#inundated with the message that she’s not herself—

[bestworstcase]

there’s also just. something about how overwhelmingly ruby identifies herself (/has been identified by everyone she knows) with summer—to such an extreme degree that her self-loathing manifests as castigating herself for not being summer—and how little ruby knows about her at the same time, and how ruby fills in the gaps of what she doesn’t know with pieces of herself. the idea of summer as a funhouse mirror alienating ruby from true self-knowledge because she cannot recognize herself except by looking for her mother. and now she’s tearing away at the foundations of that mirror (life isn’t a fairytale and here, take this, it’s the only keepsake she has of her mother’s and by extension it’s the abstracted image of herself) because she wants to escape who she is—& as this happens the narrative draws the truth of summer rose closer to the surface, no longer the flawless (inhuman) paragon of motherly and heroic virtue but the real person who was (is) both good and bad and complicated; a living breathing individual who i increasingly suspect will turn out to be not very much like ruby at all, not in the sense that she was like ruby once and is now jaded and broken but rather that she never was, because the idea of summer rose is so very strongly informed by who ruby is and the implicit pressure ruby has always felt to ‘live up to’ the memory of this fairytale character everyone says is just. like. her.

it’s less about detangling ruby’s sense of self from summer’s legacy than it is ruby discovering that so much of what she thought she received from her mother was actually just her, all along, projected onto the blank (dehumanized) mannequin of someone she couldn’t remember except as the proverbial knight in shining armor. crescent rose stands apart as the one piece of ruby that has no connection to summer, whether real or imagined, because it carries forward something real—qrow was not a mythic paragon in ruby’s life, he was her uncle, for better and worse, the mentor who trained her and supported her but also the unreliable alcoholic she had to take care of, and from the complicated messiness of genuine connection with another person ruby was able to take inspiration and synthesize it with her personal style and personality to arrive at something that is both proud of its heritage and fully and uniquely her—which is why it’s missing now, because it symbolizes the idea of ruby rose that she wants to escape. (but can’t escape, because so much of what she sees as summer is actually ruby.)

the brooch goes in the other direction; it might be the only thing ruby has that is truly and unambiguously summer’s, so narratively of course she had to give it away. only by sacrificing the one piece of herself that really did belong to summer first can ruby begin to smooth out the funhouse mirror of everything else—she needs to sever the true connection to summer before she can cut through the gordian knot of every illusory connection and discover that she was looking at distortions of herself all along, and only then can she return to the question of summer’s legacy (her real legacy, not the legacy of the paragon) and decide what she wants to carry forward. which is to say, she’s getting the brooch back, but she has to get crescent rose back first—because finding crescent rose means vanquishing the alienation that has made her a stranger to herself, and she can’t truly choose or cherish the things she received from her mother until she really knows herself.

#rwby v9 spoilers #like god she’s so. so fucked up <3 #her whole life she’s just been #inundated with the message that she’s not herself— #she’s summer! she’s just like her mother! #( by the fairytale cult. ) #( is she like summer or are they both the silver-eyed warrior of legend? ) #how do you develop a sense of self #when everyone keeps telling you #that yourself is somebody else? #you can’t! #she is always and only herself #but she thinks herself is her mother #and that she is nothing except her failures #gently pats her head. this 17 year old can fit so much identity disturbance

[dfortrafalgar]

would you be interested in a more Platonic type fic? Like being good friends with Robin?

alternatively if it has to be romantic: Law being forced on a disaster of a date only to meet a super helpful (comic) bookshop employee and she starts seeming cute when he finds out she has similar interests? (Boy probably went into cardiac arrest at first when someone caught him not being broody)

hope this isn’t too much!

and you’re doing awesome!

thank you so much for your request, anon!!!! im actually going to use both of your ideas, but i started with the Law one because that hit seriously close to home. ive been on some absolute TRAVESTIES of dates in the past, and i needed to write law suffering through a similar fate or i'd die!!!!! I hope you enjoy, and pretty soon I'll post your platonic Robin request as well! I love writing platonic stories just as much as romantic ones <3

An Out.

Law x Fem Reader

Law made the mistake of letting his friends talk him into a first date… and now he desperately needs an out. Fast.

Warnings: an absolute disaster of a first date for our wonderful nerdy man. modern au, implied college setting, some mild slight suggestive language but nothing more than that

Trafalgar Law tried in vain to recount the series of events that led up to this very moment.

There was the dusty apartment floor discussion about how the med-student hadn’t gotten laid yet, which was followed by a raunchy comment about a girl in someone’s class, it was revealed that this girl was single (‘and ready to mingle’), and her number was forcibly input into Law’s phone.

For the week that followed, he was inundated with flirty texts from this girl he had never met in person.  He was forced to send her a picture of himself, mostly to get her to stop blowing up his texts every hour, and that was the next mistake in the line-up of unfortunate events.

Turned out she had a thing for facial hair.

Then, instead of getting pestered with general flirty messages, it was general flirty messages that were ramped up to a nine.  ‘I’d rip your clothes off if you give me the opportunity,’ kind of nine.

Law knew he was a virgin, but at least he wasn’t this desperate, nor did he have any inclination to be.  If anything, the texts he received from this stranger were making him want sex even less.

And yet… he was still pushed into this.

A date around downtown with this girl.  She clung to his arm, tried to loop her fingers into his, and yet had absolutely no interest in anything he had to say.  At all.

First red flag: she mentioned her ex.  Three times.  In four minutes.  Everything was about what he did wrong to upset her, no self-awareness to be found.  Second red flag: the clinginess.  Law hated public affection, but any attempts to urge her to give him space resulted in a childish pout and her arms caged around his, almost pulling him to the ground.  Third red flag: she couldn’t give two shits about Law, in any sense of the word.  She wouldn’t stop talking about herself.  Her looks, her clothes, her favorite music, her favorite shows to binge watch, her distaste for the area of the city they were in, her distaste for the lunch Law had [regretfully] paid for, her distaste for the speckled jeans he decided to wear…

He could feel the premature wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows the longer the date went on.  He was starting to wonder if he’d have to throw out the shirt he was wearing later.  It already reeked of the too-strong, powdery-scented perfume she bathed herself in.

“Where do you wanna go?” she suddenly asked, still tugging on his arm.

“I kinda want to stop by the bookstore before we leave,” he suggested, his feet already carrying him, and by extension, her, along the sidewalk to a small bookshop that had just recently opened.

“The bookstore?  What kinda guy brings a girl to a bookstore on a first date?!” she demanded, showing off yet another childish pout.  It wasn’t a good look on her.

‘A guy who knows this girl’s not getting a second date,’ he wished he could say.  Instead, all the snarky remarks stayed locked inside his weary brain, bouncing around like a caged lion desperate to escape.

The girl didn’t make any motions to ditch him to his nerdy reprieve, and instead followed on his heels as he pulled open the bookshop’s door, the familiar, calming scent of new books, fresh paper, and ink filling his nose.

“It smells gross in here,” the girl huffed.

Aaaand there went Law’s fleeting moment of peace.  Out the window.  Down fifteen stories and splattered on the pavement.  He needed to violently restrain the eyeroll that begged to appear.  His ocular nerves ached to be a dick in the pettiest way possible.  He inwardly hoped that by dragging this girl to the most unassuming bookshop would encourage her to leave, call a friend or get a cab to take her back to her home, but alas, she stayed glued to Law’s side like a lost dog.

She followed behind him as he blindly perused shelves of new and pre-owned books, Law’s feet subconsciously guiding him to the back of the store where he knew the comic books would be located.

If anything would turn this girl off for good, it had to be his love for all things superhero.  His comic book collection would dry her up like a dessert in a drought.  Or at least, it fucking better.

His eyes lit up as he approached the expansive comic shelf, immediately spotting the latest print of Sora: Warrior of the Sea- Volume 10.  It had finally been officially localized, and he had been saving some of his spending money for this very moment.  He eagerly grabbed the book from the shelf, thumbing through the pages.

“How old even are you?” jeered the girl by his side.  “Comic books are, like, little kid shit.”

“I’m five years old,” barked Law, refusing to look toward her as he continued to analyze the pages of his favorite series.

To the average onlooker, they both probably looked like complete jackasses towards one another.  And while Law was at least brave enough to admit that his behavior was certainly petty, he felt like he was warranted a Get Out Of Jerk Free card for all the painful hours of suffering through this atomic catastrophe of a date had put him through.

“Whatever, I’m going to find a bathroom,” the girl finally groaned, releasing his arm and trudging through the aisles of books toward the checkout counter to ask an employee where the bathrooms were located.

Law watched her go out of his peripheral vision, refusing to exhale a sigh of profound relief until she was completely out of his line of sight.  With shoulders that finally relaxed, free from the overbearing tension, he turned his focus back to the comic in his hands, continuing to thumb through the colorful pages of artwork.  He flipped the book around to examine the price, smiling at how reasonable it was.  He filled his arms with a few other comics from a series he had been meaning to pick up, and retreated toward the cash registers to buy his books.  The sooner he got his treat for this ordeal, the sooner he could get out of here, call this girl a taxi home, and spend the rest of his life as a willingly single comic book mega-nerd.

But reality wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

Not when the girl sitting behind the register thumbing through another copy of Sora Volume 10 was an absolute bombshell.

When she looked up at Law, her eyes quickly went wide.  She placed the book under the register counter and eagerly leaned forward, her hands supporting her over the counter.  “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.

Law cocked an eyebrow, confused.  “Yeah, why?”

“That girl you’re with is making you miserable.  You walked through the door looking like you wanted someone to grant you a mercy killing,” she huffed.  Her eyes were clearly concerned.  “Are you dating her?”

Law felt his guard dropping without even realizing it the longer he was in the presence of this cashier.  “My friends set me up on a date with her, but I’m having the absolute worst time of my life.”

The new girl’s own eyebrows angled downward in concern.  “Do you want an out?”

“A what?”

“An out,” she repeated.  “An excuse to get her to leave you alone.”  Time was running out.  At any moment, she could leave the bathroom.

Law frantically looked back and forth between the cashier and the small, short hallway that led to the single restroom.  With pleading, golden eyes, he silently mumbled, “Yes, please.”

The cashier kept her eyes on the bathroom door as she began unloading Law’s hands, spreading his books out on the counter to make it look like she was busy ringing out his purchase.  Law watched with an analytical gaze as she fumbled with his items, clearly buying time until the bathroom door opened.

He didn’t have time to ask what she was plotting.

The second the door cracked open, the man’s shirt collar was violently clenched in the cashier’s hands as she pulled him over the counter, smushing her lips into his.  Law’s fingers flexed in thin air as he froze, brain completely fried as he was frozen in this sudden kiss.

His first kiss.

“What the fuck?!” the girl screeched, exiting the bathroom in a frenzy as she booked it toward the heated exchange happening over the cash register.

The new girl pulled herself away from Law’s face, but only enough where she could display her best rendition of a weary, tired war-torn wife waiting on a cliffside for her husband to return.  “Baby, please just take me back!  My life isn’t complete without you!”  Her voice was cracking as she fake-wailed, her grip on Law’s shirt never faltering, not even once.  The few customers who also occupied the store turned to stare at the commotion, frazzled and befuddled.  “Nothing in life is as good as it was with you!  I’m in shambles!  You were the best sex I’ve ever had!”

It took a few moments for Law to catch on to the ruse.  As soon as he put the puzzle pieces together in his mind, however, he was grabbing the wrists of the cashier and bringing his lips back to hers, closing his eyes and trailing his arms up to grasp her face.  Completely disregarding the fact that they were still separated by the heavy check-out counter between their torsos.

“You were dating someone?!” snapped the original girl.  “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Law pulled away from the cashier’s lips, his own skin immediately feeling fifteen degrees colder from the loss of her contact.  “I wasn’t.  Until now.”

The new girl put her arm around Law’s shoulders from across the check-out counter, her deft fingers caressing his skin through his shirt.  “I’m sorry, but I’m taking him back, I can’t stand to be without him any longer!  The sight of him with another woman…” she made a show of clenching her chest, “makes me sick!”  She was damn good at this, in a way that almost made Law concerned.  The fact that she was pulling all of this out of nowhere, and the fact that her first course of action was this drastic, made Law’s heart flutter in his chest.

“Ugh, whatever.  This place sucks ass anyway.  I’m going home.”  She finally shouldered her bag and marched out of the shop, her feet stomping across the hardwood floor until the sound of the front door slamming closed finally made the cashier release her arm from Law’s shoulders.

And once again, the man was feeling oddly cold without the contact.  He glanced at her as she started ringing up his items for real.  “You’re… a good actor,” he blurted.

The girl hid her face in her arm with shame, an awkward laugh bubbling from her throat.  “I’m so sorry, I was trying to think of what to do to help you but when the door opened I panicked.”  Her eyes were focused on her work.  “I’ve been on some absolutely awful dates myself, so I understand.  Sometimes I’ve wished I could have Prince Charming swoop me out of the movie theater where a guy made fun of me for my interests the entire run-time.”

His jaw went slack.  “Are you serious?”

“Deadass,” she replied, quick as a whip.  “Insisted on holding my hand the entire time.  I think he was convinced that I had taken him to see a horror movie because I wanted to act scared in front of him, but his hand was so clammy and sticky the whole time.  And not in the endearing ‘Aww he’s shy!’ kind of way.”

Law wished at that moment that he had more charisma.  He was sure one of his friends would be able to pull a witty, flirty quip from their asses like it was nothing, but Law’s personal dictionary of flattery was nonexistent as it was.  He balked while he listened to the cashier who just took his breath away lamenting about her own poor experiences with dating, and he was sure that her example in this moment was only one of many.  Instead of continuing the conversation, his mind blanked.  He stated, more like whispered, “That was my first kiss.”

The girl’s hands stopped scanning his books halfway through.  Her wide eyes darted up to Law’s, her jaw slack.  “It… It was?”

“Yeah.”

Her hands flew to cover her mouth, eyes wide with shock.  “Oh my god… oh my god, I’m so sorry!”  She dropped her head onto the counter, covering her despair with both of her arms now.  “First kisses are supposed to be special and I just took your’s away from you…”

Law shocked himself by smiling at the weary display in front of him.  “If it makes you feel any better, that was far better than the date I was on.  But I’m sure you already knew that.”

She picked her head up, a trembling hand grabbing one of his last books to scan.  Her eyes nervously darted back and forth as she silently worked, once in a while sucking her bottom lip in with her teeth before releasing the flesh.  She was clearly lost in an intense inner turmoil.

“It’s really alright,” Law muttered, now growing shy himself.  He was just now realizing the gravity of what had happened… and how truly adorable this girl was.

She tapped a few buttons on her cash register before finally making eye contact with him again.  “You are a pretty good kisser… you’re really sure you’ve never done that before?”

He affirmatively shook his head.  “Never.  I’ve never been… popular with the dating scene,” he muttered.  “Hence this awful set-up date.”

The cashier’s eyes went wide again momentarily.  “That’s kind of surprising to me… I would think someone like you would get any girl you wanted.”

Law backpedaled.  “What does that mean?”

She pulled his total up on the small screen that faced him.  She was turning away from him as if to hide her face, her entire expression teeming with a child-like embarrassment.  “Well, you’re crazy hot, for starters.  And you like Sora, clearly.”

Law felt a smirk emerge on his lips.  “Is Sora one of your only qualifiers for a decent partner?”  He began to rekindle some of the confidence he had lost throughout the day.  The longer he spent in this girl’s presence, the more he felt the tension in his body leaving.

She grinned, the stress in her shoulders from her own actions finally releasing.  “Only guys with fluffy black hair and golden eyes that read Sora, if you want my honest answer.”

Now this was flirting.  Law had to admit, he was pretty pleased with this sudden turn of events.  The atmosphere this girl radiated was immensely calming, allowing him to chip through his reinforced walls just enough to feel like a somewhat normal person.  He started to wonder if she could break through his barriers even more.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, taking out his credit card and swiping it through the machine to finally cash out his order.

The girl excitedly revealed her name.  “And your’s?”

“Trafalgar Law,” he replied.  “I go to North Blue University for med school in the next town over.”

“No shit, so do I!  I’m getting a worker's license there,” she added, her expression shifting from one of moderate happiness to one of excitement.  “I doubt we’ve had any of the same classes, but we should hang out sometime!  Get coffee, maybe talk about Sora…”  Her voice trailed off, her eyes growing soft.  “Unless you’ve been completely turned off to dating after what you’ve clearly just been through.”

Law took a few moments to ponder over her words, watching as the receipts for his purchase slowly emerged from the thermal printer.  “I think I can make an exception this time.”

The smile that broke out on the girl’s face may as well have blinded him.  She was truly dazzling, even in her ratty-looking employee apron and an oversized T-shirt accounting for her work attire.

Law placed his new assortment of books into his own bag, the girl snatching his receipts from the printer and stashing one of the copies in the drawer below the counter.  When he looked back up, she was holding out his second receipt, folded in half.  She gave him a fond smile when he took it.

“I hope you’re able to relax later today, and enjoy your books!” she called, waving to Law as he exited the store.

Once outside again, the air felt clearer now that he was alone.  The day was still young, hardly a cloud in the sky and a pleasant breeze coasting through the city.  He looped his bag over his shoulder and opened the receipt, peering at what was written on the backside.

Call me for Sora… and for just me ;) <3 1125-354-9854

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #law x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #law oneshot #request fics

[regressionschool]

Profession: Influencer

Fae was a woman of remarkable beauty. As an influencer with a substantial online following, she reveled in the attention and adoration her posts garnered. With sponsorships from multiple clothing and food brands, Fae's life seemed like a perpetual showcase of luxury and indulgence. She was never one to shy away from flaunting her enviable figure or lavish lifestyle on social media.

However, Fae's charmed existence took an unexpected turn when one of her sponsors, intrigued by the idea of regression, discreetly arranged for her enrollment in a regression school. While many participants were physically taken to the facilities for reeducation, Fae's case was deemed special. She would undergo a digital transformation.

The regression school's team meticulously crafted a plan to regress Fae through her online presence. Subtle yet powerful, their methods involved inundating her social media feed with hypnotic messages and subliminal reprogramming. As Fae scrolled through her Instagram and other platforms, she was unknowingly subjected to a barrage of stimuli designed to reshape her thoughts and behaviors.

At first, Fae's followers didn't notice anything amiss. They continued to engage with her content as usual, liking and commenting on her posts without a second thought. However, those behind the scenes knew that the seeds of regression had been planted, and it was only a matter of time before they began to take root.

After a few weeks Fae snapped a quick photo of herself wearing a soggy diaper, her expression filled with unabashed pride. With a mischievous grin, she typed out the caption, "Joining the proud Pampers pack! Who knew soggy diapers could be so liberating? #DiaperLife #ProudPampersPacker."

Since that first diaper pic, Fae's life and social media presence have undergone a complete transformation. No longer the glamorous influencer showcasing luxury and indulgence, Fae now lies in a nursery, fully regressed and embracing her newfound identity with enthusiasm.

Gone are the days of glamorous photo shoots and lavish vacations. Instead, Fae's posts now feature scenes from her nursery life, where she crawls on her knees with her soggy diaper proudly on display. In one such post, Fae's annoyance is palpable as she recounts her caregiver's attempt to change her diaper. "Ugh, my caregiver wanted to change my diaper again," she writes, her frustration evident. "But I love them nice and wet, that way they feel the best between my legs! 😋 #SoggyDiaperLove #DiaperLife"

As Fae's followers scroll through her feed, they are greeted by a steady stream of diaper-centric content. From photos of her adorned in cute onesies to videos of her gleefully playing with toys, every post serves as a testament to her newfound identity as a regressed adult.

In one post, Fae shares a series of photos showcasing her diaper collection, each one carefully arranged and proudly displayed. "Diaper haul time! 💖 These are my absolute favorites," she gushes, her excitement palpable. "Who knew diapers could be so adorable and comfy? 😊 #DiaperObsessed #AdultBabyLife“

In the nursery, Fae's days are filled with simple pleasures and childlike wonder. She spends her time playing with toys, cuddling with stuffed animals, and filling her diapers.

[lynetianya]

Love Broadcast [ Ryujin X Reader ]

When Y/N unexpectedly appears during Ryujin's live Instagram session and kisses her, their well-guarded secret is exposed.

GENRE : Fluff

TYPE : One Shot

Ryujin's heart fluttered with excitement as she settled into her cozy corner of the studio, ready to connect with her loyal fans. Her phone was propped up, Instagram's live broadcast ready to bring her face to thousands of screens around the world. The anticipation was palpable.

"Hey, MIDZY!" Ryujin greeted with her signature grin as the live stream began. "It's been a minute since we last hung out like this. I've missed you all!"

The chat exploded with love and greetings, fans from all corners of the globe pouring their hearts out to her. Ryujin couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude for their unwavering support.

As the Q&A session commenced, Ryujin answered questions about her music, her life as an idol, and the bond she shared with her fellow ITZY members. The questions kept coming, and Ryujin was more than happy to oblige, eager to share her thoughts and experiences.

Meanwhile, you had quietly entered the room looking for something. You timing, however, couldn't have been worse. After you get what you looking for. Completely unaware that Ryujin was in the middle of a live stream, you moved closer to her and gently planted a kiss on Ryujin's forehead, followed by a sweet peck on her cheek.

"Love you Ryu~" you whispered, you voice filled with affection before you quietly slipped out of the room.

Ryujin was taken aback, her cheeks flushed, and her heart racing from the unexpected display of love. The chat was now exploding with comments, fans frantically typing away, expressing their surprise and delight at the intimate moment they had just witnessed.

"Who was that cutie that kissed you?" one fan queried.

"OMG! Spill the tea, sis!" another chimed in.

Ryujin blinked in disbelief but knew she couldn't lie to her fans, who meant the world to her. "That was my lover" she confessed, her voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and pride.

The chat erupted once more, this time with messages of support and excitement. Ryujin had kept her relationship with you a secret from the world, but now it was time to make it official. She took a deep breath and decided to share the news. "Actually, Y/N and I have been together for a while now, and I couldn't be happier!"

The chat went wild with celebration, and Ryujin found herself inundated with questions about her relationship with Y/N. She smiled as she began to answer them one by one, taking her fans on a journey through their love story.

Hours passed, and the live stream drew to a close. Ryujin thanked her fans for their unwavering support and promised to share more about her relationship with Y/N in the future. She signed off with a heartfelt message of love and gratitude, feeling closer to her fans than ever before.

As she closed her phone, Ryujin couldn't help but smile. She had shared an intimate moment with her fans, and their acceptance of her love filled her with warmth. The world now knew about her relationship with you, and she was excited to embark on this new chapter of their love story, hand in hand with the person who had stolen her heart.

END

My Masterlist

#ryujin x reader #ryujin x you #ryujin fluff #ryujin fanfic #itzy fluff #itzy fanfic #ryujin #ryujin itzy #ryujin imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop imagines

[doomsdaydicecascader]

please elaborate on your homestuck is like into the woods take because i read those tags and it blew my brain wide open i need to know more but like you are so right what if what you thought you wanted made you miserable and the story should have ended but it kept going and everyones dying horribly wow parallel of feeding the narrator to the giant and hussie being killed by and also part of lord english cant wait for homestuck to make it to broadway

so there's a sideways video that i'm kind of at risk of just repeating word for word from here, he explains it in a way i would just kind of idly repeat when describing the musical construction here

so here's that: the musical moral of into the woods

and you're correct about the "what if what you thought you wanted made you miserable" and "the story should have ended but it kept going" and "kill the narrator" but it's also in its judicious establishment of shorthands. in into the woods, this is in its musical expressions - "i want to go to the festival", "there are giants in the sky", etc etc. each character and each narrative arc is given a leitmotif that keeps the audience on track even with a billion characters running around. and ultimately, the expression of the theme is in relation to these little leitmotifs. these shorthands are deployed to great effect in homestuck too.

vriska is a blueblood whose relationship to breaking eight balls causes her to have snowballing bad luck, something compounded by her complex cycle of revenge, started off by the author figure for her narrative, doc scratch, which is something she overcomes with her ascension to god-tier and then defeat of english in act 7. but when it comes to breaking those eight balls, addiction is a powerful thing.

equius is a blueblood whose relationship to breaking bows reflects his unbendable adherence to rules, an arc that ultimately ends with his submission to the power structures of the world he grew up in, asphyxiated by the broken bow by a highblood he could have summarily defeated if he could have simply just, bent the rules. but addiction is a powerful thing.

jane is a rich girl (blue-blooded, natch) whose relationship to her brands is obviously toxic for herself and her friends - in her introductory pages she's inundated with subliminal messaging, groomed into being the perfect heiress by her imperious condescension, who is actively using the crockercorp brand as the means to reach out to jane. and wouldn't you know it, brand loyalty is a powerful thing.

and since vriska and equius have opposing relationships to this idea - vriska overcomes it, equius doesn't - it creates ambiguity as to how jane is going to relate to it, but there's no question as to whether it's gesturing at the same ideas. and evidently, she doesn't overcome it, at least in the homestuck epilogues, but it is a pattern, it's a beat hit intentionally.

it's this construction of homestuck as a reiteration on itself, repeating itself in new ways that express the story being told that makes it *really really* comparable to into the woods imo, just as much as any of the things you mentioned. also, this is just a bit more shallow, but one of the ways homestuck is divided on the map page is into "sides", side A before they break the fourth wall and side B after, and it just as easily reflects acts 1 and 2 of into the woods, splitting into this "narrative done right", and the ramifications thereof. pretty fun to think about

[miss-grimwood]

Pansies - Bellamione

When Hermione was announced as the new Minister for Magic, she was inundated with flowers. Special deliveries, sent by the finest owls.

Bellatrix, however, found that far too impersonal.

She rang the doorbell of Hermione’s flat, a lavish bouquet of roses, complete with a pink carnation tucked away, in hopes Hermione would understand the message.

When Hermione answered, she held a bouquet of pansies, and Bellatrix knew just who they were from.

She mumbled an oh, before handing Hermione her flowers with a rushed congratulations and darting away.

Not thirty minutes later, she received a letter.

Bellatrix,

Thank you for the flowers, especially the carnation. Yours, Hermione.

She’d doodled a carnation on the parchment, and Bellatrix was confused. She seemed to know the meaning, but why would she return it. She had someone else.

The letter went unanswered, along with several others. Really, Bellatrix wondered just how taxing a job being Minister was, by the constant letters.

Eventually, Hermione gave up on letters, and simply turned up at her door.

‘I’ve been reading up on flower language.’ She began, by way of introduction. ‘And I don’t know what you were trying to tell me with that carnation. I thought you loved me, but clearly not, but there’s no other meaning in any book. I’m sorry to just turn up when clearly you don’t want to speak to me, but I just need an answer. It’s been bothering me for weeks.’

Bellatrix blinked in surprise. ‘I-’

Hermione let herself in to the house.

‘But - Pansy?’

‘Pansy? What does she have to do with this?’

‘She sent you flowers.’

‘So did half of the community. My flat looked like a florists.’

‘I thought maybe…’ Bellatrix shook her head.

‘You thought that the only reason someone would bring me flowers is if they loved me? Christ, Black, you’re dense.’ Hermione laughed.

‘You’re the only witch mad enough to fancy me. And to be clear, it’s reciprocated. I thought the drawing would tell you that, but apparently not.’

@sapphicmicrofics

#bellatrix lestrange #hermione granger #bellamione #fluff #a little angst #bellatrix is a drama queen #<500 words #microfic

[lulubelle814]

Regards, Loki - Chapter 38

Master List

After being inundated with dozens of texts from her small group of friends, Louisa met up with them that following morning.  

From the very second she stepped into the cafe, they pulled her to a table near the counter and started pelting her with so many questions that she couldn't tell who asked what. 

“What was he like? “

“Was he handsome?“

“Is he a good dancer?”

“Did you kiss?”

“What was he wearing?”

“What did he do when he saw you?”

She waved her hands to cut them off.  “Holy crap guys. Give me a second to breathe.”  Brad got up and made her a cup of hot chocolate with homemade whipped cream and placed it on the table in front of her. 

“Now spill,” He said.  “We need details, lady!”

She spent the next 20 minutes telling them bits and pieces: what the event looked like, all the movie props set up, the music, the dancing, and (yes)  the kissing.  “It was like being in a fairy tale.*

All three had dreamy looks on their faces, trying to imagine it. Cora realized something.  “Did you not take pictures?  Please tell me you took at least one or two pictures!”

“I got one picture.” She pulled out her phone and showed them a selfie of her with the Ludo prop. 

While they were happy to see ‘a’ picture, it's not what they were anticipating. She shrugged. “It was really hard to not just get lost in it, but I did.*

She then told them what happened when she made it into the ballroom. “When I spotted him, he was on the other side of the room, and of course I got over there as fast as I could.*  everyone nodded, eager to hear more. 

“When I got there, I couldn't find him. I turned around, and there he was, right where I'd just been. He made his way across, cutting across the dance floor. It's like there was something just pulling us together.”

Chad and Cora gasped. “Like a fairytale,” Brad chimed in. 

Louisa continued. ‘He just held out his hand. I placed mine in his, and he took me out to the floor where we danced for I don't know how long until ....”

Her story was interrupted by the chime of someone coming in the front door.  Chad got up to help them, instructing the group not to say anything without him and then returned to the table once he finished ringing up their customer so that Louisa could continue her story.

“I don’t mean to interrupt……..okay, well I do, but if this guy ends up being some sort of scam artist or a jerk, I’m gonna kick his ass.”  Brad and Cora agreed.  No one was opposed to kicking the crap out of someone who messed with their Louisa.  She’d already been through more than enough.  She doesn’t deserve to get hurt again.

Chad winked. “There’s always hall pass.  But I get…….”

“Eye candy privilege.  Yes, I know.”  Everyone laughed.  “Deal.”  Louisa knew it wouldn’t come to that, though.  She was entirely smitten with her Lok……James.  ‘I gotta remember he actually has a name,’ she thought to herself.

Cora snatched her phone and started looking at the messages, hoping to get the name of this mystery man only to find he was still listed as Loki in her contacts.  “Does this guy have a name?  If his real name is Loki, I’m gonna laugh, but I have a feeling that’s not actually his name.”

“James,” Louisa replied.

Everyone oooooo’d and ahhhh’d.  “That’s a nice, solid name.  What does he look like?  Because you failed epically at taking any pictures so we could judge him.”

A smile spread across her face just thinking about that.  “He’s definitely tall.  At least 6’2”, maybe a little taller,  Dirty blond hair.  You can’t see it just looking at him, but he’s strong.  I could feel the muscles in his arms.  He’s gotta work out or something.  And his hands?  There’s some calluses.  He does some work with his hands, but they’re warm.”

It’s obvious that she’s, at minimum, twitterpated over this man.  Everyone let out a wistful sigh until an abrupt, very loud shriek came out of Chad causing everyone in the cafe to wince and cover their ears.

“What?  What the hell caused you to make that ungodly sound?”  Cora rubbed her ears, chad’s shrieking causing them to ring.

He responded in a stage whisper.  “It’s him!”

“Him who?”

“IT’S HALL PASS!” 

Since their backs were turned to the door, Cora and Louisa started to turn around to see who it was before Chad told them not to look.  He didn’t want it to be obvious.  Rather than let Brad take his turn, Chad scrambled to the counter as hall pass entered.  By the time he got up to the counter to order, Chad already had his usual ready.  Hall pass picked it up and turned around.  Spotting Louisa, he smiled and walked over to her quickly with his long legs.  When he reached her table, he bent over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.  “Good morning, darling.”

Chad shrieked again, watching his hall pass make a pass at Louisa. So he marched over there to tell him off.  How dare he just go up to someone, especially Louisa, and force affection?  Before he could say anything, Louisa gestured to the empty seat next to her.  

“Everyone, this is James.  James, this is……well, everyone.”  She pointed to each person, giving both their real names as well as the names she used in their texted  messaging.  Chad shrieked again.  “Chad!  You have to stop making that ungodly sound.  Use your words!”

Chad stage whispered, pointing at James.  “Hall pass.”  Her eyes went wide, looking over to James before laughing.  James looked between her and Chad, very confused.

“Apparently, you’re Chad’s hall pass,” she told him and explained what that meant.  Once he understood, he laughed as well.  “I’m sorry Chad, but I’m completely taken by this woman right here.”

Chad looked back to Louisa.  “You’d better keep up your end of the bargain.”  Everyone else was confused except for Louisa who laughed yet again.  She had to explain this to James.  “Chad told me that if Loki ended up being a complete ass that he would set me up with his hall pass as long as he got ogling privileges.”  James laughed.  

Cora pointed a stern finger at James.  “Just so you know.  If you hurt her, we’ll make you disappear.”

“Duly noted. I wouldn't expect anything less.”  In fact, James was glad to hear it.  It was a testament to the strong friendship between them.

Louisa tugs his sleeve.  “Do you have some pictures from last night? This lot were kinda mad that I didn't really take any.”

He pulled out his phone. The board received a link to pictures taken by the photographers hired for the event.  Clicking on the link, he handed the phone to her friends to browse through them. 

There were a large number of pictures, but at one point, there were quite a few pictures featuring him and Louisa. Granted, James hadn't looked at them yet. So he was just as surprised to see so many where he and Louisa became the subject of one of the photographers. These pictures made it evident how much these two were smitten with each other from the moment they finally laid eyes on each other.

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss @jaidenhawke

#tom hiddleston #twh #tomhiddleston #twhiddleston #damn hiddleston #hiddlestoners #thomas william hiddleston #hiddleston #hiddles #loki #sigyn #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelson #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x you #james conrad #james conrad AU #james conrad x original female character #james conrad x reader #james conrad x ofc #james conrad x you #regards loki #lulubelle814

[chronal-anomaly]

Today is Lena's birthday ( and also the first day of Pride, so happy Pride!! ). Lena doesn't like her birthday per se, mostly because it serves as a reminder that she's not aging, that she'll never be able to grow old and grey like her friends and family will. As such, she doesn't talk about it, and spends most of the day trying to keep her hands busy.

However.

It is on her wikipedia page, so it's very common knowledge. Prefall, she's absolutely inundated with tweets, messages and other well wishes. This is a similar case as during Recall, because Tracer herself carries a lot of fortune with the general public still. Lena will often forget herself in the messages, and allow herself to actually enjoy the well wishes.

She doesn't enjoy big parties, because it just reinforces the thoughts I outlined above, but she'll definitely go out for drinks, play board games, or just hang out with her family and friends. So long as it doesn't feel like there's a big deal being made about it, she's happy to participate and be around those she loves.

#( headcanon. ) #Yeah this is a lil disjointed but that's okay #gifts are 50/50

[polzkadotz]

wip wednesday — fem andreil Pining™ for keira (kevin) day au

do I have many, many wips at the moment? yes. But I literally spent a whole day thinking about boobs (a great day) and I wrote, on a whim, 4.6k of smut. The following day, I found plot for the smut, so now I have 5 wips instead of 4, yay? lmao

Enjoy!

PS: I have not decided on a name for fem andreil, hence the brackets. I'm just waiting for some childhood crush to blindside me like Keira (Knightley) did. It will happen at some point, I'm sure.

[Andrew] couldn't say that she expected to see [Neil] in lacy fucking orange lingerie lounging on her bed when she opened the door to their room, but that was what she got on the following day. 

Apparently, [Neil] had clearly decided that an open sudden attack (possibly? heart attack???) was the best offence move when dealing with your own lusting for Keira Day. 

Who was right behind [Andrew]. And who looked mildly baffled when [Andrew] froze at the open door.

[Neil] only smirked at her while [Andrew] closed the door again and put a hand up to stop Keira when she opened her mouth. 

“Scram,” [Andrew] told her. 

“What?” 

“Go away, find somewhere else to be, get lost, skedaddle, get out of my presence,” [Andrew] fired rapidly, and Keira still only blinked back, baffled. “Scram.”

“Why?!” Keira demanded, slightly whiny. [Andrew] wanted to pinch her to make her move quicker, that knee-jerk reaction to be fucking mean, as mean as Keira was every fucking day she didn't make a move of them and only watched, hungry eyes glued on [Andrew] and [Neil] like the pervert she was, but she controlled herself. 

She was about to twist in and poke pretty deeply at one of Keira's hidden desires. Physical punishment wouldn't be necessary. 

[Andrew] stepped aside. “Go in and see what she looks like. Then tell me if you're gonna stay.”

[Andrew] saw the moment Keira understood she was being sexiled, caught the brief challenge that flashed in her eyes and was half-convinced Keira would actually do it, would open the door and join them (Finally, [Andrew] could hear [Neil] say in the back of her mind), but then.

Keira's slack hands turned into fists.

Her jaw tightened, sharper than knives, all that violent potential turned inwards. A flash of pain in her eyes that spoke of how an ocean of blood was currently inundating Keira, suffocating her. 

“Send me a message when…” she trailed off, avoiding [Andrew]'s gaze. 

Left.

I'm planning on posting it in time for kinktober because there will be Kink (so much kink aaaa), and currently I'm predicting it will be around 20k, but You Know Me, it will probably be 30k lmao

(reblogs fuel me to write faster btw ❤️)

#wip wednesday #my writing #aftg #all for the game #andreil #kandreil #fem andreil #GIRLS ARE SO HOT THEY CURED MY WRITER'S BLOCK 🥵🥴 #literally let myself plan as much smut as I wanted to and that convinced me to work on the tag wrangling au in the name of fairness too #planned FOUR CHAPTERS of the tag wrangling au. yeehaw #this is going up at 11:21 pm on Tuesday in my timezone but I DONT CARE ITS MY QUEUE IT WAS THE BEST I COULD DO

[septembersghost]

as someone annoyed and repulsed by That Man and upset with this whole situation, the discussion around taylor herself has gotten out of control. not only people calling her terrible names again and accusing her of being an innately reprehensible person, but i've seen people dragging up comments she made years ago about not being a feminist, and it's angering because they're going, "she was like this all along, it was always fake!" we can criticize her white feminism, that's a whole other issue, but i think people don't understand that we millennials were bombarded with toxic messaging growing up in regards to purity culture, diet culture, etc, and an aspect of that was people treating "feminist" like a dirty word, or as, "it means you hate men!" which of course isn't true. it took a lot of young women years to unpack and work through all that, many still are. so taylor not understanding its meaning and shying away from it early on (especially while she was in country music and being inundated by conservative business models and being marketed as a "good" "wholesome" girl), then learning more, growing, and identifying with it is a good thing! we should celebrate that even when it's VERY imperfect.

i just feel like people are working now to tear her down for anything they can in bad faith rather than criticizing the actual issue at hand. (same for people grossly misusing terms like wh*te supremac*st/n*zi. he's a bigot and a scumbag, but those terms are heavy and have important definitions, and erroneously calling him that for the shock value completely distracts and dilutes their meaning and makes any argument look overreactive. we can call out racism and sexism without misusing terms).

do they not realize that labeling her a fake feminist slut b*tch narcissist is simply...furthering misogyny here? do they not understand that vilifying her to this much of an extreme distorts the conversation and is actively silencing people who are hurt or concerned for more fair/legitimate reasons? it's exhausting and i hate seeing it and it breaks my heart that we're here.

shaming and condemning someone for learning and trying to progress over time doesn't accomplish anything. what do we do if we never let people grow? isn't that the goal? none of this is intended to excuse or condone anything currently going on, but using this as a "told you so" is wildly unhelpful. the moment we misrepresent facts or strip someone's humanity altogether is when we lose any ground in a conversation.

#sorry for this i just needed to get it out of my head after seeing a video holding decades' old comments against her #thrown out speeches

[the-real-psycho-queen]

3:03 am. Violet murmured to herself, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. Night after night, she found herself unable to sleep, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts and regrets. Amidst the chaos, she strangely found a perverse pride in her worst decisions. How did it come to this? Am I losing my sanity? No, maybe... just maybe, I'm unbelievably brilliant.

Glancing at the clock, it read 4:32 am. With a sigh, she reached for a cigarette, aware that rest would elude her once again. Her mind relentlessly raced, inundating her with questions and anxieties, occasionally interrupted by fleeting fantasies that offered temporary respite, only to plunge her back into despair.

At 5:17 am, Violet began to drift into sleep, plagued by the unsettling realization that she had a mere two hours and forty-three minutes before waking up. Clutching her pillow tightly, she struggled in vain to clear her mind. Why do I subject myself to this? Sometimes, I wonder if I deliberately sabotage my own peace... Drama seems to be my ally. Then again, perhaps my mind possesses a will of its own, harboring resentment toward me. Do I despise myself? No. Yes. No. Who truly knows? Maybe even I fail to comprehend my own self... It was 6:48 am when she finally succumbed to slumber, yet her dreams were overrun by the same ruminations that haunted her wakeful hours. Trivial questions and fleeting ideas held her captive throughout the night, and strangely, she didn't despise her sleeplessness as much as she claimed. Exhaustion provided solace a tangible sensation instead of numbing emptiness.

Half-awake, Violet reached for her phone, praying she hadn't overslept again. The time displayed was 8:18 am. She released a sigh of relief mingled with disappointment. I still have a few minutes. No, if I don't rise now, I'll fall back asleep. But maybe I could rest a little longer. What am I saying? Just get up, Violet! Damn it! Why do I always complicate things? Open your eyes and get out of bed, Violet. By the time she managed to rise, it was already 1:08 pm. Panicked, she hurried through her routine, hoping her morning absence had gone unnoticed. As she dashed out of her apartment, she glanced at her phone, flooded with missed messages from earlier. Violet rolled her eyes, cranked up her music to drown out the world, and pondered a better excuse than simply "oversleeping."

Her head spun, her body aching for respite, but time was a luxury she couldn't afford. Immersed in the melodies that filled her mind, she succumbed to their seductive embrace. Creating intricate characters, each with profound personalities, they felt almost real, as if she held their entire lives and emotions in her hands. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though she observed their existence in a world where she herself didn't belong, a world meticulously crafted with fragments of her essence scattered among each character. Hours would slip away as she indulged in daydreams of this new universe. Yet, as vivid as they were, she would inevitably snap back to reality, realizing that it was all a fabrication. She couldn't divide herself; perhaps she already had without realizing it. After everything she had experienced, it wasn't far-fetched to imagine that she created this imaginary realm as a means to avoid confronting her own life. It was easier to witness someone else endure the pain she couldn't allow herself to feel, someone stronger. But that wasn't reality. Each time her daydreams faded, a profound sadness enveloped her, and she would sigh disappointedly, searching for a new song, a new fantasy, another escape from her own existence. Countless scenarios played out in her mind, none of which featured her as her true self, but rather who she longed to be—each more unrealistic than the last, yet painfully vivid enough to bring tears to her eyes over tragedies she herself had fabricated. It was as if her mind possessed the power to transport her to different dimensions, with music serving as the gateway to each scene.

Lost in thought, she arrived at her destination before she even realized it. *Sigh* I wonder, if I could reside within my own mind, would I descend into madness? Am I already on the brink of insanity? No. Yes. No. Madness and brilliance are closer than we think, but how can I distinguish between the two? My mind sabotages my life, yet it also infuses it with meaning. I feel nothing... but I do feel the music.

#novel #amature writer #mental illness #insomia #fantasy #day dreaming #biography

[forensicated]

Smiffina Episodes - Episode 143

We pick up from last episode with the bomb planted at the cinema and the first lot of uniform arriving with Gina to sweep the cinema. Gina's trying to sort evacuation of approx 100 plus people in the targeted screening. The manager is dumbfounded - they've been treating it as a hoax. Surely better to act like it's real and be wrong than the alternative? In the staff not acting, the people inside screen 3 are starting to get messages after the bomb warning is announced by the radio station who received the threat and they start to evacuate. The police try and assist it, however a little girl gets injured in the crush.

I'm amazed that they're only evacuating one screen and y'know - not the entire bloody building! Are only the people in that one screen getting the messages/calls about it? If you heard that there's a potential bomb in a building you were in, would you stick around? After all, how do you know how big/small it is? Why are they thinking it will only take out the one screen potentially? Also this is series 19 which aired August 2003. Yes it's 2 years prior to the 7/7 bombing in London but it is almost 2 years from 9/11. And in 2001 there'd been 5 terrorist bombs centered around London planted by The Real IRA.

CAD is inundated with calls. Smithy asks CSU to act as the call divert to reassure and to gather intelligence. Cathy agrees with a rather breathy and I imagine in her mind seductive "we're all yours" but given what we know about Cathy now - it's much more creepy.

Gina requests Smithy organise back up to her at the cinema. When the room is free, Gina asks Reg and Gabriel with Mickey and cinema staff to search it but not to touch any device if they find one. A male member of staff spots what looks like a bomb gaffertaped to one of the chairs. As they move slowly and carefully to alert Gina, the device explodes, sending everyone hitting the ground, injuring Mickey's shoulder initially and the male staff member and rendering Honey unconcious. As if she's not hurt enough, Gabriel has to perform CPR on her.

Gina updates the station and she and Smithy notify the relevant groups and divert more back up. FINALLY they start to evacuate the full building. Gina spots a woman smoking outsides and asks her to blow her smoke in her direction 😂 before she speaks to the press about the bombing and asks people to call in if they have any info.

"Puff it this way, darlin'!"

Gary, hopelessly in love with Honey, is worried about her and is angry that he's not getting more information about her and that Gina has asked Ruby not to update unless there's new information. Loose lips and all that - he ends up telling Gabriel about what he did for Gina after the little car accident a few episodes back, arming Gabriel with blackmail material right as he needs it, before he gets dispatched to an assault case.

The assault case leads him to St Hughes and Ruby where he can manipulate and intimidate her even more as she waits for Honey to come round. As they do, it becomes clear that the male member of staff is actually the bomber... and as they find him, he's sat at the side of Honey's bed with another bomb inside his bag. All because noone realises 'what he's worth' because he has 'more to offer than being an usher'. He wanted the police calling to the cinema so he could learn from them first hand because he's adamant he can be a police officer - but he was rejected.

After he and Ruby talk the bomber down and arrest him, Gina is very impressed and asks Ruby to reconsider her resignation, ripping the letter up without even reading it. (The second of Gabriel's infamously millions chances after Ruby reluctantly covered for him after he set one of her school friends up) . Gabriel sees this through the window and thinks he's gotten away scott free - however Ruby can't live with herself and she confesses to Gina that she lied on the stand. She knows she's committed perjury and that it means the end for her career... but she can't cover up any longer. After seeing Ruby out, Gina is desperate for a smoke and luckily finds one of her old cigarillo ends in an ashtray in her office, sneakily lighting it. After she's finished she goes to find Gabriel, seeing through all his bluster and telling him she knows exactly what he did.

Although it's not spoken, unfortunately for Gina, he knows exactly what Smithy got Gary to do without Gina's knowledge. She already told Gary she was keeping quiet for his and Smithy's sakes which gives Gabriel the perfect leverage to stop her making Ruby's confession public and reporting him... She does become aware that Gabriel knows next episode however. He applys for a driving course at Hendon and tells her he has a clean license including no drink driving convictions and she puts two and two together and nails Gary.

#Smiffina #Gina Gold #Dale Smith #Smithy #Alex Walkinshaw #Roberta Taylor #Nicola Alexis #Ruby Buxton #Todd Carty #Gabriel Kent #Episode 143 #The Bill #Smiffinalong #Gary Best #Ciaran Griffiths #Reg Hollis #Jeff Stewart #Honey Harman #Kim Tiddy #Lisa Riley #Chris Simmons #Mickey Webb

[mediaevalmusereads]

Prize for the Fire. By Rilla Askew. University of Oklahoma Press, 2022.

Rating: 3/5 stars

Genre: historical fiction

Part of a Series? No

Summary: Lincolnshire, 1537. Amid England’s religious turmoil, fifteen-year-old Anne Askew is forced to take her dead sister’s place in an arranged marriage. The witty, well-educated gentleman’s daughter is determined to free herself from her abusive husband, harsh in-laws, and the cruel strictures of her married life. But this is the England of Henry VIII, where religion and politics are dangerously entangled. A young woman of Anne’s fierce independence, Reformist faith, uncanny command of plainspoken scripture, and—not least—connections to Queen Katheryn Parr’s court cannot long escape official notice, or censure.

***Full review below.***

Content Warnings: sexual assault, abuse, miscarriage, death of a child, disease, blood, torture

Overview: To be very blunt, I picked up this book because a friend asked me to. Tudor England is a little outside my area of expertise, but because my friend knows the author and we generally like to discuss books by and about historical women together, I agreed and gave it a go. Overall, I didn't find this book to be bad by any standards; the prose flows nicely, and I appreciated the subject matter, especially since we are inundated with stories about Henry VIII and his wives. My middling rating is thus reflective of my personal tastes and my desire to have seen this story told a little differently, preferably with more focus on what exactly made our protagonist, Anne Askew, so interesting and powerful.

Writing: Askew (the author) writes with a prose style that flows very well while also being very evocative. I found that I could get through this book fairly quickly, even though the prose wasn't the pulpy style of some of the pop fiction I've read (not knocking that prose style at all - just describing). I also think the author balanced telling and showing well, and the shifts between first and third person were handled deftly, without producing a jarring effect.

Plot: The plot of this book details the life of Anne Askew from the time of her marriage to her death in 16th century England. Historically, Anne was notable for a number of things: for being a highly educated woman, for her plain-speaking interpretations of the Bible, for being possibly the first woman to seek a divorce in England, for being the first known woman to compose poetry in English, and for being one of the only women to be tortured in the Tower of London. All of this means she's a good candidate for a story to be written about her, and I'm glad the author chose her to be the subject of her work. A lot of authors seem to focus on Henry VIII and the split from the Catholic Church, so for Askew (the author) to choose Anne, who wasn't directly attached to the court per se, was refreshing. I further liked that the court was on the periphery, with the king being a looming figure but not one who takes up space. This made the book feel like it was about "real" people, but also, it made room for more female characters to occupy the spotlight.

That being said, I think the author could have told Anne's story with a bit more focus. As it stands, I think Askew (the author) wasn't quite sure if she wanted Anne's story to be about sexism, religion, or some combination of the two, and as a result, it kind of felt like it was about neither of those things. Let me elaborate.

The first 200 or so pages focus on Anne's unhappy marriage to Thomas Kyne, a Catholic. While all well and good, these pages are full of physical and sexual abuse, and Anne has very few people who are sympathetic to her. During this time, Anne is somewhat religious, but faith doesn't seem to be the root of the marital problems, and neither does it seem to function as a comfort in times of distress. As a result, it didn't feel like Anne was being driven to evolve into her more religious personna, nor was there a strong message about patriarchy in law or something - it just felt like we were watching Anne be miserable to make her more sympathetic as the narrative went on.

Later in the book, Anne gets into trouble for "heretical" treachings, and while I liked that Askew (the author) made Anne zealous without being too insufferable, the way the plot evolved felt a little unfocused. Anne moves among religious revolutionaries but also among the queen's inner circle and "common" folk with ease, so when she is ultimately arrested, I didn't quite know the motivation. The author also seemed to want to have it all, too: Anne is arrested for her heretical theology, but we are also told the "real" reqson was to ensnare the queen. There's also an element of sexist backlash, and so, with all of these justifications floating around, I felt like the arc of Anne's story was spread a little too thin. It felt like there was no cumulation of events, and to make that even more apparent, fairly important players are relegated to the background; we never meet Gardiner or Cranmer, two people who are suppisedly at the center of this mass of arrests, and Anne's business with the queen is brief. We never see antagonists plotting to take down the heretics or rumblings of dissatisfaction with the queen, and so, I often felt like key events happened "off page," which made Anne's arrest and interrogation feel somewhat random and incidental, not purposeful.

To sum up, I think I could have appreciated this book more if work had been done to show what the "message" of Anne's story was. Perhaps this is just an error in how I read the book, but I didn't quite feel like Anne was a martyr for a cause (at least, not one that the reader is invited to sympathize with). Her story is kind of about endurance, but it seems like it's less about endurance under patriarchy and more about Protestant righteousness? Maybe it's about class and education and accessibility, but the debate about transubstantiation kind of occluded that? I don't really know.

To give Askew (the author) the benefit of the doubt, part of the problem might be that I think it's really hard to make religious figures likeable. It's also really hard to make theology accessible and a cornerstone of a compelling narrative. For these reasons, I don't exactly blame the author; she did what she could.

Characters: Anne, our protagonist, is sympathetic, but in my opinion, she's kind of hard to root for as her only "cause" seems to be Protestant righteousness. I definitely felt sorry for her when she was enduring her husband's abuse, and I was angered when her family seemed uninterested in doing anything to help her. However, Anne could be a bit frustrating because of her stubbornness. At times, it was admirable, but when it got other people in trouble, it felt rather self-centered. As a result, I went through periods when I really liked Anne and periods where I didn't much care for her.

Supporting characters seem to fall into two camps: those that adored Anne and those who opposed her. Anne's maid, Beatrice, and her friend John Lascelles are two that adore her. Beatrice, for her part, is incredibly loyal and puts up with a lot of abuse all to keep her mistress safe. Sometimes, I would be angry on Beatrice's behalf for all that she was made to endure, but she was so devoted and motivated by goodness that it was hard to dislike her. Lascelles, on the other hand, was just ok. He was loyal in his way, but I wouldn't call him an interesting character.

Anne's antagonists were... not really present, save for her husband, Kyme. Kyme was irritating in that he was merely a sexist, abusive piece of shit, and I was even more frustrated by him because everyone seemed to be on his side. While I understand that Tudor England wasn't a feminist utopia, the fact that no one seemed to care that Anne was beaten (or, at least, her well being was no one's priority) was unsettling.

Other antagonists didn't quite feel like full characters because they weren't really present. They show up at Anne's arrest, but before that, they kind of lurk in the background. We don't see them scheming or see the tangible threats to their power, so their motivations mostly seem to be that they hate women.

TL;DR Prize for the Fire is an ambitious novel that seeks to tell the story of a forgotten woman from Tudor history. While there are some things I wish the author had done differently, I appreciate that the focus was not on the royals of the time period, and I think more stories should be told about historical figures that challenged the burns of both the past and our present day.

[herscratchedscribbles]

Night Out

Somehow, it always ended up like this; she was rolling over onto her side, eyes adjusting to the light that was shining through the apartment’s too small window.  She reached, no – searched, for her phone, with her manicured claws attempting to piece together the events from the night before, it was a blur.  As she scrolled through text messages, the barrage of snaps, and tagged posts, she began to recall the details…

She’d perched herself on a seat at the bar, front and center, but away from the commotion of the other restaurant goers, people that were not in fact from this neighborhood, and were not her people.  She was constantly inundated with everyone else’s needs, that she often found herself seeking out more intimate encounters.  She had a few of her usual suspects that would engage in the debauchery she undoubtedly craved for company -- or support, she wasn’t sure.  Honestly, she was confident that the feeling was mutual, they each were looking for something, and often times they would find more than they had intended to. 

She enjoyed what she deemed “the slip.”  That’s what it looked like, the overly organized, put together, workaholic, self proclaimed girl boss, to, well.. this.  She loved sliding her frame into the tight and cropped leather outfit, with the sky-high platform boots, and the only stich of makeup on her being her overdone winged liner, a stark comparison from the jeans and converse she usually styled.  She crossed her legs and ran her finger across the rim of her tumbler, loaded with bitter booze, enough to take the edge off the day.  She could feel the stress melting, her muscles relaxing, and with that, her inhibitions.

They laughed together, as women do, talking for hours, all the while fueling their night with pour after pour from their local bartender; he always delivered their shots with subtle flirting, placing a hand on their backs, and seasoning them with compliments.  She chuckled to herself as she thought, “this may be the reason we park ourselves in these exact spots every time.”  They had been there for a few hours, clumsily extracting themselves from the chairs, they made their way through the doorway, out into the crisp but bitingly cold air. They huddled together, their group had become larger, as they often picked up the regulars along the way.  But as always, she found herself breaking away into smaller pairings, leaning against the concrete wall behind her, one boot propped her up for support.

She lit her own joint and her eyes caught his, she watched as he, almost instinctively reached out to shield her light from the wind.  His lips turned up into a smile looking at her as she took a long drag from the joint, inquisitively examining him, and his intentions.  She passed it to her friend as she exhaled.  In that moment, he stepped into her cloud of sweet-smelling smoke, his hand just grazing hers as he did it.  He was beside her now.  That was enough to make her electric.  What she had thought was anxiety, she could properly mark now, it was pleasure, thrill, excitement, and maybe if she was honest, it was danger.

#genre #love #storytelling #alcohol

[infjtarot]

10 of Wands. Weiser Waite Smith Tarot

A young boy carries an overwhelming load of ten wands as he walks into town. The burden he carries is so great that the wands block his view of the path. He walks onward and yet he does not seem to know where he is going. Yet the sky is still bright blue and the path at his feet is clear. The Seeker is carrying an oppressive load, and while the Seeker is handling it well, the load is hindering him or her from seeing the path. The Seeker cannot see where he or she is going right now as a result of the oppressive load. Maybe the Seeker is indecisive about the path he or she should take in life because the Seeker is doing too much at once right now.

If the inquiry is about a venture, work, or business, it is being inundated with administrative or transactional burdens, and as a result the Seeker has lost track of the venture’s original mission. The load carried is preventing sight and insight into the future. That said, the outlook is still optimistic, as indicated by the blue sky. The Seeker manages the burden well, without much incident, as suggested by the clear path at his feet. In the end, the Seeker will reach his or her destination, just as the town is in sight. Typically the ten wands represent other people’s burdens, but the Seeker is one who tends to shoulder the burdens of others and make those burdens his or her own responsibility. The burdens could also represent commitments or obligations the Seeker has to others. The wands generally represent not the Seeker’s own burdens carried for his or her personal benefit, but burdens the Seeker has taken on for the sake of others. Contrast: The Two of Pentacles in reverse can suggest the sense of being overburdened, but the Two of Pentacles represents multiple projects or multiple focal points that the Seeker is trying to juggle for him- or herself. On the other hand, the Ten of Wands suggests someone who is carrying other people’s work and feeling exhausted from the responsibilities. Perhaps the Seeker has taken on too much, is so immersed in other people’s problems that he or she can no longer see his or her own path. The message here is to let go of those burdens and prioritize the self over others, at least until the Seeker reaches town; in other words, until the Seeker attains his or her own personal goals. If the Seeker is constantly working for others rather than for him- or herself, the resentment that will inevitably accumulate may move the Seeker toward imprudent actions. Thus, the Seeker is urged to focus on the self again. The blue sky suggests that the oppressive load is temporary and the Seeker is going to be just fine in the end. Benebel Wen

#10 of Wands #wands #tarot #Weiser Waite Smith Tarot #benebel wen

[percontaion-points]

Court chapters 8-11

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 8

“Welcome, my dear Grace, to the Gargoyle Court.”

Chapter 8 summary: Grace knows what it’s like when she turns into a gargoyle, and this isn’t it. She’s filled with panic and pain as it takes her over. 

When she blinks again, she’s standing in an unknown place. She panics for a second, thinking that this is some trick of Cyrus’s. 

The Beast is a few feet away though, but he’s so much different than how he had been a second earlier. Grace has to remind herself that Cyrus chained the Beast up for a thousand years; he’s on their side. 

The man is now dressed in fine garb, and standing tall and proud. Grace realises that not only is this as he had been before his imprisonment, but this is also the Gargoyle King. He congratulates her, in proper English, and tells her that they’re at the Gargoyle Court. 

Chapter 9

“Surely you know what that’s like, granddaughter. You must be inundated with voices from the Gargoyle Army as well, yes?”

Chapter 9 summary: Grace looks around and realises that the court is literally… well. A mediaeval court. That while the other courts adapted to the changing times, obviously the gargoyles were never given the chance to do that. The Beast, who is finally able to introduce himself as Alistair, tells Grace that yes. He was the king. But now the rule is hers, and hers alone. That she’s the one who brought them there, even if Grace doesn’t know how.

He begins to tell her about the gargoyles, which is pretty much her wildest dream ever since finding out she was the last gargoyle. That they can all communicate telepathically. Low-level soldiers can only do it over rather short distances. Generals can reach further. But the king/queen can reach anybody, at any time. But that also means that the ruler can get messages from the citizens at any time. Which Grace thinks is both great yet awful. 

Alistair tells her that it was one of the first things to slip away after he was imprisoned. That he was forced to listen to his citizens screaming out for his help, and not knowing where he was. To Grace, she knows that he was listening to his citizens being slaughtered by Cyrus. 

He then turns to her and almost cheerfully asks that she’s constantly being bombarded by the voices of the gargoyle armies. 

Chapter 10

Spread out around the courtyard are dozens upon dozens of gargoyles, and each one is carrying a massive sword and an even more massive shield.

Chapter 10 summary: Grace is obviously hung up over that last bit. But she’s also hung up over how he’d called her “granddaughter”. She’d really rather not address the elephant, so she asks about the granddaughter business. He corrects himself to say many generations removed, and not simply the daughter of his daughter. But he knows that she’s his descendent, because she’s that powerful. Plus, even though the two of them don’t look physically alike, he can tell because she’s got moxie. 

He then talks about his mate. He knows that she’s still alive, but hints that she’s not a gargoyle. He asks Grace if she could bring her grandmother to the court too, since it’s literally been a thousand years since he’s seen her. 

Grace then finally asks, in a super round-about way, if he’s aware that the gargoyles are all gone. He seems confused, goes over to a door, and opens it. Beyond it are dozens of gargoyles. 

Chapter 11

After all, a queen really does need to know who she can trust. Right?

Chapter 11 summary: As you can expect, Grace is completely and utterly floored by the revelation that she’s not actually the last gargoyle. She asks Alistair that if she’s the queen now, what does that make him? He says that he hopes to be her trusted advisor. 

The two of them stand on some sort of balcony and watch as the gargoyle general orders the others into a training exercise. Grace watches them fight for a moment, and enjoys how they transform back into humans after and joke around about it. 

Alistair asks if she’s ready to meet the general, and Grace decides that she needs to know who her new allies are. 

#Crave series #Court (Crave 4) #chapter 08 #chapter 09 #chapter 10 #chapter 11 #Grace (Crave) #Cyrus Vega