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mihrsuri · 13 days

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JOAN.

Dauphine of France. Princess of Scotland. Princess of Albion. Queen Regnant of Scotland. Queen of England. The Half Breed Heathens Whore Of A Wife. My Darling Wise Thistle. Little Wise Eyed. Jeanne.

Though Joan’s father died not six months after her birth his love for her was remarked upon - indeed it was said that he could hardly bear to be apart from her. His death was something her mother Mary never recovered from despite two subsequent marriages and the reminder of him in her black haired and grey eyed daughter seems to have been a mixture of grief and solace to her. Joan proved to be a serious child - interested in books, archery and riding but with a keen talent for music she was included in and educated in rulership from a young age, particularly by her paternal grandmother who remarked that she saw ‘very much of Marguerite of Navarre in her’ she was excellent at politics, at rulership and in her concern and interest in the lives of all her people but she was not warm and nor did she have the charisma and ability to draw the eye of her mother, something that drew unfavourable comparisons. Her marriage was made out of pragmatism on her part and no one was more surprised than Joan when it turned into love.

(inspired in part by this edit by @emilykaldwen (ABBY MY BELOVED))

#lil and her ridiculous aus #ot3: political power trio #au: golden world #pending graphic tag #lils edits #this is who thomas and mihrimahs oldest son marries #it really is arranged marriage to lovers #turhan has a really difficult time because Living Up To His Parents #(not that his parents aren’t great parents they are)#(it’s just living up to them is…FUCK)#Joan has to wrestle with the fact that people look to her more than her mother but also absolutely compare her to her mother negatively #tudorsedit #herawell #also joans mothers life choices #(mqos does have way less terrible men in her life i think)#(but also she and joan do really struggle to connect and understand each other)#turhan struggles with being the heir of rulers who live up to their legends (positive for both) as rulers and people and then some #and also turhan really follows his mothers faith and takes after his maternal grandfathers family in appearance #and while England by the time of his reign is Different And Better #people are going to people even in this kindest possible world #and in some ways without thomas and mihrimah he has to be like #what is a legacy dot gif #tudors ot3 verse reference

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jomiddlemarch · 4 months

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We are never ever getting back together

“Listen, ‘Mione, I’m just going to say it. We don’t work, love,” Ron announced, sitting on the armchair he’d dragged over to face the sofa in what was generally referred to as Hermione’s reading room at Grimmauld Place, in that it was the old library which she’d spent roughly a week scouring, sorting, and reshelving the books that hadn’t tried to bite or burn her Muggle-born hands. She’d Transfigured some of the uglier pieces of furniture from other rooms and made an approximated mash-up of her favorite parts of the Hogwarts Library and the Bodleian. She’d reached a détente with the only portrait that remained, some wizard ancestor of Sirius’s who could at least tolerate a witch with an appreciation for old runes who hadn’t tried to chuck the moldy lot of Hagalaz into the fireplace and who arranged a reading pedestal with an open book to alleviate the boredom of the past two hundred years. She had a bedroom on the third floor, down the hall from the bath, but she was most often found tucked up in a corner of the reading room, so it hadn’t taken any genius on Ron’s part to beard her in her den, so to speak.

The rest of the house was empty, which was either a wise precaution or the stupidest decision he’d ever made in his life.

“What do you mean?” Hermione said, trying to keep her voice even. “I don’t understand—”

“Yes, you do,” he said, looking up at her. He’d picked the chair with the low, squashy seat, that hadn’t taken the Transfiguration especially well, so that she’d focused on the nap of the dark velvet and let the springs go hang. It made him a supplicant, now, which she supposed was a canny decision, one she might expect from someone who was a grandmaster at Wizard chess. “You know and you and I both know you’d never say a word if it was left to you. We’d be married seventy years with a dozen curly-haired ginger grandchildren, and you’d sacrifice everything rather than say it.”

“You don’t want me,” Hermione said. He’d taken Padma to the Yule Ball and he’d left her with Harry when they were hunting Horcruxes—why was she surprised? It still felt like a Bludger to the chest or what she imagined one would be, having had no interest in playing Quidditch for the duration of her Hogwarts education and then having been forbidden (ha!) by Madame Pomfrey after Dolohov’s near-fatal curse in the Department of Mysteries. She tried to focus on Ron’s blue eyes, the furrow in his broad forehead.

“You don’t want me, love,” Ron said. “I don’t want you to start calling me Ronald in that carefully not-exasperated-yet-totally-exasperated tone, bossing me about like you’re Molly Weasley Junior. I don’t want to squabble and fight and then be those people who are contemptuous or bored with each other. You’ll never walk away, you’re too loyal, not just to me but to the idea of us, and you can’t bear that it was a mistake. Your ideas got us through the War, saved everyone’s bloody lives, but this one’s wrong.”

“A mistake,” Hermione repeated.

“Well, not a mistake. It made sense to try but it was only meant to be a date or two for us, don’t you think?” Ron said, giving her a wry smile. He needed a shave and a haircut and he’d put on a stone of pure muscle once they’d won the final battle. He was a man looking up at her and she was bedraggled and thin, a streak of white in her chestnut curls like a virgin priestess’s filet. The sleeves of her jersey flopped over her wrists to her knuckles. “Don’t take it so hard, it’s not your fault.”

“Seems like it is,” she muttered. “If you’re breaking up with me.”

“You know better than that,” Ron said. “Think about it—if we hadn’t been dealing with the possible end of the Wizarding world as we know if and the annihilation of the entire Muggle-born and Muggle population—”

“It’s called genocide, Ron,” she put in. He rolled his eyes.

“Fine, if we hadn’t been dealing with all that and the genocide and you having to hide your parents, et cetera, if it had been normal, we would have gone out a few times. A Hogsmeade weekend, a dance, a walk around the lake. We would have snogged without having to break it off to face down a melagomaniac—”

“Megalomaniac,” she corrected.

“Bloody Riddle. Anyway, we could have tried it out and seen that all there was was a flicker of attraction but mostly friendship,” Ron said. “I like you, ‘Mione, and I think you like me. That’s enough. We don’t have to be this perfect love story and you know we won’t be.”

“You have to work at relationships,” Hermione said.

“Not this bloody hard, love,” Ron said. The kindness in his voice was too close to pity and it hurt.

“There’s no need to be rude,” she snapped.

“I don’t mean you’re difficult and I’m a saint, far from it,” Ron laughed. “I mean, we’re alike in all the ways that make it hard and not alike in the ways we need. You don’t have to work this bloody hard, ‘Mione, to be happy with someone and I truly think that if you weren’t with me, you’d be able to find the person you want.”

“I suppose you have someone you want to be with instead of me,” she said.

“Nope,” he said. “I just want to a chance to figure it out. To play, to not have everything be so bloody serious. Everyone pairing off and repopulating the entire Wizarding world before we turn twenty-one, for sweet Circe’s sake.”

“Your mother won’t like that,” Hermione said.

“She can stuff it,” Ron declared. “Besides, Fleur’s up the duff again and this time it’s twins, so that’s her sorted for a bit. Bill has his work cut out arguing that Shell Cottage can hold all of them and they don’t need to move closer to the Burrow. Plus, I think Ginny’s going to sign with the Harpies and Mum is up in arms about the first Weasley witch not to sit her NEWTs in like a thousand years, which is bosh because there weren’t NEWTs a thousand years ago.”

Hermione smiled. He was right, she did like him an awful lot, when the other parts weren’t clamoring for her attention or generally getting in the way.

“I’m right about that last bit, aren’t I?” Ron said. “The NEWTs bit?”

“Yes, they’re more recent than a thousand years,” Hermione said. She squared her shoulders and pressed her lips together. She had to like it or lump it and it seemed like lump it was the easier option at the moment.

“I don’t want you thinking it’s because I don’t find you attractive,” Ron said. He laid one big hand on her denim covered knee where her robes had fallen apart and she felt how warm he was. “Thinking about shagging you and then getting to do it were quite honestly the only things getting me through the worst of it these past few years. It’s why I left, innit, when the Horcrux was messing with me, being jealous, thinking you were with Harry when I wanted you all for myself. But that’s not going to be enough for us, for you or for me—”

“I’m to believe you’re being sincere?” Hermione asked. Ron grinned, squeezed her knee and the bit of her thigh that was right above it.

“I got there on my own about not being enough for you. George caught me moping, gave me some older brother advice and general whatfor, telling me I was a twit for thinking getting to shag the brightest witch of our time would be enough for me, that I wasn’t as shallow as that and to buck up,” Ron admitted.

“I would have thought Bill,” Hermione said.

“Nah, I wouldn’t have taken him seriously,” Ron said. “He married a half-Veela, what does he know about being with a regular witch? For the record and before you get your knickers in a twist, I’d say the same about Hagrid, it’s not anti-creature bias.”

“Seems to me you shouldn’t be mentioning my knickers,” Hermione retorted.

“That’s my girl,” Ron replied. “Though, my entire point was that I am quite enticed by your knickers and what’s in them. It’s just not enough for a long-term relationship and you and I, we aren’t made for a fling.”

“If we were, I think we must have flung it by now anyway,” Hermione said.

“We do have the house to ourselves if you’re interested in a last hurrah, love,” Ron said, waggling his eyebrows and smiling. It was the look in his eyes, an appreciative lust, that told her he wasn’t joking.

“And what would you do if I called your bluff and took you up on the offer?” Hermione asked.

“This,” he said, both hands suddenly at her waist, lifting her off the couch and onto his lap. “I’d have my way with you and give you something to remember me by while that git Draco works through a whatchamacallit redemption arc and gets up the gumption to make a move—”

“Draco Malfoy?” Hermione exclaimed. She ended up wrapping her arms around Ron’s neck to keep her balance. His were steady at her hips.

“He fancies you, that’s obvious,” Ron said. “But it is a two-way street. Maybe you’d prefer our snakeslayer Neville? He’s got a whole striding the windswept moors thing these days that’s rather dashing, like that Heath Ledger bloke you told me about in the Muggle book, but without the creepy parts. Or Zabini? Never took the Mark and he’s nearly as clever as you and mad fit.”

“You mean Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights, who’s frankly not much like Neville in a good way. This is a very odd conversation to be having with my ex-boyfriend-and-undeclared-fiancé,” Hermione said. She left out how it was even odder than they appeared to be on the verge of shagging, as if that was something one could be on the verge of.

“That’s why it’s best we’re about to be best friends,” Ron said, though the word friends was lost a little as he nuzzled the side of her neck. “I’ll have to cede all the filthy details to Ginny though. You can just give me the broad strokes, hm-mm, like that…”

It was all rather a blur after that, hands and lips and Ron muttering about how her skin felt like silk and a grand tussle over denims being pulled off and not Vanished, not this pair which he agreed made her arse look amazing, and she probably would have blushed to recall it afterward anyway, but Harry walking in, stopping dead in his tracks like he’d been hit with Petrificus Totalus, then choking out “You were breaking up—” before he fled the room made her almost wish she had not taken an iron-clad vow against ever using an Obliviate again.

“He’ll get over it,” Ron said calmly enough after they’d finished, laughing madly like they were drunk on Firewhisky and not multiple orgasms.

“And if he doesn’t?” Hermione said.

“You leave that to me, love. That’s what friends are for,” Ron said.

#hp fanfic #hermione granger #ron weasley #hermione x ron #break-up fic #epilogue what epilogue #post-hogwarts #lovers to friends #mention of assorted weasleys #no ron bashing #in which I try to make this relationship make sense #Ron suggests Dramione #humor #Happy New Year #I am the mother of a Swiftie #Ron demonstrating actual strategy and insight #fluff

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july-19th-club · 11 months

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love an ending that is 'happy' in that a desirable outcome is produced, but made complicated by the fact that the protagonist has given up something integral to themself in order to make it so. it's sort of uncool in some circles to admit you LIKE when characters give up something really cool for something pretty basic, but it's all about context and quality of storytelling, right? that sort of conviction - this is a part of my personality that i am permanently renouncing access to, and it's my choice, and i'm going to miss it, but i'm not going to regret it - that's compelling. ending in which a character who loves nothing more than the rush of finding the answer to a question is handed, one day, a puzzle they just don't want to solve. and that part of their life is over, but it's not a bad thing. maybe the answer doesn't need to be known. maybe not knowing it opens you up to a creative mindset you never had before. character who gains some kind of special power chooses to give it up not because they no longer love the ability, not because it hasn't improved their life, but because this thing they love comes with costs, is getting in the way of a life someone they love or loved and lost would want them to live. i'm glad it turned out this way. i miss the missing thing with all my heart. i would let go of it again if i was asked to choose.

#stories where people give up something beautiful to live ordinary lives because there's something in the ordinary life they want more #a very common variant of this is of course the 'immortal character renounces their lifespan for a mortal lover' plot #which is fine and all #but i like more nuanced versions . like my tobias animorphs epilogue idea where he and his mother reconnect more permanently #and one day when he's at her house they have a long. long talk. about what he is going to do now. it's been years but he's still #in this holding pattern of grief and solitude. but his mother is his one anchor to the world of humanity. and she's not getting any younger #and hawk lifespans aren't getting any longer. and they spent so much time away from each other #and he says. i miss her like an amputation mom. how do you keep going?#and she says. not missing your father because i didn't know that i loved him and he was gone was worse #and she asks hm if he's sure he could be human again. if he could give up his hard-earned flexibility of form #and he says we've been sitting here talking for three hours. little late to second-guess it now #this got away from me . but you see my vision #writing tag #animorphs i guess also lol #q

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localplaguenurse · 14 days

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So was anyone going to tell me people think Arms Tonite is about sex or was I just supposed to find this out in a youtube comment calling it "the cum song?"

#mother mother #arms tonite #like what do you mean #what told you this is a sex song #i'm all up for different interpretations but man #i've never even considered that like it's only ever been about someone literally dying in their lover's arms

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fluffypotatey · 2 years

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I see your cryptid nightmare Merlin and raise you, cryptid-by-association Hunith. Like, it's canon that other magic beings have an innate ability to sense Emrys, and she's spent almost 20 years being surrounded by his magic, so now she just has this unseen aura of Not To Be Fucked With, By Order Of Emrys. On market days, she takes a shortcut to the next town through a Very Haunted Forest and it's like:

Dryad 1: Bro, there's a human in our forest, the fuck?

Dryad 2: Bite your fucking tongue, Carl, that's Hunith.

Dryad 1: Whoa, Emrys's mom?

Dryad 2: Emrys's mom. So put your fucking roots down and be nice.

Dryad 1: Oh, shit, yeah, totally, my bad.

Dryad 2: She's really nice, too. Watch. Hi, Hunith!

......

Hunith: *hears the trees rustling without a breeze*

Hunith: *raised a child that regularly spoke to plants, bodies of water, and animals*

Hunith: Good afternoon, lovely day, isn't it?

........

Dryad 1: Oh, she is nice!

Dryad 2: Told you.

A sorcerer in the market town sees Hunith come strolling idly out of a forest that has a Known history of trying to Actively Murder Trespassers and is just like, "What the actual fuck?"

i moved my queue 2 hours later because i didn't want this to get drowned out because YES

we've now seen cryptid eldritch horror that is emrys aka merlin, but anon is asking the right questions. who does the cryptid horror better? who started it first? who is ignorant to the abject terror they insight on magical people because of how they surround themself with???

why hunith of course!

#tbh i dunno what else to add anon you summed it up perfectly #also every sorcerer hunith meets she flirts with because there's just something about magic users for her idk #that sorcerer in the market who stared at her in awe and fear? she winked at them and asked them out #imagine balinor coming back to help merlin and maybe rekindle old flames with her and learns that she's got a long list of lovers #lovers who (despite their annoyance/fear/anger of her godly son and his ungodly powers) would do anything for her #actually: hunith's life is mama mia but with magic and a fantasy au #where was i going with this? idk i'm tired it's passed 12am #bbc merlin #hunith #all hail hunith the mother of emrys #merlin emrys #headcanons #bamf merlin #bamf hunith #Anonymous #asks

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void-botanist · 2 months

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Rose's Kiss Week Day 5: Lonely

OCs: Marcus Asalun (aka Anchesh Pabat) and Gren Orech-Pabat

Words: 1335

Content warnings: mentions of family health issues

Notes: this takes place six months after Anchesh married his last spouse, human himbo Gren.

At the other end of the sofa, Gren sighed for the tenth time in as many minutes. He was staring off at the other end of the room, chin propped up in one big hand, and more than likely didn’t even realize he sounded so despondent.

“How are you doing?” Anchesh asked.

“I’m fine. It’s just lonely without Yera.”

Probably it was best not to talk too much about Yera, because Gren would only get sadder if he started thinking about why Yera was out of town and how stressed she must be. Instead Anchesh put aside his knitting.

“I’m probably not as good at cuddling as Yera,” he said, moving to the cushion next to Gren, “but I’m here.”

Gren instantly pivoted and deflated into his lap, settling one cheek against his thigh and a hand over his knee. Today Gren’s hair was held in a bunlike fold with just an alligator clip, which Anchesh gently pulled out and set on the open cushion beside him. Then he combed his fingers back through Gren’s loose locks.

“I feel bad being lonely,” Gren murmured. “Her family needs her way more than I do, and I’m not alone here.”

“You’re her family too,” Anchesh answered in the same low tone. “And it doesn’t feel the same, not having her here.”

“Yeah.” Gren squeezed his leg a little, like he needed something to cling to.

Anchesh let Gren’s hair slip through his fingers over and over, massaging Gren’s scalp with each draw. Truth be told, he was worried about Yera too. She would be fine, unless her father got worse. He probably wouldn’t die, not yet, but the wondering and waiting felt unsettling enough for him at home—it must be awful for her. She was right to have the rest of them stay behind, except Hossan, because sooner or later they’d all be at loose ends and end up making her feel worse. But he still wished he could be there to hold her and talk to her, probably just the same as Gren.

“Maybe I don’t spend enough time with the rest of you,” Gren said suddenly. “Especially you.”

“I don’t mind how much time you spend with Yera and Hossan,” Anchesh answered.

“Yeah, but—” Gren rose from his lap, slowly enough that he didn’t pull his own hair in Anchesh’s hands. With his hair pushed behind his ears, he said, “I’m your husband too. And you don’t get tired of me like Pali does. I would leave you alone if you wanted me to but you’ve never told me to do that.”

Anchesh handed him the alligator clip. “I mean, I’m happy to spend more time with you. I just don’t want you to worry too much about it.”

Gren stared at nothing while he smoothed his hair back into a ponytail and clipped it there. Then he continued looking at some spot further down the sofa. “Anchesh...do you love me?”

It was a serious question that deserved a serious answer, but Anchesh was distracted by the plaintiveness of Gren’s voice. Had this been worrying him for the last six months?

Gren waited two seconds before adding, “Not like you love Yera or Umedes, but...”

He took Gren’s hand from his lap, and Gren looked up. “I do love you, Gren. You’re my friend. And my husband. And I’m glad I married you.”

“Really?” He didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“Really. I would have married you just for Yera and Hossan, but I like having you around too. You’re so bright, and lovely, and you always make sure we have what we need. And—”

“I think Pali does that.”

“Pali doesn’t keep everyone upbeat,” Anchesh said. “And she’s definitely not good at making sure we all rest, especially not herself. I think she’s gotten more sleep in the six months you’ve been here than she has since I married her.” Gren didn’t say anything, so he kept going. “We need someone who’s as thoughtful as you are. I need someone who is.” An almost melancholy gratitude welled up in him, and he tried to figure out how to put words to it. He wasn’t sure that Gren understood how much he made life more bearable. He wasn’t sure any of his spouses did, even though he didn’t know where he’d be without them. He loved all of them, and he needed all of them, and on some level he needed Gren, the only one who wasn’t at least a little wrapped up in politics and particularities, most of all. He put his other hand over Gren’s. “You mean a lot to me, Gren.”

“Do you think you could say that more? Not that, but like, ‘I love you’?”

When was the last time he’d told Gren he loved him? Even if he didn’t remember exactly, he had a feeling it had been days, or weeks. He’d decided without thinking about it that Gren didn’t really need to hear it, and he definitely didn’t need to hear it from him, arguably Gren’s least favorite spouse aside from Pali.

“Of course I can,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Gren’s hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t said it very much.”

“It’s okay.” Gren put his other hand on top of Anchesh’s. Then he dropped his cheek against Anchesh’s shoulder.

“You know you can always tell me about your feelings,” Anchesh said.

“You don’t tell me about yours,” Gren said. “Except in bed, kinda.”

“Do you want to know about my feelings?”

“Yes!” Gren lifted his head and his face was all exasperation. “I know I don’t understand all of the things you do but I can understand how you feel!”

“Most of my feelings aren’t good.” And it would be cruel to burden someone like Gren with them.

“I still want to know,” Gren said. “I just want to be there for you, but I never know what’s going on with you.”

He’d given up on being there for Gren because it was obvious Gren didn’t need him, and he couldn’t keep track of the constantly shifting world he lived in with Yera and Hossan. “While Yera and Hossan are gone, maybe we should focus on that. Being there for each other.”

“I’d like that.” Gren’s eyes fell to their hands, and Anchesh thought he could see a blush rising in his cheeks. “I’d also like to kiss you more.”

“You can kiss me whenever you want.” He felt like he meant that the most of anything he’d said so far. Gren raised his head and went straight to softly touching his lips to Anchesh’s, his mustache tickling at Anchesh’s smooth-shaven upper lip.

On the next kiss his hand caressed the curve of Anchesh’s neck, and then he untangled his other hand from Anchesh’s and threw both arms around his neck, and when that apparently wasn’t enough he broke the kiss and fully straddled Anchesh’s thighs, hunching a little to reach his lips. Anchesh tilted his head further back in turn, feeling the pleasant tension of his horns pressing against the back of the sofa. Despite his position, Gren didn’t seem like he was trying to be seductive. He kissed Anchesh to savor him, like he was fresh water on Gren’s parched tongue, a tongue carefully exploring the contours of Anchesh’s. He was in no rush, and his skin was warm against Anchesh’s where they touched, Gren’s feet pressed against his knees, hands along the edge of his neckline, soft lips drinking him in. Anchesh let his hands run back over Gren’s thighs, his hips, to the bare, fuzzy skin at his midriff, and held on there.

When Gren pulled back at long last, his breath was edged with gasps, and so was Anchesh’s.

“I love you, Anchesh. I love you so much.”

Without a word, they pulled each other close, Anchesh wrapping his arms around Gren’s back as he leaned forward to press his cheek against Gren’s shoulder.

“I love you too, Gren.”

RKW taglist: @vacantgodling @jezifster @kk7-rbs

#spoiler alert: Yera's father does not die and is still alive when Anchesh returns from Rade years later #Yera comes back and is like “what have you two been up to hmm” and they're like “literally we just talked about our feelings”#as I was writing this I had this realization that Anchesh and Gren are givers but for two different reasons and this brings them conflict #Gren is just Like That. his whole identity is based around giving. it comes with the himbo archetype #but also he doesn't see any reason to be selfish. he is fundamentally a lover in the same way Tatya is #Anchesh on the other hand would still absolutely be a kind person if he wasn't traumatized but his giving is defined by that trauma #he gives because he doesn't want to be like his mother. doesn't want to make his internal life everyone else's problem #but he also has been taught by his mother that his only value is in what he can give and how he can support other people's needs (hers)#so he minimizes himself expertly. even when he shouldn't. because it's kinder not to be outwardly depressed - right?#because it's better not to be the burden that he knows he is - right?#I didn't intend for these scenes to trace Anchesh's descent into further depression #but like. it's kind of hard not to trace that line. it informs so much about his relationships and what he struggles with in them #anyway ren here's a feast lol #c: Marcus #c: Gren #wip: iecunem #rose brambles #rose's kiss week #rose writ

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months

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hhhhh i wanna write a kenny fic so BAD but i cant come up w a good concept for it………. T_T

#i have one planned but it isnt rly romantic at all :< i love writing platonic fics but..#what kind of kenny fucker would i be if i didnt also write him smth sickeningly sweet? 😔😔#……. i just feel like its bound to end up twisted one way or another which is fine!! but i dont wanna go overboard hhhh #the first thought that popped into my head was a silly reader w mommy issues immediately falling head over heels for him PSJDKDJ #bc they sense that hes a Mother. following him like a duckling. and hes just indulgent #and then maybe reader is also a little (Lot) unhinged and hes midly intrigued and thats enough for . Some. kind of connection #why must he be so hard to write T_T ONE DAY THO….#me and the 6 other kenny lovers WILL be fed mark my words

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sergeantpixie · 5 months

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Do you prefer saphne or kanthony and why?! kanthony was too much constant bickering/clashing and not enough actual connection for my taste but i know that’s not a popular opinion!!

You know I wasn't on tumblr when the first two seasons of Bridgerton aired so I experienced it in a vacuum. I watched it with one of my closest fandom friends, we've been friends for about 10 years at this point, so we know each other really well and we respect each others' opinions too. We both liked both couples and both seasons, but we each had a preference. She preferred season 2 and Kanthony, and I prefer season 1 and Saphne. I didn't need to be on tumblr to know which one would be more popular though, this is the enemies to lovers website.

I tend to prefer the friends to lovers route - that's just who I am. But I think Kate and Anthony are so well written that it makes sense why they argue and fight against it and why they end up hurting a lot of people including each other (Daphne and Simon do this too, just differently.) As older siblings who stepped up to take their fathers' place after his death, Kate and Anthony are very similar, specifically similarly damaged. They put their siblings' needs above their own to their own detriment constantly. It makes sense that they could only fight against their attraction and feelings for each other - it makes sense that the only way Kate could come to terms with her own feelings was through the eyes of her little sister that she puts above all else - and it makes sense that she'd end up hurting her in the process, because that's what happens when you wall yourself off from your needs - especially emotional. You hurt people. (We get that with Anthony and Daphne too, in season 1. He projects his own romantic woes onto Daphne and Simon and tells her they can never be together when he's not actually seeing them, he's only thinking about his own doomed romance with Siena. Every time Kate tells Edwina Anthony is not for her she's talking about herself. Both of them are trying to save their beloved younger siblings from pain as well as themselves - and causing them pain - and also causing themselves pain.)

Daphne and Simon are both exactly my types as characters it's kind of insane. Simon's archetype is one I find appealing in both sexes, but Daphne's is exclusively interesting as a woman to me. Almost all of my favorite female characters are the archetypal perfect girl of their universe and they're so fucking lonely because of it that they're barely human. Simon is lonely too - loneliness is an important factor in being my favorite characters - and he's very defined by the abuse and neglect he suffered in his childhood. And then he meets someone who gives him hope - a friend and a lover and someone who makes the world seem bright. But he's so preoccupied by the pain and the anger from his past that he can't let himself take it. Daphne has the strength and the determination to demand he take it. Daphne is also very emotionally stunted and uneducated about certain aspects of life because the time she grows up in is so infantilizing to young women. (I appreciate Queen Charlotte for showing exactly why Mama Bridgerton is so fucking bad at basic sex ed, god her mother was a nightmare!) Her anger and humiliation at her lack of knowledge and understanding of the world is a lot. They do hurt each other along the way but ultimately choose each other (they choose happiness!) and idk I just love it a lot. A character like Simon being able to decide that love is more important than pain is very beautiful to me. I love that he gets to be Lady Danbury's son instead of his father's.

Thank you for asking, anon!

#asks #anons #kanthony #simon x daphne #bridgerton #I absolutely get why people are upset about what goes down between simon and daphne #but at the same time you're completely ignoring the fact that daphne doesn't even understand what consent is #no one taught her #it's so fucked up #yes she did a wrong thing but no one ever taught her anything about sex until simon #and he is not at fault for not telling her everything #it was never his job to tell her #it was her mother's and she failed #because she was failed by her own mother #who was probably failed too #it's a fucking system #I'm stopping myself I get too worked up about this #also yes I know kate and anthony aren't real enemies to lovers give me a break #also i should’ve prefaced all of this by saying i’ve never read the books

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pastel-rights · 2 months

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And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.

#ringmaster doodles #sona art #( they’re very much the theme of. love in the face of the neverending march of time. )#( being immortal and knowing you will outlive the man you love because someone else deemed he unworthy of eternal life. )#( he may still have tens of thousands of years left. sure. but you know that those will go by and he’ll disappear in the blink of an eye. )#( and you’ll sit there on his death bed. wondering why did things end up like this? )#( wondering what you did wrong. and if you could have done something different. you’ll always ask yourself. )#( if he lives a life of happiness and comfort or did he live a life as gruesome and miserable as the wars on earth? but you won’t know. )#( and the more you think about it. the more you realize it. how nihilistic he was. and how he never seemed to smile even in the good times.#he always seemed to have a frown or a scowl on his face. he always seems bothered and unhappy. )#( so you wonder if it was something you did. because you know you aren’t perfect. you’re hardly good. )#( you wonder if he’s mad at you. maybe he was. but he doesn’t have the heart to stay mad. )#( and that’s love in the face of adversity. knowing that no matter how bad it gets. he loves you as you love him. )#( and you wonder why he never smiles. because he truly never does. and so you ask him. honest and true. )#( and he tells you there isn’t anything worth smiling for. nothing in this whole world. )#( but he smiles at you. it’s always small. and it’s always brief. )#( but that smile. that smile means love. )#( that hug. as flimsy as it may be. that hug means love. )#( of course. he isn’t affectionate. if anything. he detests it. he hates physical contact of any kind. you’ve noticed. )#( which is a shame. you love your hugs and your kisses and your hand holding. )#( but even if he doesn’t like it. he lets you do it. because it makes you happy. )#( and you learn that when you’re happy. he’s a little less miserable. )#( of course. not all love is equal. and not all love is fair. )#( the love from a lover and the love from the father can never equate to one another. )#( no one will love you in the same way a father or mother loves you. in the same manner. no one will ever love you the way I do. )#( because my love will remain with you. long after I disappear. )#( and as bitter as the idea of my own existence coming to an end is. knowing I did all of this for. essentially nothing. )#( that I’ve gone through all this pain and suffering and hardship just for it to all amount to nothing. for it to be fucking useless to try.#I get to die knowing that you’ll always love and be loved. and that’s enough for me… )#( … maybe there is something worth smiling for after all. )

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bellarichie · 10 months

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everyone talks about the cat distribution system with glamour and reciprocity but no one ever warns you about an annoying ass cat fixating on you without any reason whatsoever when you already have a cat who's perfectly fine. like ok i guess? i'll be your loving owner. begrudgingly.

#for context i'm not much of an animal lover my mother just happens to own a lot of cats #and we live together #and somehow everyone has their assigned cat #so we have this cat who used to stay outside in the porch and garage #we have our reasons but idc to explain #she got ran over and we had to take her in #btw we never even interacted b4 this she didn't seem to give a fuck about me #but now she's fixated in me for some reason #and my assigned cat is avoiding my room cause now there's this strange cat in it #no disrespect but all this new cat know how to do is #break my stuff #try to steal my food #yell really loudly until i let her out like 3x a night #sleep on top of my back #throw up on me while i sleep #but what can i do except of accepting that #goddamn cat distribution system you work in malicious ways

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jdsmineralwater · 1 year

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you would think learning all of the words to the pre tsia monologue would be something i remember doing

i do not

#yo i am going to talk about feeling. ukrainian men have two emotions: rage and passion. it will always be hate that got me on my mad game #because i am best rapper in all north eastern saskachewan!! grap your dicks if youre in the 306 bruh!! you might know me as bad egg on #the youtube i am well known there. it is where i met my shawty natalia. she left me mostly positive feedback on my youtube #comment wall. and then we became mad passionaye all night lovers on facebook twitter we made love on all the social media networks #we were engaged. i was saving up to move back to ukraine. we were.. we were.. too much passion. now rage. i have no respect for this #country! you know what this canada is leading supplier of to whole world? two things: mustard seeds and uranium. good for hotdogs yes but #not so good for ukraine. so thank you for killing my mother and for indirectly killing me. i feel the rage and when i rage i rap about #money in autotune. autotune will never die. HIT THE BEAT #jdsmineralwater #ride the cyclone #mischa bachinski #mischa rtc #mischa bachinski rtc #rtc #tsia #this song is awesome

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bronzewool · 1 year

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Dune is ruining my life.

I have not been able to stop thinking about the series ever since I stumbled across the sequel in the library. And since it's like 1/3 of the length of the original, I picked it up for some light reading just to see if there was something I was missing.

I am frustrated by how much I desperately want to learn more about this world, but I don't wanna read it in this format. The Worldbuilding is fine. The characters are fine. The relationships are fine. The history is fine. The conflict is fine.

I just hate the writing.

Dune Messiah does the same bloody thing in the first book, where it announces the motivations of each character and spoils many plot twists that would have been shocking to learn for yourself. The first chapter even starts with our four central antagonists in the same room talking about how they're going to overthrow House Atreides. So we know who to look out for before Paul even meets them, not that it matters since they're all so bloody incompetent, their plan to overthrow Paul is both way too complicated and laughably straight forward.

It's been 12 years since the first book, Paul got his revenge on the man who killed his father, overthrew the Emperor, and made himself the new Emperor with a devout Fremen army and a monopoly on the Spice extraction.

Except things aren't so perfect. Paul, who is cursed with clairvoyance and has seen the future for all humanity, is trying to avoid the extinction of the human race but, in doing so, has made himself the villain.

"At a conservative estimate, I've killed sixty-one billion, sterilized ninety planets, completely demoralized five hundred others. I've wiped out the followers of forty religions-"

His followers see him as a god and have become a cult who will cut down all non-believers in his name. He has brought water and wealth to Arrakis but is playing the long game, destroying the lives of billions of innocent people for the sake of trillions not even born yet. He's a hard character to root for when you've spent an entire book watching him struggle to earn his happy ending, only to then watch him commit mass genocide in the name of the greater good.

And the book doesn't tell you straight out the gate that Paul is now evil, but let's you digest the consequences of all his decisions. For example, Paul has full control over the Spice trade, a life-extending drug that most citizens have been exposed to at some point. The spice rightfully belongs to the people of Arrakis (even though Paul himself is not a native), but one of the drawbacks to ingesting spice is that withdrawal eventually leads to death. Everyone who takes one step on Arrakis can never leave or must depend on frequent shipments of the stuff in order to keep on living. We are never privy to the innerworkings of the shipment itself or how much it costs, but I couldn't help but compare the dependency on Spice to insulin, especially when Paul learns that someone has attempted to take one of the sandworms to manufacture their own supply of spice on another desert planet.

The book has great moments like that, but it's spliced with chapters of people sitting in a room talking about power, diplomancy, conspiracy, religion, fate, legacy, guilt. And going over those conversations with a Sherlock Holmes level of deduction to uncover hidden meanings, and talking in different rooms with different people.

There is a lot of talking in this book when the plot can be cut down to: Paul's Consort Princess (that he forced into a political marriage right after dethroning her father) has teamed up with the old reverend Mother from the first book to remove Paul from power with the help of a shapeshifter "face dancer" and a space guild navigator who is invisible to the powers of foresight. The Princess secretly drugs Chani, Paul's lover from the first book, with a contraceptive in order to stop her bearing any future heirs. The Guild Navigator presents an artificial human created from the remains Duncan Idaho, who died in the previous book, as a gift to the Emperor. And the shapeshifter has taken on the form of a Fremen.

The innerworkings of their plan are kept hidden from the reader, but the execution is lacklustre when the entire point of the book is that Paul can't lose. Chani is moved back to Arrakis to see a doctor, so the princess can't keep drugging her. The reverand Mother is apprehended early on in the book. Paul knows the resurrected Duncan is a trap meant to be his undoing, and any tension with the shapeshifter is pointless as Paul sees right through his deception, but plays along anyway.

Much like my frustration with the first book, there isn't a lot of narrative tension when it comes to the plot. The only real suprises in the book are, how the conspiracy plans to use Duncan to take down Paul, and near the end when Chani finally gives birth and Paul did not predict her bearing twins as he only ever saw the future of their daughter, and not a twin son who is hidden from Paul's powers and might change the future Paul fought so hard to achieve.

I both enjoy learning about Dune and hate reading it. To the point I'd rather just read the wiki articles. But I can't seem to get it out of my head and hate myself for not enjoying it more when it is so beloved by so many people I respect, and I dont know of its just because I'm not nearly smart enough to fully understand it

#long post #charl's book journey #theres so this subplot with Paul's sister #who is now grown up and has a crush on duncan #which makes no sense #but the way the characters talk about it is so funny #likes shes an animal thats gone into heat #and they must now find a mate for #why is it so clinical and awkward?#and whats with the incestious relationship her and paul?#paul barely reacts to seeing her naked and must be reminded to feel embarassed #and alia who we established from the first book #was born with the knowledge of every reverand mother before her #has this weird relationship with paul #where she sees him as both an older brother and son #due to their mother's memories #and seeing her dead fathet she never met as a lover #there is so much hinted incest #at one point the bene gesserit discuss obtaining both siblings dna for a future breeding programme #and it is so weird how this is never brought up again #everyone wants these two to fuck

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