#and if i'm not then i just can't read the book

[prokopetz]

You know a lot about the cultural influences behind various aspects of D&D, so: do you know the origins of the thing in 3.5 where it seems like a main way they want you to play as a psionic warrior is to grow massive claws and get breath weapons? It's so specific and out of left field for a "warrior who uses the power of the mind" that I've always wondered.

Much of 3E's handling of psionics closely follows material presented in the 2E supplement The Complete Psionics Handbook, which, contra later editions' habit of treating psionics as a variant of wizardly magic, presents psionics as a totally separate and mutually incompatible thing. One feature of this treatment is psionics having its own distinct set of "schools", or disciplines: clairsentience, psychokinesis, psychometabolism, psychoportation, telepathy, and metapsionics.

The 3E psionic warrior stuff is a more or less direct port of the discipline of psychometabolism; I can only presume that this is because it's the most "fightery" of the Psionics Handbook disciplines, though I can't back that guess up. Apart from your cited examples, other psychometabolic powers presented here include self-healing; energy absorption; turning into animals, objects, or living shadows; wuxia-style "lightfoot" techniques; camouflage; shrinking or expanding; stretching one's limbs Mister Fantastic style; and others.

Of course, that just kicks the can further down the road: if the 3E psionic warrior is a port of 2E's psychometabolism specialist, where the heck did 2E get the idea for the discipline of psychometabolism? The general idea of shape-shifting and fire-breathing and such being psychic powers that can be cultivated through mental discipline pops up in quite a few places, but we're looking for a specific constellation of tropes, not isolated instances of little bits and pieces of it.

The Complete Psionics Handbook helpfully includes a comprehensive bibliography of its inspirations (remember when Dungeons & Dragons used to have those?), though I'm unacquainted with most of the books it cites, so that's where my ability to help in this respect ends. I'll include a copy of that bibliography under the cut, though – maybe one of this blog's followers can point out which of its entries, if any, might be most directly informative.

Taken from page 113 ("Related Reading") of The Complete Psionics Handbook:

Fiction

Bester, Alfred; The Demolished Man, The Stars My Destination.

Bradley, Marion Zimmer; Darkover series: The Bloody Sun, Children of Hastur, Darkover Landfall, The Forbidden Tower, Hawkmistress!, The Heritage of Hastur, The Keeper's Price, The Planet Savers, Sharra's Exile, The Shattered Chain, The Spell Sword, Star of Danger, Stormqueen!, The Sword of Aldones, Thendara House, Two to Conquer, The Winds of Darkover, The World Wreckers.

Brunner, John; The Whole Man.

Del Rey, Lester; Pstalemate.

Henderson, Zenna; The People, The People: No Different, Holding Wonder.

Foster, Alan Dean; Flinx series.

King, Stephen; The Dead Zone.

Kurtz, Katherine; Deryni Rising, Deryni Checkmate, High Deryni.

May, Julian; Saga of the Pliocene Exile series: The Many-Colored Land, The Golden Torc, The Non-Born King, The Adversary.

Nourse, Alan E.; Psi High and Others.

Pohl, Frederik; Drunkard's Walk.

Russell, Eric Frank; The Mindwarpers.

Robinson. Frank M.; The Power.

Schmitz, James H.; The Universe Against Her, The Lion Game, stories.

Simmons, Dan; Carrion Comfort.

Sturgeon, Theodore; The Synthetic Man.

Tucker, Wilson; Wild Talent.

Van Vogt, A.E.; Slan.

Zelazny, Roger; Creatures of Light and Darkness, The Dream Master, Lord of Light, lsle of the Dead, This Immortal, To Die in ltalbar.

Nonfiction

Brookesmith, Peter (ed.); Strange Talents, from the series "The Unexplained: Mysteries of Mind, Space, and Time;" Orbis Publishing, London, 1983.

Index of Possibilities: Energy and Power; Pantheon Books/Random House, New York, New York, 1974.

Mind Over Matter, Powers of Healing, Psychic Powers, Psychic Voyages, from the series "Mysteries of the Unknown;" Time-Life Books, Alexandria, Virginia, 1987.

Puharich, Andrija; Beyond Telepathy; Anchor Press/Doubleday, Garden City, New York, 1973.

Rhine, J.B.; The Reach of the Mind; William Sloane Associates, New York, New York, 1947.

[neuship-zone]

Incoming ex-HP fan yap

Normally I would say that you can still interact with HP as long as it's in ways that don't financially benefit JKR

But honestly? Speaking as someone who had HP be a major part of their childhood? I just can't engage with it anymore.

I actually tried to read a HP book three years ago. And I COULD NOT. Despite me eating that shit up literally a couple years prior.

I genuinely cannot understand how people (especially trans ppl) can hear about JKR's awful views and still happily support HP. Reading it, maybe. Talking about it with friends, maybe. But still buying books? Games? Films? Let it die, lil bro.

Slightly unrelated but I wanted to reminisce: The last time I interacted with the HP fanbase at all was when my school did a HP book night (4 years ago) and I attended (for closure purposes). Turns out, it was very effective closure for me because I literally never talked about the series ever again.

I really wanted to buy The Sunbearer Trials (as well as Felix Ever After) but I'm broke and live in a queerphobic household.

Seriously. I'm starting to block y'all on sight it has been quite long enough of a campaign to get you weaned off this terf's books and shows (and now games!)

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 059 - Lover! HSR Men x Fem! Reader: Period Cramps ♡ ˎˊ˗

꒰ Dan Heng, Aventurine, Caelus, Sunday ꒱

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Dan Heng is actually a veteran in taking care of girls during their periods. Why? You have March 7th to thanks for that. His poor friend's cramps are hell so he stepped up to assist whenever he can if Himeko isn' present to soothe her.

So when it comes to you? It's no problem really, he even enjoys the fact that you're relying on him for this since it shows that you trust him entirely.

Does he track your period schedule? Definitely, he has a tracker installed in his phone that he always checks. Periods are tricky and he wants to know incase anything wrong comes your way.

A little overdevoted of him, but you're not complaining. Why would you?

He has everything prepared a week advanced before your period.

Heating pads? Check. Extra napkins? Check. Snacks? Check. Chocolates? Check. Medicine for cramps? Check. Plushies? Washed and ready.

"Is your stomach acting up? No?" Dan Heng asks as he secures the blanket over you after placing a heating pad on your belly.

"I hate being a girl..." You complain, curling up further beside him for comfort.

"I know, but just for a few more days, it'll be alright" He says, stroking your head lovingly. "How about a movie? There are a bunch of new movies I managed to download."

"Okay..."

You actually passed out halfways into the movie, which Dan heng of course predicted already since he had the lights in his room already turned off. He changed the heating pad on your stomach first before tucking himself back in.

"Goodnight," Dan heng mumbles, placing a peck on your forehead before pulling you in for a cuddle.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"There we go" Aventurine gently settles you down on the bed after placing an extra towel on it. "Is that better, love?"

You nod, cuddling the teddy bear he bought you just because you're on your monthly hell.

Your period week is strictly a no-gambling and no-business-trips time for Aventurine. Even if his bosses and the other stonehearts decide to bug him into doing stuff.

He values your happiness and comfort above all else, even work. So to hell with them if the ipc blows up out of nowhere during your menstruation. Aventurine will just throw a middle finger at them and laugh at their misery.

Aventurine was so dedicated he spent hours reading books about periods and even goes so far to research good napkin brands that wont make you itch.

He wants nothing more than the highest of qualities for his beloved who is going through a lot just because a woman's body decided to evolve suffering like this. he even has some doctors on stand by just incase anything goes wrong.

Of course, we can't forget his philanthropic side— this peacock man needs to spend his money on you even for the littlest things. You'll be having brand new jewelry, cosmetics and perfumes coming in rapid succession for you as well as a barrage of kisses to go along with it.

"My poor princess, are you sure you don't need anything else?" He asks, kissing each and every one of your fingers. "Should I order some shortcakes for you? Or should I call the doctor to check on you?"

"Vasha... I'm not bedridden..." You say.

"I know, but I would rather not risk anything happening bad, so if anything hurts too much you must tell me" Aventurine simply smiles.

"Your kisses are more than enough"

"Who am I to say no to that?"

And with that, he dives in to pepper your precious and pretty face with pecks.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ ℂ𝕒𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕤 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Okay, everything is settled" Caelus nods to himself after making a makeshift pillow fort in his bed for you to snuggle in.

The plushies he had ordered just arrived in time with your menstrual cycle. He made sure to ask March 7th about this just to be sure too. He can't screw this up—

Yeah, he's acting like he's about to go through something major or something. What an idiot.

Your lovable idiot atleast.

"Cae? I'm back" You say, walking out of the bathroom after changing your napkin. "???"

"Ah... Well" Your boyfriend sheepishly scrtaches the back of his head as you glance at the makeshift fort he managed to make during your time in the bathroom. "I figured I should make a fort so we could snuggle up more?... I don't know"

"You're cute" You laugh, kissing his cheek before crawling into the fort he made. "I like the fort, maybe you should keep it"

"I'll order more pillows and a canopy for my bed then" He grins before going in after you. "I'm not really good at taking care of you, my bad"

"It's fine, just you being with me is more than enough and I'd much rather cuddle with you" You wrap your arms affectionately around his waist. "Just be you as usual, that's more than enough."

"I should be the one comforting you" Caelus pouts, rubbing your cheeks together just so he can elicit a sweet giggle from your lips. "If there is is anything I can do, please just tell me what you need and I'll do my best"

"You're really like a puppy" You muse, kissing his cheek lovingly.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Just like Dan Heng, Sunday is a veteran at this. His mother died before his sister had her very first menstrual cycle. And although there were servants around to assist— he still took the initiative to help Robin himself because he was her brother.

The result of that? He's absolutely good at taking care of you during your period. Much like Dan Heng, he has a period tracker on his phone and prepares everything in advance the week before your period starts.

But of course, Sunday actually memorized your cycle dates, he just prefers to be more organized and to fouble(triple) check everything

It's much more important for him to be assured that eveything is ready.

"Not like that, you'll make your stomach hurt even more, dear" Sunday says, putting down the book he was reading and reaches out to rub firm but gentle circles around your tummy. "I know it's different for each woman, but this is the method I used on my sister when her cramps are bad. Is that better?"

"Yes..." You nod weakly, melting into his massages quickly. "You're really good at this"

"it's only because I took care of my baby sister a lot" Sunday replies, keeping his gentle pace to help ease your pain.

"Robin must miss you" You mumble.

"It's alright" He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "I miss her too, but one day we will reunite. But right now you're the main character. You need me since your cramps as especially bad during the first few days of your cycle."

"What did I even do to deserve you?" You whisper, slowly drifting off to sleep the further he massaged you.

Sunday wouldn't reply until you finally gave in to the call of sleep.

"I need you more than you need me" He finally says, replying to your unconcious state while pressing his lips on your forehead. "So let me do this, it's the least I can do since you never gave up on me"

꒰ 🪼 A/N: This one is a bad fic but I'm really deep in writer's block. I'll try to get it in my next one. For now please be patient with me qwq. I hope you guys understand huhu. I'll try to make more comprehensive and better fics:3 ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I've been seeing your post about the podcast on Octavia Butler going around and I've been wondering, why do you think people only seem to react that way too problematic relationships? I've heard an English major, book reviewer say that they should've made the girl of legal age if they wanted to write about her stepfather attempting to prey on her because it's "gross" and also acted like it was an oversight. Another one, thought a book that is famously about a predator and the author is a victim of predation and the book is marketed about predation, romanticized predation and abuse and described it as an attempt at writing romance and failing? I don't know, I've just never seen anyone get that way about murder. Anyway, hi sex witch! 🧙‍♀️

I think there are like. complex and innumerable reasons for this, but re: the murder comparisons I think for many people it's worryingly easy to imagine that someone might actually act on or want to act on #problematic sexual behaviors depicted in fiction. like, the amount of murder that most people are doing IRL is absolutely zero, so I think it's kind of easy for most folks to sequester that away in a little fantasy bubble where someone who enjoys reading about murder is as likely to actually be partaking in that interest as someone who enjoys reading about riding dragons or traveling through space. whereas, statistically, most people have sex at some point, or at least could be having sex, so it feels like a much more reasonable concern to assume that their fictional tastes might be directly reflected in their actual behavior.

which is tied to another huge issue here, which is that I think a lot of people just... never learn to engage in a healthy manner with things that yuck them out or make them uncomfortable? so they get in a headspace where it's impossible to imagine that anyone willingly engages with fiction that they don't personally 100% condone. which extends to critiques of authors like you're mentioning, where some readers can't seem to ken that there's an intention and artistry to showing something vile beyond that depiction either being the author's personal fetish or their attempt to be an edgelord. a booktuber who I otherwise like quite a lot once downgraded their review of Akwaeke Emezi's novel The Death of Vivek Oji because it features a queer sexual relationship between cousins and the reviewer found the inclusion of incest to be unnecessary, which seems to be rather missing the point of a novel that's entirely about a family being drowned by its own secrets.

and also idk many people, especially my fellow USAmericans who have a bad tendency of skewing very prudish whether they recognize it or not, are just very very very scared of any sex that falls outside of Gayle Rubin's charmed circle

and will kind of immediately start getting nervous when exposed to it without ever once interrogating why. I absolutely guarantee you someone is going to sent me an angry anon about at least one aspect of this circle asking why I'm trying to justify it, which is going to illustrate the point very nicely.

[pedgito]

well, january is finally over. i feel like this month has dragged, but the surplus of fics have kept me going. this one includes a few wildcards (and a lot of smut) that i'm blaming on friends. as always, i can't wait to see what everyone is cooking up as the year progresses!

this key will help you figure out which fics are more your vibe, or if you’re just curious of the contents before you dive in:

smut = 🌶️, fluff = ☁️ angst = ☄️

total fics listed below: 24

✎ — 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

↝ the warden by @arcanefox207 — 🌶️ (DDDNE, dubcon)

Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.

↝ hotline to heaven by @chaotic-mystery — 🌶️

An inquisitive man gets more than what he's used to when he pushes the wrong number on a phone sex hotline.

↝ me and the devil by @gracieheartspedro — 🌶️, ☄️ (dubcon)

Joel seeks out revenge on the man who stole from him. He finds you in the process. 

↝ cake by @/wannab-urs — ☄️

You make a cake for Joel on his birthday, but it doesn’t go well. 

↝ father figure by @gutsby — 🌶️

Parents’ Weekend looks a little different this year with Joel showing up in the place of your father.

✎ — 𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐀

↝ strangers by @joelmillerisapunk — 🌶️

You meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

↝ read it again by @almostfoxglove — ☁️

Your best-selling novel is being turned into a Hollywood blockbuster. Ordered to tweak some awkward lines with the lead actor, you've got no clue that the Javier Peña is a massive fan of the source material. He has no idea that the script doctor Stechner just sent to babysit him is the author of his favorite book.

✎ — 𝐓𝐈𝐌 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃

↝ the impaler by @kiwisbell — 🌶️

Chief Detective Tim Rockford makes a breakthrough in New York City’s latest serial killer case. The mysterious culprit is in the mood to share more than information.

↝ cuffed to the grind by @whocaresstillthelouvre — 🌶️

You're working late 'cause you're a detective. Oh Tim looks so good handcuffed to a chair.

✎ — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

↝ bedroom hymns by @saradika — 🌶️

mand'alor!sub!din x wife!dom!reader

↝ pas de deux (series) by @burntheedges — ☄️, ☁️, 🌶️ (finished)

When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

↝ the apostate (series) by @murder-wife

Din Djarin is the most beautiful Angel in existence. The only thing that matches his beauty is his pride. He just can't help but meddle in the affairs of the Mortals. This time, he's gone too far and must be taught a lesson.

↝ beg by @amanitacowboy — 🌶️

Din tortures and edges you with a remote control vibrator.

↝ your king & lionheart (+ marcus acacius) by @kedsandtubesocks

Trouble grows & you’re in need of a personal guard, thankfully Rome’s grand general seems to be perfect - not just for you (but maybe for your husband as well)

✎ — 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐎

↝ never have i ever by @wannab-urs — 🌶️

You and Dieter play never have I ever and it gets spicy.

↝ chaos angel by @always-andromeda — 🌶️, ☄️

It's Emmy night. And your infamous ex-boyfriend is stirring up all kinds of trouble for you.

✎ — 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒

↝ she keeps me up by @iamasaddie — 🌶️

After having sex with you, Lucien is losing his mind over it, unable to let you go from his m

✎ — 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊

↝ the man whose hands are stained by @jolapeno — 🌶️

This week, a man (single) recounts an intimate encounter with his neighbour—a woman who’s lingered in his thoughts far longer than he cares to admit.

↝ pretty in pink by @/gracieheartspedro — 🌶️

You don't stay awake for Dave's arrival. He finds you in bed in a compromising position.

↝ yes, ma'am by @sizzlingcloudmentality — 🌶️

Life goes sideways and Dave is close to snapping. He needs professional help aka let himself be dominated and be at the receiving end for once. Good thing he has your number.

↝ ice cold by @punkshort — 🌶️, ☄️

Dave ghosts you, so you get even by dating someone else in the office. That doesn't sit well with Dave.

✎ — 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄

↝ just once by @eupheme — 🌶️

You know you shouldn’t look for the handsome stranger that shows up, night after night. Should lock your window, forget you saw him. That’s the smart thing to do, after all. But you think you might like that he needs you. That you can’t stop thinking about him. That you can’t stop wanting more.

✎ — 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

↝ cotton mouth by @/gracieheartspedro — 🌶️, ☁️

You need a new dealer and you know a guy through the unfortunate grapevine you used to be wrapped up in. But I mean... the banter is great, and you cannot help but fall for him. But don't fret, he feels the same way.

↝ my, my those eyes like fire by @the-unforgivenn — 🌶️

You’ve heard of the classic Same Bed Trope? Well, what would you call it when all you expect to do is fall asleep in luxury after a missed flight, only to find the room already occupied? Same Hotel Room Trope?

likes, reblogs, and comments keep the motivation alive, so if you’re taking a look at these for the first time, please leave a kind word for these writers or just reblog, even. support your writers <3

[seewetter]

"ofc we’re stupid and illiterate our schools suck!!!"

The whole framing is wrong.

Why are people talking about "stupid" Americans? Because they're discussing why America so often is plagued by decisions with foresee-ably terrible outcomes.

But America is an oligarchy, it's participatory elements are minimal and often pure aesthetic. How much control do people exercise in a first-past-the-post electoral system with massive corporate bribes (Superpacs) that also influence media reporting, which is also a surveillance and police state?

Rhetorical question, right? So if Americans barely exercise control, what are we criticizing? Are we criticizing the >70% of Americans who don't even own a firearm? Or the majority of Texans that vote Democrat...even though it's a "red state" due to how their laws work? Are we criticizing the American majority that shows sympathies for Bernie Sanders, support abortion, queer rights, trans rights, realizes climate change is real and is the reason why "woke" (diverse) Hollywood movies make such money?

Why criticize Americans for watching Marvel, when Marvel viewership numbers have collapsed over the years?

Why criticize Americans for not knowing who James Baldwin is, when James Baldwin is in many ways not someone who affected the course of history or someone who Americans -- who I am CERTAIN use the public library all the time -- would necessarily stumble upon when reading in a public library. What, did you learn about Baldwin from watching Nosferatu? Or maybe a Cronenberg movie? Would Americans borrowing books on history naturally stumble on Baldwin? If they borrow the collected speeches of Martin Luther King Jr. or the Autobiography of Malcolm X, will these reference James Baldwin?

People know who James Baldwin is because he is an excellent writer and certain white Jewish intellectuals in the 1970s stumbled across his prose and made him famous and later Baldwin would burn those ties and became famous within progressive activist circles. This does not mean that a visit to a public library will make people aware that he exists. You have to know what to look for.

Also progressives often know who he is but not what he said. How many progressives do you know who don't care that James Baldwin talked about the "myth of race", that James Baldwin considered post-racial thinking to be more progressive than identity politics? Most progessives who know Baldwin quote him second-hand or third-hand, why are you not mad at them? Why some nebulous idea of "Americans"?

"because you assholes have had FREE ACCESS to THOUSANDS of books and audiobooks and classic films this ENTIRE TIME you’ve been blaming your schools for your elected ignorance!!!"

In 19th century anarchist literature, a distinction was often made between the freedom to do something and the capacity to do something. The freedom and legal right to buy a yacht is nice...but if you can't actually buy a yacht, you have the freedom but not the capacity.

Like how many holidays and free weekends does the average American have? There has to be a better way to educate people with a busy schedule than shaming them about their ignorance, especially when ignorance is tied to class. DON'T misread me. I'm not saying working class people are ignorant. I'm saying some people can afford a very nice education for their kids and other people can't. "Oh, it's on the internet, which is free" is not how people spontaneously become enlightened.

Like: just have a chat with a Joe Rogan listener. They're mostly Trump supporters, but all of the ones I've met are achingly sincere. They really do have the wool over their eyes, they're usually not malicious. And they're really really ...like they don't have a good research strategy. They don't even know what that looks like. They think they're "studying" when they listen to podcasts. That's a thing they think. Do you think free access to libraries and internet has given these people all they need to free themselves from their shackles and the risks they pose to others? Do you think people just spontaneously sit down and every week for a year devote all available time to researching academic literature on a hot button topic? Many of these people don't even know where to find appropriate academic literature ("It's too expensive" thought one Rogan listener I know) and many of them associate these resources with academic agendas.

Look up "hermeneutics of suspicion". It's when people approach a topic looking for ways to confirm their suspicious feelings. That's what's going on there. People read some academic article and they suspect it's all BS. If they don't understand a concept, they assume someone is trying to manipulate them. And why shouldn't they, the media is blatantly dishonest, academia has a number of crises and universities have certain conflicts of interest. Why shouldn't these people spontaneously start from such a place? It's not your job to shame them, because if you do, they assume you are doing so from a place of ideological fanaticism, rather than from a place of informed frustration. You know the meme where trans people talking about gender is represented as Plato and Aristotle in the agora, having a debate, while trans people talking to cis people about gender is represented as a mom helping her toddler assemble building blocks? That analogy applies to any topic. There are a lot of adult "toddlers" out there and if you call them toddlers to their face, they will rightfully be ashamed and upset. They put a lot of work into forming their beliefs, they just don't have a good starting point. Or decent tools. Or non-judgmental 24/7 help. And they exist in a quagmire of bullshit claims. And they relate to misinformation in a vibes-based way if the information otherwise seems to be applicable and more useful in their life.

If someone lives in a media environment that reassures them that they are currently studying the (alternate) facts and informing themselves, or that they are currently getting the gist of the facts from experts, then people won't necessarily use the library or grasp its value. Also you have to use the library correctly.

"and if you expect me to you’re classist and 18 year old Americans are too stupid to know bombing foreign countries kills people so it’s okay if they choose to do that rather than work at McDonald’s and of course I have no idea what stocks are or what colonialism is and MCU is the height of cinema and it’s feminist to wear makeup like."

I find teens accusing every intellectual impulse of being classist and ableist unbearable too, but not so long ago, this website popularized the idea that the only valid criticism of feminism was an anti-racist, anti-classist, anti-ableist, anti-transmisogynist, anti-perisexist etc. criticism.

In other words "I refuse to course correct unless you show me how my current course hurts a minority."

So yes, people will defend American complacency using ridiculous "anti-classist" rhetoric. Because it's the only defense they've seen modelled and maybe even the only defense that's socially permitted in their circle of friends.

Defenses of war crimes are horrible. Period. If people think Americans don't have a partial responsibility just because they were ignorant, they're wrong. But partial responsibility isn't full blame and more importantly: are real Tumblr users actually saying that exact thing in good faith? Are people out there defending ignorant Americans who never talked to a soldiers about what a bomb is and does or who never watched a bomb dropped in a movie?

I agree Disney adults can be irritating, but I think that most Americans aren't Disney adults and those that are... are from all walks of life and varying degrees of ignorance. Are Disney adults, Marvel fans, the ones who don't grasp that bombs kill people? Or is this a weird mishmash of stereotypes that don't capture why America, as a state institution, is such a horror? To me it's also sad that Americans get overly emotional about Mickey Mouse and that Marvel movies got so successful, but I think this is not really connected to America. Marvel movies and Disney parks aren't uniquely American, America is just -- at gunpoint -- the largest economy in the world, so a lot of junk that people worldwide consume comes from there. Disney Parks in Japan or France do quite well and also involve Disney Adults, we just don't hear about them so much and the money is ultimately made by America, a country with military bases in almost every other country. Is this the fault of Disney Adults in Orlando, Florida? I don't think so.

Also makeup is an "unfeminist choice", but feminists should, in fact, fight for people's freedom to make unfeminist choices. Kate Harding had an entire essay on that.

As for the reply:

When trying to convince someone that their reasons for believing something are faulty, always make sure to point out what they may have missed and try not to miss anything yourself.

Let me provide a few examples:

"Did you know that to get to a library here, you have to travel?"

The person you are responding to wrote (and you acknowledged it with "I'm glad you found a way to access our libraries") that to read the contents of a library, all that is needed is digital access.

So then "did you know you have to travel" doesn't make sense as the next sentence. It's on its face unconvincing.

"Since you know so much about us, you must know that our public transportation system is all but non-functional, and a lot of people can't even afford bus fare, let alone their own vehicle, and most of our cities are not walkable. The closest library in the town where my half-siblings grew up was a 30-minute drive away. But there are digital libraries, of course!"

Of course! And their existence invalidates all the detailed descriptions you just provided for the inaccessibility of American libraries. Americans that don't use the libraries don't use them because (A) they forget these exist (B) they don't want to use them (sometimes out of shame, sometimes out of misguided conviction).

"Did you know that not every single one of us stupid Americans has access to a home computer and internet?"

The OP you are responding to was concrete about being frustrated by kids (18 19 20 year olds) on Tumblr. If they're on Tumblr, they must have internet and must be able to access an internet library.

"Did you know that exceptionally strict conservative parents monitor their childrens' internet usage and restrict what they can see?"

Yes and.

Yes, and this influences blindspots that some Americans have.

See, on its own "do you know some parents monitor internet" creates a strawman example, where the people OP was attacking (people who freely use tumblr.com, "the queerest site on the internet") are somehow being treated as if they have parents that monitor their internet usage and censor all content that might burst their conservative bubble. I hope we can agree that these are two different groups of Americans.

"Did you know that school library media centers (computer labs) restrict access to a lot of websites and information that do not pertain to curriculum? Of course you did."

But if the people are goofing around on Tumblr calling others "classist" for expecting them to know stuff, how is the computer lab not restricting their Tumblr access? How does Tumblr pertain to their curriculum?

It's possible that this is a censorship oversight or something, but again, the real counterargument against OPs nonsense isn't "Americans aren't free to know new information" and rather "Americans often lack the capacity to even know what they're looking for". I don't think OP name-dropping James Baldwin and stocks will have given people any real idea of what they need to look for, especially if they need comprehensive education on everything from ecology to statecraft and civics to economics, to history, geography, moral philosophy, epistemology, foreign policy, marginalized perspectives and activism, statistics, organizing, protesting safety, IT security and data protection, narrative structure, narrative experimentation, artistic craft, avant-garde sensibilities (I'm being entirely unironic about that.), reading comprehension, project management, culinary skill, survival skills, networking skills, the list goes on.

This also isn't merely an "American" problem. I know plenty of Australians, Kiwis, Canadians, Europeans who use gmail accounts, don't understand imperialism and need a crash course in epistemology every time a hot button issue comes into discussion because they just keep shouting at each other without treating the other party as a human being with their own heuristic for gathering, evaluating and processing information.

"Did you know that lobbyists are trying very hard to defund and even actively shut down our libraries. Partially because they don't want us to have access to free recources, but also because ignorance works in their favor? Did you know book bans are being placed in libraries across the country, based on what conservatives deem inappropriate?"

Most of those points seem a little off topic (lobbyists trying to defund libraries may affect future ignorance but doesn't account for ignorance today), but I grant that the book bans really might have some kind of impact that prevents people from having heard of James Baldwin. It's a decent reply to the OP, who seems to think all libraries serve up the same information to all Americans. But you should be fair enough to recognize that it still is a bit weird when the people who show up ignorant are ...Tumblr users smart enough to be making accusations of classism.

"Since you know all about how we are educated, you must know that American curriculum is designed to discourage curiosity and create the illusion that we are far and above all other nations and that everything we are taught in our classes about others is simply all there is to know."

What I've heard is that many public school teachers in America are extremely dedicated well-meaning people. I've met a few American teachers and their German counterparts, for example, earn about 20 times what they earn. So American teachers often really are in it to help kids learn.

I'm not sure that the American curriculum really exists to "discourage curiosity", that sounds a bit weird to me. I do know the Texas board of education tried to ban critical thinking and I know American schools have some weird national anthem singing and I bet they teach American exceptionalism. But I would say perhaps the only reason any of that sticks is because Americans often can't afford to visit other countries.

I have not heard that Americans learn that school teaches them all there is to know, but when I think of ignorant Americans, they often give me the opposite impression: that of a "do your own research type" who doesn't think "I know everything from school" and instead just never bothered to buy a book about Atmospheric Phenomena (or grab a illegal free .pdf copy) and therefore thinks some glittering orb in the sky is a alien spacecraft. Genuinely, ignorant people are often really nice people who try to learn about the world, have a real desire to learn new things... and then they watch Graham Hancock or some other well-designed nonsense and they mis-educate themselves and get very defensive if anyone tries to correct them, however gently, in part because they lack even the basic skills to know whether the correction is plausible.

"So, with all of this information that you clearly already had at your disposal, do you genuinely believe these children are cognizant or at all concerned with how much they know about other countries and cultures?"

I think the better question to ask is "Do you really think only Americans would fail at "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?""

Because let's face it, I've seen European versions of that premise, where they go out into the street, ask a basic question ("What's the equator?") and get embarrassing answers ("A line that floats in the sky above the center of our planet").

OPs gripe with "Americans" is that they know other countries exist but just don't care. But hey, are Europeans that much better? In Europe, people know European countries...because countries are small and these are almost like American "states" in a way, especially since the EU is in many ways a country in all but name (and lack of military). How many Europeans know how many African countries there are, what their names are, what their capitals are, what their history is, what colonial powers kept which country under control when and for how long? How many Europeans know anything about Laos or Cambodia? Do Europeans even know which continent Cambodia is on?

And I've talked to Japanese people and found incredible ignorance. And do we imagine that the education system in, say, Burkina Faso or Brazil produces much more worldly individuals?

If you want to criticize specifically American ignorance you need to things: you need lots of real-life examples AND you need to prove these examples are unique to America.

Like India recently managed to get a lot of kids into school long enough to learn how to read, which is awesome! But if someone from India (like OP) is attacking American ignorance, OP is likely doing so from a certain degree of "wealth in the family". That's not a criticism, just a (hopefully humbling) observation. Countries around the world can blame their widespread ignorance on colonialism...and then get upset at ignorant colonizers. But maybe no place on Earth really produces a completely sufficiently informed citizenship.

"Adults who are groomed through adulthood to believe that "bombing foreign countries" and selling their body to their government is one of the only accessible options to receive further education."

Isn't the American military facing historically low recruitment numbers and worried about morphing into a "warrior caste" (their words, not mine) because their recruits mostly come from old military families where everyone's in the military? Not to say the poor person going to the army doesn't exist, but aren't most Americans pretty anti-military, especially these days?

"You believe these people are simply bumbling idiots too self-absorbed to want to learn about the history and inner workings of every other nation around them?"

Why emphasize that public schools brainwash the kids with American exceptionalism and then turn around to argue that the people leaving public school AREN'T self-absorbed about their own country? That comes off as overly defensive, not as a reflective response. I doubt OP found that argument very convincing.

"Like, you understand that not knowing what you don't know is a thing, yes?"

But OP must at least be partially correct. Like -- I would blame maybe feelings of overwhelm at all the information, and maybe mistrust of information sources -- but it does often come across, at least at first glance, that a lot of Americans can't be bothered to understand basic geography. Like they know countries outside of America exist, but aren't bothered enough to find out what they are.

Again, this is probably not a purely American problem, but one does sometimes get the impression that many Americans approach conversations without making sure they have a bit of an overview of the topic. They often just seem to research the talking points of their side in a debate (i.e. they know the history of colonialism better than they know which countries have Spanish as an official language, so it's easy to make them look stupid or they have to ask what tariffs are but they already think tariffs are great since Trump is doing them...like why aren't they reading the "tariffs" page on Wikipedia or whatever, to get at least a general idea? What's going on?)

"I would go as far as to point out the hypocrisy of all of your shaming when the beginning of your post clearly states that you were ignorant of a resource available to you before it was pointed out to you."

Now that's a sick burn. But don't get cozy.

"Your time spent belligerently accusing a whole society of people which you deem unintelligent of being willfully uneducated and unwilling to reach beyond their own privilege would be better spent sharing resources you've found and encouraging others to broaden their own horizons. But hatred of the American public as a whole is a lot easier when you can paint us all as intentionally dumb and heels-dug-in fascists."

It is hard for people to grasp how little control Americans have over their society. When America always advertises itself as "land of the free" it seems like they freely choose to be giant assholes on the world stage.

And it's only with a lot of reflection and/or research that people realize just how much the game is rigged. But still...the people who just flat out support tariffs, for example, without wasting a single braincell on experimenting on how they can find information on it that doesn't come from a possibly biased pro-Trump source...like it feels like willful ignorance. Part of me can't believe it isn't.

ever since i got access to american library cards thanks to tumblr user anneemay (pbuh) 2 weeks ago ive lost even the 3% sympathy i had for americans crying ofc we’re stupid and illiterate our schools suck!!! because you assholes have had FREE ACCESS to THOUSANDS of books and audiobooks and classic films this ENTIRE TIME you’ve been blaming your schools for your elected ignorance!!! from my home in India I’ve listened to eight audiobooks and watched half of cronenberg’s oevre and I’m watching nosferatu (1922) today and I can’t even go to a library in person and you people have had these things your entire life yet you come on tumblr at 18 19 20 and say you don’t know who james baldwin is and if you expect me to you’re classist and 18 year old Americans are too stupid to know bombing foreign countries kills people so it’s okay if they choose to do that rather than work at McDonald’s and of course I have no idea what stocks are or what colonialism is and MCU is the height of cinema and it’s feminist to wear makeup like. my god. you people are going to go through the rest of your life being incoherently stupid and it’s not because you’re poor and it’s not because your schools suck but its because you’re so ensconced in your American privilege that you will never be forced to confront the realities of life and you can go on living your Disney adult fantasies because you’ve destroyed your innate human curiosity and potential at the altar of hyper consumption.

[thatoneautisticshark]

ONG CAN YOU WRITE MORE ABOUT THE SOAP BEING VOCAL HEADCANNON? PLSSS IM BEGGING

I got an ask? I GOT AN ASK! Let's fricken go. Hell to the yes you can have vocal soap. You didn't specify top or bottom so I went with bottom. :3

Soap groaned and sat up, stretching from where he had been doodling, and flopped against Ghost's shoulder. He nuzzled into that big, thick neck.

Ghost blinked at him, looking up from the book he was reading. “Johnny? Did you need something?” He queried, threading a hand into Soaps mohawk.

The scot shook his head, wrapping his arms fully around Ghost. “Nah… just in a touchy mood an’ wanna hold ye love” He murmered into the crook of his boyfriends neck.

Ghost gave another hum, wrapping an arm right around him, before returning to reading his book, letting soap rest against him.

Soap shifted leaning more heavily against the Brit. Jesus, he could fall asleep here. Granted Ghost's shoulder wasn't actually that comfortable, thick and boney at once. But hell soldiers could sleep anywhere uncomfortable.And he felt safe, that was the big thing.

He knew he was okay with Ghost, he was safe and Ghost was here. Everything was okay.He mentally face palmed. Why was he getting so fucking sappy? That was not the goal here. The goal was to get dicked down. If Ghost was amenable to sex today. Otherwise have a wank in the shower.

He began gently kissing Ghosts neck. Kissing up and down his jaw, slightly tense incase Ghost was not into it at all today and shoved him off.

Ghost just gave a hum and no negative reaction, so Soap took it for the encouragement it was, slowly beginning to also suck and nip. He earned a delightful little shivers for his efforts.

He carefully shifted around to the front of his boyfriend, plonking himself on the tallers lap. He was careful to continue necking the whole way, but now pulled back, ever so slightly.“ ‘M assuming ye okay with sex right now? Ye seeming pretty inta it”

Simon nodded, hands settling naturally on the Scots hips, fingers absently rubbing it. Soap grinned “Thank god, I'm horny as fuck. Ye cool with topping today? Really in tha mood to get fucked, but we can work something else out of you want.”

Simon shook his head. “Uhm.. no.. yeah I'm okay with that” He murmured in his uncharacteristically quiet tone that always happened with discussion of sex.

Soap grinned against the neck he was biting again “How ‘bout the mask? Can it come off…Orrrr”

Simon stilled slightly “Uhm… up to the nose”

Soap jumped on this new development, tugging the mask up to the bridge of Simons nose and kissing him, Letting his hands roam those huge fucking shoulders.

He sat up on Simons lap, scrambling to undo his belt, and leaned back a bit too far tumbling to the floor. There was a pause of about 5 seconds before soap burst into laughter. “Jesus Simon. I don' know if ye can tell, but ay am just a little bit horny ye know?”

Simon huffed a laugh pulling soap back onto the bed, pulling his pants down with his, before pulling his own off, earning a scoff from the scot.

“Fookin' show off” he spat playfully, making quick work of both their shirts. “Jesus, I will never get tired of this. Ye so fucking pretty Bonnie.” He murmured, running his hands along the soft, scarred pale skin. “Canne suck ye off? Please Bonnie? I wasn't ye dick in me mouth so bad”

Now soap was naturally chatty in bed, but to say he didn't play it up, just a little to see the pink flush Simons cheeks, who was usually very quiet and reserved in bed, would be a lie.

Upon receiving a nod of consent he dove down immediately licking and sucking. He spat into his hands, rubbing the up and down the shaft to get it slick. “Fuck ye so fucking big Bonnie. Jesus I can't wait to feel this monster cock inside me” He mindlessly poured out filth pressing a kiss to the flushed tip.

He began licking up and down the shaft watching the man above him through his eye lashes. Watching the uncovered half of his face turn a light pink, and his hands grip the sheets.

Well that just wouldn't do. Soap grabbed on of the hand guiding it to his hair before taking the tip in his mouth, relishing in the soft moan he received. He began swirling his tongue over the tip with slight head bobs, using his hands to cover what he couldn't cover with his mouth just yet.

Some how, even with the monster dick in his mouth, he managed to spew flith, albeit harder to understand through the cock in his mouth. “You taste so fucking good love. Fuck I could never get tired of the taste of you”

Simons hips bucked forward, forcing his cock down Soaps throat making him gag, tears springing up in his eyes, as the cock hit the back of his throat.

Simon gasped pulling back “I-Shit Johnny I didn't mean to are you okay? I-”

Soap shut him up with a kiss. “Shush, I am fine. Remember I like gagging on it. Anyways ye buckin’ ye hips just mean ay was doing good”

He dove back down properly sucking this time, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head. When Simons hips bucked again, he moaned around the length. This was heaven he was sure. Having the heavy weight of Simons cock filling his mouth, and Simon an pretty moaning mess above him.

Looking up at the man through his eyelashes, he felt his own, already hard, cock twitch with interest. Simon was resting his head against the wall, face pretty and flushed, blond eyelashes fluttering.

Soap groaned at the sight. “Fuck ye so pretty Bonnie” It didn't take much more before Simon was pulling him off with shaky hands, wanting to avoid cumming to early.

With his mouth now free, Soap kissed his boyfriend, loving the groans Simon gave at tasting himself on soaps tongue. Soap licked into his mouth groaning, rolling his hips without thinking about it. “Come on love, fuck me already” he whined into Simons mouth, rolling his hip again.

Simon needed several breaths before he could put himself together enough to talk “Hang on Johnny..you.. you need prep.”

Soap just giggled. “Nup. I don'.” At the confused and slightly concerned look he received, he continued “Appreciate the concern Bonnie. But just because we haven't fucked today, doesn't mean I ain't fucked myself thinking of you. So ay am more then stretched, okay?”

And Jesus Christ, soap wanted to grab his phone and take a picture.

Or scratch that, he wanted to burn this image into his retina, wanted to see it all the time, every time he closed his eyes or blinked he wanted to see it.

Simon looked like a fucking painting.His eyes blown wide, face a bright pink, mouth hanging open still a slight string of their mixed saliva dribbling down his chin.

After giving it a whole two minutes, Soap booped his nose “Earth to Simon?”

He blinked a few times before letting out a quiet “Oh”

Soap traced a hand down the muscled chest “Yeah oh. So we good? Because I need you in me like.. yesterday. Come on”

Simon nodded. Finally pushing soap back against the bed and hiking his knees over his shoulders. Soap let his head fall against the cushions. “Fuck yes Simon. Please. God you are gonna feel so fucking good with you huge fucking dick. Come on just fuck me.”

As soon as Simon started pushing in, soap let out the most whorish pornstar moan before whining “Oh fuck oh fuck. Yes yes fuck me. Mm fuck~”

As Simon finally, finally bottomed out, soap groaned. “Oh god.. oh fuckk.. Simon you're you're so big. Fuck I'm so fucking full. So good” he blabbered mindlessly, rocking his hips.

He let out a keening whine. “Come on. Fucking move Bonnie! I need you. Please please please. I'll do anything”

Simon slowly began to fuck into him, moaning quietly as he pulled out and pushed back in. His moans were very covered by Soaps whines and cries.

He cried out as Simon pulled out ramming right into his prostate. “Oh god yes! Simon! Right fucking there! Please please. I'm yours, just please.. keep ah~”

Simon began to pick up pace, ramming right into his sweet spot every time. Gripping Soaps hips with a bruising grip as he slammed into him.

“Simon! Simon! Please I'm so fucking close don't stop! Please please please please” The scot babbled mindlessly, drool dribbling his skin.

It didn't take much more to send him over the edge, thrust in a hard orgasm, clenching around Simon as he fucked him through it.

It only took a few more thrusts before Simon finished inside of soap, before flopping on his chest.

When he tried to pull out, soap hooked his ankles behind his arse pushing him back in. “Not happening Bonnie. I wanna feel you in me”

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Cauldron of the Reborn: Escape from Black Castle

a fanwritten Halloween event

summary: when Malleus receives an invite from a distant relative to a historic castle in Briar Valley, he can't refuse characters: malleus, lilia, rook, epel, jamil, original character(!) additional info: reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

I hate everything I've written in the past month except for this series so this is what you're getting now. ENJOY MY TERRIBLE OC!!!

prologue / chapter one / chapter two

taglist: @whatever-fanfics @chloemari-e @frog-fans-unite @sugar-sprinkles

Forest Path - Morning

"I'm hungry!" Grim demands, paws on his hips.

He'd stopped walking in the middle of the crumbling cobblestone, facing the six as if they were a pack of ravenous wolves and he, a band of huntsmen.

...Though, it was more like the other way around.

"We've been walking for hours, and all I've had is seeds! I ain't a bird!"

You sigh, walking around Rook and Jamil to scoop the direbeast up. As soon as he's out of the path, their feet begin treading it again.

"We're almost there, Grim. And there's going to be a banquet, remember? You wouldn't want to spoil your appetite, would you?"

Grim pouts, grumbling something about mashed potatoes and chicken.

Lilia smiles. "He's quite the handful, isn't he?"

"He's two handfuls,"

"Khee hee. And yet you care for him anyway. How fortunate it is that you've found each other in this crazy world," the fae says. "Not everyone has such close friends."

He falls silent. He turns over his shoulder and looks at Malleus, pleasantly reading as he walks.

Lilia catches you looking, too, and smiles again. "He's had his head buried in that book of ancient carvings all day. Cymur is known for their beautiful inscribed stones,"

"This place is pretty old, huh?"

"Ancient. Though not isolated. It was once a powerful kingdom, an important ally to early Briar Valley. Of course, the days of trade and war are long over, and it's rather quiet here, now. Lots of sheep,"

You snort at that, and Lilia's smile softens. The soft pitter-patter of shoes against stone catches up to you, and Epel appears at your side.

"Oh? Come to join the conversation?"

The boy shakes his head, nods, and then- "No- I mean, yes. I wanted 'ta hear the rest of the story you were telling,"

That seems to spark some interest between the five of you (Malleus is still reading, quite contently), and Rook, then Jamil, both join you at your sides.

"I would also like to hear!"

"It would help pass the time, at least,"

Lilia laughs. "Oh, my, you remind me of children, asking for a bedtime story. But... I don't see why not. Let's see...

...Ah, yes. The Lich King, the cruel warlord, who sought to conquer Briar Valley, was powerful indeed- he could summon fire and lightning, disappear and reappear at will, some say he had even immortalized himself... but he was still not powerful enough to see through his plans. And so, he sought for a magical artifact, one so powerful it could raise an entire army."

"An artifact?" Jamil says. "Like something that could grant wishes?"

Epel shakes his head. "It has to be a weapon of some kind. A sword, or a spear!"

"Perhaps a powerful enchantment?" Rook chimes.

"Or a magic mirror?" you ask.

Lilia laughs again, amused by your childish interest and your ambitious guesses. "Khee hee... what imaginations you have! No, no. It was a cauldron,"

The four of you look between each other, and then: "A cauldron??"

"Like the kind you cook in?" Epel asks. "Or the ones Deuce's always dropping on people's heads?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of the ones we use in alchemy, but I share the disbelief," Jamil mutters.

"Khee hee. Technically, Epel's guess was most correct. It was just like one you would cook in!"

"...I don't get it," the boy mumbles.

"What's so special about a cauldron?"

"Ah, you see, it-"

"I recognize that stone," a quiet, yet leering voice calls out from behind your shoulder. You, Epel, and Jamil jump. Rook admires a beetle on the ground.

Lilia is picking his teeth. "Do you, Malleus?"

"Yes. It's in this book," the prince says, pointing towards a tall rock, jutting out of the earth at the precipice of a hill not too far ahead.

"The book says it marks the entrance to Black Castle...

...Which means, we've arrived,"

Black Castle - Bridge

"...Wow,"

Grim is the only one who speaks, and that's all he can say.

Black Castle (or what's left of it, really), sitting atop an island of black stone, casts its shadow over the seven, over the shallow, murky lake that surrounds it, and the dark woods and rolling plains beyond it. Despite its crumbling facade, its boarded holes and missing turrets and wind-whipped canvas cloth, it's massive.

"My," Lilia whistles. "Someone has certainly been keeping it well."

"It's almost as large as Castle Blackscale. Perhaps that's where it got its name?" Malleus asks.

The shorter fae clicks his tongue, and starts towards the thin stone bridge ahead. "Oh, no. This is much, much older than the capital, Malleus,"

The others (Grim still curled up in your arms, chewing the end of your uniform tie) follow him towards the imposing wooden gates ahead.

"There's no doorbell. Surely, no one will hear a knock through that," Jamil says. "We are on time, but-"

The gate responds with a sickeningly loud screech, opening its gaping maw, and the doors beyond.

"Well-guarded," Rook murmurs, an appreciative hand trailing down the wrought-iron case of the doors.

"...Yes, Black Castle was an important stronghold in many wars," Lilia goes in first.

Malleus follows. "Mm? Even-"

"No, not that," the fae says. "This place was already crumbling and decrepit in my youth, and supposedly abandoned. Though now, I see that's not right."

Black Castle - Hall

The rest stays close behind Lilia, as if hiding. None would admit it, but, with the exception of Rook, all were a little intimidated by the castle.

The interior is just as you would have imagined; dimly lit by sconces along the grimy stone walls, ancient tapestries hung along the drafty corridors, silver light from the lancet windows slivered across the floor...

Malleus and Lilia look right at home.

"You say it was abandoned?" Jamil asks, his tone steady, although he's practically clinging to your arm, diligently searching the halls for spiders.

"Oh, yes. Well, that's what we thought," Lilia says. "But it's not uncommon for fae to shack up in whatever old hovel they can find, khee hee."

"This is no hovel," Epel murmurs.

The six (and Grim) walk further into the cavernous castle. Aside from the torches and the rather well-kept state of it, there's no sign of life. Lilia seems rather unbothered by this, but Jamil's brow is knotted and his hands are tight around your forearm.

"Ah, here. Do you hear that?" Lilia asks. Malleus nods, though he's alone.

Epel raises an eyebrow. "Hear what?"

Lilia doesn't answer, rather, walking further, and then you hear what he was talking about- mingled with the scuff of shoes against the stone and the breaths of their peers, is the sound of music.

Malleus tilts his head up, a smile on his lips. "Smells like..."

"Roast lamb," Lilia finishes.

Grim perks up at the word "roast", wiggling out of your arms and scampering ahead on all fours. "I smell it, too! And sausages, and fish, and cheese, and cakes!"

"He can smell all that just from a whiff?" Jamil mutters.

Rook hums, leering over your other shoulder. "Non, he is right. I smell it, too,"

Lilia leads you around a corner, and another, and then to another pair of iron-bound doors, warm yellow light spilling from the cracks in the wood, the smell of food and the sound of merry music stronger than ever.

"A proper reception. How hospitable," Malleus smiles, admiring the engravings in the iron around the doors. "Shall we?"

Lilia nods, but before he can even lay a hand on the wood, the doors open from the inside. Light, the smell of meat, and the sound of harp and flute wash over you.

It takes but a moment to adjust to the starkly different atmosphere of the banquet hall. Its vaulted ceilings and wrought iron chandeliers, floating baubles of light, account for its size, a roaring fire in every corner, tables of food and drink of every palette across each long wooden table. Hooded servants in long black robes move in and out of one of the many doors, carrying silver trays of delicacies, tending to the fires, tidying up in chainmail gloves.

"You two are drooling," you mutter. Grim has stars in his eyes, and Epel isn't far off. Lilia chuckles.

Then, a voice, deep as the valley in which in the castle sits,

"Ah. My esteemed guests of Briar Valley," it says. You all turn to it, and atop a throne, raised high off the ground, is... a boy.

He stands.

If the staglike horns coming from the tousles of dark brown hair, rutilant in the warm light, atop his head and cascading down his shoulders weren't enough to stare at, when he stands, he becomes taller than anyone in the hall. He's pale, almost gaunt, and looks as if he has not slept for a millennia.

The shadow he casts over you is big enough to swallow you whole.

"I humbly welcome you to my home."

[helenofblackthorns]

everytime I see this image (which is quite a bit lol) it always strikes me how weird it is that Ty's book specifically says The Fall. like why is his different, because it's clearly not The Spring and probably isnt The Summer from what we can see... like The Fall always just makes me think of Lucifer & all the Princes of Hell falling from heaven and I can't tell if thats on purpose or if I'm reading into "the Blackthorns are descendants of Belial" too much (again)

[burningcheese-merchant]

СПАСИБО БОЛЬШОЕ ЗА ВАШ ОТЗЫВ ПОЗИТИВНЫЙ МНЕ ПРАВДА ОЧЕН ПРИЯТНО но к сведению

in fact

вы и так это уже сделали, ну точнее я не удержалась

не могу перестать радоваться вашему представлению о Спайсе, конкретно в вашем исполнении он мне безумно безумно нравится

Я надеюсь он целует на ночь своих деток и читает им что-то там не знаю что обычно родители читают детям перед сном

My God you actually did it

I love you so much, man. You have no idea. I can't stop looking at this. Cat Spice is SO!!!!! BEAUTIFUL!!!!! I'm so enthralled by everyone's fur patterns, too, I just. I don't even know what to say. I feel blessed looking at this. You are a fantastic artist, I envy you

Kitten Paneer ❤️ Cat Golden ❤️ CAT SPICE WITH KITTEN JACK ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ THAT'S MY FAVORITE PART! YES, SPICE, LOVE YOUR SON! GIVE HIM ATTENTION! HOLD HIM CLOSE TO YOU! HE FEELS SAFE AND SECURE WHEN YOU DO THAT! PLEASE HE'S SECRETLY AFRAID YOU DON'T LIKE HIM AND THINK HE'S A DISAPPOINTMENT, TELL HIM HE'S WRONG! TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM MORE THAN YOU EVER LOVED YOURSELF!!! TELL HIM HE MAKES YOUR DAY BRIGHTER JUST BEING THERE!!! TELL HIM YOU'D LAY DOWN YOUR LIFE FOR HIM!!! BE A CARING FATHER!!! AAAAAHHHHHHHHH

(And yes, he kisses his children good night. Golden kisses them while they're awake, Spice kisses them after they've fallen asleep. Still got a bit of the "tough guy" mentality stalling him lol)

( + He actually reads to Jack at bedtime a lot more often than to Paneer. He reads a lot to Jack in general, it's one of the ways Jack likes to spend time with him since he loves books and both he and Spice are smarties. Paneer prefers that Jack reads to her, she likes how he tells stories lol)

[aspenmissing]

Hello my dear!

Sooo, I'm a huge fan of reading (especially reading fantasy books). And I can't get the headcanon out of my head. Where Viktor x Reader having a cozy evening in their shared apartment. And out of the sudden, Viktor is showing interests for Readers book. With every question he is asking, she feels, like she's falling in love with him all over again. And feels loved and appreciated for his interest in her hobby. So she just wants to cuddle and kiss him so badly.

Like, seriously....I would be on my knees for a moment like this in rl! ;---;

ꜰᴀꜱᴛᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ || 2352 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴ/ᴀ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ. ᴍʏ. ɢᴏᴅ! ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴀɴᴏɴ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ꜰᴇʟʟᴏᴡ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ - ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ… ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ. ɪꜰ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ, ɪ'ᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɪɴ ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙᴇᴀᴛ!

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

It was one of those peaceful evenings in their shared apartment, the kind that only came after a long day of work, filled with little moments of quiet bliss. The soft hum of the city outside mingled with the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth. Viktor had finally set aside his cane for the evening, resting in a comfortable armchair, his back relaxed but his gaze still filled with a quiet intensity. Y/N sat beside him on the couch, a book open in her lap. Her fingers gently turned the pages as she found herself fully immersed in the world of myths and legends, a world far removed from the realities of Piltover.

Viktor, however, had been restless, his mind working over a small project on the table. The sound of gears clicking and metal pieces shifting filled the air, but it wasn’t the usual mechanical rhythm that usually filled their home. Tonight, there was something else in Viktor’s eyes. It wasn’t his usual focused intensity, but something gentler, more present. She noticed him glance over at her a few times, his gaze soft, almost as if he were seeing her in a new light.

"Y/N," Viktor’s voice broke the quiet, soft but full of curiosity. "What is it you're reading, Lásko?" (Love)

Y/N smiled up at him, a warmth spreading through her chest at the sound of his voice, always so attentive. She couldn’t help but feel special when he asked. “It’s a novel about myths and legends from the Vastaya people,” she explained. “A collection of stories that weave together history, magic, and forgotten realms. It’s one of my favourites.”

Viktor leaned back in his chair, resting his cane against the side, his focus shifting from his project to her. “The Vastaya… I know them in passing, but I’ve never had the chance to truly learn much about their myths. Why does this particular book resonate with you?”

Y/N closed the book and looked over at him, her heart swelling slightly at the genuine interest he showed. "I think it’s because these myths remind me of where I come from,” she said, her voice softening with the emotion she carried. “They tell stories of things I feel in my bones, things I can't always explain. There's a connection to my roots in them, something deeper than what words can fully capture.”

Viktor’s expression softened, his eyes taking on a more tender look as he processed her words. “That’s… beautiful, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I can understand why it would be so meaningful to you. You have such a deep connection to your heritage. It’s truly a part of who you are.”

Y/N smiled, feeling both grounded and uplifted by Viktor’s words. It wasn’t often that he opened up about how he saw her, and when he did, it left her feeling cherished in a way she couldn’t quite describe. She glanced at the book in her lap, then back at him, her gaze lingering for a moment.

“Tell me more about the myths,” Viktor urged, his voice soft but filled with curiosity. “What’s your favourite story from this book? I want to know everything.”

Her heart fluttered at his genuine interest. Every question he asked made her feel more seen, more understood. She leaned back into the couch, her fingers tracing the edge of the book, the words tumbling out of her mouth as she began to describe one of the legends, about the ancient guardians of her people. Her voice grew more animated as she spoke, the passion in her words unmistakable. Viktor’s gaze never wavered, and his attention was unwavering. He was completely absorbed in her every word, hanging on to each syllable as if it held an entirely new world for him.

When she finished, he leaned forward slightly, his voice low and full of admiration. “It sounds… enchanting,” Viktor said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The way you describe it, it’s as if the myths come alive through your words. I’d love to see more of what inspires you."

Her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she felt as though her entire being was being pulled towards him. Viktor had always been brilliant, focused, but right now, he was utterly absorbed in her, in her stories, in the things that mattered to her. It wasn’t just about the myths; it was the way he made her feel—deeply valued, loved for the parts of herself she often kept hidden.

Unable to stop herself, Y/N moved closer to him, her hand gently resting on his, her thumb brushing lightly over his skin. “Viktor…” she whispered, her voice trembling just a little with emotion. “You make me feel so… seen. So loved.”

Viktor’s gaze softened, a tenderness flickering across his features. He reached out to pull her gently into his arms, the warmth of his embrace enveloping her in a way that felt like coming home. He kissed the top of her head, his voice soothing, filled with care. “You are loved, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know. More than I could ever put into words.”

Y/N felt a wave of affection rush through her, and as the minutes passed, the fire crackled in the hearth, casting a soft glow on their faces. The quiet hum of the city outside was barely audible, and in that peaceful stillness, Viktor placed his project aside completely, giving her his undivided attention. His hands moved to gently tug her closer, and with a soft, inviting smile, he whispered, “Come here. Let me hold you for a while. Just let me listen.”

Y/N’s heart skipped once more as he offered her the chance to simply be, to share not only her thoughts but herself with him in the most simple and intimate way. She shifted in his arms, settling against his chest, her head resting against his shoulder. Viktor’s arms wrapped around her, his warmth seeping into her as if he were offering not just his body, but his very soul.

She let out a soft sigh of contentment, feeling her body relax into him, her fingers absentmindedly tracing over the fabric of his shirt. He gently kissed the top of her head again, his voice low and filled with affection. “Would you… read to me, Miláčku?” Viktor asked, his words barely more than a whisper. (Darling)

The request, so tender and personal, caused her heart to swell. She smiled, feeling the deep love and appreciation he had for her. She picked up the book once more, and as her voice filled the quiet room, she felt a warmth spread through her chest. As she read aloud, the words seemed to come to life, her voice dancing in the air as Viktor listened with rapt attention, his hands gently running through her hair. She could feel the deep connection between them, the way they both shared this small, perfect moment in time.

And as she continued to read, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that she was falling in love with Viktor all over again. It wasn’t the grand gestures or the loud proclamations of affection, but these quiet, intimate moments that spoke volumes. He had always been so focused on his work, so absorbed in his genius. But tonight, it was as if he were completely absorbed in her.

The fire crackled softly, and as the evening deepened, Y/N closed the book, setting it aside. She looked up at Viktor, her heart full, her thoughts scattered in the best way. She kissed him softly, slowly, as though to show him just how much she loved him in return.

“I love you, Viktor,” she whispered against his lips, her voice thick with emotion.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied, his words steady and sincere. “More than you could ever know.”

And in that moment, as the fire flickered and the world outside faded away, Y/N felt completely at peace. Wrapped in Viktor’s arms, with his love surrounding her, she knew there was no place she’d rather be.

The days drifted by, each one marked by their quiet routines and the bond that seemed to grow deeper with every passing moment. After that peaceful evening, where Viktor had so thoroughly captured her heart with his quiet attention and affection, something began to shift in the way they spent their time together.

Every time Y/N finished reading one of her beloved books, she would set it down on the small coffee table beside the couch and stretch, content with the peaceful moments she shared with Viktor. But soon, she began to notice something strange.

The next day, after finishing a particularly captivating myth about the ancient spirits of the Vastaya, Y/N placed the book on the table, intending to return to it later. When she stood up and turned around, she noticed a small package resting on the table. It wasn’t there the moment before—she would have noticed it, surely.

Curious, she reached for it and carefully unwrapped the soft leather cover. Inside was a new book, its pages crisp and untouched. She turned it over in her hands, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she read the title—Legends of Lost Civilisations. It was exactly the kind of book she would love, filled with ancient stories and hidden histories.

Before she could even process it, Viktor appeared beside her, his expression warm and a little playful. “I thought you might enjoy something new,” he said, his voice low, almost shy, as though he wasn’t sure how she would react. But there was a tenderness in his gaze that made her heart flutter.

Y/N looked up at him, her lips curving into a smile. “You—Viktor, this is... I don’t even know what to say.”

“I noticed how much you enjoy your reading,” Viktor continued, his voice soft, “and I thought you might appreciate a new one to add to your collection.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “I hope it’s to your liking.”

She pulled him into a tight hug without thinking, overcome by the warmth of his gesture. “I love it,” she whispered, holding him close. “Thank you. You always know exactly what to do to make me feel so cared for.”

Viktor’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, his voice rumbling with affection. “I pay attention,” he murmured. “I want you to feel loved, Lásko. And I’ve noticed the joy you get when you dive into your stories.”

Over the next few weeks, it became a small but cherished tradition. Every time Y/N finished one of her books, a new one would appear on the table—sometimes wrapped in soft fabric, sometimes simply resting there, waiting for her to discover it. Viktor had an uncanny ability to choose books that fit perfectly with her interests, each one a little more special than the last.

One day, Y/N had just finished the latest one—a beautifully written account of the starry skies and the constellations that were said to guide the Vastaya when they first arrived on Runeterra. She placed it down, ready to settle in for another quiet evening, when, to her surprise, a new book was waiting for her on the table.

This time, it was an older volume, its edges slightly worn, and its leather cover embossed with intricate designs. As she picked it up, she noticed the weight of it, and the delicate gold leafing on the spine. The title was faint but readable: The Heart of the Wilds: A History of the Vastaya’s Ancients.

Her heart skipped. This was a book that her grandmother had once spoken of, a rare and treasured work from generations before her. It was a history she thought she might never find. She looked up at Viktor, who had been standing by the fire, watching her with that same quiet smile.

“How… where did you find this?” she asked, her voice filled with awe.

Viktor stepped closer, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. “I asked around, did some research,” he said, his tone nonchalant but with a glint of pride in his eyes. “I knew you’d appreciate it.”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she held them back, overcome by the thoughtfulness of his gesture. “This means so much to me,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You always go above and beyond for me. I can’t… I can’t even put it into words.”

Viktor’s hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away the softest of tears that had slipped down her face. “You don’t need to. You never need to explain how you feel, love. I just want you to know how much you mean to me.”

In that moment, Y/N leaned up and kissed him, softly at first, then deeper as the emotions between them swirled and tangled. She felt the weight of his affection, the tenderness in every action, and it made her feel loved in a way she hadn’t known was possible. When they finally pulled away, breathless, she smiled up at him.

“You know, I think you’ve spoiled me, Viktor,” she said, her voice playful yet sincere. “I may never want to read another book that doesn’t come from you.”

Viktor chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And if it means you feel special, then it’s worth it.”

That night, as she sat down to read the new book Viktor had so thoughtfully given her, she felt as though she were falling in love with him all over again. With every turn of the page, every word of affection, and every shared moment, Y/N realised just how deeply Viktor cared for her—and how lucky she was to have him by her side.

And so, with each new book that arrived, her love for Viktor only grew, filling their home with a quiet kind of magic—a magic that had nothing to do with spells or machines, but with the simple, profound ways they made each other feel truly seen and cherished.

[soggy-hemlock]

ooo a tag, thanks :)

3 ships I like

House and Wilson (House MD), Dandelion/Jaskier and Geralt (The Witcher), and Jon and Martin (The Magnus Archives)

first ship

uhh probably rythian and zoey from the Yogscast but can't remember super well

last song i heard

something by Of Allies, i think it was Play Dead

favourite childhood book

i vividly remember not being able to get to sleep because i was too scared after watching Ghostbusters so i started reading the Famous Five and really latched onto those for a while

currently reading

Sword of Destiny, the second book in the Witcher series

currently watching

part way through season 2 of House MD

currently consuming

about to have breakfast, probably just some cereal

currently craving

really want a milkshake but I've not risked one since i realised I'm lactose intolerant

no pressure tags: @swordcats @boneless-loafcat @kwizard @hydrangeadangea

9 10 Fandom Folks to Get to Know Better

Thanks so much for the tag @schofielded !!

3 Ships I Like

Okay so I’m currently writing for Anderperry so they have to be at the top of the list, Reddie is my beloved which I fear will follow me throughout my life so they’re next, and hmm idk what to put for my third one since I like to read for a lot of ships and have barely written for others. I think I’ll go with a surprise pick and say Boreo! Tragic gays for the win

First Ship Ever

Omg I actually cannot say it was too embarrassing. The first one I’m willing to say is Larry which is also embarrassing and I regret it but I fear the fanfic was so good sorry.

Last Song I Heard

Drums of Death by FKA Twigs. I am addicted, something about the beat is just so good.

Favorite Childhood Book

This is kind of hard for me because I mainly had author phases as a kid rather than just one book that I adored. Looking back, though, I would probably say The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo was my favorite. Her descriptions were so good that it made me want to eat paper like the mice.

Currently Reading

Four Minutes by Nataliya Deleva! It’s a queer Bulgarian novel I’m reading for my around the world goal and I’m really enjoying it so far!

Currently Watching

Just finished watching Swing Girls (2004) so I’m counting it since I’m between TV shows right now. Anyway the movie was so cute and feel-good, I definitely recommend!!

Currently Consuming

I had fried chicken for dinner if that’s what this is referring to. Anyway it was good!

Currently Craving

A strawberry limeade with added coconut and cream from Sonic 💔 I don’t have my car rn so I am stranded sadly

No pressure tags: @neil-perrys-suicidal-tendencies @vinesandvellichor @good--merits-accumulated @lc-27 @axe-76 @dreadedwhim @poetrusic1959 @yawping-poets-society @scriptscraps @neilperryismine + open to anyone who wants to join!!

[olderthannetfic]

Ever since JKR terfed out, I've seen a lot of people talking about alternatives to Harry Potter. And i respect it, because I do think most of those people have good intentions, not to mention there are obviously people out there who are genuinely uncomfortable with the series and can't divorce the art from the artist.

But idk...for a lot of people, they like Harry Potter because it's Harry Potter. While some might find comfort in picking up a different "magic boarding school", "chosen one", "found family", "kids as the heroes", etc story, or whatever it is that someone might enjoy about HP...for some people it goes beyond just tropes or settings or character dynamics and they just like HP. They like Hogwarts, they like Harry and his classmates and teachers, they like to read about the creatures in the specific way they exist in the Hp universe, they like to read about Quidditch, they like things and characters that are only a thing within the Wizarding World and the "read another book" thing just doesn't work. (The "read another book" MEME though, however, can be pretty funny depending on the context though, ngl.)

Anyway, like, I get it, I really do, I have a lot of sympathy for those who want to separate themselves from HP forever. I don't think they're all virtue signallers/performative activists/whatever else you might say. it's one thing to call HP irreedemable media and how you should DNI if you still like it, it's completely different to be like, "hey here's another magick school story that might fill the void for those who genuinely want to cut all JKR out due to their own comfort"!

But regardless of you twist it, there will always be people who just...still enjoy HP. And I'll admit I do sideeye those who *knowingly, being aware of her politics* monetarily support her who wrote the books, but I don't think that having your House in your bio, or writing/reading fanfiction, or buying unofficial merch, or using the HP things you've already bought...I don't think any of that is bad by default. It's wild to me that some people think that those are all inherently red flags. And for some people, letting go of a franchise entirely is really hard, especially for most of the demographic of the HP fandom that I know, those who grew up with it as a part of their childhood and as SUCH an iconic pop culture thing. I'm not gonna read some new up and coming series if you just market it to me as "best friends at a wizarding school, but with more diversity than HP!" You know where else I can find that? HP fanfiction.

--

[bloggerspam]

Just A Quail

for @reaching-writing , loosely inspired by Just a Quail, by Louie Zhong

===

"Do you ever regret it?"

Danny blinked away the stars floating in his head, constellations slowly fading away as it turns from his astrology book up to Sam.

They were lounging in Tucker's dorm room, waiting for him to come back from his talk with one of his professors about something or other.

Sam was on Tucker's bed, crocheting another one of her purple eldritch creatures—a baby yeti, gaping maw still missing its yarn teeth.

Danny was curled up on Tuck's roommate's beanbag chair, reading as they waited in comfortable silence.

"Regret what?" Danny finally answered after too long. Sam was fiddling with the working yarn, tapping her a chewed up neon green nail against her crochet hook.

"Letting me kill you." Sam croaked out, adamantly looking down at her lap and curling up just a little more. "Again."

Danny blinked again, taken aback. "No, of course not. Why?"

"I dunno," Sam bites her lip, still not looking at him. "It's nothing. It was. I was just thinking, is all."

Danny closes his book, unfurling from the beanbag to make his way over to the bed. He slides in on her left side, not too close in case she doesn't want to be touched, leaning back against the headboard and lifting an arm.

Her teeth are making indents, rubbing the purple of her lipstick off, but she scooches under it anyway. He squeezes her shoulder, leaning his head against hers, lets the silence sit for a moment as he chooses his words.

"What is this all about?" Danny finally decides on. "I didn't think it bothered you this much. Have you been thinking about this for the last 5 years?"

Sam jolts, but grabs onto Danny's hand so he's not dislodged, whispering. "I—it's just. You've been having issues lately…"

Sam reaches over him to cradle Danny's left hand, hold it down between their laps, tracing the lichtenberg scars with a tingly gentleness.

"Is this because of my last doctor's appointment?" Danny whispers back. "Sure, I have to wear a brace now for the fine motor skills, but I hardly have any finesse anyway—"

"Your heartbeat is slow." Sam cuts off, finally looking up at him with that violet gaze, "Too slow for NASA. You get trembles in your entire arm, and you won't say it but your left eye's been fucky with vision."

Danny purses his lips, tilts his head away with a careless shrug. "I can work as an engineer instead. Sam, what is this really all about?"

"I just—I had that ethics class the other day and it made me think, you know? Really think. About how I basically took away your one dream, how I could have just. We could have found a way, and you wouldn't have to deal with all this bullshit and get to be an astronaut." Sam looks down at her lap again, looking a little crushed. "I'm going to intern at my dream non-profit. Tucker's getting recruited for that Game company he's been talking about since we were thirteen."

"And I'm going to be in school for a long while yet." Danny finishes when Sam can't. Her shoulders hunch up and squeeze just a little to hard at his hand, if he were still human that is.

"Sam, look at me." Danny urges, grabbing her hand and twisting them so that he's cradling hers instead. He waits until she complies. "Sam, all I ever wanted to do was go to space, learn about the stars, see it all up close. Maybe build rockets."

Sam's face crumples, but Danny lets go of her hands to tilt her chin up, keep her steady. "I can still do all of that—I have done all of that. Sure, it's a little harder to do as a human, but I'm not human."

Sam starts to lose that teary look to her eyes, so Danny lets her go, leans back to look up at the glow in the dark stars they stuck up on Tuck's ceiling so he'd remember them when he's lonely.

"I'm okay with where I'm at. I'm okay being human and fragile and grounded, because that's not all that I am." Danny turns his head towards her, gives her a wide smile. "How's that song go? I used to think I'd wanna be a bird of paradise…"

"But I'm happy being just a quail." Sam's smile is wobbly, but it still warms him up all the same.

The door kicks open, Tucker stepping in with an armload of books he didn't have before and pausing at the doorway when he catches them on his bed.

"….Are you guys back together?" Tucker comes fully in, dropping the books with a loud cascading thumpthumpthump. "Or is it platonic cuddle time?"

Sam and Danny share a look, laughing. Tuck grins, jumping onto the bed and causing them all to bounce all over the place.

And it's good, of course it is. They're all together, after all.

Birds of a Feather.

[tr4gictea]

Hallo!! can I req a lyney, kaveh and haitham x reader (again..) with reader who constantly overworks and ends up sleeping t theirb desk? I loved the last rain fic u rote RAHHHH thank you sm!!

Overworked!Teen!Reader+Lyney,Kaveh,&Alhaitham

❥Masterlist

Tags: fluff, overworked reader, no beta we die like men,

Including: Lyney, Kaveh, & Alhaitham

word count: 3k words

A/n: Hi! thank you for the request @cheri-2047! Heyyy... how yall doing... I'm back and I am going to post constantly. And one announcement at the end of the story!

Also, state if you want your fic to be written in a platonic or romantic manner or I will choose for you. This is very much a threat >:D (JKJK(kinda(not really(but please write what the intentions you want(this is for your enjoyment and my piece of mind that i made something you wanted(I love you <3))))))

Alhaitham

Art: @ Ahiii7 on twitter

You stare at the clock in the corner of the desk, the hand is slowly creeping towards midnight. The library was empty except for you, your desk was scattered full of textbooks, essay guides, and empty cups of coffee. Your tired eyes gaze over the essay structure, ensuring that every comma, period, and word is perfect. This essay had to be perfect.

You rub your eyes feeling tiredness wash over you but you can't stop now. Your hand was starting to cramp up from how much you were writing but you had to keep going. You can't stop. Not now. This Akademiya application essay is too important. If you don't get into the akademiya now that will throw off your whole plan of becoming the youngest person to join Spantamad in the akademiya's history.

Getting into Spantamad at such a young age would prove your capable. Your parents expect nothing less from you, you've always been told you have what it takes. But was that true? Do you really have what it takes to get into one of the best schools in teyvat?

You push those thoughts aside. No, you have to be perfect. You continue to scratch away at the essay on your desk annotating notes you hadn't noticed before. When suddenly a bolt of pain is sent through your hand, making you drop the pen and grip your hand in pain.

You begin to massage your hand, and you allow yourself to sink into your chair. Your eyelids felt so heavy, that all you want to do is rest and be done with this essay. Maybe you can take a quick nap, just to so you can get some energy. You set the timer beside you to 30 minutes so it wouldn't be too long of a nap. It couldn't hurt to take one break, could it?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Alhaitham was always the first person to enter the akademiya. Even before he became the acting grand sage he was always the first person to enter those doors. He has a set-in-stone plan that he has put together for himself to follow. Even if one thing is off, his whole day feels like a mess.

First, he wakes up before the sun rises and has a short 3-mile run, he then gets ready for his day while Kaveh is talking his ear off about something. When he arrived at the school he'd enjoyed the silence of an empty place.

That's why when he hears a loud beeping coming from inside the library he is immediately ticked off. He marches his way into the library prepared to kick some student out. His 10 minutes of silence in the halls have been ruined by some student thinking there someone special to be able to leave that noise going and no think that he's- Oh wait, it's you.

When the acting grand sage turns the corner, he is met with the sight of you sleeping on a library desk filled with stacks of books and cups of what looked like coffee. He turned the alarm on your desk off with a small tap. Your face was scrunched into an angry face and you were mumbling something in your sleep.

He hated to admit but it was kind of, cute.

He looked at the papers in front of you, they were submission essays to the Akademiya. Each one was different from the last. Touching on a different subject in each essay he read. He's seen these essays before, you showed them to him so he could check if there were any mistakes. He had told you they were fine but you somehow managed to find the smallest mistakes a re-write the whole essay again. You've been overworking yourself too much lately and it was not good for someone of your age.

"(Y/n), (Y/n)?" Your breathing was slow and it looked like you were deep in sleep. You were probably up for a while if you are still in the N3 stage of sleep. He would take you into his office so you could get some rest away from others' eyes.

He draped his cape over you carefully picked you up and carried you to the elevator up to his office. He figured it would be less embarrassing for you to be asleep in front of a bunch of college students.

He placed you on a couch he had placed in his office a couple months ago. Alhaitham looked down at you on the couch and saw your smile soften.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Your eyes began to slowly blink open, the soft fabric underneath your body was comforting compared to that hardwood desk. You hugged the pillow next to your head allowin- wait.

You blink your eyes open at the sudden realization that you aren't at your desk anymore. Your body shoots up from its resting position and looks around the new area. Your eyes adjusted to the new lighting and a blur of what looked like an office came into view. It looked like Alhaitham's office.

"Hm? You're up," You turned your head to see Alhaitham at his desk writing down something on a stack of papers. "I've prepared a cup of chamomile tea for you." He gestures to a cup of tea on a side table beside you.

You thanked him and took the tea off the table, it was warm to the touch and wasn't too hot at all. "How long was I out for?"

"10 hours and 46 minutes," He responds. You hum in response and go back to your tea. "You know, you shouldn't be overworking yourself like this."

"I know, I just... need everything to be perfect." you sigh and hug your knees close to your chest.

"Perfection is something even the greatest scholars have never achieved, and you will never reach it either," His reply felt cold but warm at the same time. You could tell he was trying to give some type of comfort in his own weird way.

"But, if it's not perfect, what's the point?" How am I supposed to be the person that everyone thinks I am?

"In truth, people want something real. Something that reflects your thoughts, your ideals, and personality." He looks up from his work and gives you a small smile. "You are a very sharp and determined person, I know you are more than capable of writing this without having to work yourself to death." Were those words of comfort? From Alhaitham?! The most unloving man alive?!? And with a smile that wasn't condescending?!?!

"Who are you and what have you done with the Acting Grand Sage?"

His smile falters into his condescending smirk. "I let you sleep in my office and this is the thanks I get? Ungrateful." He rolls his eyes playfully.

"Words of comfort from you are odd." You chuckle.

"Hm?" He raised his eyebrow at you, "I do not know what you mean? I am always comforting,"

"Okay then name one time in the past week that you comforted someone."

He pulled his arm under his chin and thought long and hard about it. "Ah yes, I gave Layla notes on her thesis and told her it was average enough to get an 'A'. "

"You didn't actually say that to her, did you?" Your mouth agape at this man's lack of social skills.

"No, I didn't say it to her," He pauses for a moment. "I wrote it on the front of her essay." The scholar answered with a straight look on his face.

"Dude..."

Lyney

Art: @ m_iothle on twitter

"Fuck..." You sigh as you let yourself fall onto the ground. You are currently atop a roof in the Court of Fontaine looking into the window of a Fontainian official's house. You had been tasked, by Father, to gather as much information as you could about the man as you could.

The dim light inside the home and the moon are the only things illuminating your surroundings as you adjust your position. You take out a notebook and start flipping through weeks of information on this guy. Every detail mattered — what this guy ate, who he spoke to, what time he went to bed — it all mattered.

Reading through you could see patterns forming, patterns that could be this man's downfall. But the job was taking its toll. You barely slept for weeks, surviving off caffeine, small sandwiches, and will. Though your senses have been sharpened through harsh training you find yourself having trouble keeping yourself upright.

"Just one more hour..." You mumble as you try to fight off sleep, your words echo in your head as you scribble down more notes in your journal. Minutes blurred into another as your eyes grew heavier, you fought the sleep, shifting into other positions, but your body had other plans.

And just like that — they were out.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Lyney grumbled, tapping his foot on the floor as he waited for you to return from your mission to give him a briefing. His teeth shuddered as a cold breeze hit him. Lyney had been waiting up to an hour for you to show up but to no avail had he seen any sight of you.

You've been late to meetings, but never more than 10 minutes. An annoyed expression spread across his face as he realized he would have to come find you himself. About half an hour later Lyney found you knocked out on the roof across from the target.

"Hmm, aren't they adorable?" Lyney hums to themselves as they smile down at they're sleeping, sibling. He scans over your face taking note of your eye bags and unkept hair. Your notebook dangles loosely from your fingertips, he bends down and plucks it from your hands. You've been neglecting to take care of yourself and from the looks of it, you fell asleep on the job. Well we can't have that, can we?

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

A loud crack jolted you from your sleeping position. You sprung yourself up from your relaxed position — ready to fight whoever shot at you. But to your surprise, you only find Lyney with a straight face and his eyes showing no emotions for you to read.

"L-lyney?!" You blurt out, "What are you-, wait! Is it check-in time already?!" You say in a panic suddenly remembering the meeting.

"Yes, my dear sibling it is far past the time we agreed on," He grumbled. "And not only have I found you asleep on the job, you have also left yourself open to attacks."

I scoffed at his words "I'm hidden, the target has no idea I'm here."

"Hm," He hummed then lunged at you, he grabbed your arm and twisted it behind your back. "Even if you are hidden that does not make you invisible — you are still open to attacks."

You struggle against his hold, every time you try to pull yourself out of his grip Lyney twists your arm causing pain throughout your body. "Well, I just woke up and you're stronger than me."

"Is that the excuse we should carve into your grave then?"

You stop struggling for a second taking in his words. Your body was noticeably sluggish, normally when someone had you in this position you could easily twist your way out of it. But your exhaustion had cost you some of your strength — which left you helpless under Lyney.

The magician loosens his grip and lets you move away from him. "Y/n, I get it, this is your first mission and you want to do your best. But this is not the mission you should lose sleep over."

"I know... but I want to make Father proud and give me more missions in the future—,"

"— And they will, but at this rate, you'll burn yourself out." A pang of frustration and concern twisted in his chest. "If you go about every mission like this then you'll end up hating the idea of getting sent out on the field."

You keep your head low feeling a twinge of shame for overworking yourself. Lyney lets out a sigh and places a hand on your head, "You did great work today Y/n, you should be proud."

A smile threatens to appear on your face as he praises you, "But the next time Father sends you on a mission I hope that you will remember to take care of yourself. Got it." It sounded like he was more demanding of you than asking.

"Yes sir!" you say, excited about the prospect of getting a second mission.

"Good, now head back to the house and get some rest," He turns away from you and starts flipping through your notebook. "I'll take care of the rest."

Kaveh

Art: @ m_iothle on twitter

Who says that kids can't handle pressure? Because they obviously haven't met you! The demanding life of owning a restaurant is tough on your parents; so you're here to lighten their load. Do they need more utensils? You'll buy some! Short staffed? Pfft easy, you'll jump in! Crippling debt from when your father started the business? Take it out of your own pocket! When people ask you about the pressure, what pressure? Pressure is for non-achievers who are too scared to get what's needed to be done.

You live and breathe by this mantra; it's all that keeps you in business and out of the streets. You work hard as your parents' underpaid accountant. The idea of the business clasping caused you to work long work hours well into the night, such as this night.

The evening moonlight shows through the window, casting on your face. The dinner rush has started, and the sound of utensils hitting plates runs through your ears. Your parents are running from kitchen to table carrying heavy trays of food and empty plates. You can see tired lines itching onto their faces as they tirelessly work.

The restaurant work had also taken a toll on you — causing you sleepless nights wondering if you were gonna have a home the next day. All you could do was adjust your parent's budgeting to something more sustainable.

You are currently seated at the bar working out the details of next month's budgeting plans. You rub your temple to try and soothe your nerves. You look at every cent of money that goes in and out of this place. Every little dollar counts.

The rent is due soon. The money was looking scarce. The price of tomatoes is getting higher, so we might need to push more egg-related dishes to customers. Maybe you could switch to a cheaper brand. Looking over the spreadsheet it didn't seem like your parent's restaurant had much time left. Maybe —

Your head snapped forward, then snapped back up.

No. You have to stay awake.

You blicked rapidly and chugged down half a hot coffee to keep you from falling asleep. You needed to figure out how to save the business. If the restaurant went down then your parent's dreams would go down. This place wasn't just a job for them but also their home, literally. Your father never looked happier when he was in the kitchen even with bags forming under his eyes. Your mother thrived on making recipes for others to try. And you lived here — it offered such a warm and inviting atmosphere that you loved.

So you pressed on, even as your eyes grew heavy and your head dropped...... SLAM!

A cup slamming on the table jerking you up right from your half-sleeping state. You look up to see a slightly drunk architect sitting next to you. You recognized the man as Kaveh, the famous architect who often came down to your parents' restaurant to drink his sorrows away. You two frequently chatted when he came around and considered each other as kind of friends.

He had a joyful expression on his face and looked to be celebrating something by himself. This is odd for him as when he comes in he's often here to yap on about some horrible client he's has.

You are unsure of when he got there in the short time you rested your eyes but it was probably a little while ago. You look at the clock across from you, it reads 11:36 PM. Fuck, you let yourself relax and wasted an hour and a half. You groggily stretched out your arms and lazily picked up the pencil to continue your work.

"Late night?" Kaveh says facing his body toward you.

You fidget with a strand of your hair. "Something like that." You huff out.

"You don't look that great," He said trying to put it as nicely as possible.

"I'm fine," You brush him off as you take a sip of your now cold coffee. His eyes scan over the mess of papers surrounding you and frowns.

"Y/n, I get you're trying to help your parents but — you can't do that if you're dead on your feet."

You let out a small chuckle "Those are some wise words for a drunkard."

He chuckled nervously, remembering a certain sage who spoke those words to him "Yeah, they're technically not my words but they helped me when I was working myself to death."

"Well, I don't really have a choice," You mutter. "If I don't fix this budget then—,"

Kaveh stops you with a hand to your face. "The restaurant will not shut down if you rest during the night." He furrows his eyebrows. "This restaurant is your parent's responsibility — not yours."

The architect reaches for the paper in front of you and carefully stacks them together. "Now, you go rest for however much you need to and come back when you have energy?"

You wait a beat before responding, one night's rest couldn't hurt? "Alright," You sigh in defeat as you push yourself off the high stool.

The numbers could wait — just a little while.

For my announcement, I will not be as genshin-focused from now on. I will still post genshin things if you request it but I will be trying to focus on other fandoms like MHA/JJK/Demon Slayer. This is mostly because I have not been enjoying genshin anymore and it's gotten kinda stale in terms of everything. So if you have any requests I will do them but other than that I'm not writing genshin. (also, yes true meaning will continue but it will end at Fontaine because I don't wanna write Natlan #ProudNatlanStoryQuestHater)

More Genshin Impact Stories *ੈ✩‧₊˚

More Alhaitham Stories ˚ ༘ ୭ ˚. More Lyney Stories ₊˚.༄ More Kaveh Stories ˚ ༘ ୭ ˚.

REMEMBER TO SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON, OBLITERATE THAT FOLLOW BUTTON AND, REQUEST FOR A SHOUT-OUT IN MY NEXT VIDEO 🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

“I’m going to get a little wonky and write about Donald Trump and negotiations. For those who don't know, I'm an adjunct professor at Indiana University - Robert H. McKinney School of Law and I teach negotiations. Okay, here goes.

Trump, as most of us know, is the credited author of "The Art of the Deal," a book that was actually ghost written by a man named Tony Schwartz, who was given access to Trump and wrote based upon his observations. If you've read The Art of the Deal, or if you've followed Trump lately, you'll know, even if you didn't know the label, that he sees all dealmaking as what we call "distributive bargaining."

Distributive bargaining always has a winner and a loser. It happens when there is a fixed quantity of something and two sides are fighting over how it gets distributed. Think of it as a pie and you're fighting over who gets how many pieces. In Trump's world, the bargaining was for a building, or for construction work, or subcontractors. He perceives a successful bargain as one in which there is a winner and a loser, so if he pays less than the seller wants, he wins. The more he saves the more he wins.

The other type of bargaining is called integrative bargaining. In integrative bargaining the two sides don't have a complete conflict of interest, and it is possible to reach mutually beneficial agreements. Think of it, not a single pie to be divided by two hungry people, but as a baker and a caterer negotiating over how many pies will be baked at what prices, and the nature of their ongoing relationship after this one gig is over.

The problem with Trump is that he sees only distributive bargaining in an international world that requires integrative bargaining. He can raise tariffs, but so can other countries. He can't demand they not respond. There is no defined end to the negotiation and there is no simple winner and loser. There are always more pies to be baked. Further, negotiations aren't binary. China's choices aren't (a) buy soybeans from US farmers, or (b) don't buy soybeans. They can also (c) buy soybeans from Russia, or Argentina, or Brazil, or Canada, etc. That completely strips the distributive bargainer of his power to win or lose, to control the negotiation.

One of the risks of distributive bargaining is bad will. In a one-time distributive bargain, e.g. negotiating with the cabinet maker in your casino about whether you're going to pay his whole bill or demand a discount, you don't have to worry about your ongoing credibility or the next deal. If you do that to the cabinet maker, you can bet he won't agree to do the cabinets in your next casino, and you're going to have to find another cabinet maker.

There isn't another Canada.

So when you approach international negotiation, in a world as complex as ours, with integrated economies and multiple buyers and sellers, you simply must approach them through integrative bargaining. If you attempt distributive bargaining, success is impossible. And we see that already.

Trump has raised tariffs on China. China responded, in addition to raising tariffs on US goods, by dropping all its soybean orders from the US and buying them from Russia. The effect is not only to cause tremendous harm to US farmers, but also to increase Russian revenue, making Russia less susceptible to sanctions and boycotts, increasing its economic and political power in the world, and reducing ours. Trump saw steel and aluminum and thought it would be an easy win, BECAUSE HE SAW ONLY STEEL AND ALUMINUM - HE SEES EVERY NEGOTIATION AS DISTRIBUTIVE. China saw it as integrative, and integrated Russia and its soybean purchase orders into a far more complex negotiation ecosystem.

Trump has the same weakness politically. For every winner there must be a loser. And that's just not how politics works, not over the long run.

For people who study negotiations, this is incredibly basic stuff, negotiations 101, definitions you learn before you even start talking about styles and tactics. And here's another huge problem for us.

Trump is utterly convinced that his experience in a closely held real estate company has prepared him to run a nation, and therefore he rejects the advice of people who spent entire careers studying the nuances of international negotiations and diplomacy. But the leaders on the other side of the table have not eschewed expertise, they have embraced it. And that means they look at Trump and, given his very limited tool chest and his blindly distributive understanding of negotiation, they know exactly what he is going to do and exactly how to respond to it.

From a professional negotiation point of view, Trump isn't even bringing checkers to a chess match. He's bringing a quarter that he insists of flipping for heads or tails, while everybody else is studying the chess board to decide whether its better to open with Najdorf or Grünfeld.”

— David Honig