#Also as much as I hate to do it I must give myself credit

[infinitydivine]

Your next Glowup 🌷👀 PAC reading

Hello everyone, I am back again with a new PAC reading. Thank you all for loving my previous PAC, I appreciate it.

If you could, please leave feedback as comments, reblogs, or Asks. It helps me to improve myself.

Choose your pile intuitively. Take what resonates and leave the other things. If you think this reading is not for you then choose another pile. If still it doesn't resonate then this might not be your reading. There are three Piles.

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(pictures from Pinterest and collage made by me)

PILE 1- PILE2-PILE 3

PILE 1

Welcome my beautiful Pile 1 (●'◡'●)

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So for some of you, I see internal conflicts regarding yourself here. You guys tend to doubt yourself a lot...like really a lot. When giving yourself credit for your success, you always doubt whether you deserve it. My love, you deserve it and soon you will be entering into that energy. You will stop doubting yourself or something that will happen soon will make you do so. You are moving towards self confidence and you will definitely be successful in that. The universe is giving you the green signal to move forward. It is your time...rise and shine baby girl/boy. You are moving from the resilient energy to accepting yourself energy and there is no stopping you. You are on the ride of being yourself completely and honestly. There is no stopping you now. You are someone who might have had doubts about their physical appearance too? If you compare yourself to others especially online, Spirits are warning you to stop that. Your next glow-up is really very important for you to actually become who you are. If you are thinking about changing something about your physical; appearance or wardrobe, it is time to do that. Some of you might have had cases of bullying also because of that you might have hated yourself. But my love, it was not your fault. Your next glow-up includes your healing from that too.

"You have been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn't worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens"- Louise Hay

PILE 2

Welcome my beautiful Pile 2 (●'◡'●)

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Oh my my my!!! You have been through some serious situations in your life which might have felt shithole for you. Some people or situations have troubled you a lot in recent times but the good news is you are coming out of it successfully. Once you might have felt that you can't take it anymore or this is enough for you. But my love you are other with it. Your next glow-up is related to you being break free from everything and everyone that has been holding you back. Currently, you are going through some major transformations. Either it is you leaving some bad habits or some bad people who were not good for your mental, emotional, and Spiritual health. Some of you might also be going through a major Spiritual awakening. Upcoming time will be a major breakthrough for you. If you are betraying yourself by not being honest The Universe is nudging you to stop doing that immediately. You deserve to be happy and that happiness will be coming from inside you and if you are not completely and brutally honest with you then you might even delay your blessings too. If you are someone who struggles with people pleasing, leave it now. Your major theme of the next glow-up is letting things go that no longer serve you and you are gonna do that because there will be a time when you will realize how much time have you wasted on wrong things and people. The past is in the past. The future version of yourself is calling you.

I must be myself. I cannot break myself any longer for you, or you. If you can love me for what I am, we shall be the happier. If you cannot, I will still seek to deserve that you should.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

PILE 3

Welcome my beautiful Pile 3 (●'◡'●)

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Okay, so you guys are coming into an inner harmony of both the masculine and feminine energies. You are someone who might have struggled with the imbalance of both energies. Some of you might be too much into your masculine energies and some in feminine. Your next glow-up included you becoming a more balanced person. You will be loving yourself more and more. You are someone who might have struggled to stand up for yourself in the past but now you are learning and becoming someone who can and will take a stand for themselves no matter what the situation is. There is something about self-confidence here too. If you are not yet self-confident to do something, in future you will be. You are becoming the IT person. If you looked up to someone in your childhood or someone you admire now ...the Universe is telling me that you have all the qualities to become like them or better. You will have so much of self-love for yourself in the future it's heartwarming. Messages are coming from your inner child too but there are so many it is just impossible to write here. You are going to accept the demons and your shadow self too if you are afraid of them. They are part of you and you will love them as your theme of glow-up suggests.

(* This is an additional message- with 2 cups and the lovers being here, if you are looking for your soulmate/one true love, you might find them after going through this glow-up)

Love yourself first and everything else falls into line you really have to love yourself to get anything done in this world- Lucille Ball

Thank you for reading this :)

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#tarot #free tarot readings #tarot reading #tarot readings #astro observations #tarot cards #tarotista #free tarot #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #future spouse tarot reading #tarotblr #future spouse readings #tarot deck #future spouse reading #tarot card #daily tarot #pick a card readings #pick a card #paid tarot reading #pick a card reading #paid tarot readings #tarot pick a card #pick a card tarot #pac #future spouse tarot #tarot blog #paid tarot #tarot card reading

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-three

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: I forgot how much I hate slow burns. So we'll see how long it lasts. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13

A yawn fell from my lips as I snuggled deeper into the bed, a blanket wrapped around me like a cacoon to keep in the warmth. It was my first day off in four days and with the constant traveling; I was relishing being able to sleep in an actual bed. The bunks on the tour bus weren't terrible but with Bryan's snoring I was thankful for the quiet night of sleep ahead. The sun was setting, the orange glow painting over the walls of the room, and I only left the bed to go to the bathroom or grab my room service. The entire day was dreading tomorrow because that's when I had to send Lana her first paycheck and I was about three hundred dollars short.

My mom had been doing great, even remembering who I was when we talked on the phone. Something about hearing my voice but not seeing my face must have helped. It warmed my heart that we had conversations about things like we used too before she got sick.

I could explain to Lana the situation. I'm sure she would understand.

Somehow I doubted that which is why I was heavily researching my idea, wondering what the risks were and if the payout was worth it. Everyone online who had a page said they could pay for things they wouldn't have with a regular job. I would have my own rules and wouldn't worry about sharing it with a partner. I could post what I wanted whenever I wanted. The only risky thing would be someone recognizing me and with who I worked for, I wasn't completely sold on the idea yet.

"I don't have to show my face," I told myself as I sat up, deciding pretty hastily.

Desperation made people do drastic things and starting an Only Fans was my last resort; I had no other options.

The phone on my camera wouldn't do and I sucked in my bottom lip, wondering if what I was about to do was a good idea. I needed a better camera and set up while also having a credit card with a high enough limit, though it was for emergencies.

Isn't this one? Think of it as an investment.

Agreeing with the voice in my mind, I scrambled out of bed and quickly stepped into a pair of black sweats and hoodie to match. I cringed when I noticed myself in the mirror and made quick work to make myself look somewhat presentable.

The walk to the nearest store was only a few minutes, and I enjoyed the sounds of the hustle bustle of the city as people walked passed me, their own ideas for the night fueling them. I knew little about cameras and thought about asking Bryan some advice but knowing I might have to tell him why I needed one didn't sit well with me

As I was leaving the store, two bags in hand and $500 more in debt, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and when I read the message, I couldn't help but let out a groan.

Davis, yet again, was inviting me out to dinner tonight with him and the crew. I ignored his first two because I really had plans to lie in bed all day. Now, the only thing I wanted to do was get my profile set up and start posting so I could make money as soon as I could. Plus, Noah was avoiding me ever since the night of the first show when Jolly caught us together. Nothing happened but to Noah, it was as if they caught us fucking.

The thought caused a flush to creep to my cheeks as another text came in.

Davis: If money is an issue, it's on the crew tonight. The last few days have been crazy and we want a night out to relax.

It was true; every show this tour is sold out which made for a crazy night. Everyone in the band and crew were exhausted so a night out was something we all needed.

Me: I'm already out, where should I meet you guys?

Davis: there's this Mexican restaurant right around the block from the hotel. Meet in an hour?

Perfect amount of time to set up and record my first video. I never was a modest person, even if I never had a boyfriend. A few hookups here and there gave me some experience, but I also knew what my body liked, hence me bringing a few differnt kinds of toys with me. After the first tour, I realized how lonely I got out on the road.

I refused to prove Noah right I was only here to fuck someone; which was not true. But that didn't mean I couldn't think of a certain tattooed vocalist while I filmed, right?

An hour and fifteen minutes and red flushed cheeks later, I was practically running out of the hotel to make it in time to the restaurant. As usual, I was running late, but that was because it took me some time to figure out how to edit and post the video to my page. What I filmed wasn't exactly raunchy but just enough to keep people wanting to come back.

I was in a rush to get to the restaurant that I nearly missed the body that I collided in. Strong arms wrap around me to keep me steady as I looked up into those dark eyes that haunted me every second of every day. My heart fell deep into the pits of my stomach as embarrassment filled my veins, knowing that face was the reason for my orgasm less than an hour ago.

Noah gave me a look as slowly removed his arms from me, Jolly and Folio standing on either side of him.

"Where's the fire, angel?" He asked while drinking in the sight of me with a wide grin.

In my pussy.

He was wearing a grey sweater; the hood pulled up over his head and white hat. I cursed my vagina as it throbbed at the sight of him and my pet name.

"Uh, I was meeting Davis and others for dinner," I pointed behind me, stuttering over my words a bit.

Jolly smiled. "We're headed there too. Care if we walk with you?"

Him and Folio, not at all. Noah, yes I minded.

I didn't appreciate him acting different around me when we were alone as opposed to when people were around us.

"Nope," I smiled.

The four of us walked quietly to the restaurant with Folio next to me, Jolly and Noah behind us. Folio bumped his shoulder with me which made me peer up at him.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a while. Outside of work," he said.

I gave a half shrug. "Just been keeping to myself the last few days."

"Does that have anything to do with," Folio threw a thumb over his shoulder towards Noah.

"No," I said a little too quickly, afraid as if he could see in my mind what I had been doing back in my room. "I forgot how busy life on the road is, that's all."

"What did he do to make you avoid him?" he asked, seeing right through my lie.

This caused Noah to step closer to the two of us, forcing his way between Folio and I.

"I didn't do anything," Noah defended.

My body was still buzzing post orgasm so having him this close to made my stomach flutter and head hazy.

"Right," I muttered under my breath and gave myself some space from him, allowing Jolly to take my spot next to Noah.

"Did we do anything to put you off?" Jolly asked.

I shook my head. "No, not at all. Everyone has been nice. I meant what I said, I've just been tired."

Noah peered over at me past Jolly, something unreadable on his face, but said nothing while we turned the block, the restaurant coming into view. Davis, Byran, Matt, and Nick Ruffilo were already seated at a table outside as we walked up. My phone buzzed in my pocket and as I saw yet another notification from Only Fans, I didn't realize that the only open seat was next to Noah.

Cursing under my breath, I sat tentatively next to him and pocketed my phone, not wanting him to peak over my shoulder and see the notification.

I had a few new subscribers which meant people were paying for my content. Maybe soon things will start picking up and I wouldn't have to worry as much.

The server came over to take our order and I frowned at Matt as he ordered a pitcher of beer for all of us to share.

"Can I have a water and four chicken tacos please?" I asked with a smile.

"You don't want a beer?" Matt asked.

I shook my head. "I don't drink; well much anyway. I do for special occasions but not really feeling like it right now."

Noah muttered something under his breath, and my eyes snapped over to him.

"Care to share what you mumbling under your breath?"

"You seemed pretty into it last tour in Chicago," he didn't bother to look away from his phone.

I stared at him with my jaw slack, upset for him bringing up that night but also amazed that he remembered that. With the way his jaw ticked and his hand gripped around his phone, it was clear he thought of that night often. I got drunk after a show because the guy I'd been talking to all night and flirting with was actually married. His wife was the reason why he was at the show in the first place but decided to hang out at the merch booth instead.

"Is that why you're such a dick to me?" I wondered.

Thankfully, the server had left, so they didn't have to watch us bicker but for the rest of the guys at the table, it didn't save them.

"You guys get drunk all the time. The one night I did, you hold it against me? For what?" I snapped.

I wasn't yelling but the table next to us spared us a few glances of concern.

"We don't need someone to carry us from the venue to the hotel, three blocks," Noah finally met my gaze.

I scoffed, completely baffled this was why he was such an asshole towards me. Because I got drunk last tour and he had to carry me back to the hotel?

"You're fucking unbelievable, Noah." I shook my head and turned away from him.

If I wasn't starving, I would head back to the hotel. But I already ordered and didn't want my food to go to waste.

Folio, who was sitting on my other side, looked at me with sympathetic eyes and gave my knee a squeeze underneath the table. The rest of dinner passed by with Noah and I not speaking another word to each other while the others chatted amongst themselves. I ate my food and sipped at my water in peace, checking my phone every now and then to see if Lana had texted me back. It was almost eight in the evening, and I debated on wondering if it was too late to call to talk to my mom when my phone rang.

Excusing myself from the table, I walked down the block to answer the call. It was a fast phone call, my mom being too exhausted to talk. Instead, I caught up with Lana.

"Alright, well let me know how she is in the morning. I'll be in the bus for half of the day so I can talk with her," I sighed.

"I will, dear. She's so exhausted from today. I looked through some photo albums with her to help her remember but nothing. There was nothing in her eyes."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded even though Lana couldn't see.

"Yeah, those vacant eyes. It's been happening a lot lately."

There was a lot of rustling on Lana's end before her soft voice came through. "I promise you. She's in good hands. When she remembers things, we have a lot in common."

That made me smile.

"Good. And I'll send you the first payment tomorrow," I said much to my dismay.

"No rush, dear."

We talked for a few more minutes before I hung up, suddenly exhausted and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed for the rest of the night. When I returned to the table, I halted seeing that only Noah sat there. He heard me walk up and handed me my to go box of leftover food.

"The bill's been taking care of," he said.

I didn't meet his gaze, still upset with him, as I snatched the box out of his hand.

"Don't worry, I didn't flirt with anyone to get free food."

Noah sighed then pushed himself out of his chair, immediately towering over me.

"Do you always have to talk with such an attitude," he gritted out through clenched teeth.

I stood toe to toe with him. "Only for you, baby."

The pet name was supposed to come out as playful, no meaning behind it. But with the way Noah's eyes flashed and a low noise vibrated from his throat, I knew it had the opposite effect on him. His tongue rolled over his bottom lip and I wanted nothing more that to taste them.

"Can I walk you back to the hotel?" Noah asked.

Unbelievable.

"Oh, now that no one is around you act like you give a shit?" I snarled.

He raised his hands. "I'm trying to be nice, Y/N."

"Here's a piece of advice," I snatched my purse from the table, "If you want to be nice to me, stop doing it when we're alone. It makes me think you're embarrassed to be seen with me."

Noah's face fell and began shaking his head. "It's not that."

"Oh, right? It was because of that night in Chicago where you had to carry me back to the hotel. News flash, Noah. I didn't fucking ask you too. So do me a favor, unless it deals with work, don't talk to me the rest of the time were on tour."

Not bothering to listen to him come up with another excuse, I turned on my heels and stomped back towards the hotel.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

[howlingday]

swashbuckler au: weiss and jaune end up having a duel, and while weiss can't say he's the best swordsman she's ever faced she can say that he's the most adaptable fighting she's ever seen tldr: jaune pulls some jackie chan improvisation using the environment in unorthodox ways to win fights. slapstick action comedy ensues

Part 1

---------------------------------------------------

You know those awkward family dinners? The ones where the room is tense and feels like it's filled with gunpowder, and all it takes is just one word to set it all off? Yeah, those ones.

Well, Jaune usually felt that every dinner since taking up his father's mantle as the Hero of Aquadia. Tonight, however, was especially tense since the four people hired to hunt him down were also here, eating his mother's special occasion chicken and spice. Now there was heat to help the spark.

"Hah... Hah..." The girl in red huffed as she reached for her glass of milk.

"Is it too hot?" Mom asked. "I usually cut back when we entertain guests."

"My sister never really liked spicy food." Joked the older girl. "Dad used to joke they're the reason she drinks so much milk."

"You sure he wasn't just milking you for a laugh?" Jaune's dad pointed at her with his fork, receiving a fork-point back.

"Please, don't give her any material." The girl in white said with a sigh. Jaune couldn't explain what it was, but there was something about her that seemed... familiar. "Anyway, what exactly is our task in Aquafia? Beyond the scope of capturing this "folk hero" running around in the city?"

"He's not a folk hero."

...

The room was quiet at that. Everyone was staring at me. Why was everyone staring at me? Don't tell me I-

"Care to elaborate on that, Mr..?"

"A-Arc." Jaune gulped chicken. "Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, and rolls off the tongue. The ladies love it."

"Do they, though?" Ruby asked.

"Yes, do they, Jaune?" His father sneered with a sinister grin. Sometimes, Jaune hated his father.

"Please excuse my son's outburst." His mom stated, dabbing her lips with her napkin. "He's a fan of La Lama Lunga de la Aquadia."

"The who the what?" Ruby asked.

"The Longblade of Aquadia." Blake answered. "The hero we met in the street earlier."

"And failed to capture." Mother said over folded fingers. She wasn't happy. Trust me, I'm an expert at making Mom not happy.

"He's crafty." Yang replied. "Really gave us the slip in the harbor after that Grimm attack."

"Haha! Oh, I wish I could have seen that!" Jaune's heart swelled at his father's words, even if these girls were giving him too much credit.

"And the city thanks you for protecting her citizens from the Grimm." His mother tried to get the discussion back to the mission. "But in regard to your real task, you can discuss the details in full with my son and my husband. I try not to involve myself in these childish escapades of heroism."

Jaune sank a little at that. "Sit up straight!" Okay, he sank a lot at it, but could you blame him? His mom just called him, as fancy as possible, out as a child playing hero! Still, his dad was stillin his usual high spirits. Kinda made him wonder how she never caught Dad when he was La Lama Lunga.

"It seems weird, though," The young girl said, "that the mayor of Aquadia would want to capture the hero of her city."

"He's a relic of the past, Ms. Rose." Mother dabbed her lips as she stopd up. "And though we are grateful for his protection in ages past, we must look to the future. If we wish to establish good relations beyond Aquadia, we must prove that we do not rely on fairy tales for our protection, and certainly not on vigilantes, either."

"So to make Aquadia a viable trading partner and member of the kingdom, you want us to hunt down the city's only protector?" Blake asked with a raised brow.

"We have guardsmen and a militia of retired soldiers acting as our reserve defense." Circling the table like a shark, the mayor made her case. "If Aquadia can prove we are just as capable as the northern cities in Vale, then we can prove that we are not merely a tourist trap of a bygone age."

"Oof, politics." Dad said. "Think it's time I called it a night. This talk of fairy tales and whatnot is giving me indigestion."

"We should also head back." Ruby said. "Thank you for the meal, but now it's time for Team RWBY to get to work! Starting tonight!"

Jaune swallowed his chicken a little hard, and started coughing up spices. Everyone stared at him again.

"S-Sorry." He said. "Uh, wrong hole."

---------------------------------------------------

You know what the best part about being a hero in your city? The nighttime patrols. Just you, the chirping creatures of the night, and the pale moon shining into the caldera city at midnight. It's almost therapeutic.

Jaune understood what his mom was getting at, bringing the other cities closer to them by getting rid of the one aspect that separates Aquadia from everywhere else on Remnant. Kinda like how Mistral has that famous sport lady. Pyra, or something.

Still, he doubted she would be getting hunted down just so her city can build economic ties to the rest of the kingdom.

Coming from the docks where an old woman was saying her prayers in a window beneath him, Jaune kept being reminded of why he loves this city. The teenage kids sneaking around after curfew, the young lovers holding hands in gondola rides, the white glyph shining right in front of hi-

Wait a minute.

"Hold it right there, llama loonga!" The girl in white from before swiped her blade at him. Jaune barely had time to catch it as he brought his own blade to his defense.

"It's actually La Lama Lunga, princess." Jaune shoved her away.

"It's heiress, actually." The girl held a fencing position, and judging by her stance, she meant it.

This was bad for so many reasons.

First, this would be completely different from Grimm or rowdy thieving hooligans. He was fighting a genuine huntress, an actual fighter. What little he learned about them ws in one ear and out the other. What? Huntsmen just aren't as fascinating as La Lama Lunga.

Second, his opponent was not only a trained warrior, but she was actually trained in the same weapon as he was! And making this particular dilemma even worse was Jaune didn't know how to actually fence. Sure, he's got the basics from what his dad taught him, but this was a huntress with a semblance.

And that semblance was-

"Are you going to just stand there and stare at me while I arrest you?" She asked, getting closer. "If so, then by all means, continue."

Taking his own stance, he gulped. Come on... Remember what Dad taught you. 'If you ever find yourself outmatched, there's no shame in running.' Jaune took a step back. 'Unless your opponent is smaller than you, then you definitely should feel ashamed.' Jaune kept his feet planted.

She got closer. Oh crap, this really happening to him, isn't it? Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap-

"CRAP!" Jaune leapt out of the way of her thrust. He stepped on his back feet over and over until he caught himself on the edge of the rooftop.

Suddenly, nothing came to his mind. All of his father's lessons fell away as he realized this would be how he died. How the legend ended. He wanted to cry. He wanted to curl into a ball. But neither option was available. So instead...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" La Lama Lunga ran forward, swinging his blade wildly at the foreign girl. Fear filled her eyes as she backed away, unsure of how to respond! His movements were too sporadic, too unorthodox! She'd never seen a fighting style like this before!

Suddenly, he tripped and fell over, dropping his weapon. He rolled forward, almost falling over the edge. Reaching down, he grabbed a potted flower and tossed it at her. She ducked, narrowly missing a bruise, only to be forced on the backfoot by the vigilante once more when he grabbed his blade again. Then...

"AGH!" She fell off! Jaune ran over to the side and looked down, finding the girl landed safe and sound... into a compost heap.

---------------------------------------------------

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Yang couldn't stop laughing at breakfast, smashing her fist on the table.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!" Weiss screeched from inside the shower, on her third attempt to clean herself of the stench. "WHY WOULD THIS CITY EVEN NEED COMPOST?!"

"Apparently, the compost helps improve the soil development for the farms outside the caldera." Blake answered, reading the info pamphlet on compost provided. "The humid air compounded by the naturally occurring chemicals produced in the water make for an improved-"

"IT WAS RHETORICAL, BLAKE!"

"Jeez, this guy really is no joke." Ruby sighed. "Not only to escape all of us, but he managed to beat Weiss, too!"

"N... Not really that hard, Rubes." Yang breathed.

"SHUT UP, XIAO LONG!"

"But don't you worry." Yang pumped a thumb to herself. "With me and Blakey on the case, ain't no way sword boy is gonna last another night."

#rwby #la lama lunga au #rwby au #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #papa arc #mama arc

[comfortless]

may i please ask for your thoughts on each könig skin ^^

sure thing!

default: beautiful, 10000/10, the only one that i ever really use (if i feel like suffering through this awful game). rare for cod to come out with an operator that does not look like a lazily stitched version of three other characters but König…. there is so much detail from the makeshift hood right down to the intentionally missed belt loop. the abundance of gear and the fact that none of the colors clash in a way that isn’t appealing! the hood is such a nice touch, too… obviously stitched together by his own hands.

i can only imagine the frustration he must have felt trying to hand-stitch around the eye holes when every needle probably seemed far too small for him to use. ;; did he even think to use a thimble? probably not…

anonymous, blood soaked, and praetorian are more or less the same apart from a few small details. i love the camos on him and how praetorian just lacks the tear-streaks entirely. also, that name? insinuating that he’s a commander of some sort… <3

tricks & violator: where are the scare actor König thoughts for these specifically. he was born to be shoved in a corn maze or a house decked out in fake blood and limbs. they are not scary but… give him some credit for making the hood for the first himself! what did he use..? an old halloween t-shirt? fabric paint? it’s perfect.

grouping antibody and biohazard together, because my thoughts are the same: underwhelming… but it’s him..! they both get a pass.

expedition: this is the cutest skin in the entirety of the game. including everyone else’s. the silly bucket hat. the hood still on beneath the net. the gloves? he looks like he can not decide whether he’s planning for a trip to find some long-forgotten temple in the jungle, a solo fishing trip, or tending to a pretty garden.

desidia: every time i see this one i am reminded of @wordsbyvani’s moss person König thoughts. some benevolent higher power will one day bless you all with the lovely secret knowledge that she bestows me with.

arachnid: barking pawing howling whining sulking shaking like 🥛 that is all.

deep lord: see above. but also… you know marine horror is such a lovely genre to explore. coupled with the additions to this skin i think someone could put something perfect together with this in mind!

the wolf: the company of wolves… red riding hood… any werewolf movie ever… constantly associating him with anything big and canine after seeing this one. it is SO silly but i like to think that maybe… there are further hints about him/his personality in the little details of each skin (i am on the floor begging for crumbs).

ghillie monster: i have to be honest with you all this one is just not… for syl. most of his skins at least still resemble him in some capacity, but his gear makes even his body look different here! shelved for eternity i will never touch this.

sinister: i think you all can probably already guess my thoughts!! if not… sorry. i will not share them here.

vapor: i do not play cod mobile and this one is not enough to bring me to that level of suffering.

also!! i both love and hate this ask because i had to stop myself at each one to not… fall into writing some silly blurb or adding several things to my ever growing wip list… BUT i do think it would be fun to toy around with using his other skins in mind when writing him! ^^ much to think about….

[sophsicle]

Ooooh I saw you answer that question about writing advice and became curious: do you write “original” fiction as well as fanfiction? (love that for you either way). Love your fics btw. Kill Your Darlings is my absolute jam 🥰

I do yeah!

i don't really do anything with it but it does exist!

i shared the first chapter of one of them on here a while ago i think? i can't find the post now but i'll throw it down below if you're interested! Also thank you im so glad you like kyd!!!!

Ram

I think my father made the trees without mouths on purpose. For if they could talk, all of creation would know his secrets. Of course, in the end, perhaps it is better not to know. Kinder for him to keep us in the dark. Knowing is an anchor, it will drown you. That is why, on quiet days, you will hear the distant sounds of forests weeping. 

There’s a disturbance behind me. Nothing loud or startling—a slight rustle, a breath, the scrape of a leather boot. It is subtle and that is why I do not trust it. Never trust anything that is trying to be quiet. Without thinking my hand goes to my bow, an arrow in place by the time I turn around. 

Montoya laughs, holding his arms up, mocking me. He is dark, my brother, all the way through. 

“Scared, Ram?”  

I know instantly that I did not catch him. He wanted to be found. 

“No,” I answer flatly, “just prepared.” 

Montoya laughs again, bleeding an ease that I have never been able to find myself. Perhaps it is the sort of thing that comes with age. Though when you’re thousands of years old how much difference can a few centuries make?

“Your arms must be getting tired brother,” he says casually, and it is only then that I realize my weapon is still drawn. With reluctance I lower it, returning the arrow to the quiver on my back. 

“Why are you here?” this time I cannot hide my irritation.

“I could ask you the same question.”

I give him a flat look. Of all my siblings, Montoya has always made me the most ill at ease. There’s something about his eyes that leaves me wary. They are gapping holes that you swear will swallow you up and never set you free. 

“You are a terribly dull conversationalist Ram, has anyone ever told you that?” 

I don’t take the bait.

“Tsk tsk, what would father say about these manners huh? You’ve been spending too much time amongst the trees brother, you’re starting to turn into one.”

Not all my siblings can fly. My younger sister, Cartha, has gills instead of wings, and my brother Sye hates having his feet off the ground. But most of us, in some form or another, find ourselves in the sky. Montoya’s wings are large and crow like, hardly subtle or practical, but then, neither is he. Even now they create enough wind that I can feel myself fighting not to be pushed backwards. My own wings are small and white and sprout from my ankles.  

“Well,” I say finally, “if that’s all.” I turn my back on him, a dangerous move I’ll admit, though to his credit, Montoya has never attacked the family. He did, however, kill our sister’s cat once. 

I can hear him following me, hear the beating of his great wings. The noise grates my nerves. He is insufferable and there is nothing I can do about it. Sure, I could fight him, I’m good with a bow, but in truth, my brother is stronger. Besides, a fight is what he wants. It tickles him to make me angry. That’s his whole game. 

“Why so gloomy brother?” he asks, flipping onto his back as he pulls up beside me. I have never heard him be anything but taunting and cruel. I wonder if there was a time when he was not like this, but Hario assures me that there wasn’t and she is the oldest. Still, I find it hard to believe. After all, why would father create a son so hateful?

“I’m always gloomy,” I retort, keeping my gaze forward. 

It is spring, the sun setting and lighting the sky on fire with oranges and pinks. They reach out like fingers from the horizon, as if desperate to hold onto the day. 

“Well that is certainly true. Our melancholy little Ram,” he says in a baby voice that makes me want to spear him through the throat.  

“If I am melancholy what does that make you?” 

“Jolly?” 

I cannot help myself, I laugh. The idea that anyone would describe Montoya as jolly is too much for me.

“No, you’re right,” he says, sounding not at all offended. “Jolly is perhaps too dull a word, I am witty.” 

I look at him, brow arched. “Witty,” I repeat flatly. 

He grins, or perhaps sneers is more accurate. “Certainly wittier than you.” 

“Certainly.” 

“And our dear brothers and sisters.” 

“Certainly,” I repeat, though my jaw is clenched and my nails have begun burrowing into my palms. 

“I expect that is why father holds my opinion in such high regard.” 

“Not as high as Hario's.” The small flash of anger in his eyes is satisfying, though he maintains his smile. 

Hario is undeniably our father’s favourite. In truth, she is my favourite too. I have never been very good at getting close to people, but I have always felt comfortable around her. I can speak to her, tell her things in a way I can’t tell anyone else. 

“Not as high as Hario's,” Montoya repeats, the mockery from earlier melting away, revealing something much sharper. Much more dangerous. He might play at pettiness but I know that, in reality, he is far more sinister. “For now, anyway.” 

I stop abruptly, as though an invisible wall has suddenly appeared in my way. When Montoya finally stops too, turning to face me, I see a glint in his dark eyes. He’s won. Gotten the reaction he wanted. Snuck himself under my skin.  

“What is that supposed to mean?” I demand. 

“Ooh,” he is clearly enjoying himself, “have I hit a nerve?”

When he smiles I swear he has the teeth of a wolf, and in the setting sun they sparkle. I do not know why my father made him, why he poured all his ill will into this one creation and then named it son. A common misconception is that because there are gods there must also be demons. If I am the creator of all, my father always says, why would I create evil? Yet staring at Montoya now, at his black eyes, and pointed teeth, the sky ablaze behind him, I do not struggle to understand why the humans believe in a devil. 

“Do not make idle threats brother,” I say, attempting to keep my tone level. 

I’m playing right into his hands, I know, but I’ll not have Hario threatened. Not by anyone. He smirks, eyes running me slowly up and down before he moves forward, pausing just close enough that I can smell his breath.  

“I promise you,” his voice is so quiet it’s nearly carried away by the wind, “my threats are not idle.” He pauses, before laughing. “Brother.” 

His great wings flap, disturbing the trees below us as he flies higher in the sky.

“Father wishes you to know that he was much displeased that you missed his last banquet,” Montoya shouts as he continues to rise. “If I were you, I would not miss the next one.” 

I watch as he grows fainter and fainter, becoming nothing more than a black blip in the distance. I don’t move. I’m afraid that if I do the anger in me will unleash a hurricane. Quite literally. We are, all of us, me and my brothers and sisters, in possession of an affinity for one of the four elements: air, earth, water, fire. My element is air, Montoya and Hario both master fire. 

I force myself to take in several deep breaths, stretching out my hands which have cramped from being clenched so hard. There is a rage in me that I fear, I don’t know where it comes from or why it’s there, but it sits always in the corner of my chest. I have worked my whole life to suppress it, to keep it locked up inside me so that it can never hurt anyone else. Most of the time I succeed. But Montoya brings out the worst in me. 

I take another breath, the sun is almost gone now and the sky is navy blue and made of velvet. Slowly I start moving again, without really knowing where. I dip lower to the ground so that the tops of the trees brush my skin. I run my hands through them, they are cool now that the sunlight has fled. There shouldn’t be anyone out here to catch me, I’m miles from the nearest human site, but I keep a watchful eye on the ground anyway.

I have always hated my father’s banquets, even in my first days of life. There are too many beings, too much noise, and the way they all look at me…I take no pleasure in the power my father has given me, in the authority that comes with it. The other creations stare at us, or bow, offering up gold and wine and sometimes blood. I cringe at the thought. I have never once felt worthy of the deference they show us. In fact, it makes my skin prick and itch. I am not a leader or a ruler, I never have been. I prefer to watch from a far. In truth, I have always gotten the distinct impression that I am somewhat of a disappointment to my father. 

I close my eyes and drift for a moment, letting the air hold me like a pair of arms, cradling me in the night sky. There is sweat covering my skin, it drips slowly down my arms and legs and the side of my face, sending shivers across my bones. I breathe in again, slowly, listening to my heartbeat, to the expansion of the lungs in my chest. Somewhere a dog howls and a bird cries out. Their voices are faded by distance but they linger long after they are let loose. Hanging in the air just like me. This is where I am happiest, alone in the dark.

This is where I belong.

Edward

I don’t know if my mother ever loved my father. I don’t know how she could have. But I suppose, ultimately, it’s of little consequence. She brought with her a dowry too good to refuse, one which provided the Kingdom of Presado with enough ships and gold that it could boast of having the largest naval force this side of the world. And in return, her people gained the loyalty of my grandfather, one of the greatest military commanders alive, an excellent ally. Love was hardly considered. It never is. You cannot win a war with love, you cannot build palaces or feed hungry mouths with love. So why do we persist in the belief that it is so very important to our happiness? Why do we speak of it in the context of marriage and family when we know that it is so rarely present in either of those establishments? 

I don’t know if my mother ever loved my father. But I know that I certainly didn’t. 

I usually don’t bother with such thoughts but, staring at my own wedding contract, I find them hard to avoid. They say she is beautiful, the princess who is soon to be my wife, but then, they always say that. What use have I for a beautiful wife anyway? Mistresses are chosen for their beauty, I would rather my wife be clever. 

“She’s not a fanatic is she?” I ask my advisor, Rufus, as I look up from the pages in front of me for the first time in ages. My mother laughs and I meet her eye, grinning. Rufus simply looks startled. He’s a small man, with tuffs of hair coming out of his mostly bald head, and eyes that protrude so far from his face you fear they will fall onto the floor. He is wildly clever though. He was significantly under valued by my father, probably because he is in possession of a conscience. Skittish and odd he might be, but his loyalty lies firmly with the realm. A rarity, I have found. 

“A fanatic, your Majesty?” he squeaks. “What-er-what do you mean?” 

“Oh you know,” I wave my hand impatiently. “The type who never drinks or dances or laughs. Who always has their knees bent before some alter or another. Who cannot breathe without fearing for our souls.” 

My mother is shaking her head. As a child I loved to make her laugh. It was not a difficult task, my mother, for all her heartache, is a woman with a happy disposition. 

Rufus blinks his great eyes at me. “As far as I’m aware, sire, she possesses a perfectly…adequate…level of piety.” He looks to my mother for help but finds none. 

“You are going to be the death of him, Edward,” she says instead. 

My grin widens. “Come now, it was a fair question was it not?” I turn to Rufus knowing full well that he will splutter, unsure of what to say. And he does just that. “I don’t want to be stuck with a bore now do I?” 

“There are slightly more important factors to consider here my son, as I’m sure you are aware.” 

I am. Painfully so. I must marry Princess Analeigh whether she is a humourless hag or not. As with my mother and father, the alliance is a good one, and we are too weak to survive without it right now. Still, knowing all this, I cannot help but hesitate, especially when I see my father’s handwriting on the pages before me. He orchestrated the match, wrote most of the contract himself. But however unconcerned I may appear on the outside, I have spent hours pouring over these words and, grudgingly, I can find no fault in them. 

I sigh, resigned, stretching out my hand and dipping my quill in ink. 

“You’ll sign?” Rufus sounds half-relieved and half-shocked. Clearly he expected me to be more trouble. I try to hide my amusement. I know that my reputation is that of a scoundrel. A spoiled youth who drinks and gambles and whores. They think me ignorant. They think me incapable—the great men who have gathered in this court over the years. I don’t mind. Let them underestimate me. It will make it all the easier to knock them down.

My hand hovers over the parchment, the quill threatening to drip. I look back up at my mother, she is all in black, in mourning. It doesn’t suit her. Even in death my father is controlling us. What we wear. Who we marry. 

“This is the last time,” I don’t know why I say it out loud. I suppose to make the promise feel more real. He will not pull our strings again.

“The last time, your majesty?” Rufus asks, looking between us in utter confusion. 

My attention is not on him though, my eyes locked with my mother’s. She does not even flinch. 

“Yes,” she says, knowingly. “The last time.” 

I nod, returning to the contract while Rufus’s distress continues to mount. He has missed something, he knows it, and he does not like it. Finally, I let the quill touch the parchment, my hand moving swiftly along the familiar path of my name. 

“There,” I say, feeling the opposite of relief as I lean back in my chair and push it away from me. “It’s done.” 

Not my best line, I’ll admit it, and not even true. This is only the beginning. For a moment I think I catch a glimpse of my father hovering in the corner of the room—just the tail of his robes as he storms out the door, followed by the grizzled noise of his laugh. In my memories he is always old—old and bitter. I swallow, blinking the ghost out of my eyes as I sit up straighter. I do not know if I will make a better king, but gods, I hope I make a better man. 

“Excellent,” Rufus mutters, gathering up the papers. “Excellent, excellent, I’ll deliver these to the envoy and then things can proceed.” He slides from the wooden chair, the table nearly as high as his chest and when he bows his upper half disappears completely. 

“Your majesty,” he says as he re-emerges, “with your leave…” he looks towards the door. 

“Yes, of course, go about your business Rufus.” He starts backing away before the words are even fully out of my mouth, moving so quickly that I am shocked he does not trip. After the door closes we sit in silence, my mother with her eyes on me and me with my eyes on the far wall. 

“You look worried.” 

I snort. “Do I? Oh dear, I hope I don’t start to wrinkle.” 

She smiles, but I can tell she will not be so easily placated. “Edward?” 

“Mother.” 

She arches her brow, she has the incredible ability to look at you so thoroughly you feel your skin has been taken off and your insides entirely exposed. 

I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I rise and move towards the window. It is beautiful today—spring has come and the gardens are in full bloom. How I wish I was out hunting instead of caged up in here signing away my life. 

“The church will not be happy,” I say finally. 

“The church?” my mother responds after a brief pause, “Or Addison?”

“Is there a difference?” 

Another pause. I bring my finger up to the glass and begin to trace along the lines. My family’s crest has been meticulously woven through every inch of the palace, the windows no exception. 

“He agreed to the match,” my mother says finally. 

“Yes, but he will not be pleased that I signed it without him.” 

“No,” and I think I hear the slightest hint of amusement in her voice, “he will not.” 

In the last few years of his life, my father had a change of heart in terms of religion. Since before memory the people of Presado have prayed to the Solistic Church. A religion which believes the world was created by four gods who were masters of the elements. Ignis was always my favourite, the god of fire, who watched over battles and was considered the most clever of the four. I still pray to him, though my father’s laws forbid it. The laws that are now my own. 

The trouble really began with his last campaign in the North where a large clan of nomads have claimed territory. My father dreamed of being a conquerer King, dreamed of reclaiming the deserted northern territories from the barbarians. But this turned out to be far more difficult than he expected. 

He returned from the first campaign with only a third of his men, most of whom were injured. Things did not improve from there. After five years of loses and increased violence on the border—for the nomads had begun burning the keeps of the northern lords in retaliation—the nobles pushed back. We’re done, they declared, we will send you no more support, no more troops, no more gold. They were not willing to be wiped out for the sake of one man’s glory. Even if that man was the king. 

My father responded in the only way he knew how—with violence. Executions. Most heavily levied in the North, for they were the loudest denouncers of the war, being the ones closest to the fighting. There was peace with the nomads before, the would argue, can we not return to that? So, of course, my father hung their commanders, their sons, and, sometimes, the lords themselves. In truth, we were on the brink of a civil war when Addison appeared. No one is quite sure where he came from, there had been whispers for a few years about a counter religion but no one put much store in it. Then one day he was here, at my father’s side. He promised men and money, all he wanted in return was a reformation. My father agreed. After all, what had the old gods done for him?

“Edward?” 

I jump at the sound of my name, but I don’t turn around. My fingers still pressed to the glass in front of me, through the coloured panes I can just make out the green grass and manicured trees. 

“Mother.” 

I know the face she’s making even without looking at her. Calm, refined, but with worry in her eyes. And sadness. I sometimes wonder if he put that there, my father, if before him she was all light. I hope that now that he’s gone she will be again. 

“You cannot solve all the worlds problems in a single afternoon my son.” 

I nod as I hear her rise, feel her hand squeeze my shoulder as she passes by on her way to the door. 

“I’m not trying to solve the world’s problems,” I say as I hear it close, “just ours.” 

#soph rambles #writing

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[6:31 pm]

(cw: i said asshole and douche bag)

BestFriend!Jaehyun wished it hadn’t taken you going on yet another horrible date for him to come to his senses, to realize that he didn’t just love you in a platonic sense, but also a romantic sense.

He wished his heart didn’t stop at the sight of you every morning, that his heart didn’t flutter when you hugged him, that he could properly handle his feelings so he could stop torturing himself every time you ranted about your terrible dates.

You stomped out of your room, dressed in your comfy clothes, “Is it too much to want some flowers? I feel like I dress up, I go to these restaurants, make conversation, offer to pay for food and play nice- don’t I deserve some flowers for at least putting myself out there? They don’t even have to be super nice.”

“None of your dates have given you flowers? Isn’t that like rule number 1 for a first date?”

“Jaehyun, we’ve known each other half our lives and lived together for this long have you seen me get flowers?” You questioned.

Jaehyun hated that this conversation from days ago was stuck in his brain, that some asshole from your mediocre date was going to push him to make a move. He didn’t want to credit your date with his confession, for his jealousy to be what pushed him to change the friendship. He gave it a lot of thought for a couple of days, worst case scenario you say no, best case you say yes. If everything worked in his favor, you could both figure out the next step together.

A day later you stood in the kitchen making dinner after work when the door finally opened to reveal your best friend. The tips of his ears were red and he couldn’t even look you in the eye as he thrust a bouquet bouquet of flowers into your arms.

“Did you want me to put these in the fridge for you? You got a date later?” You questioned with a raised brow.

Jaehyun took a deep breath, “They’re for you. I had the florist at the shop put together an arrangement to help me confess. I forgot what she said all the flowers mean, I was too nervous to give her my full attention, but I like you. I might even love you and I hate that it took you dating a bunch of douche bags to make me realize that. You deserve someone who gets you flowers when they think of you, someone who knows what you like, who’ll make you happy. I want to be that person for you.”

“Are you asking me out right now Jeong Jaehyun?” You asked teasingly. You avoided his eyes in favor of staring at the bouquet in your arms, the first bouquet you had ever gotten from anybody.

He threw his hands up and sighed, “Yes! I didn’t think you would take this as an opportunity to tease me. I can’t believe you do this daily and I still like you!”

“Well, you said you love me, so you must really like when I tease you.”

“Are you saying yes or no? I just poured my heart out to you,” Jaehyun replied, he was nervous and rambling. You didn’t think it was possible but his ears got even redder.

You placed a kiss on his cheek, effectively calming him down. He froze the red filling his face, “Of course I’m saying yes Jaehyun. Now, do you know if we have vases for my first ever bouquet of flowers from my best friend who I’ve had a crush on for years?”

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #jaehyun scenarios #Jaehyun blurbs #jaehyun fic #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun timestamps #jaehyun x reader

[saintsenara]

If Voldemort had lived to raise delphini with or without Bella what kind of dad would he be?

thank you very much for the ask, anon! especially because i am always happy to receive opportunities to out myself as a delphini truther...

but what i am not - i must say - is a voldemort-is-a-good-dad truther. if he had lived to raise delphini... well then hopefully the ministry in this voldemort wins au ends up bringing in enough money by the time he’s been in power for fifteen or so years that he can afford to pay for his daughter’s therapy.

i don’t, though, think that this is because he’d be a total deadbeat. as i’ve said elsewhere, my personal view is that delphini is conceived naturally and accidentally (i know lots of people like the idea of her being created for some sort of nefarious purpose, but i much prefer lord voldemort fucking around and finding out that even his weird body isn't immune to human biology), but i do think that voldemort’s quite profound sense of honour means that he would acknowledge that she was his and that he wouldn’t go against bellatrix’s wishes not to terminate the pregnancy (although, let’s be clear, he definitely tells her to) by giving her an abortifacient without her consent.

but i don’t think that this acceptance of her existence means that he’s ever involved in her life in any significant capacity. my personal view is always that delphini is raised by someone else. in my writing, i usually make this rodolphus - whether he’s doing this alongside his wife or not - and have voldemort flit in and out of her life on his own terms.

[this, i think, is a reasonable manifestation of something i can imagine him believing - that his daughter should not grow up as an orphan - which doesn’t require him to become someone who would want to spend any time with a small child. remember, he hates them! he can’t hear babies crying without becoming incandescent with rage! he’s so attention-starved that he can’t spare anything of himself for the attention a child requires!]

and, let’s all be honest, this arrangement will be a lot healthier than the alternative. which, given that rodolphus is a war criminal, is really saying something about voldemort…

i think, for her part, that bellatrix would recognise that any attempt to make him into a doting father is probably ending with her back in azkaban, and that her relationship with him would exist completely separately from either of their relationships with delphini. they are not doing anything as a family, at least not while delphini’s too small to be left to her own devices.

my controversial opinion, though? in this role as - essentially - delphini’s family friend, he’ll be fine. voldemort must have some incidental idea of how to look after children, as someone raised around a constant procession of them, and would, i think, be perfectly capable of spending time in his daughter’s company without her starving to death. i think he would be terrible at any of the sort of moral education or emotional support that a parent is supposed to provide, but that he would be excellent at talking to delphini like she’s a tiny adult (something which children love!). voldemort is clearly somebody who does - canonically - have interests beyond terrorism, and i can easily imagine delphini developing a series of slightly odd hobbies as a result of their conversations. he’s also, canonically, far funnier than he’s given credit for, and i’m sure there are a fair few anti-rodolphus jokes being workshopped in parseltongue between the two of them and nagini during his visits. while he is likely to be quite strict - and to have expectations about behaviour, such as being quiet and not sticky, that a small child is likely to find impossible to meet - he is canonically never violent towards bellatrix, and i can’t see him being an abusive parent.

i also think that the fact that voldemort isn’t someone who’s concerned by class or gender conventions would lead - accidentally, but it would still be there - to delphini having a happier childhood than her mother or aunts. voldemort isn’t going to insist on her marrying the second she leaves school, or think that there would be something wrong with her getting a job, and he’s so terrifying that rodolphus isn’t going to try and contradict him. he is also someone who clearly thinks that the desire to make your own life outside of these conventions is valuable - something which, as i’ve written a lot about, is clearly one of the reasons he likes bellatrix - and he’d put up with any of delphini’s various schemes and plans unless they gave him the impression that she’d inherited the father-killing gene…

[i am, though, wedded to the idea that something she definitely inherits is literally every single riddle feature - despite whatever is going on in her description in cursed child and despite the fact that most fanon seems to have her look like bellatrix. i just think the concept of those muggle genes being strong is very funny. voldemort doesn’t care - after all, he’s aware that being a hottie opens doors - but i do think that he would struggle with her being less clever or interested in magic than him.]

[and he’ll collapse dead to the floor if she’s not in slytherin. cue the order of the phoenix trying to work out if the sorting hat takes bribes.]

#asenora meta #tom riddle #lord voldemort #delphini riddle #i am a delphini stan account #regrettably #asks answered

[petrichorium]

on plagiarism

when all of this began, i confess i never imagined i'd be involved this closely. i've been a bit on the fringe of it, with many mutuals involved and my own name dragged into the fray briefly but ultimately trying to keep my distance. but in a brief moment of curiosity (or weakness, perhaps) i let myself do some digging and discovered that i, too, was plagiarized by a former mutual whose work i admired greatly.

one of the most beautiful things about this community is how collaborative it is. we are a group of people with mutual interests who found each other on the vast sprawl of the internet, and our creativity is something which grows as a result of each of us working together. the kind of plagiarism i discuss today is hard to spot, easy to dismiss, and above all else painful for the victims. it is difficult to express how nauseating it feels to see someone take an idea and run with it without permission, consideration, or credit, all while it remains so subtle that you feel nobody will believe you.

Plagiarism, by definition, is "to steal and pass off the ideas or words of another as one's own; to use another's production without crediting the source; to commit literary theft; to present as new and original an idea or product derived from an existing source" (from merriam-webster, because wouldn't it be ironic if i didn't clarify?). Note, please, the use of "idea." Nobody is fool enough to think plagiarism must be exact 1:1 wording. If you're claiming that, you're very certainly being purposefully obtuse.

the evidence i present below is clear, in my opinion. i'm not going to leave names out of it—the accused has already outed herself and has claimed to have left her blog, so I have no reason to coddle her, and equally there is no sense in reporting or engaging with it in any way. it shouldn't have to be said, but don't harass her; whether or not her blog is truly abandoned, any asks could still make it to her. Obviously sending harassment at any time is childish, cruel, and reprehensible, and nobody is deserving of it.

The plagiarist is @/shiinleaf. there is another player in this game, @/seoafin, who also fell victim to the same scenario twice. seoafin made her own callout post (politely lacking in names) and shiinleaf made her own response, both of which I will link now.

[seoafin's post regarding plagiarism]

[shiinleaf’s response in defense]

I also want to say, to be honest, I wouldn't give much of a damn about this if not for the context. i wrote a one sentence textpost and shiinleaf made her own imitation a week later, then elaborated upon it. the single sentence (and a few tags) is all that i provided; while the lack of interaction and credit hurt, i wouldn't much care...

if not for seoafin's experiences. make no mistake, my evidence here is intended to support hers; to bolster her arguments and to provide further proof of shiinleaf's actions. While her claims might be subtle, my own are more blatant, and help to establish a clear pattern of behavior which is neither respectful nor considerate of fellow authors. This is further proven by the hate that seoafin received for speaking up—the very reason I’m choosing to come forward. While the initial crime might be something unworthy of speaking about publicly, I won’t stand by while a fellow victim is harassed and gaslit in her own askbox.

anyway. im done grandstanding. I have screenshots and links so let's get into this.

i preface this by saying that while i was vaguely aware of this situation—as i was up until recently mutuals with shiinleaf (xin) and only mutuals-in-law with seoafin (morgan) and, thus, friends with many people with full knowledge of and involved in the entire debacle—i largely made an effort to keep out of the situation, despite (in a situation which i really can't get into) my name being dragged into it in private, resulting in me soft blocking xin.

my interest was reignited last evening, however, after many vague posts by mutuals which made me check shiinleaf's blog out of curiosity. i saw that xin had gone through and reblogged nearly all of her old writing, and near the top a post caught my eye.

the post was a brief textpost about the honkai: star rail character Jing Yuan, later elaborated upon in a followup reblog. This had been posted in July, and something about the phrasing and the timestamp made me pause.

I have made a few posts in the past about characters who "like brats," specifically not "to tame." I remembered making one about Jing Yuan many months ago. So, I went digging in my blog's archive, and sure enough I found it.

Here are the two initial posts side-by-side. My post is dated July 19th at 11:37pm. Xin's is dated almost exactly a week later, July 27th at 5:13am. Additionally, I've provided a screenshot of the first sentence of the followup reblog; note the specific usage of "brats"/"bratty", "not taming," and "likes the chase."

[link to xin's initial post] [link to xin's follow-up reblog]

[link to my post]

As the final nail in the coffin, here is a video of my post with proof that Xin saw it: she gave it a like. Note that this post was reblogged once and had only six likes; it wasn't a popular post whatsoever.

Finally, an interesting thing to note (though not altogether suspicious) is that xin states in the tags of her followup reblog that she has written a "7k word fic" about the concept discussed. She later states in a reblog from the 23rd that this fic was her fic Filler, one which she also has stated that she began on the 19th of July—the same day as my initial post. These coincidences, unfortunately, only keep adding up.

[link to xin's recent reblog of the plagiarized post]

[link to xin's recent reblog of Filler]

(note: the precise timeline of Filler does not line up exactly with the premise that it was created solely due to my post; the screenshots provided of the fic's document predate my own post by many hours. However, I am not claiming that the entire fic is based upon my post. That would be absurd, it's literally one sentence and a few tags. By xin's own admission, however, the fic was based upon many things including the premise potentially provided by myself—it is entirely within the realm of plausibility for her to have begun Filler and allowed my post to impact her writing of it, especially seeing as she, without a doubt, saw my post within hours of beginning the fic)

Now, I'd like to make myself perfectly clear here. This incident, were it isolated, would not make me call someone out. I understand that this community is full of authors inspiring one another. My post was a brief, fleeting idea which I did not elaborate upon; what she potentially did with that idea, to be frank, was absolutely phenomenal, and I am by no means whatsoever taking credit for ANYTHING beyond my initial post. Xin has stated that Filler in particular was a deeply personal fic for her, based upon her cultural and familial experiences—I would never dream of taking away from that. I think it's a fic that she should be proud of, and frankly I’d feel honored if I played any part in its creation.

However, it is abundantly clear in my opinion (from the fact that my post was liked, from the evident timeline, and from my own wording being ripped almost exactly) that xin drew inspiration from me and made no effort to give me the proper credit. This was not collaboration but rather a purposeful choice to use my own idea as a jumping off point and pass it off as her own. We weren't mutuals at the time, but I had seen her in my notifs frequently; had she added to my post, I would have been delighted. And my dms are also open, if she had been concerned about my response she could have asked me for permission. Unfortunately, she did neither of those things, and so here we are.

More importantly, however, I come forward with this—as stated initially—with the intent to defend seoafin (morgan), who came forward with her own post regarding xin's plagiarism. [morgan's post linked here again] please note that morgan took care not to mention xin, her blog, or directly link any xin's relevant fics. However, my own experience only bolsters the credibility of morgan's accusations. Once again, i wouldn't be coming forward if i were the only victim, but morgan has been inundated with asks since she made the accusation and i found it vital to support her claims. From vitriolic harassment to gaslighting to death threats, the response to morgan's post has been troubling, and i (futilely, im sure) hope that my own post will put an end to this. a clearly established pattern has been shown—three instances among two different authors of xin taking inspiration without credit—and i think it's fair to say that my evidence is solid.

i'll leave with another soapbox paragraph to match the beginning. up until this incident... i had been mutuals with xin. i had seen her in my notifs for months before i followed back, including when she chose to steal my idea. i held great respect for her work; i considered her a very talented author, and to an extent I still do—I genuinely can’t emphasize enough that I’m sure hardly a fraction of my impact potentially made it into Filler, and it remains one of my favorite Jing Yuan fics out there. my heart aches at how this turned out, not simply for her plagiarism but for her actions since she was found out. I simply can’t wrap my head around everything that’s transpired these past few weeks.

thank you all reading. i hope i didn't drag on too long. im done now i promise 🫶🏻

#damn. cant believe I’m making my first callout post #we r reaching milestones at record place on this blog #but only the worst ones #n e way. written last night but scheduled for this morning 🫶🏻

[nbyue]

UIS Chapter 2

June 1st, 20XX

It's been at least 3 hours since I, Father, and Mother have been set free from that... uncomfortable ink scroll, and after a questionable time at the beach, the newdle boy has given me a gift. I am currently writing in it. THE GREAT RED SON DOES NOT NEED A PERSONAL DIARY!!!! Although the cover is pretty nice. It's made of leather, and very nice to the touch....Perhaps the newdle boy has SOME taste after all. Hopefully my parents do not find this I will hide it under my bed tonight.

Anyway it's quite nice to be back in the fortress, I have already missed this old thing. I'm glad to see none of my inventions have been stolen by those pesky mortals as well for their """ world saving """ nonsense. BAH! We can do better! But I do applaud that newdle boy for saving the world, hell, even the ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!! I still hate him though.. I am supposed to hate him, as Father and Mother said so...

Speaking of which, they have been acting odd lately I hope they are okay. Probably side effects from being in that lousy scroll. WE WILL BE BACK TO POWER IN NO TIME!!! >:)

June 2nd, 20XX

Another day in the realm of greatness, and I, Red Son, shall document it for posterity. This diary, a gift from that insignificant newdle boy, was under my bed, and Father and Mother have barely noticed it! MWAHAHA! Maybe I should use this for writing down my inventions... YES YES! PERFECT! Is this lavaproof? May have to test later during my bath.

I must admit the newdle boy's gift is growing on me. The leather cover does have a certain charm, even if it's a bit cheap-feeling for my taste. But I'll give credit where it's due; he does have a knack for surprises. Doesn't mean I'll stop plotting his downfall though it's a matter of principle you see.

Speaking of the newdle boy, I cannot shake the feeling of begrudging respect for his foolish actions, no matter how much I despise him. These actions may have saved the universe, nut mark my words I shall reclaim our rightful place atop the cosmic hierarchy. DEMON BULL FAMILY FOREVS! >:D

And, as for Father and Mother, their behavior continues to perplex me. I was welding armor for Father earlier this day, and he has been looking rather off. A bit dull don't you see? He seems tired too. Burnout? Father never experiences burnout. And Mother has kept herself isolated all day today. I wonder what happened?

No matter, they'll regain their strength soon enough. We shall rise back to power and the world will tremble before us once more. Victory is inevitable! >:)

June 3rd, 20XX

This journal continues to evade the attention of Father and Mother. Their ignorance amuses me to no end. Maybe I shall indeed utilize this tome to write down my awesome inventions! I can finally stop using those flimsy parchments. A stroke of brilliance if I do say so myself. Also journal did not pass the lavaproof test. I, Red Son, am a bit sad about it.

But enough about the newdle boy and his paltry gifts. Today, Father had asked me to throw out some Demon Bull Clones. WHAT?!?!! I threw them out anyway didn't want to dissapoint Father. Such weakness is uncharacteristic of him. And I heard Mother crying in her room today and the banging of the walls. I'm beginning to think she is not okay.

Therefore to display my duty as the Prince of the Demon Bull Family, I shall check in on her tomorrow like a good son would! Maybe Father will be proud of me for caring for Mother. The thought excites me. >:D Speaking of which I've been noticing trails of ink around the fortress lately. I took it upon myself to clean it up and I accidentally some got on my precious coat! EW! Will be doing laundry tomorrow too.

I've been using this pathetic journal more as a book to write down my thoughts rather than my inventions, and I have to say it's rather calming gets rid of the chaos inside my brain cage. Of course I note down potential inventions too I don't write down my thoughts all the time. Otherwise I'd need to ask for a new journal from the newdle boy.

It's late now must sleep. GOODNIGHT PATHETIC JOURNAL! Yes, that's what I will call it from now on! >:O

June 4th, 20XX

I woke up at 3AM to write this entry! What an eventful day! First off, Father has indeed been acting more sour lately, asking me to do this and that and this and that. There are only so many things a Prince can do! At times like these, I wish he was more like other fathers.

Anyways, Mother cried in her room last night too. I felt really worried, but luckily she seemed fine when I checked on her. Her tears looked really black though has she been using too much mascara? Eh, whatever.

After that, I went to help Father with the machines he wanted me to repair. It was difficult to get all the parts needed for repairs in one go, especially after hearing Father complain for several hours about how long it takes me to build stuff. So I decided to take a short break before finishing everything.

I was eating a bowl of noodles given to me by the newdle boy, I suppose. A tacky drawing was stuck in front of the bag too of me and him. Not that I care. It's stupid but a bit endearing. I guess it makes me feel less alone or something.

Speaking of the newdle boy, why hasn't he tried to contact us? I haven't seen him since the beach but not like I'm looking out for him or anything, well I wonder if something happened to him. Oh dear. I hope he isn't dead or dying.

It's getting late now, I'll be sure to finish this entry tomorrow. Goodnight! >:)

June 5th, 20XX

Father attacked me today. I don't even want to think about it let alone write about it. It just doesn't make sense to me. It's like every time I leave them alone they somehow manage to screw something up and it's ALWAYS my fault. I guess I shouldn't blame them for my own incompetence after all I was there for most of that mess.

Anyway, this morning was horrible. Mother wouldn't look me in the eye and Father just kept staring into space. They were acting so strangely I wasn't able to concentrate on my duties. Something is going to change, I can almost feel it. All my work for Father and Mother was nothing but dust.

Oh well. Whatever.

Maybe I should write about the time Father attacked me that might help. Yes it did happen. I was just fixing up one of my inventions (my awesome race car) and then Father grabbed me by my neck and slammed me against the wall. His eyes were glowing blue and the next thing I remember was waking up on the floor.

So yeah that was fun to tell, wasn't it?

I feel strange.

Next (TBA)

#lmk #lmk au #lego monkie kid #unidentified ink syndrome #lmk redson

[zealouswerewolfcollector]

Maiar Hate This Simple Trick

I wrote a sequel to @elentarial‘s Desperation and Defeat for @tolkienremix. Big thanks to @welcomingdisaster for beta! Please make sure to check out the original fic too (and the rest of fics in the collection!)

2234 words, T, background Celebrimbor/Narvi and Celeborn/Galadriel

On Ao3

Compilation of miscellaneous notes and letters sent between the high lords and ladies concerning a particular incident of note occurred in Ost-in-Edhil in the eleventh century of the Second Age.

From Prince Celeborn of Doriath to Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion

Dear Celebrimbor,

You might not be aware of it (I lay no blame on you for ignorance born from inexperience), but when you assumed the leadership of Eregion, you also took upon yourself the burden of responsibility for the safety and comfort of all its citizens. 

Regretfully, my safety and comfort were threatened when the Maia, who hails himself Annatar, chose to visit me uninvited to inquire of the whereabouts of my beloved wife and, most disturbingly, to complain about certain facets of your Dwarven colleague. (I have made my views of your association with that individual perfectly clear, so I shall not repeat myself here.)

Celebrimbor, mayhap the Noldor seek knowledge everywhere, but we, the Sindar, have certain reservations. Thanks to your Maiarin suitor, I now know more of Dwarven anatomy than I ever wanted or needed to know. 

I beseech you to keep this Annatar creature on a short leash if he ever returns (which I doubt as the Dwarf’s physique seems to have thoroughly intimidated him). Perhaps more importantly, I implore you to advise your Dwarven friend to dress modestly. I shudder to think of the response an unexpected encounter similar to what he had with Annatar might elicit in your Sindarin citizens.

I remain at your disposal if you ever need advice concerning governing the realm.

Yours in friendship,

Celeborn

Celebrimbor’s notes:

???

Ask Narvi

Could he not walk for a few minutes and speak to me?

Find out when and why Annatar left

 From Lady Galadriel in Lothlórien to her cousin 

Celebrimbor,

I will keep this brief. I am happy that the pretender has been ousted from Eregion. However, I am very unhappy that he had the gall to come to me with his lies. With all the ousting experience that you have, would it be so difficult to dissuade him? 

But perhaps I give you too much credit. The deceiver likes to add a kernel of truth to his lies to make himself seem more trustworthy, and from what he did not say, I reasoned that Narvi played a great part in his exile. I hope you understand that you should always keep Narvi by your side. Even when the time comes for him to pass to Aulë’s Halls, I strongly advise you to acquire another Dwarven companion after the appropriate mourning period.

Please convey my most cordial greetings to Narvi. Aside from my husband, he is what I miss most of all about Eregion. But if you believe you can come begging me to return now that the imposter is gone, I must disappoint you. I have left for good.

Keep Narvi away from Celeborn, but do try to visit him from time to time. He is lonely, and you are his kinsman, however distant.

Your cousin,

Galadriel

P.S. Celebrían sends her love.

Celebrimbor’s notes:

[a sketch of a ring]

 From Lady Galadriel to her beloved husband Celeborn, Prince of Doriath

Dearest,

How fare you alone, without your wife and your daughter? Enough time has passed for my wrath to abate and allow me to admit that I miss you. Oh, if only you were not stubborn as a Noldo* and joined us in Lothlórien! It is reminiscent of Doriath of old, or it could be one day if we both put our minds to it. Were you here, we could run bare and free as we did in our youth under Melian’s singing trees.

Do you remember, beloved, how I took your hand and asked you to show me the magical corners of your home? You wove a garland from the golden beech leaves in Neldoreth and put it over my hair. Your touch was as soft as the grass beneath my feet. In the cold waters of Esgalduin, we pledged our eternal love to each other, witnessed only by the nightingales and Eru himself.

In Lothlórien we may regain some of what we have lost. The song of the trees is different but no less sweet. When the mellyrn seeds grow into trees, we shall have something even Melian did not. If you close your eyes, do you see you and I walking under their bright leaves? Do you see yourself taking my hand and asking me to show you my best-loved part of the forest? I see it, beloved, I do.

[omitted two pages of descriptions of Lothlórien and three pages of intimate nature]

Incidentally, the detested Maia paid me a visit recently. I will not tire you by repeating what he said. It was the same old lies he had bored me with in Ost-in-Edhil. I am surprised he insisted yet again he was an apprentice of Aulë, knowing that I knew for certain he was lying. He seemed rattled, for the lack of a better word, as much as someone like him can be rattled. I am quite sure it was due to his expulsion from Eregion.

Dearest, I need to know exactly what happened, what affected him so, and how it can be turned against him and those of his ilk. I have already written to Celebrimbor, but it is highly unlikely he will write back or be aware of the details of the events that transpired. Thus, it falls to you to find out. Begin with Narvi the dwarf. If you are fortunate, it will end with him. I suspect he has played the greatest role in the pretender’s defeat.

Once more, I want to emphasize the importance of your task. I care not what you have to do. Even if you have to grovel before Narvi, do it. I need every detail. I know you find his dalliance with Celebrimbor offensive, but if you wish to have any chance for us to live as a husband and wife again, you will do this for me. If you are successful, I might even consider returning to Ost-in-Edhil with our daughter. I have not told her I am writing to you again. It upsets her greatly not to have you with us. I have no desire to remind her of it.

If you have any doubts, reread my letter, dearest. I know you will do what is best for our family. 

Your loving wife,

Galadriel

* Margin note from Celeborn։ the Noldor do not own the concept of stubbornness

 From Elrond, King’s herald, to Lord Celebrimbor in Ost-in-Edhil

My dear Celebrimbor,

Are you as surprised as I am to realize that ages have passed since our last meeting? I cannot lament my duties, and I know that you, too, bear yours gladly, but surely we should strive to find more time for those we hold dear. More and more frequently, I find myself wanting to turn to you for advice or for a simple conversation like the ones we used to have so long ago. I am not the only one who misses you for you have touched the hearts of many people before you moved East. 

[omitted five pages of detailed reports on mutual friends]

Dear Celebrimbor, please do not think this is the only reason I am writing to you, but I need your help with a matter that might prove greatly significant. I must begin with a story that will certainly sound very familiar to you. Several years ago, a Maia came to Lindon, claiming to have been in the training of Aulë and offering his aid and counsel. The King was tempted, as was I, and as I am sure anyone would be. However, soon I came to mistrust the Maia and his words for the promises he made seemed designed to gratify his listener and often changed depending on who he was talking to, but in such a way that the listener failed to notice. Moreover, I perceived he did not favor me much, which would not trouble me, as you certainly know, if he did not speak so sweetly to my face and then whisper to the King’s ear that I was contemplating usurping him.

Fortunately, this was what made the King reconsider accepting the Maia’s offer for Ereinion Gil-galad knows me better than I know myself and has never questioned my loyalty. The Maia was asked to leave Lindon, and we did not hear of him again until weeks ago when he reappeared in Lindon and flung himself, repentant, at the King’s feet. He swore he regretted his mistakes and had come to atone as well as reiterated his offer to help preserve the beauty, power and youth of the Eldar for ages to come. Presently, I received a letter from Lady Galadriel, cautioning me against trusting the Maia and recounting a compelling story about a Dwarven friend of yours, who is seemingly unperturbed by Maiarin wiles. I shall copy her letter here, so you can read it for yourself.

[omitted Galadriel’s letter]

My dear Celebrimbor, I fear the Maia has truly learned from his mistakes and shall henceforth be even more careful in his actions. Even if he does not sway the King, there are others he may influence, and if his intentions are verily as malicious as I suspect, we might be facing a disaster once he succeeds. Therefore, I ask you to share the tale of your Dwarven companion with me and the King, so we can know how to fight this evil. Please spare no details. Perhaps you may not agree or may think I am exaggerating, but finding out how to counteract a rogue Maia might be the most noteworthy discovery of our age.

The King and I shall await your response eagerly.

Forever your friend,

Elrond

Celebrimbor’s notes:

Ask Narvi

Ask Elrond to get to the point at least by the third page

[a sketch of a ring]

[a sketch of Narvi unclothed]

 From Celebrimbor to Narvi

My love, 

Celeborn has finally taken his leave. What a strange speech he gave! Unnecessarily belligerent too if I may say so. And how long! I could have worked instead or spent time with you. I must remedy the time missed. Consider this note an invitation to dinner. I am going to have it in the forge, so we can work as well as eat.  

Besides, I have a favor to ask of you. I have received several letters, all concerning the same matter. I suspect you are more knowledgeable about it than I am. Perhaps you could draft an answer and subtly remind my friends and kin how occupied with work you and I are.

However, I should ask you to explain to me first exactly what happened. The letters suggest an odd sequence of events, although amusing. But I should like to hear from your lips how you banished poor Annatar. 

Is it a long story? If so, perhaps you should not wait until dinner and come to see me immediately. I have truly missed you. All of you.

Your Shorty

 From High King Ereinion Gil-galad to his herald Elrond Peredhel

Greetings Elrond,

I hope you are well. I am puzzled. I have received a strange letter from Celebrimbor. It contains drawings and measurements detailing the anatomy of a Dwarf. Celebrimbor claims it can be used as a weapon. It was sent at your request. Care to explain? I am not interested in any genitals, including Dwarven. I have no idea why Celebrimbor thought it a good idea. I have little time for it. 

The letter is enclosed. Do what you will with it. Please keep me uninformed. 

Ereinion Gil-galad

High King of the Noldor

No notes left on the letter, but contemporaries speak of one of the loudest sighs ever uttered by Elrond Peredhel.

 From Narvi in Ost-in-Edhil to King Durin III

Esteemed Sovereign,

As per your request, I am sending my regular report on the happenings in the Elven realms. Not much has changed since my last letter. My collaboration with the elf is going smoothly. The work on the Doors is nearly complete. Some Elves here remain as conceited as they have been when it comes to Dwarves, but I never fail to answer them in kind. 

Celebrimbor has proven himself an excellent partner in all senses. With your permission, I would like to invite him to Khazad-dûm, so you can make sure of it yourself. I do hope he will not be too popular. I have no desire to spend my life fighting off competitors.

In related news, the sacrilegious villain I have written about in my previous letters is gone from this realm, hopefully for good. I did not want to take credit for it, but some elf-lords have realized it was my doing and are now clamoring for my advice.

My king, I find it necessary for you to know how to dispose of him too. If the elves continue denying this miscreant, he may appear before the doors of Khazad-dûm, trying to get into your good graces. Forgive my forwardness, my king, but in that case, I suggest you and your guards welcome him in the nude. I assure you the sight is guaranteed to make him flee to the shadows he has come from, never to return.

Your servant,

Narvi

#silmarillion #celebrimbor #narvi #galadriel #celeborn #elrond #silm fic #tolkienremix #zwc fic #my first fic that takes place entirely in the second age #this also passes my personal mae.dhros bechdel test

[hot-take-tournament]

HOT TAKE TOURNAMENT!

PRELIMINARY #242

Submission 51

Balloon Boy is a good character and does not deserve hate.

I would like to be very vulnerable despite my anonymity and put forward a letter of sorts I wrote to the FNAF community when I was around 13-14 years old and even less medicated than I am now. I never posted this letter anywhere and it has sat in an old kids' PDF book creator app on my iPad for almost ten years. It's cringe. It's dumb. I was frustrated with a community I was hardly a part of. But even today I still don't think Balloon Boy is as terrible as the fandom made (and still makes) him out to be. Maybe I'm just more resistant to repetitive sounds, I dunno. He was a major comfort character for me, for whatever reason, so I must confess my continued bias. The following is that weird manifesto I wrote in a "fit of annoyance."

And I quote,

"A message to all Balloon Boy haters: We're the ones that know true sympathy. Of course, there ARE the ones who are truly evil, but then there are the ones that did not realize their wrong until it was too late. You, my fellow FNAF lovers, still have much to learn... Sure, you can say that you are not fond of a certain object, place or person, a noun, but that does not mean that you must tell the world in great detail. Saying it once or twice, okay, now the ones you've told know you don't like who, what or where. But if you keep bringing it up, that can lead to loneliness. Abandonment even. We all have our differences. This is true, and I respect all of that. But just because there's a divide doesn't necessarily make us different. We all have opinions. But just because it's your opinion doesn't make it a universal fact. Respect the other peoples opinions. 'WHAT???!! How can you like that??!!!' Try not to ask questions like that with so much intensity. A simple 'Why?' can suffice. Don't go into detail. Once you learn the reasons of the opinion, then maybe you can understand our sympathy.

It's not just because he's 'cute' or whatever. Think of if he had feelings. Sure, you can say 'But he's just a fictional character! Stop sympathizing!' but that would rule out your opinion too. By saying we cannot sympathize because he is not a real person, you basically have to cancel out any emotion directed toward him except neutrality BECAUSE YOU JUST SAID HE IS FICTIONAL. If he is truly fictional, then we cannot have any type of feelings whatsoever towards him, whether love or hate. Everyone has their faults. Just because someone is annoying does not mean they are evil and the devil. Being annoying isn't really evil. Think if he was the actual one to kill you. Sure, they could be intentionally annoying just to irritate someone, and do it a lot, but that doesn't necessarily mean they are evil. I respect everyone's opinion, and I am not aiming to convert everyone to respecting BB, but at least give him some credit. He does his job, doesn't he? If you hate him, alright, that's fine, but it's not very courteous or friendly to make a big deal of it and shun us BB lovers. Your opinions are opinions, not facts. I will admit, BB can be annoying, but at least feel sympathy a little and respect everyone's different opinion. Also, just because I view stuff where BB is considered 'part of the illuminati' or 'the enragement child' doesn't mean I'm a BB hater myself. I take those remarks as JOKES. Even if I'm wrong, I make it seem to myself that those people aren't hating Balloon Boy, they just found aspects of him to fit into certain jokes that would be considered humorous.

Thank you."

Obviously I was incredibly dramatic. I was waxing poetic to hundreds of thousands of people who would never read my words. I don't think it would have changed anything in the fandom and I probably would have been kys'd off the internet, so it's probably good I didn't post it anywhere. I didn't even have any proper social media past Google+ at the time anyway. Do I still agree with my younger self? For the most part, yeah! Their wording left something to be desired, obviously. I don't think "We're the ones that know true sympathy," is all that impactful even if it sounds fancy. It's just fandom drama, younger me. I wasn't wrong, though! The hate towards Balloon Boy due to his game mechanic and annoying laugh was incredibly blown out of proportion. In FNAF fandom culture at the time he was almost only ever characterized as The Worst Child Ever(tm) and bullied to all hell even though his characterization was next to none...just like every other animatronic, really. Maybe that's just a general fandom problem, but I digress. He could have still been the annoying kid without becoming the antichrist or whatever.

Balloon Boy is a cute little kid who happens to be a troublemaker, basically. That's all he is. Maybe calm down and lessen up on animating Freddy smashing this poor kid's head into the wall in SFM, I dunno.

Sorry it took so long for me to post this. I know it takes guts to be vulnerable on the internet, even anonymously <3

Propaganda is always encouraged!

And remember to reblog your favourite polls for exposure!

#hot take tournament #tournament poll #tumblr tournament #tumblr poll #tumblr bracket #hot take #unpopular opinion #fnaf #fnaf 2 #five nights at freddy's #balloon boy #fnaf balloon boy

[consolecadet]

I'm feeling slightly less seething Christmas hatred than usual this year. I've reached a point where, though I still strongly dislike a lot of things about Christmas, I can separate out the different bits and not let the ones I hate make me cranky about the ones I like.

Like. . .I despise Christmas music, "ugly sweaters", the Salvation Army, jingly little bells, eggnog, candy canes, big hunks of ham, Christmas media, the crushing expectation that you must put on the cheerful rictus of The Christmas Spirit, elves (Santa can stay but only if he's gay), most Christian conceptions of religious entities, people's assumptions that you have a pleasant and uncomplicated relationship with your family of origin, the planet-burning American culture of consumption, proselytization, those new LED string lights that make your front lawn look like a gamer lair, etc, etc, etc.

But I do like peppermint bark, the smell of balsam fir, cheese plates, a short visit to my parents' nice house where trans people outnumber cis people 2:1 and I can always get into my car and drive away, knowing my sister will cherish any lesbian-themed objects I give her, incandescent string lights, neatly wrapping presents with nice paper and double-sided tape, and I guess Die Hard.

My local Buy Nothing group means I no longer have nearly as much of a guilt spiral about receiving gifts I dislike. I believe I've finally gotten my father to stop giving me novelty socks and awful plasticky novelty band-aids. (Actually, maybe I'm giving myself too much credit. I just realized the store where he bought his most irritating gifts closed permanently in 2020.) I also just don't take it as personally when people give me something that betrays a major misapprehension of who I am. It's not like I make it easy for people to know me, especially my parents.

I think part of what's making this time of year less psychologically harrowing is that 1) I got to do Christmas and Hanukkah with KC and without my parents last year, and thus reject within our apartment everything I hated while keeping the menorah and peppermint bark and 2) I spent some time this year trying to practice Judaism in ways my dad was not interested in sharing with me when I was growing up, and figured out what I did/didn't like or value about certain aspects of Jewish religious practice.

It seems very obvious that if I can give up on learning Hebrew because it's upsetting and difficult for me and have a seder with gluten-free matzo that doesn't halachically qualify as Real Matzo, I can absolutely also banish the concept of Christ and all renditions of Silent Night from my home while enjoying smelling a tree in there.

It's extremely common to be a child of an agnostic interfaith couple who did not give you a connection to any kind of faith community and left you with lots of baggage about it. I don't have to wait to fix my feelings about that before I can participate in any holiday or religious practice, and probably HAVE to try participating with a modicum of vulnerability if I want to change anything. Also none of these things materially affect Israel's genocidal behavior unless I, like, buy my parents SodaStream canisters for Christmas.

It probably also helps that I left the job where my boss expected extreme enthusiasm at all times and took any doubt or questions as personal affronts. I read The Promise of Happiness and no longer feel like affect alienation is a personal failing on my part. I feel far less bitter, resentful, and hateful about Christmas if I don't let people pressure me to be (or perform being) sweet, cheerful, and loving about it.

Fuck the Elf on the Shelf though. That's just weird.

#idk. maybe voluntarily enjoying 10% of christmas is caving to cultural christianity #I ate peppermint bark once and now I'm legally obligated to become the CEO of the salvation army #boring text posts #family

[astral-actias]

So I heard through the grapevine a bit ago that there's been some certain people with an axe to grind for whatever the hell reason I can't fathom considering I haven't talked to them in multiple years going around saying, 'lol Nevi doesn't know shit, he's basically kin-for-fun, he thinks you can just say you have a kintype because you want to be a thing, how stupid is that.' Like, I must be doing something right if I've got hate-followers letting me live rent free in their head, and given who it was (no I'm not sharing) I'm personally flattered that they dislike me so much. It's a good sign.

And if you thought I was going to refute that, no, fuck the law, you really can just be a thing because you want to be the thing, but there's also a lot more nuance in that than certain people are giving me credit for.

It starts with trusting people, and that includes yourself. You have to trust people to know what they want. You have to trust people to know why they want something. You have to trust them to make accurate statements about themselves in good faith, even if they might later conclude that they were wrong or that their situation has changed. (You also, as a corollary, have to trust that a situation can in fact change, and why wouldn't it? Things change. Identities fluctuate. That's just life.)

Obviously this doesn't include trolls, because they aren't making a factual statement, nor are they acting in good faith. But it does include people whose criteria for judgement may not match yours. It also doesn't mean that you cannot ask constructive questions, or offer other ideas.

I sincerely don't think it's possible for someone to really, wholeheartedly want to be nonhuman if they don't have some kind of connection to the type in question to begin with. Wanting to be a thing is a major symptom of being the thing. You don't claim an identity because you don't see yourself in it, you claim it because you do. And if you feel you're nonhuman enough to say that you're nonhuman, and not be completely lying, congratulations! You're nonhuman. It's literally that simple.

This also doesn't mean that it's impossible to realize you're a kind of nonhuman that you aren't excited about. That happens. I legitimately was not very interested in fae and even now I don't feel much kinship at all with other fae. It's whatever to me. But I still see myself in that as an identity and I still want to say that I'm fae. I can say that I am and I feel truthful, or I can say that I'm not and I feel dishonest. That's literally enough right there.

You also don't have to claim labels that you don't want. Nobody has to be otherkin. That's just a word. Nobody has to subscribe to the entire ideology, and make no mistake, it is a heavily prescribed ideology, with a ton of social and cultural norms. You aren't obligated to follow them if you don't feel like it. You can just not do that. On the flip side, because forcing labels onto people is shitty, nobody is otherkin unless they say they are and actively adopt that label, which hilariously enough makes being otherkin entirely, 100% voluntary. Go figure.

But at the end of the day, if you can say, in good faith, that you are this or that or the other thing? You are. That's it. That's the whole bar you have to step over and it's not high. There's no way to conclusively prove or disprove someone else's entirely internal, subjective experience anyway and that's fine. You can just say you are a thing, and you are the thing. Boom. Easy.

Assuming that I'm out here proclaiming that people are allowed to invent falsehoods for shits and giggles kinda says more about the person making the assumption than it does me. Nobody is saying that, but go off I guess. I'm saying that if someone really, sincerely feels it's true, and they want to assume this identity as a result, then yeah, it's true, because that's all any of us are working with anyway. All the 'proof' in the world amounts to a fuckin' hill of beans, in which the beans are various little thoughts we've decided to see patterns in and assemble in a certain way. That isn't different regardless of if you just got here or if you're the grayest of muzzles. Nobody's got shit over each other, here.

(Also maybe if we haven't spoken in years and I'm still coming up in your conversations as some kind of bogeyman who is simultaneously too stupid to live and yet also somehow menacing your identity with my big smart mouth words, you may be sorely in need of a thing called 'a life.' 'Cause that's kinda sad and I guarantee I'm not thinking about you.)

#otherkin #nonhuman #kin #fictionkin #alterhuman #therian #lol the usual things I say but this time with a lot more words than usual #tickled fucking pink that some certain gross individual(s) is still buttmad about...I'm not even sure what #considering we haven't exchanged words in a fuckin grip or three #but I'm pretty sure the words were something like 'yeah you don't get to tell me what I am fuck off' #so y'know #nothing of value lost there anyway #I waited quite a while to vague #and if you're trying to guess who it's about #you're probably already wrong unless you were in the car for the conversation

[moonrisecoeur]

omg hey moon!! 🍬 + 📚

HI EM OMG also hehe em is my actual government name so it’s weird it feels like i’m talking to myself 😭

🍬 - unpopular opinion is hard bc like i agree with whatever people say about characters lol. hmm idk if this is unpopular but i feel like ada’s character doesn’t seem to exist outside of leon to a lot of re fans, and like. she’s so much deeper than people give her credit for. people think she’s evil when literally all the girl has ever done is her JOB. not her fault if the random white boy was dumb lol. people and more often than not men just see a female character who does bad things and hate on her for the same bad things male characters do. and don’t hate on the male characters. ada and wesker are the perfect depiction of this !!

📚 - last thing in my notes app i actually copied from the internet lol it’s a transcript of an episode of dangerously yours! carnage actually takes a lot of inspiration from this episode !! :) under the readmore cuz it’s longish

again lol this is not my writing this is a transcript !!

“…You mean you’re actually going to kill me..?” (male character)

“I mean just that.” (female character ‘catheryne’)

“Well… go ahead.”

“…I’ll do this my own way… Look… you already know my purpose in being here. Now you will either give me my information, or I will kill you. You have until 9 o’clock.”

“You won’t do it. You can’t pull the trigger. You can’t pull it because you love me. It takes a very brave and a very cold woman to do that Catheryne, I don’t think you can… Isn’t that true? Isn’t that why you’re waiting…?”

“Thats not true!”

“Or is it that you want to watch your victim? You want my heart to constrict with agony, my hands to shake! You want me to plead for my life so you can make a generous gesture and spare me… Sorry Catheryne, I don’t seem to be in the mood for prayers tonight.”

“You don’t think i’ll do it? Thats why you’re so brave… You don’t think i’ll do it… You wouldn’t be so brave otherwise…! You’re a coward at heart! You lied to me, you decieved me—“

“You tried to decieve me.”

“—I’m tired of listening to you!”

“You gave me your heart you know… You’r like me to hand it back—whole again. But I won’t. You’ll live a long time yet Catheryne, an eternity without me. You will look into the faces of passers by hoping for something that will-- for an instant-- bring me back to you. You will find moonlit nights strangely empty because, when you call my name through them there will be no answer. Always your heart will be aching for me, and your mind will give you the doubtful consolation that you did, a brave thing.”

“You dare to talk of bravery…!”

“What else do we have to talk about Catheryne? For me— there will never be another woman but you… but for my heart there is another love that must come before you… my country!…… You’re so still, your face is like ice… what are you thinking Catheryne…?”

“What does anything you can say matter…? You betrayed me with words… What good are words when your heart is breaking… If I fail now I should deserve to die. You tricked me into loving you.”

“You’re forgetting that you came here for the same purpose!”

“I couldn’t have betrayed you… I tried to tell you and you said you already knew! I was as honest as I knew how to be!”

“Do you think I wanted to love you…?! Knowing where ya came from and what your mission was?! Don’t you suppose that every hour that we were together I was just thinking ‘Shes just pretending’?!”

“I wasn’t!!! I loved you!!!”

“And I loved you so much I let you pretend… because you brought something to my days I couldn’t stand the thought of losing…Listen to your heart Catheryne. Feel it pounding.”

“Your time is up.”

“Then my last words… I love you Catheryne.”

“You’re determined to die with a lie on your lips..?”

#em <3

[hobbitwrangler]

20 questions for writers

Thank you @scyllas-revenge for tagging me! <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 6 so far.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

21,536

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only Tolkien fandoms so far.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Lol since I only have 6 fics this is basically all of them but from highest to lowest it's Victory in Defeat, A Monster in the Shadows, The Power of Tea (did not expect it to be this popular), At the Death of a Friend and Too Burdened to Fly.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Of course! Not necessarily immediately but I always reply.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I feel like At the Death of a Friend and Too Burdened to Fly are more sad than angsty, so I'll go with A Monster in the Shadows. That fic really put me through my Théoden and Éowyn feels.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'm going to say it's a tie between Victory in Defeat and White Blossom, although Victory in Defeat gets to the happiness with less reflection beforehand.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far thankfully.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope, I have neither the courage nor the conviction.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No. Much as the idea of the three main Istari meeting the witches from Discworld fills me with great joy, I do not have the necessary skills to pull it off.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'd be open to the possibility.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No and I think I'd need more time to grow confident in writing within Tolkien's universe before I'd consider it - although it sounds like it could be very fun!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Farawyn have had me in a chokehold since forever, as anyone who has been on my blog for more than about five minutes will probably know. However, I must also give credit to Odysseus and Penelope (who are getting revived by me rereading the Odyssey), Kaz and Inej and Cor and Aravis (icons). Also Vimes and Sybil (my parents actually).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a Hunger Games fic which I started a few years ago because I needed a way of digging into how horrific the idea of Career Districts really is. The characters from it have a very special place in my heart but I don't think it has enough plot to work properly.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue? I tend to start with dialogue and then build the scene around it. I also think I'm fairly good at representing people's emotions.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description/scenery. I have to force myself to do it every time and it's usually the last part of the writing process for me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I could do French and Spanish but that's unfortunately not very useful in Middle Earth. I might be able to sprinkle some Sindarin/Quenya words here and there but whole sentences? No.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Lotr actually! I've come full circle.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is like asking a mother to pick her favourite child. I like all of them equally because they've all challenged me in different ways and allowed me to explore different character dynamics, some of which I've loved for ages (Théoden & Éowyn, Éowyn/Faramir) and some of which have only occured to me recently (Saruman & Galadriel, Bilbo & Gilraen). But if pushed I'll go with A Monster in the Shadows for now, since it allowed me to give my take on Théoden and Éowyn's relationship, which I've loved ever since I first watched the lotr movies as a kid.

tagging @imakemywings @glorf1ndel @emyn-arnens @searchingforserendipity25 @brigwife if you haven't done this already!

#tag games

[philhoffman]

Watched A Most Wanted Man (2014) for a special Monday Philm this week—since last March, I’ve been rewatching all of PSH’s films in chronological order and this one completes the cycle (I know, the Mockingjays were released later, but I grouped The Hunger Games films together for my own continuity).

To be completely honest I spent most of this rewatch counting how many cigarettes Günther Bachmann smokes throughout the film (keeping a real pen-and-paper tally in my movie-watching notebook)—the answer is about 22. Real ones, the herbal cigarettes Phil said he was smoking all day anyway. There is much to be said about the cinematic value of smoking cigarettes—and I plan on writing more about that at some point!—but man there’s no doubt not many people (if anyone) do it better than him. It’s so much a part of Bachmann, of Hoffman—his breath made visible, hanging in the air. Cinema!

“We find them. We become their friends, their brothers, their fathers, their lovers, if we must.”

Still one of my favorite films, even more so since I read the book a few months ago. Surprisingly high rewatchability factor, especially if you’re like me and generally do not know what’s going on in espionage stories ever. I think I’ve finally caught up to this one—but the tension is so thick, I still find myself half-hoping, half-begging, “Maybe it will go right this time, maybe it will end differently, maybe he will not walk away.”

Watching all of Phil Hoffman’s films in chronological order was supposed to give me some kind of insight into his development as an actor, the various periods and patterns of his career, his artistic growth. But really, pretty early on, I kinda forgot I was supposed to be thinking about that. I just loved being surprised by what was next on my schedule, seeing him for a few extra hours each week. Lately I’ve been thinking about how Phil made watching films very easy on us, the viewer—he is so good, it’s so natural, you can forget you’re watching PSH the actor and instead witness a real soul brought to life from a screenplay, he suspends your disbelief for you and you go willingly—and also so very hard—how does someone breathe life into a few lines on paper like that? why do I see myself in this character I’ve been told to hate, to be repulsed by? why can’t I look away, why is this painful, why am I still thinking about it days and weeks and years later? He always delivered, from that youthful (over)exuberance, a palpable excitement like static on your screen, to the quieter, more mature gravity he found later in his career (The Master, A Most Wanted Man). His entire life he gave it 110% and then some.

The first time I watched his filmography through, I did it in random order, whatever I felt like that week. This time was (mostly) chronological. I’m not sure what I’m going to do next, except I know I’m not ready to give this series up quite yet. It’s been over two years now and it’s hard to imagine not having something to look forward to on otherwise bleak Monday nights. And no, as my family and friends have asked, I don’t get tired of them. The volume of his work is so extensive and the material is so wide-ranging, there’s always something I’m craving or haven’t seen in over a year. Tbh I’ve missed the 90s lately—it’s been months since I’ve sat down to watch almost any of them, I miss that buoyancy and his babyface.

I’ve been thinking about doing a little less in these posts—collecting and editing the stills and writing the reviews is time-consuming (and sometimes emotionally taxing) late on a work night and how much, really, can I say about Patch Adams (my beloved)? But, idk. “And the zen master says, we’ll see.”

Over two years of Monday Philms and this blog, which I kinda started as a place to put these reviews, has a couple hundred followers now. Thank you for being here for this journey. But I can’t take much credit for that—I think, I hope, most of y’all are here because of Phil, his work, his life as a brilliant artist and a sweet, handsome, generous person, all the ways he’s inspired and understood you. I like to think we have a nice little community built around that shared love. For me, I am forever indebted to him. My life is changed in every way—fuller, better, more loving and relentless—because it’s now intertwined with his. Thank you Phil so much for everything I love you <3

#some invisible string tying me to you all along...... #also if you're just here bc you think he's hot. soooo true ur valid as well #monday philm #a most wanted man #philip seymour hoffman #psh #* #no room to be sad tonight. thinking abt günther's red eyebrows and his belly and how many shots corbijn included of his hands.