#< lying liar who lies

[mistercage-archive]

someone pointed out his "love handles" and after googling what that is i think i need 3 business weeks to recover (also help he’s so hot in this pic woah)

[arsenicpanda]

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S (2023)

[isawthismeme]

She’s brown and a democrat, gotta get that birth certificate, that we’ll call fake news anyway. Apparently, if you can’t win in a fight, you gotta at least try to get your opponent disqualified.

Sad and weird.

[lectorel]

Pet peeve of the moment: brands which treat 'Linen' like it's a style description instead of a fiber

No, your 65% cotton 35% spandex shirt is not linen, it will never be linen, and if fact the closest it will ever come to linen is hanging next to it in a closet. If it's not made from flax fiber, it's not linen.

[odinsblog]

Trump lies about the size of rallies and the size of his everything.

Here’s to whoever was working the camera 🫡

[erraticreflections]

[katebeckets]

Special Agent Fox “I do not gaze at Scully” Mulder ⤷ [3/13] ✧ Season Three

[chanrizard]

shenanbinchans ( 20/? )

© zoe_lixx

[lunarmoves]

"have you—" you started, then stopped to mull over the phrasing of your question.

"have i?" sun's lighthearted response came a moment later when you hadn't yet said anything. he straightened up from where he'd been cleaning off one of the art tables in the daycare and spun his head around so he could peer at you backwards.

you twisted your lips to the side, your gaze directed skywards in thought. "hang on, i'm trying to figure out how to phrase this." your legs dangled from where you sat atop the security desk, swaying back and forth idly as you strung words together. sun was patient, though you could see the way he glanced around at all the messes he still needed to clean when you looked at him.

slowly, you spoke. "have you ever had like"—you tapped at your chin, eyebrows furrowed—"had any... involuntary actions?"

sun's head tilted to the side, his eyes squinting slightly. "depends. define 'involuntary'."

"well," you said with a hum, "like, i don't know. if something startled you, i guess."

"ah! you mean reactions," sun said, a finger in the air as he came to the realization. "reflexes, in a sense."

you snapped your fingers and pointed at him. bingo! "yeah! exactly that. you ever had any?"

he smiled at you and turned away so he could resume his cleaning. "can't say that we've had! it is an utterly human thing, i'm afraid."

you frowned, shoulders slouching at his easy dismissal. you watched him pick up some scattered crayons on another small table. "really? not at all?"

"nope!" he replied cheerfully. "each and every action we take is done after careful computation, making them all completely voluntary." he tossed the crayons in his large hands into their designated container, then turned to look at you with his hands on his slim hips. "for example, the probability of you answering with 'are they really' is approximately 93.456 percent."

"are they—" you caught yourself from responding in the middle of his explanation, closing your mouth with an audible click. sun gave you a wide grin.

"see? and as such i am able to properly give a response! there is no scenario that i am unprepared for!"

you pursed your lips and discretely reached behind you. "but what if i did"—your fingers snagged onto a crumpled ball of paper and you whipped your hand forward to throw it right at his dumb face—"this!"

without even a blink, sun reached up and caught the wad of paper before it could hit him. his white eyes crinkled into slim crescents. "even that was accounted for, friend!" he tossed the paper off to the side and it landed perfectly into a nearby garbage can. you resisted a groan.

"how could you even account for a stupid action like that?" you asked, huffing slightly out of your nose. talking to sun sure was frustrating sometimes.

there was a small pause. "because i know you, my dear," sun eventually said gently. his smile strained slightly at one side of his face. "and i know how much you like your silly questions."

you rolled your eyes, but didn't deign that with a response. instead, you pouted at him. "so you're just always computing situations and probabilities in your mind, then executing them?"

"right you are! we are capable of analyzing hundreds of thousands of scenarios in an instant, you know."

you mulled over this for a bit, thinking back to all your previous encounters with sun. he went back to tidying up, the silence of the daycare interrupted only by the jingle playing through the overhead speakers.

you weren't about to just let this go. you were nothing but persistent, it seemed. "what about when i've caught you off guard?" you questioned soon after. sun tilted his head again, but didn't turn around to face you this time when he responded.

"you have never caught me off guard, friend," he said, his voice oddly clipped.

your jaw dropped open at the blatant lie. you knew for sure, you'd said or done things he had not expected. "oh that's bullshit, i definitely have! it's always written all over your body language!"

"language," sun warned you, straightening up so he could toss some stray plastic balls back into the ball pit. he brushed off his hands of invisible dirt, then made his way closer to you. he stopped just before you, his shadow casting itself over your seated form on the desk. he booped your nose, a motion that made you cross your eyes to look at his finger. "you have not. i already told you; there is nothing i am unprepared for and nothing i cannot control."

"right," you said, unconvinced. a sudden thought popped in your head just as sun began to turn away, and you opened your mouth to voice it. "what about that thing you do with your hands?"

he stilled, halfway turned from you. "what thing?"

"you know, the—" you made a motion with your hands, flexing your fingers like you were grabbing something invisible. sun watched you from the corner of his eye, pupils of white on a backdrop of cloudy grey. "that thing. or when your rays twitch. are those voluntary?"

like clockwork, one of his rays twitched until it stopped with an audible click. he stared at you, unrelenting in his gaze. you felt wholly exposed underneath it. "...those are simply minor calibrations."

you gave him an unimpressed look. "dude, you're not fooling me. you even sound off right now, you're telling me you're doing it on purpose?"

"yes." he turned back around to face you and laced his fingers together. there was a smile on his face still, but it was frigid. static. "to simulate human behavior in accordance to the data i am being presented with."

you scoffed. "i'm not data, sun, i—"

he leaned down towards you, making you shift back slightly on the desk. a pit was starting to open at the bottom of your stomach. "oh but you are. what do you think i am processing right now if not the data that you consist of?"

your jaw tensed, and when you replied, your voice was stiff. "you know what? i'm going to pretend like you didn't just say that to my face." you glanced down at his hands, where his fingers were twitching against each other. you pointed at them. "is that voluntary too?"

his pupils darted down to look at his hands, then he swiftly tucked them behind his back. "yes, completely." his smile thinned, something lining his voice that you couldn't quite identify. "friend, we have been over this—"

"sun, why are you so—"

"what do you want me to say?!" he snapped out over your own voice, and it was so unexpected that your jaw snapped shut. "that i am not in control of certain actions? that the robot doesn't work like it is supposed to anymore?"

you opened your mouth to respond. but before you could utter a word, a cool palm covered the entirety of your lower face, silencing you. sun moved until his head was inches from your own, his pupils piercing through your own as the lights behind his head cast his face in a deep shadow.

"because i can assure you, friend," he said lowly, grip tightening on your jaw, "you do not want that."

[nikoisme]

You can't take any gold or rings further than the grave

[sofitai28]

martin blackwood the man that you are

[reality-detective]

MORE VOTING ISSUES, yet again out of Schaumburg, Illinois.

Just leave your ballots!! Someone is gonna come fix the issue and these election workers are going to be here “until late tonight” and they will “process them later on tonight”

Who trusts them? 🤔

[romanyeva]

Just had to talk a friend down from a two cakes crisis. Her cakes - meaning her fic - are absolutely fine, but she felt a little down and checked out the rest of the dessert table. She got caught up in the whole comparison thing. "Oh man, this fic is way better than mine 😞."

And hoo boy, have I ever been there. When I was writing prolifically, I just wouldn't read. I couldn't because I knew I'd go into that fic measuring mindset and declare myself the loser, have to step away from the keyboard and stare out the window a while. And if I had an exchange deadline? Absolute worst timing.

Not everyone goes through that of course, but it's more common than you think, even with so-called established writers. I've seen people delete wips or even their whole account over that burden of doubt. So here are some possible tips to crawl out from under that burden:

Table it. You're done for the day. You've been staring at that cursor for too long. You have no perspective on your work anymore. Go do something else: play with your dog/cat/fish, go for a walk, eat something, go to bed if it's late.

Re-engage with the source material. Watch an episode, read a chapter, listen to that podcast, whatever it is. Find that voice in your head that sings in harmony with the source.

Read positive comments left on your previous work. Trust what they've told you. Because the liar here is your doubt, not your readers.

Hit up that friend you trust and ask them to tell you your strengths. Even if you don't believe it right now, you have strengths as a writer. Maybe it's worldbuilding, maybe it's dialogue; your friend will give you concrete examples. You don't need a beta right now, that will come later.

You're not alone. This is a community. Even if it's a rarepair or gen fic in a niche fandom - and especially then! - someone will be so happy that you brought that cake to the table.

[isawthismeme]

[socialbutterfly19]

I should have been a PI

[tk-duveraun]

During his Abyss mourning years, SY manages to travel by himself to watch the migration of Demonic Purple Liege Butterflies, so he's just out in a field when a tear in reality opens up and LBH falls out, broken, beaten, slightly charred and fresh out of the Abyss

SY is, sadly, a deeply stupid man and instead of running cleans him up and nurses him back to health in the cottage he's rented to watch the migration. Maybe he's waving his own death flags, but what is he supposed to do? Leave LBH to suffer more?

Imagine his surprise when LBH wakes up and cries with joy to be reunited with his Shizun and home(ish)

He doesn't remember how he fell into the abyss