#lizzie rambles

[dearlizzies]

looking at myself in the mirror after reading smut

[spidergirl67]

how i look at my phone's screen reading angst near someone and having to hold back tears

[lizziesrambles]

currently thinking abt how the magneto origins script directly parallels charles to magda

[tumbleintomyheart]

i fear i never ever have been normal about anything i care about ever in my entire life it always just consumes me

[ejkreader]

What if tamlin could smell the emotions of plants

HEAR ME OUT-

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So you know the weird thing fae can do in ACOTAR? Smelling people's emotions/pheromones/whatever? I'm going to say for the sake of this that they can do this because they simply have an enhanced sense of smell, moreso than humans.

So, some fae could be born with the ability to "smell" everything more than others; they can pick up on the smallest of changes in a person's emotions, they can smell/sense people approaching from further away.

Now, is there something in ACOTAR about High Lords having a better sense of smell??? Probably not lol I haven't read the books in so long

BUT I'm saying that this is something Tamlin has always been able to do even before becoming High Lord. Tamlin grew up around plants, and in those years, he got used to taking care of them, and he's like. REALLY good at it. And obviously he would be, he's the high Lord's son- but his two brothers can't assess a plant's problem as quickly and effectively as he can. His brothers don't want to randomly hop off their horses to go check on the poppies they were riding past, the ones that Tamlin asks his brother to let him spend 10 minutes inspecting, and after lets himself be picked back up and put on the saddle infront of his brother, grinning happily.

And the thing is- Tamlin is six. Nobody really understands what he's doing when he goes and sits with the plants, sits, and seems to listen to harmonies none of them can hear. His family simply dismisses it as the regular antics of a child of his age, the ones befitting a High Lord's son.

And one day, his mother goes up and asks him why he's lingering around her favorite rosebushes. He replies, "They told me they were sad, mommy!" And she giggles, letting him babble about his little games. But later, when she goes to check on them- some of the branches is infested with fungi, and most of the plants need pruning.

She goes to him, brings him over and asks, "Is this what you meant, Tam?" And he points to it from behind her back, rubbing his nose and saying, "They're sad, mommy! They can't breathe!"

And anyways I think Tamlin has a really good sense of smell, so good that he can smell whenever a plant is infected, sick, when it needs water, when it's overgrown. And he can distinguish between all of those, each as different and easy for him to distinguish as Eris with his smokehounds.

And after Feyre and Lucien leave, he can still smell the rot in all his plants. He can smell it in his court, in Ianthe, in Dagdan and Brannagh, he can smell the fear in Bron and Hart; the disgust. And now he isn't pruning it. Because, really, now that he doesn't have a love, a friend, or a court to protect- what should he do it for? Himself?

Tamlin lets the infection spread in his court, but it's consuming him too- every day, the smell becomes more sickening, more suffocating- every day, there's lett oxygen for him to breathe.

The only things he still prunes are his mother's rose bushes.

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YEAHHH anyways

I needed to get this out of my head

Is this actually in acotar??? Who knows, I haven't actually read the books in so long now

Let it be known that I have no idea how old tamlin was when the war started

No Tamlin did not probably know Eris when he was six, that was me not being able to come up with a better metaphor

ANYWAYS

HOPE EVERYONE IS HAVING A GOOD DAY :D 💛💛💛

[hundredandsix]

✩ camp counselor au? ✩

✩ So...what do we think about a camp counselor au with Ellie? Except let's make it a Christian camp because I need my religious trauma to be useful for something.

✩ Maybe she's about to graduate, but her program requires volunteer hours, so she signs up to be a counselor at the camp and is honestly really pissed about it. But then she gets paired with you. She thinks you're this stuck-up, church-obsessed girl, but she doesn't know that your parents made you go and you hate it just as much as her.

✩ I can totally imagine her unintentionally ruining one of those dumb purity demonstrations. Like the teacher has someone lick a cupcake and then asks everyone in the room if they would eat it. It's supposed to demonstrate how "unpure" things are "undesirable," but Ellie is just so bored and wasn't paying attention. So she volunteers to eat the cupcake and doesn't understand why everyone is so taken aback.

✩ Imagine her telling stories to the kids around the campfire. She doesn't think they're that scary, but she ends up facing your wrath after three kids wake you up in the middle of the night from nightmares.

✩ Maybe a kid is acting up, and instead of accepting the consequence she gave him, he says that "a demon must have been inside of him" to try and get out of it. Ellie just stares at him because none of the training she did prepared her for that response.

✩ Her coming up with the most creative ways to discourage PDA.

✩ And of course, sneaking around with her because the stakes are even higher at this camp. Will this just be a summer fling or will you stay in touch?

I might write something full-length for this. Any ideas?

[stardust-dreamerr]

I hate how a lot of pro choice stuff I see is by radfems. Like I agree with the pro choice thing they’re posting, but I’m not gonna interact with it because I don’t want more of their posts on my dash, I disagree with their transphobic views

[lunchtimebedamned1997]

Fanfic Recommendations, Installment #1!

This is a long one! But even if you don't read all of my words here, you should definitely read theirs!

. ★.`.☆...☆.`.★ .

It feels as though it would be some sort of terrible crime not to highlight the most wonderful fic series that has been circulating its way through the Hazbin Hotel fandom over the last little stretch of time. Yes indeedy, I’m speaking of nothing other than the meteor shower series by spoondrifts on A03 (and ofc as @cringefailvox here on lovely tumblr!)

               This enthralling little series is currently comprised of two parts; time has changed the metaphor and its sequel, dragging its tail in the sea.

Herein we get the most delectable example of polyam, QPR, label-less goodness that I dare say there has been a gaping lack of up until now! (and if I am mistaken, I am happy to be so so wrong so long as you send all those good fics my way!!! My perceptions are fallible)

And who might make up the delightful QPR trio featured in this story? Why, none other than our most beloved Alastor, Rosie, and Vox!

I will admit to you, my dear reader, that I was skeptical of how this trio would function together. A fool, even. But the fanart (here for pt.1 fanart) (and here for pt.2 art) drew me in, it delighted me, and the writing, well, the writing simply blew me away.

How lovely it is to sit down and read such gorgeous, thoughtful, and perfectly complicated renditions of these characters. One that deeply explores the bounds of non-traditional connections, and the twisting, complicated ways we can come to find others in our hearts. Because it seems that even in hell, there can be things that make you feel foreign amongst your peers. That is, if you don’t let yourself be known.

The way Spoondrifts dives into the mentality of the three characters is such a joy to read that I scarcely think I have adequate words to express how exactly it is I feel.

To be Queer in any form is such a varied array of experiences, indescribably vast; and while labels can often be a freedom for some, especially as a place of belonging, or a reaffirmation of identity – or even simply that labels often act as a gateway to community and support – there are many that feel labels restrict them. That those labels are another set of rules they don’t fit neatly into, a chafing reminder of common-society’s boundaries in a place that is supposed to offer refuge.

This is precisely why many have embraced and reclaimed the word "queer" itself as a catch-all term for ‘outside the cis-het bubble’.

Yet, we often jump, especially in fiction, to labeling exactly who and what a character may be. Defining their relationships with immense detail, and fighting ruthlessly over canon vs. fanon vs. fanon-but-less-popular. Yet, here in this fanfic, we see a shining example of the complicated web of queer experiences. Of connection. Of love and care.

A refreshing lens to be sure.

It is a story that says ‘these characters are enough, as flawed and rotten and lovely as they are, and so are you.’ – and isn’t that the very crux of this fandom itself? Is the commentary on Christian religion and the people that claim to uphold it, not in and of itself a similar thing? A story that says ‘you can be terrible and wonderful. You can be awful and be loved. You can be different and be whole.’

In watching the series itself, there was something cathartic for me, too personal for me to write in too great of detail in the here and now. But it made me feel loved. It made me feel like even if I wasn’t perfect, I could still have worth. That I could make mistakes, and still be allowed the grace of second chances if I’m willing to learn and grow from any of the mistakes I'll inevitably make on this complicated journey of life. And so, so much more.

That is how this fanfiction made me feel. Loved. Warm. Safe. Free to be a mess of a human (because aren’t we all?). And still at the end of the day be worthy. To, someday, be loved and cared for in whatever ways I need. That none of us are too much or too little.

I’ve been straying away from labels myself over the years, knowing I fit into a few different nooks and crannies within our vast umbrella, but not quite vibing with a lot of the words anymore. Life is, after all, a journey of discovery; and I’d be a fool to say I know and understand all of myself when I’m not yet even 24 – and fics like this, this fic, made my chest ache in the way the thought of kissing a woman once did. Maybe there’s something there for me to discover, maybe there isn’t. Perhaps it’s just my neurodivergences and my queerness aligning into a desire - and deeply rooted fear - for being seen.

But regardless of how you do or don’t identify, I think anyone would feel a deep fondness for the bonds within this story – though if you align with any of it yourself, it may of course hit you even more profoundly.

The pacing of the story is beyond impeccable and it never once feels stuck in a ‘set of locations’. The world of the pride ring feels sprawling and alive within these words despite spending most of our time within Rosie’s domain.

The care and thought that was given to each character and their depictions - just, damn. Every action felt grounded, understandable for each individual character, and kept you wanting more of each and every bit. Elements of canon were woven into a beautiful tapestry of fanon that feels so real and so right, that if Viv said it was true in a parallel version of Hazbin-Hell, I would believe you in a heartbeat.

The three characters play off of each other beautifully and enticingly, without sacrificing an ounce of what makes them (particularly Al and Vox) ripe for a good ‘you fucking dumbass, get it through your head’ shoulder-shake.

I can’t say too much more without simply gushing over every sentence and ruining the experience for those who have not yet read it, but let me just say: wow. As well as: Thank you, Spoondrifts. What a lovely gift you’ve given us. Thank you for your words. For this exploration of relationships, and hearts that beat a little funny.