#also that cold we had in asia

[nametakensff]

I'm so upset. I woke up with my sinuses all scratchy and have been trying to ignore it again thinking surely I can't have another fucking virus only a month after that evil one but my sister just called me from work and said she's been feeling the same way

I'm so fucking sick of this. It's the fifth time I've gotten ill this year. Never in my life have I gotten ill so consistently, especially not with the illnesses being so intense, even when I had a terrible lifestyle and didn't look after myself. I genuinely think c*vid fucked me up last summer and my immune system hasn't been the same since 😣

[thevoidstaredback]

True to their word, the second the sun finished setting over Amity Park, Illinois, the ghosts fled the town.

This presented several problems. The most pressing of which was the fact that they now had a Missing Persons case to deal with where the prime suspects have just fled the area. The second problem was that the Justice League had no way of tracking any of the ghosts.

Superman had cleared all of the US Bases in Europe, Asia, Australia, and Africa. The Flash had managed to clear all the US Gov. Bases in every state East of Idaho, Utah, and Arizona. No leads anywhere.

The ghosts were quiet as they left the town. So quiet, in fact, that the only reason the Justice League and the two accompanying JLD members even knew they were leaving was because they saw them leaving. And even then, they'd been fading out of visibility, so they'd had to rely on Red Huntress's confirmation that they were leaving.

Robin had taken his team, Young Justice, into the town to work rescue and touch base with Red Huntress in person. They were also given the charge on looking for Daniel Fenton. Just because the primary suspects had fled didn't mean that the trail was cold.

"Do we have any way to track them yet?" Batman honest to god growled to Constantine and Zatanna.

Constantine, honest to god, growled back. "Not since you last asked two minutes ago!"

"Lay off, B!" Zatanna snapped, "We're doing our best, and your hovering isn't helping!"

The Dark Knight switched bases, tuning his comm back to listen to Superman and The Flash. "Any luck, you two?"

"Nope," Superman sighed, "I'm just finishing up in Alaska and Canada. There's not even a hint as to the US Gov. knowing anything about magic, let alone another dimension." There was a brief pause. "I'm heading down to Africa next."

Batman grunted in response, filing the information away. Whoever was covering these tracks was good. Way better than the US. Government usually was. They could've outsourced, but they're not that stupid. "Flash?"

"Nothing on my end," he whispered back, "I've just finished checking Idaho, Utah, and Arizona; I'm in Nevada now. I'll be heading down to SoCal before moving up to finish in Washington."

Again, Batman grunted his affirmation. How were these guys staying so hidden? And how were they keeping a ghost trapped? Hopefully, they'd managed to corner the people they were looking for. If not, well, he didn't think there was time to do another sweep of the world. It's been a day already, and a lot can happen in a day. A lot more can happen in two days. Three is pushing it. Any more than three days and they risk an actual war, more than they already are.

Batman didn't sigh as he switch comm channels again. "Nightwing."

"Batman." Nightwing responded with equal stoneyness.

"Anything to report?"

"There's no Government bases in Bludhaven. Not official, not shady. I've been over the entire city twice now."

"Let me know if that changes."

"Fuck off."

He switched channels again. "Oracle, anything on your end?"

"Nothing," she answered, "Nothing in Gotham that needs your attention, though there are rumors about another Arkham break happening within the next week. As for your JL case? Also nothing. Though, there is a weird firewall around pretty much any information around Amity Park that I can't get through."

"Turn in for now, Oracle, I'll have Cyborg take a look at the firewall."

"Alright, B. Goodnight." She clicked off, but Batman knew she wouldn't be turning in for a few hours.

Batman switched back to his empty channel. Before deciding against it and connecting to Robin. "Report."

There was a few seconds before Robin answered. "Other than Daniel 'Danny' Fenton, everyone else in town is accounted for. All of the ghosts are gone. We tried to get a look at the rifts that Z and Constantine mentioned, but Jasmine Fenton - Daniel's older sister - won't let even her parents near it. Did you know that it's in their basement? What a stupid-"

"Robin."

"Right. We don't know where the second rift is, but there's nothing coming from either of them. I think it's safe to assume that nothing else is going to be coming out right now."

"Red Huntress?"

"Is running recon with Superboy over the town. They'll be back in a few minutes."

"And the rest of you?"

"We're at Town Hall."

"Good. Daniel?"

"His trail's cold. Jasmine Fenton was the last of his family to see him yesterday, but that's all we've gotten from her or her parents. We did manage to find two of his friends, Samantha 'Sam' Manson and Tucker Foley, but they claim to have not seen him since yesterday afternoon."

"You believe them?"

"Hard not to. We don't really have much to go on other than 'missing boy that no one has seen in nearly twenty-four hours'. And with no peaceful way to look at either dimension rift, we're a bit stuck."

Batman hummed. "Keep working on it." He switched back into his open channel.

Robin had specified that there was no 'peaceful' way of looking into the rifts. Without the ghosts, then the only things in the way were Jasmine Fenton and the unknown location of the second rift. He could break into the Fenton residence and incapacitate Jasmine to look at it, but he'd have no idea what to look for. Sneaking Zatanna or Constantine in with him will be too hard to be convenient.

"Zatanna?" he asked.

The magician was obviously beyond irritated, but she responded. "What."

"Do you know where the two rifts are?"

"Under the Fenton house and under the mayor's house, why?"

"Hm." Interesting. Why does the mayor have a rift under his house? It doesn't excuse either of them, but the Fenton's have made it because they're ghost hunters. What does the mayor need one for? He called Cyborg. "I need you to crack the firewall over information from Amity Park Illinois."

"Anything else?"

"Look into the town's mayor for me."

"Got it, Batman."

Part 4 Part 6

[sinizade]

I made a little clothing guide for some Dragon Age regions

Some may not be exactly the same as the references that appear in the game or in the concepts, but I wanted to give a little of my vision to the guide.

Ferelden

Ferelden is close to the Frostback Mountains and Orlais and as Leliana and Zevran once said, Ferelden is cold, so I thought it would be a cool idea to put on thick clothes with a lot of fur so the Fereldans can protect themselves from the cold.

Tevinter

Dragon Age 4 is approaching and it's already evident that we're going to be in the Tevinter Imperium, so I discovered that a lot of Tevinter clothing was inspired by clothing from the Byzantine Empire

Orlais

We've already seen in the game and in the concept art that Orlais is all about being flamboyant and flashy and what's more flamboyant and flashy than mid-1500s fashion?

Antiva

Home to the two loves of my life, Zevran and Josephine, Antiva fashion is something I really love… The puffy arms, the breast-enhancing corsets, the leather vests, idk, I just like Antiva

Nevarra

I don't exactly have much to say about nevarra, but I did some research and found some concepts that I thought were interesting, I also saw in some places that said that the kingdom was inspired by the traditional culture of Spain

So I'll leave two references here

One for the traditional clothes and one for what I imagine might look like Nevarra dress

Frostback Basin

In Inquisition we can see that the clothes they wear are quite furry and well protected from the cold, so I think it would be a good idea to inspire some of their clothing in Inuit clothing

The Dalish (1/2/3/4/5)

Well, for the Dalish I had MANY ideas, among them think about adding traditional clothes from some tribes, native Brazilian/American, African, Hawaiian, Inca, Aztec and Mayan

Remembering that I made a great mix of traditional clothes from several tribes and not just one, and that I also have 0 intention of disrespecting any of them, if I have put something wrong or disrespectful you can be free to alert me

Orzammar

I knew little about Turkey, but when I went to research I ended up enchanted with some of the traditional clothes when I went to research about it and I thought that this style would go well with Orzammar

Par Vollen

For Par Vollen, I had a bit of trouble finding it, but I think clothing a little bit closer to the ancient Egyptian style would be something interesting. The light fabrics, the golden jewels adorning the body, idk, I like that idea

Rivain

I was doing some research again and found that part of Rivain's look was inspired by traditional clothing from Islamic Spain and Southeast Asia , so I looked around a bit for something to put here and add one more kingdom to the list

I hope you people enjoyed! Soon I will add more realms as soon as I finish my research

[f14fun]

dc it-girl (mv1) - chapter 1

synopsis: in which case y/n, an it-girl that hails from the united state's capital, washington dc, meets max verstappen in an unexpected occurence at the redbull showrun in her home city. both not knowing each other, immediately find themselves in a once-in-a-lifetime love story.

general info: !fem!poc!black-reader x mv1 faceclaim: asia monet ray + other girls from pinterest/insta!

smau + prose (3.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

things to note: yes, in this story i am changing the characters for a bit, i know that david coulthard was driving, but in this case we can pretend that that was max. also, he will be in dc for a publicity event for a week. please let me know if there is anything else you need me to clarify. happy reading! 💙📖💭

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

yourusername

liked by florence.jwilliams, user1 and 119,012 others

yourusername: bad gyals thrive in dc

view comments:

florence.jwilliams: babes we looked so hot today xx

yourusername: i knowww, but i was dying like a bitch in the heat 🙄🙄

florence.jwilliams: might visit somewhere cold this summer j to get away from the sun tbh 😭

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

Florence was always looking for shit.

She was always looking for shit for us to do, places to go, food to eat, but sometimes, it was a lot.

Like today. Although it was only the nineteenth of April, the sun was blaring down on the little city of D.C. (namely, the District of Columbia, for all of you non-natives) like an absolute bitch. And I, immune to alcohol poisoning, foot fungus, and slightly-immune to bad breath, was not absolutely not immune to the wrathful rays of the sun.

Zilch. Nada.

So when I originally left the house in a cardigan, I immediately went back in to change into a tank top and jorts. It was hot. I was hot. And Florence wanted to spend the whole day walking around the city doing God knows what.

That's how we ended up stumbling across a parade.

Every know and then when I would visit D.C., I would sometimes almost accidentally show up right in time for an event. Sometimes I happened to love the event, other times, I sometimes left, queasy, dizzy, and claustrophobic.

I wasn't sure what to make out of today's event.

At first, when looking from an outsider's perspective, it seemed as if I had walked into one large, large, cult meeting. Oh no.

Every one was adorned in shapes of navy, cheering, screaming, and worse of them all, holding a goddamn can of RedBull's Energy drink.

The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and caffeine, a cocktail potent enough to keep even the most exhausted of souls awake for days.

Banners fluttered wildly in the hands of fervent fans, each emblazoned with logos and slogans that screamed allegiance.

Vendors weaved through the throng, hawking more cans of the ubiquitous energy drink, their cries barely audible over the din.

Occasionally, a shower of confetti would rain down, sticking to the sweat-drenched skin of the masses, creating a mosaic of glittering chaos. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the raw energy of thousands of voices united in a singular, frenzied purpose.

Ew.

RedBull being one of my least favorite sodas (can you even call something you vehemently dislike a favorite at this point?) already made me additionally pissy.

So when Florence and I had just arrived at D.C. and walked towards Pennsylvania Avenue, it was too late for us to realize that the event was actually ending, and the crowd was dispersing.

Even as a girl who hails from the city, I do get quite nervous and claustrophobic around too many people. So to my utter horror, people from the flood of the RedBull cult were heading straight towards us, scattering like a pack of fleas.

Too late.

I had lost my tight grip (I swear I was holding on to her hand super duper tightly!) on Florence's hand, and we ended up getting separated from each other. Calling her name would be no use in this throng of people.

My heart pounded in my chest as I desperately scanned the sea of navy shapes, each person indistinguishable from the next in the dimming light.

Panic set in, and I could feel the beginnings of a cold sweat on the back of my neck. I tried to push my way through the crowd, but it felt like swimming against a relentless tide. People brushed past me, some nearly knocking me over in their haste to leave.

The overwhelming noise of their chatter, laughter, and the occasional burp of a RedBull can opening filled the air, making it impossible to concentrate.

It was gross. It was disgusting. I was disgusted.

I spun around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Florence’s distinctive red scarf, but all I saw were faceless masses. My phone! I fumbled in my pocket, my fingers trembling as I tried to pull it out without dropping it. Just as I managed to get a hold of it, someone bumped into me, and the phone slipped from my grasp, landing with a sickening thud on the pavement.

“Dammit!” I muttered under my breath, crouching down to retrieve it, praying it wasn’t shattered. As I picked it up, I glanced around again, my heart sinking. Florence was nowhere to be seen.

In this crowd of sickeningly electric people over an energy drink, I was dead. Six feet under. Tired, and I had just gotten to D.C..

I looked around in despair, realizing that I must have walked a few blocks without even noticing, my mind too frazzled by the chaos and my separation from Florence.

My phone was clutched tightly in my hand, my lifeline in this moment of utter confusion. I tried to call Florence, but there was no signal. "Damn this shitty data!" I cursed under my breath, feeling my frustration bubble over. The crowd seemed to close in around me, their excited chatter and laughter a stark contrast to my growing panic.

My fingers tapped frantically at the screen, hoping that maybe, just maybe, a bar of signal would appear and rescue me from this nightmare. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, the kind that starts as a dull throb and quickly escalates into a pounding, relentless pain.

The one goddamn day I had left the house without my morning coffee and this shit decided to happen to me...

In a desperate attempt, I switched my phone to airplane mode and back again, praying for a miracle. But nothing changed. The crowd jostled me from all sides, pushing and pulling like a relentless tide, each shove adding to my rising sense of helplessness.

I glanced around, trying to find a familiar landmark or a quieter spot to regroup, but all I saw were waves of navy shapes and faces blurred by motion and anxiety.

"Florence!" I shouted again, my voice barely carrying above the din. The energy drink-fueled chaos was suffocating, a cacophony of noise and movement that seemed designed to disorient and overwhelm. I caught sight of a bench a few feet away and made a beeline for it, hoping to gain some semblance of stability.

I was in a twisted, sick, alternative fever dream where my nightmare fuel was in fact RedBull™, ha ha ha.

Whatever, I could probably find her somewhere around the city, I mean, it wasn't that big...right?

So there I was, in D.C., by myself. Not like I wanted to go in the first place that morning, but whatever.

Lost in thought, I was just wandering around, not really concentrating on anything in particular. Horrible city instincts, might I add. Because of my absentmindedness, I clearly did not notice when I walked into someone.

More like someone's RedBull drink walked into me.

I could not escape the nightmare fuel fever dream RedBull™ agenda, couldn't I.

Now I was extremely pissed off. The icy liquid soaked through my shirt, a cold shock that made me gasp and snap back to reality.

Looking up, I was two milliseconds away from berating whoever spilled this devil-drink all over me. But my harsh words died on the tip of my tongue the very instant that I looked up.

I was looking at a man. But not just any regular man. An extremely handsome man.

His startling icy turquoise eyes connected with mine. His stubble, a little overgrown, looked so hot. His mousy, brown touseled hair gave him a nonchalant yet strangely put-together look, and I was all in for it. And I, a girl who never stops talking, I was rendered speechless.

From the first glance, everything about him seemed perfect.

Except for the fact that he just spilled RedBull all over my white tank top and he was even wearing RedBull merch, from head to toe. Like who does that? What fashion choices...

He gave me a sheepish smile, clearly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice smooth and sincere. "I didn't see you there." His soft, European (?) accent lulled me to silence in an instance.

I wanted to be mad, I really did, but his charm was disarming. "It's fine," I managed to say, trying to suppress the butterflies in my stomach. "Accidents happen."

"Let me help you," he offered, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Kleenex tissues. He reached out towards me, seemingly wanting to put his hands on my shirt.

"Oh, oh, that's okay," I said, freaking out internally. If this handsome European man touched me that close to my boobs I might just have to propose to him that very instant.

"No, no, no, I insist," he said, his accent getting thicker, clearly not understanding my drift. He was too handsome to be doing this shit, I swear.

He came closer towards me, and I instinctively backed up a bit more. Not catching my drift (once again), he took a larger stride towards me. I, unprepared for this wild encounter, didn't step backwards in time, so the sexy European man in all of his glory, collided into me.

And down we went.

It must've been a funny sight to see from the average passerby. Them just minding their business. Maybe walking their dog. Or perhaps getting a morning lattee.

Bam.

Lying in the middle of the street are two people. Just there.

I would've hit my head on the pavement and probably cracked my scull wide open if not for the RedBull man. He had cradled one arm around my head, the other wrapped tightly around my waist. I think (?) he was helping me to try to stop the fall.

To no avail, we still fell.

What he disregarded, though, was when he tried to stop the fall, was the reason why we were falling in the first place. As grabbed my head as we fell, he also let go of the RedBull can. So now, free in the wind and open towards the chaos of the District of Columbia, the RedBull can fell.

Fell where? You may ask. It fell over us. It fell everywhere. The sticky, icky drink splattered across both of our faces, its cold, sugary droplets clinging to our skin like a caffeinated rain shower. The can, released from his grasp, seemed to defy gravity for a split second, twisting in the air before gravity's inevitable pull sent it crashing down.

The can hit the ground with a soft thud, its contents erupting in a fizzy explosion of energy. The liquid sprayed outward in all directions, catching us both off guard.

Streams of RedBull arced through the air, some landing on nearby pedestrians who stared in disbelief, while others formed tiny puddles on the sidewalk, reflecting the cloudy yet impeccably humid D.C. sky above.

For a moment, him and I laid on top of each other (weird and freaky, I know), frozen in a tableau of absurdity, our faces now adorned with streaks of sticky red liquid.

A passerby, caught in the crossfire, chuckled as they hurried past, muttering something about needing to wash their dog now. It was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy, and despite my initial shock and embarrassment, I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

And you may think, oh wow, that is horrible. That must hurt. Your joints, your back, your legs. And to that I say, yes, yes, and very much absolutely yes.

The very sexy (slightly less sexy, now that we were mangled on the disgusting sidewalk) European man was laying on me with all his bodyweight, and it very much hurt.

To make matters worse, our faces collided. You ask, where did your faces specifically collide?

Our lips. Our lips collided, and they touched.

And me like the dumbass I am, when I see a face coming towards mine unexpectedly, eyes closed, and especially a face who's male.... I puckered up.

Yes, I was stupid.

Now, I was on the floor, sticky, and kissing a stranger.

Out of context, that sounds like a funny and strange sentence. But this whole scenario in the first place was out of context, so bear with me. I mean, how often do you end up on the ground, covered in energy drink, and accidentally kissing a stranger in the middle of the day?

It was like something out of a quirky rom-com (okay, more like the evil-twisted beginning to one of those abduction horror stories grown-ups tell you when you are a kid), except I never imagined I'd be the protagonist.

But in that split second, with the taste of RedBull lingering on our lips and the chaos of the city swirling around us, there was an inexplicable spark. It wasn't just the caffeine rush; it was a moment of shared laughter and unexpected connection amidst the sticky mess.

In this moment, I was either going to die because he was about to kidnap me, or sheerly die out of embarrassment. Or, I would will myself to die, this was not happening to me.

He pulled back, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asked, his accent making his words sound even more sincere.

I tried to laugh it off, but the awkwardness of the situation was hard to shake. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… sticky." I wiped at my face, feeling the sugary residue cling to my skin.

He helped me to my feet, brushing off his clothes with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to… I mean, that was not… you know," he stammered, clearly flustered.

"It's okay," I reassured him, despite feeling mortified myself. "Really, it's fine. Just a little... unexpected."

He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. He winced, as he realized that his fingers as well as his hair smelled like RedBull. "Well, this is definitely not how I imagined meeting someone today."

"Me neither," I admitted, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and amusement. "But hey, at least it's a memorable encounter."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess this is one way to make an impression. I'm Max, by the way. Professional RedBull spiller and accidental kisser."

I laughed, the tension easing. "Nice to meet you, Max. I'm Y/N. Apparently, I'm your victim for today."

"Victim? More like an unsuspecting hero," he replied with a playful grin. "Seriously, though, I'm really sorry about all this. Can I at least buy you a coffee to make up for it?"

"Well, considering you saved me from cracking my skull open, I think I can let you off the hook," I said, trying to sound casual while still feeling a bit flustered. "And coffee sounds good."

"Great! I know a place just around the corner. And I promise, no more RedBull," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. (Yeah, the biggest lie I was ever told. Do not trust sexy men, they are all liars)

As we walked towards the café, the awkwardness of our first meeting began to fade into a shared sense of humor about the absurdity of the situation. Max continued to apologize, making light-hearted comments about his job with RedBull and his less-than-perfect coordination skills.

"You know," Max started with a grin, "I guess I should add 'professional accidental kisser' to my resume now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not sure how many job openings there are for that, but you'd definitely stand out."

"Well, it's all about making a memorable first impression, right?" Max replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Definitely memorable," I agreed, taking a playful jab. "Though next time, maybe aim for something less sticky?"

Max feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, it's not every day you get to meet someone while wearing your finest RedBull cologne."

"I have to admit," I said with a smirk, "you wear it well."

Max chuckled, nudging me playfully. "Hey, it's an acquired scent. You'll get used to it."

"And here I thought coffee was supposed to be the only thing brewing today," I teased, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Who says we can't have a double shot of excitement?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful flirtation, feeling myself relax even more in his company. "Well, as long as it doesn't involve any more airborne beverages, I'm all in."

Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy our little RedBull shower?"

"Let's just say I prefer my caffeine in a cup," I replied with a grin, sipping my coffee and meeting his gaze over the rim. "So, Max, what other talents do you have besides professional beverage mishaps?"

He leaned back, pretending to ponder the question seriously. "Well, I can juggle three balls at once. And I'm pretty good at making people laugh, unintentionally, most of the time."

"I can see that," I said, laughing softly. "You've definitely brightened up my day, unintentionally." Continuing, I said, "I was lost in that throng, no, no, no, cult of people wearing RedBull on Penn Ave. It was absolutely horrible, never again."

He guffawed loudly, so loudly, at my slightly funny joke, I for a second, thought that there was an underlying joke in my statement that I had not caught (spoiler alert, there was).

Max guffawed loudly, his laughter infectious. "Oh, I'm sorry," he managed between chuckles, "but you have to admit, it makes for a great story."

"You find this funny?" I asked, feigning offense while trying not to laugh myself. "I was traumatized by energy drink enthusiasts!"

"Hey, at least you made it out alive," Max quipped, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "And here you are, sharing your harrowing tale with a fellow survivor."

"Survivor?" I raised an eyebrow, pretending to assess him critically. "Or secret admirer of RedBull?"

Max shrugged, his smile mischievous. "Maybe a bit of both. It's an acquired taste, you know."

"You are just saying that as a cult member, I can't really trust what you say still. I am so sorry, but you could not pay me to drink that can of dog piss," I jokingly rolled my eyes.

Max burst into laughter, his amusement filling the air around us. "Dog piss? That's a new one! Trust me, I'm not here to convert you," he said, grinning widely. "But if you ever change your mind, I'll be here with a fresh can and an open mind."

"Hmmm... okay," I reluctantly said. (Yeah, fat chance you would get me to drink RedBull willingly)

"That only made him laugh louder. "So I've heard," Max replied with a grin, clearly taking my comment in good humor.

I chuckled, feeling a sense of relief that he wasn't offended by my playful jab. "I mean, it takes confidence to rock the RedBull look from head to toe," I added, trying to soften my teasing with a smile.

"Exactly!" Max exclaimed, his laughter subsiding into a grin. "You've got to commit to the brand, right?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, nodding. "I have to hand it to you, though. Not many people can pull off such a bold fashion statement."

"Well, thank you," Max said, his tone light and playful. "I guess you could say I'm all about making a statement."

"I can see that," I replied, unable to resist teasing him a bit more. "I suppose next time we meet, I should wear something equally attention-grabbing to match your style."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "Please do. It'll make for an even more interesting encounter."

Everytime he spoke, he made direct eye contact with me. It was so sexy and seductive, and I don't even think that Max knew what he was doing was hella attractive.

I, not immune to anything today I guess, fell hard for a stranger that I had just met.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

yourusername posted on her story

📍washington dc 🎵 see you again (ft. kali uchis) - tyler the creator

view replies

florence.jwilliams: girl we got separated and first thing you do is be big backed??? be so fr... where are u

yourusername: on a date! 😁

florence.jwilliams: oh!-

florence.jwilliams: don't be selfish and bring me back a iced coffee w almond milk and a croissant pls.

yourusername: croissant 👌🏾, beverage 👎🏾, i've had enuf of beverages and spilling today. 😭

florence.jwilliams: oop, tea

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: a little short but sweet! ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 part two will be out sometime within the next two weeks, comment if you want to be added to the taglist! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[iamthetruenhaz]

Russia's prep work

I originally wrote this as a reply to a reddit comment about the prep work Putin's Russia has done to reconquer Eastern Europe (and Central Asia) and soften up the West in order to "reclaim" the "lost" global power status the USSR had.

Putin* has been prepping his "reconquering" of Eastern Europe and Central Asia since he stepped into office. He took on an openly anti-western course since the Munich speech in 2007. He probably saw American global dominance weakening following Afghanistan and Iraq and because Russia had stabilised after the 90s, he thought it was time to act.

First he paved the way with the Chechen war where he "won" and got to jump on the War on terror bandwagon and use Islamic terrorism as a boogeyman for his own imperialistic purpose to rile up Russians against external threats.

Then he invaded Georgia to probe the soil and see how the west would react. They mostly ignored him so he went on to meddle in Eastern European politics, coerce Ukraine for gas and fund right-wing parties all across Europe (at the time mostly to drive a wedge between Eastern and Western Europe and suck EE countries back into Russian orbit) while pumping anti-western sentiment and Soviet nostalgia at home.

He saw that the west was disunited because of the US-UK-EU split following the wars in Iraq, Libya and Syria. He capitalized on that in several ways using both the wars and the refugee crisis that followed. One, to increase racist and nationalist propaganda and stir up hatred against "the liberal gay western cabal" and the resulting Euroscepticism. Two, to prop up the "proper" traditionalist Russia as an alternative. Three, to paint Eastern European countries as a puppet of the US liberals who were "ackschually" nazis in disguise, which was easy when the West was divided between trying to coax them into the EU and leaving them as a buffer-zone backwater. The brightest example of the latter was in late 2021 when Lukashenko started dumping Middle Eastern migrants on the Polish border so the Poles could be painted as a racist, white supremacist state. Unlike, you know, Belarus (really Russia) which weaponized the migrants.

Then he failed in Ukraine when his puppet's sharp turn away from a planned EU accession path caused the Euromaidan revolts. Pro-Russian protesters soon spawned, staging provications (my own country had a wave of protests and pro-russian counter-protests back then and I remember neonazis and other paid protesters being at the forefronts). Russian media started hurling accusations of nazism against pro-western protesters.

All of a sudden, it's like a switch was flipped in Russian society. Decommunization was out the window. In 2015, Stalin was chosen as the most influential figure in *world* history by Russians. All the anti-Western, Russian irredentist, traditionalist, racist and homophobic sentiments coalesced into one, directed against the "evil nazi gay jewish West". Putin started openly provoking the West with displays of military force, close flybys in territorial waters, playing Cuban missile crisis in Kaliningrad. All to rack up the atmosphere of an imminent Cold War II and maybe even WWIII where a "wronged", "humiliated" Russia would finally make the West pay. The WWII victory celebrations also took on the appearance of a war cult, with jingoistic slogans like "we can do it again", "to Berlin" and "we're coming for the German women" displayed on every 9th May parade. Eastern European countries, especially the Baltics and Poland, noticed and tried to raise alarm, but were mostly told to keep their paranoia down and ignored.

In the last decade, he used his military and propaganda machine (what we call "hybrid warfare") to create the impression of the following: (1) The West is imperialist (and is being hypocritical about it), waging pointless bloody wars in the Middle East; (2) The West is weak in those wars, causing Russia to step in like in Syria and deal with the issue "properly"; (3) Western democracies are weak in dealing with "barbaric" refugees because they're too greedy not to let them in but too soft to throw the bad apples out (this was used to boost nationalism and Euroscepticism).

By those means, Russian propaganda managed to manipulate both anti-imperialist and nationalist groups within the West as well as in Russia and Eastern Europe and pave the way for its "just war" of "reconquering" Eastern Europe. In the West, the image of Eastern Europe was molded as either "poor backwards savages we're better off without" (for nationalists), "paranoid silly yokels crying wolf about Russia who is now playing nice" (for moderates), "ingrates not worth defending so we'll pull out" (for Trump-like US conservatives) or "backwards homophobic barbarians we don't want here because they'll ruin our utopia" (for progressivists). In Russia, they were portrayed as "lost property", accused them of being "taken over by nazis" anytime they tried to acknowledge any of the repressions suffered from USSR, and "unconscious puppets of the West" and routinely threatened with "annexation in 3 days" whenever they "misbehaved" by taking a stance against Russia's politics, whether past or current. Finally, in Eastern European countries themselves, Russia tried to ruin the image of the liberal West by portraying them as "the real fascists", "liberalism gone so far it circled back to fascism" and to prop up its own image as the "savior from debauchery upholding the good ols ways".

Also worth noting that Putin was all too eager to intervene in any country that tried to reject Russian dominance or even its own pro-Russian dictatorship. He was ready to support Belarus in 2020 and intervened in Kazakhstan in 2022 just a month before the invasion of Ukraine.

So yeah, it was quite the prep work. All to ensure that when he went on his imperialistic crusade in EE, people at home and in the West and even in Eastern Europe itself would applaud him, failing that be indifferent, failing THAT remain unheard.

* by "Putin" I don't necessarily mean just him, but the lobby behind him as well.

[jeannereames]

Do you think that Alexander was truly liked by those around him, in a personal level? True friendship. Not really Hephaistion but also like Ptolemy, Seleucus, Roxanne, Arrhidaios, those who grew up with him or were his closest circle. Or was it all cynical politics?

Found it! That was weird. Appearing/disappearing asks?

Did the people around Alexander like him?

Did the people around Alexander like him? Hephaistion did. But the rest?

The asker refers to his personal circle, but I want to address this more broadly. I’ll return to his personal circle at the end.

First, we must beware of that pesky “shading” by later authors as part of their attempts to use Alexander’s career for commentary on their own time. They meant to show how success and power spoilt him and made him into a tyrant. That said, I believe he was well-liked overall. Yet things did change over time.

He began as king of a (relatively) small kingdom in northern Greece where all a Macedonian had to do before addressing him was to take off his hat—didn’t even use the title “King.” By his death, he’d taken over in a tradition that depicted rulers as “King of Kings” and “King of the Four Quarters” [e.g., the Whole World], even a god-king (Egypt). Going from (little) Macedonia to (enormous) Asia naturally cut down on his availability to soldiers and even his own Companions/Hetairoi—which pissed them off. Partly, it was simple logistics. He had too many responsibilities, and too many people wanted a piece of his time. Yet after Darius’s death in 330, he also added layers of court ceremonial to better align with ancient near eastern royal expectations and secure Persian respect.

That alienated his own people (maybe more than he expected). However exaggerated I believe the objections to his adoption of Persian custom, there’s little doubt it wasn’t well-received by traditionalists who preferred their kings approachable. Now, be aware: that approachability was more curated than our sources admit, as these sources inflated shifts to serve their own themes. Macedonian kings had bodyguards for a reason, and certain aspects of divine charisma were associated with their physical person (see below). The average citizen could NOT just wander up to one for a chat. Even so, elaborate Persian ceremonial was quite alien to Macedonia.

Nor was such ceremonial required of Macedonians in 330; our sources note that Alexander was essentially running two parallel courts with differing expectations. Nonetheless, the Macedonians took exception to the changes, offended to see “their” king “succumb” to foreign ways. He was getting uppity. They may also have feared it would trickle down to them eventually, even if it hadn’t yet.

Kleitos the Black’s exact words to Alexander in their infamous, alcohol-fueled spat is 99% invented. (Except maybe the line from Euripides; I’m least suspicious of that.) Some of it involved a play mocking officers who’d died recently at the Marakanda massacre as a means to absolve Alexander, who hadn’t been present, but whose failure to clarify the chain of command got them killed. I suspect that was a lot of it. But as with all “straw that broke the camel’s back” fights, it quickly escalated into a litany of complaints. Some of those were about the changes at the court. And Kleitos didn’t survive the encounter.

Alexander’s remorse appears to have been genuine. And the fact the army was ready to convict Kleitos of treason after-the-fact, said a lot about their empathy for the king. Nonetheless, after that, NOTHING was the same for his inner circle. In the right circumstance, he might kill you. And the army would absolve him of it.

Yet the army didn’t regard every negative act by Alexander as forgivable. They were not willing to overlook the murder of Parmenion. If they could understand/see themselves getting worked up enough to kill even a good friend when drunk, the cold, calculated removal of a potential (not even demonstrated) political threat was something else again. Especially a threat who’d served Alexander (and Philip) with such distinction.

E.g., nuance is required when assessing soldierly opinion.

A couple more things suggest Alexander was—overall—beloved:

1. At the battle of Granikos, he was elected the ancient equivalent of MVP; an award made by soldiers. He accepted, then never allowed his own name to be in the running again. Yet it was an award from the soldiers, and means he was respected not just as a leader, but as a fighter.

2. During both so-called “mutinies,” the soldiers didn’t want to kill him, they only wanted him to change his policies. If there’s some doubt the first actually occurred, the second at Opis certainly did. Yet when he showed the soldiers what it would mean to reject him (he replaced them), they came crying for his forgiveness. They didn’t say, ���Good riddance” and head home.

3. On his deathbed, the Macedonian soldiers clamored so to see him that his top officers had to knock down a palace wall in order for them to parade through and say a final goodbye.

Now, that’s soldiers. What about his Companions/Hetairoi? At this high level, liking or disliking also involved personal advancement and family position—as the asker alluded to.

Those willing to “play ball” (so to speak)—go along with Alexander’s changes—had a whole new world opened. This wasn’t just his personal circle but included figures such as Krateros who understood what side his bread was buttered on. I’m not sure how much love was lost between him and Alexander, but they certainly respected each other. There were others who fell into this category, such as Koinos and Kleitos the White. Non-Macedonians/Greeks too, who may have seen him as a road to higher office than they’d held under Darius, or perhaps just to survival. Although I do think Poros and Alexander had a Moment; Poros remained loyal even after it served him to do so, despite his own son’s death at the Battle of Hydaspes. Something actually clicked with those two, I believe.

As for those who grew up with him—Hephaistion, Perdikkas, Leonnatos, Seleukos, Lysimakos … it seems they did like him, even if they didn’t always like each other. Seleukos was responsible for Perdikkas’s murder, in the Successor Wars later. There were others, but those names float to the top again and again. Similarly, although older, Harpalos, Ptolemy, Erigyios, and Laomedon all got themselves exiled for his sake. And Alexander never forgot it. The man who brought news to Alexander of Harpalos’s first flight (due to embezzling) was initially arrested for a false report. Alexander simply didn’t believe his friend had betrayed him.

 And it wasn’t just those men. The tale of Alexander drinking a medical potion given him by his doctor Philip—despite a missive from Parmenion warning him about Philip—became famous as a tale of trust. And sure enough, the drought cured the king, so ATG’s trust was well-placed. A later story about Alexander locking up Lysimachos in a cage with a lion in punishment is almost certainly bogus (with overtones of Roman-era stuff). Other evidence suggests great affection for his men. That’s perhaps why Philotas’s failure to inform him about a conspiracy endangering his life came as such a blow.

One may wonder if some of those guys, like the talented—and older—Krateros, didn’t want to replace him as king? Certainly after his death, they did vie to be kings.* Periodically, I run across some misguided person arguing that Philotas and/or Parmenion wanted to take his place, hence the conspiracy. It’s even embedded in our ancient sources, which didn’t understand Macedonian kingship (were thinking on Roman models).

But those men couldn’t be kings. They weren’t Argeads, and it mattered. (Such supposition also assumes they were part of the real conspiracy, rather than Philotas simply being an arrogant dumbfuck who failed to report it.)

The Argeads had Royal Charisma. Charis is a gift from the gods: literally. It can be beauty and grace, sure, but at its base, it simply means “favor.” The difference between a king and a tyrant was that the former had charis by descent. The men who became tyrants (or tried and failed) all believed they had it too, but by their own demonstrated aretē and timē. That’s why they were never just popular Joe Blow off the street. They were Olympic victors, winning generals, etc.  All were also aristocrats and fully intended to establish their own royal dynasties…but failed.

Until the Hellenistic Age. The Successors were just tyrants who made it work. Some (like Seleukos) even created mythological origins for themselves. Daniel Ogden has a good book on the creation of this myth: The Legend of Seleucus: Kingship, Narrative and Mythmaking in the Ancient World. If you’re curious about how all those things go into charis, I recommend it.

It’s not enough to be competent. One also needed the gods’ blessing. Charisma. That’s why Alexander’s officers might compete with and snipe at each other…but not with/at him.*

As for figures such as Roxane or Oxyathres (Darius’s brother who joined ATG’s court after Darius’s murder), it’s impossible to know what their opinion of him would have been. We have zero reliable evidence. It would seem Sisygambis (Darius’s mother) genuinely liked him. But again, this may have served later narratives, so I wouldn’t swear to it. She might have just made the best of a bad situation.

So! The final vote is that he seems to have been more popular/well-received than not … for a rather ruthless ancient world conqueror. Ha. I think that’s part of his eternal fascination. He’d be far less interesting if he’d simply been a monster.

Also, I forgot, but I did a separate post a while back on a related topic: Did Alexander's Companions Like Each Other

————————

* It took some years before the Successors started using the title “King” (Basileus). Antigonos Monophthalmos was the first, if I remember right, around the same time Alexander IV was murdered by Kassandros—and he didn’t claim the title himself. It was given him by Athens. Up to that point, they’d all simply called themselves “governors” and/or “regents.” Even if they might have been privately considering how to become kings in their own right, the charisma of Macedonian kingship belonged to the Argeads. Getting rid of Alexander IV (quietly), then Olympias’s murder of Philip III Arrhidaios and Hadea Eurydike left no Argeads. Then Alexander’s empire could become “spear won” territory.

[jotadoul]

i mentioned freid a little in this post. frêj, or فُرَيْج, furaij, means "liberation/relief from suffering."

mahad's name is arabic and means "one who is great." i'm totally pro-duke freid, even when he's being a stone cold bastard. he's dripped out and hot as hell and is an excellent complex character. the whole freid arc is impeccable, a stunning midway point to reset and explode your expectations.

so, freid is visually inspired by india during the mughal empire (a misnomer as mughal means mongol, and while the dynasty was persianised turkic, they weren't solely mongol) a multicultural empire in which the emperors were muslim. one such emperor was shah jahan, who commissioned the taj mahal as his wife's tomb. the taj mahal is a good example of what makes the era distinct, which is all of the islamic and central asian influence in the overall art and architecture while also clearly south asian. the building roofs in freid though do seem inspired by thai architecture, with the tall peaks and chofa. so they may be pulling from the yuan dynasty also.

amazing cinematography. this whole scene is very economical labour-wise, but the shots don't feel that way at all. they made enough clever, striking decisions in the imagery that it feels as natural, believable as any other.

my man genghis' trident and shiva's trishul

has anyone heard of aenon? it was a place of baptism. aenon is a hellenised (ancient greek) version of the semitic term for "spring" or "natural fountain", ayn, which is also a prefix used to denote places where water can be found.

the duke's mech is named chafaris, or spelled chafariz, a portuguese word meaning fountain, which comes from the arabic ṣihrīj, meaning water tank or cistern. the first ever arabic dictionary, "Kitāb al-ʿAyn " or "The Source" is using a specific definition of ayn— "a water source in the desert" ⛲

i've said it before and i'll say it again, escaflowne is a merging of eastern and western concepts and ideas following the silk road and the history of various occupations in the region; it is not as simple as "well it's europe with some japanese flair," at all. it's inspired by nepal and tibet, and because it's inspired by nepal and tibet, that includes the rich history of the place. mecha series are almost innately political. if you want to focus on portuguese, here: spanish, portuguese, and italian all took major contributions of art, architecture, and vocabulary from arabic, and all these europeans had an invasive presence in MENA and asia. the muslims of iberia were in portugal until the 1200s. muslim spain lasted from the 700s to 1492, the toledo school was established to translate from arabic into latin. mughal/timurid empire was from the 1500s to the 1800s. portuguese india was from the 1500s to the 1960s. basra (... basram?), a port city of iran, was under portuguese control from the 1500s to 1600s. hm... maybe we can kinda ballpark some things from this :^)

[bilehwit]

Just read your Bilehwit Au on Ao3 and was greetes by the amazing ref for the lamb here on tumblr!

And yes i absolutely love it when people explain clothing choices in character design especially since you wrote Lamb culture is based on the Old English pls do ramble 🙏

Well hello!! This my first ask from someone I've never met before, so I'll ask you to please be patient with my wild trails of thought.

This will be a long one, but I'll focus on two main outfits - the daily wear and the ritual outfit, as they have the most symbolism.

The easiest one is obviously the leaf outfit - cute, I love it so much!

The leaf was chosen for its symbolism in English mythology. The tree itself is well beloved as a symbol of strength and a symbol of fertility - acorns are often depicted as lucky, and an oak full of acorns is a good sign of fertility!

I also chose oak because I think they're very beautiful trees - they can live for up to 1,000 years, and they can grow to 30 meters wide in their leaves. That's amazing to me. They also smell nice, and I remember climbing them when I was little, so it's nice to share the oak with my lambsona.

Next, let's talk about the sacrifice outfit - it's oddly bridal, no?

Well it's intended to be!

The use of white/silver to denote Purity is an old concept, but white wedding dresses in England were only truly popularised after Queen Victoria wore the colour to her wedding - previously a mourning shade.

I chose silver satin as the fabric, and a simple design, as I wanted a bridal look but also something that felt sleek and pure. Bilehwit is a virgin (virgin sacrifice in all ways) and it's a cruel trick to play.

Also, Shamura in my fic struggles to see/differentiate between objects, so having an all white lamb made it easier for them to stay focused.

So while this outfit feels bridal to us, the symbolism in fic is more that it was easier than dying fabric, just raw spider thread spun into a dress.

Shamura did make the veil themself, though, for reasons you will see later ;3

Now, we get to the heavy hitters! First up, the daily outfit.

Now, Anglo-Saxons were all about those layers! So this outfit actually has more layers than you'd even think.

Under the base dress is a thin cotton chemise, or under dress, made to soak up the oils of the skin and sweat, changed most often. Bilehwit would use these as pyjamas in the summer months, too, to keep cool while covered and decent.

The next layer is the linen, with the thin dark band. This would be a slightly tighter layer to the body, and would be long sleeved to offer protection from the sun and the cold. Linen would be the lighter colours, as they'd be protected more, and linen was used as a middling layer to hold heat in winter. Air would be trapped between layers and keep people warm, and also it protected them from any scratchy wool. The woven ribbon at the bottom is decorative.

The next layer is my favourite. This is the red layer, the thicker dress, made often from wool or from linen again. This is made from wool, using a technique called naalbinding, which is what the Anglo-Saxons would have used, as they didn't knit like is common today.

Anglo-Saxon embroidery and weaving was actually really well known in Europe for its fine work and was gifted to Emissaries and Kings. The weaving and sewing business in England went hard as hell, and it's where most people would be employed for personal use or as gifts.

The embroidery of flowers on the cuffs of the red dress, as well as the colar, are those of Achillea millefolium, or 'Red Velvet', flowers. These tiny buds are native to Europe, western Asia and North America, and are small blooms that self seed and explode into colour. I chose them after seeing the flowers on a sketch, and decided that I had to include them.

Red in flower language is always to do with romance and passion. I wanted Bilehwit to show that desire, as they are a hopeless romantic at heart, and they also just feel a deep-seated loneliness that they want filled. The red flowers are the only flowers they've ever been given, and they've spent hours tracing the embroidery threads and staring silently at the sky.

The final apron layer is just that - an apron. It's a thin, boxy piece of fabric that is played on top to ensure the front of the dress stays somewhat clean, and there is a secret pocket behind it that they store honey-sweets in for children (and themself). Just a length of plain cut cloth!

Tied together with a woven belt, this outfit is my second favourite - I love every detail, and when I can talk in fic about it, I will spend thousands of words trying to detail what it means to me, and probably failing.

The final outfit now, one that definitely won't be seen in fic for a good long while - the Fancy/Ritual set.

Look at ittttt ahahahahagahqabqgagagquipqguqugjv

Okay, keysmash over, serious time!

Now, this outfit is interesting, because not only does it have embroidery and styles of old English culture, it also has mixes of Indian influence too!

"Well, that's random to add," I hear you murmur, and you're right. Why would I add that?

Well, because originally I was going to make Narinder have a more Egyptian vibe! I thought; ah, perfect, he'd do great as a Sphynx cat, the Egyptians loved those cats.

See, as it turns out, Narinder is actually a Sanskrit/Hindu name. It's a form of the name Narendra, a masculine name that means "Lord of Men". It's a very formal name, and one I immediately knew I had to switch things around for.

Following this, I was also able to determine the domains and cultures of each other Bishop, by tracing back names and meanings! That's a whole other post I fear.

Back to the dress!

The outline is far more recent than Old English, medieval style dresses, and that's because, uh... I wanted it. (This one is not very historically accurate. Forgive me.)

I wanted a mix of English style embroidery and Indian embroidery styles. Will come back and edit in which style I went with specifically, but I wanted the ritual set to be a touch more dedicated to Narinder, with darker colours, and more Indian fusion embroidery.

The black is velvet, the red is silk, and the white is linen - why? Again, it looks cool.

I can't lie, I have very little explanation for this besides the fact it looks bangin'.

But yes!! That's all my explanations at this current point in time for outfits! However, if you have any further questions, please ask away, and I will happily detail everything and anything about my AU and fic! Thank you for joining me on my rambling!

[necarion]

One of the Allies' greatest strategic mistakes of WWII was not sending far more resources to fight Japan in Asia. Sure, the Americans defeated the Japanese anyway. The severe conditions on the ground in China led to millions of military and millions of army deaths during the war itself.

But, the war also led to the near-destruction of the Nationalist forces, while Mao's Communists managed to (a) bide their time without suffering as-severe casualties, to be reserved for the coming civil war, (b) gather military equipment designated for the fight against Japan, and (c) put out major propaganda about how they were actually succeeding where the Nationalists were not (complete lies).

Most likely as a result, the Communists won the Chinese Civil War. And that had absolutely catastrophic consequences for the next 50 years of history (Korean and Vietnam wars, Great Leap Forward, Cultural Revolution, Cambodian Genocide, existence of the DPRK) and continues to massively shape world history today, as one of the major supporters of authoritarian states today.

And, sure. A mainland Republic of China would not have been an automatic ally of the United States. And it wouldn't have been a great democratic force-for-good (just like Korea and Taiwan weren't until the 1980s). But without the major military threat of Communist China, I suspect things would have liberalized earlier in those countries. And more, a China taking part in the Asian Miracle would have had amazing results for worldwide poverty.

And yes, maybe we would have even contributed military forces during additional Communist coup attempts in China itself (although with major US bases there already, things might have gone differently). But there wouldn't have been the massive spread of Maoism that immiserated SE Asia without Mao. And for certain the DPRK wouldn't have received Chinese support during the Korean Civil War.

It's quite likely that the Allied decision to not support the Chinese more in World War II strongly contributed to the deaths of 60 million people during the cold war ("extraordinary" events) and who knows how many additional poverty deaths.

[cocobeanncteez]

Song Series One-shot: Choi Jongho - All I Have by EMO and Oskar Cyms

Genre: angst, idol au, established relationship

Pairing: ateez Jongho x idol!reader (f)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: none

Disclaimer: Please note that my Song Series One-shots are purely based on how I personally interpret the lyrics of the songs I chose for this series. It is not based on the music video (if it has one).

Walking along the beach at dusk, you could feel the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders. The waves crashed gently, leaving footprints that were quickly washed away, much like the memories you shared with Jongho.

He was walking beside you, his hands buried deep in his pockets, eyes fixed on the horizon, half his face covered by a black mask. The silence between you two was heavy, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

"Jongho," you began, your voice trembling. "Do you ever think about what we had?"

He stopped and turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he replied. "Every day, Y/N. But it feels like we’ve drifted too far apart."

Being an idol wasn't easy by any means. It also didn't help that your company was based in the absolute opposite side of the city, far away from Jongho's.

You had been dating for two years now, and Ateez was finally, gradually receiving the recognition they deserved, which means that Jongho's schedule was busier than usual.

This was a very rare occasion where both you and Jongho had some time off; he just finished recording for the next album, and your group got back from your Asia tour only yesterday. Usually, you wouldn't see Jongho this early due to your exhaustion, but you pushed that aside to see him, even if it was only for an hour or two.

The weather was chilly, so the two of you decided to meet up at a beach in the evening, knowing there wouldn't be many people at the beach on a cold day, especially since it was further away from the city.

You felt a pang in your heart, the realization hitting you hard that maybe your relationship with Jongho was coming to an end. "I need you, Jongho. I need you now more than ever," you murmured, looking down at your shoes so that he couldn't see your teary eyes.

You had poured your heart and soul into this relationship. Spending time with each other was sadly neither in your control nor in his. But every free moment you got, you never hesitated to tell Jongho about it, to check that maybe, just maybe he would be free for a little while too.

Jongho was different, though. As much as he wanted to see you when he was free, he was too exhausted to do so. It didn't help that you both were far away from each other. He only ever told you that he's free when he had a full day off.

Jongho sighed, the sound filled with regret and longing. "I know. It’s been so hard, feeling like nothing is the same anymore, and our busy lives. But something's holding us back, and I don't know how to fix it."

It just wasn't working out anymore.

You reached out and touched his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin despite the chilly weather. "I gave you all I had. I want to be with you through all of this. I want to support you, support us."

Jongho shook his head slowly. "Is there a way to make it right? Was there ever a chance for us to truly make it through, Jongho?" You questioned, gulping.

"Right now... all I see are fleeting moments, Y/N, that are slipping away too quickly."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his words. "I thought we could find a way, Jongho. I thought love was enough," you said, the tears now falling down, absorbing into your own face mask.

He took a deep breath, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Can we really find our way out of this, Y/N? Because I feel lost, like I’m wandering further away from what we had, chasing promises that never really happen."

Jongho blinked, the tears escaping his eyes. He didn't want to give up on you, but he didn't want to hold you back. He blamed himself a lot for not being able to see you more often, for not telling you he had a little free time in the middle of the day, for not be able to hold you, to kiss you, to tell you you're doing well in such a harsh industry, to comfort you when pratice gets overwhelming, to be someone you can lean on when life gets tough.

He used to be able to do that before, but now he couldn't give you that anymore despite how badly he wanted to.

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him, feeling his heartbeat against your chest. "We'll find our way out together. I promise. I gave you all I have, and I'll keep giving. Just don’t walk away, please..."

Jongho held you tightly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to believe that. I really do. But I just don’t know if we can break free."

Truthfully, you knew you had to let go. For him. For yourself. Love isn't enough to keep this going.

But you loved him. You were so in love with him as you've been for two years now. You didn't want to give up.

Before you could say anything, he continued, "I can't give up on you, Y/N. I know I should, and I know that's what's best for you cause I can't be there for you the way I was before, and I'm just not good enough for—"

"Shh," you interrupted him, taking his hands in yours. The sound of the waves against the damp sand seemed louder now. "You being here with me is enough, Jongho. Fighting for me, for us, is enough."

Something had to change to make this relationship work, but the two of you weren't sure what to do.

As the night grew darker, you stood there, holding each other, hoping that somehow, you could find a way back to the love you once knew.

The waves continued to crash, erasing the footprints behind you, but you held onto the hope that new ones could be made.

[anonymous-bastard]

I mean both systems exist so we're both right ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A lot of people also just go by the first of the month I think, so winter would've started two weeks ago.

It is so bleeding cold

It’s not even midwinter yet

[hobisstar]

What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader V Last Part

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.

Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN.

Taglist: vante 🫶🏾

A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol. This has been absolutely fun to write for you guys! Im so happy how much love it had gotten over the past month since ive been writing it! I love you all so so much! Enjoy!

Its been about two years since Jungkook decided to let yn go on her own! So far, yn has become the owner of the coffee shop, has opened up plenty of them across Asia and plans to open some in The Untied States.

Life has been looking absolutely beautiful for yn! But heres the thing.

Bodies have been discovered. Fresh bodies. Of course going through what she went through with Jungkook, she feared that this was his doing. That the so called hobby has now reached the news channels. Though it says that the crimes has been in only England, it was still capability of it being Jungkook.

“Yn! Are you even listening? Im telling you Namjoon wants to take you on a date!” Joy, yns now close friend that she has gained from opening the coffee shops.

“Sorry, but i dont think im ready to date. The last guy was for 5 years and it didn’t turn out well in the end.” Yn mumbled looking over at the tv that was on the crime scene of the killings.

But what was showed, made yns blood run cold.

What was at the crime scene was dandelions.

The flowers that Jungkook always used to gift her on days he felt like we did something wrong. He would cut the steam off and just leave the flowers to never be able to grow again.

Was he…back?

It was closing time and of course yn being the owner, she decided that it was her duty to close every single night.

But tonight, she couldnt shake the feeling that she was being watched.

As everyone was leaving she saw a guy with a big hoodie on taking his time to clean up his mess on the table. Putting his crumbs inside a napkin then taking the napkin and closing it tightly then throwing it out.

yn watched from behind the counter taking containers from the counter and putting them on the shelf behind her.

This mysterious guy has been coming in everyday. Same time. She never serves him but she knows Joy does and she hates serving him. ‘His glare, it can kill.’ She would say when describing the eyes of this mysterious man.

While cleaning she saw the guy get up and come up to the counter.

Face mask on and glasses… sun glasses.

Its night time.

Maybe it was a fashion statement. Thats what yn left it as. “ Hi sorry we are about to close soon so im gonna have to ask you to leave..” is what she was aiming to say but once she turned around she saw he just left a napkin with hand writing on it.

She grabbed it and began to read it:

“Hi baby! Oh its been such a long time, oh how i miss you. Our child also misses you. 2 years right? That is let you go? Ah, I remember something. Today is our anniversary! Our now 7 year anniversary. Im picking you up at 11! Be ready!

JJK,”

Yn was at this point shaking. Fear took over her body but was trying to hide it. She wasnt doing such a good job at that. As much as she wanted to call the cops, get him arrested, she knew that those cops had no chance in trying to get Jungkook.

Hed kill them all in the blink of an if he even knew that they talked to yn.

When yn got home she didnt let the fact go that when she got there she obviously saw Jungkooks car right outside her town house.

Mind you this is the 5th time this year she has moved. None of the reasons dealing with Kook but they definitely where personal reasons.

She braced herself, once she goes inside her home, Jungkook will be inside.

She could call the cops and run away from home then go to Jins house.

Actually now that Yn thought about it, what if Jin had something to do with it? He was always to calm for her liking honestly. Why was he always just so calm with him? I mean he explained it yes, hes seen it for so many years but why didnt he at least call the cops? Then again was the cops really gonna help him?

Entering the home, it felt like deja vu. Coming home on anniversary and Jungkook was cooking their favorite shared dish.

Spaghetti! Yn liked it because it was delicious and Jungkook probably like it because it reminded him of blood.

“My love! You are right on time! The Spaghetti is hot and ready to be platted. Get comfortable and come eat”

He didn’t need to turn around for yn to know that it was actually him. He colored his tattoos, became more swoll and also cut his long hair.

Yn didnt change anything or didnt get comfortable since this was all just too much for her.

‘Keep calm and go with his plan, yn.’ Thats all she kept telling herself.

Though what was his plan? Drug her? Kill her?

Well, none of those. He wanted her back. If that meant living in this house with her, then so be it. Jin had Bam so, they’d have plenty of time together.

Finally he sat down with two plates of spaghetti and there he was in all his glory.

He had the cockiest smirk while toying with his now new lip ring before sitting down across from yn.

“ Fucking finally, i have you again.”

[scleroticstatue]

Could I get some fruit knowledge (I don’t mind which kind)

This is a barberry bush

It's called that because it's got these wicked thorns

They can easily get an inch and a half long. Because of that, they're sold in garden centers as "security plants" to put under your windows and stop people getting in, as well as fall color. But! They also have

Oodles of berries!

Nowadays, most people leave them for the birds because those wicked thorns are hard to pick around if you like your blood to stay inside your body, but historically, they were an important source of fresh fruit throughout winter, especially in cold climates. They're still used in Persian cuisine, where they're dried (you can find them as zeresh if you're looking for a bag to taste). They taste like if a cranberry and a lemon had a baby.

The reason we no longer use them anymore is because rich people preferred exotic food that showed off their wealth and the poorer people were desperate to emulate them instead of preserving traditional food. It happened to a lot of European spices that have long since been forgotten, and you can track similar behaviors in food throughout Southeast Asia during colonization and Africa currently! But if you are trying some medieval cooking and it calls for orange or lemon, try using barberry instead and see the flavor transform!

(you can also find calafate, or Patagonian barberry items for sale, but they're a different species and are reported to taste like a cross between a huckleberry and a blackberry)

[dearweirdme]

I feel like Sisyphus but in this case replace the rock with Taenope discourse😅 It is such an obvious media play with both parties "benefitting" to a degree. J gets a boost to her profile just before her western acting debut and Tae gets his beard before military service (amount other freedoms).

The pap doesnt know who Tae is and had to work from a tip off? The kpop idol who shut down Paris months before for the Celine Show? That story was everywhere and its his job to know these people. I understand he was mainly a sports pap but then why bother taking this picture anyway!

French paps are notoriously aggressive yet this guy stood a respectful distance and didn't get in anyone's face?

He didn't sell the photos! It's his job, how he earns a living! We're to believe he made zero money off it, just IG engagement??

After Diana's death France introduced strong privacy laws with respect to paparazzi photos but this guy instead of selling the rights to the photos and letting the media publication take the rap for any possible litigation? Hmmm must have been very sure that these two idols who he knows nothing about were not going to sue.

The timeline does not add up either (I think these photos were taken in Nov 22) they are bundled up like it's cold when Paris at the end of May is balmy. Tae with his condition in all those layers? J wearing the exact.same.outfit she was snapped wearing in Paris in November 22 while shopping with her team? J not being able to be in Paris anyway because she was in Asia on her group tour.

He releases his exclusive photos days later when he knew others were taking photos too but they all had a hive mentality (pun intended) and released all pictures and videos on the same evening.

All these inaccuracies because it was never meant to be scrutinised to the nth degree. Its a classic papwalk at the most basic level to raise a profile and provide het dating cover. It has done its job effectively as people are still rehashing it. Time to pack it up though, lets all move on.

Hi @charjube!

Oh, absolutely same!! The many times I have thought I could retire my taennope tag only for it to become active again 🙈.

This is classic pr. Classic pap getting called to take pic/video. We might not be able to piece all of it together (how could we possibly), but there's honestly also not that much mystery surrounding it. This sort of thing happens all the time.. people are just not used to it being a BTS member.

But yes.. definitely tired of it 😂.

[anexperimentallife]

Dude, not only have I been sick with this respiratory infection since Oct 9 (2023), but since I moved to the Philippines (in large part to make my disability payments stretch further), I've had covid three times, pneumonia three times, my right retina partially detached from a clot (might need surgery), a cataract starting in my other eye, one side of my face temporarily paralyzed by blood clots (one eye still droops sometimes), had a two year foot infection that took surgery and an infectious disease specialist to clear up (and I need another surgery there), and I don't even know how many other miscellaneous respiratory infections. Oh, yeah, and covid apparently also damaged my heart.

That's on top of the literal hole in my throat that's growing (and in which meds frequently get stuck), my upper spine injury and related nerve damage, my traumatic brain injury, various lingering issues from the 80s when I was a Cold War soldier, my lower spine injury, osteo- AND rheumatoid arthritis, autism, adhd, bipolar disorder, and probably some things I'm forgetting because brain fog and the aforementioned other brain wonkiness.

When I came here after the deaths of my adult sons and a bad break-up that resulted in my ex trashing all my most precious mementos--including pictures of my dead sons--I admit I was kinda just waiting to die.

But then @thesurestthing slid into my dms, told me she was going to be my gf, and persisted until I caved (best argument I ever lost, btw), so now I have a wonderful wife, and a daughter I desperately need to stay alive for. I need to be there for my daughter while she grows up. (She'll be three in March, and I've been sick for nearly half of her life so far.)

This all means that despite not wanting to, we NEED to move back to the US ASAP, so I can use my Medicare and VA benefits, because even with the low cost of medical care here in SE Asia, we can't afford all the care I need. (Yeah, we set May as a target, but the sooner the better.)

I'm not afraid of death, but I am TERRIFIED of leaving my little girl without her daddy.

So yeah, if you'd like to help us get back to the US so I can like, stay alive to see my daughter grow up, please see this post. Thank you.

[witchesoz]

The Wicked Witches of the West (8)

If you wish to find versions of the Wicked Witch inspired by the novel rather than by the MGM movie, you need to either jump in time to our recent years... or jump through space to another country. One country specifically: Japan.

Japanese people LOVE The Wizard of Oz. Not as much as they like Alice in Wonderland, but it is still part of these pieces of American and European children fiction they have a certain obsession with (alongside Grimm and Andersen fairytales). In the history of Japanese animation, you had several adaptations of The Wizard of Oz. All the Japanese "fairy tale collections" anime had an Oz episode.

Here is a version of the Wicked Witch of the West appearing in a Seven Seas Entertainment illustrated version of the Wonderful Wizard of Oz:

Let's put aside the "sexy witch" business, because if we're going to start highlight EVERY time the Wicked Witch becomes a pin-up we are NEVER going to end. I mean, I will point out that Baum's text never actually talked about the Witch being a wrinkle ugly hag, it does says she's old but outside of that the novel traits (one eye, umbrella) were maintained... Anyway

What I want to highlight here is the choice of colors: a turquoise-blue skin, with the black outfit filled with purple shades and violet touches. The choice to make the Witch's skin blue seems to be a way to pay homage to the MGM witch by doing a "reverse coloring", the green becoming blue...

However, the tradition of giving the Wicked Witch a skin in cold colors is far older than this modern edition. In the 1986 animated series "Ozu no Mahoutsukai" (The Wonderful Wizard of Oz), the Witch of the West appears as a white-and-red-haired hag, with a black hooded robe and... lavender skin.

And before this animated series, there was Toho's famous animated movie "The Wizard of Oz" from 1982. Unlike in the animated series where the Witch was greatly reinvented, this older piece tried to stay a bit closer to the novel... Well, by "closer" understand a more traditional witch outfit, an eye-patch, and a curved staff meant to mimick the umbrella without being actually one... But again we have a choice of colored skin. Here the witch's skin is basically a very pale and greyish violet-blue color.

All of this shows that in Japanese media, there is a thing for making the Witch's skin blue or purple. You can also see this tradition on the book cover below.

Why? The decision to make the Witch's skin colorful is clearly derived from the MGM movie, but as to why the green switched for a purple-blue, I can only suggest the cultural shift... It is a well-known and documented phenomenon that specific color symbolism in Europe or America gets shifted in Asia. Red, a color associated with blood, violence, the devil, fire, danger in the "Western culture" becomes a symbol of joy, life, wealth, luck and happiness in China - whereas in the Western culture the color of wealth and luck is green. In Europe the traditional funeral color of death and mourning is black - in Japan it is white. Etc, etc... And it is another documented phenomenon that whereas America settled the idea that green was a color of poison, venom, toxicity and strange brews, in Japan toxic products, weird food and other poisons are typically drawn/colored purple. Is this the reason why the green of the Hamilton witch became a blue-purple in the Japanese landscape? I can't prove anything, but it is a very interesting question.

For this post we'll end with another famous adaptation of the Wicked Witch of the West, though VERY very different from the others... Gloomhilda the witch, from "The Wonderful Galaxy of Oz". And her design is... well basically a Roaring Twenties crossover of Tintin's Castafiore and Disney's Queen of Hearts. Yes, it is weird. But what can you expect from a Japanese anime about The Wizard of Oz IN SPACE?