I know it's not technically a fairy tale, but do you happen to have any recs for retellings of Tam Lin?
--Siena
Unfortunately, no, since I haven't read any. However, I've heard good things about The Perilous Gard, which I believe draws from that fairy tale.
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probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.
we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."
at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.
the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.
the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.
what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.
here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.
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"The dead one! Yeah I haven't thought about her in a long time!"
A little theory I've had about Winter King's original motives based on his heartless comment about Betty and Ice King's original motives for kidnapping princesses in the first place...... clearly she gave off Bad Ex Vibes…
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its trad art weekend. have a law warm up before i go to zine dungeon
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"would you love me if I were a worm?" I would love you in every universe. In every timeline. Maybe not in the same way, or at the same time, but I would love you nonetheless. I was made to love you. It's in my being. It doesn't matter if you're a human or a worm or cosmic entity beyond my comprehension. I would love you.
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thinking about mating press with beefy!bucky. all that weight on top of you, knowing for certain he’s about to breed you?? ughhh
Oh God yes, the thought of this makes me fucking purr 🤤
Just the thought of his thick, slightly curved cock sliding as deep inside as you can take. The feeling of his tip rubbing against your cervix before he withdraws, pulling almost entirely out of you before he glides back in again.
"Good girl, 'm so proud of you. Cum nice and hard for me, I've got you. You're safe." He holds you so close, letting you sob your pleasure against his neck while he works you through another orgasm. It's tender and romantic and loving and you're beyond aware that this man makes you insanely wet.
Your thighs are still trembling as you come down from your high. Each thrust now feels like it's almost too much but with the way Bucky's groaning, he might not be able to keep it up for much longer.
"Fuck, you feel like Heaven. This pretty little pussy was made for me. Made to be mine." His thrusts are punishing but it's an addictive feeling. "I'm going to fill you. I'm not going to pull out. Going to give you a baby."
You're almost surprised how badly you want that but it's very hard to find the words to tell him; not when his thrusts are beginning to stutter and his high seems to get closer and closer.
"I'm going to fuck a baby into you." His hand holds your chin, making sure he can see your eyes. The evidence of pleasure written all over his face might've been enough to convince you that you could handle another orgasm but you'll still not quite sure that's a good idea.
Within a few more seconds, his cock is throbbing inside you, shooting stripes of hot, thick cum right against your cervix. He looks entirely content with his decision, pressing as deep as he can so you can feel him pulse and twitch.
There's not much you need to say to each other for a few seconds. Instead, it's nice to just listen to you both trying to catch your breath while your partner floods your waiting, fluttering sex with his cum.
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Jazz wasn't crazy. People might argue that burning her childhood home to the ground with her parents still inside would be an indicator of insanity. But how else was she supposed to react after coming back home from college to find out her parents had brutally killed her brother via vivisection?
Dying her hair blonde wasn't crazy either before anyone asked. Plenty of girls dyed their hair when they needed a change. Besides, she could never live with herself if she kept the same hair color as that vile woman.
Admittedly Jazz would have to secede moving to Gotham had been a little crazy but it was the perfect place to start fresh and blend in despite her "quirks". She had even picked out a nice new identity for herself.
Clearly Jazz was not crazy as she had managed to land a job at Arkham Asylum as a psychiatrist. If she were really insane would they have ever hired her? No they wouldn't have.
Jazz was not crazy. She was very much sane. Just like her precious Mr. J.
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based on the
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ask Springtrap to purr for us... please? ^^
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cursed no tattoo machete (I'm sorry for doing this to him)
.
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I just had the intense realization that Alastor, aka the last person in universe that anyone would ever consider to be sentimental or the type to consider his friends family, was the first person to coin the term Found Family in CANON! Legit he was the first to bring up the idea of the Hotel being a family!
YEAH NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT??? I didn't even fully see them as a found family before he brought it up ahah, that line in the song made me think about it harder and be like "Oh wait YEAH they kinda are"
I don't think he was sincere at that moment ("I'm making Charlie believe we are a family so she doesn't feel the need to reconnect with her dad" yk) but it means the idea of them being a family was already somewhere in the back of his head 👀 Alastor is there something you would like to share with the class
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It's kind of tragic, in a sense, that iterators were made with so much of their creators logic and desires and yet they were left with none of the resources to satisfy such things.
Do you think they crave touch? Family? Do you think they have to have any hope of connection stomped out of them lest they rebel against what they were made for?
Were they ever afraid to feel, or to be outside of what they were supposed to be? If they ever dared to desire, would they have to hide it?
Do you think they saw their creators sometimes as family, and did the abuse hurt just that much more because of it?
Were they like children, when they were born? Did they process the world through the lens of uncertainty and naivete and was that taken advantage of to mold them into the desired product?
Or were they conscious and self aware in full, was is overwhelming, being alive for the first time?
Or were did they process things entirely as machines, did they only learn to be people after seeing it happen around them, and then did they ever regret becoming more alive than they ever needed to be? That they ever became enough to feel hurt and to hurt others?
If they were just machines at birth, with only the capability of consciousness, were the desired traits injected into them with thoughts and ideas and interactions in their formative early years and was anything else just a byproduct of trying to build a person from scratch? Did their creators even want them to feel, to be conscious and alive, or was that just a necessity to create the desired machine?
Did they even care that their creations were alive?
Did any of them grieve, when they left the children of their labor behind? Were they grieved for in turn when they were gone? Do their echoes ever try to reach out, to let them know they aren't alone, to find comfort in connection that before was so condemned?
If they tried hard enough, could they reach?
Could they find each other?
Would it be comforting to iterators that the remnants of their creators could find them, or would it bring more feelings of rage, of sorrow, of painful memories and grief and hurt from the years they were used and the years more they were abandoned?
Did they ever truly mean anything to each other?
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i cannot believe that there are people who still get upset about ship loyalty in 2024. i’m just putting my little guys into situations can you chill
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you ever wonder what the inciting incident was for diluc's distaste for alcohol?
what happened between the teenager who set kaeya as lookout while he stole them a bottle of wine from crepus and the adult man who never touches it despite being a winery owner and tycoon?
did it start after crepus died, when he presumably took over for him at angel's share? when he served patrons at night, did he see for the first time what it does to people who consume it without restraint? when he sees his father's wine used as a friend, lover, and executioner?
or did it start when he saw how kaeya uses it, burying his pain and grief, while his brother is forced to watch? is it just another obstacle between them as kaeya drinks to forget? as he sends his little brother home in a daze, so drunk he calls him D by mistake?
or did he once drink to forget himself, with a cold bottle on a lifeless, frozen mountain? did he crave the numbness of not feeling at all, the world reduced to white noise? did he wake up half-dead in the snow, not knowing whether he was alive or not and realizing he didn't care?
there's so much unanswered about the sudden switch from his attitude as a child about alcohol to as an adult and i have a feeling it's because diluc associates it with grief. the taste of it, to him, is a face he cannot remember anymore, the features blurry with age, and a time he wishes he could forget, etched in blood.
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I'd probably have to read the printed version and web version back to back at some point to note all the differences but... ough
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