#i think it is perhaps what could be described as 'mania' but which is so infrequent it isn't disordered

[rufusx2]

thinking more of my "autumn headspace" so to speak a thing that happens within me only during the autumn season typically end of august to mid october in which my mind is completely free of my material shackles and i become completely and totally convinced that i can become a different person overnight i am overcome with not only a want for life and a hope for the future but i actually do make changes and i feel things much more deeply than usual, but with an air of detachment from it as if i am not quite out of body but definitely not in it either. a sort of overlap between us both? i dont recall much but i remember crying at night but being so fervent during the day. jaw clenching and shaking and buzzing with that energy. in fact i would honestly describe it as more of a high energy phase than anything else- i would be genuinely unstoppable if i could trigger it on purpose, or choose to live like that permanently. it feels as if there is a haze of gold placed over my vision when i look back in my memories. and this with comes the burning need to walk and keep my body moving. during this time a coworker described be as a "busy body" and he was absolutely right. when i was a teenager this would manifest in me going on hours-long bike rides until i could taste blood in my mouth from moving so fast, and now i wander the nearby neighborhoods turning on random corners until i can't walk any more. i am like a shark compelling to swim and i just can't stop. and it is amazing. i think so many things and while i still think while i walk it's always a bit duller now. i remember walking out in the autumn not caring if i had work later and not adjusting my hair or bothering to check my posture. i would stare at myself in the shadow i left on the sidewalk only. of course i also at one point felt as if the blank walls of my bedroom were going to swallow me up but i have posters up now. i think up countless ideas, and can only try to match that intensity and continue my projects during the rest of the year. i rarely think of new ideas in spring summer or winter. and the thing about fall i think is not just the general "vibe" of it all. because i could easily replicate that by watching over the garden wall or listening to my Autumn bands or putting up my halloween stuff at different times of year. but i think the crispness of the air and the leaves falling off the trees and the relief of being over with summer fuels me. i go for walks in spring sure but the warmth and wetness of the air distracts me from falling into this. while it rains in autumn, it's dry whenever it isn't (which is why it's part of wildfire season). but going back to my detachment. i find it freeing. of course i am still plagued by daily anxieties, but it's more manageable i suppose? or at least, it doesn't happen as frequently. but the main thing that brings me artistic inspiration (or at least, HAS brought me artistic inspiration for this project specifically), is this idea of the Ideal self. how i can become a new person, and change who i am fundamentally. it's futile of course, but for the duration of this phase i really do do it. and i know i'm doing it because other people like me more. every job i have ever had, i got hired in autumn. i am calmer. i think differently. i do things that i cannot do otherwise. and i try so hard to keep this up but i just cant. again, not in my nature. but i feel as if i can change my nature during those few short months a year. and i feel less trapped by this body. and of course this can tip very quickly into self hatred which i have gone into before on this blog (it's what is meant by 'WWJD' and killing the old self to be reincarnated as the new self) but i still cannot help but wish i knew how to trigger it. what drugs can do this to you? i would trade this sober mind for her any day of the week.

[gatheringbones]

[“I managed to get out in three months. While out on parole for Christmas, I begged my father not to send me back. In another of our few tender moments, he caved. And he was the one who went to collect my stuff from this place. He returned so shaken he couldn’t talk about it beyond mumbled regrets. He’d never actually seen the place. These mumblings marked a third tender moment.

I had a reprieve, but not for long. I still hadn’t learned my lesson. The cure hadn’t worked. And I was still under the care of this same shrink, which meant still seeing Beth. I made the same gaff, telling Beth about yet another woman, and again she reported back. My father, having been informed, made his last strategic strike. This time he told the shrink that his sister was manic-depressive, and perhaps I was, too. Eureka, they’d solved it, solved me.

Once more I was called into the shrink’s office. I listened to a masterful pitch for Lithium. He made it sound like a drug addict’s dream. That it would allow me to manipulate my mood at will. Next he described me as a Virginia Woolf type time bomb. I’d certainly kill myself by forty. Now I was some kind of suicidal genius. But through the miracle of Lithium I could be saved. The flattery worked, the pitch worked. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Took another script to the drug store, this time believing in magic.

I didn’t know you needed a blood test for dosage, but presumably the shrink did. For the next ten days I didn’t eat or sleep. No need to, this stuff made me high as a kite. Unlike most actual manic-depressives, I had no experience with mania. And while I’d done speed, of course, and coke, downers were always more my thing. I’d never gone so hyped for so long. You could say my judgment was a bit impaired. This set the stage for the last act.

The shrink suggested I sign myself into a hospital, just for a couple of weeks to stabilize the dosage. Even impaired, I didn’t immediately bite. So Beth was brought in for bait. Unlike me, she’d learned her lesson, was on board this time, though I didn’t know it yet. She coaxed me and I began to waver. I don’t remember why, but I was at my brother’s house when I called her. I do remember I was alone, staring into his kitchen, which had this amazing pile-up of empty Dewars bottles. The same scotch my parents drank by the gallon. The sight of all those bottles seemed to be what made me call.

It was night, a Friday, I think. I know Reagan had just been elected to his first term. Time had passed. I’d later joke it was his election that tipped me over. Beth came and picked me up. Took me to this place. I signed myself in. My parents didn’t even know. The weekend meant two more days of no sleep or food, even so I realized I’d made a mistake, a big one—been duped.

My father bailed me out, took me home. That might have been that, but it wasn’t. I was still on the stuff—the lithium. By now it’d turned me into some punk girl version of Travis Bickle. For reasons I don’t recollect, I was wearing army fatigues, combat boots, and a lot of those heavy silver biker rings. My mother was in the kitchen cooking dinner. My father and I were watching the news. As my kind of luck would have it, Cambodia, perhaps then still Democratic Kampuchea, was news that night—the Khmer Rouge, Pal Pot, the killing fields—they were dredging it all up again, showing old footage.

That’s all it took. The fuse was lit. The only question now was who’d explode first—me or Dad. I think it might’ve been simultaneous combustion. But he was the one on his feet first. When I hit him, I believed it was self-defense. If I hadn’t been wearing the damn rings, I might not have done damage.

My mother tried to break it up—a first. Somehow she and I wound up on the stairs. But how she fell, honestly I don’t know. I only know I didn’t intend to hurt her. I think I was just trying to get her attention. She wasn’t badly hurt, not physically. But she sat at the foot of those stairs yelling she never wanted me inside their house again. Meanwhile my father was on the phone to the cops—or rather a cop. A friend/employee of his. This guy drove me back to the snake pit. This time they took my jewelry, hell, they took everything. This time they doped me to the gills. This time it was progress when I finally got out of a tiny cell to roam a locked ward with women who’d had lobotomies, and I assure you I’m not exaggerating.

I’ll spare you the gorier details. Things you’d expect but might not believe. After all, nobody believed Martha Mitchell either, at least not until it was way too late to do her any good. So let’s just say that given the condition of the other inhabitants, I was a real find for the night nurse. She made a bundle pimping me to the orderlies. I did eventually engineer my release, aided and abetted by a young woman working in occupational therapy. She was the only person who knew or rather cared that I didn’t belong there. She coached me.

For added insurance I managed to get a guy I knew to come pose as my boyfriend. We went so far as to announce our engagement, and I was released shortly after. At the time I believed the engagement stunt was what cinched it. Now I assume it had less to do with the insurance I’d arranged than with my parents’ Blue Cross, which no doubt had been bilked to the max.

The doctor who released me was the same one who’d been there the night I’d signed myself in. I hadn’t seen him or any doctor since, save the one time he’d called on me to act as playmate for a wealthy woman friend of his who was there taking a much-needed rest from the jet-set. If my whole time there had been like that one week with her—good booze, good drugs, good food, and good sex—I might never have left. But it wasn’t. It was a beautiful fluke amidst grueling ugliness.

As this guy released me, he laughed, even gloated about the amount of Thorazine he’d managed to pump into me. I’d remember the number. Again, I learned from a book that this dose was more than double what was considered safe for an actual psychotic. I got the point. I resolved never again to display an emotion, never again to state an opinion, and never again to fall in love with a woman.

Needless to say, I got away from my family. But I still kept those resolutions for nearly two years. The first two fell away first. The last one was lost to a woman I’ll call Ingrid. And while falling for Ingrid would begin yet another sordid story, it’s the end of this one.”]

heather lewis, from richard nixon and me, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

[zerothejackal]

silly theory time!

OKAY SO :) the phantom ruby is technology of the ancients, bear with me!!

Basically my idea is formed cus know the ancients were really knowledged on how to utilize the chaos emeralds, right? most of their technology is dependant on the chaos emeralds or otherwise relies on them to function; staying in a sort of "stand by" mode when the emeralds had been removed from the starfall islands for eons.

we also know that despite knowing about the chaos emeralds, as they seemed to come from their planet, the ancients didn't seem to be able to use the true potential of the emeralds, relying in using them to fuel their machines. not much different from eggman and how he uses, or how G.U.N. and he use chaos drives.

So what if the ancients, for one reason or another discovered what the chaos emeralds were truly capable to, perhaps thanks to a vision, since we know chaos emeralds and the master emerald may be able to give clairvoyance to people (See the murals in angel island depicting the fight at the end of Sonic 3, or the scene in Origins where Sonic sees a vision of west side island.), so what if they tried to... find a way to use these powers.

perhaps they were unable to unlock the chaos powers of the emeralds, that miracle they are able to grant, because their bodies were simply incompatable, we know there are species out there made for chaos energy, like the black arms, and others that mmmmaaayyyy be incompatable entirely like the wisps.

but the ancients were a super high-tech species, able to take much more power from a single emerald thant what eggman had been able to take from the master emerald before (given base form sonic had been able to take one of his robots fueled by the M.E. before, without going super), so it's not far fetched to think they would be able to, like tails, and eggman, create replicas of the chaos emeralds.

this is where the phantom ruby comes at play.

the phantom ruby shares several traits with the chaos emeralds, specially one major trait which is to modify reality itself. as well as how the M.E. (in the paramountverse) is described to be able to turn thoughts into power (and i believe this is true for the unlimited potential of the super form in any canon).

The phantom ruby literally transfroms thoughts into power, casting the thoughts of its wielder into reality, the ruby is also capable of space-time transportation as seen in the ruby mist of ruby mania, and the vortex that takes sonic into egg reverie zone and then into the modern world. (it's also worth mentioning that although they both entered at around the same time, classic sonic arrived in the modern world roughly almost a year after the ruby did.)

not unlike the emeralds the ruby can also create visions to whoever touches it, although that while the emeralds reveal to sonic (in the origins cutscene) the location? or just a visage of west side island, things of a person's futue; the phantom ruby shows it's host what they most desire, possibly as a "promise" of what they could do wielding the ruby.

and, just like the emeralds, the phantom ruby clearly has a certain sentience of it's own.

and although extremely chaotic and volatile, the phantom ruby seems to be able to interact with chaos energy. it's volatile energy causes angel island to fall (this is probably because just the master emerald's presence allows it to flow, sort of like if the M.E. only needed the slight energy radiation it has to elevate the whole island, and si not actively keeping it afloat with too much power)

and it also reacts to the chaos emeralds spinning around it, we know the chaos emeralds spin in circles seemingly to communicate or share chaos energy, they do it when they will disperse across the world, before turning someone super, etc.

However as seen in the sonic mania ending: the phantom ruby reacts volatily and negatively to this, losing what it seems to be most of it's power (The overclocked ruby in forces turns magenta and has white energy stripes... like the normal sprite of the ruby in mania, so it's sort of safe to say the it lost energy between Mania and Forces), and shaking/twitching when in pressence of the emeralds.

my point being: the phantom ruby shares too much similarities with the chaos emeralds, but seems to leave these world-shattering powers more accessible to any host of it, while the emeralds cannot be wielded by anyone.

oh and let's also not forget the similarities between the cyber spaces of the ancients and the special zones of the emeralds... AND HOW THE PHANTOM RUBY IS ABLE TO ALSO CREATE IT'S OWN REALMS! LIKE EGG REVERIE ZONE (which already looks a lot like a special stage of sorts, just unfinished), and NULLSPACE (wich... strange dimension where you can only get out from running and has an aesthetic of having floating energy and cubes thingies floating? LIKE THE CYBER SPACES?!)

oh also; let's also-also not forget how similar the phantom ruby glitches are to the cyber corruption!

MY THEORY HERE: being that the ancients created the phantom ruby, or at least were working on the phantom ruby before The End found them again, not letting them exactly finish their creaton.

I think that the ancients were developing a way to use the power of chaos against The End, but it found them before they could ever finish it, that's why the ruby it's extremely volatile and reacts aggresively against the chaos emeralds.

once the ancients were gone the ruby simply could've went missing, we know the emeralds and M.E. left the starfall islands, and stayed (or at least the M.E. did) in the safe haven the ancients had built in what one day would become angel island

while the emeralds were used by different civilizations across the world, like the south island and est side island civilizations.

so that even can explain the fact the phantom ruby had been "missing" for a long time, perhaps it's volatile nature didn't allow it to stay "forgotten" for too much time.

[imfallingimflying]

Movement, voices talking, waves, wind, cold. I see it all at the same moment, a tired but so very open world of mist and gray and water and more and more and more. I'm exhausted but my eyes are so open, they couldn't be dry, the mist seeps under my eyelids and ensures I never have to blink again. I let out a shaky breath, it turns to white vapor, floating to the right half of my face, then dissipating into nothing. Perhaps it mixes with the mist, forming one giant being that lies and sleeps atop the waves, a giant bigger than the sea. Its terrifying to think about, my breath, as small and quiet as it is, being a part of this huge thing. A hivemind, surely, it all must move as one, folding and twisting and churning and boiling and bubbling. The water laps at my feet, sending me into freezing shock. I inhale quickly as water touches between my toes and chills the nerves that line my ankles and lower legs. It sits in the bottom of my sandals, keeping the bottom of my feet icy. Then it pulls back, leaving the soles wet and my toes curled. I feel electric, like I'm ready to run, to sprint or swim. I don't think I know which. If I run along the beach, it might end. But if I run along the water, swim into the waves which call me and touch me as gently as a mother, I would never find such a thing. An insult, really, to ensue the water has an ending, a finality to it. Truly it could never, it fills the deep crevices of land, deeper past we could possibly imagine. For all we know, our globe is filled with it. The roiling, bubbling deep which knows darkness far beyond any darkness we could perceive. Who knows what's down there. Huge beasts, taller than skyscrapers, like islands, no, continents that move underneath you. The ocean bigger still, isn't even affected, you wont feel but a wave touch you, move you, despite the massive beast which churns the water below.

I suggest to myself, in this moment of contemplation and mania, that the ocean could swallow you then. If we're being honest with ourselves, the sea could swallow us all whenever it deems necessary. At any moment, the waves, the rain, the cold, could push islands under and suffocate cities should it want to. We try to fool ourselves by believing we are above it. "We breathe air, not water!" Yet they aren't very different, are they? The sky is blue because the ocean is blue and the sky and the ocean are so so very big. Vast. Large. The words die at the shoreline, they can't even begin to claim their size. Gargantuan. Perhaps a bigger word would suffice? No, never. It couldn't. You'd need lectures, paragraphs upon paragraphs upon paragraphs of describing their size. You'd barely even touch the surface.

I pause, my heart racing, and squint into the horizon, or where I think it should have been. The gray fog mixes with the gray water and I can't see where one ends and one begins. I think that terrifies me most. More than their size, more than their weight, god the weight. The thought that at any moment, the air I breathe could betray me. Fill my lungs with salty black water and choke me standing. My throat tightens and I grip the necklace around my neck. It isn't special, not nearly. But it grounds me. Holding something so very small in comparison. For a moment, I see myself from outside of me. Looking down on myself, of course, I look so small. Then I consider the being that scares me so and I suggest looking at myself from it's perspective. The view which looks down at me in my head pulls back. I look even smaller, but it's not enough. Back, back, back it pulls, eventually I fade away into a dot, a speck. A grain of sand among the millions on the beach that still do not even hold a candle to the sea.

A hand touches my shoulder and I pull in a sudden breath. "Hey, you okay? I saw you zoning out there for a sec. We're about to go swimming if you want to come. I know it's cold, but when else is the beach going to be this quiet?"

I swallow and consider it.

"I-I'm okay, thanks. I actually think I'll head back home now."

[hergan416]

Chapter 3 and there has been a time skip, and Dorian Gray is reading the books in Lord Henry's library, waiting for Lord Henry when instead Lady Henry comes in.

I am going to quote this interesting paragraph, then talk about it.

"Ah! that is one of Harry's views, isn't it Mr. Gray? But you must not think I don’t like good music. I adore it, but I am afraid of it. It makes me too romantic. I have simply worshipped pianists,—two at a time, sometimes. I don't know what it is about them. Perhaps it is that they are foreigners. They all are, aren't they? Even those that are born in England become foreigners after a time, don't they? It is so clever of them, and such a compliment to art. Makes it quite cosmopolitan, doesn't it? You have never been to any of my parties, have you, Mr. Gray? You must come. I can't afford orchids, but I spare no expense in foreigners. They make one's rooms look so picturesque. But here is Harry! Harry, I came in to look for you, to ask you something, I forget what it was. And I found Mr. Gray here. We had such a pleasant chat about music. We have quite the same views. No: I think our views are quite different. But he has been most pleasant. I am so glad I've seen him."

First of all, I want to talk a bit about Lady Henry. She is the first truly nervous character in the text. She is described as having a nervous laugh, and also begins to fidget with an object partway through her short conversation with Dorian Gray. Her clothing is described as haphazard, like she doesn't quite understand how to be fashionable, and the text says she has a "perfect mania for going to Church." While she makes several contradictory statements, unlike when Lord Henry does so, it lacks the elegance and learned refinement that mask Lord Henry's typical nonsense. She speaks hesitantly, as though she requires Dorian's agreement with each statement, ending each statement with a question. And, once Lord Henry enters the scene, it seems both Dorian Gray and Lord Henry see her as more than a bit silly, and perhaps the reader is meant to agree with that.

But there is actually quite a bit in common with her and with Lord Henry and with Dorian Gray. Take for example, the foreigners at her parties.

I'm going to step back a bit to the description of the library that the scene is placed in. While the annotations clarify that Wilde's descriptions of Lord Henry's library meet Wilde's own qualifications about interior design, and focus on the descriptor as useful for figuring out that the book belongs to the aestheticism movement in art that Wilde belonged to, I instead am drawn to how utterly...colonial it all is? Wilde's theory of interior design focuses on finding things you enjoy and that are beautiful and decorating your home with them without regard to cost (in that inexpensive things are not inherently worse for decoration than expensive things.) But really, to me, what sticks out not only about this library, but also about Basil Hallward's tea set, which has parts from at least two countries, towards the end of chapter two, is that these things are from far off "foreign" places that England or it's trading partners had colonized.

So whether it be foreign things or foreign people, Lord Henry and his wife do indeed share some common interest.

With his description of the library, Wilde make an effort to describe Lord Henry to be seen as worldly and fashionable, but with a taste for art that Victorian society might consider risqué (especially based on several of the books in the library). This is in contrast to his much more typical Victorian wife.

However, she is afraid of music, and the art, because she is afraid of the consequences of falling too much in love with the artist should she enjoy herself too much. I gather that she probably represents a person that many readers might agree with. There could be danger in too much pleasure. There could be danger in art. There is corruption everywhere.

Yet she describes the same sensation that consumes Dorian Gray with Sibyl Vane later in the book with her piano players. She still does what Dorian Gray does. With these statements, I'd argue she pulls the Victorian reader closer to Dorian Gray's level, making them empathize with some of his first mistakes.

[asylos]

Dracula Daily Responses (Aug 17-21)

Previous Days on AO3

August 17

I had hoped the two days that had passed without messages would have been pleasant ones, but it seems it was not so. Miss Lucy seems to be falling ill, but with no clear reason why that my friend Mina can see.

A letter here as well from some solicitors. This seems to be about the transfer of the Count’s boxes to the property that my dear friend Jonathan had arranged. Fifty boxes. Why does he need so many? There is a great deal of urgency in their movement. 

August 18

Mina is in better spirits today. Miss Lucy’s recounting of the night Mina found her out on their seat is an odd one, and brings to mind the astral projection stories of the mediums and other spiritualists. How very strange. I am glad however that they are having a happier time together. I know poor Mina could use some respite from the constant worries assailing her from every direction. 

August 19

Finally! The news has reached Mina, and she prepares to go to Jonathan. Mr. Hawkins has suggested that she marry Jonathan there, before they return to London. I wonder why. Does he worry Jonathan’s health is worse than the letter indicates? Or perhaps he feels it would be less stressful on my dear friend to have a private ceremony over in foreign lands then to try to arrange something back home with the trappings of family worried over his condition. 

Dr. Seward’s voice startled me from my reading. It seems his patient Renfield is up to something. He says the attendant set to watch the man describes it as a form of religious mania, and the patient speaks of a “master” who is at hand. His attempts to find the cause of this change in the man were fruitless, and it left him in a melancholy, which was only furthered as he found himself thinking of “what ifs” regarding his rejected proposal to Miss Lucy. And it seems the doctor has been finding solace in the use of drugs… not a good solution by any means. 

Sometime later in the night the patient escaped - making a break for the grounds next door, the grounds that are none other than the ones purchased by the Count! The doctor and his men found the patient begging for his unseen Master at the door and fought with great strength when they tore him away. Has the Count somehow enslaved this man, before he had even reached the shores? What other servants could lie in wait to do his bidding…

August 20

Dr. Seward continues to watch his patient, and is noticing patterns in his behaviour. I fear he is taking great risks with his safety, and the safety of others with his plans. He intends to allow Renfield to escape again to see what the man will do. This is a dangerous risk. He knows the dreadful, maddened strength and violence the patient has been displaying, and yet he still thinks this is a plan worth enacting…

August 21

The Count’s boxes have been delivered. And with them, the Count?

[comicscourse]

Defining Yuri, June 2023

Introduction 

While manga, whether we talk about shonen, shoujo or seinen, often displays elements that are distinct from Western literature, as a whole it is easily recognizable. You can use the same tools you analyze East of Eden with to look at Lone Wolf and Cub. If you can parse A Midsummer Night’s Dream then Urusei Yatsura should be just as comprehensible to you.  

Yuri however, is distinct enough that it is worth talking about what is intrinsic to it. This is very much an evolving work in my mind and I welcome feedback as it evolves. For this point I’ve considered some of my recent reads in Yuri and re-read volume 1 of Eclair.  I intend to expand this over time so consider this a work in progress.  

For future reference this is dated June 18th, 2023.

Common Yuri Relationship Themes 

I think these are important to deconstruct so that we can speak with more precision about the nature of yuri relationships.

Types of Girl Love

One theme drives everything else in Yuri - love.  This includes five types of love that serve as sub themes:

Familial Love - While the first three are all common in Yuri, familiar love is the least common.

Familiar Love - While at risk of sounding similar to familial love this is very different. Familiar love is about shared experiences, sometimes, traumatic, sometimes not but it binds the persons together in a way that becomes a unique bond.

Philial Love - I avoid the word platonic because of its non-sexual denotation. Here philial represents a deep long lasting friendship and could be sexual and/or romantic as well.

Romantic Love - Most audiences are very familiar with this concept.

Sexual Love - While love and sex are often separated the emotions connected with physical attraction should not be understated and are important here. 

It is important to underscore that several of these afflictions are not sapphic or lesbian and while yuri comics are often sapphic the genre has enough diversity that it shouldn’t be defined as such.

Secondary Factors in Girl Love

Aesthetic Attraction - This can be a bond between girls who appreciate each other aesthetically but their connection does not necessarily become a form of love or may co-exist with a form of love. It is common with romantic and sexual love but exists in stories with platonic relationships as well.

Mania - This is a false form of love, representing obsession. It is different because it is not reciprocated in any form. This is unusual in yuri which mainly focuses on sweeter story plots.

Playful Flirting - What the Greeks called Ludus. This encompasses several concepts from the so called Bi for the Guys to fan service or just for fun. This is a form of relationship where two girls flirty, perhaps have a skinship, but it is meant to be fun or provocative not escalate.

Power Exchange - Sometimes confused with BDSM, power exchange does not necessarily include any bondage or sado-masochistic elements and can take place in what are seen as very vanilla relationships with a wide variety of forms of love or none.

Skinship - This relationship term was originally coined to describe the close physical bond between a mother and child but is now used more broadly. It can now describe the close bond in a relationship that has a physical component, for example two platonic friends that enjoy holding hands and cuddling. This is often combined with Playful Flirting relationship when the girls want to be provocative. It is considered more intimate than a sexual relationship though can certainly be combined with one.

Ambiguity 

Ambiguity is a common theme in the genre, with character feelings and even the exact form of conflict resolution often unclear to the reader and open to interpretation.  “The Hairdresser” is an example of this, where the characters have a relationship at the end but the nature of it is unclear.  It might be a mild form of devotion though one clearly has some level of aesthetic attraction.  

In “A Tropical Fish Yearns for Snow” both characters are ingénues and everything is ambiguous throughout.  In “The Hairdresser” a girl attracted to another does her hair, they clearly develop a relationship at the end but what kind is left in doubt.  

Conflicts 

All Yuri has one central false conflict and one or more true conflicts.  The false conflict mirrors western romance literature and is the resolution of the status of a relationship between two women.  

The tone of resolutions is diverse ranging from happily ever after to tragedy and bittersweet endings far more common than in English western literature.  Additionally, even the tone can be ambiguous.

This is attributed to a critical difference between Yuri and Western romances.  While both revolve around a central relationship conflict the resolutions are very different.  Western romances may factor some self revelation in the build up to resolution but resolving the relationship itself resolves the conflict.  This is to say the conflict is external.

After the rain

In Yuri the true conflict is internal to one or more of the main characters.  The resolution of the relationship between them is a side effect of internal conflict being resolved but optional.  Nothing may change in that relationship or it may be ambiguous.  

Character Plot Roles 

Because so many plots center around resolving ambiguity and conflicts in relationship most plot roles address sides of those issues.

The Devout - This role is paired with the Goddess. The devout is a character absolutely fixated on another character.  The devout could be a yandere but often is a kind soul who is genuinely devout and willing to put their own emotions aside for their Goddess.

The Enigma - This is a character we don’t get to see the internal voice of and is often unexpressive.  They are an object of interest from other characters and we often don’t know their feelings until the end and even then may only be implied. Their job is to react. Kai-san from “Happiness in the Shape of a Scar” from vol 1 of Eclair is an example.  Note that being an enigma is not about being emotionally reserved but their viewpoint as to the relationship is unknown.  In “Human Emotion” from volume one of Eclair we see that the minx is very reserved and probably autistic while the enigma is very vocal and expressive.  

The Goddess - The goddess is the object of devotion by a Devout character. They may be beautiful and accomplished or may be very average. They may be aware of the Devout’s dedication or may be unaware of it. They do not have control over being a Goddess, it is determined by the focus of the Devout on them.

The ingénue - This girl is naive and is likely interested in other girls but not even aware of it herself. Often paired with a Minx. Examples: Yuma-chan from NTR.

The Minx - Is interested in another girl sexually and/or romantically.  This does not preclude other types of relationships as they are often friends as well.  May have many self doubts and not be as sophisticated as they appear.  May be aggressive and a combination of their doubts and interests are usually a major driving force behind the plot in stories in which they appear.  Examples: Hotaru from NTR.  Both characters in “The Unemployed Woman and the High School Girl” are minxes, an unusual point of conflict. The aggressiveness of the minx can mix into themes in a variety of ways, for example in “Master for 1/365” the minx positions herself to be the slave of the enigma until out of frustration she makes a physical ploy.  

The Opportunist - Is either pan or they see practicality as more important their sex choices, can often happen because what they are opportunistic to is erotic acts in a relationship and may occur because they acknowledge other feelings of connection and use physical as a pan easy way to reciprocate, the opportunist is a manipulator though it may be a result of self defense mechanisms 

The Tourist - This character has just wandered into a Yuri story and really has no place in it.  Often used open endings and plot twists.

The two combinations of the Minx and the ingénue and the Minx and the Enigma are the most common pairings because indeterminate relationship is one of the most common storylines in the genre.

Character Archetypes 

The Emo Queen - The emo queen rarely show feminine embellishments even if they are attractive, they are socially withdrawn and only interact with others to push them away. This is often a persona created as a defense mechanism and the person actually wants to connect to others.

The Girl Next Door  - The Girl Next Door is pretty, sexy and relatable. They are desirable but don’t put a lot of effort into their appearance being genuine and down to earth.    

The Ice Queen - Unlike the Emo Queen, the Ice Queen doesn’t so much push others away as create a barrier of non-interaction around herself. She is usually very good at her job and respected whether she is an office worker or student. They often have a less severe personality outside of their school or work.

The Kawaii Girl - This girl is obsessed with fashion, make up and in general being girly. She is probably attractive and at least emulates popular behavior and may have a big social media following. 

The Non-Human - This is taken from the 1948 novel of the same name by Osamu Dazai. This character is in many ways a more extreme version of the Emo Queen that is not a persona but a true state. This person has reached a point of social alienation and depression where they no longer qualify to be human beings. Trigger warnings often abound when a character is Non-Human. These are unusual in yuri.

Titles 

Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon

Hinako is a pretty girl who calls fashion magazines her text books. At her office girl job she is fashionable, attractive and a daily lunch partner of other girls even when she can’t afford it because she spent so much on beauty supplies. She desperately hopes that by fulfilling social expectations she will be normal, attract the right man and maybe be happy. Asahi is five years older and respected at their workplace. She keeps to herself and brings her lunch. Hinako wonders why Asahi isn’t afraid of being alone.

One night crying in the street Hinako is discovered by Asahi who shares donuts with her on a park bench. This starts a relationship based on empathy and respect which grows from there. 

Characters

Hinako - (archetype) Kawaii Girl, (plot role) Ingénue

Asahi - (archetype) Ice Queen, (plot role) Enigma/Ingénue  

Details

Story and art by Shio Use 

Seven Seas Entertainment

Began English publishing in 2021

Four volumes, complete.

Notes

I really enjoyed this series and consider it very good. First it was nice to have a series about office working age characters instead of school girls for a change and the discovery of two homo-erotic but asexual characters was nice.

NTR: Netsuzou Trap

From Wikipedia: “Yuma and Hotaru have been best friends since childhood. Yuma would protect Hotaru from things such as bullies, and made it her job to look after her. Now, the two are second-year high school students, but Hotaru is anything but innocent.”

Characters

Yuma - (archetype) Girl Next Door, (plot role) ingénue

Hotaro - (archetype) Girl Next Door, (plot role) Minx

Details

Story and art by Kodama Naoko

Seven Seas Entertainment 

Began English publishing in 2020

Six volumes, complete

Notes

This was actually the first yuri work I read so it has a special place in my literary affections. NTR is a cheeky title as it is meant to invoke NTR as an abbreviation for ‘netorare’ a genre focused on cheating. And the female characters are effectively cheating on their boyfriends. Some yuri fans don’t like the work because of the aggressiveness and mind games played by Hotaro though they are born out of insecurity. Also it is one of the racier yuri series with risque fan service but I do worry that sometimes the innocence of yuri goes a bit bar in ignoring female sexuality.

Strawberry Fields Once Again

Pure, an attractive outgoing girl starts attending Akira’s school.  Akira pushes everyone away and swears off romance after seeing her parent’s relationship collapse though she still enjoys playing otome romance games. Pure immediately upon meeting Akira declares her love claiming to be from the future and Akira’s future lover. This story sounds crazy but it turns out that Akira’s shut-in brother has been working on a time machine.

Characters

Akira - (archetype) Emo Queen, (plot role) Opportunist, Goddess

Pure - (archetype) Girl Next Door, (plot role) Devout

Details

Story and art by Kazura Kinosaki

Yen Press

Began English publishing in 2020

Three volumes in English as of June 2023

Notes

I’ve read the first two volumes and the start of the third at this point. I am enjoying it but it is not a must read. It is notable for having a science fiction angle that is unusual in yuri. It also occurred as I read it that more recent yuri I’m reading treats lesbian relationships as more normalized and less commented on.

The Summer You Were There

From English publisher: “Shizuku is a shy high schooler who hardly talks to other people. Instead, she loses herself in writing, crafting a novel that she never intends to show anyone. But when her cute, popular classmate Kaori gets her hands on Shizuku’s manuscript, everything changes. Kaori suggests that, in order to give Shizuku material for her next book, the two of them should start dating! Can this mismatched pair create their own happily ever after?”

Characters

Shizuku - (archetype) Non-Human, (plot role) Goddess 

Kaori - (archetype) Girl Next Door, (plot role) Devout 

Details

Story and art by Yuama

Seven Seas Entertainment

Began English publishing in 2022

Three volumes in English as of June 2023, fourth scheduled for Jan 2024

Notes

I’ve read the first two volumes and so far am really enjoying it. The developing relationship may warrant later changing the plot roles but some trigger warning for possibility suicide thoughts need to be included. Also the developing story that is only hinted at for Kaori is giving me I Want to Eat Your Pancreas vibes which concerns me. Overall, yay.

Non-Yuri Works Recommended for Yuri Readers

After the Rain 

I Want To Eat Your Pancreas 

[stopeatingwhales]

particles x damon albarn

the lyrics to this song are genuinely so beautiful, like i honestly cannot describe enough how much i adore this song my goodness

Pairing: present day damon x reader

Warnings: none :D

Word count: 1.881

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

It had been two months since I had last seen him. Two whole months since he had set foot in our home; two whole months since he said goodbye to leave for tour. The home that we shared had began to inhabit a sense of eeriness, some nights the walls began to feel as if they were closing in on me, trapping me from any interaction with the outside world, as if to hold me hostage by my own insanity, although other nights the space felt extremely large, almost too big for one person to be able to waste their nights alone in, encapsulating my mind in a constant conflict of obstructive thoughts, forcing me to overthink every tiny detail that was conveyed on the pale stained walls, the wooden floorboards, the arrangement of the furniture, resulting in many a time of me moving around heavy tables and chairs until the image of the room settled my mind’s anxiety. Allowing distance to get in the lines of mine and Damon’s relationship, it was simply uncanny that I was going to miss him; he was the carcass that kept me sane, the being that granted me peace in myself, ease on my mind to prevent such mania from enrapturing my brain, the person that engulfed me into a stupor of adoration and affection that one could never understand the authentic strength until felt - what some perceive as paramour, true love, something so overstimulating that once separated such thing desperation beguiles you to surround yourself with, only a mere sensation of emptiness is all that is felt inside, as if your limbs are damaged, your insides constantly in a state of sickness that you are convinced you’re in need of some form of professional assistance, but it is simply the alchemy, the poison of the apprehension that captivates you from the estrangement from your significant other. Though that wasn’t to say that wasn’t proud of Damon; I embraced fondness and admiration for everything that he did and was so dedicated in doing, his talent and immense knowledge for the art form that speaks to you demonstrated his ability to move millions of people, uniting as one in concerts, all touched from the same, simple string of melodies, proving his true gift and genius that is inside his brain.

I tried to pry my thoughts away from the excitement that had been seeping into my veins from the fact that he was returning home today, in an attempt to focus my mind on whatever had been showing on the television, but there was no use. To be cradled in his arms was all that I had longed, the thought clouding my brain almost every single night that I had thrown my body onto the linen sheets, trying to wrap my body around the duvet to replicate the specific warmth that had enveloped my body when in his arms, his body completely dominating mine, his hands running through my hair gently, apologising with a kiss on the top of my head when he accidentally pulled too roughly, my face buried in his chest as a blush would suddenly creep onto my cheeks, our embrace fulfilling me with a nest of blooming butterflies in my body, a poignant sensation of nervousness and reverence for the man that had me cooped up in his arms, the same feelings that would embody you whilst walking past your first crush during primary school, accidentally brushing your hands against one another’s, sending your mind into overdrive as if to think that the person was the love of your life. Such emotions never left, and I doubted that they ever would; supposing that is true love, he could make me feel like a little girl squealing over her teenage idol because of how perfect he was, just from being himself.

“I’m home, love,” I heard a voice call out in the hallway, accompanied by the soft slam of the front door, the tone of voice lacing a certain amount of raspiness, perhaps from a cigarette that had just been inhaled. My head instantly turned to the door of the living room, eyes settling upon the sight of Damon, who had a small grin curved on his lips, his gaze captured with joy and desire, perhaps from gratification towards the understanding that the tour had finally ended, as well as the fact that he was able to finally see me once again - my expression equally reciprocating his happiness. Instantly jumping from my seat on the couch, I rushed over to him as I threw my arms around him, resting my ear against his chest, listening to the soft pattern of his heartbeat. As usual, his arms wrapped around my figure, tightly embracing my body, the swarm of butterflies breaking out of their cocoons, my limbs growing weak from the recognisable thrill of affection that I had desired for far too long, and had sadly not received. Feeling his lips grazing against the top of my head made my mind go fuzzy, my cheeks flushing a heat that made me feel as if I was under the beating warmth of the sun during the summer months. This is what he does to me. “How’ve you been darling? I see you’ve rearranged the place, again.” he mumbled into my head of hair, my mind still relishing in the pleasure of being in his arms again.

“I’ve missed you,” I replied, reluctantly pulling my arms away from the embrace, in order to gawk at him. A gentle chuckle rumbled from his throat, though his features accentuated pity, understanding how I must’ve felt being away from him for so long. Lightly taking hold of one of his hands, I dragged his arm, guiding him to the sofa, where both of us sat next to each other. “You were gone for so long!”

“I know love, I’ve missed you so much,” he replied, squeezing my hand in reassurance. “At least I’m not gone for any longer though.” he added, his lips curving slightly as I nodded, a similar grin planted on my lips.

“How was the tour then?” I asked, pulling his arm to wrap it around my shoulders, my body already aching for more attachment to him. “The videos I’ve seen online made it look very good.”

“It was great, honestly. Loved every bit of it.” he replied, the grip on my shoulder tightening as he attempted to haul me closer to him. Humming in agreement, I placed my head on his shoulder, cradling the moment we shared together, the moment that I had imagined and adorned each and every night he was absent, cherishing every single time that he was able to be in my presence. I depended on him greatly, as did he, and though that may be a toxic strand which can only result in turmoil; our appreciation for one another held such poise that it would draw us closer together each and every time we had conjoined together after months of being separated. “I’ve actually got something to show you.” he added, shifting from our hug and slowly stepping to his feet, taking his hand in mine, his soft but coarse palms gripping onto mine ever so slightly, urging me to stand up too. “Come with me.”

Following him closely, we headed towards his studio. I had forgotten the last time that I had set foot in it; usually I would leave Damon to work on his craft alone, since having me prance around messing with all sorts of instruments and controls wasn’t going to provide much assistance. As well as that, sitting in the room, knowing that he was away and would be for many days on, would only make me yearn for his presence more, which is the last of what I would need when not being able to fall asleep. Though whenever he would call me into the room, he would always show me the most beautifully crafted symphony, in which he would perform it so effortlessly, as if it was simply created from the top of his head at that moment. Talent like his was so scarce; it would only prove to me that it’s something you are gifted with at birth, like an extremely high intelligence quotient - he always had ideas running through his mind, melodies that would be formed from a simple tap of the table in front of him. It was a wonder in the fact that he seemingly never got burned out with creating music, it was evidently his passion, and it touched me that he would constantly ask me for my opinion on his music, as it always resonated with him, always held such importance.

When we walked inside the studio, I followed him to the grand piano that was standing by the corner of the room. I kept my body upright, behind him, as he pulled out the black stool underneath, moving it back slightly in order for him to sit on it. “Over the tour, I had some free time, so I wrote this song, it’s called Particles,” he began, his voice quiet, as if it were intertwined with a certain anxiousness about what he was about to perform. “It’s still a work in progress, but I wanted to know what you thought of it.”

As I admired his fingers softly grazing the elegant, pale keys of the piano, the melody that in which played forth me instantaneously sufficed me in a trance, bewilderment encompassing my my mind as I listened to the sounds of the alluring chords echo throughout the room, bounce off the walls, the waves of noise crafting mountainous regions of goosebumps to prickle on the bare skin exposed from my forearms. Sculpted with such elegance and formality, my mouth fell agape as he played with such ease - in that significant moment, I was subdued to his music, hypnotised into his magnificence; I could do nothing, absolutely nothing, except admire the grace that fell from his lips once he started singing. As I allowed my gaze to drift onto his face, I gawked at his demeanour, his eyes almost screwed shut, his face almost frozen in place as his body rocked back and forth to the melody that was omitted from the piano. Every word, every string of lines carried a lugubrious essence to it, a tone laced with such beautification; obvious that there were deeper implications behind said lyrics. Each line that escaped his throat exemplified the nature of what earnest fervour, authentic devotion and expertise can embody. Such melody, paired with his voice embodied with pure ethereality, as if I was being greeted by a herd of the most quaint angels, welcoming my soul into the seven heavens. A beam crawled onto my lips, my heart thumping at a million miles per hour from the amount of love I carried in my body for the man in front of me.

Once the song ended, a moment was held in the atmosphere of mere silence, as if to take in all that was felt, all that had vibrated through the sound waves and blessed my ears. Shifting his body so he could connect eyes with me, a gentle, welcoming smile tugged on his lips. “That’s for you.”

[to-star-lake]

Mars [ III ]

pairing | kth x reader genre | ahistorical au, military au, yandere!taehyung word count | 3.2k rating/warnings | M, 18+

Quietly, he walked through the halls back to his room where he took a seat in the chair behind his desk. He could recall each and every second of the events that just transpired in painfully vivid detail, and yet it felt distant from him, as though it happened in a dream. It came and went, gone as quickly as the winds change, and was becoming polluted by his own unease, his own uncertainty.

He laughed dejectedly at himself, gliding the palms of his hands along his thighs, where you’d touched him. 

How absurd, he scoffed at himself, an agonizing realization rising to the top of his mind, it weighed down like a heavy boulder on his chest. How absurd that he should think himself a savior. How absurd that the story he told himself all these months was that he rescued you from an uncertain fate that night. How absurd that he should think when he brought you here, away from the battlefields and burning towns, that you would feel safe and free with him. 

“You’re nothing but a killer.” 

He wondered if after all this time this was still how you felt. He shook the thought away. Of course you still felt this way. There was no sense in wondering. 

He invaded this country. He led the assault on the once tranquil and picturesque towns you grew up in. He burned it all down. He spared you your life, but you are a prisoner. You are his captive. 

He knew the illusory narrative he’d been holding in his head was false. Though he could admit there was always a part of him that knew this. He just couldn’t accept it. Or maybe he was trying to manifest the illusion by believing so deeply in it. He was uncertain. 

But still he hoped. He couldn’t give that up. The hope - that one day when you looked at him, it would be with anything other than the cold, detached, impenetrable gaze you always held when you looked at him. The hope that one day when you spoke to him, it wouldn’t be so rigid and formal, that you would feel comfortable to speak your mind freely. The hope that, maybe one day, you would even smile. And that he may even be the one to put the smile on your face. 

He wanted to hear the way your voice might ring when you spoke of something you loved, something you enjoyed. He wanted to see a smile rise to your eyes before the curl of your lips. He wanted to hear you laugh. 

This agonized him so - your cold detachment. Perhaps it was because his own emotional state mirrored yours. He was tired. Tired of the war. Tired of bloodshed. Tired of the senseless destruction. He once looked wide-eyed at photographs of the ocean, of vast green plains under a bright blue sky in wonder. His reality was much different from his imagination. As the years passed, he also became detached, resigned to this life. He’d thought of deserting, but where would he go? He’d been a soldier his whole life. It was all that he knew. It was all that he could do. 

“You’re nothing but a killer.” 

He’d heard your words in his head countless times before, but it never ceased to sting unbearably deep in his heart. And he knew. It stung because it was true. Killing is all he’s ever known. 

He sat in front of the fire, wandering aimlessly the melancholy abyss of his mind late that evening when you returned to his room. He heard the door squeak open. He heard the gentle pat of your feet against the floor as you entered. He felt his hand grip the wooden handle of the chair tighter, but he did not turn to look at you. He couldn’t. 

If he were to look at you then, if he were to see that you looked back at him with your cold, unaffected eyes, after the time you’d spent together, after today.. He didn’t think he could bear it. 

He heard your light footsteps approach him, feeling your presence beside him like a heavy shadow. 

“Captain?” 

He caught his breath, his stomach tensing at the sound of your voice, quiet and airy. 

“Captain..” 

In his periphery he saw you kneel down beside him, and raised your hands up to rest on his forearm on the handle of the chair. The grip he held with his other hand tightened further, his fingernails digging into the wood of the chair handle. 

“...have I done something to upset you?”

He took a ragged breath in, his jaw clenching, a loud ringing growing deafening in his ears. There was a madness rising within him. Driven by the reel of images that played in his mind of earlier - of you, knelt before him between his legs. Of your naked body, how he longed to reach out to touch your bare skin. The way you made him feel. The way you moaned into him. 

He finally turned to look at you. And though he hoped something had changed, and hoped further that if he were to find nothing had changed, that it wouldn’t affect him. But the look in your eyes, the expression they held, cold detachment - he felt his heart sink, his chest wringing into itself, tightening, weighed down oppressively by a hopeless wish. 

And it angered him. It angered him that you could deign to speak so sweetly to him, the way your voice hummed when you called to him. The way you could be so indifferent, while his skin lit on fire under the touch of your fingertips. 

No, he thought to himself. It’s not possible that you should feel nothing for him. It’s not possible that you should feel nothing at all. He’d seen the way you looked onto the sky when it was clear, the way you’d close your eyes and breathe in the breeze that blew in through the open doors, the way your eyes suddenly lit up in wonder when you happened to see a sparrow land on the tree under the balcony. You are not so cold and immovable. 

He closed a hand tightly around your wrist and pulled you up to standing. He dragged you behind him, barely registering your voice as you called out to him, saying he was hurting you. He threw you onto his bed, watching for a moment as your small body sunk into the deep green velvet blankets. 

When you tried to sit up, he crawled on top of you, flattening his palm against the base of your neck, the wide expanse of his fingers covering both of your collarbones and he pushed you down against the pillows. He looked into your eyes.

Nothing. 

Not even fear.

The madness grew. 

He pushed his lips onto yours, forcefully, fueled by all the anger, frustration, sorrow, and longing that tugged his mind into a dark abyss. He ran a hand under your head, lacing his fingers into your hair and gripped it tightly, pulling your head back and forcing your mouth open. He slid his tongue into your mouth, and the whimper he heard from the back of your throat elicited a guttural moan from him. You tasted so sweet. And your body felt so warm under his. Your skin was so soft, sending pulses of electricity through his body each time his hand grazed your bare skin. 

But your body felt limp underneath him. You didn’t fight him. But he could tell you weren’t encouraging this either. Slowly, he pulled himself back and brushed a hand gently over your forehead. He looked down into your eyes, and saw that you had remained completely expressionless, looking up at him with empty eyes. He huffed, hands grasping fistfuls of the velvet fabric, driven to mania by your cold indifference. 

After a few moments, his breathing evened out. And slowly, he rose, sliding off the edge of the bed. He stood, hunched, staring at the ground. 

“I’ve lost myself..” he said softly, to you, and partly to himself. “Forgive me.”

You lay still on the soft, velvet blankets of his bed. Arms still over your head where he’d just held them, staring at the carvings in the oak canopy above you. You heard his footsteps recede into the bathroom, and the squeak of the faucet as he turned the water on in the shower. 

You felt a rush of blood spill into the veins of your face, dilating them and producing a pink glow in your cheeks. You heard the hushed breaths of air streaming in and out from your mouth, quiet, but shallow. 

Slowly, you pushed yourself up to sitting. Through the doorway to the bath you could see him leaned over the counter in front of the sink and mirror, his arms out, hands clasped tightly around the opposite edges of the marble. He’d taken off his shirt, which now lay as a puddle of dark cotton on the floor beside him. You found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. From the many scars that marred his back, at the lines of his muscles. At his head, hanging, hunched over the sink, his eyes dark and hidden under a veil of dark hair. His lips were parted, and you could still feel the way he moved them against yours.

He lifted his head and your eyes met his in the mirror. 

Why did he always look like this? You wondered. Even on the night you first met him, and every day since, his eyes always held the deepest grief, like someone who’d lost something incredibly precious and irreplaceable, and was forced to roam and wander the earth without it. 

Vengeful. Ferocious. Merciless. Cruel. Bloodthirsty. Heartless. 

These were the words you’ve heard used to describe him. But you could never see it. Not when he became angry with you as he never had, because you refused to eat. Not when you knew he spent his spare moments lost in volumes of books that described beautiful, faraway lands. Not when you had watched him as he occasionally took walks around the compound, and would stop to stare longingly at a small animal that passed him, or a bird as it flew past him in the sky. Not when your eyes would by chance meet, and you could see the childlike yearning hidden under a deep layer of anguish. 

You felt yourself unconsciously squeezing your thighs together, an aching growing as you recalled what you’d done earlier. 

I just needed to do something to make sure he wouldn’t let me be taken by someone else, you reasoned with yourself, but the aching in your core grew against your wishes. You couldn’t admit to yourself that earlier you enjoyed it. 

It was a means to an end, you kept telling yourself. But the warm puddle that began pooling between your legs told you differently.

He watched you in the reflection in the mirror, studying you carefully as you sat up in his bed, gazing back at him for a few moments. He watched you slowly slide off the edge of the bed and walked into the bathroom behind him. 

It couldn’t be, he thought. He wondered if the shadows cast across your face from the light of the fire in the bedroom were playing tricks on him, but he could swear he saw something change in your expression. Something he hadn’t seen before. 

But when he turned to face you as you approached him, he confirmed it. Your eyes looked at him differently. He recognized this look. 

Lust.

He leaned back against the cold, marble counter as you closed the space between the two of you. Goosebumps rose on his skin as your fingertips grazed the skin on his collarbones, reaching up around the nape of his neck. He watched you, breathing shallow breaths as you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes and reached your lips up to meet his. 

God, your lips were so warm and soft. He felt his eyes fall closed, despite him wishing to keep them open so he could watch you. Watch the way your lashes fluttered when you maneuvered your lips between his, watch the way strands of your hair fell back from your shoulders, exposing the creamy, silk-smooth skin of your neck. 

“Y/N..” he managed between your lips. He heard a quiet moan from you in response, and though he’d been hard for a while now, he felt blood pulsing through him, his length pushing painfully against the starched, rough material of his trousers. “You don’t..mm..you don’t have to do this..” He said this, but he knew that just as before, he would not be able to stop you. And he didn’t want to. 

His mind was growing foggier by the second, exacerbated by the heat radiating off your body, emitting an intoxicating scent of honey and milk. He felt his eyes roll back as you gently slid your tongue onto his, becoming drunk on the taste of you, and the steam that rose in the bathroom from the hot water rushing in the shower made it difficult for him to breathe, difficult to think. 

Cautiously, he slid his hands over your waist, down to your hips, the curve of your body drove him to madness. “Y/N...are you sure about this?” he whispered, desperately hoping you would tell him to stop. And desperately hoping you wouldn’t. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

He sighed into your skin, feeling your tongue rolling over his as you gave your reply. He gripped his fingers tightly into the skin of your hips. He felt your body quiver in response. 

“I want this.” 

Don’t say things like that to me, his mind raced. 

“I want you.”

That sent him over the edge. He tugged roughly at your hips and spun you around, pushing you against the marble wall beside him, its surface wet and slippery from the steam of the shower. He reached his hands up to the neckline of your dress, taking fistfuls of it and with just the slightest force, tore the delicate material in two, ripping it from your body. 

He wanted more. He needed more. His hands groped desperately at your waist, your hips, your thighs. He moved his lips to your shoulder, sucking and biting at your soft skin and when you slid your arms up around his neck, one hand lacing into the long wavy strands of his hair he heard a low, guttural moan escape his throat. 

He needed more.

He wanted to taste you. 

Slowly and deliberately, he lowered himself in front of you, gliding his hands over your breasts, so soft and full in his hands, plush in between his fingertips and he dragged them over your hardened nipples. He knelt in front of you, slowly sliding a hand up along your inner thigh and he looked up to see you toss your head back against the wall, and he pushed your legs apart, draping one over his shoulder. 

He leaned closer, and though the glow from the fire in his bedroom did not provide enough light for him to see, he could feel the heat emanating from your core, and the sweet, musty smell of your arousal sent waves of electricity through his body. He looked down at the soft folds of skin between your open legs, and brought a hand to the top of your clit, slipping a finger through your folds. 

“Fuck...Y/N..” he moaned as his fingers slid down your clit, becoming coated in a thick layer of your wetness. “Fuck..” he dove his head in between your legs, and barely registered the quiet scream that escaped your throat when he drove his tongue between your folds, lapping up as much of your slick as he could. God, you tasted so good. He wanted more, flattening his tongue against your clit, pressing his lips down onto your sensitive bud, sucking, salivating as he tasted more of you, a drop of your wetness mixed with his saliva dripped down his chin and he reached a hand up, wiping it from his skin and licked his finger clean before sliding it inside you. 

He felt your body shake as he did this, and worked his finger slowly in and out of you as your juices dripped down onto his palm, and his tongue continued its work on your aching clit. Fuck. He couldn’t take it anymore, how warm and creamy and tight you felt around his finger. He stood, and pumped his finger slowly in and out of you a couple of more times before retracting his hand from you with a snail-trail of slickness and held his finger to your lips, and swallowed hard seeing you take his finger into your mouth eagerly, sucking and tasting your own juices. 

He watched with wild eyes as you slid your hands down to his belt, unfastening it and pushed his trousers and briefs to the floor, finally freeing his aching cock from its restraints, pulsing with need. He heard a soft whimper from you as he picked you up and set you onto the marble counter by the sink, and he was losing his mind in anticipation seeing you spread your legs apart for him. 

He wrapped a hand around his length and situated himself between your legs, letting just the tip of his cock dip gently between your folds. His mind went completely blank as he felt your warmth, seeing the glistening wetness you were leaving on him. 

“Please..Captain..”

Your voice echoed in his head, and he looked up to see your eyes, hooded and sleepy, watery and pleading. “Please..”

He couldn’t restrain himself any longer. He watched your face intently, seeing your lips part with a moan, your eyes rolling back as he pushed himself into you inch by inch. He moved a hand to the base of your throat, closing his fingers around it with the gentlest force, to feel the vibration under your skin when you moaned as he slowly pushed more of himself into you, making a conscious effort not to thrust into you all at once. He knew he was stretching you to the brink of pain, you were so tight around him, so wet, sucking him in. 

He felt your whole body vibrate with pleasure when he finally bottomed out inside you, and he pulled himself back and slowly pushed him full length back in, finding an excruciatingly slow pace. He knew this was driving you wild, he knew his cock was filling you to the absolute brim, but he was also slowly losing himself in the warmth of your pussy, in the sound of your moans and pleads for him to go deeper, faster. 

“Say my name,” he commanded, deliberately withholding your pleasure, pulling away slightly, denying you his full length. He heard a soft whine in response. He pushed himself slowly back into you, all of him, the air had become heavy with steam and the smell of your two bodies, and the wet, squelching sounds as he pulsed his cock slowly in and out of your pussy that ached to be completely filled, to be ravaged. He applied more force with the hand he had held around your throat, and he exhaled sharply, feeling your pussy clamp down on him reflexively as he did this. “Say my name,” he growled into your ear, quickening his pace.

He could feel your body quivering, your insides tightening even more and he pounded into you, feeling droplets of your wetness dripping down to your ass, the sensation quickly pushing him over the edge. 

“Say it,” he rasped, his tongue lolling over the lobe of your ear. And when he heard you say it, it sent a shockwave through his body and he felt his cock twitch inside you, and felt your body shake in response. 

“Tae- Taehyung..” 

His thrusts were becoming sloppy, he was pounding into you with a feral desperation. 

“Mm..ah- Taehyung..!” 

He loved hearing your screams in his ear, the hum of his name from your lips. 

“Taehyung..I, I’m gonna-”

He heard the scream come up in throat as he thrusted into you mercilessly, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.

“Do it,” he panted, “Cum for me, love.” And as he heard you whimper, your body convulsing helplessly under him as your walls spasmed around him, he felt the rush of his own orgasm, he moaned gruffly from the back of his throat, holding your hips flush against him as he pumped himself into you a few more times, hot streams of his cum pooling deep inside you. 

He felt your body go limp in his arms and he caught you, taking a second for himself to come down from this high, for the stars to clear from his field of vision before picking you up in his arms and walking you out to the bedroom. He set you gently down onto the bed, pulling a few layers of blankets over your exhausted body. 

He reached a hand out slowly, brushing a few strands of hair from your cheeks. He watched as the rising and falling of your chest began to slow, and your breathing became less labored, and felt himself do the same. His eyes softened, admiring the soft glow of your skin in moonlight that streamed in from the windows. You turned onto your side, snuggling your face into the pillow. And he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time - the corners of his mouth lifted, into the smallest, most indiscernible smile. But it was a smile nonetheless.

But this faded quickly. The unease returned. He wondered how you would look at him when you woke the next day, sickened by the fear in the pit of his stomach. The fear that tomorrow the magic would be lost, that the sun would rise and turn everything to stone.

[miekhead]

CW: Mentions of antipsychotics, mania.

I used to write lies. Waves of false imagination, scribbled down in school exercise books. Trips to Scotland at the age of six. Trips to Wales, usually accompanied with pictures in crayon of purple mountains with snow blanketing their peaks. Truth be told, I never once stepped foot in Scotland until I was about nineteen years old. But at a young age, whenever I received the brief to tell a story at school, the lies kept coming.

My dog had puppies (I didn’t have a dog), I went to laser quest (I wanted to go to laser quest). My mother had twins (my mother wasn’t even pregnant).

My mind would run a mile a minute, thinking up the next fantastical thing to lie about.

My thoughts were always inspired by make-believe.

By the time I was about twelve, I was writing non-stop. Filling notepads with stories full of queer angst. Characters were forged finally, until the lies I told were pure, mystical fiction. I had unlocked that part of my mind where my muse gave and gave. Gifted stories flowed from within, inspired by the women who inspired me.

I knew who I was from a very early age. I remember standing in the living room at the age of five or six getting glimpses of Carol in ER, transfixed and unable to take my eyes off the television. The locks of black curly hair, the smile. Those amber eyes. I didn’t have a name for my queerness, that would come much later. But my special interests were usually women, or TV and films featuring men with long hair. And through the daydreaming of being with these beautiful people, I told stories.

But of all the stories I told, the ones that involved queer love were my favourite. And they were favourites among my peers too.

Socialist youth camps in the summer with the Woodcraft Folk came and went, and with them, pages of stories were produced, chapters scattered around the camp as my friends, or sometimes strangers, would line up outside my tent as I hastily scribbled down the next few chapters of my work.

Writing was always there for me. I was never lonely when I had my mind and a pen and paper. I was forever asking my Oma in the Netherlands for more paper as I wrote down Willow and Tara fanfiction, sat at the coffee table with my legs crossed and ink stains smudged across the heel of my left hand.

Fanfiction. Original prose. Screenplays. Poetry. Songs. An autobiography at the age of eight. A fantasy novel by the age of twenty-six. I wrote it all.

Then one day, my muse left me. Or maybe I killed her? I had a psychotic episode. I was extremely manic and wrote everywhere. I wrote on the walls. I wrote on the windows, I wrote in books. Mostly words when I was really in deep, catch phrases here and there. Limericks were a favourite of mine at the time.

It was 2020. I was recovering from long-covid and the world had locked itself down, but so, with the help of very strong antipsychotics, had my mind.

My muse died, so I thought. Just writing about her chokes me up (which given the perpetual dosage of antipsychotics is quite the feat as crying doesn’t come easy to me like it used to).

I used to experience this astonishing phenomenon of forgetting everything I’d written. Re-reading would be an experience for me, narratives always surprising, plot twists leaving me stunned. I could only describe it as if someone were to take my brain, use it for a bit to get words down, then give it back to me afterwards. I have no recollection of writing a lot of this blog. I’d given my mind willingly to my muse.

Re-reading the novel that I wrote back in 2015 has been a painful experience. Not because the writing is atrocious (though in some places, it truly is) but because I can’t get back to that place. I can’t travel to Emoa, or the Kingdom of Emallorn and write about my dear Alois and that dastardly wicked Queen. Can I?

Perhaps what died that day when I struggled to write a sentence together was my confidence. Because here I am, writing. I have covid for the second time. My body aches, my head hurts and I have this ridiculously annoying cough. But here I am. Letting my fingers do the work, tapping the keyboard until words form and that, friends, is writing. Shit writing probably, but it’s something.

My imagination is somewhere, and I desperately cling on to every moment I get to spend with it. Her? Them? Can imagination be a friend? I think so. Because my imagination has kept me company for 30 years.

I miss my friend.

But I know that when the words that form within the pages of my recovering writing, my shy, dear imagination is loitering in the background, dormant but unmissable. I will see you soon, dear friend.

So long as my fingers continue to type, so long as my antipsychotics get safely reduced, so long as I continue to hermit and read and love the women-loving-women inspirational tv shows and films that I’ve been gifted with this winter, my friend will greet me once more.

[mimeparadox]

The New Half-Truths about Corsets

As true as it is that corsets are often misrepresented in audiovisual and written media, and as glad as I am to see people defending them, GOD, am I annoyed by the current discourse.  Not because the defenders are wrong —they’re not, in general terms—but because Twitter, Instagram, and their incentivitization of easily digestible sound bites over nuance haves stripped the conversation from all the complexity inherent in a subject as big as corsets. In seeking to be more accurate, corset defenders have often just muddied the water further, with a brand-new set of half-truths.

Here are my favorite (least favorite) talking points.

“Corsets are literally just bras!”

As a cis dude, I’ve never had reason or occasion to wear bras. I have worn corsets, though, and let me tell you, things like having to take off one’s boots after one has been out in the snow while wearing a corset is work—moreso, I imagine, that if I’d been wearing a bra. Actually putting on boots before a corset? Even harder, enough that “boots before corsets” is a common bit of advice. Corsets aren’t torture, but they do force one to rethink how they interact with the world, in ways different than bras do.

To be less glib though, yes, corsets could and did provide the sort of breast support that is now provided by bras. This doesn’t render the multiple differences irrelevant! For one, breast support is the one thing bras are meant to do: with corsets, it is secondary or even inessential, evidenced by all the corsets that do not provide breast support, such as corsets for men, old-timey corsets for kids, and underbust corsets, which are still definitely corsets.

(Megan Fox in Jonah Hex, wearing a corset that is doing exactly the same thing as a bra. Yes, I know it’s not historically accurate; that is not the point.)

What most miffs me about this argument is that it is exceedingly reductive, and displays simplistic thinking regarding both corsets and bras. Because yes, corsets were like bras…and? What is this argument trying to say, given that bras their own baggage?  Is the argument that corsets aren’t torture because corsets are bras? Plenty of people find bras uncomfortable, and something to be abandoned as soon as it becomes feasible. Corsets were purely practical because corsets are bras? Plenty of bras exist for primarily aesthetic purposes—some even do a fair amount of shaping. In the end, both garments have complicated, multifaceted, and distinct features, histories, and semiotics, and trying to equate them in a single sentence says nothing useful about either of them.

“Stays are not corsets!”

Amusingly, this argument seems somewhat incompatible with the previous one, given that stays have much more in common with corsets than with bras, but here we are.

Yes, 18th- and early 19th-century stays are significantly distinct from the corsets that we see later in the latter century, and if someone wants to don Bridgerton-inspired looks that accurately reflect Regency fashions, they should not look at Victorian corsets to obtain it.  And yes, one can make the case that stays and corsets were entirely different animals.

Here’s the thing, though: historically, that’s not a case that people made. Corsets are we know them weren’t considered to be a completely different thing from stays, but rather a different style of stays—two different breeds of dog, perhaps, but dogs all the same. Once the term corset entered regular parlance, the two terms were usually used interchangeably, as can be seen in multiple 19th century documents, including technical ones where differences between the two, if they existed, would have been noted.  

The Duties of a Lady's Maid: With Directions for Conduct, and Numerous Receipts for the Toilette (1825)

English Patents of Inventions, Specifications, 1865, 3186 - 3265 (1866)

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What’s more, it’s not until very recently that people began treating stays and corsets as altogether different things. Gone with the Wind, the book? The terms corsets and stays are used interchangeably.  The Oxford English dictionary? Describes stays as a sort of corset.  The longest-lasting site dedicated to corsets on the internet calls itself the Long Island Staylace Association, with no indication that doing so represented an inaccuracy on its part.  Sure, Elizabeth Swann should have properly said “You like pain? Try wearing stays”—at least it one wanted to be more accurate (if not good: good writing is partly about making oneself understood). But speaking here, and now, looking backwards? Very few people are trying to be that precise.  

Additionally, it’s worth noting that corsets have had a variety of styles and features throughout history, and the term is by no means exclusive to what we most often see as corsets. The S-shaped corsets from the Edwardian era are very different from Victorian corsets, as are the more girdle-like garments that followed. While not everything is a corset, I’ve yet to see a convincing argument that the term isn’t broad enough to include 18th-century stays.    

Tightlacing, Part 1: “Almost nobody did it”

Statements about tightlacing annoy me more than most, largely because they involve clearer instances of wrongness, but also because they hit closer to home.

Tightlacing has always been an imprecisely defined term: Lucy Williams, one of the best-known contemporary champions of corsetry, talks a little bit about the various ways the term has been used in her post “Waist Training vs Tight Lacing – what’s the difference?” found on her site. Usually, it refers to a quantitative measure—your corset must reduce X amount to be considered tightlacing—although recently, the discourse appears to have adopted a more qualitative definition, applicable to any instance where someone is shown displaying discomfort at being laced into corsets, regardless of how tightly they are (or aren’t) being cinched.

(Left: Moi, wearing a custom corset from The Bad Button Corsetry; Right, Upper: Scene from Bridgerton; Right, Lower: Scene from Enola Holmes)

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Take, for example, the scene that has most recently caused a stir, from Bridgerton, where the character Prudence Featherington is seen grimacing as she is laced into her corset stays corset, while her sisters wince in sympathy and their mother, Portia, insists that she be laced tighter. Others have raised objections to this scene, focusing mainly on the fact that Portia’s mania for a smaller waist is anachronistic and makes little sense given fashions that de-emphasize the waist, but fewer have noted that for all the hemming and hawing that is being done by the characters, Prudence’s figure is ultimately not all that compressed, and seems perfectly in line with everybody else’s. Is what is been done to her tightlacing? A lot of people appear to think so! And yet, that assertion carries some implications. If Prudence is being forced to tightlace here, is everyone else with a comparable silhouette (again, pretty much everyone) also tightlacing?  The answer is kind of important, especially if one also wants to claim that tightlacing was rare.

It’s worth noting that Valerie Steele’s The Corset: A Cultural History, one of the seminal works on corsetry throughout history, doesn’t actually attempt to make a case for the rarity of tightlacing. What it does attempt is to determine the accuracy of claims that women regularly laced down to 18 inches, 16 inches, or even smaller measurements, which is not quite the same thing. When exploring the question by looking at collections of surviving corsets from the era, the book has this to say: "Statistics from the Symington Collection [...] indicate that out of 197 corsets, only one measured 18 inches. Another 11 (five per cent of the collection) were 19 inches. Most were 20 to 26 inches.” While Steele readily admits this is hardly conclusive evidence, she took it as a sign that women with 16-inch waists were nowhere near as common as accounts suggested they were.  Case closed, asked and answered, no one tightlaced, right?  

Well, no.  

Again, it comes down to definitions. Even speaking quantitatively, very few people define tightlacing as “lacing down to nineteen inches or fewer” (certainly no woman in Bridgerton is that tightly laced). The consensus, rather, is that tightlacing is not about the size of the corseted waist, but about the size of the reduction. How much people cinched, however, cannot be determined by looking only at corsets, because doing so requires not only those corsets’ measurements (and even those don’t tell the whole story, given that they don’t necessarily indicate how tightly they were worn) but also the starting measurements of the people wearing them.

In other words, say someone with a 33-inch waist uses corsets to reduce their waist measurement to 25 inches. This, according to most definitions, would be considered tightlacing—a 24% reduction!—and yet the absolute measurements would be nothing to write home about. How is that reflected in Steele’s sample of corsets? Impossible to say. A 25-inch corset could also be worn by someone with a natural 27-inch waist.

What, then, can we say about the frequency of tightlacing? Well, if we’re talking about dramatic reductions of, say, more than four inches (a two-inch reduction, by the way, can look like this—again, more dramatic than what we see in Bridgerton) one can say, with a fair level of confidence, that it was probably not the norm. And yet, “not the norm” is itself a very broad category, and given the numbers involved, “a minority of people” can easily still be “loads and loads of people”, as seen, for example, with COVID-19. Even if two percent of the population who wore corsets tightlaced, that’s still hundreds of thousands of people—hardly “almost no one”, as some argue. And if wearing corsets as seen in Enola Holmes or Bridgerton counts as tightlacing, the number becomes even higher.

Tightlacing, Part 2: “Tightlacing is bad”

Perhaps not coincidentally, another element of the current corset discourse involves taking all the baggage usually assigned to corsetry in general and applying it to tightlacing instead. Corsets are not painful, goes the argument, but tightlacing is. Corsets are not unhealthy, but tightlacing is. People could do everyday things in corsets, they’ll say, but not when tightlaced. Arguments made against corsets in the 19th century were slander made by people who just hated women (another half-truth I have little time for), but are apparently utterly unobjectionable when applied to tightlacing. This, as many modern-day tightlacers will tell you, is bullshit, but it feels like an especially odd argument to make in light of everything else.

As in, what is the point? It feels a lot like saying “I’m not sex-negative, but having sex with more than X partners is icky.” And given the history-focused slant of the current discourse, it’s safe to believe that most people arguing against tightlacing are not people who have attempted it. There is, however, an existing community that will happily tell you, based on personal experience, what tightlacing is actually like.

So from personal experience: tightlacing may not be like wearing a bra, and there are definitely some considerations that you have to take while doing it— getting dressed, sitting down, and eating are all done differently when tightly laced—but this is more logistical than anything, and also applies to other things—running in steel-toed boots is much different from running in sneakers, and the advice when doing the former is often “don’t”. Additionally, the margin for error decreases the more tightly laced one is, but corsets aren’t special in that regard: proper care is much more important when one is flying a commercial jet than when one is flying a one-seater. But yes, you can do physical activity while tightlaced. Not necessarily the sort that you could do in exercise clothes, but then, the fact that suits are not optimized for running doesn’t make suits bad.

Tightlacing, in the end, is not really different from wearing a corset. Some people will like it, some will not, but ultimately, how pleasurable or how unpleasurable it is (it’s very pleasurable, in my book) depends on what you put into it, and that’s something quite a few people—not a majority, but also not “almost nobody”—who are often far more tightly laced than people in movies, would attest to, if people listened.   

[h-worksrambles]

A little rant on terminology in Sonic fandom (or ‘why Dark Age and Meta Era are bad labels’)

A personal beef of mine with Sonic fandom is how fans split up the various eras. Specifically, I hate the terms ‘Dark Age’ and ‘Meta Era’.

My problems with them are honestly quite similar. I think they’re too broad, and overly pejorative in a way that just makes them subjective.

When you use the terms ‘Classic Era’, ‘Adventure Era’ or ‘Boost Era’, you’re describing the series in terms of tropes or standout games that defined that era. The ‘Classic Era’ has a distinct aesthetic, a consistent visual style, and a clear timeframe, to the point that when Sonic Mania was billed as a revival of/tribute to the Classic Era, everyone in the fandom knew what that meant in terms of how Mania was going to look and play.

The same can be said to an extent of the ‘Adventure Era’ or the ‘Boost Era’. They each have a clear timeframe that they describe, an aesthetic and tone for the series, and you generally have an idea of how a game from that era is going to play. It’s admittedly a little more nebulous in terms of what games count as what era, mind. Like you could make the case for or against Heroes being part of the ‘Adventure Era’ because it’s technically not an Adventure game, despite sharing a lot of tropes and design philosophy and being part of that timeframe. Just as Lost World has a lot of the same design philosophy, look and feel of the Boost games (being designed as a spiritual successor to Colors especially) despite not actually letting you boost. But I feel like these terms mostly make sense.

But as for a term like Dark Age…all that really implies is ‘the point when the series got bad’. And that really isn’t helpful. Let me ask you. When does the Dark Age actually start and end? Does it start with Sonic Heroes? Well now, I’m gonna have half my audience replying: ‘yes, that game sucks, it’s part of the Dark Age of Sonic’. But then you have the half saying: ‘No it isn’t! I love that game. Shadow is where the Dark Age started’. Then the Shadow defenders pop up. Then someone else says, ‘No the 2010’s were the real Dark Age’. Well now we’re talking about a whole other time period and leaving this one ill-defined. Which just kind of proves my point, now doesn’t it? How about if we ask where it ended. Did it end with Unleashed? Black Knight? Colors? You can’t define Sonic in terms of good and bad eras because the fandom is too divided. Every game has supporters and detractors. You could perhaps use the Dark Age label to call it a dark period for Sega as a company due to their struggles after dropping out of the console market. But that’s a different issue from the Sonic franchise specifically. The term ‘Dark Age’ doesn’t describe a trait or convention of the series at that time. It’s a descriptor of quality in a series notorious for no one agreeing on which games are good.

The label ‘Meta Era’ isn’t quite as on the nose but it’s effectively the same issue. Now this does actually describe a trait of the time technically. But it’s a vague one. The term suggests this period was defined by…fourth wall jokes? When that only happens about once or twice per game? Well that’s not helpful, is it? Sure maybe if you’re clued up on fandom discourse, you know what it implies (over focus on humour and lack of emphasis on characters leading to a decline in the writing). But without that context it tells you nothing about the actual games. Plus fans often use this label to define the whole 2010s. So…we’re gonna lump Colors, Generations, Lost World, the entire Boom sub-series, Forces and Mania under one vague, unhelpful label? If you ask me, there’s far too many disparate things going on with Sonic in the 2010s to lump it all together.

You also run into the quality argument again. Meta Era is another label used as short hand for ‘when the series got bad’. But then, where does that start and end? With Colors, since that was the first game with a reduced cast and lighter tone? Well that game has a lot of supporters and detractors who probably won’t come to an agreement. Plus a lot of those traits are present in Unleashed to a lesser extent, anyway. And that game is itself a huge base breaker. Generations? Well a lot of the fandom likes that one so calling that the start of the rough patch doesn’t work. Lost World? Well most of the intervenening period after that was given over to Boom which was a different thing entirely, so calling that the start of a new era seems wrong. Mania was well recieved so is that the end of the Meta Era? Well, Forces came directly after and was substantially less well received (though that game also has its defenders which complicates things further) so I don’t know about that. Especially when the bulk of criticism revolved around common talking points regarding the so-called Meta Era. And since then, we’ve had no mainline games and the franchise has been in flux, moreso defined by the movies and IDW comics, much like how Boom dominated the mid 2010’s. You can’t just call the whole 2010’s the point when the series got bad because opinions on those five or so mainline games (to say nothing of spin offs) are all over the place.

Neither of these are helpful to making the different changes in Sonic’s identity easier to parse. They’re easy ways for fans to point fingers and dunk on the parts of the series they don’t like, which just makes fandom division even worse.

Maybe at some point I’ll give my own take on how I personally would define the various eras of Sonic. This was just more to vent about why I feel these two commonly used descriptors are just kinda stupid and unhelpful. Maybe I’m just so tired of the talking points about these two specific vaguely defined labels that I just don’t want to have to look at them anymore, even if I agree with a lot of the criticisms they raise. But I do think these terms aren’t very helpful to fandom discussions.

[thekidsarentalright]

this is highfashionlastchances on my main but PLEAAASE analyze heavens gate if u havent ! its my fav off mania <33 much love

ah heaven's gate is so much! i've never analyzed it before so this excited me a lot!! (important to note real fast is that w my song analysis i don't like trying to look at it from the direct perspective of the author/artist, i much prefer looking at it from the perspective of a story so, just an fyi! Also this is gonna be under a read more bc I wrote so much on accident i’m sorry 😭)

“One look from you and I'm on that faded love / Out of my body and flying above / If there were any more left of me, I'd give it to you / And I'll tell you that I am fine, but I'm a missile that's guided to you” is how the song opens, and it immediately tells us a couple things about the narrator/couple and the themes of the song itself: 1. most obviously, it’s a love song! and the narrator seems to be Very in love 2. that love doesn’t exactly seem to be the most healthy love. The narrator is willing to give All of themselves to their love, to pretend to be fine even though they’re a self described ‘missile’ and their target is their lover. That could be read in a few ways, I think, one perspective is that the narrator is struggling (emotionally/mentally) but is lying about it and despite it still falling in love with the other person (like a guided missile, if you will), another being that our narrator sees themself as being as dangerous as a missile (metaphorically, of course) and that them falling in love will be as catastrophic as a missile hitting its target. Since it’s fob, i think the two ideas work in conjunction with another- the narrator feels they’re dangerous, but can’t help themselves from falling in love anyways, despite the danger. And they fall in love Hard (”One look from you and i’m on the faded love” tells us that). The next lyrics, to me, seem to basically mean that the narrator thinks you (they specifically) could go try and start over your life and yourself as many times as you want, but in the end the result might be the same, they’ll still not get into heaven. So, they want their lover to give them a boost, they want their lover to sneak them into heaven with them and give them a shot at being together forever. Because, everything else is just a substitute for the love the narrator feels (not very healthy, is it?), so they need to get into heaven. The lyrics continue, “ I got dreams of my own, but I want to make yours come true / So please come through, honey please, please come through”, which is the narrator saying, sure, they have things they want to do in their life but they’d much rather make their lovers come true, but they can’t help their lover if they don’t get to be together forever, even in heaven. The narrator is seemingly begging in the second line, perhaps worried their love Won’t come through, perhaps worried their love doesn’t feel the same/as strongly... And the rest of the song is, essentially, reinforcing what I said above: the narrator is convinced they can’t get into heaven no matter how hard they try, they aren’t good enough, their self-esteem is dastardly low and they place all of their worth and love and energy into their partner- especially into the afterlife. The bridge is really the most revealing of this being an unhealthy example of love, ‘you’re the one habit I just can’t kick’... their love is being likened to drugs, an unhealthy habit that they couldn’t get out of no matter how hard they tried, even if they wanted to. Heaven’s gate is the closest thing fob has to a love song, and it is very cute! but in the meat of the lyrics, it’s about an unhealthy, borderline obsessive relationship in which our narrator has Very poor self-esteem, so they base themselves and their life around their partner, they have no worth without their lover. Without getting into heaven with them, the narrator has nothing. Wouldn’t be a fob song if it wasn’t sad, would it?

[whereflowersbloom]

Let me heal you

Jason Todd didn’t hate Bruce or Dick. Nah. Waste of valuable energy. In fact, Jason respected, dare he say even admired his ward and brother. What he despised were their inflexible morals, or rather his family forcing their morals on everyone else. Specially him. We don’t kill. Yes, yes. Fine. What exasperated him was when Bruce decided that his morals applied to everyone else that he took issue. Including the black sheep of the family. He didn’t precisely kill, he let himself go for a single minute. He lost it one time. Batman gave everyone unlimited chances at redemption, except the Red Hood. One mistakes and he’s exiled. In the end it didn’t matter. Nevertheless, he was aware that was not the reason he was angry tonight. No. It was entirely something else.

He could hear her anywhere he was, no matter what time of day or night, what state of sobriety or inebriation, critically wounded. In the dark dangerous streets of Gotham, the sparring ring with the smack of fists and bodies, between the breaths he took as he was falling into the arms of Morpheus. He could always hear Raven. Foolish. She was too far from him. He lived and painfully yearned for her. She was soft curves and he was hard edges. She was a fierce and magical Phoenix while he was a fucking jay with broken wings and a delirious mind. What a catch, Jason.

It drove him mad, how much it didn’t make sense, at all. A soldier wouldn’t fall asleep to a lullaby, but rather the drumbeats of wrath and screams of his opponents. But she was that, for in each beat of her heart Jason heard the call to arms. These complicated feelings, he didn’t remember when they started surging in him. He tried to sort out his feelings, even though he knew that would hurt worse than the burning pain emanating from his cracked ribs. Tsk. He could use a cig right this second.

She was probably at the Manor with Richard, staying in the guest room which was Coincidently next to his old bedroom. And here he was alone, in his modest studio apartment. The pain of his bruised and broken flesh and bones was nothing compared to that excruciating knowledge. Jason rubbed his palms over his weary eyes trying to calm himself. Attempt to dampen the burning rage that was about to send him to a dark place in his mind he didn’t want to think about. He had control. He couldn’t lose control over the voices. Feel the boiling anger, burning in his chest, squeezing his heart. Let the eternal agony that burned through his blood and singed his eyes an unnatural green color. He left that fucking bullshit behind. He loathed the Pit for taking his chance to offer her something...relatively normal.

Since Artemis and Bizarro were gone. Officially, Jason was on his own for the first time in a long while. As he pulled his arms up to finish bandaging his wounds, his shoulders stung and in a gasping breath Jason quickly dropped his arms. He was useless. The pain was worse today than it usually had been. Probably from all the previous battles against Black Mask and his personal army of mercenaries. They had become a pain in the ass. Perhaps a short visit to good Doctor Tompkins would have been a better idea. He cursed breathlessly.

A knock at the door was his only warning before he turned around to see her. Raven opening the door and striding in as if this was her room and not his. Not that this was the first time she sneaked into his apartment.

She was here. It wasn’t a vision or product of his imagination or effect of high dosage of painkillers. He swallowed hard as he found himself speechless, mind blank in her presence. With her dark cloak and hood down, serene expression and looking at him with intense amethyst gems.

He paid a high price after using the pit to have his life back and this anew tremendous strength. But there’s something else, something he’d never felt before. A pull in his chest, as though someone had tied a string to one of his ribs and it was tugging on it, gently but insistently, coaxing him towards her...She was his answer. For a half-demon goddess she was the closest thing to heaven to him. The wings of freedom.

“What is it?” Jason growled harshly. It wasn’t a threat. He simply didn’t want her to see him like this. In such a weak position that he couldn’t even patch up his own damn body. Those little bits of his bloody past stopped him from reaching out to her. What right did he have to ask her to love him despite everything? Indeed he paid a high price.

“Came here to gloat, little bird?” He spat poisonous words with a half smirk. Poisonous words and threats were all he ever had. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly, deeply, getting air into his lungs, refusing to be beaten by this, refusing to be anything less than civil and let her see right through him.

There was no answer. She watched him closely for a moment before slowly closing the distance between her and him. As if she was nervous that he would order her away. Like last time she had been here, her palm caressing his cheek with such tenderness he had forgotten it existed. Her breath was warm against his neck and he was dying to mutter ‘please stay’.

What a joke. Jason Todd. Unapologetically and insanely in love with the little Raven. A Titan. Each atom of his body breathed longing into the space between them, aching to be with her, love her as a whole as it should be. But with a fractured mind, chained with firm mania cuffs. So hateful and yet insanely in love with this creature capable of drowning him in his ashes.

“I came to offer my help healing you but if you don’t want then...” She studied throughly his figure for a solid minute but at his reaction, furrowed forehead formed a thin line. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to regain her elegant composure, taking a step back.

He quickly wrapped his hand around her wrist to stop her from leaving. It was our of instinct or his body ice cold starved for a ray of light. He kept his face clear of the pain his shoulders felt at the movement, but Raven’s eyes flickered to them. A flash of genuine worry. Why he couldn’t apologize and be a gentleman like the golden boy. Damn it. Manners Todd.

“Are you mad at me?” Raven asked serious. She twisted her body around to face him yet she didn’t pry her wrist from his grip that had gentled as soon as he halted her.

Did she want the truth? No. He was mad at himself for not fighting for her. For being weak. For his wickedness. For all his bullshit. But the beat in his chest was now pounding like a hammer against an anvil, erasing the other sounds around him. He could only focus on her.

“No.” Jason forced a chuckled though it lacked the usual mirth. “I’m not mad at you. Which is surprising considering we are usually infuriating each other every other day, sunshine. Missing me much?” Letting her go was far more unbearable than his cracked ribs. She continued staring at him deciding whether he was telling her the truth or guessing what game he was playing tonight.

He felt his body tense in anticipation of her answer. Did she miss him? Did she think of him as often as he did? He considered briefly sending her away though every fibre of his being rebelled against the action.

Raven knew she shouldn’t be here but yet she found herself coming anyway, despite her rationality telling her to run, to flee, to hide, to forget that she ever came here…But something deeper, something stronger, urged her forwards. She didn’t dare fight it any longer. Yes. She missed him every second since their last encounter. She bit her lip out of habit. She was a Titan and he was an outlaw. Different sides of the coin.

“Jason.” Her free hand stretched for his that had loosened from her wrist. His callouses scraped across her skin and she found herself enjoying the touch perhaps too much for her own good. She recalled the last time they made contact. First he gave into it like a malnourished kid offered a piece of bread, but then he rejected it unreasonably. So adamant on pushing her away. Not this time.

Raven let out a heavy and deep sigh.

“How long do you plan to continue this ridiculous dance? Running around in circles.” She asked him openly with a soft voice. Her heart seizing painfully tight in her chest.

As long as it takes for you to leave me, he thought to himself. No answer.

“Jason” Raven repeated his name until his eyes met hers, it was a combination of lake blue and cyan. Impossibly beautiful and perfect, usually brightening with amusement or laughter, slightly shadowed by regret. Except now they were dull with contained sorrow. Let me heal you. All the hurting parts of you.

“Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you reject me?” She spoke with a cracked voice and glassy eyes. Doubting her worth snd pride wounded.

What. No. No. Hell no. The least he ever wanted was to hurt her. His fists clenched with frustration. How could she ever think he was ashamed of her? He adored her with his broken and dammed soul. He was ashamed of himself.

“I’m not ashamed of you.” Jason said with a shake of his head. “I’m disappointed in my own weakness. I could never be whole...” He admitted out loud with the weight of his past deeds and his unpredictable future. He inhaled deeply as he ruffled his dark curls.

She narrowed her eyes in understanding, wetting her lips before speaking. “Jason. You’re stronger then you think. You can deal with this. Don’t let this ruin who you are and what we could have.” She whispered softly, words caught between mustered courage and steady resolve. Voicing the possibility of a ‘us’. There was no point denying their attraction at this point.

One moment he was standing there. Motionless. Then he was moving, moving towards her, closer, before he’s quite given his body permission to do so because he couldn’t just stand there and not hold her.

At that Jason stopped breathing for a moment and his eyes shot to her. He wrapped his arms around her frame, tightening a fraction. His eyes were filled with something Raven was unsure of how to describe even with her empathic abilities. It was a mixture of emotions she couldn’t keep up with. Something she’s seen in him before but no one else.

Surprise. Fear. Worry. But over all happiness. Yes happiness and divine peace.

He stared down at her, a rational protest rising in his throat, the terrified assertion that she can’t help him, she can’t put up with this side of him. The rage and the voices and his uncontrollable anger. But in her eyes he found the answer. She’d already made up her mind. As if she was saying ‘I choose you’. Him. The damaged not charming and righteous Dick.

She could feel Jason’s volatile emotions call to her, voice hoarse and raw from his injuries but distinct and sharp, piercing straight to her soul. Pleading with his spirit. “Please…Stay with me.” She automatically snaked her arms around his neck. Her touch. Merely touching her used to be enough but now he couldn’t get enough.

He had been terrified by what her touch had inspired in him at first, terrified of what he might be able to do to her body if she let him…The things he wanted ro do to her. But unable to stop thinking about it, craving it, his lips on her neck, his strong, hard body pressing hers into the wall of his apartment, not caring anymore about his own physical pain. He pressed a passionate kiss to her lips.

Jason had never believed in soulmates, that was folks tales for mindless romantics. This didn’t change his mind about the topic. One thing was certain, if there was a person whose edged fit his perfectly regardless of the roughness, that would be Raven. She was darkness herself but in his mind she was the sun encasing him in gentle warmth. The stars were meant to reflect in her eyes. If there was a heaven, Raven was the owner of his.

Small jayrae prompt for @alerialblu @ravenfan1242 @amaati @niahti @jasonrae117 @catyypss 💜💖

[readingsbylibramc]

birth chart reading for @melpomenismask

hello! welcome to your reading. I’m gonna give you a quick overview of what I’m going to analyze about your natal chart. feel free to ask me anything if something isn’t clear, of course. you’ll find out your dominants’ influence on your persona, your physical appearance, impression on others and the way you approach the world; your ego, identity, the real you; your reactions, your desires, inner emotions; your way of expressing your feelings, your mind and ideas; your desires and approach to love; your energy tank, instincts and temperament; in-depth analysis of each house with their rulers and analysis of heavy aspects; love life + soulmates/karmic partners interpretation; your relationship with your friends; your family life; your approach to career and work in general + possible jobs suggestion; your style, fashion sense analysis; life purpose and past life description; basic transits’ analysis to describe your current mood and, last but not least, your secret skills, how to make the most out of your soul and manifest what you desire based on your birth chart.

🦋 chart shape, dominants

your chart is a splay shape, meaning that your planets are located randomly in different groups in your chart. people with this type of chart are usually very talented at different things. they can focus their attention on different matters, from family, to work, to love. everything is important for you, and you try to live your life to the fullest. you may be particularly talented at things that require action, it doesn’t matter whether it’s physical or mental. you may be very good at sports, dancing… or maybe you’re good at leading, you could easily be the boss on your work place. since you’re interested in so many things, you could easily be skilled at all of them to be honest. my advice would be to pick the hobby that is most important for you and care about it more than the others. that’s because people with this chart usually tend to do so many things that they may lack precision. it’s better to give all of yourself to what’s important for you.

your dominant planets are venus, mars and the sun. you are definitely a very creative person, you're very charismatic and you have strong ideals. you are quite stubborn, it's hard for you to change your mind once you're convinced of something, but at the same time you also love learning new things and researching. you are quite open-minded.

your dominant sign is taurus. you're a chill person, you prefer staying at home instead of going out and partying. you are quite stubborn, but that's because you're passionate about your ideas and beliefs. you prefer trying and take action, even if you risk to hurt yourself, instead of just standing still and observing. you find comfort helping others; it's a way to feel satisfied both with others and yourself, as you like proving your skills and talents.

your dominant element is earth. you're a loyal and stable individual. you value longevity in your relationships, and that makes you quite picky. you can easily appear as cold, as opening up to someone you don't know well is too much of a risk for you. once you do, though, you'll stay forever. money and material possessions are important for you, as you understand that financial stability is one of the main qualifications in life.

🌎 ascendant in taurus, 13° / 2nd decan ruled by venus and mercury

taurus is ruled by venus, the planet of beauty. therefore, you’re probably very attractive, even if not conventionally. taurus risings usually come off as introverted and shy, you’re probably not much talkative. you’re a homebody, you prefer staying at home reading a good book instead of going out and partying, even though you don’t despise hanging out with your friends either. basically, you’d rather watch a movie with them than going to the disco, for example. you’re a very patient and cautious person; because of that, you may be considered slow, and it may be true, especially in your movements. yet, you just like thinking deeply about a decision, even if it’s just about what to eat for dinner. you don’t want to have regrets. you may also be quite materialistic, and hence you’re extremely careful to how you spend your money. you don’t want to be a burden to someone else, in fact you most likely used to feel guilty to ask your parents for money when you were younger. you’d rather be independent. usually, taurus placements are quite egotistic, but I don’t think it’s exactly your case. your heavy virgo energy points out the opposite; you’re careful to who’re you generous with, but you’re not selfish. you don’t fancy flaky, insignificant relationships. you prefer having long-lasting and intense bonds, you don’t have time to waste. you’re particularly loyal, but you could become too possessive and possibly controlling of your partners or friends. you’re probably not very flexible in life, since taurus is a fixed sign; you’re particularly fond of routine and you don’t like changing it out too often. it’s hard for you to adapt to changes, so you’d rather avoid them at all. taurus risings tend to have a very youthful vibe to them, and they’re usually more on the shorter side, or at least average. I’ve also noticed that they tend to have naturally straight and silky hair, it’s thick and good-looking. it looks very healthy, even if they may barely take care of it. your eyes may be big or at least of average size, and they’re usually hooded, almond-shaped with naturally long lashes. your nose could be a button shape or a french nose but, even if it’s not, it still goes very well with your overall face. your lips are most likely full, even if not necessarily plump. you may also have a defined, distinctive cupid’s bow. you're also quite short or average height.

🌞 sun in aries, 13° / 2nd decan ruled by mars and the sun

even though you enjoy the idea of love and relationships, your independency is what matters the most for you. you possess strong leadership, which makes you aspire for the best positions in work, school, marriage etc. you don't want to lower your standards. aries have the reputation of being fearless, and that's mainly caused by their impulsiveness. in fact, if they actually thought before acting, they wouldn't be aries lol. some people may even define you as selfless, as you literally put yourself in danger or in awkward situations just to say what you truly think, even if nobody asked. it's part of your nature, you don't want to go unnoticed. I don't see you being the one starting conflicts, though, especially with your taurus venus. you probably just lose your temper when someone challenges you (and it may happen often, to be honest). you hate routine; you always try to spice up your daily life a bit by meeting new people and trying new experiences in general. you enjoy having fun, partying, travelling... you thrive in social situations. you may have troubles making right decisions, as you're quite indecisive. but, once you do choose, no one is gonna stop you from achieving your goals and showing the world who you are. in fact, you gain confidence from your assertiveness, making you pretty proud of your persona as well.

aries sun square cancer saturn: during the first years of your life, you were most likely very insecure. probably, your father or any kind of authoritative figure influenced your growth, making you self-conscious about your looks and abilities. they might've been really strict, or at least critical or overprotective of you. you feel the need to be perfect, or at least to meet others' expectations. you may also care too much about what others think about you. you may be a late bloomer, and you could face some hardships in your relationships, but this gets better with time. this probably manifests in your approach to friendships and relationships, making you quite awkward. don't worry, though; as you become more aware of yourself and your potential, saturn's lessons won't seem so harsh anymore.

🌙 moon in virgo, 6° / 1st decan ruled by mercury

this is the purest virgo decan. you want to have everything under control, you can't bear not being organized. you most probably write down your appointments and stuff on an agenda, or perhaps even in the notes app of your phone. you're extremely precise, you want everything to be perfect. you probably care a lot about your appearance; you most likely have a skincare routine, workout... just anything that makes you feel healthy. you love taking care of yourself, especially of your hygiene. you also put a lot of effort in your outfits, you fear not being at your best state. you're a perfectionist, after all. this also project in your home environment; you may clean your house thoroughly, it's most likely all neat. in addition, this mania of yours of being perfect makes you have high standards; in fact, you need people in your life that try as much as you do. you despise lazy people. you probably have a reputation for always being calm and elegant, as you try to avoid conflicts as much as possible. you're very smart and insightful, and you strive for perfection; you want to prove your power to yourself, as it helps you boosting your self-esteem. in fact, it depends a lot on your achievements; if you don't meet your expectations, you start going through a hard time of insecurity and struggles. you love communicating, but you may struggle to find the right words. your eyes talk for you, though. you're also very introspective, and you're fond of art and creativity in general. you're very critical, both of yourself and of others. you don't do it with malice, though, but as I've already mentioned you want to frequent people that try to be at their best all the time, just like you after all.

virgo moon square taurus venus: there are contrasting feelings in your relationships with others; after all, your taurus venus wants to commit to someone and be loyal to them. on the other hand, your virgo moon wants to be independent. you don't want to feel tied to someone, you still need your independency. those two desires of yours probably contrast each other, stressing you out. you want a calm, almost boring relationship, but with this placement you can't seem to have one. your feelings and self-esteem may depend a lot on your relationships, not only with your lovers, but also with your friends. if someone isn't loyal to you, you immediately start blaming yourself. in your life you may lack intimacy, and while it may make you feel better at first, based on the rest of your chart you actually need someone on your side. you can't do everything on your own. you need to find someone that projects your ideals of love. if you need a free-spirit, go look for one. it may take you a while, but if you learn all the lessons you need to learn from your breakups, you'll be able to live a peaceful life with your spouse.

virgo moon square gemini mars: your feelings are very intense. you may tend to react aggressively, or at least overreact. you feel the constant need to express your emotions, but you also want to be understood by others. you tend to be aggressive because you're actually afraid that others may be the first ones to hurt you. you don't really do it with malice, it's your way to defend yourself from eventual enemies. this placement also indicates that your childhood / family life was or will be quite turbulent. to cope with this placement, I'd suggest you to be a little bit more mechanic when you express your feelings. you don't have to hide them, just try not to vent all your anger around.

virgo moon conjunct virgo jupiter: you're an outgoing and warm person, who always tries to make others feel at ease. I assume you try to be nice to everyone, but you can't help but be a little awkward around people you don't know. you go with the flow and don't shy away from challenges. they're moments to prove your potential and abilities. you are an extremely open-minded person, you rarely judge a book by its cover. you probably despise racism, homophobia, misogyny etc. with a passion (as you should tbh). you may also be into poetry, philosophy, and just anything that can stimulate both your mind and feelings. in fact, your mind is constantly wandering somewhere else, allowing you to travel with your fantasy. you're also probably attracted to foreign things, like people, music, fashion, languages, movies etc. you love learning about anything, and you may also have a good memory. in fact, it’s common for you to be the one who explains things and possibly even leads a group, and this could unluckily make you seem as a know-it-all. you do take pride in your wisdom, indeed. your deep way of thinking is also where your desire for freedom comes from, as you wish to be able to expand yourself through travelling and new experiences. when you get angry, you can actually get very rude and offensive, even towards authorities. you’re short-tempered, and you despise being told what to do. you’re also a good, loyal friend, and you’re the type to stand up for them and defend them during a fight.

🗣 mercury in taurus, 0° / 1st decan ruled by venus

this is the most quiet taurus decan, yet also the most precise and analytical. you care a lot about grammar, you don't want to make any mistakes. looking ridiculous is your biggest fear, hence you end up overworking to prove yourself that you're capable to do anything you want. you have a slow way of thinking and speaking. your voice may sound really calm and pleasant to hear, yet still strict and ambitious. you’re probably a good singer, or at least have the potential to become one. you tend to overthink a lot, but you eventually get to a conclusion and stick to it. no one is gonna change your mind. you enjoy learning and working in creative ways; you might enjoy using powerpoints, flashcards or maybe study with your friends, or listening to music. you also probably have a nice, aesthetic handwriting and you like organizing your agenda. your voice is probably very soft and youthful.

❤️ venus in taurus, 29° / 3rd decan ruled by venus and saturn

you seek long-lasting relationships. you're very romantic, and this fixed influence gives you high standards for your partner, you stay back from players. you look for someone you can always count on, and that is willing to support you through thick and thin. it may take you a while to find someone worth to be your lover, but once you find them, you'll always be loyal to them as long as they're respectful. they're your most precious possession, hence you're very jealous and protective of them. if it becomes unhealthy for both you and your partner, it's surely an issue you have to solve, maybe together. you're also the type who likes to be spoiled by their lover, and wants to make lovely gifts as well. these gifts don't have to be expensive, even homemade things are fine. for example, you may melt at the thought of your significant other taking their time and do something exclusively for you, like baking a cake or writing a poem. little gestures that show you their love. in a potential partner, you also care about how they present themselves. I'm not necessarily talking about conventional beauty, but more on a self-care side. you like people who smell good, have a nice fashion sense and maybe people that are quite conceited too (obviously not to the point of narcissism).

💥 mars in gemini, 7° / 1st decan ruled by mercury

you’re driven by the sense of intelligence. your intellect is your greatest strenght, it’s your energy tank. you’re interested in a bunch of things, and hence you may have trouble staying focused on one thing at the time. you probably have tons of hobbies, and you may end up not being much precise since you have tons of things that you have and want to do. you can’t stand boredom, you need your day-to-day life to be exciting and, above all, offer you something new to learn and / or experience. you probably fancy being very active: you go out often, you workout, you may also be the type to love partying and things like that. you’re extremely witty and curious, and you want to live your life to the fullest. you may often change your style, your opinions, maybe even your personality, and that could make you seem confusing and / or unreliable.

gemini mars square virgo jupiter: you easily come off as more assertive and arrogant than you actually are. you say things impulsively, and sometimes you’re too blunt and hurt people’s feelings. you don’t do it on purpose, though, there’s no malice behind your acts; it’s just your natural way to express your opinions. you’re also very competitive, and this may make you look selfish. on a positive side, you probably have a naturally nice body (or maybe you react fast to diet/workout). to cope with this placement, you can try doing something fun to challenge your mind, basically get out of your comfort-zone. of course you don’t have to overdo it, but it would be beneficial. in fact, it’s when you’re both physically and mentally active that you’re able to come up with even better ideas, as you’re full of creativity.

🏡 houses

your 1st house is in taurus, with also mercury and venus placed there. you have a slow, cautious approach to the world. you don’t like rushing things, you prefer taking your time on any decision you make, it doesn’t matter whether it’s about what to wear or even about your future career. you’re fond of arts, creativity and self-expression in general, and people may actually know you for your creativity. you are a fast-thinker, even though that doesn't mean you always take the right choices. in fact, you can change your mind very often. you probably have a beautiful, melodic voice, even though it's likely very loud. you also speak as fast as you think, making it hard sometimes to keep up with you in a speech. you could also switch from a topic to another casually. you don't really enjoy thinking about the past nor the future, you only care about the present and you live it they way you feel; hence, you're not really the type to care about learning from your mistakes. you always see the positive side of them, which can be both good and bad actually. that's because you're quite stubborn, it's hard to make you change your mind. you enjoy fun, exciting relationships. you're the type who's looking for a risktaker, even dangerous partner. you hate boredom, and this may be your weakness regarding this placement; that is, once the relationship starts getting more serious, you feel as if it's going down, when it's actually the opposite. hence, you just run towards a new adventure. this placement may even give you the reputation of being a player, but I don't think it's your case based on your others placements. you have to understand that relationships can get boring, but that's not necessarily a red flag. it just means you two are starting to feel comfortable together. you also enjoy physical contact, therefore cold partners are a no no for you. you need someone who's affectionate yet bold, and that would spoil you with attention and gifts.

your 2nd house is in gemini, mars is also sitting there. you’re probably very intelligent, and your skills are what boost your self-esteem. you’re also capable of doing more than one thing at the same time. you could make money from communication, hence you could become a writer, a singer, a theraphist, a judge, even an influencer. anything that involves the use of words. you may also be quite intelligent, and your intellect and ideas are what make you feel most confident. you love challenging your mind, but you're kind of lazy. you'd rather stimulate yourself through your hobbies and interests rather than using school / work, which are quite stressful for you. you need to find something material and concrete to motivate you and make you assertive. you could study just because you need a good grade, or maybe work just to get paid. you don't really do it with interest, as you care more about nurturing your passions than responsibilities. you're not really into conflicts; you'd rather be peaceful with everyone, as you find it a waste time to argue with someone.

your 3rd house is in cancer. your parents were probably successful in school and university, and they passed down their knowledge to you. maybe, you may have the same interests or passions as them, or perhaps they want you to be academically successful just like them. you may also find yourself talking about your memories, as you’re very attached to them, or even directly about your childhood/parents. saturn is also sitting in this house: you can come off as cold by the way you speak. when you're speaking to someone you're not close to, you choose your words more wisely and patiently; with your friends, on the other hand, you take off your mask and you just act the way you feel to. you may also be the type to give dry answers, such as 'ok', 'alright', 'good' and so on. your tone is calm and placid, while your voice sounds quite youthful, but still with a note of steadiness. you're funny, but your humor is more sarcasm-based. you're not intimidated easily; even when someone tries to argue with you, you don't back up from it. you may dive deep into your mind to find the right answer you to your problem. even if it takes you some time, you manage to find a solution. a downside to this is that you may lack patience. probably, when you were little you started talking / reading later than other kids, and maybe you were teased for that. in the worst case, this placement could also indicate that your mother had a miscarriage.

your 4th house is in leo. your family had great expectations of you, which could have eventually led to anxiety/self-esteem issues. on the other hand, your parents cared about you, and they always made sure that you had everything you needed. if you have siblings, you were most likely the favourite child in the family, or at least you were spoiled by your parents, both with material things and affection. overall, your childhood wasn’t much turbulent, even though your parents most likely were quite strict with you. there could have been lots of arguing as well aside from restrictions, and hence it was hard for you to establish a proper emotional bond with them. because of that, you may feel a little insecure now, as you may constantly feel misunderstood by others.

your 5th house is in libra, with also the moon and jupiter placed there. you’re very creative, and you try to make beauty out of your imagination. you’re probably into music, art, photography, fashion… things like that. you’d also like to experience light romance, and you may enjoy the idea of socializing with others. you feel fulfilled when you’re able to spend time with your loved ones, even though this may make you struggle embracing your indipendence. your hobbies could involve foreign matters, and hence you may be into foreign cultures, languages, or even stuff like movies, music, and so on. you probably have hobbies that broaden your mind, and hence you could also be a very spiritual and / or religious person. you may also have a knack for philosophy, writing, psychology, etc. you can be quite dramatic when you express your reactions; e.g. you scream when you're angry, or maybe you get really loud when you're excited or happy about something. you could also vent your emotions punching things, for example. just like the sun, the heat of your emotions needs to be felt by those who surround you. you just want the best for anyone, even though people may take advantage of this generosity of yours. in addition, you could hardly ever say no, especially to people you're not close to. your heart is aligned with your feelings; you're naturally kind-hearted, you're prone to say things as you feel them. on the other hand, you may not be aware of how your thoughts may influence others. you're also very artistic! you might be into drawing/painting, or at least into art history, or maybe literature, poetry etc. anything that involves creativity and self-expresssion. you can be quite egotistic regarding your emotions: you always try to interpret people's feelings, so you get deeply upset when people don't understand you, especially when they don't even try.

your 6th house is in libra. it’s hard for you to show your love with words, hence you do it with little gestures. you probably remember stuff like their birthday, their favorite food etc., and you wouldn’t mind receiving the same kind of affection back. when it comes to love, you’re not a risk-taker; you probably prefer being courted rather than court others, and if you do it, you make sure that the other person likes you back. you enjoy helping others, you’re the type of friend or lover that wouldn’t hesitate to do favors. yet, you want to be appreciated, otherwise you may just feel used. you may be quite hard to satisfy, but you’re surely very loyal. in your daily life, you could be surrounded by beauty and aesthetically-pleasant places. perhaps you work in fashion, you could be a mua, a hairdresser... you may also find your true love at work, or at least you get to date your co-workers/classmates often. you most likely involve beauty, art, aesthetics and creativity in your daily routine. your home environment probably looks very neat and well-designed. you care a lot about it, as much as you care about yourself; you put a lot of attention in your outfits and looks too, and you most likely love shopping. this is another placement that indicates that your ideal career should serve your need for creativity and self-expression.

your 7th house is in scorpio. you tend to attract very intense partners. your future spouse will be very loyal and fond of you, but they may be a little too obssessed with you. it will be a very intimate relationship, but you may struggle with control. in fact, you’ll most likely be both very possessive and easily jealous, and there may be some arguments regarding this issue. with this placement, you may also attract ‘broken’ people, such as drug dealers, alcoholics, abusers… yet, as I’ve already mentioned, you also have the moon in this house, which makes you luckier when it comes to love. you’ll most likely avoid this type of people, but your relationships will still be very karmic. they may be painful, as you love hard when you fall for someone, but they’ll be crucial for your self-growth. once you find someone right for you, they'll feel like family to you, as if you've known them forever. you'll be able to feel extremely comfortable and free with them.

your 8th house is in sagittarius, with also pluto placed there. you’re very curious when it comes to taboo topics, you like learning about them. you’re probably into conspiracy theories, as well as matters like astrology, tarots, horror, tragedies, mystery... you can use them to transform yourself and grow up, so you could definitely use this birth chart reading to improve yourself. 8th house is also the house of karma, and yours is kind of strange. you may often feel like you’re right about something, e.g the sky is blue. you’re very proud of your observation, but then it turns out to be different. it’s like the universe is constantly teaching you new things. luckily, this is something that gets better with time. in addition, having sagittarius here is great, as jupiter kind of protects you from the 8th house’s malefic themes. all the negative things that could happen to you, are actually blessings that are here to help you. you just need to be a little bit more optimistic, the universe has your back.

your 9th house is in capricorn. you have a pragmatic approach to philosophy, school and experiences in general. for example, you may be the type to plan every day of a travel. at school, you were probably the type to prefer more logical subjects, but I assume that you were good at all of them. yet, you may often get lost in your thoughts and get unmotivated from time to time. you’re also extremely open-minded, you hardly ever have prejudices. you surely don’t judge people from their sexuality, skin colour etc, you actually dislike that kind of things.

your 10th house is in aquarius with also your neptune placed there. you want to stand out from the crowd, you strive to establish your own morals and beliefs. you don’t want to conform to anything and anyone, as you’re a trend-setter and you want to be seen as such. you’d rather have a job where you can handle your work yourself, rather than having a boss. in fact, aquarius in this house makes you extremely resolute and motivated to achieve your goals and be independent. you may not be much interested in love, and if you are, you don’t overlook career either. having a stable and successful future that makes you happy is the key for happiness in your life. it could take you some time at first to be recognized for your efforts. you may easily experience 'almost-winner’ situation, and hence you could often make silly mistakes that ruin your work. it’s important to be focused when working, especially for you. yet, once you know how to balance this tricky energy and get your stuff together, you’ll earn a reputation for being an innovative and original person. you may be quite artistic, creative and emotional, you’ll probably focus your life on self-expression. with mars in this house, you are most likely going to be independent at work, you'll most likely have your own business. you could possibly work online as well, you could earn money through the internet.

your 11th house is in pisces. uranus is also sitting there. you probably had problems with your friendships in your early years. you could have been too shy to approach people, hence you struggled to befriend them. or maybe, you used to gossip around, and that led you to lose them. or perhaps, you’re too work-oriented to find some spare time to hang out with others, and hence you end up losing your bond with them. in the best case, you may have quite spiritual / religious friends, or perhaps they’re your soulmates, they were a part of your past life. you have this habit of idealizing them a bit; that is, you may be too picky in choosing your friends. you’re probably looking for the type of friend that’d literally throw themselves under a car to save you, but it’s hard to actually find someone like that. open up more and accept others as they are. you don’t necessarily need to be with them for a long time, but make sure to learn your lessons from them.

your 12th house is in aries. the sun is also sitting there. there’s this side of you that is very bold and daring, but you struggle to let it out. it’s hidden in you, and you only show this side of yourself to those who can understand you. you’re also extremely scared of physical violence, like rape, fights, wars… they’re probably your deepest fears. the sun in this house gives you a weak sense of identity, you may struggle to figure yourself out. because of that, you may be drawn to tools like astrology, tarots, mbti, ect. to learn more about yourself. you could want to be seen as bolder than you are, hence you could struggle with identity crisis, especially during your teenage years. you have your own morals and beliefs, but you could feel influenced by others to change yours. luckily, this is something that gets better with time, as you start being more aware of your persona and you start loving yourself. you're most probably a very complex individual. you're a sort of chameleon; you act differently based on where you are and who you're with. you could be a savage with someone, an introvert with someone else.

❤️ love life, soulmates

in love you attract scorpio, gemini, virgo, sagittarius, capricorn, cancer and aquarius. your future spouse will most likely have aquarius and capricorn traits; they’ll be extremely intelligent and astute, with a great thrist for knowledge of any kind. yet, they’ll also have a warm, soft, almost childish vibe to them that will make you feel like a teenager again. you’ll most likely meet them in your natal country, during or after a period of growth and transformation in your life. they’ll also be probably older than you. your children will have virgo, cancer and sagittarius traits as well: they’ll be extremely intelligent and witty, maybe a bit too paranoid and moody, but also very fond of their parents, especially of you. they’ll love playing around, but they could be a bit immature. they’ll also love being spoiled with affection, as well as material things.

👶🏻 family life

your mother is probably very hard-working, and she has a strong role in your family. she loves being spoiled and appreciated, together with receiving attention. yet, she could sometimes be quite superficial because of that, but deep down she’s very romantic and mannered. she may have leo placements, or maybe aquarius, capricorn, pisces or scorpio. your father is a bit more unpredictable, he could be moody and therefore you may argue with him more often, and he might be an aquarius or have any type of water/sagittarius placement in his chart. yet, he also has a very sweet and outgoing side to him that he may struggle to let out. if you have siblings, they’re probably cancers/water signs. you have a very pleasant relationship with them, you're all very playful and generous and you used to always stand up for each other, even though there could have been a bit of competition between you.

📊 career

as I’ve already mentioned above, you most likely have great communication skills and writing abilities. you’re very logical and precise, you’d definitely do well in a field that requires calm and organization. I can also picture you being an amazing teacher or even professor. based on your other placements, you could also do well at literally any creative career! you may be a dancer, a singer, or even something more complex like a creative director. otherwise, you could also be successful as a designer of any kind, an architect, a scientist… something that allows you to be mostly independent, but that can still guarantee you mental stimulation and a decent income, and that also allows you to use your creative venusian energy. I also see you working in the spotlight, you could possibly become a celebrity or at least you may get famous on the internet.

👚 fashion sense, style analysis

with your heavy venus presence, I'm sure you're very elegant. even if you're just wearing a sweatshirt with pants, you still manage to make it look so expensive and particular. you may like pastel, light colours, or even earthy shades like kaki, brown etc. you prefer using comfortable clothes, but you definitely know how to dress up when you have to. you might also be very fond of accessories, like jewellery and bags. you may also enjoy buying designer clothes, but even if they're cheaper, you want them to be of a nice quality. you may also enjoy going thrift shopping, as you may like wearing 'timeless' items, such as white shirts, blazers, coats, classic heels... basically, versatile clothes that are a must in your wardrobe, as they've always been trendy. you could also love oversized fits, as well as 80s/90s aesthetic.

👁 past life, life purpose

in your past life, the focus was on your relationships with others. maybe, you had troubles with self-esteem and identity in general and you used to depend on others. you had to work hard and finally understand how to build healthy relationships with others to fulfill your past life purpose. hence, this lifetime your focus will be yourself. even though at first you might feel quite insecure, this lifetime you're here to develop this matter. after all, saturn will give you many lessons in order to transform yourself and grow into a better person.

🤔 major transits analysis / september 14

the sun is currently in virgo, meaning that it's transiting your 5th house conjunct your jupiter and moon conjunction. this is an extremely positive time for you! in fact, having the planet of abundance and luck conjunct the planet of energy means that you're motivated to work hard and achieve your goals! it's the best time to start a diet, a workout routine, study, dive into a new hobby... you're also probably feeling very confident in these days, you feel the need to step out of your comfort-zone.

🧿 manifest what you want, secret skills

your secret skills revolve around finances and just security in general. with a positive attitude, you may attract material luck: money, clothes, houses… everything that you desire. since you’re a logical person, I assume the most efficient way for you to manifest through the LOA is writing! take a notebook and just write down positive affirmations, such as 'I have the car of my dreams’ etc. you may also write them on post-its and glue them around your house, so that you can accelerate the progress. you can also try to idealize your wish before trying to manifest it. for example, if you want a new sweatshirt, try to imagine yourself wearing it. you could also go into a shop and actually try that sweatshirt it on; being in contact with it will boost the law of attraction even more.

and this is it! thank you again for booking a reading, hope it resonated with you :)

-libramc xx

[caravagest]

Tunnels

1.2K words - Short story - Undefined genre - Read on Google Docs

Warnings for unreality.

“My point is,” said the clown, perched upon a chair in a way very unlike sitting and busy picking at the laces of his colorful boots, “that there isn’t really a difference between earth and sky, or above and below. We just made that up.”

The snob puffed on his pipe. The pipe, here, is not an actual pipe, but rather a tunnel; at least, this is what the clown would say. The snob, for his part, would say the pipe is wood, and perhaps a tunnel has been carved through the wood, if you really would reduce a tunnel to a passage for things like smoke, rather than a passage for things like people, but he would argue that what constitutes the pipe is the wood, and not the hole through the wood. They would have another debate on this topic, if it came up. Instead, the snob exhaled through the tunnel of his mouth-and-nose, and shook his head.

“There clearly is a difference. You’re on the ground. The ground is what supports you. If there wasn’t a difference, then you’d just float up into the sky.”

“Nuh-uh,” went the clown, playing at knotting his laces and undoing the knot again, and not looking at the snob, who at least had the decency to attempt eye contact. The clown was just like that, though. “I am simply in the middle-way.”

“You can’t say that,” said the snob, who by nature was very involved in what people could or could not say, and also in what they could or could not believe, such as that he was very uncomfortable with the tunnel thing. “You can’t just say ‘the middle-way’, like that’s a thing. That’s not a thing. I don’t know what that means.”

“Like the deep-sea fish,” said the clown, commencing on a different subject yet making it seem like he was giving an explanation. “They’re in the middle-way of the ocean. Water below and water above. They don’t go deeper. They don’t go higher. We do the same.”

“But we aren’t surrounded by water. Air and dirt are clearly different.”

The clown didn’t pick at that one – having, most likely, determined that this preoccupation of the snob’s thinking was below him, which was sure to frustrate the snob, who liked to think himself higher than everyone else.

“It’s all the same,” said the clown, not for the first time. “Above and below, there is just water.”

“You can’t even explain it yourself. How does it make sense if you can’t explain it?”

There was a silence. Perhaps the clown considered the argument. Most likely, he didn’t; he rarely did.

“The one difference,” he said finally, sounding like he thought this was a compromise, “is that the below is already dug out, but we are still digging into the above.”

“Still speaking nonsense.”

“Towers” - the clown made a gesture of his hands, grasping at thin air and pulling it up – “are tunnels. We just imagine them as towers, because we think we are building. But we are digging.”

“See, here’s where your reasoning fails, alright,” started the snob, becoming agitated as he found a good counterpoint. “If building a tower is just digging upward, why isn’t building anything digging? Why does it need to be a tower?”

“Because a dip in the ground isn’t a cave.”

“So you acknowledge the ground!”

“I acknowledge the cave.”

This at least was not a point of contention; the clown always acknowledged the caves, too much, probably, and uncomfortably so. The snob would have liked him to acknowledge the caves less. He would have liked to sometimes be permitted to forget the caves, and to think himself on solid ground - a concept the clown disagreed with on a philosophical level.

At times, too, the clown would enter these frenzied states, these episodes of mania, where the caves would be all he could think about. In these times the clown would become more talkative yet less intelligible. He would ramble on and on, in circles, in descending spirals, about the bowels of the earth - literal bowels, digestive systems, he called them. The clown would mention the call, too, of the caves, and the ocean; the ocean, he said, was where the caves led, after all. Not all of them (he presumed not to know what all of the caves wanted), but certainly many; water in the caves moved and trickled, and went down and down somewhere, and at the very end, the thin-stretched end of the tinny sounds of dripping, they would need to flow into the ocean. The clown, who talked of the cave more than he talked of the ocean, but yet talked of both too much for the snob’s comfort, said the ocean was a destination, but the caves the passage, and, again on a philosophical level, he insisted the passage was more relevant. 

“There is no word,” he might say, “to describe the transient space, that does not presume it is limited to its duty, that does not summarize it by its destination. If there was a word, for a travel-place removed from its purpose, that is what the caves would be.”

The snob thought there might be something to be said, a joke somewhere, about this downward spiral-pattern of the clown’s thinking, considering the clown’s deep-seated fear of spiral staircases. The snob wondered if there was something about the clown’s severe vertigo, and all the nonsense about tunnel-towers. The snob wondered if he could argue that the clown must know there was a difference in above and below, for the clown was terrified of looking down from a high place, but loved to stare up at the sky. Mostly, the snob figured he ought to leave it alone, lest he trigger another sterile debate.

In the times the clown was not manic, one could almost believe he’d forgotten all about the tunnels. He would be normal again; he would hold mundane conversations on topics the snob fully understood, and even looked down upon. He would talk weather and vacation days and shopping-for-new-colorful-boots. Whenever the snob got the idea that the clown had forsaken the abyss, though, he would bring it up again - a mention of a tall building would have him refer to the caves, and there was the gaping, incomprehensible void again, the monster that fascinated him. And the clown would think little of it and continue to speak mundanely; and the snob would remain, thinking of the depths - the quiet, dark, wet depths below, the quiet, bright, wet depths above.

“Don’t you feel them calling?” the clown would say some nights, when he was neither raving nor bland. “Don’t you feel them below, above, asking you to dig yourself in?”

“No,” the snob would say, hoping against hope that it was enough to deny it, and that he could convince him; that perhaps the clown would nod along dumbly, and smile, and say ‘me neither’.

“I hear it all the time,” said the clown nevertheless. “Most of the time, I just tune it out.”

And the snob knew - knew in the way, perhaps, that the clown knew what he knew of the tunnels and the gaping voids that beckoned to him, knew what he knew of the venous system of passages to the sea, knew what he knew of the vertiginous heights below - that one day, and it would be impossible to tell when, one day, he wouldn’t tune it out.