I’m Not A Big Fan Of Dali's Paintings, But The Way This Man Writes And His Sketches Are Much Better

Here is a model/contraption i created based around Haydens ring theory. This diagram has been heavily inspired by various old planetarium and astronomy diagrams i dug up. I wanted to create my own imaginary diagram of what this would look like, of course having the diagram designed for an earlier time. You may also notice hints of Etienne’s designs throughout, such as pinholes in the cenotaph from him memorial to Isaac newton :) Im not used go creating anything in such detail so i am quite pleased with the outcome, Enjoy :)

@mothercain <3

I’m gonna publish this Letterboxd review because omg this movie is so great and this review express specifically how I felt when I first saw it. The setting, the animation, the entire movie is just WOW

Angel’s egg reminds me alot of the Geneis song and I have no words to describe how the song makes me feel (This is said by someone who is not currently a big fan of Grimes, because the quality of his music has worsened a lot ) I know that Grimes takes inspiration from anime and her songs It seems to be taken from a technological world like this movie.

Probably the religious symbolism of the song reminds me of the movie, which also uses religious symbolism too to talk about philosophical themes but I don’t know.

I just feel the need to put into words this feeling. This need to talk about a movie hasn’t happen to me since I saw the movie Perfect Blue lol un películon también, tremenda fumada psicológica eso sí, pero de la buena y que Aronofsky consiguiera los derechos para hacer más tarde the black swan es lo mejor que pudo pasar, es que hola? Natalie Portman en esa película fue simplemente lo mejor de su carrera.

Angel's Egg (1985) dir. Mamoru Oshii

The Dignity of Suffering in Silence: Snape as the Ghost of a Living Man

Severus Snape did not need to die to become a ghost. He already was one. Not in the dramatic sense—with clanking chains or flickering transparency—but in the far more tragic way:

He was present, but unreachable. He moved through the world, but nothing ever touched him back.

Not because he refused it. But because somewhere along the line, he decided he did not deserve to be held.

🕯 What Makes a Ghost?

It isn’t death. It’s what remains unfinished. A ghost is a person who still has something left behind—grief, guilt, longing—and no place to lay it down.

Snape had no grave for what he lost. No funeral for who he could have been. So he kept walking. Teaching. Protecting. Bleeding in silence.

He became a ghost of himself, not because he was weak, but because he had to keep going with no one to grieve him. Not even himself.

🕯 The Cost of Being Unheld

No one held Severus Snape. Not really. He wasn’t touched unless it was violence. He wasn’t spoken to unless it was demand.

He offered no softness because he received none.

And yet—he still gave. Still protected. Still fought for a future that would never welcome him.

He didn’t ask for kindness, because he believed that to do so would be indulgent. And indulgence was for the living.

🕯 He Did Not Haunt Hogwarts. He Haunted Himself.

Snape didn’t linger in the castle’s shadows because he was sinister. He did it because it was the only place where silence matched the volume in his mind.

He wasn’t afraid of the dark. The dark was quiet. The dark didn’t ask questions.

What haunted him was the memory of what he had done. What he failed to undo.

Every corridor was a past echo. Every student a reflection of someone he couldn’t save. He didn’t haunt Hogwarts. He haunted himself.

🕯 Silence Wasn’t Weakness. It Was Power.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t beg. He didn’t unravel in front of anyone.

Not because he couldn’t. Because he wouldn’t.

Snape held himself together out of strategy and survival. Because silence was the one thing Voldemort couldn’t extract, and Dumbledore couldn’t reshape. Because when the world gives you no permission to break, you learn how to endure beautifully.

🕯 The One Who Was Never Laid to Rest

There was no funeral—at least, none that was ever spoken of. No public farewell. Only a war, and then silence.

His portrait hangs at Hogwarts now—but it came later. After the world had rewritten the narrative enough to let him in. And even then, he does not speak from it. Not to us.

Legacy? Perhaps. But it feels uncertain—etched more in hesitation than celebration. His name, his work, his memory... handled like something delicate. Or dangerous. Not erased, but folded away, as if too many feared what it might reveal if honoured too loudly.

Perhaps that’s why he still lingers. Not in ghost-form. Not in frame. But in us.

In the ones who understand silence. Who dress in layers. Who never screamed, but should have.

He does not ask for mourning.

But he deserves to be seen.

He deserves to be laid to rest.

Even if it’s just whispered in quiet posts. Even if it’s just here.

if anyone is interested in checking out the playlist me and my friend made for Severus here! :D

(btw I’m not that into music so don’t expect much ToT)

Lost dreams 2024. Photograms

My problem with Lily and James being seen as a super couple has nothing to do with Severus Snape but rather with the fact that when we look at the relationship between James and Lily through a feminist lens, it’s hard not to notice some pretty glaring issues that go beyond just whether or not they’re an “OTP” couple. Sure, on the surface it might seem like a story of two people finding love amid all the chaos, but scratch beneath the surface and you see a whole lot more about toxic masculinity, objectification, and the erasure of a woman’s agency. James is celebrated as this charming, rebellious “bad boy” with a roguish smile, while Lily gets stuck playing the role of the sacrificial, moral compass woman—someone who exists largely to balance out and even redeem the male narrative. And honestly, that’s a problem.

James is shown as this complex, active character who’s constantly surrounded by friends, enemies, and drama. His life is dynamic and full of choices—even if those choices sometimes involve manipulation and deceit. He’s the kind of guy who can easily slip out of confinement with his Invisibility Cloak, leaving Lily behind in a narrative that, over time, turns her into a background figure. This dynamic isn’t accidental; it’s reflective of how our culture often values male agency over female independence. Lily, on the other hand, is repeatedly reduced to her relationships with the men around her. Instead of being a person with her own dreams, opinions, and friendships, she becomes a symbol—a kind of emotional barometer for how “good” or “bad” a man is. Her character is used to validate the actions of others, which means her individuality gets smothered under the weight of a trope that’s all too common in literature: the idea that a woman’s worth is measured by her ability to tame or save a troubled man.

This isn’t just about a lack of depth in Lily’s character; it’s also about how her portrayal reinforces harmful gender norms. Lily is depicted as this kind of sacrificial mother figure—a person whose primary virtue is her selflessness, her willingness to suffer and sacrifice for the sake of others. While selflessness is often celebrated in women, it’s a double-edged sword when that selflessness is the only thing we see. Instead of having her own narrative, her role is defined by how much she gives up, not by what she contributes or the inner life she leads. And it’s not just a narrative oversight—it’s a reflection of a broader cultural pattern where women are expected to be nurturing, supportive, and ultimately secondary to the male characters who drive the action.

What’s even more frustrating is how Lily’s isolation is used to further the narrative of James’s redemption. Over time, we see Lily’s network of friends and her connections outside of James gradually disappear. It’s almost as if, once she falls in love, her entire world is meant to shrink around that relationship. And here’s where the feminist critique really kicks in: this isn’t a realistic depiction of a balanced, healthy relationship—it’s a story that subtly suggests that a woman’s fulfillment comes from being dependent on one man and his circle, rather than cultivating her own identity. Meanwhile, James continues to be portrayed as this larger-than-life figure who’s got a whole world beyond his romantic entanglement, a world filled with vibrant interactions, rivalries, and a legacy that extends beyond his relationship with Lily.

Another point worth mentioning is the way in which the narrative seems to excuse James’s less-than-stellar behavior. His manipulation, his lying, and his willingness to trick Lily into situations that serve his own interests are brushed off as quirks of a “bad boy” persona—a kind of charm that, in the end, makes him redeemable because Lily’s love is supposed to “tame” him. This kind of storytelling not only normalizes toxic masculinity but also puts an unfair burden on Lily. It’s like saying, “Look how amazing you are, you’re the only one who can fix him!” That’s a dangerous message because it implies that women are responsible for managing or even reforming male behavior, rather than holding men accountable for their own actions.

The imbalance in their character development is glaringly obvious when you compare how much more we learn about James versus how little we know about Lily. James is given room to be flawed, to grow, and to be complicated. His friendships, his rivalries, and even his mistakes are all part of what makes him a rounded character. Lily, however, is often just a name, a face in the background who exists mainly to serve as a counterpoint to James’s narrative. Her inner life, her ambitions, and her struggles are rarely explored in any meaningful way, leaving her as a one-dimensional character whose only real purpose is to highlight the moral journey of the man she loves.

It’s also important to recognize how this kind of narrative plays into broader cultural ideas about gender. When literature consistently portrays women as the quiet, isolated figures who are only valuable in relation to the men around them, it sends a message about what is expected of real-life women. It suggests that a woman’s worth is determined by how much she sacrifices or how well she can support a man, rather than by her own achievements or personality. This isn’t just a harmless trope—it contributes to a societal mindset that limits women’s potential and reinforces gender inequality. The way Lily is written reflects a kind of “tamed” femininity that’s supposed to be passive, supportive, and ultimately secondary to the active, adventurous masculinity that James represents.

At the heart of the issue is the lack of balance in their relationship as depicted in the texts. The idea that Lily “fell for” a man who was clearly not a paragon of virtue is problematic, but what’s even more problematic is how her role in the relationship is so narrowly defined. Rather than being seen as an independent character who makes choices and has her own voice, she is constantly portrayed as someone whose existence is meant to validate the male experience. Even when the texts mention that Lily had her own issues—like hating James at times or suffering because of the way their relationship unfolded—it’s always in a way that underlines her weakness compared to James’s dynamic, active presence.

Looking at the broader picture, it’s clear that this isn’t just about one fictional couple—it’s a reflection of how gender dynamics have long been skewed in literature. Male characters are given the freedom to be complex, flawed, and full of life, while female characters are often stuck in roles that don’t allow them to be fully realized. This isn’t to say that every story with a sacrificial female character is inherently bad, but it does mean that when a character like Lily is reduced to a mere symbol—a moral compass or a measure of male worth—it’s time to ask why and what that says about the society that produced that narrative.

So, what’s the way forward? For one, we need to start reimagining these relationships in a way that allows both partners to be fully fleshed out. Lily deserves to be more than just a side character or a moral benchmark; she should have her own narrative, her own dreams, and her own agency. And as much as it might be appealing to think of James as this redeemable rebel, it’s equally important to hold him accountable for the ways in which his behavior perpetuates harmful stereotypes about masculinity. A healthier narrative would be one in which both characters grow together, where mutual respect and equal agency are at the core of their relationship.

In the end, the story of James and Lily, as it stands, is a reminder of how deeply ingrained gender norms can shape the stories we tell. It’s a cautionary tale about the dangers of allowing toxic masculinity to go unchecked and of confining women to roles that don’t do justice to their full humanity. For anyone who’s ever felt frustrated by these imbalances, there’s hope in the idea of re-writing these narratives—of pushing for stories where both men and women are seen as complete, complex individuals. And really, that’s what literature should strive for: a reflection of the messy, beautiful, and often complicated reality of human relationships, where no one is just there to serve as a prop in someone else’s story.

Ultimately, if we can start imagining a world where characters like Lily aren’t just defined by their relationships to men, where their voices and stories are given as much weight as those of their male counterparts, then we can begin to chip away at the outdated tropes that have held us back for so long. It’s about time we celebrated the full spectrum of human experience—and that means giving women like Lily the space to shine on their own terms, without being constantly overshadowed by a “bad boy” narrative that has little to say about their true selves.

what is "FD"?

FD is “Forever Dawn."  It was the original sequel to Twilight (Before New Moon and Eclipse were written) and was what Breaking Dawn is based on.   From Stephenie Meyer’s website:

The basic story is the same. Bella and Edward get married and go to Isle Esme for their honeymoon. Bella gets pregnant with Renesmee. The birth just about kills Bella, but Edward makes her a vampire in time. Jacob imprints on Renesmee. Alice has a vision of the Volturi coming to destroy the Cullens with the "immortal child” as their excuse. Alice bails. Bella’s shielding abilities turn the tide in the Cullen’s favor, along with Alice bringing home another half-vampire to prove that Nessie isn’t a danger.

The things that are different:

Jacob and Bella are not nearly so close. None of the events of New Moon or Eclipse exist; Edward never leaves, so Bella and Jacob never bond. Jacob’s feelings for Bella remain at crush level.

Due in part to Jacob being a smaller character, the werewolf pack is only sketchily developed. It exists as a whole, but there isn’t much information about the individuals. Most of the wolves do not have names.

The entire story is written in Bella’s perspective. Because of this, there is a lot more emphasis on the pregnancy phase.

Jacob isn’t there at the delivery, naturally, so he imprints on Renesmee a few weeks later when Bella is visiting Charlie.

With no New Moon or Eclipse, Victoria and Laurent are both still alive. Laurent stays happily with Irina and sides with the Cullens in the confrontation with the Volturi. It is Victoria rather than Irina who informs on the Cullens to the Volturi. She creates a new friend, Riley, to make the actual accusation. She doesn’t want Aro to know about her agenda—or the fact that the baby is only half-vampire, of which she is aware.

The wolves kill Victoria. She is the only casualty at the final confrontation.

The last chapter ends the same way, but there is an epilogue. It involves Max (J. Jenk’s assistant). Bella’s initial interaction with him is a little bit longer and, feeling she owes him a favor, she gives him her number and tells him she will help him out in return if he ever needs a favor of his own. Max gets himself into some trouble, and Bella gets to play Superman.

Professor Remus Lupin on platform 9 ¾ before he boards the train to Hogwarts.

Lupin is one of my absolute favorite HP characters, so it was about time I drew him!<3

It seems like you somehow manage to have one foot in the marauders fandom and one in the snape fandom and I’m so impressed. How do you do it?

Also, since you get to see both sides of things I’m wondering what you like the most about each fandom?

Ok this is an interesting question! Honestly I think I’m able to do this, and do this enjoyably, because I really try to make an effort to not moralize. This hasn’t always been how I interacted with fiction in the past, so it’s been a tricky process of learning how to do this with consistency. But it is something that I think is very important for me to do, not only because I have a better time in fandom when I'm not moralizing, but also because it inspires a sort of self reflection and allows me to practice empathy in a way that’s feels more analytical than emotional/inherent. And in the case of navigating two fandoms that have a built in tension between them, this becomes especially helpful.

The tension between the snape and marauders fandom almost always comes down to moralizing. The back and forth arguments between fans are usually rooted in the idea that the other character is not only morally flawed, but more morally flawed than theirs. If you look at any anti Snape or anti James post there’s an underlying agenda that’s trying to prove one is worse than the other. This is pretty irritating to me because I find it to be very boring, silly, and just missing the point of the characters and themes. But this is also irritating because I find that it's ineffective in producing any real meaningful analysis on these characters. Because the goal is not to understand that character, but to condemn them.

(This doesn’t mean that I think you shouldn’t examine the behavior of the characters, just that assigning a moral judgment to that behavior outside the world of that character leads to heavily biased analysis (meaning making it personal and about your standard of morality leads to a messy understanding of the character and story))

Going back to the tension between these fandoms, I think when you’re busy trying to prove how shitty a fictional character is you have a hard time separating them from their fans. Because it’s not really about the character anymore it’s about you and your personal feelings and beliefs.

I very frequently run into posts talking about “snape defenders” and “marauders defenders”, like this is some kind of battle where a side needs to be picked, and then picking a side is a reflection of your morality and politics (I’ve seen marauders fans imply that “snape defenders” are fascists or fascist sympathizers and I’ve seen snape fans call marauders fans “class traitors”, all in the last couple days mind you).

I’m going to be honest and say that whenever this pops up it’s gets pretty frustrating, frustrating because it feels like people are just using these characters as avatars for larger discussions they actually want to be having, but because these characters have specific stories, motivations, and complexities it makes this extremely messy (want to vent about the cult of conservatism that's growing all around us? Bring out the Snape Ken doll and talk about how he deserved his bullying (if he even was bullied)! Hate feeling the weight of capitalism on your chest while the class divide grows larger and larger? Call James “bourgeois scum”!)

(Or as @sideprince wisely said, it’s a way to be political without actually engaging in politics)

So yes I find this tiring, but I also really get it. I have done some form of this myself plenty of times. I am not immune to moralizing or having these same type of strong emotional reactions to a fictional character. In fact, I had this very recently when I watched “Girls” for the first time last month. Until maybe this week I felt a strong hatred for the character “Adam”. This hatred came from seeing him do something in a scene that I considered to be morally repugnant. The scene itself was incredibly graphic and triggering to the point where I had to stop watching the show for a couple days. The disgust response firing in my brain made it so I was incapable of viewing his character as anything but a POS, and all the complexities of him were lost because I refused to engage with them. So all his actions after that were viewed with a moral judgement from me. I mean even when he was being funny, sweet, or just interesting I felt incredibly annoyed because I desperately didn’t want to like him. However I was cognizant of the fact that I was having this sort of moral reaction to fiction because this is a show that is defined by its complex, complicated, and realistic characters, who have all done some very questionable things, and yet he was the only character getting this treatment in my head. So feeling frustrated with my own hypocrisy I decided that I needed to start approaching this differently.

So I made a choice to look at his action, the one that I found disgusting, and start breaking it down: Why did he do that? What was it saying about his relation to shame, power, control, violence, sex, gender, etc.? How else has he reacted to those issues in the show? I kept asking those types of questions, on and on, until suddenly I wasn’t just thinking about the disgusting act itself, but the character. The act stopped being about my own feelings and trauma and became about him.

That’s what I do with the marauders and snape, that’s what I strive to do with any fictional character, because to me that’s the most enjoyable way to engage with fiction. And I find that the fun I have in fandom is greatly limited when I’m pissed at a character, because it makes it difficult to interact with others who are their fans. If I see that someone is playing with that character, a little voice would go, “but what about my anger?” followed by a sharp sting. That type of anger, that moral anger, is personal, but this character is public, it lives beyond me and my feelings. My anger is mine, it never belonged to the public.

And I have at some point felt that same type of moral disgust/anger for both the marauders and snape. But I zeroed in on what specific action was making me feel that way, tried to understand why I had that reaction in the first place, and then went back to the action itself and tried to contextualize it within the character and story so it was removed from myself.

That’s how I’ve been helping myself with the moralizing issue. I’ll still have these reactions in the future, I might even have one on here, but I'll keep working on it. Because either way I love all of these characters and I want to continue to be able to exist in both fandoms without having to choose a side, or even lean a certain way. When you're not trying to win the war on which character was the Shittiest™ the pressure turns off and you can just enjoy these multifaceted characters with their many flaws and many strengths.

And as for what I like most about each fandom: I adore the snapedom because I've always felt that the best meta in the entire hp fandom came from there. Honestly the whole reason I love snape so much wasn't because I ever felt particularly identified with him, but because I read a billion incredible metas and analyses about him and truly came to appreciate his complexities.

For the marauders side I think I really enjoy the camaraderie, there are a lot of really sweet and cool people I’ve talked to on here and that's always been a blast!