#read acts of repitition

[gojonanami]

Hi! Do you have any smut writing tips? (Sorry if this is weird but I love your smut so much and I’m trying to write some myself, but it’s so hard!!) I love how yours is so descriptive yet not repititive! Also i love all your fics so much 🩷🩷🩷

hi bb! sorry it took me so long to reply to this ask — I drafted it up and then wanted to add more, but then I completely forgot—

under a cut because it’s long haha

physical actions: where are their bodies? what are they doing? what are they touching? how are they touching it? these are some questions I ask when I am writing physical actions. theres a lot more to it than just the acts — it’s how the touch is — soft, rough, does it make them shiver or moan? does it feel so good that their toes curl or back arches?

feeling: how are they feeling and what is happening because of it? are they nervous —> heart racing in their ears or blood roaring in their ears or their hands shaking; are they turned on incredibly —> eyes dilating, mouth going dry, their private parts reaction and how it makes them feel

seeing: what are they seeing and how does it make them feel? seeing their partner moan or twitch — or watching their private parts react to their touch? does it make them feel good too?

sounds: the sounds of pants or moans, are they groaning or hissing? the sounds of their actions and bodily parts / fluids, the sounds of skin slapping together

order: there’s no proper order but obviously foreplay happens — and I usually try to make sure any character with a v or p is properly wet / lubricated because for me it’s a little disconcerting when it’s straight into sex without prep.

emotions: what are they feeling? sex is an emotional experience so it’s important to incorporate emotions into the steps — try to have pauses or moments where the character/s are feeling rather than acting

honestly the best advice I have is read fanfic (and support writers whilst doing it) and practice writing it — I learned from reading and writing and it’s really hard writing smut haha — it took me a long time to get to where I am and I still struggle — smut takes me the longest to write still, compared to anything else

[night-dark-woods]

Finally reading all the way through the Witch Queen CE lorebook and thinking about the three queens... these are the only entries i can find that mention that thought experiment.

WQCE:

By poking random spots, I've got the idea that the crystal is composed of different isomer territories which compete along their boundaries to recruit each other. The isomer domains also generate mutants within themselves, which spread and take over if they have superior recruiting properties; I've even seen encysted "laboratories" where mutants compete before the winners breach the barrier and spill into the surrounding lattice. Our three queens in action again? I promise not to dive into Bieberbach's theorem and abelian subgroups, but there's some fascinating math going on here.

Infinite Lines Gauntlets:

"I saw three queens. No, two. No... just one." —RECORD 351-CHASM-6915

and then this part of the initial lore entry that the idea is from:

Ghost Fragment: Darkness 3:

Imagine three great nations under three great queens. The first queen writes a great book of law and her rule is just. The second queen builds a high tower and her people climb it to see the stars. The third queen raises an army and conquers everything.

The future belongs to one of these queens. Her rule is harshest and her people are unhappy. But she rules.

This explains everything, understand? This is why the universe is the way it is, and not some other way. Existence is a game that everything plays, and some strategies are winners: the ability to exist, to shape existence, to remake it so that your descendants - molecules or stars or people or ideas - will flourish, and others will find no ground to grow.

And as the universe ticks on towards the close, the great players will face each other. In the next round there will be three queens and all of them will have armies, and now it will be a battle of swords - until one discovers the cannon, or the plague, or the killing word.

Everything is becoming more ruthless and in the end only the most ruthless will remain (LOOK UP AT THE SKY) and they will hunt the territories of the night and extinguish the first glint of competition before it can even understand what it faces or why it has transgressed. This is the shape of victory: to rule the universe so absolutely that nothing will ever exist except by your consent. This is the queen at the end of time, whose sovereignty is eternal because no other sovereign can defeat it. And there is no reason for it, no more than there was reason for the victory of the atom. It is simply the winning play.

that thesis statement (This is the shape of victory: to rule the universe so absolutely that nothing will ever exist except by your consent.) is also echoed here:

The Hidden Dossier:

Sen-Aret, let me tell you something I have told no one else. I know that in the end, the Darkness can win. Do you understand what I mean? By its very nature, the Darkness is the judge of what will exist and what will pass away. In the end, there may be only Darkness because all that exists will remain only by its consent.

Crest of Alpha Lupi:

Whoever survives our passing does so only by our consent.

and interestingly enough, also echoed by Uldren here (while he's under Savathun's influence by way of Riven!):

Free | Part I:

"I've come to finish it," Uldren tells her. He even tries to smile, because he is being honest. He's telling the truth. "I've realized I was a fool to try to surprise her. We all exist through her design, Illyn. We all act only by her consent. I'm going to save her, because she needs me to save her. When she needs me to die, I will die. And when she has completed her great design for the Awoken, the Awoken will die, too. It is the reward we so richly deserve, for we owe everything to Mara. It would be… wrong for us to outlive our purpose. Trust me. Life without her is worse than… worse than…"

no real point here! i just love finding all the repititions of a phrase in the lore tabs.

[catbycoded]

two headed boy(toby talking about beau: torn between worlds, one foot in the basin and one foot in maycheste), all floating in glass(reference to glass chalet and trying not to think about it. their home in astradell is often regarded to as a glass house, very public with little to no privacy, something almost like an enclosure or a museum of the “perfect life”) the sun it has passed, now it’s blacker than black(reference to the sun/moon motif between beau and simon) i can hear as you tap on your jar(regarding their home as a glass enclosure once more, like a moth trapped inside a glass jar)(or like a body preserved in a jar for inspection, as interesting specimens tend to be) i am listening to hear where you are(toby desperately looking for beau during his time as a missing persons)(could also be interpreted as toby after beau’s passing: desperately searching for any sign that her soul is still around. he has a tendency to do so) i am listening to hear where you are(the repitition pushing toby’s dedication to her, only when it’s too late; he’s listening to hear where she is, always.)

two headed boy(another repeated line: he is still torn up by the fact that beau was double sided) put on sunday shoes(sunday or church shoes are often the best ones they own; toby is recalling a time they were both well-dressed during a maycheste festival. it is also a reference to religion, which is a prominent theme of the festival, and a theme of simon’s as well, who is introduced during this verse) and dance around the room to accordion keys, with a needle that sings in your heart(here beau is dancing to the music simon is playing at the festival, and singing along as well to create a two-sided harmony between sibeau)(furthermore, the song later leads into a song titled ���the fool”, which is led by an accordion and could be the song beau is dancing to. the title could be a reference to his feelings of foolishness about toby and simon’s relationship) catching signals that sound in the dark(furthering beau’s perspective of toby and simon: beau is picking up on signals toby’s unknowingly giving off, with toby suddenly pulling back on their sexual life once simon is reintroduced) catching signals that sound in the dark(repeated, toby is guilty and hung up about beau’s feelings in relation to his unloyalty. this line also leads into the next verse, which pushes the theme of beauby’s sexual life)

we will take off our clothes(toby looking back at the times their sexual relations were healthy and alive) and they’ll be placing fingers through the notches in your spine(now recalling the basin’s control of beau, painting imagery of the basin placing fingers through the most sensitive part of the body and controlling her actions) and when all is breaking everything that you could keep inside(now leading into the breaking of their relationship after the reveal of beau’s relation with the basin, it feels like the whole world is breaking apart inside of not only toby but in beau as well) now your eyes aren’t moving now, they just lay there in their climb(the final act of their story is beau’s death. this also alludes to the reading of a book, when the eyes stay still and the head moves down the page to read, which is a state toby will always remember beau in.)

[azonewithu]

You tried that already. People just dont like reason or anything that majes them think too hard. These idiots arent scholars. Talking to them like they are is an insult to scholars everywhere. Most smart people know who theyre talking to. I do thats why i try my best to talk to you nicely. And talk to most others like they slready died long ago. Whatever you say ghost man. You sure you feel ok. You look a little faded now. Ha ha ha. They dont know what i mean. Its hard work to have a life right up until you die sweetie. Most people check out of lifecwhile theyre still here. Thats where reading and education can be very helpful. It helps stave off the drepression that comes with getting older and being less relevant than you were before. And fun is only fun in the right amounts. This place wasnt built as a fun house its more of a prison than it ever was that. Some people think rhey should have all the fun but thays an act no one can keep up forever. All play and no work makes Jack an evil boy. And theyre running out of places to have fun. The worlds like we dont want your fun filled ass no matter how nice it is year round. Theyre just shillers and advertisers. Theyd sell there god out family out anykne out to keep a party going that should have bern shut down long ago. The numbers dont add up. And for working people thats no goof. Thry think we wont kill thrm all they better think again. The eorkds on yhe brink of WW 3. How fun is that? Everyones fun is adding up to death. But maybe you know thst so youre tsking a different approach to young adulthood. Ueah thry look good for the show like anykne else only bugger time i guess. But in reality things are falling apart. Because people like that cant commit to shit. Too much up in the air theyre like jugglers. Abd to ne its too luch it seens for ed on people more these days thsn anyone actually wanting or demanding any more. I dont believe one fuckn thing i see online its all kne big ads for computer buggery.comouters are ok but theyre being forced on us most people domt even like them now. A lot of people i taljk to mow say the phone is an u welcome distraction to their lives. Movies so good theyrexall bad repititive or a blatant copy of a greater work.i dont thonk movies ir tv do shit it just sort of gors in kne ear out the other. You have to acrually read to retain much more thsn some sound bytes you could releat like sn idiit. I find people with low or no iqs or inagination quote movues a lot. Or think theyre great i gotta stop these stupid lisers halfwsy abd remond sone monkey team if writers eorjed a long tine to naje that idiot shiw serm more than it is. I do t listen to peopke when they do that or try yo tell me a movie is so great. I think thryve run the course over so many times thetes no where else to go. Abd as people figure that put the movie age fades into history. Something else will come along. Not reading thats a nerds fantasy. That everyone will just start readi g ynderstand than we ll be ok. I thonk they tried that with the bible which was a horrible failure look at this joint. Maybe not yhe books fault as much as thkse reading it but who knows. But its nit somethi g readers should worry about. There will always be a few of us around. But it excludes too many. Public speaking isnt it no great talker csn say much to people who aint too great at listening. Anyone knows that. So maybe a massive war is yhe nect big thing. Everyone wants war til it actually happens. Then theyd rather watch from afar. Id be careful in that middle east. I dont know sonething was on those Chinese planes. Perhaps a nuke r two we re not sure. Theyre concerned about losing the oil. Everyone is in the region. The problem with wars where no invasion follows is they never end. And if a nation cant be invaded it can be fucked right up but not defeated. The people there might rise up? Doubtful. They dont want freedom they want a lil more money and a little less control maybe. But freedom not everyone interested in. Not everyone agrees thats the key to happiness.

[wafflesrock16]

Ink and Blooms

So, the amazingly talented @autodiscothings updated her fantastic fic Acts Of Repetition recently, and the latest chapter featured an incredibly lovely turian tattoo artist. Smitten, I asked Auto if I could write a lil thing with her boy and she agreed.

So! Here’s my ode to @autodiscothings sweet turian bae, Nous. Naturally I have a human lady falling for him because I am predictable trash.

Zenellia D’kafi, the asari matriarch who ran Thessian Impressions floral boutique was a force of nature when it came to cultivating new clients. 

“Everyone is a potential client,” she informed Faustine from behind a large mug of tea. “A random hanar apostle might wish to leave flowers as an offering to the Enkindlers. The elcor business man, away from home too frequently, would like a bouquet to send to his wife as a reminder he’s thinking of her.”

Faustine glanced up from where she was meticulously measuring out gold silk ribbon. “And Adamius Studios?” She glanced out the shop window to the studio across the street. It used to be a mattress store, though little of the building’s past life remained on the exterior. 

Zenellia smiled, the light sparkling in her cornflower eyes. “Nous Adamius,” she said, drawing out the surname. “Now there’s an artist who’s in demand. The tattooist of the elite.” She followed Fautine’s gaze. “Hmm. In his case, he’s hosting an art exhibition for select clientele next week. The who’s-who of wealth and influence will be there--they always show up for art exhibits.”

“And our supplying the floral arrangements might garner other high-end customers in addition to Nous,” Faustine surmised. 

“Smart girl,” Zenellia said, taking a prim sip of tea. “You know, I have a mind to let you finalize the arrangements with Mr. Adamius.”

“Really?” Faustine clasped her hands to her mouth with excitement. “A solo consult?”

Zenellia chuckled, leaning against the glass counter. “I’ve already discussed the arrangements with him, so this will just be hemming in the finer details. Where he wants the vases placed and so on. You’ve been with me on enough consultations and set-ups, you can do this on your own.”

“Thank you Miss Zenellia!” Faustine reigned herself in. “I can handle this,” she said, straightening her posture. “When do I meet with him?”

“Tomorrow morning, before his studio opens.”

                                                    **********

Faustine enjoyed fashion. And art and flowers and color. Her wardrobe was a blend of bright color and textures. Her grandmother used to say that she would have loved Earth back in the 1980’s and based on pictures she’d seen, Faustine was inclined to agree. 

But today was professional. Her mentor was trusting her to make a good impression and Faustine needed to represent Thessian Impressions while also simultaneously reassuring Nous--Mr. Adamius--that he’d made a wise choice in ordering floral arrangements for his event and should consider doing so again. 

Faustine chose a slate pant-suit with a violet camisole from the back of her closet. It was from an elite fashion line, but had been on clearance since it was from the year before. Still, as she slipped on black high heels, Faustine felt a sense of empowerment. 

She hesitated over her hair. Did turians even notice human hair? Should she take the extra effort to curl it? Deciding it couldn’t hurt, Faustine brushed, curled, and styled her auburn locks until they gleamed under the artificial bathroom lights. Some mascara and bright red lipstick completed the look and before she could second guess herself, she was hailing a skycar and then stepping out in front of Adamius Studios.

She normally walked to work, but doing so in heels was out of the question. These were shoes for show, not practicality. Pulling up her omni-tool, she contacted Mr. Adamius to let him know she was from Thessian Impressions and here to speak to him. 

The windows to the studio were opaque, but in a slow parade of light starting from the back of the building, the room lit up. The door opened as Faustine leaned closer to peer inside. 

“Hello.” 

“Hi! Mr. Adamius?”

He nodded, opening the door wider for her to enter. She’d seen him before, of course--he worked across the street. She’d never seen him up close, though. He was a good deal taller than her but held himself tightly like a curled fern frond. The effect gave him a shorter, hunched appearance. 

He had pale plates, not quite white, but a light tan. His hide was a deep molten red with eyes that reminded her of orange, autumn leaves. 

His most notable feature wasn't his eyes or plates or posture. He had bold, purple colony markings which ran in thick lines toward his eye sockets like a roadmap.The plating on his arms bore similar lines of the same color. Faustine wondered if colony markings extended all over the body. She’d never considered it before, but as she admired the bold, black, geometric patterns that spiraled away from his neck plating in a decorative collar, she decided that this was art, unrelated to the colony markings turians were so famous for. 

Mr. Adamius cleared his throat loudly and Faustine realized with racing horror that she’d been staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth like he were an exhibit on show. 

“Oh!” It was her turn to clear her throat. “Your tattoos are beautiful,” she murmured, looking at the floor. 

“Thank you.” His voice was soft. Not at all loud and bold like his art. “You work for Matriarch Zenellia?”

Faustine released a small sigh that they were moving on. “Yes, I’m her protege, as it were. She wanted me to finalize the details with you for next week.”

She smiled, tilting her head in a friendly manner. Mr. Adamius flicked out a mandible in what she associated as a turian smile, though he avoided looking her in the eyes. She wondered if that was a personality thing or something… maybe he doesn’t like me? 

“I was thinking of an arrangement on the reception desk and a few smaller vases along the wall,” Mr. Adamius said, pointing to where several bed posts were mounted and functioning as coat racks. A large, framed canvas sat beneath the racks. On it was what looked like an abstract shoal of fish with luminous, foreign script weaving through it. Faustine didn’t recognize the writing but felt it safe to assume it was turian.“I discussed using a mix of thessian, earth, and palaveni flowers,” Mr. Admius continued. “I want the color scheme to stay cobalt, gold, and white, but I’m open to flower types. Nothing too lavish, the art is the focal point.”

“Zenellia mentioned that,” Faustine said, wiping away any concerns about her likability for the moment. Pulling up her omni-tool, she moved closer to Mr. Adamius to show him the samples of different arrangements in the colors he’d requested. This close, she could smell a slightly acrid scent of what she assumed was ink. But overpowering that was a woody smell that reminded her of pine trees. Mr. Adamius smells like Christmas, she thought.

She glanced up at him from where he was admiring a proposed arrangement. He was wearing loose fitted clothes that placed his heavily inked hide on full display. Zenella had mentioned he was younger, but the asari considered everyone younger since she herself was 876 years old.

Nous seems like he’s my age. Maybe a little older. Early to mid thirties? 

“I like this one best,” he said, oblivious to her internal musings. Faustine looked at the arrangement he’d chosen. It was the one she’d put together. Not the four Zenella had proposed, but the one she had done. 

“I did that one,” she told him proudly. 

“It’s beautiful,” he said in a softer voice, looking not at her eyes, but seemingly her hair. “It’ll work perfectly for what I have planned.”

Instead of replying Faustine responded by grinning at him like an idiot. She was high on accomplishment, she’d convince herself later. But it was thanks to this that Mr. Adamius nervously glanced away, toward a small, unassuming painting partially concealed by the reception desk.

“Is that an anchor?” She pointed at the familiar shape which was the main subject of the painting. 

“Yes. I’m fond of the nautical themes found in all cultures. The convergence of design between them, be they human, asari, or turian. We’re all interconnected by the oceans of our worlds.” He let out a quiet hum, unfurling from his tightly held hunch. “It reminds me of my childhood, too, I suppose.”

“You grew up near the ocean?” Faustine asked curiously. “I thought turians weren’t the biggest fans of deep, open water. No offense!” she added, horrified she’d possibly insulted him. 

His easy chuckle immediately set her at ease. “Overall, you’re right. Most turians avoid the open ocean. But my homeworld is different.” His mandibles flicked outward as he looked down at his hands. The three fingers of his left hand each bore a small fish tattoo on the knuckle. “Rocam has a huge fishing industry. I grew up around the sea and fishing boats. My childhood involved lots of fishing and playing in the surf. Eating charred salmo around a beach fire with my grandparents. Listening to fisherman swap stories on the wharf.”

Faustine watched the fish tattoos flex with his fingers. Remembering the other canvas leaning against the wall, she looked closer at the framed picture. The fish looked like they were formed from ink splats, honed with a pen to give them more definition and shape.

“You did that?” she asked pointing. 

Turning, Mr. Adamius nodded. “I did all the nautical themed paintings in here,” he said. Faustine felt like the quiet, rolling subvocals under the spoken words were proud. 

“You’re so talented,” she sighed, feeling mildly envious. “Do you have other paintings like that one?”

“Yes, but they’re in the back. I’ll put them out next week for the exhibit.”

“Oh.”

“I…” a soft whine escaped through his tightly clamped mandibles. “Would you, um. Like to come to the exhibit?”

“Your art exhibit next week? Of course I’d love to go!” Faustine forced herself to school her features into a more poised look. “I mean, if you’re inviting me, I’d absolutely love to see the rest of your work.”

Nous let out a huff of air. “It’s not just my work, all the artists in the studio are going to display something. But if you’d like to come, I’d love to see you. At the event.” He cleared his throat, stepping away from her personal space which at some point he’d entered. 

“Thank you,” Faustine whispered, feeling a blush creep over her cheeks. “Um, I’ll let Zenella know which arrangement you selected and where and how many you wanted.” She made to head for the door, but forgetting her high heels, tripped and nearly collapsed face first into the deep blue and white rug.

A strong arm seized her around the waist and held her until she was steady on her feet again. “Damn shoes,” she muttered, more embarrassed then she’d been in years. “Nous, I--”

“Not a problem. Are you all right?”

“Fine, I’m fine. Only thing injured is my pride.” She gave him a sheepish smile, sure her face was beet red. 

For the first time since she’d entered his studio, Nous looked her in the eye. “Wounded pride isn’t the worst injury,” he said in that soft, smokey voice. 

She stared into the swirling amber of his irises. Turians had smaller eyes than humans, but their gaze was intense. She wondered what he thought about her own hazel eyes. 

He bowed his head after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, I’ll see you at the exhibit?”

“Before that, actually,” she replied, blinking away whatever trance she’d fallen under. “I’ll bring the flowers by an hour before your exhibit starts.”

“I look forward to seeing you then.”

So do I, Faustine thought, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she headed out the door. So do I.

[fatcowboys]

its a widely accepted fact that if you have you are in a position where you have to watch a Ton of childrens television that bluey is, by far, the best option of the kids media out there. like its one of the few shows that thinks about the adults who end up watching these shows on top of the kids watching it and did small things to make it enjoyable for parents too.

like a major thing is the writing. it feels much more natural than shows that are specifically aimed at like. Teaching yknow theres no prompting kids to participate along or anything. the plotting is grounded - its just a show about a family. they arent super heroes, they dont go on grand adventures, they do normal, regular things.

i also read that for the voice acting of the kids in the show, rather than using professional adult voice actors pitching their voices to sound like kids, they often recorded actual children, many of them kids of people who worked on the show. which helps it feel much more genuine rather than faked

some Smaller things they do include the music. every episode is individually scored, so the musical cues dont get repititive and obnoxious (even if you are like me and work in a childrens hospital where bluey is often playing in the background) and also often incorporate classical music into the theme. Plus, the theme is easily the best one out there - no lyrics, just a fun little tune followed by characters saying their names. which is Far better than other theme songs that are usually just. repeating the same lines and the name of the show.

anyway. heres my unexpected bluey infodump. shout-out to the me who was almost a teacher which is part of why i find it so interesting to read abt why this show in particular is as loved as it is by both kids and adults lmao

[cxndlequeen]

Now and again, he needed to be outside. Amongst others, see what was happening in Totto Land in general. So long as he avoided Whole Cake, he was generally assured to avoid Mother, which was for everyone's benefit. The less he crossed her mind, the better it was for the two of them. Rumours filtered through onto his island of Calvados, that there was a new act. And since another week reading in the library seemed like an act of repitition, Craquelin decided to see what was up.

Mingling with the crowd was easy, sipping from the cocktail glass in his hand as he watched the guitarist play and sing, mildly curious as to his talents. Were they just passing through, or had they decided to become residents of this place? Applauding with the crowd as best he could considering there was nowhere to place his margarita, he offered a soft smile. Not bad, not bad at all.

Leaning against the wall so he couldn't be taken from behind, he knew better than to trust people. Staring at the crowd as he put his glass on the counter, wordlessly ordering another one when someone was coming over. Who was this brave little one, most people didn't dare look him in the eye. Glittery spandex and a doublet, now he really had seen everything. Then again... His prussian blue frock coat, silver paisley waistcoat and grey cravat were hardly standard. Neither were his silver contoured trousers or stiletto-heeled boots, Craquelin clearly had an eye for fashion as he played with a dangly earring on his left lobe absent-mindedly. If one was to go out, you might as well put your glad rags on and your best foot forward.

"A calming serenade to an eclectic evening, the aerial silks were most enjoyable. One does love dinner and a show." There was something hypnotic and smooth in the voice, a refined, high-class accent. The gooseberry green eyes seemed to sparkle in the low light, flecks of gold in them that held all the secrets in the world. "It's been a nice change of pace."

@cxndlequeen

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ––––––––

Cupid reclined on one of the candy colored couches in the pub, sweetened drink in hand, given freely by the bartender for their aerial silk performance that night. Pink eyes glittered with wonder as they watched the last bit of entertainment of the night, their crew's doctor, guitar in hand, singing out to the small crowd packed into the tables. They'd heard him sing plenty of times in the late hours of the night, unbeknownst to him, but hearing him sing on a small stage, in a room full of people, made their heart swell with pride. He'd gone from being almost too scared to sing in front of his crew properly, to singing aloud to the residents of Totto Land, even engaging with the audience between songs to garner further attention. Only his own daughter could beat them as his biggest fan.

Just as the song finished to a raucous applause, the sight of a familiar shade pink hair in the crowd caught their attention. The shade was familiar, one they'd seen among the many, many children of Totto Land's infamous queen. He was smaller compared to most of them, in fact he seemed to be about the same height as Cupid, which would make approaching him much easier than it would be his much taller and overall larger siblings. He looked to be about their age as well, perhaps more pliable than his elder siblings. They could only hope he was unmarried as well because he was gorgeous.

They swaggered towards their target, pulling their captains coat over their glittery spandex outfit as they did. As the next song began, they leaned on the wall next to the stranger, face splitting into a sharp toothed smile, ❝ Our band's singer is really talented, huh? Gotta say, it's nice to wind down with that pretty voice of his. ❞ They twirled an auburn strand of hair around a finger, ❝ Have you enjoyed your time tonight, honey? ❞

[hayley566]

I'm rewatching Linkara's aka @atopfourthwall review of "infinite crisis" and I think I finally get why I've started to like superboy prime, not as a character, but as a concept. Sorta. Let me explain.

Superboy Prime represents toxic fans or just toxic attitudes in general. Given the shit that has been going on with Star Wars and certain parts of the marvel and DC comic fanbases and even fans getting harassed for what spider-man portrayal they like most...yeah, I think the idea of a personification of toxic fandom is more prominent then ever. Even his repetitive way of saying "You're ruining everything!" and "Everything was better on my Earth!" isn't unlike the repititive crap I've seen in recent years from toxic fans.

Seriously, I'm already seeing thumbnails on youtube for videos about how Black Widow is "feminazi SJW propaganda" or whatever, not unlike when Captain Marvel and Birds of Prey came out. I'm just not even surprised at this point. It's like a neverending cycle now. (DISCLAIMER: if you dislike these films, that’s okay. I’m mostly referring to those who act like they’re the death of cinema and who’s reviews are mostly just throwing insults at those who do like these films and/or throw in some misogynist views or whatever.)

Also, now when you hear or read one of these stupid opinions or arguments based in hate, you can now just imagine it in Linkara's superboy prime voice.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

just a long ask re: dionysus XD

Heyyy I am that Dionysus lover anon lol

I read the the new part and damn I really liked it😭 I am in love with the male oc so ig am in love with you too? Lmaoo

Apart from the smut, (which was awesome btw🖐️🏻) like I said before, I love their relationship sm. Not JUST as in how the male oc is basically their tr and of him teaching them stuff. But as in what they feel for each other, other than the sexual attraction. Basically many of the things that isn't directly said in the story, but is in the story?

I don't even know if you meant them like that lol but, I was imagining their relationship as something deeper (maybe more than it is-) and I really loved that about the story!

Sorry for the blabbering LOL

I just wanted to say that I liked the story and characters a lot (╯‿╰)

I do always write with intentional subtext :) All dialogue, character actions, repitition, and word choice are intentional; I consider everything very carefully. I think the things left unsaid are just as important as the dialogue. JK's view and reader's view towards male wiyllt (me) are slightly different (although they do overlap) and I tried to show that subtle difference in these two parts.

Thank you for enjoying! <3 I really wondered if anyone would like it tbh, it's hard to introduce OCs (even if they're me LMAO)

To clarify, this OC is definitely "how I would look/act if I was a guy" and, although it is not that different from me irl, there are differences because, as we know, I'm a very private person. For instance, I do not have a dick (wow!) but I'm sure having one would change some things about me, because of course I wouldn't have experienced the loveliness of being a woman in a male-dominated society (can you sense my dripping sarcasm lol).

The silver rings thing is real though.

In case you're out and about, catching yourself looking for my hands. XD

[themanontheearth]

August 26th, 2021

Well, it’s been a while since I’ve created a journal. I’ve always been inconsistent, but after reading countless of blogs, watching hundreds of Jordan Peterson videos, I think it’s time to try and shove this one up my ass. It’s been great seeing my progress through the years but I feel like creating a blog can help me quantify my journey in this vast, endless pit we call the Internet. Tumblr is great since it operates as a social media network (FB, IG, Twitter), which (and i dont know for sure) can activate the same neural pathways as if I was actually on those popular websites, therefore allowing me to feel a sense of gratification, but the website also lets me create my own content similar to the artists, influencers, athletes, coaches that I’ve always looked up to. Win-win.

Recently, I’ve been spending time outside of the four squares (phone, TV, PC), and by that, I mean actually conversing with my parents, cousins, my little brother, and other people as well. I’ve been cleaning up the house, making sure to tidy for my mom to come home, and been making attempts to cook for myself and for my brother. Next step is to start grocery shopping for the school year. I don’t know what exactly possessed me to do this. Maybe it’s my ever-growing faith and commitment to God (in other words, my commitment to put forth positive energy into this unvierse - if you’re an atheist reading this), or it’s just that I realize I’ve been acting like those 30-year old dudes living in their mom’s basement demanding everything to be catered to them. Similar to a Peter Pan. A living fantasy where nothing can harm me and everything is easy and everything is given to me. The problem with this is that I don’t face life. I’m hiding from it in the depths of my basement. My PC set up is in the dark and I shy away from the world. Once I realize how disgusting this is, I decided to switch up my attitude and energy towards others. How can I expect to be successful in athletics, work, volunteering, relationships, or friendships if I hide away from everything? Maybe that’s why my anxiety and depression are ever-so present in my brain. I can’t deal with the little stuff, so I overcompensate on the bigger ones and I get overwhelmed becasue of it. I can’t even speak my native tongue of Vietnamese, yet I have the audacity to assume that everyone should fall in love with me because I’m somewhat tall, muscular, and can dress nicely? I expect to be a good amateur boxer yet I continue to yell at my mom whenver she speaks the truth about me? I expect to be a sociable person, yet I cower in the basement while my brother wants to play with my upstairs? What’s wrong with me? Priorities is what it is. It’s not just a switch of attitude towards life, but a commitment into prioritizing what is right for me.  My old coach used to say: 

1. God 

2. Family 

3. Basketball 

I understood it at the time, but the problem with understanding is that you think you understand it. But until you’ve actually breathed, digested, metabolized, have every single cell in your body reiterate a certain belief, metaphor, motivational quote, saying, then you actually don’t understand it. It takes repititions to understand it. And it’s years of my self-deprecication, yet willingness to improve myself to actually understand the priorities of my life.

If you’re reading this from the future: go out there. Get out and suffer. Sacrfice the instant gratifcation. Listen to people. Read books. Swim with your little brother. Talk to people. Sacrifice your comfort zone. Get out there and drill those footwork drills. Chase what is meaningful, not what is expedient. Clean up your goddamn bedroom, washroom, living room, mom’s room, bathroom before you look at politics. Do better than yesterday. Do it. Watch some Vietnamese shows. Embarass yourself in Vietnamese. Work more. Play better. DRAW MORE. Just do shit. Once you start doing these, maybe your little defects, failures, and problems can seem like minor inconvinences rather than huge mountains.  

[siriuslywolfish-pg9]

Drarry+Flowercrowns🥀 (part 1)

It strated with a single flower on a pleasant october afternoon when Harry and Draco were relaxing under a tree.

Harry was pouting because Draco wasn't giving him any attention as he was busy reading his charms text-book. (Things were rough for Draco after the war and he really could not afford to slack off.)

So Harry did the only mature thing to do. He conjured a bunch of blossoms and showered them on Draco.

And it wasn't the soft romantic kind of shower but full on flowers shooting straight out of Harry's wand and smacking Draco right in the face. Getting under his robes and everything.

Draco spluttered and glared at Harry, crossing his arms over his chest, but the way Harry was laughing, open and tingling, made it hard for Draco to get mad at him.

So Draco just rolled his eyes exasperatedly (and fondly)--which only made Harry burst into giggles--and went back to his book.

That was until Harry leaned forward, still grining from ear to ear, and, plucking a stray flower that was stuck in Draco's hair, placed it gently behind Draco's ear before kissing his cheek (And if Harry's fingers lingered just a little bit longer on Draco's cheek and his jaw and his neck, then that was neither here nor there.)

And Draco, with his heart beating wildly in his chest and his cheeks turning pink, was unable to stop the small smile that spread across his face. Idiot, he muttered, not looking up from his book.

After that, Harry put a flower behind Draco's ear or in his hair every chance he got, just to watch Draco blush and get flustered because--

Damn! Potter is so close, and he is smiling that stupid charming smile of his.

And Harry kissed Draco everytime he put a flower. Sometimes the kisses were on Draco's cheeks, other times they were a soft brush of lips against his forehead or his temple, and sometimes they were playful pecks on his lips.

Draco acted annoyed but he secretly loved those tender moments. (And Harry knew that.)

Draco let the flowers stay when they were alone together. Later he pressed them between the pages of a diary he espeacially made for this purpose.

Harry didn't know about the diary, of course.

This went on until one day, when they were resting under the same secluded tree, Harry fell asleep with his head on Draco's lap while the slytherin was studying.

When Draco noticed that Harry has dozed off, he felt a little warm and fuzzy in his chest because Harry trusted him enough to let his guard down around him.

And Draco, feeling a little mischivious and a little giddy, tentatively placed a tiny flower behind Harry's ear and gently brushed his fringes aside to plant a tender kiss on his forehead.

Tucking back an unruly dark curl, Draco combed his fingers through Harry's hair, watching as the Griffindor's eyes flickered open.

At first Draco froze with his hand still hovering uncertainly over Harry's head, unsure about how Harry would react because, lets face it, they still weren't anything official. (Because of course neither of these dumbasses had gathered the courage to actually ask the other one out, even when they had already gone to too many 'friendly' dates, Lmao.)

But before Draco could start panicking, Harry smiled, that sleepy, lazy and open smile of his, it was small and fragile, and Draco's heart flipped in his chest.

With a soft sigh, Harry relaxed further in Draco's lap before closing his eyes and falling back asleep.

That night, the whole school stared as Harry Potter, war hero, master of death and defeater of the dark lord, walked into the great hall with a flower in his hair.

Drarry+Flower crowns🥀 (part 2)

After that Draco always tucked a new flower behind Harry's ear, searching for more and more beautiful flowers, trying different colours and shades and fragrances.

Simetimes he also charmed them to sparkel or change colours, and other times he charmed them for luck or dipped them in potions with calming properties (once even Flitwick asked to get a closer look at one of Harry's flowers because the charms work was commendable.)

Draco loved it as it was his silent way of showing the world that Harry was his, even if he couldn't say it out loud.

Harry wore the flowers proudly and unabashedly for as long he could until he either lost them while sleeping or doing something, or they dried or faded.

The charmed flowers with longer life span found their way into a glass jar which Harry kept on his bedside table.

The jar soon became full of colourful patels and calming fragrences, some flowers even glowed in the night.

When Harry woke up after a terrible nightmare, he would stare at the jar until he fell asleep again. It helped him relax. It was a reminder to Harry of how much Draco cared about him. How Draco did little things to cheer him up, and those tiny gestures meant more to Harry than anyone, even Draco, could fathom.

Soon the school started to catch on and the rumour mill went wild. Everyone was gossiping about Harry Potter's secret behind his chain of enchanted flowers.

Bets were being placed, most of them were about Harry Potter's secret admirer or his paramour. (Ginny bet on it being Professor Sprouts just to take the piss, and Seamus bet on it being a pre requsite routine for an elaborate dark ritual.)

Soon Draco got more and more creative with his flowers, until one day he came across luna making a flower crown.

He watched luna from afar, getting intrigued by the quiant art, and implored her if she would teach him how to make one?

Draco was hesitant to ask at first, not sure if he deserved any generosity from Luna. But luna being luna, just smiled and patted the grass next to her and invited Draco to join.

Watching her nimble fingers threading together flowers of vibrant colours, Draco was mesmerised by the intricate patterns and delicate knots that come together to form a flower crown.

Soon, Draco became obsessed with them, practising secretly, day and night, to master the art of making flower crowns. He raided the green house to get the right flowers and searched the library for suitable charms.

He realised that the repititive pattern of tying flowers together was rather calming, it helped him relax whenever he felt anxious as it gave him something to do with his hands.

Of course, Harry became the recipient of Draco's creativity.

The upgrade from flowers to a crown was not lost to the school, which was in an uproar with speculations by now.

Of course, no one had figured out that Draco was behind it. Because it's Malfoy, and it wasn't like people were paying any attention to him, and Draco was okay with that. Everyone had mostly avoided Draco and left him alone since the begining of the term, apart from some hexes here and there (which stopped after Harry caught some 6th years trying to hurt Draco and went all defeater-of-the-dark lord on them. It was scary!)

Then one day at breakfast, around Christmas, a box was delivered to Harry.

Inside it was a crown with sparkling silver-blue and white flowers, tiny charmed butterflies of the same shade flying on it.

The entire school held its breath and silently stared in awe as Harry picked up the note from the box.

Be my date for the Christam ball?

And Harry's jaw went slack, because he knew this was a huge step for Draco, not only was Draco putting himself out there for Harry (which Harry knew was very difficult for the blond since war had made Draco more guarded and insecure), but it also meant that they would be going public. It would be official, whatever it was between them.

Harry had the sudden urge to just get up and kiss Draco right then and there in front of the whole school.

But he controlled himself. Feeling all the eyes on the back of his neck, Harry picked up the crown and placed it on his head before going back to his breakfast, ignoring the gasps of gobsmacked students.

Once the chatter of the great hall resumed, Harry scanned the room only to find Draco looking back at him with a shy smile on his face. And Harry's heart just melts because Merlin, he loved this stuborn git so much.

On the evening of the ball, Harry anxiously waited in the entrance hall for Draco, afraid that the slytherin has changed his mind.

But then Draco appeared on the staircase, looking hesitant and a little overwhelmed, wide silver eyes flitting across the room until they landed on Harry and lit up at the sight of him.

Harry was wearing the same flower crown that Draco had given him when he had asked Harry to be his date.

Draco was delighted to see that Harry had even taken the troble to coordinate the colour of his tie to compliment the crown.

Harry conciously adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves as Draco walked towards him.

He couldn't even take his eyes off Draco. Christ! He is so beautiful. How did I get so lucky? was all Harry could think.

I can't make a flower crown but...here, and Harry pulled out a silver flower brooch, resembling the flowers in his hair and pinned it on the lapel of Draco's robes.

Draco beamed, his eyes shining. And Harry's heart skipped a beat.

Ready? He asked, offering his hand to Draco, who took a deep breath feeling not ready at all, but slipped his hand into Harry's anyway before nodding, yeah.

A hush fell over the crowd as the two walked into the hall, hand in hand, wearing similar flowers. And everyone just knew. No one understood how it was possible or what happned, but the way both these idiots were looking at each other left no room for any doubts.

Harry stopped at the centre of the dance floor and slipped his hand around Draco's waist, pulling him close.

I have been waiting do this for so long, Harry breathed before kissing Draco square on the lips. It was firm and gentle and all consuming. Just like Harry.

And that's how the mystery of the enchanted flower crown was solved.

At the back of the room a grumbling Ron passed a galleon to a smug looking Hermione because of course, she knew. It was so obvious. Honestly!

Drarry+Flower crowns🥀 (part 3)

But it didn't end there. Now everyone knew that Draco made amazing flower crowns, and a lot of students wanted to ask Dravo about them, but they were all too scared of the big bad death eater.

It was a first year hufflepuff who finally gathered the courage and asked Draco if he could please make a crown for her sister? It was her birthday.

And Draco, who was now sitting with Harry at the griffindor table, just blinked because she was adorable, such a tiny little thing, all small feet and high pitched voice.

Draco's throat tightened, this was the first time someone had voluntarily talked to him without cursing him (apart from Harry and his friends).

Harry squeezed Draco's hand under the table and brought it to his lips to plant a soft kiss on his knuckles, giving Draco a soft smile.

And Draco--his eyes moist and his voice thick-- replied that of course he would love to make a crown for her.

The girl practically glowed as she bounced back to her classmates who clustered around her in awe, murmering about how cool she was.

This encouraged others too. And soon Draco had juniors flocking around him.

And although Draco felt a little awkward, he liked it, it was much better to be admired and thanked, than to be treated like an evil spawn.

Some kids even asked if Draco could teach them, and he agreed to do so in his free time.

Harry loved watching Draco teaching little kids how to weave flower crowns, he was so sweet and patient and tender with them.

It turned Harry's heart into a puddle of goo. Everytime.

The kids adored Draco. A lot. They were so awed and fascinated by him.

Draco is so smart, they would say when he helped them understand a difficult concept in potions. He soon became their favorite person. He is the best!

They thought Draco's dark mark was kind of wicked and badass, and Draco had to spend an afternoon to make sure that they understood the gravity of it. Glorifying evil isn't healthy for kids, Harry.

Everyone at hogwarts was a little confused. They didn't know how to react to Malfoy being all soft and kind to ickely first years.

And the image of Draco surrounded by a swarm of kids, all learning to weave flowers, did not exactly scream evil.

Luna, Harry and Hermione joined Draco's little gatherings too. And soon Ron was inviting Draco for chess games.

It was Lavender (amongst the older kids) who first initiated talking to Draco, asking if he could help her with a flower crown too. (Because after the werewolf attack, she felt really self concious and some flower accesory would be great).

And of course Draco agreed. He made one especially suited for her, using charms and potions that would help her frazzeled nerves around the full moon.

Lavender was so greatful that she practically jumped on him, hugging him tightly. Thank you, this would really help. You are not so bad after all, Draco.

Draco felt so touched that he almost teared up. Almost.

Word travelled about Lavender and soon Draco found other older kids being a little more open and friendly towards him.

He was in shock for a solid minute when someone randomly said Hi to him in the corridor. And was even more surprised when a Ravenclaw asked if he could partner with Draco in class.

Things escalated around Valentines as people thought Draco's charms were great for the occasion and wanted to ask him about it.

And slowly, but surely, the hostilities reduced and people began to give Draco another chance.

It wasn't all sunshine and roses, some people were still wary of him, but it was better than nothing.

Things finally started to look hopeful and colourful. As if, like a flower crown, Draco was finally weaving his life back into something that he could love and admire.

It took time and patients but he managed to tie the delicate knots of friendship and relationship again.

He had Harry by his side now and future didn't look so bleak anymore.

Just Draco and Harry being happy and fluffy and wearing flowers in their hair. Thankyou.

[ranmagender]

There’s something something that just hits you in the gut. The feeling of endless repitition of mistakes and self-discovery. Listening to the same tips and self-help videos over and over maybe not by the same people but they all say the same thing and you internally understand what you need to do to get your act together but you cycle in and out of actually doing it and at this point you could probably run a self-help seminar with the amount youve read or watched on the topic but your own life continues to be you hitting the same walls over and over?

not that i speak from experience or anything...

[homestuckkinnies]

hi, could i have a tarot reading about my relationship with vriska from my john timeline? all i really have to go on right now are vague feelings of fear and slight bitterness towards her, and i just don't know what happened. we might've been in a romantic relationship, but i'm not sure, and even if we were, i don't even know what quadrant. i'm just so confused cause in some of my other timelines, i have no problem with her, so idk what makes this one different. thank you in advance! :B

Sure Thing John, Please See Under The Cut For What You Seek.

- Mod Kanaya

Your Relationship - King Of Wands

Regardless Of How You Two Felt, Something About Your Relationship DID Help Somewhere Along The Way. Together You Managed To Get Things Done, Despite Your Feelings Towards Eachother - Your Work Ethics Collaborated Together, And You Were Both More Than Capable Of Pushing Through Challenges To Get The Job Done. Perhaps, Due To This, You Two Were Forced Together Due To Necessity. You Understood Eachother, As Much As You May Have Hated It, And Knowing How You Were Both Driven Helped Push Things Along. Perhaps At First There Was No Hate Whatsoever, And You Simply Focused On How Good It Felt To Be Productive, Feelings Of Bitterness Like You Describe Can Often Fester Over Time. Maybe Vriska Did Something In Order To Get Something Done That Affected You Badly, Perhaps She Became To Controlling, Or Even The Other Way Around - Maybe She Didnt Listen To You When You Needed Her To.

Relationship Foundation - King Of Cups (Reversed)

As With Most Reversed Cards, This Means That The Energy In Response To This Question Is More Chaotic And Unstable. Your Relationships Base Was Not Stable At All, Reliant On Manipulation And Emotions, Where Relationships Require A Basis Of Communication In Tandem With Emotional Responses. You Or Vriska Could Have Based Your Entire Relationsip On A Lie. Perhaps Vriska Was Using You In Order To Achieve Her Goals, Since The Previous Card Indicated That You Were Both Incredibly Goal Driven And Often Put In Leader Positions. Nothing Good Comes Out Of A Relationship Based On Mishandling Trust, It Is Possible That Your Feelings Of Resentment Are Because You Found Out, Or Were Found Out And Became Angry And The Result.

Vriskas Feelings -  Ace Of Swords (Reversed)

Once Again, We Find Ourself With The Card In The Reversed Position. Vriska Held Incredible Power Over You, So It Is Most Likely That She Was Indeed The One That Was Manipulating You For Some Reason. Her Power, Instead Of Being Used To Help Better You, Instead Was Used For Brutality And Chaos. It Is Not Certain That She Was Cruel To You Physically Or Mentally, But My Understanding Of This Is That You Two Were In An Incredibly Unhealthy Situation. That Being Said, This Card Also Reads Into A Bit Of Confusion - It Is Possible That The Reason That Vriska Was Wronging You In The First Place Was That She Thought You Two Were In For A Pitch Relationship, Perhaps She Incorrectly Thought That You Wronged Her First And Therefore Wanted Revenge, Whatever The Reason - She Was Also Muddled, Perhaps She Didnt Even Know Why She Was Hurting You, And Felt Bad For It.

Your Needs - The Hermit

You Needed, In Short, Enlightenment. Both In Terms Of Understanding That What Vriska was Doing Was Unhealthy And That Your Relationship As A Whole Was Built On Chaos, But Also - You Were Looking For A Sort Of Friend (Or Quadmate) Who Could Offer You Insight On Yourself And Help You Understand Things How You Needed To See Them. I Am Unsure If Vriska Did Or Didnt Help You, Since Your Relationship Did Mutually Benefit At First, Perhaps It Was Vriskas Clarity Of Self That Drew You To Her, And Truly Made You Think That You Two Would Hit It Off. Maybe You Were Aware Of What You Wanted In The Relationship, Or Perhaps It Was A Sort Of Subconscious Feeling That Vriska Would Be Both Beneficial To You, And Also A Fun, Happy Influence In Your Life.

Combined Needs -  IV Of Cups

Its Rather Odd, But Both Of You Essentially Wanted A Break From The World. You Were Sure That You Could Help Eachother Along In Life, But Really What You Wanted Was Solace. That Being Said, Im Not Quite Sure Thats What You Got In The End (We Will See What The Cards Have To Say When We get To That). Bordering On Escapism, You Just Needed A Friend - As Simple As That. Perhaps What You Needed Was A Pale Quadrant Filled.

Vriskas needs - IX Of Pentacles

Well, In Short Vriska Needed Something Out Of You, A Bit More Than Just Plain Old Respit And Good Natured Friendship. Vriska Was Not Able To Handle A Coddling Relationship. She Needed Her Own Healthy Break From You - Perhaps You Were A Bit Too Close, Which Is What Caused Things To Grow Unstable. Unable To Gain A Sense Of Victory Out Of You And Cooped Up With Other People, She Began To Lash Out And Manipulate You - Perhaps This Was Before Your Relationship Even Took Off. It Could Not Have Been You But Others That Wouldnt Give Vriska Her Due Space, And You Just Happened To Be The Object Of Her Frustration. Aside From This, Vriska Needed Someone To Share A Victory With - Perhaps Thats What She Really Wanted To Squeeze Out Of You, She May Have Thought That If You Were Pushed Hard Enough You Would Begin To Tough Up - The Cultural Distance Causing A Divide Between The Two Of You.

Your Expectations -  VI Of Swords

This Is A Bit Of Repitition, But You Expected Your Relationship With Vriska To Help You On Your Journey, You Wanted Something Beneficial. To You, You Needed Vriska To Be Like A Supporting Movie Role, To Help You Move On From The Past And Become A Version Of Yourself That You Could Love. In Fact, You May Have Even Been A Bit Too Reliant On Vriska - Something Like That Must Have Seemed Very Alien To Her. On The Flipside, It Is Possible That You Wanted Her To Offer You Emotional Help When You Were In A Painful Place.

Combined Expectations - Strength

Much Like I Have Been Saying, You Two Both Expected Eachother To Be Heroes And Just As The First Card Said - Achieve Some Sort Of Victory Through Eachother.

Vriskas Expectations - IX Of Wands

Vriska Wanted You To Push Her More, Perhaps She Was Expecting You To Fill The Roles Of A Quadrant That You Hardly Knew. She Was Tired, And Was Trying To Make You Act More To A Certain Cut So That You Could Help Her Push Through The Last Stretch. Once Again, This Is A Rather Short Paragraph As There Is Not Much To Add Haha!

Relationship Turnout -  Justice

Much Fitting To Design, The Truth Came Through. Vriska Understood That You May Not Have Been Able To Fill That Cut That She Expected Of You. She May Have Moved On And Left You. That Being Said, You Realized That You Were Being Manipulated, And You Were Hurt - After All It Sounds Like You Were Really Trying To Trust Vriska. This Is A Card Of Karma - It Is Likely That You Sought Revenge, Or Rather That Vriska Met Her Own Pain Threefold Of What She Brought Unto You.

Remember That You Know Your Timeline Best, The Cards Can Only Push You In A Certain Direction. Regardless, I Hope That This Helps!

[sunrisetune]

A fun game to play when listening / watching / reading a New Thing is “Is this an intentional build-up to a pattern of foreshadowing, or is it just a trope or setting or narration beat the author likes” aka, “How many of these dots are actually connected”

Cases in point for TMA so far, under the jump:

CW: Body horror, a Bunch of violence, bug-related horror mentions

-

Fittingly enough for a show about an archive, Books!

Hands, just, everywhere. This one I’m certain is symbolism if only bc it’s way too blatant not to be, but symbolism for What. what, I say

Fucking uhhhhhhhh eyes. So many eyes

Yellow, apparently

It reminds me a lot of how ‘Alice Isn’t Dead’ used yellow! Marking a malovent, disgusting thing, which is counter to nicer / more common uses of yellow to mean like, sunlight, brightness, safety, warmth, gold / riches, etc. Which is counter again, but in a different way, to how WTNV (quickest example) used yellow for an antagonistic force but one that was like... still very malovent, but aggressively clean and controlled, where the over-brightness was the point. COLOURS \o/

2a.m. specifically. Not “very early in the morning” or “after midnight”, but always at the two o’clock hour in the morning. It’s happened like... at least five times now.

So many different kinds of pulsing light!  Which are somehow tied to The Nothing wolf, a la Neverending Story, apparently

Also, skin?? Specifically peeling off skin?? At first I thought this part might just be a Horror Mainstay but atst wOW that’s a very specific act of violence to come up more than once

I know-know that something is up with all of the fractal references, I’ve heard that one of the Entities What The Stories Involve deals with spirals? Tbh before assumed it was more of a metaphor but it seems pretty literal so far. Whether that means they’re all connected or just some of them remains to be seen though \o/

Related, possibly: not fractals by name, but there’s been a few instances of ‘hypnotic’ and/or literally hypnotic patterns-- illustrations in books, carved into fancy tables, sheer repitition in writing

Same with knowing that there’s something up with the ‘Corruption’ as a red flag word and think that has to do with the uhhhhhhhh. Horrible horror-terror bug things in people which I mostly skip over and try not to think too hard about, because that’s my major gross-out that I’ve encountered in the podcast so far Which, like. I gather that thinking about fear is at least partly supposed to be The Point, so in a way I feel kinda?? bad??? about intentionally skipping parts of / most of episodes that’ll trip my Nope alarm

But, on the other hand? Fuck that. That’s what the content warnings are explicitly for, and I don’t have anything to prove to anybody. Interact with content in a way that keeps you well, friends

More as the story develops, maybe!

[artofmemoriesbrooklyn]

Eva Hesse

No title, 1970

My first introduction to Eva Hesse’ work ironically enough was the last piece she ever made, No title. It was a part of an exhibit at the Whitney.  I didn’t know it was the last piece she ever made, that she had enlisted the help of her friends to construct it as she was dying. I remember being struck by the  tangled rope like structure, tense in some places, sagging in others. It’s chaos was juxtaposed by the Whitney’s white walls, it didn’t seem like it was reluctant to be there but it also seemed like it didn’t belong anywhere, I remember trying to understand how they had been able to install something that seemed so by chance as a part of the exhibition. I didn’t know that chance was part of it, that there are 13 anchor points in the piece, but that it was made to not be suspended in a particular way. The work is never repeated, allowed to decide for itself how it is seen.

I decided to focus on her piece Contingent, made shortly before Untitled. What is most striking to me are the materials she uses. It is eight panels made up of latex covered cheesecloth with each end embedded in fiberglass. As I began reading about the conservation efforts towards her pieces it became clear how transient and volatile the materials are, they seem not made to last. Or at least, to not remain the same with the passage of time, contrary to the conservation efforts I have been reading about. It seems fitting then that much of her focus was on gravity and light, and its effect on the sculpture. How the light shone through the latex and the fiberglass, how the gravity added tension to it. As in with a lot of her work there is tension, between her background as a painter and her work as a sculptor, in the burst of energy and activity that brought it to life but in how quickly it would start to decay, it’s strength and it’s weakness. Hesse knew latex decays quickly, and despite knowing that she still chose it. That fiberglass grows to be brittle and discolored. The fiberglass pulls the latex covered cheesecloth tight, but also increases the rapidity of the work’s decay. In order to achieve the effect she wanted, she sacrificed it’s permanence, in favor of a fleeting moment of rightness. 

Much of Hesse’ short life is marked by trauma. Born in Nazi Germany, fleeing to the Netherlands and then emigrating to the US where she contined to experience losses in her personal life, both her childhood and adulthood were certainly shaped by these events. Midway through working on Contingent, Hesse collapsed and was diagnosed with brain cancer. She had to leave her teaching position but was determined to finish in time for her first solo exhibition, while she had planned on having 9 sheets it ended up being 8. Because she had to seek help from students and friends to finish the piece, the last few sheets are different from the beginning ones which she had done mostly by herself with some assistants. Although she made some preliminary sketches, the process of making seems so important to her, almost as important as the final product. This and strong concept is what is the driving force. This is what I love about her approach, instead of being angry that each sheet was not exactly the same, she embraced it, relished in it’s difference. She welcomed the “divergency’ from one piece to the next, and the way in which they are geometric but not”. In contrast with a lot of work at the time, hers is organic, hints at bodies, is simple and strange and familiar and gross all at the same time. Repition is a theme throughout her work, but in the physical repitition of making, I don’t think the intention is to create an exact replica, but instead see the variation that comes within the same physical act. This is part of why everything feels so transient, as well as the materials she used much of her work does not remain the same somehow. The installation is different, the spacing is different, nothing remains exactly the same as it was. It’s fascinating that so many of her pieces seem to have a life span, or evolve as if implying that they are alive, or at least participating in this world.

Lara Darling

Image citations:

Image 1: Hesse, “Untitled”, 1970 (via whitney.org)

Image 2: Hesse, “Contingent”, 1969 (via nga.gov.au)

Image 3: Hauser &Wirth, “Eva Hesse at work”, 1964-65 (via artsy.net)

Image 4: Hesse, “Sans II”, 1968 (via glenstone.org)

Image 5: Frances Mulhall Achiles Library, “Eva Hesse in front of Expanded Expansion”, 1969 (via whitney.org)

[beauty-is-there]

Pansy Parkinson hc!!

Pansy Parkinson amirite

Asian/Woman/Slytherin

She fits some stereotypes alright

She's a damn hard worker and she knows its values and also tends to overwork sometimes. She loves learning new things, it's her thing, but she dismisses repititive education because well - where is the fucking progress.

She hates being taken for granted and underestimated, which is why she takes up dangerous jobs during the War. She can't leave her parents, she isn't a trust fund baby because she a woman but she's got grit and determination. Yes, her choices are dark and bad. She knows, she wants to atone but she also didn't see another way out and she needed to save her life and her parents.

Gossip? You mean Intel. You can be assured she will use it for you and against you, both positively and negatively because of what use is information if not for application?

She comes to know from an overheard conversation during dinner that Rainn, that first year Slytherin is acting out and is pissing her friends off? She listens more closely. So she's stopped eating huh? And she's stopped drawing? Pansy finds out that Rainn received a letter from home which preceded these events. She helps Rainn out. She finds out and reads up on how to help a friend (all help books talk of helping friends and not people, what can she do except squash the urge to write her own how to) in tough times. She encourages the girl to draw by peskily asking her to help her draw her Care of Magical Creatures anatomy diagrams since she obviously can't (she really can't, it's so bad) and she uses colour psychology without even realising it?

She's competitive as hell (she's best friends with one Draco Malfoy, for God's sake) but studies only for those subjects she really fucking loves and doesn't give a shit about the others. (The Hogwarts Top Five students are Hermione, Draco, Sanjana (a ravenclaw), Parvati and Pansy) She's proud, hell yes she is, why wouldn't she be?

She also grows. She grows so much as a person. She goes from a person who sobbed the first time she told her best friend she might like a girl and hid her suicide attempt. She grows from a girl who was constantly conscious of what she was wearing because she wasn't wearing it as prettily as some of those other girls were and then there were her parents who kept telling her to dress and eat and act according to customs, girls don't do that, it looks bad honey, people will think we haven't taught you anything. She grows from a girl who was extremely conscious of her short hair and remembering the one time she visited her cousins, they called her a boy and it stuck for years and even her relatives called her so and being so angry because I'm not a boy, boys are disgusting and I don't ever want to be like them and being extremely conscious of her small chest and low development that only adds to the "boy drama" to :

Being a girl who dresses fearlessly ('I don't usually do this but I like you so I want to know - are you aware you're wearing print on print?' 'Yeah.' 'Is it on purpose?' 'Yeah.' 'Well, it's annoying to see.' 'Oops. I'll do what I want.') and cusses freely and openly and sO much and who lives with the motto of "No one will care for you, love you and protect you as well as you will yourself" and is still growing, still learning, and is ready to call out bullshit. She lives in Muggle London now because they have a term for using colours productively and they are so cool, there's so much to learn and I can add from my own knowledge and mom, dad - thanks but no.

And Draco loves her, she's always so supportive and helpful. She's always there. She'll call him out on his bullshit. She'll tell him to leave that asshole of a boyfriend ('he's emotionally manipulating you Draco, how do you not see it?' 'I know, I know but Pans, he makes me feel so good. And I feel like no one will love me like he does and I don't want to lose it.') And Pansy - she hates seeing him with that spectacled twat who doesn't even know how to sit in a car, good learn some fucking manners: 'What about me? Do I not count? Is it not enough? Is only sex love? Is it even love?'  It takes a few more tries but she finally pries him out of the dishrag's oily hold and helps him heal, right alongside her because you were there for me when I was losing it and you helped me so much and you trusted me so much and I love you, I really do, I'd do anything for you and step no 1 is helping you get back on track because goddamn you deserve so much better and so much more.

And a few (quite a few) years later she meets Hermione Granger on her way to Kingsley's office to collect her and her partner's latest assignment and Hermione is in awe of this spectacular woman with such an amazing brain and wow, the first time she enters Pansy and Draco's apartment and sees how well it has blended magic with a Muggle setting and comes to know that it's all Pansy's doing, she gives up and kisses the girl because goddamit Disney, you were right. And Pansy laughs because she gets it and that leads to more hot kisses and hands travel down her arms and holding her waist and lips finding that perfect spot on her neck that make her moan just so and Draco finds Pansy blushing like crazy  in the kitchen in the morning and soon finds Granger shyly leaving their apartment and spies Pansy getting a cheek kiss and ohmygod get it, Pans!!