#Feel free to respond if you'd like!

[blackbutlerjumbo]

"Well now, didn't realize I was bein' tailed. 'Ow may I assist ya?"

He adjusted his tie and bowed. That was at least how the proper folk did it, yes?

@blxndebutlering

[jupiterstupiter]

They're cringe and they are free

[batsplat]

sometimes casey throws a like on posts about valentino's wins on four wheels, got me wondering how he really feels about vale's retirement life. back in the twilight of vale's career, casey was kinda sad seeing vale content with just hitting top five. but end of last year, he said he's happy for vale's new life vibe. (https://www.tumblr.com/kwisatzworld/735598710184165376/casey-stoner-talks-about-valentino-rossi-in-an)

but man, they're like poles... casey's rebuilding his storm-hit home on the gold coast, swinging golf clubs. meanwhile, valentino's still going full throttle—aside from a vacay in ibiza, dude's been all over the map this year with car races, bike races, tests, and coaching at his academy.

I'm gonna be honest, I have zero awareness of what any of these men do on social media... don't really keep up with them post-retirement in general unless they're literally at the races, giving interviews about their careers and whatnot. so whenever someone on here mentions something like this it's very... I didn't know that but it sure is interesting!! very sweet of casey lol (also link to the gifs)

though, quick note, I wouldn't say valentino was content back in the day with just being in the top five (or lower) - it's just the idea of stopping for a long time felt worse than carrying on. from that same giornale interview, -

And what is it like to live with the idea of ​​leaving? "It's difficult to accept. I didn't give up until the end. But you understand that at forty you no longer have those homicidal instincts that you had when you were twenty-five. But it was hard. At a certain point in my career, about ten years ago, I asked myself: do I stop when I'm on the crest of a wave and retire as a world champion, or do I race until I can't stand it anymore?" Answer? "I race until I can't stand it anymore. And so I did."

it's something he had to decide for himself... of course, both marc and casey have said something along the lines of how they could never have done that themselves, how for them it's only worth it if they're winning. and, y'know, there is something about that for valentino... for all that obviously he is obsessed with winning and desperately wants to do so... he really doesn't just thrive in a fight - he needs it. and it's so interesting, in a way, when you think about just how early in his career he was flirting with the idea of walking away... and then think about how long he ended up sticking around. sure, he was always pretty clear that he would have just done something else racing-related like f1 rather than retire, but still! and in a way, it's probably the fact that he started losing that made him so determined to stick around... the malaise was at its strongest whenever he was winning, or rather, winning too easily... a motogp without valentino might have made it likelier that casey would stick around for longer, whereas a motogp with casey made it less likely that valentino would leave

but yes, casey did say motogp would be better with valentino close to the top:

casey's opinions on what counts as 'good racing' are a whole other thing I'm not going to get into right now, but, I don't know! it's fun! it's fun that casey looked at the 2013-18 period and then what came after that and went 'yeah it'd be better if valentino were involved in this'! "battling it out with these guys" - not even casey stoner is immune to the good old fashioned joys of watching valentino getting himself involved in a dogfight! very compelling of him. I don't think it's just lip service either, not least since it's not like casey is massively inclined to shoot random compliments in valentino's direction (yes, even during valentino's swansong casey did have some rather less friendly hot takes he needed to get off his chest). and... y'know, before the feud really got going casey did talk about how much he'd enjoyed watching valentino, went out with his mates to observe valentino in all his sessions and all that... given you're generally not watching valentino oohing and aahing about him hooking together a quali lap, he must have also enjoyed watching valentino race! happens to the best of us I fear

a persistent problem for a lot of valentino's rivals is how closely associated valentino has become with the very idea of motogp, which, y'know, is the thing they've dedicated their entire lives to. now, for casey this is particularly gnarly and complicated and painful because he has a severely strained relationship with the whole sport, in some ways that come back to valentino and in some ways that go beyond him. and post-retirement, it's not like casey has completely eschewed that active connection to the sport - he was a test rider, he wanted to race again in 2015 as a replacement for dani, he's worked as a rider coach. so again *wiggles hand* complicated. fundamentally though, yes, two very different outlooks. valentino was desperate to race in motogp until he couldn't any more. whereas casey? he's not even missed the racing itself:

can you imagine something more foreign to valentino than this... who loves nothing more than the thrill of the hunt, of the chase, of the kill... that is not a man who was showing up every weekend for the qualifying sessions. it's a way in which they could not be more different - and of course that's further reflected in what they've chosen to do with their time since retirement. valentino is so eternally restless, casey needed to ground himself again. valentino will not stop racing for as long as is physically possible, whereas casey is spending his days fishing... or swinging golf clubs apparently. wait a minute, you say his house was destroyed? by a tornado? ah

anyhow, that's the bit I love about them (not the tornado bit)... how they're both extremely similar and extremely different at the same time - that's the kind of tension through which the narrative juices flow... they're similar in ways you kind of have to be if you want to be very good at a sport, and very good in that sport specifically. in their commitment, their will, their passion for what they do. their competitive instincts, their need to win. how interested they are in preserving the 'soul' of their sport, how they were both firmly on the anti-electronics train for years and years... valentino being told about casey's comments in 2013 pressers and being like 'yeah I'm with him on this'... casey saying in 2018 that valentino is, and I quote, "like me: if it weren't for all these electronics that manage the bike, if the power was controlled only by the rider's right wrist, rossi would still be number one on the track". by the way, and this has absolutely zero relevance to this post, I do need to bring up this comment from the same interview because it makes me laugh:

so real, casey. I wanted drama too. anyway, that comment casey made about the 'stunning blood red' ducati being contaminated by luminous yellow or whatever - obviously in context it was anti-valentino, but it was also revealing that this is even something he cares about because he loves this sport... he wants it to remain true to itself... he regrets not having had the chance to ride the 500cc bikes that valentino was the last guy to be able to win a title on, which obviously valentino is also insanely proud of. there's little things that stand out when you cross-read their autobiographies - like for instance the deep preoccupation with the 'bike or rider' question, partly because they'd both been accused of owing their achievements to something else other than their actual ability (and of course, because they're funny like that, they do both absolutely do this to each other) (also to some extent literally every champion gets put through this, they sure do have a lot of opinions about it though). their thoughts on the importance of being honest to yourself and being honest about what you owe your success to... about not deluding yourself, of not blaming the bike when you are the one to make an error... there's plenty of interesting overlap in what they write y'know

they are both incredibly capable of holding grudges, they are both petty to a fault and will remember any offence you committed even if it was about seven years ago (genuinely casey might be even worse on this metric). and they use this to motivate themselves... they are both so so determined to prove people wrong. if they think you've wronged them, they openly admit that they use that as fuel to spur themselves on. it's the power of spite - yamaha rejected casey so he wanted to show them, nobody thought valentino could make the yamaha switch work so he wanted to rub it in honda's faces. they love to get even. they can be quite suspicious of others to the point of paranoia; there's a world in which they combine their powers to be extremely accomplished conspiracy theorists. they both have a temper - it's easier to get casey angry, but valentino is downright vicious when effectively provoked. plus, and this bit cannot be stressed enough, they are both insane. different flavours of insane, but, still, insane. if you spend enough time thinking about laguna 2008, this kind of becomes one of the key takeaways - because, okay, valentino's riding was. eh. but casey's riding? also very! eh! valentino started it but casey joined in! casey always talked about how much that race changed for him, how it taught him to be more selfish, to just race for himself... and even if it made him feel bad, the thing about casey is that he was willing to do that

but at the same time, of course they're both very different, in all the deeply obvious ways. their respective relationships to publicity, to media, to fame - valentino does struggle with it, does hate it a lot of the time, but at the end of the day he still shines in the spotlight and is an incredibly effective communicator. he's willing to play the game a lot more than casey is... although casey can play it too, if in a different way, when valentino forces him into it. casey's still willing to play it now, which is why you hear him constantly offering his commentary on that rivalry - he's selling a story, a narrative that he may genuinely believe in but that also is of course supposed to flatter him. at the end of the day, however, casey doesn't quite get why all of this has to be such a big part of the sport, why it's necessary to even have anything apart from the racing... whereas valentino has always understood why all the other stuff exists and why it's worth engaging with the public-facing side of the sport, even when he hasn't liked it

valentino loves the sport in its entirety, immediately embraced the entire circus of the paddock and found it endlessly exciting and exhilarating from the very first moment, whereas casey has often wished he could escape all parts of the sport that aren't the racing itself. valentino is someone who has spoken at length about the bonds of friendship with his team and how important they are to him, whereas casey is a man who has said his only friend in the paddock is his wife. the very strong but different connections they both have to their place of origin, and how meaningful those are to both of them, how important it is to their sense of identity... somewhere they'll always come back to. and of course there's a ruthlessness to valentino that is mostly alien to casey, if not entirely. valentino relishes the battle, whereas casey would prefer to avoid it. there are things valentino is ready to do, lines he's ready to cross, where casey doesn't even understand why you would do any of that. valentino loves having... if not an enemy, then certainly a target - and while casey is hardly a stranger to the motivating power of spite, he is more or less happy to complete his track times on an empty bit of asphalt. relatedly, he also wishes to believe that he is completely immune to any kind of psychological tactics... and sometimes he's more right than he's given credit for and sometimes he's wrong. casey is a lot more preoccupied with this rivalry than valentino is - and of course it has a far more defining role within his career than vice versa. casey walked away so much sooner than valentino did because he had grown estranged from the sport he had so loved. whereas valentino never stopped loving it, even when it hurt him, even when it could have killed him... and he never will stop loving it

this post is going to take a bit of a left field turn, sorry. but there's just something about. idk. athletes trapped in a rivalry that's so intense and so meaningful for at least one half, but that's also so about the kind of... gulf between them, the mutual lack of comprehension, where it feels like the divide is so big it might be unbridgeable... anyway, it always makes me think of a specific bit of andre agassi's autobiography where he talks about his rivalry with pete sampras. so here:

Walking up to the gate, who should I see but Pete. As always, Pete. He looks as if he's done nothing for the last month but practise, and when he wasn't practising, he was lying on a cot in a bare cell, thinking about beating me. He's rested, focused, wholly undistracted. I've always thought the differences between Pete and me were overblown by sportswriters. It seemed too convenient, too important for fans, and Nike, and the game, that Pete and I be polar opposites, the Yankees and Red Sox of tennis. The game's best server versus its best returner. The diffident Californian versus the brash Las Vegan. It all seemed like horseshit. Or, to use Pete's favorite word, nonsense. But at this moment, making small talk at the gate, the gap between us appears genuinely, frighteningly wide, like the gap between good and bad. I've often told Brad that tennis plays too big a part in Pete's life, and not a big enough part in mine, but Pete seems to have the proportions about right. Tennis is his job, and he does it with brio and dedication, while all my talk of maintaining a life outside tennis seems like just that - talk. Just a pretty way of rationalizing all my distractions. For the first time since I've known him - including the times he's beaten my brains out - I envy Pete's dullness. I wish I could emulate his spectacular lack of inspiration, and his peculiar lack of need for inspiration.

obviously the specific details of the rivalry are very different, and the two rivalries don't map neatly onto each other at all. but I don't know, it's always felt a good way of summing up that! disconnect!! the whole world might want you to be distinct from your rival for narrative purposes and you're aware of how artificial the whole thing is... but sometimes it can still be true... casey's always talking about how he never got obsessed with his rivals, how he always treated them all the same, how it was all just externally imposed onto him... which, okay, we could perhaps question the supposed lack of obsession, but it still comes back to how you don't want it to just be about you and that other guy. always you and them, them and you - and maybe you can't actually escape it because it's the truth... it's your legacy, it's fundamentally interwoven into the fabric of your career, it's why you will never truly free yourself from that narrative. "the gap between us appears genuinely, frighteningly wide, like the gap between good and bad"... you're bound together in your shared passion for this sport, but your biggest rival is also somebody who you feel like you'll never truly understand

casey may feel alienated from valentino and in doing so feel alienated from the very sport itself. whereas for valentino, casey was just what he needed. having casey was something motivating, something exciting for valentino - however annoying he found that man, he always needs something to inspire him and for a while there that something was casey. it's a rivalry that wore away at casey while at the same time it lit a fire within valentino... the 'cordial' mutual hatred they exhibited towards each other, wrapped up in this sense of mutual estrangement, it weighed more heavily on one of them than it did on the other... all these similarities between the two characters that exist alongside the violence of the contrast between them. that underlying and inescapable sense of alienation. on some level, they were always perfectly clear on who the other man was when they were fighting each other - and tailored their approach to the rivalry accordingly. but knowing doesn't quite equal empathy, it's not the same as understanding, and the distance between the pair of them inevitably remained. hey, maybe a dinner will fix it, maybe casey can explain where he was coming from to valentino and get the chance to interrogate valentino on the same. because that's what casey's expressing there, right, when he's talking about telling valentino his 'challenges' from his 'point of view'... it's not even as much about understanding as much as it is about being understood. it's about getting valentino to comprehend casey's side of things. maybe even getting valentino to care. of course, more likely than not, the dinner hasn't happened and will never happen. more likely than not, that gap will remain unbridgeable. perhaps it's too much to ask for, to ever truly know your foil. perhaps it's even more impossible to expect to be known

[realmythsmoved]

@sxcietyoftheton liked here for a starter from a Bridgerton muse and got Benedict!

"What did you say?" He asks the other person. "I don't think I heard you correctly." Of course, there's a possibility he had. But it's something he hadn't expected to hear. So he has to make sure.

[theriverdalereviewer]

everyone jumping to team kamala we will never experience true freedom in this country

[howthesleeplesswander]

“Stay down, Childe.” Percy was tempted to add a “please” in there. Against his pride, and definitely against his character, or maybe just his image in the violent blue eyes staring up at him now— He’d sooner be caught dead than begging, but it took until this second to really feel the effects of their battle. Blinding and deafening adrenaline petered away just enough to allow a few aches to seep through: a faint tremor in his legs, a burning in his lungs while he chased his breath . . . Percy knew Childe was no pushover. Distantly, he had been aware of a few attacks hitting their mark. Something dull but fresh gnawed at his waist: warm, wet, stinging with every inhale—

If the harbinger kept pushing this—and Archons knew he would—Percy would meet him halfway, sure. But how long could he go before crumpling to his own knees . . . ?

As long as I have to, he told himself. No more questions.

He flexed his fingers, and the tendrils of water encircling Childe’s wrists, pinning his arms behind his back, tightened into something solid enough to pass for rope, yanked him down further into that kneel. In Percy’s other hand, Riptide was aimed readily at an exposed throat; he pressed it just close enough to draw a thin line of red as he moved a single step in. “I’m not gonna tell you again.”

// (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ from @tidaltow, obviously~ maaaaaybe a less friendly lil duel? Childe’s getting up to shit and percy’s just you have been stopped ✋

Answered! || @tidaltow

He hadn't expected this to be so thrilling.

The kid was tougher than he looked; Childe would give him that much. Water clashed in relentless, vicious blows, dappling the grass around them with droplets that would have resembled the early morning dew, if not for the occasional splatters of crimson.

It was hard to say how long they'd been at it, but their battle finally came to a pause thanks to the clever little trap now binding Childe's arms. Though his limbs were restricted, it had the opposite effect on the fire in his veins: surging hotter, howling louder. The wildness in his eyes never faltered.

"You don't really think this is over, do you?" the Harbinger taunted, full of maniacal glee even as he felt a prick at his throat and a heated drip of blood ooze down towards his collar. His grin cleaved wider. "Tell you what: I'll give you to the count of three. By then, you'd better give your best shot at cutting me down...or run while you have the chance."

For Childe to show even a shred of mercy was a rarity—no, more like a miracle. But there was something about this kid that made the Harbinger want to give him a fighting chance. Sure, he looked unassuming, but there was a distinct brutality behind his strikes, a spark of something vicious behind wide, blue eyes. Something that reminded Childe of himself.

"I'd take the offer, one way or the other." He inclined his chin, fearlessly edging delicate skin against the other's blade in a clear challenge. "Wait too long, and it'll be too late to back down."

As he spoke, a new color joined the oceanic glow of his Vision: purple spilled from within his coat, a malicious prelude of the consequences should Percy refuse.

"One..." Black pigment crept over his clothes, like snakes slithering over the fabric until the darker shade took over.

"Two..." Static electricity filled the air, raising the hairs on the back of his neck, shocks prickling in the water surrounding his wrists.

In the bated breath before the trigger, Childe stared unblinking at his opponent. Expectant. Eager.

The tension stretched just long enough to give the kid one last chance. Then—

"Three!"

A burst of wicked purple illuminated the battlefield as lightning arced across Childe's body. Electro gathered at his wrists—burning red, swollen rings on his skin that didn't even register through the adrenaline—until the shackles broke with a thunderous crack. In an instant, his spear materialized in hand, and he swept the blade at Percy's legs as he rolled back onto his feet. "Come on, then!" he shouted in delight. "I'll teach you not to interfere!"

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

Okay, there's a game that I like to play with the people I know, and I'm in the mood now...

It's called (very creatively) the "random questions game" and it is pretty self-explanatory, I just ask the random questions that come to mind.

The questions can be weird, normal, specific, general, really anything... And you can respond, choose not to respond, or respond and counter with your own question

So mutuals, prepare yourselves...

[bonefall]

FYI, I have reblogged your answer to my Tallstar asked, in case tumblr hasn't let you know, which I would not be surprised if it didn't.

I just tried to RB your post for a good while and I didn't even seem to get a notification that you rb'd it, but I can see it on your blog?? Functional Websight.

I'll respond by restating some of your question, hope that's cool!

But, if Firestar was prophecised to save the clans… does that mean that StarClan itself has realized they're wrong?

That's a very good question. The answer is that StarClan's prophecies aren't necessarily things they want. It's what will be. What could be. StarClan is a lot more mysterious here, and I plan to leave it more on the vague side, so I'll end it with this; They don't make the prophecies, they simply relay them.

Is StarClan split between those who still support the ways of the old, and those who promote the new?

StarClan is a shifting entity. Eventually, cats fade away when they've seen their descendants become distant strangers, becoming irrelevant to the living cats, and they're ready to rest.

There are ancient spirits (usually ones featured in legends) but at any given point in time, StarClan is much more full of cats who died with a fresh perspective. There is absolutely a schism during times of great upheaval, which smooths out over time.

Of course, cats of legend have been around for a VERY long time, and their staying power means that they do have a disproportionate amount of power over StarClan. Individual spirits are ALSO able to mess with the living at times, such as Ashfur, even even Birchface, who in the rewrite is the one who sent Ravenwing the three-reeds sign.

Why would Bluestar bring WindClan back, when her culture tells her not to?

Because Bluestar has a new ideology, and it was formed because she had friends from every Clan. They called themselves the Forget-Me-Nots. She opposed Thistleclaw in every way and everything that he ever stood for, sacrificing her family to stop the way he could make ThunderClan more cruel.

I feel strongly about the way that in-canon, Firestar learned how to lead because of Bluestar before her madness arc; she was always contrasted to the other leaders in TPB. Crookedstar was happy to keep using WindClan's vacated land. Nightstar engaged in revenge. Even Tallstar, who everyone seems to remember as being nothing but nice, still attacked ThunderClan at points and furiously insisted that WindClan did not owe them a debt.

But Bluestar... Bluestar was different. And that's something I want to preserve. Fire Alone would save the Clan, but Bluestar herself lighted that spark.

In a way, it's another one of fate's cruel jokes, that Thistleclaw's disciple would eventually clash with Bluestar's for control of clan culture.

[blxxditout]

Is it odd that the first place he thought to go to when the world ended, was home? He hasn't spoken to his mother in years, and he's sure that his father won't even look at him. Not that he cares, why would he care? Sid can't bother to remember what were the last words exchanged between them before he set out to live on his own. Jun, on the other hand, was whom he was far more concerned with. His twin had gone off to become something, was well known and liked by all. When he'd left, he thought he'd be abandoned too, never being anything more than a fleeting thought of the past they had.

Over the phone, he sounded offended by that. His brother had told him everything that had happened in the last couple of years, between their parents and between his life. He'd told him how much he wished that he could've been there to see it all. Sid wished he was there now. Instead of stewing in his contempt at the world, he'd have been right on the horizon, looking out with his twin. That might not be possible now as he stares at the rubble.

A root struck the house at an odd angle, pushing it up diagonally. It kind of looked slanted, like the house was leaning on a wall that wasn't there. If it was destroyed now, he's sure that the whole thing would collapse. There shouldn't be anyone inside, he thinks, his parents are smart enough to know when to evacuate. His brother wouldn't be here either, he was out of state to go play ball in the big leagues. Knowing that, he didn't expect to find any brittle corpses in the wake of where he used to live. He needed shelter, and what better place to go than one's own childhood home.

Trudging up past the dusty steps, he held a hand to his nose, not eager to breathe any of it in as he pushed past the door. Surprisingly, it didn't require much work, thanks to the root of that demon tree coming up as it did. Should he be thankful for it? Looking around, he can see that there isn't a lot that's changed. Mom always had that rule of hers: if it isn't broken don't fix it. Dad was more materialistic than her anyhow, but she didn't let him fix much even if it was broken. His hand ghosts along the wall, feeling the old wallpaper beneath the pads of his fingers.

The nostalgia makes his heart churn. When him and Jun were kids, they'd take their crayons and color along the wall, hoping to add life to the dull and bland decor. Mom got so mad her whole face turned red. It brings a smile to his face as he walks past the hallway and into the living room. That old beige couch is still there, albeit a lot dirtier than he remembers. He looks up, and sure enough, it's where the Qliphoth root strikes the house. He should probably get to that, but he's too busy with exploring the old, trodden down home. Sid heads up the stairs, placing a hand on the wooden banister as he ascends.

It smells like mildew and copper, and he can see that the root keeps going up. From that direction... the guest room is blocked off. A shame, the bed in there was really nice. Nicer than the bunk beds that him and Jun slept on anyhow. When they'd have fights, Jun would leave him to go sleep in there, since he was on the top bunk. When he reached the top of the stairs, the stench was only strengthened. It wouldn't have stuck out to him as much as it would have if he didn't recognize the distinct tang in it.

That's blood.

He knows, because he's smelt it before. He woke up in it, almost as if it had been branded on his brain. Their room was collapsed, the ceiling still holding on tight as he went straight for the door. It's not mom, nor dad. And it can't be Jun. Sid knows that, but he still hesitates on opening the door. He doesn't know if he wants to see it, if he wants to glimpse at whatever it is that's on the other side.

The door doesn't open when he tries to push it open, thinking he could get it over with in one go. To enter, he's going to have to use more force. Taking a step back, he rams into it, but it doesn't break. Alright, one more time. He takes another step back, lowering his shoulder to use to try and force it open. There's something in front of the door, but maybe, just maybe he can push it open if he's strong enough. Try harder. Sid grunts with the effort, gripping the knob hard and pushing past the door in his way. He can hear the drawer drag on the carpet as he inches in.

Whoever is here was smart to barricade the door with that, especially if they're injured. Although, he's worried when he doesn't hear a response from the alleged person on the other side.

"Hello? I'm not a monster so don't--", he starts, but stops when he catches a glimpse of a hand on his brother's bed. A pale red.

"Hm...", he opens it enough to slip in to see the harvested remains. It was freaky seeing that through the city, but even worse to know that it was in his own (old)home.

There was someone who seemed to be trying to get some rest, or maybe making a prayer in their final moments. Glancing off to the side he could see that another root had split off from the other one and began to worm its way through his room. The blood has dried and festered, and the hole in the wall brings a breeze that blows on the husk. The poor bastard was withering away here, right on Jun's bed. He walked around it, and sat down on the other side.

"I'm sorry that this had to be your grave", he said, speaking to the dead. His hands folded together as he rested on his knees, looking at the burrowed root. The demons seemed to have attacked this person, and they tried to hide it out in here, but the root must've got to them. But something isn't right.

That's kind of an odd position to die in. Leaning over the bed like that. It looks more like they're slumped over, even while kneeling. Sid glances at the harvested human once more, lowering his gaze to see the smaller body underneath it. Oh... his breath catches as he realizes it now. The little arms wrapped around the trunk of the body while the parent tried to protect them. In their final moments, what did they think was happening?

His hands tighten in their hold of each other, his eyes straining hard around the small hands trying to hold onto the other body. Gone. The weight of his own makes the hand crumble, and break. Reacting quickly, he rises to try and catch it, but it's already disintegrating. The arm starts to go too, becoming a fine powder as the child's body starts to go too. Clumsily he starts to fret over them, but the most he can do now is back away to preserve what was left behind.

Idiot.

He stares at the mess he's made for a second longer, before deciding that he doesn't want to be here at all.

[4mage]

@starbeambully / starter call.

"alright ... big important question for you." marley asks, a bit of a playful smile tugging at the corners of their lips. "coffee or tea ?? like ... which one do you like more ??" they've been thinking about expanding their tea menu at the shop, so the question has been on their mind.

[mumbles-pear]

Mumble’s Commissions

—

↓ Will/Won’t Do’s/TOS under the cut ↓

Deviant Art Link / Toyhouse Link

[collarus]

♡ for a starter.

[floratics]

✧˖°.  CH : SOOJIN  for @ubiquitousidol​ 

there aren’t many events where you find both streamers  &  idols in attendance ,  but this award ceremony is one of the biggest of the year .  with soojin’s steady - rising popularity in the beauty community ,  she isn’t entirely surprised by the invite .  it’s ideal to make some connections here :  there are a bunch of new faces  &  plenty of time for networking before the award show begins .

though ,  however necessary this aspect of her profession may be ,  soojin prefers to take socialization in small doses .  as the evening wears on , the amount of people  (  rather , the amount of fake posturing / exaggerated humility she has to affect  )  starts to wear on her nerves .  she bows , announces her departure from the table , and heads for the toilet .

she makes her way to the backstage area .  with it’s spidery pathways of hallways  &  doors ,  it was only a matter of time before she got lost .  she pushes one of the unmarked doors open ,  positive she was on the right path ,  &  startles when she finds someone behind it .

“ i’m really sorry for troubling you !  ”  she flusters ,  blush rising on her cheeks  (  she’d wanted to meet some new faces ,  sure  --  but not like this !  ) ,  “  i was just looking for the bathroom  &  got lost along the way .  ”

[marshmellowtea]

you have no idea how safe and seen that post was for me. ive been dying to find other people in the d/hmis community with the same views on fiction.

ack sorry i forgot to respond to this!!

i'm really happy to hear that, anon :') tbh i feel like i've been kinda quieter about my stance on this than i used to be (for a variety of reasons but worries about harassment have been up there) but i never wanna outright hide it because like....it's important to me ofc, and also with how hostile the landscape has been around fiction discourse i think it's important to let people know explicitly that there are people who think the anti mindset is bs. coming to that conclusion was really freeing for me in a lot of ways, despite the risk of harassment, and it's nice to find other profic people in fandom spaces, especially those that feel swarmed with antis. it can feel super isolating and stressful, and i know how much it helps when you see other people in your fandom openly say hey, no, this mindset is actually not okay.

[martyrizing]

&&. EMPEROR ; DIVERGENT starter for @silenthcwl​

Boredom. Its dark and cold hands did have a tendency of crawling up and around Belos's neck like a curse. One would think after being so busy, so packed with plans of the days to come that the Emperor would never be trifled with a simple emotion such as boredom. Yet here he was, knuckles pressed against the masked cheek with his elbow resting, supporting him as he leaned to the side in his throne.

Perhaps. He wished faintly in the back of his own mind. It would be interesting for once if something troublesome did occur.

[fiercely-raging-writer]

hai, jai! gonna send an angsty-ish word for teh ask game: and it's 'fade'. :3 - 🔮⛈

hey enchant!! thanks for the ask <33 this was an interesting one to write fjkdhhkhskd

-

i remember when everything was lush- bright greens in the garden and my little brother's clothes still a shade of obnoxious orange. the lights would blind my eyes, and i could see the movies clear as day. my hands were solid to touch.

i remember when everything was no longer lush. i remember walking outside one day, and noticing the plants graying, of all the things to do- i remember watering them and moving them to the sunlight that was lighter than usual. maybe it was the clouds. i don't know; my memory is starting to deteriorate. i remember wanting to steal a shirt from my twin but realising the colour i wanted it for was no longer there.

what was the colour of it again?

i remember putting my hands on my laptop to write, maybe to leave a record about the colours going away and the plants dying and my mother's eyes dimming as the hour passed, and seeing my hands go through the keyboard, through the desk. i could see through my fingers.

i remember

wait, what was i trying to say...?

huh. i can't remember anymore. i would lie down for a while to rest, but i would sink through the bed.

word challenge!! send me any word :)