#lin at the summer court

[sebastianswallows]

Beautiful memories — Chapter 1

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (aged up)

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is sentenced to Azkaban for six months. When he is released, he finds MC is expecting a child, and is filled with anger and jealousy and confusion. He just doesn't know the child is his yet.

— WARNINGS: angst, just a lot of angst (eventually there will be fluff and smut, but in later chapters)

— WORDCOUNT: 2.7k

— A/N: This fic is for a prompt by @pugsnotdrugs92, and I was also asked to write a similar fic by at least one anon.

Sadly, since she gave me that prompt, Pugs has deleted her blog. I have just learned this tonight and I am... pretty damn upset, I'll say that (not at her of course 💗, but at what caused it).

I will just say that if you get hate from anyone, block them, block indiscriminately until you have peace. I hope that Pugs (and anyone who deleted their blog as part of this mess) will make an account on this hellsite again one day <3

Anyway! On with the fic. Hope you enjoy it, my dears 🌺

Nobody had any idea who turned Sebastian in. It came so unexpectedly that they almost didn’t believe it when he happened. After all, it had been two years since Solomon’s death, and everyone in Feldcroft believed he died in his sleep.

“I know it isn’t me,” she said tearfully to Ominis one day, “and I know it isn’t you.”

“And it wasn’t Anne either,” said Ominis with a shake of his head.

“Are you sure? She still isn’t speaking to Sebastian.”

“She protected him this whole time, why would she report him to the ministry now? She might not forgive Sebastian, but she wouldn’t do this to him…”

Their suspicions fell on Leander, or the goblins, or any number of rivals Sebastian had made, but none of their suspects were likely to even know the truth about what happened that day in the catacomb. It therefore stood to reason that someone had overheard them speaking about it at some point, but that did little to narrow it down — for all they knew, one of the portraits had heard them and reported it to the Headmaster.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter who told the Aurors about it. The trio rushed through their N.E.W.T.S. half-heartedly, with Sebastian unsurprisingly scoring lower than he ever had, and in their spare time they spoke of nothing but the upcoming trial.

They’d even arranged for a solicitor for Sebastian, and visited him via floo in London, but he only spoke to his client in private. And every time Sebastian walked out of the wizard’s office, he looked more discouraged than the last.

The trial took place during summer, right after their 7th year ended. Both she and Ominis attended it every day. Imelda came sometimes as well, and Poppy, and Lucan — even Garreth attended on two occasions. He’d never liked Sebastian much, but he seemed to put aside his feelings throughout all of this.

“They don’t mean to send him there, do they?” he whispered as they sat outside the courtroom one sweltering afternoon.

“Where else?” said Imelda. “They closed all the other wizarding prisons centuries ago.”

“But he’s supposed to have done it while he was still a student…”

“What d’you expect? That they’ll give him detention for murder?”

“No, but…”

“You don’t think he really did it, do you, Imelda?” asked Poppy, leaning over Garreth.

“He didn’t,” said Ominis without even glancing their way.

“That’s right,” she said from beside Ominis. “Sebastian’s done nothing wrong.”

The trial went badly almost from the start. The judge was a grey old wizard in a funny wig, and there was no jury to speak of. He seemed to treat the death of a former Auror, even one of such ill repute as Solomon, quite seriously. The Prosecution leaned into that every chance they got.

Anne was called to give testimony in the first week, and she confessed under oath what she had found when she reached the catacombs, which was enough to shock the court. Sebastian’s friends took courage from the fact that she had not actually seen what killed Solomon, but it was only a matter of the judge drawing a line between a quick succession of events.

Ominis was called to the stand as well, but lied shamelessly. Even the threat of Veritaserum from the Prosecution didn’t sway him. He knew none of them would dare submit a Gaunt to that — a rare occasion of his family name amounting to something. However, him being Sebastian’s oldest friend cast doubt upon his entire deposition…

And then, she was called to give testimony as well. Unlike Ominis, she was not sure she could afford to lie, but nothing could get her to betray Sebastian.

All that she could remember was that Solomon attacked the both of them, and both she and Sebastian felt quite threatened by him, and then somehow, between the flying curses and roving Inferi, Uncle Solomon fell dead. But that happened, after all, more than two years ago, Your Honour, and it was in a dark and gloomy cave — and oh, what were they doing there? Objection. Relevance?

Ominis and the others congratulated her on well she held her own, but deep down, she felt like she had let her best friend down — her statement didn’t put the blame on Sebastian, but neither did it exonerate him.

By the time the trial was approaching the end, their former classmates had stopped coming, and only she and Ominis were left.

“He looks so —”

“I know,” said Ominis, not wanting to hear her describe him. This was on the last day, and the judge would give the verdict.

Guilty. Six months in Azkaban.

The courtroom reverberated with murmurs from the crowd — some in approval, others in outrage.

It was a horrible sentence to hear, but it was not as bad as their worst fears — people were often given life imprisonment for the Unforgivables. Fortunately, in Sebastian’s case, there was not enough conclusive evidence either way. Still, if they were to appeal, it would take longer than six months to even have a new judge assigned to the case, so they were left with no choice but to accept it.

As the Aurors led Sebastian away, she and Ominis stood together and called out useless encouragements to their friend, telling him to have courage, to be strong, have faith that he would soon be free, but he went with the guards without looking back at them…

Most of their former classmates were shocked but seemed to think the six-month sentence would pass quickly. They knew Azkaban was pretty horrible and could remember a few things from their DADA class, but none of them was truly educated on the nature of Dementors. Ominis was. He’d been in their presence when he and his father went to visit an uncle of his who’d been sentenced for murdering a muggle. He claimed it was the worst experience he’d ever had in his life — worse than Crucio, in its own way. He still remembered how the despair lingered inside him for days.

And as time passed, she became aware of something lingering within herself as well…

By the fourth month, she had to use concealment charms around her waist when she went out in public. Ominis figured it out on his own — it was probably that echolocation spell he used to get around. He’d merely been suspicious at first, but by the fifth month…

“Can anyone else see?!”

“No, and they won’t if you just stop —”

“But this could ruin your reputation!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!”

“I can’t believe you! How c—”

“Ominis, shut up,” she hissed.

“But you —”

“It’s Sebastian’s!”

“… Oh. I suppose that makes it better, then.”

From then on, Ominis supported her and helped her in any way he could — which admittedly wasn’t much, as he was still getting used to living on his own after being freed from his family’s clutches. And either way, the first few months were gentle enough on her that she could cope well enough on her own. The only help she needed was preparing her small flat to host two people — and eventually three — which meant some creative furniture transfiguration to fit everything in too small a space.

Christmas arrived in the meanwhile, then the New Year. They had tried writing to him every month by then, but the authorities kept sending their letters back — none were allowed for fear of concealed enchantments, they said, and no visitations were allowed either for lower-class prisoners. It broke her heart to know him all alone throughout those rotten months and all through the holidays. Neither she nor Ominis found it in them to celebrate anything that year…

Sebastian was released in February. They wouldn’t be allowed on the island of Azkaban, but they could see him at the Ministry, where he would be transported before he was officially freed.

She and Ominis got there at sunrise, and waited for hours.

Sebastian’s assigned solicitor couldn’t be there, as he had another case, but he sent a house elf to sign the release form in his name. Anne hadn’t come either, but that was hardly a surprise…

The two of them sat alone in a busy hallway, watching witches and wizards pass through — some going in, some going out — until finally, late in the afternoon, the Auror at the front desk told them that inmate Sallow would be arriving within minutes.

“Here, here, they said this will be the exit,” she said, pulling on Ominis’ sleeve.

Two large wooden doors lay open out of which a long dark hallway extended like a neck, and on either side were doors being shut and open of ministry workers travelling through. There was constantly a small crowd of people darkening that space even further.

“I think that’s him,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes when she spotted a dark ruffled head of hair.

“Alright, stay calm,” said Ominis, taking her hand to settle her. Since he’d realised that she was pregnant, he was instinctively more protective.

“Oh, it is! It is him!” she said with tears in her happy voice.

Sebastian was led out of one of those side doors — dressed in a grey and black prisoner’s uniform, his hands and feet chained, terribly thin and tired and bent at the back, and looking as if he hadn’t slept for days…

“Sebastian!” she called out, waving to him with the hand that wasn’t in Ominis’ grasp. “Over here!”

He looked up slowly, as if doubting that he’d heard his name called. His eyes searched blearily through the crowd ahead, not really focusing anywhere, but then they fell on her. She grinned brightly when she caught his gaze.

“Y-you came?” he said, looking at the two of them like they were a dream come true.

“Of course,” she said.

“Surely you didn’t expect anything else,” grinned Ominis.

“I… I need to go somewhere, they’re taking me to… to…” He didn’t have time to explain before Aurors led him around the corner and to another room, for processing.

“We’ll be here,” she called out after him, “we’ll wait for you!”

“How does he look?” whispered Ominis. “He sounded quite weak.”

“He looks… the way he sounded,” she said, “but he’ll be alright… He has to be. We’ll make sure of it.”

Less than thirty minutes later, Sebastian stepped back outside. He was now dressed the way he was when they arrested him: a faded green sweater and black trousers with worn old leather shoes. The clothes hung on his lanky frame, his face was all angles and shadows, and he looked as if he hadn’t had a wash in the whole six months. He was, of course, without his wand as well — they’d broken that after his sentencing.

But there was a still little light still left in his eyes, and it shone when he saw his friends again. He called out her name and Ominis’, and walked toward them with feeble brisk steps.

“I can’t believe it,” he grinned weakly, his steps growing bolder the closer he got to his friends. “I never thought —”

But then he noticed their joined hands, and her swollen stomach, and it nearly stopped him in his tracks. He only caught the sight for a second before she let go of Ominis and rushed to embrace him.

“Seb,” she cried out as she jumped into his arms. She clung to his neck like a lifeline. “I’ve missed you so much…”

“I’ve… missed you too,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.

She buried her face in his neck while Sebastian’s eyes fell to Ominis — who embraced him too from the other side in an uncharacteristic display of affection, before he stood back timidly.

“How… erm, how are you?” he asked with a nervous smile, feeling more happy than he cared to admit, and relieved to have his friend back in one piece.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Sebastian. Gently, he dropped the girl from his arms and slowly pulled away.

“Of course,” she said, wiping her tears and stepping back, but keeping his hand clasped in hers. “You don’t have to. You don’t have to say anything. We just came to take you home. It’s alright now… You’re free, you’re finally back. We’ve missed you so much…”

“Home?” said Sebastian, looking between her and Ominis coolly. “Whose home is that?”

“Well… whichever one you want,” she said. “Yours or mine or…”

“I don’t think I’m ready to see Feldcroft again,” said Sebastian. “But I wouldn’t want to… impose on either of you.”

“What?” frowned Ominis. “Don’t be stup— I mean, don’t worry about that, Sebastian.”

“Oh, is there something to worry about?” he asked.

“Well —”

“We don’t need to discuss that —”

“— here.”

“— now.”

“… I see.”

“Don’t concern yourself with anything,” she smiled, stepping up to him again and embracing him loosely. “Let’s leave this horrible place first…”

They made their way out of the ministry building and through the cold London streets toward Diagon Alley, and his friends talked to him excitedly about the things that had happened: what their former classmates were doing, what they knew about Anne, even the latest Quidditch matches.

They probably felt less cheerful than they seemed, but their enthusiasm was overflowing as they prattled on about all the normal things people their age should care about, almost as if nothing bad had happened at all. They laughed, and smiled, and rubbed his back, and all the while there was in Sebastian’s gait much of the same imprisoned and defeated look as there had been when he was led out of the courtroom at his sentencing.

“We wrote to you while you were there,” she said as they approached the Leaky Cauldron.

“But the damned guards never delivered them,” said Ominis.

Sebastian listened in silence, and they tacitly agreed it was because of what he had been through. He would open up to both of them in time, they were certain…

They decided to have lunch at the Cauldron since neither of them had eaten anything since morning — and they didn’t even wish to think of the food in Azkaban. They ordered sausages and eggs and mashed potatoes and a great big serving of pickled pumpkin.

Sebastian ate the least out of the three of them — and what he didn’t finish, she devoured. Ominis hid his chuckle behind a cough, while Sebastian could barely look at her. If she noticed it, she didn’t say. She just kept smiling and laughing along with Ominis…

More than ever in Azkaban, he wished he could dig a hole for himself through which to disappear. The Leaky Cauldron was noisy and crowded, the smell of food made his stomach turn, and every scrape of a chair was like a scratch across his brain. Even sitting down was uncomfortable, his muscles too thin and his back too weak to hold him. He moved uncomfortably from one position to another, and let his friends prattle on to fill the emptiness between them.

After almost an hour, they decided to leave, and Sebastian nodded in agreement.

“I’m seeing someone at the ministry next Wednesday about a position,” said Ominis as they walked toward the fireplace. “But I can stop by afterwards if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” she said. “You’re always welcome, you know that.”

“Do you have enough chocolate at home? I can bring some more.”

“Shelves full of it,” she laughed. “But more is always a good idea. I suspect we’ll need it.”

“Well, I’ll bid you two goodbye for now, then,” said Ominis as he waved them off, blissfully oblivious to what was going through Sebastian’s mind.

“Goodbye,” she said with a tearful smile, letting go of Sebastian for a brief while to hug their friend once more.

“I’ll let you know before I arrive on Wednesday.”

“Not to worry, Ominis. We’ll be alright… Everything will be alright now.”

“I hope so…”

“And good luck with your interview!”

“Thank you… Although I’m not sure I want it.”

“Thank you, Ominis,” said Sebastian tiredly. “For… everything.”

“Don’t be silly,” he smiled. “I’m glad to have you back. We both are. Just focus on getting well again…”

Sebastian nodded, not feeling that any of their kind words were true. He disappeared in the green flames with her, wishing for once to not appear on the other end.

[chinesehanfu]

【Historical Reference Artifacts】:

China Ming Dynasty Hanfu Relics<大红色四兽朝麒麟纹妆花纱女袍>,Collection of Shandong Museum,China

Ming Dynasty Emperor Wanli bestowed Japan Toyotomi Hideyoshi's robe(赐服)<赤地云龙纹斗牛袍>

China Ming Dynasty Hanfu Relics<大紅雲肩通袖麒麟圓領>

China Ming Dynasty Hanfu Relics：<红色妆花纱云肩通袖膝襕蟒袍>,Confucius Museum,China

China Ming Dynasty Portrait of Kong Hongxu/孔弘绪, the 61st generation of Yansheng Gong (descendant of Confucius)

[Hanfu・漢服]Chinese Ming Dynasty(1368-1644 AD)Traditional Clothing Hanfu Photoshoot

亦男亦女 ​​​

【About 赐服/Cì fú in Ming Dynasty】

<赐服/Cì fú> is a kind of clothing system. The imperial court rewarded meritorious men or woman with crowns and clothes to show their favor. Its system is complicated and diverse, there are “four-season clothes/四時衣", five-season clothes/五時衣” or Gesha/葛纱 and mink according to the seasons; there are Gongfu/公服 and flowers according to the seasons; etc. The clothes bestowed are usually higher than the rank of the recipient.

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Five-season clothes/五時衣：Attire of five different colors worn in five seasons in ancient times.

Four-season clothes/四時衣:Different Attire worn in four different seasons of spring, summer, autumn and winter

Gesha/葛纱:Gauze woven from kudzu fiber.

Gongfu/公服:one of the official attire

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Clothing is a daily need, but because it is the emperor's reward that endows the meaning of class, it has become a symbol of the imperial class and the emperor's favor. Use highly recognizable patterns on the clothing to show status and class, making clothing a channel for "showing off wealth". Anyone who can wears <赐服/Cì fú>is a courtier who is valued by the emperor.

The <赐服/Cì fú> of the Ming Dynasty are divided into four levels：Qilin robe(麒麟服),DouNiu robe(斗牛服), Feiyu robe(飛魚服), python robe(蟒服)

The Fourth-Class is Qilin robe(麒麟服):

The qilin (Chinese: 麒麟) is a legendary hooved chimerical creature that appears in Chinese mythology, and is said to appear with the imminent arrival or passing of a sage or illustrious ruler.Qilin are a specific type of the lin mythological family of one-horned beasts. The qilin also appears in the mythologies of other Chinese-influenced cultures.

Because the Qilin is a beast of benevolence and righteousness in the legend, the emperor of the Ming Dynasty regarded the Qilin robe as a gift and rewarded meritorious officials of the fourth and fifth ranks. Although Embroidered Uniform Guard(錦衣衛)on-duty guards are not high-ranking officials, they are also allowed to wear Qilin robe(麒麟服) because of their special positions.

The Third-Class is DouNiu robe(斗牛服):

DouNiu(斗牛) is not an ordinary bull(公牛), but a legendary horned dragon(虬龙). The DouNiu(斗牛) is like a dragon with sharp horns, a python-shaped fish tail, and two horns bent like ox horns.Those who can be awarded DouNiu robe(斗牛服) include officials of the third rank and above, generals who have made meritorious service in guarding the frontier, and people who have received special rewards. There are also examples of officials or celebrity families being rewarded with DouNiu robe(斗牛服), but these are exceptional and rare. DouNiu(斗牛) was originally a star in the sky, so the recipient thinks that he has received great glory.

The Second-Class is Feiyu robe(飛魚服):

The prototype of the Feiyu(飛魚/Flying fish) is the 文鳐鱼(a legendary fish with wings) in the "山海经/Classic of Mountains and Seas", which evolved into a python-shaped flying fish in the late Ming Dynasty. ↓文鳐鱼(a legendary fish with wings) in the"山海经/Classic of Mountains and Seas"

The image of the flying fish in the Ming Dynasty has two horns on the dragon's head and no wings on the fins, retaining the characteristic of the rolled tail.

Feiyu(飛魚/Flying fish) robe are generally rewarded to meritorious officials of the second rank or above,High-ranking eunuchs lead, and Embroidered Uniform Guard(錦衣衛). However, not all Embroidered Uniform Guard(錦衣衛) are eligible to wear flying fish robe, only the commanders of Embroidered Uniform Guard(錦衣衛), the emperor's personal school lieutenant and the guard of honor accompanying the emperor, these powerful confidantes of the emperor are eligible to wear them.

The Highest-Class is Python robe(蟒服):

The highest level of <赐服/Cì fú>in the Ming Dynasty was python robe(蟒服), second only to the dragon robe worn by the emperor. The python pattern is very similar to the dragon pattern, the only difference is that the dragon has five claws and the python has four claws. Python robe(蟒服) are generally only awarded to 司礼监's eunuchs, ministers of the cabinet(内阁辅政大臣), ministers and counselors of the Ministry of War(兵部尚书参赞), and princes and heads of foreign vassals. Adding a Python robe(蟒服) represents prosperity and wealth. A jade belt is required to wear the python robe(蟒服), and there are two types: sitting python(坐蟒) and moving python(行蟒). In terms of dignity, sitting pythons are higher rank than walking pythons.

※司礼监:is an eunuch in charge of the emperor's documents, seals, palace etiquette, etc.

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📷Photo：@realyn

💄Stylist：@仰望的花鼻子

👗Hanfu：@青山有幸 ​​​

🔗Weibo：https://weibo.com/5541803701/N77vXcOBE

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[1800naveen]

Real life places I think that the Courts are based on

Spring Court: Scotland, obviously. Tamlin originates from the ballad of Tam Lin, a Scottish folklore story. And Scottish people have awesome accents, I'm jealous.

Summer Court: Either East Africa, West Africa, and/or the Caribbean. I'm East African myself so I'm biased and put that in there ����.

Autumn Court: This is a tough one but I'm going with Germany.

Winter Court: Russia, like all that snow and winter, it just fits.

Dawn Court: Asia. Mainly South Asia and East Asia.

Day Court: Ancient Greece, because of the outfits and stuff. (SJM said that she sees Helion as Persian but I see him as a black guy).

Night Court: America. A shitty government with citizens they don't care for unless it's a place with a bunch of other rich people or privileged people.

If you think otherwise, share a comment or reblog with your idea!

[shadowqueenjude]

about the dawn court people being east Asia inspired - feyre says something when she sees Nuan at the high lord meeting about how Amren must have chosen a fae form similar to Nuan's bloodline. If Amren is east-asian coded, so is Nuan and thesan too, having at least one parent hailing from xian (am i reading too far into xian sounding so stereotypical, maybe, do i care rn, no). they also say that a majority of the dawn court hails from xian. thesan is supposed to have brown skin (again, please give a better descriptor) so he's mixed.

no one's clothes or architecture reflects anything concrete regarding their inspiration and its such a hodge podge it's so painful to try to discern where the differentiation between courts are. Spring court - because of the name tamlin correlates to a myth about a guy named tam lin who is kind of being held captive by the queen of faeries who needs to be rescued by his mortal lover that he met like suuuper recently, I'm placing the spring court in a place that reflects a medieval scotland. clothes are fairly accurate not in detail but in the sense of material and idk just general existence (women wear dress, man wear breeches, idk) I love that! so simple! Everything makes sense! So then why in dawn are we having technological advances in a steampunk sort of way and similar "old fashioned" clothes to spring, but then in the night court (velaris, the other's i think are fairly period accurate), there are all these advancements in fashion like leggings and pullover sweaters and whatever else she's wearing in the last two books, yet they have the same tech as everyone else barring dawn. (Doing a small pass on the bodysuit armor things because I'm just assuming that's people's artistic interpretations of her visions)

ALSO, how are they self sufficient if they're a closed off city? They aren't harboring secret technology that helps their city run, they are one city and also A CITY so like, no resources, no agriculture. who tf are they getting their things from if they are an invisible city that no one knows about? same thing with how they're getting trades that they wouldn't have been able to make themselves. Also, at this point I would like to propose the idea of wing armor. you have siphons which can idk make shields. HAVE YOU TRIED SHIELDING YOU'RE VERY SENSITIVE AND MASSIVELY TARGETED WINGS FROM DANGER?? in conclusion I'm tired and also a fashion/history nerd, okay bye

Ahhhh yes I see what you mean about Dawn now! Yeah, I always imagine Spring to be like medieval Scotland, and I'm guessing Autumn is medieval England? Rhysand is a Welsh name I believe, so Night is supposed to be Wales??? But the Illyrians are also supposedly POC and there's some evidence of Indian influence there too (barf, night is NOT indian at all), so I'm stuck on that one. Dawn is East Asian while Day is...Middle Eastern? Winter maybe Norway or some Scandinavian country? And Summer I'm assuming is supposed to be from some place in Africa, but it's all very vague. Also more points about Velaris: how is their fashion sense so...modern? Since everything is so closed off...shouldn't their fashion be stuck in the 1600s or whenever they closed their borders? Why don't they open their borders to Dawn since they're sooooo close to the Solar courts supposedly??? Has it not occurred to them that Nuan, who made Lucien's metal eye, could also construct new wings for the Illyrian ladies who got theirs cut off? Or do they just not care? They don't but SJM is trying to convince us they do.

Yeah how in the flying fuck is Night surviving on no industry whatsoever? No trade? No agriculture, nada? Because we have no evidence of the Illyrians producing anything either, besides "warriors." My explanation for this is kind of inspired by @kateprincessofbluewhales 's headcanon, but what if the Illyrians are like mercenaries? They're hired to fight for other courts and in exchange they receive all of their necessities and more which the Illyrians then send back home to their wives and children. This still doesn't explain how Velaris operates, but I'm sure Rhysand crutches on the Illyrians' profits to keep shit going and that's part of why they resent him. I'VE BEEN SAYING IT FOR AGES. WINGS ARE SUCH A VULNERABILITY. THEY MAKE YOU SUCH AN EASY TARGET. WHY IS THERE NO WING ARMOR??? THAT WOULD BE SO COOL TOO. BUT NO, WE'RE SUPPOSED TO JUST ACCEPT THERE'S NOTHING COOL ABOUT THE WINGS AT ALL AND MOVE ON.

[ladyofspringcourt]

I have a hard time making peace with the fact that SJM used all known, well-appreciated mythologies of the Ancient World for ACOTAR and still fumbled the ball so bad.

Just think about it: the Autumn and Day Courts are Greek, Summer is Roman, and Dawn is vaguely Etruscan (?). Meanwhile, specifically, Rhysand and Morrigan are roughly Irish, Cassian and Azriel are Albanians too (Illyrians was a real thing), and Tamlin is Scottish (obvi, as ballad of Tamas Lin is a beloved Scottish Lore + don't get me started with how SJM butchered this as well).

What makes the information above so frustrating is...SJM used the names + aesthetic of these cultures but there is no show of how these courts/people are different from each other. The only indication of what makes each court unique are the names of their inhabitants—that's it, unless the narrative demands...I don't know, that SJM needs to use their culture as plot device again?

I mean—now she's got Norse there somewhere because she needed female warriors.

I wonder if she'll touch Indian or Chinese soon, considering that she's being criticized for lack of diversity rep. Lol.

[chicinsilk]

"Ligne Flèche"

Christian Dior Haute Couture Collection Spring/Summer 1956. "Méditerranée" here, the blue linen set by Simonnot Godard. The skirt is attached at the waist, the jacket, short, double-buttoned bib, is gathered at the neckline. Cloche hat in roughly woven blue straw.

Christian Dior Collection Haute Couture Printemps/Été 1956. "Méditerranée" ici, l'ensemble bleu en toile de lin de Simonnot Godard. La jupe est attachée à la taille, la veste, courte, plastron à double boutonnière, est froncée au niveau du tour de cou. Chapeau cloche en paille bleue grossièrement tressée.

Photo Nicole Bukzin

[incomingalbatross]

Below: my attempt at a retelling of Tam Lin, with a little more emphasis on the Baby as a central concern.

---

The first time Janet goes to Carterhaugh, in the early spring, she wears a green cloak on her shoulders and a gold ring on her finger. She's curious, not stupid. She knows the prices Tam Lin is said to demand for trespassing, and she is prepared with every option.

The second time Janet goes, in the later spring, she wears her cloak but does not bother with a ring. She is more confident now, since her first meeting with Tam Lin, and thinks the cloak is a price worth paying to meet the fairy man again.

The third time Janet goes, it is summer. She wears no cloak, and wears no ring; and when she plucks the rose and Tam Lin appears, she sees him notice this even before he meets her eyes.

She smiles at him.

Later, when she wakes in the wood, she wakes alone. She finds her way home by moonlight, and wonders if she will ever go to Carterhaugh again.

There is no future there for her, she knows, no future with Tam Lin but these woodland meetings. He may never even appear to her again, now that she is no maiden... and she may never seek him out again, now that she has proven all the tale.

Time goes by, and Janet puts the memory of those hours in Carterhaugh away. There's much to be done about her father's court—sensible, daylight things, of the mortal world and not the fairy one.

She did not reckon with the fact that those hours might not be done with her...and so even after a week of sickness, when her father said, "I fear you are with child," it was Janet who was most taken by surprise.

That should have been one risk lessened, she had thought, by chancing herself in Carterhaugh and not with one of her father's knights.

Now she was struck with fear; for it had been one thing to take this affair upon herself, but what had she done to this babe inside her? Was it a mortal babe, sired as it had been by a fairy creature, and one she barely knew? Even at the best, what would the babe do in the life she had made for it, growing up fatherless and in dishonor?

Her own father, always kind and mild, did not press her when she said the father would not be found among his court. He frowned mournfully at that, but gave her time, to consider what the child's fate might be.

She was still considering, though, when the oldest, grayest, dourest of her father's men shook his head at her and said, "Ah, and now our lady is with child? It's us knights who'll bear the blame for it, Lady Janet, you will see."

"Hold your tongue!" she snapped back, thoughts broken by her scorn. "As if," she said, "I'd let any child of mine be claimed by you—or any of your company—or ever give any of you reason for such a claim."

Some of those within earshot laughed; but one, a younger knight, shot back, "And what manner of man is it, then, who is so preferred to us, but who has not claimed the child?"

Janet looked at him, and all those around, and thought of Tam Lin. Strange, uncanny Tam Lin, of airy form and shifting mood, remote and strange and dangerous—but Tam Lin, still, whom she had sought out once, and again, and a third time, for more than the mere adventure of it all. Tam Lin as she had come to think of him, fair and brave beneath his strangeness, with a hidden warmth and gravity in him—she thought—that had come out for her, more and more in the short times they had spent together.

Janet could, perhaps, be fairly dense in recognizing uncomfortable truths, but when she did recognize them she faced them squarely and without flinching.

"He is the one who holds my heart," she said to the younger knight, clear for all the world to hear, "as well as the naming of my babe—and if he were a mortal man, and not a fairy strange, he'd be a better knight than you could ever hope to face!"

In the silence, she swept away to her own rooms.

---

Once there, however, she fairly collapses into her seat, picking up her sewing automatically simply to occupy her hands. (It is the finishing work on a mantle, green as leaves and grass; a replacement for the one she left with Tam Lin, some months ago.)

Despite her words down below, she is keenly aware that Tam Lin is not a mortal man. A fairy cannot serve as father to a human child (and again, she thinks with a thrill of unease, is her child going to be human?), and yet Janet knows now that she will not—cannot—consign herself and her child into the keeping of any other man she knows. She will not give her child, or her heart, to any man but the one who has true claim to them...and he is no man at all.

Or...

Well, what is he?

As she sits and finishes her seam, Janet becomes uncomfortably aware of how little she knows of Tam Lin. Perhaps, if he knew, he might be able to propose something she could not—if, that is, he is human enough to care.

"Well," she says aloud, jumping up, letting needle and thimble fall to her feet. "There is only one way to learn.

So she braids up her hair and straightens her skirts and sweeps the new mantle around her: and again, for the fourth time, Janet goes to Carterhaugh, to the well where they met before.

This time, though, she does not pluck one of Tam Lin's roses. She looks around her, thoughtfully, and spies a patch of herbs she knows full well a pregnant woman should not let near her mouth. She bends, and gathers some in her hand...

And is stopped by a small, cold hand upon her wrist, the hand of a fairy knight.

"What are you doing, Janet?" Tam Lin demands, voice urgent, face pale and set. "What are you doing to our child, the child we got between us?"

And that answers half of her questions, right there.

Janet straightens to face him, a rush of warmth chasing out the chill that's been following her. "I would not harm our child," she said, hand resting on her belly, "and truly, Tam Lin, I would carry this child through day and night, summer and winter, for love of it and love of you."

Her face warms, but she sees his eyes soften in surprise, and it is worth it.

"But," she says then, and watches him stiffen in wariness, "but, Tam Lin, I must know whose child I bear."

She stops for a moment, watching him; but he only watches her back, his slim shoulders set back, unearthly face still as the hills. Only his eyes show feeling—a flicker of some intense feeling, far beneath the dark surface, like a caged hawk waiting for a door to open.

"Tam Lin, tell me," Janet says, with a breath taken in silent, desperate prayer. "Did you ever pass through the church-door, or feel the water on your forehead? Were you ever earthly knight, or any kind of man who rode beneath the Cross?"

At her questions, that feeling leaps out of his eyes, and Tam Lin's face comes alive with all the warmth and laughter she has ever seen in it.

"Yes, Janet, yes," he says, and Janet sits down hard on the curb of the well. "I was a man like any other," he continues, taking her hand, "a youth of this country trained for knighthood, until the day I fell from my horse into the Queen of the Fairies' hands."

Her love has a soul, like to her own—and a heart, what's more, for her and the babe. This, Janet thinks, is the most important thing. Everything else, they can manage.

Of course, this is before her love goes on to tell her of the fairies' tithe to Hell.

"Tonight?" she asks incredulously. "You ride to pay the tithe tonight?"

He smiled at her. "If you had decided to see me a little earlier, perhaps..."

"Perhaps if you had told me sooner," she said, "that the Fairy Queen meant your soul to go to Hell, I would have—" But then she stopped herself.

"I did not think," he said gently, "after your last coming, that any reason would arise for you to see me here, let alone to miss me."

And then, from something in his face, and from the sudden memory of his manner at that time, Janet guessed that, then, they had both been using one another. If she had sought adventure and pleasure that came free of the consequences of her father's court, Tam Lin had perhaps been seeking that same pleasure, and a respite, away from the knowledge of his doom. And then they had parted ways, affection mingled with their half-hidden guilt, never to meet again.

But then another life had entered the affair. Another life that neither of them would willingly see harmed, even by their own foolishness.

"You are not the Queen's," she said at last, meeting his eyes fiercely, "and you are not her court's, and you are not going to any devils while I breathe. So how do I take you from them all, Tam Lin?"

He smiled, like a man who had just seen his first sunrise in seven years, and he told her.

---

When Janet met the Fairy Court riding at the crossroads that night, she had no time for fear. She was repeating his instructions in her mind.

"First you'll let the black horse pass, and then you'll let the brown—"

—and then she leapt for the unfamiliar armored figure on the white steed, dragging him down into her arms while all the procession crashed to a halt.

The figure wavered in her arms, and writhed, and became something small and slithering—

"They'll turn me in your arms, to an adder or an asp."

The snaked seemed to rear and then strike, fangs bared, at her body. Janet stiffened, but kept her grasp tight, refusing to recoil.

You, she reminded herself and it, are the father of my child.

And as its head reached her belly the snake's mouth closed, merely tapping her with its snout—"Hold me fast and fear me not," she almost heard—

Before wavering again, and growing, encompassing her in fur and musk and muscle until it seemed as though her arms physically could not wrap around it.

"They'll turn me once again, to a grim and fearsome bear."

Janet set her teeth, and held fast. You are, she thought again, my earthly mate to be.

And its claws and strength were not turned against her; but just as her grasp began to feel more like a hug, the shape wavered again, to something hard and sharp and searing—

"They'll turn me to an iron brand, red-hot as blazing fire."

Janet hugged the iron tight to her breast, through a pain like none she had ever known before, and concentrated all her will on not letting go.

She could not think, but she could remember.

"But hold me fast and fear me not," her true love's voice had said, "and I'll do you no harm..."

And just like that, the pain was gone. The shape in her arms changed, in a way somehow unlike the other changes, into something real and warm and permanent, solid and familiar.

Quick as thinking, Janet swept her mantle over the naked man kneeling against her, covering him in her cloak and arms as he rested his head on her belly.

Above them both, atop a tall mount, the most beautiful woman Janet had ever seen glared down at them.

Janet stared back, triumphant and unafraid.

"So you are stolen, Tam Lin," the Queen of the Fairies said, her voice frozen with rage.

"Not stolen," Janet said at once. "If I had stolen him tonight, I know I could not have kept him. He already belonged to us."

Her love straightened to lift his head beside her, face clear in the moonlight—like and yet not like his fairy face, she thought, but not unlike in ways that she would miss. His breath was warm on her cheek, as he turned to face the Queen.

Whatever the Queen saw there, she hissed at, a long indrawn breath.

"If I had known," she said, "Tam Lin, what drew your eyes from me, I'd have taken them from your skull this night and changed them for eyes of wood.

"If I had known," she said again (with a poisonous look to Janet), "what pulled your heart from me, I'd have taken it from your chest this night and changed it for one of stone."

But with that, she cracked her reins, and—the court sweeping in disarray behind her—rode off and vanished into the morning mist.

Tam Lin turned his eyes to Janet, smiling wide and joyful.

"And I am father to your babe," he said, taking her hand, "and I will be your mate in life, and I will be your true love, Janet, as long as you will be my wife."

"As my love I claimed you," she said, smiling too, "and as my husband-bound-to-be, and as the father of my child: so, Tam Lin, these things are yours for good, and so too I will be."

Home then they went, and the banns were read, and in due course came the marriage and the child. And the story was often told by their hearth, as that child grew older, of the role it had first played in bringing its parents through peril.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🦇 We shouldn't wait until May every year to delve into the beauty of Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) voices. In May, I shared a list of the NEWEST AAPI books out this year. To keep promoting AAPI authors, characters, and stories, here are a few Young Adult AAPI books you can add to your TBR for the remainder of the year!

🏮 The Summer I Turned Pretty by Jenny Han 🏮 My Summer of Love and Misfortune by Lindsay Wong 🏮 Permanent Record by Mary H.K. Choi 🏮 When We Were Infinite by Kelly Loy Gilbert 🏮 To All the Boys I've Loved Before by Jenny Han 🏮 I Will Find You Again by Sarah Lyu 🏮 Emergency Contact by Mary H.K. Choi 🏮 American Panda by Gloria Chao 🏮 When Dimple Met Rishi by Sandhya Menon 🏮 Starfish by Akemi Dawn Bowman 🏮 Our Wayward Fate by Gloria Chao 🏮 Rent a Boyfriend by Gloria Chao 🏮 Want by Cindy Pon 🏮 The Weight of Our Sky by Hanna Alkaf 🏮 A Place to Belong by Cynthia Kadohata 🏮 Of Curses and Kisses by Sandhya Menon 🏮 Everyone Wants to Know by Kelly Loy Gilbert 🏮 A Pho Love Story by Loan Le 🏮 The Wild Ones by Nafiza Azad 🏮 Prepped by Bethany Mangle 🏮 The Infinity Courts by Akemi Dawn 🏮 Yolk by Mary H.K. Choi 🏮 Imposter Syndrome and Other Confessions of Alejandra Kim by Patricia Park 🏮 This is Not a Personal Statement by Tracy Badua 🏮 The Cartographers by Amy Zhang 🏮 The Love Match by Priyanka Taslim 🏮 This Place is Still Beautiful by Xixi Tian 🏮 Chasing Pacquiao by Rod Pulido 🏮 I'm Not Here to Make Friends by Andrew Yang 🏮 The Queens of New York by E. L. Shen 🏮 Hungry Ghost by Victoria Ying 🏮 These Infinite Threads by Tahereh Mafi 🏮 Six Crimson Cranes by Elizabeth Lim 🏮 The Marvelous Mirza Girls by Sheba Karim 🏮 A Magic Steeped in Poison by Judy I. Lin

[queenlua]

“Gotta love the fauxgressive environmentalist virtue-signaling here when you didn’t even ask if I’d already signed up my eaglets for pickleball camp there this summer. Our blue heron neighbors had signed up their chicks too,” said bald eagle Ben Picklin, paddles in talon. “I just wish all these heroes actually asked the birds they’re supposedly saving what we thought first before acting like our lord and savior here. We’re no chicken wings — I’m a banger myself with a pretty mean body shot and Nasty Nelson. Pfft, ‘America’s a democracy’—my feathery ass it is!”

[laiqualaurelote]

#10 or #29, for a Miss Fisher fic

I've answered 10 here!

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

I actually haven't got a lot of spare stuff for MFMM because I wound up using nearly everything I wrote for it (also I tried to have a poke around in my drafts but I could not find the Gdoc for World Enough And Time? this is...alarming. I'd say I dreamt I wrote it but it's right there on AO3). So: random fic idea.

Had I had world enough and time I would have expanded there's something wild about you, child, reinterpreting the entire series as a fae AU. Some highlights:

we would get more backstory on how Aunt Prudence raised changeling!Phryne, deliberately training her to handle iron (this is why she can use a gun if the handle is clad in oak, or take trains)

at some point Dot would have acquired a unicorn. She would have called him, IDK, Stuart

Jane is half-fae. Her mother disappeared because she followed her lover through the veil. She returns after what she thinks was half a day but was in fact ten years

there would still be a Gilbert & Sullivan opera but it would be Iolanthe, not Ruddigore

Camilla would be a hugupo (tiger spirit)

Away With The Fairies would involve literal fairies, probably

the S1 arc: Murdoch Foyle, the original King of the Winter Court, seeks to regain his power by sacrificing four changelings, Phryne being the last

the S2 arc: Sidney Fletcher, stealer of children, is the Erlking

the S3 arc: the final antagonist would be the Gentleman with the Plucked Eyes, who is the King of the Summer Court and Phryne's real father. Following the Tam Lin myth, Jack would get stolen and Phryne would have to save him from the Wild Hunt by holding him fast and fearing him not

the fic would end with Jack introducing Phryne to his grandmother, and Phryne telling him her real name

(from this fic ask game, thank you for asking!)

[fandomside]

Nirvana in Fire Rewatch Episode Fourteen

Events:

MCS and Yan Que finish their talk.

Banruo's suggestion to swap out the prisoners to free Minister He's son is put into action. It's carried out by the Minster of Justice Qi Min. Once Minister He is back at work, MCS figures out what's happened and leaks it to Xie Yu. Minister He, Minister Qi MIn and He Wenxin are all arrested.

Yujin works out MCS isn't really working for Prince Yu.

New Years banquets, children bowing to parents. Jingyan gets an extra gift and Mu Qing gets an extra dish from the palace.

The Zhuo murder the guards and eunuch carrying one of the gifted dishes from the palace. Meng Zhi is flogged 20 times and given 30 days to find out who did it.

Yujin visits MCS to thank him for talking his father out of regicide, and they have a lovely moment together.

MCS and Fei Liu visit Mu Manor. MCS and NIhuang, and Xie Yu and Zhuo, discuss what happens next re Meng Zhi losing imperial favor.

Names and titles

Nihuang is calling MCS xiongzhang now.

Jingrui's parents are 'fuqin, muqin, die, niang', with his noble parents getting the formal titles and his jianghu parents getting the familiar.

Jingrui calls his jianghu brother 'Qingyao-xiongzhang'

Xie Bi calls the Zhuos 'Zhuo-bobo, Zhuo-bomu'.

Characters:

Prince Yu is very much like his father as a young man. This explains why Xiao Xuan was seen as a good choice for Emperor, and why Yan Que and Lin Xie liked him. Prince Yu is likeable. He's also petulant, easily manipulated, faithless and unprincipled, just like his father.

Yan Que has been following events at court closely despite not involving himself.

Kudos to Yan Que for telling Yujin everything. This means Yujin now has an adult understanding of the Chiyan case.

Minister He is overjoyed to learn an innocent man will be executed in his son's place.

7 princes: three we know, Prince Ning is disabled, one 'has no ambition', one is 'too young'. That leaves one unknown. We can see at New Year that one's a child - if he's the 'too young' there's still one unknown.

Yan-daifu is living in MCS's household, not just visiting.

Time

Half a year ago, Xie Yu told Tianquan to recruit more martial artists from the jianghu. That would be back in summer, before the first episode.

[fountainpenguin]

"There's really just one thing that we have in common; neither of us will be missed..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today!

Chapter 2 - “Embers (Impulse)”

Read on AO3

Start from Chapter 1

---

Impulse is allowed to be POV character for both the pre-game and the rules chapters, not because I split the opening in several pieces but because he specifically can do whatever he wants <3

Dog's Life doesn't have a boogeyman, but it sure has hunting hounds! Grian's got rules to explain, everybody scrambles, folks start taking on mob traits, and Impulse gets his quarry roll. Check it out!

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

[ImpulseSV - Player]

Quarry: TBA

Hunter: Unknown

💚  💛  ❤️

Seed 125. It's such an innocuous number, that. Just a sliver of a thing. You could almost personify it like a little fairy. What's that TV show where the letters of the alphabet form words and come alive? If there's a spin-off for numbers, this is exactly that. The number 125 is too ridiculously quaint and pretty to be "randomly selected," which makes it feel ethereal and fey. Does that make sense?

Listen to me. I really do sound like a guy whose friend group has been mostly other parents for the last dozen years.

Smajor gets it, though. Er… Scott. He's all-in on the freckly, pointy eared woodland fey aesthetic this time around- glittery and mystical with iridescent white fairy wings printed down the back of his bright green jacket. Someone call the Summer Court, because Tam Lin's in big trouble. That's him.

You know, just the name alone is hilarious. "Seed 125" sounds like a tourist trap or government lab, like Area 51 or something (at least in all the memes). The air here is warm and smells of salt and mucky sand. It's night, but no one's shivering… even those among the crowd of 17 (like Impulse) whose base code currently depicts them in shorts and a T-shirt. Skizz's suit vest doesn't even have sleeves. Cleo has her arms crossed, hands running up and down her skin, but she sort of always does that. You know: stands off to one side, watchful and aloof. Then she settles with a fwump on the edge of Ren's melon.

(Funny story about the staring. 16 of the 17 players gathered around the melon circle are tailed by "ghosts." They're not normally spoken of- invisible to each other's camera eyes, here only if you squint. HumanCleo betrays all the emotions of life and fear that ZombieCleo does not. The ghostly figure shivers, shifting from foot to foot. She presses her palms to her face. She's transparent, so it does very little to hide her. Impulse can see her beady camera eye staring blearily at the bedrock ground.)

Tango's red-blond hair flickers in the dark. His flames burn low. Since their center torch is pretty pathetic, he alone is lighting up the darkness of their inner circle. Well… Skizz has his halo and Scar decorated his cane with a glowing red orb, which rests in his lap, but there's no telling what that's about. Impulse squints.

Is Scar made of wood?

That'll be interesting. Scar always goes overboard with his skin swaps and roleplay in the death games, and clearly he's already built the bare bones of a plan. Doesn't wood rot near the seaside? This is the seaside, right? Slight waves slap against the shore down the hill from where they sit. Stalks of bamboo leer over them like skyscrapers and the bedrock Grian admin'd in around spawn is freckled with roaming pigs.

Seed 125 is too pretty of a place to be brutally murdered in a death loop. And this time, the realization of that cuts Impulse to the core. He jolts upright, gripping the edges of his melon chair.

Why are we doing all this? For the 'entertainment' of those whose faces we never see? Can't we just have a beach episode and enjoy building together in a tropical survival paradise?

Would that be good content? Maybe not, but it'd be a well-deserved vacation. Impulse rubs behind his neck, tracing out the ghosts of old scars and the ache of this morning's Skyblock stream with Skizz. Ooh. Is he really up for this?

I really shouldn't have spent an hour skimming through the void.

His cam twin moves instinctively to rub his shoulders. His misty hands pass straight through.

"So Grian," Scar calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Explain to us in your soothing British accent what the rules of this Life game are."

"Welcome to Dog's Life," Grian recites, spinning around like a king. He wobbles his arms, leaning his weight on just one leg. Gets his balance back. Exhales. They're all standing on random melons gathered around the bedrock spawn point, although there weren't enough for everyone, so some are on the ground. Actually, Smajor (Scott) and BigB have their arms wrapped around each other, tongues poking out uncertainly as they fight gravity and each other to keep themselves upright. Scott, a little squashed and frumpy, looks like he might step down in a second or two. While their melon is square, it's a little lumpy on one side. BigB grips Scott like a life preserver as though the grass is lava.

Beside them is Mumbo, fiddling with his tie. He stares at his shoes, but lifts his gaze as Impulse's eyes bear into him. This is only Mumbo's second round in the death game, so it's no wonder he's nervous. He looks out of his element - like a dolphin in Arizona - like he's debating if he ought to surrender his own melon to one of the senior players. Impulse tries to smile, but it comes out like a grimace. Mumbo fidgets with the hems of his coat. The skeletons on the fringes of their circle are noisy, bones clicking. Pigs snort. The zombies are the loudest of all… enough to make Impulse wonder whether they're standing just above a cave. How grateful he is for the bedrock that prevents death loops from trapping spawn.

One skeleton twists around, making Mumbo jump. But Ren shoots him a reassuring look, waving a dismissive hand. He's sitting on his melon, one leg crossed over the other. He looks relaxed. Cleo's doing the exact same thing, having apparently decided - quite stubbornly - that they won't stray far from spawn while the stars are out. They're in no rush to get moving.

Can't blame her, Impulse thinks, watching the skeleton keep its distance. He taps his fingers against the melon's side, starting up a beat (Skizz instinctively picks it up, drumming too). There's almost no point in foraging at night during Hardcore.

[Cnt'd on AO3 - Link at top]

[margridarnauds]

choose violence, your choice in fandom: 18, 19, 20, 23, and 25

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

Raphael's files for Act 3 in the datamines being "Raphael_Tango" haunts me day and night. It's the reason why I have the idiots dance a tango before corrupting their relationship. I have to live with this knowledge, day and night. Also the fucking. Dialogue for the epilogue that was cut. WHY? WHY DO THE GODS TAUNT US?

Also, the Bluebeard parallels drive me up a wall. I WANT my Perrault/ Bartok/Crimson Peak parallel/AU and regrettably I'm one of the only people who is the proper degree of unhinged to write it.

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

...I regret to tell you that playing Super Mario World, Super Mario Bros. 3, and Super Mario Wonder in short succession has unlocked a part of my brain that I thought I'd killed off or...at least....knocked unconscious with a large bat.

...I regret to tell you it's awake and I'm back to shipping Princess Peach/Bowser. ...I also have 0 thoughts on Ascended Astarion besides "no, that isn't the authorial intent and people really don't need to defend it or pretend like he isn't intended to be abusive, but also, people escalate the debate and add a nasty undercurrent of misogyny, so you know what? You have fun with your toxic vampire BF" but Evil!Shadowheart corrupting Selunite!Tav? ...yeah. Yeah.

20. part of canon you found tedious or boring

BG3, it isn't news that Act 3 lags and there are some sidequests I refuse to do a second time because I did my time and we're not doing it again. I really hate a lot of the combat, even if I'm no longer awful at it. Like, sure, I can fight Raphael, I've fought every major boss in the game at this point at Tactician level, but also, consider: I don't *like* it.

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, I've been watching it for YEARS but I NEVER understood the appeal of Jack/Phryne. I thought it would be her essentially giving up her independence for a man and that they might have a short-lived fling, but it would never go anywhere. I dragged my heels, I bitched, I moaned, I said I would never like it, that it was a mistake to not just adapt the books and make Jack happily married and Phryne in a steady but open relationship with Lin Chung.

...I finally came around to it this watch through.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

*Ronan Mazurier can't be older than 22 years old and he just watched his father be killed in front of him after he TRIED to help him, by an officer of the king, a nobleman who has extreme power over him so Ronan can never really give as good as he gets. He's frustrated, he's angry, he's hotheaded, he makes decisions that screw himself over, he makes decisions that screw other people over, he thinks with his heart and not his head, but he's also a KID, be nicer to him*

Like, it's 2024 and I'm here to fight for my boy.

In general, part of why I stopped doing public streams, besides my schedule no longer accommodating it, was that I really, really got tired of people watching musicals that were obviously near and dear to my heart, that I'd often spent upwards of a hundred dollars on and just....relentlessly shitting on them, especially over relatively minor things like historical inaccurate costumes. Like, excellent, Takarazuka productions don't often have 100% historical accurate costumes, now can we actually pay attention to the MUSICAL? What do you think about the MUSICAL? What do you think of this attempt by a Japanese theatrical revue to adapt 18th century French court clothing? What is this saying about the directorial intent? "I don't like--" I don't like your face, and yet here we are. "I don't like that 1789 pays too much attention to the OCs and not to the historical figures" -- It's called. 1789 -- Les Amants de la Bastille. Not 1789: Robespierre and the Gang's REALLY wacky summer. Admit the musical isn't your thing, enjoy the bops, sit the fuck down, and shut up.

[pagebypagereviews]

Lisa Scottoline Bio Lisa Scottoline is a bestselling American author of legal thrillers and mystery novels. Known for her gripping storytelling, she has penned over 30 novels, captivating millions of readers worldwide. Biography Attribute Details Name Lisa Scottoline Date of Birth July 1, 1955 Nationality American Profession Author Genre Legal Thrillers Early Life Lisa Scottoline - Early Life Lisa Scottoline was born in the Lower Moyamensing neighborhood of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, into a small Italian family. She was raised in nearby Norwood, PA, alongside her only sibling, a brother. Scottoline attended Lower Merion High School and later pursued higher education at the University of Pennsylvania, where she earned a B.A. in English magna cum laude in just three years. She continued her academic journey at the University of Pennsylvania Law School, graduating cum laude. Throughout her early life, Scottoline's Philadelphia roots and academic achievements laid a solid foundation for her future success as a renowned author. Family Lisa Scottoline's Family Information table width: 100%; border-collapse: collapse; th, td border: 1px solid black; padding: 8px; text-align: left; th background-color: #f2f2f2; Relation Name Information Father Frank Scottoline Frank Scottoline is Lisa Scottoline's father. His parents, Mary and Antonio Scottoline, emigrated from Ascoli Piceno, Italy to America. Mother Mary Scottoline Mary Scottoline is Lisa Scottoline's mother. She supported Lisa through her education and career. Sister Unknown Lisa Scottoline has a half-sister, but her name and additional details are not widely available. Daughter Francesca Serritella Francesca Serritella is Lisa Scottoline's daughter. She is also a writer and has co-authored several books with Lisa. Height, Weight, And Other Body Measurements Lisa Scottoline Body Measurements table width: 100%; border-collapse: collapse; th, td padding: 8px 12px; border: 1px solid #ddd; text-align: left; th background-color: #f2f2f2; Attribute Measurement Height Information not available Weight Information not available Waist Size Information not available Age 69 Wife/husband / Girlfriend/boyfriend Lisa Scottoline's Relationships Lisa Scottoline, a bestselling author from Philadelphia, has had an interesting personal life along with her successful writing career. Here is a detailed account of her relationships over the years. As of the latest information, Lisa Scottoline is not currently married. She has humorously referred to her past marriages in her book titled "Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog. Lisa Scottoline has been married twice before. She humorously refers to her ex-husbands as "Thing One" and "Thing Two". Here are the details: Ex-Husband Details Thing One Details about her first husband are not widely publicized. Thing Two Details about her second husband are also not widely publicized. Lisa Scottoline has a daughter, Francesca Serritella, who is also a writer. Francesca's father is believed to be Lisa's first husband, but specific details about him remain private. Lisa Scottoline is a prolific writer with numerous bestsellers to her name. Some of her notable works include: Eternal - A story of first love set against the backdrop of WWII in Rome. Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog - A collection of humorous essays from her real life. Courting Trouble - An instant New York Times bestseller dubbed a "Sexy Summer Read" by Cosmopolitan Magazine. For more information, you can visit her official website: Lisa Scottoline's Official Website Career, Achievements And Controversies Lisa Scottoline: Career, Achievements, and Controversies body font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.6; h1, h2, h3 color: #2c3e50; .container max-width: 800px;

margin: 0 auto; padding: 20px; .section margin-bottom: 20px; Lisa Scottoline became famous through her work as a bestselling author. She gained widespread recognition and acclaim for her legal thrillers and suspense novels, which have captivated readers around the globe. Her engaging storytelling and relatable characters have established her as a prominent figure in the literary world. Lisa Scottoline began her career as a writer after working as an attorney. Her first novel, Everywhere That Mary Went, was published in 1993 and introduced readers to the legal thriller genre. She continued to build her career with subsequent novels, including Final Appeal, which won the Edgar Award for Excellence in Mystery Writing. Some of her popular works include: Final Appeal Mistaken Identity Moment of Truth Damaged Lisa Scottoline's contributions through her writing have been recognized by various organizations. Some of her notable awards include: Edgar Award for Excellence in Mystery Writing for Final Appeal Various nominations and accolades for her bestselling novels Despite her literary success, Lisa considers her greatest achievement to be raising her daughter as a single mom. While Lisa Scottoline has enjoyed a successful career, there are no major controversies associated with her. She has maintained a positive reputation in the literary community and continues to engage with her readers through virtual discussions and other events. Faq FAQs about Lisa Scottoline body font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.6; .faq-container max-width: 800px; margin: 0 auto; padding: 20px; .faq margin-bottom: 20px; .question font-weight: bold; color: #2c3e50; .answer margin-top: 5px; Who is Lisa Scottoline? Lisa Scottoline is an American author known for her legal thrillers. She has written numerous bestsellers and has received several awards for her work. Besides being a successful novelist, she is also a former lawyer and a columnist. What are some of Lisa Scottoline's most popular books? Some of Lisa Scottoline's most popular books include "Every Fifteen Minutes," "Someone Knows," "Eternal," and the Rosato & DiNunzio series. Her books often feature strong female protagonists and are set against the backdrop of the legal world. Has Lisa Scottoline won any awards for her writing? Yes, Lisa Scottoline has won several awards for her writing, including the Edgar Award for Best Paperback Original for her novel "Final Appeal." She has also received various accolades from both critics and readers for her contributions to the thriller genre. What is the Rosato & DiNunzio series? The Rosato & DiNunzio series is a collection of legal thriller novels written by Lisa Scottoline. The series revolves around an all-female law firm based in Philadelphia and features characters like Bennie Rosato, Mary DiNunzio, and Judy Carrier. The books blend legal drama with personal stories, offering readers a mix of suspense and emotional depth. Does Lisa Scottoline write in any other genres? While Lisa Scottoline is best known for her legal thrillers, she has also written historical fiction, such as her novel "Eternal," which is set during World War II. Additionally, she co-authors humorous nonfiction books with her daughter, Francesca Serritella, which are based on their weekly Philadelphia Inquirer column, "Chick Wit.

[swynlake-rp]

GO FOR THE GOLD!!! #TEAMSWYNLAKE!

OTMS

MUN: L Milo broke his curse, the Phillies are #1 in the league, and Lauren is killing it! We’ve loved to see all the big moves L is making lately! CHARACTER: EILONWY! We would just like to point out that this is the second year in a row Eilonwy received MULTIPLE nominations for June Character OTM! Yes, that’s right, the Summer Solstice arc is always that good. We’re so happy we get another year with the sunshine queen! THREAD: MY HEART IS A HAUNTED HOUSE THREADS! Members are riveted by this complex plot and all the moving pieces. Hauntings! Heartbreak! Sentient houses! This plot really has it all. Special shoutout to the Hauntley break-in thread where Gem fights the house— epic stuff! TASK: GEM’S QUEER AWAKENING! Props to C for creating an in-universe book! This was so creative and we love when people build out the world of SwynRP like this!

BOARD UPDATES 

None!

TASKS

POSTCARDS FROM YOU!: Make (or find) a graphic that represents a postcard your character has sent! Write the letter that they’re sending. This is totally open to turn into a multimedia thread, or a self-para moment. Like we always say, the rules are but guidelines! The minimum you need is a postcard and the words your character writes <3  GO FOR THE GOLD!: The Olympics kicks off this month! Write a self-para of your character doing a sport. Check out the list of Olympic sports for inspo! (600 words)

EVENTS

JULY 3 - 10: FAIRY FLOTILLA! Ahem! After a few hiccups… the Flotilla is here to usher in midsummer! Watch the talented fairies lead performances out on the lake! Canonically on July 6. 

JULY 10-17: SHANG’S HOUSEWARMING PARTY - Shang is celebrating his new home ownership by hosting a party! Everyone over 18 is welcome! Come on over and eat, drink, swim or dance the night away.

JULY 17 - 24: LANTERN FESTIVAL! A Swynlake tradition! Gather around the lake to send lanterns off into the evening sky with wishes written inside. Canonically on July 20. 

JULY 24 - JULY 31: CASINO NIGHT AT THE COURT OF MIRACLES! Come out to the Court of Miracles for a themed casino night! Want to get involved? Reach out to Jasper (Gigi) or Jessica (Lins) if your character wants to perform or be a dealer! Canonically on July 28. 

JULY 24 - 31: BOARD MEETING! A lot has happened this past month! Come out to Town Hall and talk to the Board! Canonically on July 25. 

BIRTHDAYS

Characters:

Fawn Tumbleclaw – July 5

Luisa Madrigal – July 6

Amity Blight – July 7

Angelo "Ronno" Spiridakos – July 12

Raksha Bhediya – July 13

Isaac Morey – July 21

Julieta Madrigal – July 23

Pepa Madrigal – July 23

Bruno Madrigal – July 23

Errol Woolf – July 25

Hercules Kouros – July 26

Benjamin Drakken – July 27

Luz Noceda – July 28

William "Bullseye" Stoddard – July 29

Tinker Bell – July 30

Al McWiggin – July 31

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue December 1956 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Short cape, with collar, lapels on the "sleeves", it has the manner of a jacket to put a dress in its place in most holiday or summer situations. Here, the suit is in pale gold Irish linen, the dress blousing above a twisted grosgrain belt. Linen wrap turban, all by Dior-New York. Dior pink-pink lipstick "&" David Webb jewels.

The car: an Oldsmobile Super 88 Holiday Coupe.

Cape courte, à col, revers sur les "manches", elle a la manière d'une veste de mettre une robe à sa place dans la plupart des situations de villégiature ou d'été. Ici, le costume est en lin irlandais or pâle, la robe blousante au-dessus d'une ceinture en gros-grain torsadé. Turban enroulé en lin, l'ensemble par Dior-New York. Rouge à lèvres rose-rose Dior "&" bijoux David Webb.

La voiture: une Oldsmobile Super 88 Holiday Coupé.

Model/Modèle Patsy Pulitzer Photo Clifford Coffin vogue archive