Michael will probably have known about the existence of the song since he's been dating Jane for a while, but like it doesn't even have to be funny(I know that scene supposed to be serious), it's just a small thing that's Venezuelan you know.

Also, I'm not even super Venezuelan, I just have extended family cause I had a visabuelo(great uncle) that was Venezuelan, I'm sure an actual Venezuelan would've caught more things.

Anyway if you don't know what I'm talking about, go watch this skit it's super funny. Or here's the song in a form you'll normally hear it. There's also additional quips, you can see in this video. I don't know them cause my cousins don't really do it, but other people do, so it makes it even more chaotic.

[dbphantom]

Starting ffxv, watching the intro sequence: this is gonna be so fun, I can't wait to go on a fun road trip with my new friends! I love this song cover and it's really funny with it playing over them bitching and pushing the car. I've never played a final fantasy game before, so I don't know what to expect, but everything looks so cool and fun!

60 hours later, watching the end credits:

[rookiesbookies]

Hi i love the empress and male!concubines idea with the COD boys, I def think that it'll be interesting to see more hcs for this idea/au?

Alright my little anon. Truthfully I should have given more details in the og post (it also started as a rant about how I couldn’t handle a poly relationship because of my anxiety (I also saw a post about a girl who had 4 partners and didn’t get any attention and it made me sad so that's also way).) I have been stewing on this idea though so here’s some hc. Might do more if people are still interested in it or want more, I do love talking about my AUs (like this one and the Greek god one, so let me know if you want me to go more bc stuff like this rattles around my brain)

Also apparently there is a term for a male concubine and they’re called concubinatus or a concubinus. Honestly I took Latin and the fact I didn’t expect this lowkey brings me pain.

General HC?

The first empress in a long time. And the first empress to like her concubinuses (hope that's right) more than the idea of marrying for an emperor. So the council decided to bring you only the best warriors to keep. They of course still must serve occasionally but they have been elevated in status to there is lower risk anything will happen. Mostly kept as tacticians or kept to train the new boys joining the country’s military.

Konig and Krueger were taken as trophies of war for the Empress. They were two of the largest, smartest, and strongest men from the battlefield.

When the two were adjusting, it was difficult. The empress was gracious with them, mentioning how she wouldn’t dare make them do anything, apologizing for the war and the loss. Truthfully trying to get them comfortable, and the two were honestly shocked but I’ll get into that more in their sections.

Keegan was sent as a gift by a neighboring nation looking for peace and protection. He had a good time adjusting, sometimes making comments about how this treatment is too good for nasty military dogs like all of them but I’ll touch on that more later.

Price

Price was probably the first concubinus. He had been a strong warrior and was deemed by the council to be a good fit for what they were hoping for. He also, however, did not intend to retire from his position so they had to find an alternate reason to stop him from getting in trouble.

For him it was awkward. His empress was a bit younger than him, however he did crave to be a father. While the empress didn’t intend to fall pregnant yet, he would be on his best behavior when the opportunity came.

The chance to be the father of the next royal was something he couldn’t miss.

Soap

Both him and Gaz were best in their class, breaking records, so it only made sense it seems to send them to the empress once they got their prime years out of them.

He was probably the last concubinus to come in before the gift and the trophies of war. He has the more vicious puppy eyes. He waits for you like a dog every time you leave and enter. Always talks about how much more comfortable your bed is and how nice it is to lay with you. Definitely sweet talks you even though he’s already a concubinus.

Will literally do anything you say and it’s partially because he thinks he will get sent back to the military full time if he doesn’t.

Ghost

Definitely does checks on all the palace guards to make sure they’re up to spec. If even one slacks he uses his power to make them run.

This is all because of how gracious the empress has been with him. When he had a fit of ptsd (i'm thinking anxiety attack or something) she invited him into her room and away from the others so he didn’t feel embarrassed and comforted him as best she could before making him some tea. With an empire that stretches across Europe he was impressed she had the time to stop and care about a random concubinus.

Definitely was surprised he told you as much as he did and how you listened and comforted him. Telling him you’d never make him do anything he wasn’t comfortable with was something he appreciated.

Gaz

See the first paragraph of Soap’s bc Im not copying it again.

Since I feel like Gaz is the older of the two (he seems to have a maturity I dont see as much in Soap idk?) He was sent to her first of the two for his ‘semi-retirement’. Now they just need them to occasionally train incoming recruits.

He definitely enjoyed adjusting to the cushy life of the castle. He liked being able to keep his weapons since he did double as a personal guard for the empress. But he likes that he and the other concubinus get a hot tub more, definitely likes all the fancy clothes.

His job is the have sex with his sexy empress, what’s not to love?

Konig

Truthfully, when he was being cocky toward the other concubinus and you pulled him away into a separate room to tell him you knew he was compensating for his anxiety, he was more than shocked. He was stunned into silence.

So when you reached your hands under his hood and rubbed his cheeks, telling him it was ok and he didn’t need to act out, he melted. He had never truly been shown such softness, so to be shown it by the empress of the enemy? He was so conflicted. With a pat on his chest you told him he could take on his position fully when he was more comfortable and that you were concerned for him and there if he needed to talk. He was still quiet.

Krueger

Was not interested. No matter how many compliments you gave him or gifts you sent, he wouldn’t budge. He was grumpy and hostile. So much so he made the other concubinus nervous especially for you.

It wasn’t until you pulled him into your room that night that he relaxed quite a bit under your soft hands and apologies. Massaging his tired muscles, and lulling him into a sense of security. Now he understood how Konig folded so easily.

He offered to return the favor but you told him not until he was more comfortable and made him promise to play nice. He agreed but only to be a bit nicer.

Keegan

He honestly believes this treatment is too good for all of them. They were dogs of war, animals trained to kill, and now they’re dressed in fancy clothes? With an empress who dotes on them when they should be doting on her? Truthfully he baffles him. He isn’t ungrateful, he just didn’t expect to become a concubinus when sent here. He expected a joint military operation or to be a representative. He hit it off quickly with the group from the empire’s military.

The two from the war keep to themselves and the shorter one threatened to bite him.

Often feels the most out of place because he is the only one from his area, but he doesn’t complain. He gets nice gifts and is invited into your room pretty often, so he appreciates every moment. He wonders if it would be proper or allowed for him to get you gifts?

I was surprising more eager to write this ask than I thought. Let me know if yall want me to do formal parts to this? Maybe an actual fic for this au?

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

[radiant-cowgirl]

i saw a bunch of other people doing this so

random redacted headcanons!

- vincent can’t handle spicy food very well, even post-turning

- ivan hates fishing

- david loves egg salad sandwiches with hot sauce (it’s his favorite comfort food)

- caelum has never had cotton candy and freelancer is pretty sure if he ever did, he would implode

- gavin doesn’t like snow

- lasko on the other hand LOVES spicy food and testing his tolerance to certain things

- damien doesn’t drink coffee or tea or energy drinks, this man is just out here raw-dogging life

- kody still tries to look at all the damn crew’s socials, even though they all have him blocked

- huxley (opposite of damien) gets his caffeine anyway he can but his favorite are the caffeine pouches (similar to zyns (these are also my favorite))

- asher loves watching mma fights and tries (gently) to recreate the moves on babe (“i could have dropped you just then! you gotta keep your guard up!”)

- james “i’m exploding you with my mind” redacted

- marcus begged his mom for a mohawk in middle school but he didn’t have the right texture hair for it and she refused to buy him all the hair gel necessary to make it a real mohawk so they just had to shave his head (kids thought he had lice)

- anton loves sending and receiving physical mail. he knows it’s impractical in comparison to texting or calling, but he loves it

- ollie has a favorite blanket, pillow, and set of sheets. he’s very particular about his bedtime routine

- elliot however could drop anywhere at anytime. and that’s nothing to do with him being a dreamwalker. he’s just a fantastic sleeper

- brachium has never had candy, but he’s curious about it

- avior really really likes classical music and it’s brought him to tears multiple times (especially jupiter comp. by gustav holst iykyk)

- milo holds the door open for everyone whenever he can. sweetheart once thought he was following them for like fifteen minutes but he was still stuck at the door

- cam loves fresh produce and is a frequenter of any local farmers market

- blake had a phase in middle school and early high school where he was super patriotic and right-wing leaning and he hates when people bring it up

- aaron actually knows most of the shaw pack boys. he tried to hire them for an event before realizing they were an empowered company. david thought he knew

- sam showed pigs and sheep when he was younger. he kinda misses it but he doesn’t have the room for livestock anymore

- vega in all his years of existing both in aria and on earth has never been truly hugged

- before falling, regulus lived on earth with his charge. they had two cats

- xavier used to travel ridiculous amounts of miles to go to food festivals around the country. he took the team with him once or twice

- geordi never deleted any pictures of him and cutie. he’s still hopeful that things will work out and he doesn’t want to get rid of older memories with them

- guy was friends with a lot of the unempowered boys in school, but lost touch with them in college

- morgan is very into hair-care. his shower looks like an apothecary shop full of mystery vials and oils. he knows what everything is and how to use it though.

- porter loves classic literature and translating latin to english. it’s one of the few hobbies he allows himself to have

- hush once traipsed into doc’s apartment, mud up to his knees and all over his face and hands, holding a bull frog. he only came to ask what it was.

[charmikarma]

Breath as Influence and John in the Epilogues

Breath is probably one of the better understood aspects. “What is it?” someone asks – and the whole fandom is like, “Oh, Breath is about freedom and wind and detachment.” Which I don't disagree with. But I think most people miss a key piece of it – Breath as influence.

I'm no seasoned classpector, but I am a Mage of Breath, so I feel like I have a deep and personal understanding of Breath, particularly because of how it has manifested in my life. Yeah, I know, claiming I'm an authority on the subject because of my self-imposed alignment within a fake typology system makes me sound like an asshole. But I'll have to ask you to trust me, because if I start talking about my own experiences, I'll sound like even more of an asshole.

Anyway, let's kick this off with the official description of Breath, per the Extended Zodiac:

In summary: the Breath-bound are flexible, driven, detached, and maybe a little self-centered. Also, other people tend to get caught up in their personal development, which tends to make them good leaders. But the most important thing here for the point I'm making is this:

others ... feel inspired by them.

This word, inspired, has been rolling around in my brain for the past few weeks, because of its connection to Breath. Hey, did you know that “inspire” comes from Latin spirare, meaning "breathe"? And if we include the Latin prefix in-, it becomes "breathe into."

The Breath-bound have an ability to breathe into, or inspire others. They're not aware of it – after all, they are just living their lives for themselves. But wherever they go, they are inspiring people. Or, more accurately, they are influencing people. Actually, the influence of Breath goes beyond just people. I could even get meta with it (and I will. I apologize in advance). But let's start small for now.

Tavros Nitram

So, Tavros. Page of Breath. Pretty much all of Tavros's contributions to Homestuck as a story happen as a result of someone doing something to him. Vriska paralyzes him, which kickstarts the whole FLARP cycle of revenge arc. And again when the truce is broken in Act 5 Act 2, it is because Vriska kills Tavros. If this doesn't sound like influence to you, you're right. Tavros has very little influence. He's a Page, after all, and if there's one thing I know about Pages, it's that they're weak as shit until they reach their "true potential," which is pretty much always something stupidly overpowered. Y'know, like Jake overpowering Jade's first guardian powers. That was pretty batshit, I'd say.

But Tavros's contributions don't end there. He actually does reach his true Page-y potential right at the very end of Homestuck, when he gathers an army of ghosts – honestly, probably every single ghost in the furthest ring – by just talking to them. Was this something of a punchline to a very long joke? Probably. But it is also a pretty good example of the kinds of things Breath players typically do.

On a meta level, though, this argument kind of falls apart, because... As far as I can tell, the army of ghosts doesn't really do anything. Nothing important, anyway. Lord English's defeat is pretty much entirely at the hands of John, Dave, Davepetasprite^2, and alt!Calliope in the body of Jade, as described in the Epilogues. The ghost army just isn't relevant, in the end.

But you know what is relevant? Vriska.

Half the people reading this just groaned, I can feel it. Why are we talking about Vriska, a Light player, on a post about Breath?? I hear your question and I raise you this: Why the fuck is Vriska so obsessed with Breath players???? Personally, I think it's because she has an innate sense for their passive ability to decide what's relevant.

But before we get into Vriska, let's talk about John.

John Egbert

John, Heir of Breath. The protagonist of the story. In the context of my thesis of "Breath as influence," isn't it interesting that the protagonist is a hero of Breath? And even beyond that, he's an Heir, a class typically interpreted as "becoming" their Aspect, or "inheriting" it. If you find my argument compelling, you could even say John is the influence that drives the story. Which is exactly what a protagonist does - after all, what is a story without a protagonist?

This question is actually addressed in Homestuck, kind of. At some point in Act 4, Terezi manipulates John into visiting his denizen early, which gets him killed. The story is left without its protagonist, and progress grinds to a screeching halt. Jade doesn't enter the Medium and presumably dies. The reckoning never happens. Dave and Rose are trapped in a doomed timeline. They lose contact with the trolls. For what is a world without the breeze, without air, but a place of complete standstill? The story needs John to continue. Okay, it needs Rose and Dave and Jade just as much. But it's interesting that the story makes a point of John's death being the turning point that makes this particular timeline doomed.

Okay, sorry for the wait. It’s Vriska time. Vriska's driving motivation is to be relevant. She does everything in her power to steal the spotlight, which may or may not be related to the fact that she's a Thief of Light. Again, I'm not an experienced classpecter. I only really have a surface level understanding of Light. But I'm getting off topic here.

In Act 5 Act 2, Vriska starts talking to John. Why? Well, partially because she wants to compete with Terezi, who is talking to Dave. But there's also the fact that she wants to be the force responsible for Bec Noir. And also for John reaching god tier. And everything relevant really??? She's really fucking good at being relevant, I'll give her that. Or at least presenting the illusion of relevance, but that's a big topic that I think I should save for another day. Another essay, maybe. The point here is, John has a tremendous amount of influence over Things That Happen just by existing, and Vriska knows it. Maybe she torments Tavros because she senses the same sort of potential in him, but that's probably a stretch.

In any case, this is baby shit. There's better evidence than this. Let’s talk retcon powers.

You could argue that the retcon powers are separate from John's abilities related to his classpect, and on some level you'd be right. But in a game that "knows" everything that is going to happen, I have to question if extraneous powers like this are taken into consideration when Sburb "decides" what classpect it gives a player. I feel similarly about Jade's First Guardian powers. Teleportation is a pretty space-y power, in my opinion. And definitely one that... "breaks rules," I guess. Among all the other things First Guardians get to do. Once again, I'm no classpector. But Jade getting access to First Guardian powers upon reaching God Tier strikes me as very Witch of Space-y. I feel similarly about John's retcon powers - they strike me as very Heir of Breath-y.

And not just because I view Breath as influence, though that is definitely the most obvious way the retcon powers could be interpreted as Breath-y. Even on a surface level, they're pretty Breath-y. When John first talks to Roxy, he gives a whole spiel about everything he's been to up until this point, most of which is obscured by "blah blah blah." But little phrases come through occasionally, and when he starts talking about his brand new retcon powers, he uses the phrase "UNSTUCK FROM CANON." Which sounds a lot to me like "freedom from the narrative." But maybe more telling is the fact that John's quest as an Heir of Breath requires that he use his retcon powers. Getting rid of the oil, freeing the fireflies - his quest as established at the very beginning was always intended (in universe at least; I can't speak for Hussie's intentions) to be solved by his retcon powers.

So retcon powers are at the very least Breath-adjacent. What’s that got to do with Breath as influence? I’m sure you see where I’m going with this. Retcon powers are basically the ability to do whatever the fuck you want to any point of any timeline. I’d call this influence but I’d sound silly, actually. It goes way beyond influence. It’s way less subtle. I guess you could call direct intervention like this influence at its most powerful. Well, almost. There’s one step above this that John never really taps into. Which brings us to...

The Epilogues

For better or for worse, I fucking love the Epilogues. I think Candy, on its own, is a fantastic and surreal deep dive into a mind high on depression. And as for Meat, I’m an absolute sucker for metafiction and narrative fuckery. I eat that shit right up. My favorite anime is Princess Tutu, etc., etc. This is your warning: Yes, this section will contain evidence toward my claim that Breath is influence. It also doubles as an Epilogues analysis. It kind of turns into one at the end. Sorry, but I needed to get it out of my system.

So, in case you missed it, the step above retcon powers that John never taps into is direct narrative control, like we see Dirk engaging in throughout the Meat side of the Epilogues. The fact that Dirk is revealed to be the narrator of Meat begs the question: who is narrating Candy? It’s never outright stated, but it’s probably alt!Calliope. Unlike Dirk, alt!Calliope doesn’t have an agenda, as far as we’re aware. So why is Candy so fucked up and weird? Why is everyone out of character? I know this comes as a shock, but: it’s probably John’s passive influence over the narrative.

Before the Epilogues even begin, John’s been wasting away in his house all day, every day. He’s depressed as hell. Sort of dissatisfied with how artificial and "perfect" Earth C is. Some have suggested he also feels disconnected from the post-retcon versions of his friends, and I think this holds some merit. It would explain why he feels disconnected from reality in Candy.

(Candy, 11)

Depression colors your view of reality. It darkens some parts, brightens others. People who look happy will appear so to an unsettling degree. Fucked up things will appear even more fucked up. Depression ups the contrast, if you will. And that’s pretty much what happens in Candy. Jane’s pretty bad in Meat, but she’s like a billion times worse in Candy. Jade causes some awkward moments in Meat, but she is pretty much a sex pest in Candy. The positive parallels are a bit harder to find, since Meat pretty much sucks too, but you could speculate that John perceives Rosemary to be happier together than they actually are, so they’re, like, uber happy together in Candy and raising a daughter and shit. It is John’s warped perception of reality that in turn warps it beyond recognition.

This isn’t just me theorizing, by the way. There’s pretty compelling evidence to suggest that this idea is accurate to what is happening. It’s pretty clear in a conversation between (Vriska), who has just arrived on Earth C via the black hole in the furthest ring and her descendant/clone Vriska (aka Vrissy in HS:BC). The two of them stare up at the sky, pointing out clouds and what they are shaped like, when (Vriska) has a realization.

(Candy, 37)

John’s influence over the reality is so absolute, even the clouds bend to his will. I think Vriska only notices it because she’s a new arrival to Johntown. It isn’t long before she’s absorbed into the John-ness of the timeline. And then, she goes on to say exactly what I’ve been saying this whole time. Remember earlier, when I said Vriska knew that John had an incredible amount of influence over Things That Happen?

(Candy, 37)

Yeah. That wasn’t speculation.

The last thing she says, though, that he’d be relevant even if he was dead, is actually a reference to Meat. So let’s talk about it!

As we know, Meat is narrated by Dirk. Dirk’s narrative style is a lot of fun for me, personally. He’s sassy, kind of an asshole, and has no time for bullshit. The second John puts that meat in his mouth, he gets to work, pulling the strings of his little puppet show.

(Meat, 1)

He wastes no time putting words in John’s mouth, writing him out of the story of Earth C as quickly as possible. It’s almost with a sense of urgency that he pushes John to complete his mission. Which is probably necessary, seeing as the sanctity of canon relies on him going back to tie up the loose end that is Lord English. But I think Dirk has ulterior motives. I don’t think Dirk has the ability to impose his will so overbearingly with John around, because for some reason, John’s power of passive influence prevents him from doing so. Is John more powerful than Dirk, even after his ascension to Ultimate Selfhood? Maybe. I certainly think so.

But John’s pretty gullible. He’s easily influenced. He doesn’t have the same safeguard around his own mind, for some reason. Or maybe he does, and it’s just taken Dirk this long to crack him? This is speculation at this point. Not important.

So Dirk eventually kills John. Why? Well, first of all, it’s harder to control the narrative with him around. Though I speculate that’s not very important to Dirk anymore since he fucks off to who knows where around when John comes back. I think, more likely, Dirk finds John’s influence on the narrative unsavory. I mean, just look at Candy. What an absolute disaster of a timeline. Maybe his awareness is such that he knows that letting John live will result in a similar degradation of his friends’ personalities as he knows them. I can’t really say one way or another. It’d explain why he wants John’s body on the ship with him, though. Y’know, to make sure he never gets revived. And yes, he wants him on that ship. He pretty much tells Terezi outright to captchalogue his body before convincing her to join him.

(Meat, 35)

There’s one problem, though. I don’t think John being dead even erased his influence on the narrative?

(Meat, 36)

Right there at the end:

The gentle breeze is all she can hear. It’s louder than my voice, and in some understated way, makes my case for me more persuasively.

I don’t think there’s any other way to read this than the breeze representing John. This is a literal manifestation of John’s influence. I guess it could be symbolic – like Terezi doing a “what would John do?” kind of thought process. But I dunno, Dirk doesn’t strike me as that kind of narrator. Besides... It’s a little too on the nose. Say what you will about the Epilogues, but I believe a great amount of care went into them. This certainly isn’t a throwaway line.

Conclusion

Okay, sorry. I really went off the deep end into Epilogues Analysis Land there. You may have noticed that I didn’t talk about Homestuck: Beyond Canon. That’s partly because I haven’t gotten there in my reread, but mostly because I’m not yet convinced that it has – or will have – nearly the level of plot consistency of its predecessors. We’ll see, I guess.

In any case... Breath as influence, huh? There’s probably more evidence for this hidden away somewhere. I probably could have talked about Rufioh. I didn’t want to though. I also probably could have pointed out the word inspire from the Extended Zodiac thing and called it a day, but instead I blacked out and wrote this. Weird!

If you read all, uh... *checks word count* 2.7k words of this??? Jesus fuck. If you read all this, thank you for reading. I’m open to feedback! I’d love to discuss some of this more! Especially the Epilogues stuff. I have a million thoughts. Bye!

[frost-queen]

Burst like a glass balloon (Sis!Reader x Bridgerton brothers)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic​, @theletterhart​, @alex--awesome--22​, @elllie-does-the-posts​, @floatlosers​, @merlieve​, @queen-of-books​, @glimmering-darling-dolly​, @denkisclown​, @wildieflower​, @meyocoko​, @bubblybrianna​, @justanothercoco​ @idkwhatmyusernameis,  @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23​, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr​, @swampthing07​, @freyathehuntress

Summary: Reader is the youngest of Bridgerton's. Your governess has a very abusive way towards you, gaslighting you into remaining quiet. One day your three brothers find out asking you why you didn't tell them, thinking they wouldn't believe you and you secretly deserved it.

“Again!” – your governess snapped, letting her wooden pointing stick slam against your desk. It started you, making you sniff loudly. – “And don’t make me see any tears!” – she made clear bending down inspecting your cheeks. You quickly wiped them dry. You moved your book closer to you, starting repeating the list of flowers by their Latin names. – “Abelia…Abutilon… Acacia…” – you said between sniffs as not a moment ago you had busted out in tears.

“Pronunciation miss Bridgerton!” – the governess made clear. She said it during your speech, making you stutter out the word. Her wooden stick coming down hard again. – “A lady does not stutter miss Bridgerton. Should I fetch you the bottle for only baby’s babble as much as you do!” – Her words carving deep into your heart. – “Perhaps I should start the basics with you all over again? How to walk, talk, sit, and eat properly for a lady. Is that what you require miss Bridgerton? Teaching for the simple minded?” – she asked with mockery.

“No…” – you answered softly. She pressed her hand down on your book, coming intimidatingly close to your face. – “Then do better!” – her voice as sharp as a knife. – “From the top.” – she insisted letting the wooden stick fall in her palm. – “But…” – you said. Big mistake. Her stick came down hard on your knuckles. You squeaked in pain untensing your fingers. – “I said again!”

You curled your fingers up to your palm, moving them down to your lap. Grabbing onto your dress tightly trying to forget the pain. – “Abelia… Abutilon…Acacia…” – you started over. Your governess nodding content as with each word her stick fell into her palm. You made sure to not falter as the slightest bit of hesitation awoke the feral beast inside of her. Her eyes would narrow coldly, her mouth pulled up to a hiss ready to spew out her personage of you.

Finishing the list of Latin flowers you felt out of breath. Mouth dry from speaking the long list that endured for hours. You turned around slowly in your seat, head down. – “Did I do good Governess?” – you asked nervously. She inhaled sharply through her nose. – “No.” – she casually expressed, making your eyes widen. – “Five whips to the knee.” – she informed you, approaching. You held your hands on your lap, already clenching onto your dress for the first impact.

The first whack made you press your lips together. Head turning away to not make a sound. The second made your body flinch, a soft yelp escaping your lips. The third one was brutal as it made your upper body shot forwards out of breath. The fourth numbed your knees with a tingling. Biting on the inside of your cheek to not make a sound. The fifth touch drew blood.

Hands trembled on your lap as your Governess laid some lost strays of hair back in place. – “Now Miss Bridgerton.” – she spoke lifting your chin up with her stick. – “Not a word to my family.” – you told her with tears in your eyes. – “Exactly.” – she warmed up a smile. A smile that never could warm your heart. – “What will they say when they find out how improper your behavior is during my lessons. How incompetent you are.” – she straightened her posture. – “I understand…” – you answered, blinking rapidly. – “I’ll never be like you.” – the words coming out so truly you started to believe them.

“Indeed miss Bridgerton. You never will be. Not every lady can accomplish many things.” – she spoke lowering her stick on you. She turned around, collecting her supplies. – “I’ll see you next time tomorrow.” – she clicked her suitcase shut, dragging it off your bed. You watched her leave before letting yourself slide down your chair onto the ground. Biting in your arm to deafen out your screams of pain. Body shuddering from the sharp pain rushing through you. Wiping your eyes dry, you carefully got up.

Knees trembling as they could barely hold you up. Stumbling over to the bowl filled with water by your vanity. Falling down in your seat, you slowly pulled up your dress. Revealing your knees. Still red and blue from previous punishments. The skin rough as some blood had made a way down your leg. A thin line of evidence. Sniffing loudly, you moved your hand through the water, wiping it up your leg afterwards. Water drippled when your hand got out again. The clear water slowly changing into color. You continued to clean your knees as if there never had been blood.

Face contracting when it pricked. You then held your hands in the water as it eased your muscles a bit. It was almost a routine after your lessons. Clean up to get rid of any evidence of harm. After all you needed to stay quiet. You didn’t want your family to know how not good enough you were. Your sisters surely never had such difficulties. Perhaps they were better suited to be a proper lady then you.

The thought of marrying a poor man crossing your mind. It was after all what your governess said. That you should be lucky to have such an average face for you would never taste the luxuries of a title. Not one deserving off. Letting your dress fall back over your knees, you took a deep breath. Taking the bowl of water, you moved over to your window. Pushing it open as you came sitting on the edge for a second.

Looking down at the ground beneath you. Quickly you emptied the water as it fell into the grass. A sudden knock at your door made you jump out of your skin. Quickly close the window once more, setting the bowl aside. A maid entered. – “Miss Bridgerton, diner is served.” – she told you. You nodded at her, following her downstairs.

You encountered Hyacinth and Gregory chatting loudly and happily over to the diner table. Anthony sitting down as a maid pulled his chair closer. Colin and Benedict already deep in a conversation. You came sitting down near Anthony. Eloise rushing in to join mama’s side. Francesca taking her seat beside you. Anthony smiled upon your arrival. – “How have your lessons been, Y/n?” – he asked laying a napkin on his lap. – “Productive…” – you answered, fumbling with your fingers nervously under the table.

“Has she taught you already French? I’d say I struggled a bit with it.” – Francesca said with a snort. You quietly shook your head. – “Not yet…” – you whispered. – “Y/n is still young.” – Anthony made clear to his sister. – “She will learn French soon enough and when she does, she will thrive at it.” – He turned his head to you with a warm smile. You couldn’t help yourself, but smile saddened back at him. Oh how high value he had of you. The first course arrived making you swallow nervously. Looking around carefully at everyone and how occupied they were.

You gently moved your hand above the table, picking up your spoon. About to put the spoon in your mouth, commented your brother Benedict on your hands. – “Y/n, did you hurt yourself? Your hands are red and scraped.” – his comment made you drop your spoon, hiding your hand underneath the table again. – “Let me see!” – Anthony insisted grabbing for your hand underneath the table.

You fought with every might to not let him see it, but your brother’s grip was stronger. He revealed your hand above the table, forming an opinion for himself. Letting his fingers brush gently under your knuckles. – “Did you fall in the garden?” – he asked worriedly. Pressing your lips together you remained silent. – “Y/n hasn’t been out in the garden all day.” – Colin pointed out. – “Truly?” – Benedict spoke on it with furrowed brows. – “Y/n how did you require it then?” – Benedict turned to you, barely touching his soup.

“The skin is rough… flesh scraped… this doesn’t seem like a first wound.” – Anthony said out loud, thinking as he carefully held your hand. You pulled your hand out of his, moving it down. Your little action made your brothers wary. – “Y/n tell us where you hurt yourself. If it happened numerous times we must do something about it.” – Colin made clear pointing with his spoon at you. – “Is it from a sharp edge from your nightstand? A certain type of fabric that is rough?” – Anthony suggested concerningly.

You couldn’t tell them, not even a bit. It was all getting too much for you. Making you push your chair back and take a run for it. Anthony threw his napkin on the table, getting up as well. – “Where… where is everyone going?” – Violet asked seeing her sons get up. – “A moment mama.” – Colin said with a bow before following his brothers. – “Y/n!” – Anthony shouted loud going in pursuit.

There was an attempt to escape them, unfortunately you failed miserably. Benedict grabbing you quickly by the shoulder. – “No!” – you called out, swaying your arms around to break free. – “Y/n what is the matter? We are simply concerned about you.” – Colin made clear trying to calm you. – “Let me go!” – you stomped firmly on your brother’s toes making him call it out in pain. His grip on you released, yet you stumbled to the ground.

The burn on your knees from hitting the floor made you flinch. Slowly you turned around to come and sit down, hands beside you. A part of your dress upwards making Anthony’s eyes widen. – “What is this!” – he called out, dropping to his knees as he pulled your dress up to reveal your knees. Benedict and Colin gasping in terror. Anthony’s jaw tensed. – “Y/n this isn’t from simply falling. What happened!” – he outed loudly seeing your bruised knees. Black and blue as the bruises barely had proper time to heal. Still you remained silent, looking away.

“The truth!” – Anthony shouted, moving his hands forwards to grab you. When he saw you flinch, he stopped, staring with wide eyes at you. Benedict lowering him beside Anthony. – “Y/n. Is someone hurting you?” – you couldn’t hold it anymore when Benedict asked it. Tears streaming down your face. Sobbing loudly and almost out of breath. – “Y/n who!” – Anthony demanded to know as Colin came kneeling beside you, pulling you close against his chest.

You shook your head not wanting to tell them. – “Y/n please I beg of you.” – Anthony spoke nearly sobbing himself from seeing his little sister in so much pain. That someone was hurting you. – “My governess…” – you cried out finally speaking about it. Benedict and Anthony shared a brief glance. “Why didn’t you tell us?” – Colin spoke stroking your back. – “Because… you wouldn’t have believed me… and besides…I…I deserve it.” – you outed wiping some tears away. – “No!” – Anthony said loudly, placing his hands on top of your knees.

“You did not deserve it. Not one bit of it. Your governess was wrong to treat you like this and she will not be forgiven for it.” – he added as Colin placed a kiss down your head. – “That is no way to treat any person… you didn’t deserve it Y/n, you certainly didn’t.” – Colin told you. Benedict took your hand, placing a gentle kiss on it. – “She won’t harm you anymore Y/n. We’ll make sure of it.” – Your brothers helped you up to your feet, group hugging you so tightly you felt the warmth of their heart. – “You are worthy Y/n. You are enough.”

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[ya-world-challenge]

25 YA Books for Indigenous Peoples Day

NOTES: For brevity and diversity, I did not include all the North American Native books I found, but there are plenty more - feel free to post your favorites in the comments! Most books are from indigenous authors, but not all - do your own research if you like. Not all books may be “technically” YA. I’d love to hear more suggestions of Latin American indigenous stories or Hawai’ian native stories which were difficult to find.

EDIT: This is just a random list by a random tumblr blog from 2022 - get out there and find your own books or list some in the comments if you find this list lacking.

Australia

The Things She's Seen by Amebelin & Ezekiel Kwaymullina

The Boy from the Mish by Gary Lonesborough

Becoming Kirrali Lewis by Jane Harrison

Swallow the Air by Tara June Winch

Canada

The Missing by Melanie Florence

Sorrow's Knot by Erin Bow

Son of a Trickster by Eden Robinson

The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline

A Girl Called Echo by Katherena Vermette

Surviving the City by Tasha Spillett

Japan - Ainu

Golden Kamuy by Satoru Noda

Latin America

Saints of the Household by Ari Tison

Tree Girl by Ben Mikaelsen

The Huaca by Marcia Argueta Mickelson

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

The Lost Dreamer by Lizz Huerta

New Zealand - Maori

The Whale Rider, Witi Ihimaera

Falling into Rarohenga by Steph Matuku

United States

Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley

Trail of Lighting by Rebecca Roanhorse

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

If I Ever Get Out of Here by Eric Gansworth

Hearts Unbroken by Cynthia Leitich Smith

Rain is Not My Indian Name by Cynthia Leitich Smith

[postmodernbeliever]

not for a second longer - fox mulder x female reader (fluff)

fox is coming home from a case that's got him missing you like crazy, and you're (im)patiently waiting.

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my ao3 | word count: 3,070

content tags: dorks in love, fox mulder misses you, domestic fox mulder, fluff, domestic fluff, worry, romance, waiting, overthinking, fox is an idiot (/pos), reunited and it feels so good, just soft fluff that's all, cross-posted on ao3, mentions of murder/case material but briefly!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡

fox felt like if another second passed without hearing your voice, he might go insane, and this was a first- even for a complete lover boy like him. 

the agent has been away on a case for a few days. not much shorter or longer than any other work he’s done, but this time he couldn’t bear being far from home. he’d done everything just as he always does- there were no changes in the routine he’s tailored since he met you. he called every night to let you know he was safe and hear about your day, even if it was late and he woke you up by doing so; he’d remind you to feed his fish, and ask you about that nagging coworker who the two of you nicknamed hannibal because he always brought something creepily edible for lunch (the man ate steak tartare like his life dependent on it, honestly.) and you’d complain, like always, and you’d ask how his case was going, which would lead to him willingly divulging all kinds of classified information just for fun. you’d offer advice if you could. you weren’t as invested in the paranormal as he was, but you’d had your share of spooky stories, so your middle-of-the-road perspective helped at times. the phone call was always the same, but it didn’t matter what you talked about. he just wanted to hear your voice as badly as you did his, and it put you both at ease. so he called. 

like clockwork, fox admired the engraved backside of his watch before he fell asleep every night, where it said don’t keep me waiting. it was an inside joke that sparked when you’d first started dating. fox warned you up and down about how dangerous his job can be, how he’s been injured and in and out of hospitals and how multiple criminals are likely sitting on plans for his murder if they ever break out of incarceration. he prepared to see you get overwhelmed and leave him due to the potential stress; yet when he packed up for his first case, you kissed him softly, no fear to be felt, and told him not to keep you waiting because you couldn’t promise to keep his fishes alive while he was gone. the watch was last christmas’ gift, and he never took it off, especially when he was away. 

fox even kept with his dorky tradition of taking one of the many shirts you’d left at his apartment and sleeping with it under his pillow, where he could hold onto it and feel like he at least had a piece of you while he was alone. when you found out he did such a thing, you teased him brutally, and then you began leaving clothes in every corner of the apartment for him to save. and you left your spare perfume bottle in his bathroom cabinet, so he could concentrate them with you. 

the man took all the cheesiest precautions to make his work out of state bearable until he could solve the damned things and get back home, but even with all of his bases covered, it wasn't enough. something felt different this time. coming back to a motel every night, like he had for his whole career before he met you, was torture. every moment of the case strung him farther out. now, if you’d asked the lovely and level-headed dana scully why fox was so eager to be done with the case, she would’ve given you a plain and simple explanation: the two were investigating a string of seemingly unrelated murders by men unto their girlfriends, but fox had a suspicion that some kind of entity persuaded each man to kill the girl who kept their beds warm. and with every day that they didn’t track the cause down, he felt the pressing weight of your safety and how much he cared for you, and it was making him- as scully would kindly put it, of course- act out extremely irrationally. even you could put two and two together there, but he’d been a bit avoidant over the phone about this one job, so you didn’t know. fox refused to think about you in connection to the work, though, because to allow his brain to cross its signals and imagine you and him as victim and suspect (as a paranoid brain might) would just be stupid. but whether he meant to think of you or not, everything was putting him on edge by association, and he was itching to see you happy and healthy and still his. 

by the time fox deciphered that the newest date-night romantic comedy at the local movie theater was having midnight showings, and the ticket booth operator was a twenty-five year old involuntary celebate who was admitting loving couples into the place and watching them make out right in front of his jealous eyes, the case was a one-and-done. scully didn’t buy that the employee was telekinetically causing the boyfriends to kill, but the kid got shot in a police chase, so fox was left to his conclusions and she to hers. and he couldn’t drag her ass out of town fast enough. fox was two hours early to the airport. he bounced his leg on the entire flight home, and scully barely got a “see you tomorrow” out by the time he hailed a cab and ordered the driver to his address. 

his gut was twisting itself in knots, hoping you’d be home. you practically lived with him by how much time you spent at his apartment; the truth was that he was away so often, and you just couldn’t sleep unless you could curl up in his bed, with his pillows and blankets and wearing his clothes, and let everything that belonged to him comfort you until you got the man back himself. he knew you’d be there- it was nearly one in the morning. but still, after all this time staring at dead girls and thinking about how in love they were with the trusted boys who slit their throats, he just wanted to collect you into his arms and keep you there. 

you were wide awake because you knew he was on his way. you stayed up all night watching all the classic movies he had on tape, glancing at the clock, trying to stop obsessing over the unlikely crash of his plane. you were standing in his little kitchen, watching the tea kettle boil and listening to the fuzzy transatlantic accents yapping a room away, when the front door of the apartment swung open. 

you didn’t even have time to leave the kitchen. fox threw his bags down like a child and scurried to you, engulfing you in his arms; he drew your body snugly into his and buried his face in your shoulder. he was squeezing the air from your lungs, but you didn’t mind. you combed your fingers through his moussed-up hair, breaking up the curated clumps and reminding it of how it naturally fell against his head. he smelled just as he did when he left, like his ralph lauren polo green- minty and smoky, and so much himself. his soft leather jacket hung onto the smell of his taxi, but you ignored the staleness and inhaled the good stuff. 

“i missed you so much,” fox sighed. the man showered you with kisses all over your neck and jaw, traveling up the valleys of your cheeks to make sure he got your eyes and nose and forehead, too. you squirmed playfully and swatted at his hands, but he only smiled and fought you off.

“jeez, it’s like you thought i died or something!” you giggled. 

fox’s eyes flashed with something that looked like momentary worry, and then it was gone- replaced with a warmth you’d missed more than you realized the past few days. his arms were around you again, this time much gentler, and he asked, “you feel safe with me, don’t you?”

“what? fox, why would you even ask that? of course i do,”

“you know i’d never hurt you,”

“baby, you’re the only person in the world i feel safe with.” you promised, petting the back of his head softly, smoothing the hair down his neck. with both hands, you lifted his face from your shoulder and brought his face close, so you could look right into his ruminative eyes. the man smiled as your thumbs caressed the stubble growing in on his cheeks, those rounded teeth poking out beneath his top lip the way you adored. your chest fluttered, and you couldn’t help but return the gesture. 

“are you okay, baby?” you asked, knocking your forehead against his playfully. 

the man dipped his neck low and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. somehow it felt more intimate than if he’d truly kissed you; like by being an inch off base, he was saying more than the real thing could. he always did things like that, such small gestures that would go unnoticed if he was any other guy and you were any other girl, but every move fox made was conscious. each one was a choice that meant something. kissing you in such a way wasn’t a mistake, it was purposeful- he was proving his allegiance, ruling your mouth was more sacred and deserved to be earned. he was poetic in that respect, you knew it, and it made every hair on your body stand up. maybe that’s why you shifted your position and locked him in a normal kiss- a forceful one, at that. to remind him that you were nothing sacred, just someone who desperately loved him. 

you’d missed the way his lips molded to yours, the familiar chapped patches that came from his nervous biting, the way his scruff scratched your chin. you even missed the feeling of his breath as it blew out of his nose and across your face, warm and frequent, because he always seemed to breathe faster when you got close, like a teenage boy. you kissed him hard, letting your hands fall down his chest and press against his abdomen, remembering the sculpted curves of his stomach beneath his t-shirt. fox’s lips curled upwards as you touched him, and in those few moments of your neediness, he was sure you meant what you said before- that you truly did feel safe with him. 

when he pulled away, he brought the pad of his thumb to your plump bottom lip, holding you by the chin. “i’ve been going crazy without you, you know.”

“so have-” you began, but were cut off by the sudden screeching of the forgotten kettle behind you. both fox and yourself jumped, and you rushed to twist the knob on the stove, shutting the thing up in frustration. “sorry.”

“it’s okay,” the agent chuckled.

“you want some?” 

“only if you bring it over to the couch for me,” fox said, batting his eyelashes jokingly. 

“what am i, your mother?” you countered.

fox rolled his eyes and pressed another kiss to your lips, rebutting, “no, but you do love me, don’t you?”

“oh, shut up. go unpack.”

you listened to his footsteps as he went to retrieve his bags and haul them to his bedroom. smiling to yourself, you waited to hear him open the door and laugh. every time he came home, you left his bed an unruly mess and accumulated as many water cups on his nightstand as possible, and he had a love-hate relationship with it (mostly love, because he adored the idea of you living in his space.) a full-bodied sound came from the other side of the apartment, a hearty one, and a voice called, “impressive collection you’ve got in here!”

with two steeping cups of oolong you walked slowly back to fox’s living room, where his copy of vertigo had rewinded to the start. you settled into the couch, putting your feet up on the coffee table and watching jimmy stewart dangle from a drainpipe as you awaited your boyfriend’s return. it always took him a little while to unpack because it was more like repacking- he would swap out all his worn clothes with new ones and throw everything in the hamper, and he had to take out all his necessities only to keep them somewhere easy for him to grab come the next time work sends him away. you were used to waiting for him, but how he acted tonight was making you impatient. 

when fox was finally done and changed into a clean shirt and pajama pants, he headed towards the hallway to come and sit with you. but he paused when he came to the corner, making his steps quiet, so he could take a look at you undisturbed. you were slouched on his old, rickety couch, in clothes all belonging to him; a pair of old gray sweatpants that hugged your thighs, given they were a bit bigger than his skinny ones, his old oxford long sleeve that has a hole in the neck, and a frumpy blue grandpa-style cardigan he hasn’t worn in years. your hair was tucked away in an unraveling braid, with little locks fanning like leaves across the apples of your cheeks. your chipped nails cradled the mug in your palms, and the colors from the box television danced in the reflection of your chunky tortoiseshell glasses. he imagined you sitting like this while he was off on a case, at home in his home, watching his movies and wondering about him like he did of you late at night. you were so pretty and so important that he felt the love buzzing in his fingertips and toes.

the man came around the corner and sat down cautiously on the couch so as not to spill your tea. your face softened at his arrival, and you leaned forward to place your cup down and clamber back to him, throwing your arms around his neck. fox hoisted you onto his lap despite your objections, and he hugged you tighter. he just didn’t feel like letting you go tonight, it seemed. 

“did you eat?” you asked, looking down into those puppy eyes that gazed up. 

“a little while ago.”

“how long was a little while ago?”

“...ten o'clock this morning?” fox grinned sheepishly.

“fox! aren’t you starving? let me go heat something up, i got chinese last night-”

“shh, no, not yet,” he grabbed your hips as you tried to get off of him, “don’t go anywhere yet. sit for a minute.”

“but-”

“no buts. just sit with me a little longer and then i promise i’ll eat, okay?”

you sighed, only half-aggravated, and nodded softly. “alright, fine.”

you rested your head in the crook of his neck, your shoulder pressed to his; he twisted you a bit so you had a chance to look at the tv and sit on him at the same time. fox’s fingers traced mindless shapes against the fabric of his sweatpants on your knee, finally at ease. you stole a glance at him from the side and admired the way even his harshest features seemed to curve softly; his square jaw melted into his neck, his aquiline nose a pretty protrusion alongside his lashes that curled wildly. you always thought his face was the most deserving of marble preservation, far more than those ancient guys. 

“you're missing the movie,” he flushed. 

“i already watched it tonight.” 

the man nuzzled your forehead like a puppy, feeling his stomach flip as your palm rested flat against his chest. you snuggled right up to him and let out a heavy breath you didn’t know you were holding. the two of you sat quietly for a while, taking turns watching each other and remembering what it felt like to be close, and you were half-asleep in the comfort of his arms when his stomach growled and woke you up.

“i’m gonna go make you something,” you chuckled.

“awh, come on, you were just about to sleep!” he whined.

“fox, i want you to eat. once you have a little something then i’ll climb right back on you, promise,” you teased, pushing up off the couch.

“whatever,” he groaned, but there was a toothy smile behind the complaint, so you took it well. 

fox watched as you sauntered off to the kitchen, and he called after you, “hey, wait,”

“what?”

the man hopped off the couch and scrambled to the doorway, where you were only feet from the refrigerator. he stooped down and planted a smooch to your forehead, muttering an, “i love you.”

“just can’t leave my side now, hm?” you nudged fox’s nose with your own and gave him a look so fond it nearly melted him into a puddle on the kitchen tile. “i love you more. now beat it, spooky.”

“hey!”

“shush. go sit down and i’ll make it up to you later.”

‘you’re bossy,” fox crossed his arms, leaning against the wood molding and watching you move towards the fridge.

“well, if you’re not gonna leave, then at least get a pan for me to heat this rice up in, would you?” you ordered, shaking the day-old fried rice container in his face.

“anything for you, darling.”

being without each other could feel impossible at times. no matter how he tried, no set routine could recreate the feeling of falling asleep beside you; nor could any amount of his laundry could conjure fox himself to send you off to work with a kiss every morning. his work made it easy to miss him. but moments like this, where he watched you make him a late-night snack that he would share with you, were the moments that made all the waiting worth it. and the moments that will come after, too- the couch that was waiting for you both to come back to, where you’d fall asleep with your face against his neck, and where he’d fall asleep watching you breathe. nobody knew that absence makes the heart grow fonder more intimately than you two did. but even with that in mind, neither of you cared about that right now. 

he was simply thankful to be with you, the one he called home; thankful that he didn’t have to be without you for a second longer, and so were you.

[burntheedges-updates]

Over Again - main post & chapter list

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming.

or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)

18+ minors DNI

key themes: alternating timeline (2000-2003 / 2023-2024), 90s/00s country and latin music and dancing, romance, family vibes series tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, romance, light angst (plus the angst of thinking the other person is dead for 20 years, aka the TLOU norm), pet names (darlin’, baby, honey, pretty girl), small age difference (reader is 26, Joel is 32/almost 33 when they meet in 2000), no use of y/n, teacher!reader (with vague details), smut (I'll update specific warnings for each chapter, but just FYI for later chapters: Joel calls reader a good girl, neck grabbing (no breath play), a bit of manhandling and spitting, a lot of sex) (feel free to dm any specific questions) a/n about reader: I've paid a lot of attention to how the reader is described in this fic. I've avoided skin color, hair type, body shape/size descriptions, and even clothing (except for one or two spots where you are specifically wearing jeans and boots). You are vaguely shorter than Joel. He does not run his fingers through your hair, and you feel the blood rush to your face or your face heat, but you don't turn red or pink. Please tell me if you notice anything I missed - I want this to be as inclusive as possible. a/n: this is the first fic I've written in almost 20 years. this man, I swear. wordcount: 42.6k

This fic is completely finished and posted! Chapter links under the cut.

Read it on ao3

Bonus: Mix CD (plot related) & series playlist, with headcanons: here.

Chapter List

Five times you and Joel fell deeper in love…

Chapter 1 - Meet Cute - Jackson, Early Winter 2023 | Austin, Summer 2000

Now with art by the amazing @kittyoperas!!

Chapter 2 - Breaking the Ice - Jackson, Spring 2024 | Austin, Spring 2001

Chapter 3 - Dinner - Jackson, Spring 2024 | Austin, Spring 2001

Chapter 4 - First Date - Jackson, Spring 2024 | Austin, Spring 2001

Chapter 5 - Staying Over - Boston, September 26, 2003 | Jackson, Spring 2024

… and one time you did something about it.

Epilogue: Together - Austin, December 2002 | Jackson, Early Fall 2024

Outtakes and Snippets

Canned Heat (Austin, October, 2001)

Preview/sneak peeks: fic preview | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5

[marionluth]

Haven't done any dialogues in a while but I thought I'd post a snippet of my WIP flufftober fic. I feel a little silly posting this considering how small of a following I have, but hopefully some of you will like it and it just might make your lips twitch a bit. Can you guess who the new face is? 🤩

Damian didn't bother to hide the smile at the sound of Richard’s voice. Just like he didn’t stop Dick from pulling him into a tight hug or didn't reprimand him for calling him Dami. When his oldest brother tried to noogie him though, Damian immediately escaped the hold and landed a hearty punch on his shoulder. He had to draw the line somewhere.

Damian smirked at the pained utterance that escaped Richard. “Missed me, Grayson?”

“Of course I missed you, you little piece of Damian,” Grayson responded with a smirk. “It’s been more than a month.”

“And to think I’d actually pay for more than a month of not seeing him,” Jason’s voice rang in the room.

“You kidding? I’d pay for a single week,” Tim added, stepping in right behind Jason, and Damian rolled his eyes. Tim then threw Damian’s duffel bag on the floor, making sure it landed on his foot. “Next time carry your own bag, jerk!”

“But that’s a peasant’s job, Drake,” Damian said dryly. He considered informing them he’d gladly kill both of them so that they never had to see him again, period, but he knew Grayson wouldn’t approve. Nor would Father. Tt.

“No casualties on the road? I’m impressed.” Dick’s grin widened and he glanced at each of his brothers with that annoyingly fond expression that drove both Todd and Damian crazy.

“No casualties yet. We still have to drive back,” Todd pointed out, as he headed to the fridge. “I think I look forward to the little shit’s learner’s permit more than he does. Chauffeuring his ass around is way below my pay grade.”

“Kindly fuck yourself, Todd,” Damian snapped. “And don’t you all think it’s high time you quit the little shit jokes. I’m not ten anymore.”

Tim, who had followed Jason to the fridge, and snatched the last redbull before Todd could even reach for it, turned to shoot Damian a look, raising a single eyebrow.

“Are you still the youngest, D?”

“That is irrel–”

“Then you’re the little shit, little D,” Jason cut him off, a soda in hand and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Don’t worry, though, Dami. It’s been a hot minute since the last kid Bruce abducted—I mean adopted. I’m sure you’ll have to bid your ‘little shit’ title goodbye sooner rather than later,” Dick added.

Damian turned to glare at him. “Et tu, Brute?”

“Nice Latin there!”

Damian turned to look who the new voice belonged to and found himself staring at a face he hadn’t seen before.

“Gratias tibi ago,” Damian mumbled. He mumbled. He mumbled? Since when did he mumble? Damian sometimes muttered, quite often hissed, snapped and intoned, he occasionally graveled, he predominantly stated and deadpanned, but he never —never— mumbled. And was he just now internally rambling? He never internally rambled. What sorcery was this?

[daystarvoyage]

Luz Shouldve Been Dressed By A POC (Person Of Color Or Luz Batista To Show Better Cultural & POC Reprensation)

Hello Tumblers, This is kyoko cane of daystar voyage, as a proud black person who’s genderqueer who makes content creations On Pop culture such as Cosplay & drag, I do talk on Animation & Family Entertainment So glad to get this topic cause what we see on tv can be put into reality, Now (Disclaimer)

I will not accept hate on the daystar voyage anyone who can’t handle different opinions, ship whatever (unless legal) if not walk out or off this spaceship into a asteroid belt and black hole

Don’t hate appreciate.

One more thing I do love my girl Luz pilot outfits, there goals however wish they had time to put patterns into her clothes often, like I said in my hootview

However the female cast had a better closet then her, and I did discuss that in my video, for some time they did make her dress in a shonen archetype, (which I made a post about her hair) or an spicy Latina Which of of course personality wise too, (cause she’s made to be the gender non confirming character) but excuse all that cause in a way, the staff shoulda hired someone whos Either Afro, African American Or Latin to dress this girl.

Oh boy now that im done rewatching The Owl House there’s so much in store soon anyway,

I do feel its time to start this short post, I have a fashion hootview which is the intermission so there’s still a lot to come meantime, finished my rewatch of The Owl House as an animation lover,

Lets discuss this topic at hand,

2020s animators need to take notes on costuming & style tips to make characters stand out in environments and to treat there characters better in fashion or color coordination,

yes you can have a color coded character and not rely of a main palette to be able to bring out there features & complexion,

Animators need to take notes, how to properly show kids & there audience that good clothing could be put onto a character of any occasion & not have to rely on sexuality or Stereotype (Disney Programs have a hit or miss on certain shows.)

while proper fashion can do justice, that goes into making a franchise and making a product to sell for marketability in retail & consumers.

if the character or product can be sold with a great design if executed flawless by character, design, costuming, and the app that comes within the series,

This goes to the fandom cause there might be future artistsor small indie creators reading this who probably never read, or look up fashion brands, magazines either hot couture or brand clothing and don’t have that knowledge But that shouldn’t stop you from being able to experiment with different color palettes on what goes into your art.

The fandom needs a wake up call that not only is everything’s perfect and people have the right to critic and criticize a show or any form of art.

cause fandoms today has a self righteous way of bullying others of different opinions and ostracizing others and ithas to stop,

Here’s a quick tv trope in color-coded characters, & a Toonsmag article on fashion in animation.

Marketability is a important factor, industries rely on that to make the money off of that series, be a cartoons or projects,

it impacts the character and representation that kids see when they purchase said item and teaching kids, see good representation within media can matter if done right.

Especially POCs if executed well however

DONW BELOW in some cases miraculous ladybug fumbles it hard, at one point had all the poc of color (EXAMPLE limited to alya and nino if not max be lighter tones on there merch.)

You know lighting character's skin tones like Alya and other brown or dark skin characters, on their products & merch (bad ethnic representation award goes to them).

Not to mention the whole Vas underpaid controversy, that’s been discussed countless times.

(still disappointed about there business decisions)

I appreciate the love of anyone who can view and read this article if you gotten this far,

thanks for reading make sure to check my Tumblr and YouTube vlog cause so much of this particular series I’m gonna debunk

The show had a-lot going for it however feel flat including in the fashion department along miraculous ladybug that’s another thing to be discuss OH BOY so anyway

here’s an example of the video game art of Guilty Gear showing great costume progress years later

always educate yourself cause I do want my platform to show variety on what I offer creatively and semi-education-wise to be able to let people be inspired and that you don't need to follow trends, thank you very much seeya on the next space voyage.

[tired-and-unjellied]

Hi! I'm still having high blood pressure and fever. Being diabetic is awful .Help me get what I need so when I leave I can stay healed and get better today. #Type1Diabetes 😭. I'm a disabled mom so can't work after I had an accident. I've a spinal cord problem ..my blood sugar is high and I'm last to my pen, i need insulin to save my life and medical care for the past 2 months.

This is a life-threatening situation.share widely & donate 🙏

That seems to be a scam

"I still have [...]" who even are you? That's a new account.

no original post except the pinned post requesting for donations

no reblog since the last post (July 24)

all reblogs are directly from the poster; no intermediate

#gofundme but there is only a PayPal link

#free palestine despite saying they're a latine (I guess it would be Mexico or the US?)

they found a small blog to ask this; despite no prior interaction. (I have seen none of those posts she reblogged)

@kyra45 @anonthescambuster (I found nothing through the tumblr search, I really hope I didn't miss your post if you did one)

[japeneselunchtimerush]

Continutation of my previous post but its just incorrect quotes.

Kise: what's a word that's a mix between angry and sad?

Akashi: malcontented, disgruntled, miserable, desolated

Aomine: smad

Akashi: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. 

Aomine and Kise: Ours just say “No.” 

Akashi: And I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

Mayuzumi: you played me like a fiddle

Bokushi: actually, fiddles are quite difficult to play. I played you like a cheap kazoo

Akashi: Kuroko, please keep an eye on Kise. He's gonna say something to Midorima and get himself punched.

Kuroko: Sure Akashi-kun, I'd love to see Kise get punched.

Akashi: Try again.

Kuroko: I will stop Kise from getting punched.

Akashi: Correct.

Akashi: oh, are you and Kise no longer…

Aomine: smushing booties?

Akashi: …yes that’s exactly how i was going to phrase my sentence, Aomine.

Bokushi talking to Nash: you think you can just bully people, but you can’t. it’s not okay.

Bokushi: i’m the bully around here. ask anyone.

Bokushi: i only feel one emotion, and it’s indifference.

Oreshi: last night you drunk-texted the whole team a bunch of heart emojis.

Bokushi: ...indifferently.

Murasakibara: i really miss these people, the whole team. Aka-chin, Mido-chin…

Murasakibara: …i forget all their other names.

Himuro: *judgemental eyebrow raise*

Midorima: You know archaic Latin?

Akashi: I got bored with classical Latin.

Midorima: You know normal Latin?

Akashi: Yeah someone from my knitting club taught me.

Midorima: YOU HAVE A KNITTING CLUB?

Akashi: You don't know everything about me Midorima. Now do you want a sweater or a scarf?

Momoi: 'You'll never find the body' is such a boring threat. A better threat would be; 'You'll never stop finding the body.'

Akashi, bored: Or just say, 'They'll be finding parts of you for at least four months...and you'll still be alive for three of them.'

Momoi: Now that's a threat!

The rest of the GoM: *horrified silence*

Murasakibara: do you think I could fit fifteen marshmallows in my mouth?

Midorima: ...you are a hazard to society

Aomine: and a coward. do twenty

[Akashi after the GoM do something really stupid but he's running on t-2 seconds of sleep and a cup of tea]

Akashi : I am offended. I am angry. I am very tired. So I am gonna take a nap but when I wake up, oh you are *in* for it.

The GoM:...

Four hours later...

Akashi: How. DARE. You!

Kuroko: remember how furious you got that time when Aomine ended a letter with "thx" instead of "thanks"?

Akashi: why would you bring this up??

Himuro: So,Shuu , tell us everything! Did you call Akashi’s dad first?

Nijimura: I actually did!

*time skip back*

Nijimura, on the phone: Mr Akashj? I’m calling to inform you that I plan to ask your son to marry me. But since it’s 2016 I am NOT asking for your permission since he is not your property. NOR WOULD HE BE MINE IF HE CHOOSES TO SAY YES! He’s a strong independent man and he don’t need no man! That being said I truly hope he says yes. But it’s HIS decision so just BACK OFF!

Hinuro: aww, that was perfect! What did he say?

Nijimura: I have no idea I left a voicemail I’m terrified of him.

[Back at it again with the nijiaka]

Bokushi: Wait you like me?

Mibuchi: Yes

Bokushi: ... for my personality?

Mibuchi: I was surprised too

[h0neytalk]

Practicing the Arabic Alphabet

I honestly lucked out so much taking Arabic in college and learning basic MSA reading/writing/grammar from an excellent professor but I’m gonna compile the most useful things we did in class here to help people learning on their own (this isn’t focused on resources, just strategies, might do a separate post with worksheets and videos but they’re pretty easy to find):

Get the alphabet in front of you. We had a packet with a page for every letter with the letter written in the three positions, pronunciations, names, and lines to trace and write like 100 times. And then a page with all the diacritics. These sheets abound for free online. Make yourself an alphabet packet. Watch copious videos/listen to recordings going over the letters and how they sound. Repeat it back. Work in chunks and don’t move to the next set until you can recognize and write the current set.

Tracing! Learn to write the letters right to left and with the proper order from day one. This sounds obvious but people in my class were still drawing letters left to right as isolated shapes next to each other so idk maybe it’s not. Having nice handwriting in Arabic is both satisfying and absurdly helpful. Learn how the letters connect. Spend more time than you think is necessary on this.

Write English words and sentences phonetically using diacritics and Arabic letters. Do not worry about translation and spelling. Just make the connection between shape -> sound. Use anything you have. Lists of names, entire pages from books and magazines, texts from friends, menus. Literally anything. Work through how to make those words with the new alphabet. You will learn a surprising amount about the language and pronunciation by doing this. How do you translate sounds that don’t exist? What about multiple sounds where English only has one? Read it back with the accent.

Transcribe English phonetically. Same as above but do it without the English in front of you and just listening. Make that voice to visual connection.

Hand write word lists once you get to vocab. Then type them on your laptop and phone (if you want to be able to type in Arabic, also highly recommend a keyboard cover with the letters next to the Latin alphabet). Copy all the diacritics even though that’s not necessarily how native speakers do it. I have a notebook that looks like it belongs to lunatic toddler because it just has the same words and snippets written over and over again lmao.

Finally, transcribe Arabic. If you can use something with a transcript or captions to check your work even better! But don’t check for perfect spelling, check you used mostly the right letters and marks. You will definitely smash some words together and miss a silent or elided letter or something but try and hear the difference between ع and ا or ق and ك etc. The more sources you use the better.

We did this for one full semester of 50 minute classes 3 times a week while sprinkling in some basic vocab towards the second half. It felt like forever at the time but I never lost my ability to phonetically read and write in Arabic despite 4 years of complete non-use while living in America in an area without any significant Arabic-speaking population or language presence. It is absolutely CHISELED into my brain.

[exhuastedpigeon]

hiii, i just saw your tags on a post about catholicism and I know you watch 911, so i was wondering if you wouldn't mind sharing your thoughts on how you'd like to see 911 handle the whole Eddie is a lapsed catholic and has catholic guilt and is now dating a former almost-nun. do you think eddie's going to have a moment of "oh, actually i want to do mass and confessions again because thanks to my lovely girlfriend marisol, ive found my faith again"?

ANON I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED! I'm going to put some of my own experiences under the cut at the end of this ask because I think the context is at least a little important.

I think someone like @monsterrae1 will also have a ton of insight into this as another recovering Catholic and as someone from a Latin Catholic background that's probably similar to Eddie's.

Now to my take:

When they brought in Marisol's backstory of being a novice nun I laughed so hard I fell out of my chair and then I got really excited because bringing religion into Eddie's story is, in my opinion, the most obvious path for Eddie's queer awakening and an arc where Eddie unpacks a lot of his catholic guilt and repression.

If Eddie goes back to Church, which I think he might based on Bobby's advice not because of Marisol, I don't think it's going to be a 'oh wow I missed this!' moment, I think it would be the start of a journey where Eddie realizes how impacted he is by Catholic guilt and how even if he hasn't gone to church in years, it's impacted so many aspects of his life.

Eddie saying he's a manchurian catholic and has a reservoir of catholic guilt he didn't realize was there was so funny to me because that man doesn't even realize how his catholic guilt has impacted his life. Every time he ignores his own feelings for other people. every time he tries to do what he thinks people want of him instead of what he wants. every time he shoved down his feelings to 'do what's right' that's catholic guilt, baby.

My personal feelings on it are that Eddie is going to realize that he's been repressing a lot about himself... like maybe his sexuality. He's been comphet coded for years. From the panic attack of Ana being called his wife to saying dating feels like a performance to what he said last episode about the church being a big reason he and Shannon got married. (This isn't to say he didn't love Shannon because he did, we know how much he did even after their relationship was dead in the water).

I think we'll probably get an Eddie/Marisol breakup in the next few episodes - likely triggered by Eddie realizing he's maybe not straight and maybe he needs to figure himself out. Or maybe because he still can't get it up around her because of the nun reveal. Or maybe for some other reason - like maybe Marisol is a little homophobic.

They're setting up a perfect 'queer repressed Eddie' arc. They've set it up since before the move to ABC, even if they didn't do it on purpose.

I don't think it's going to be an easy journey for Eddie though. He's probably go so much internalized homophobia inside of him. He's got so much to unlearn and so much he needs to learn to love about himself. That's one of the reasons I hope Tommy sticks around - he's someone Eddie could lean on and learn from because he came out later in like - he came from a similar background with the military - he's someone Eddie could trust with that.

Now, a little backstory on my own relationship with Catholicism before I dive in - I was raised very Catholic, church every Sunday, Catholic school (uniform and all) from kindergarten all the way to high school, I was confirmed, I was my sister's confirmation sponsor, I was an alter server, I was a lead in my high school's church choir.

But my Catholic background is also not the exact same as Eddie's. He specified he comes from Latin Catholics and that's an important distinction because different cultures have a different approach to Catholicism. I'm originally from the states and while I'm not Irish-American or Italian-American but, I was raised in a very Irish and Italian neighbourhood (lots of first and second gen immigrant folks) and have probably a more 'Irish-American/Italian-American Catholic' perspective.

I am not practicing anymore and have gone to so much therapy for what my therapist calls 'religious trauma' because Catholicism, my teachers, and some of my priests, made me hate myself for existing even before I knew why I hated myself. Catholicism and the way they speak about queer people and the way they speak about sex is extremely regressive and when you learn about it from a very young age, you internalize that.

I also experience guilt when I do basically anything for myself that isn't beneficial to other people. You're made to feel selfish for having needs. I just... don't like organized religion because of my experience with the church.

I spent like 21 years hating myself and feeling tremendous guilt about my feelings towards women and every time I would kiss a girl I would play if off as 'oh haha it's just for laughs' because Catholic. One of my best friends in university once said to me, "I'm gay, but I'm catholic so I'm straight". He's now married to a woman and has a kid and every time I see him he looks worse and sadder. He struggles with addiction, likely because he's trying to numb himself. I think any religion that makes someone feel that way is toxic.