#augury speaks

[the-auguer]

I just couldn’t write a Belphie POV for my fic fear of falling apart (shameless plug) and I was wondering if it’s because I just don’t like him. In simple terms, yeah. But in not so simple, it’s cause I just can’t understand him or get into his head.

Warning: a whole rant is ahead. Just for my peace of mind.

While I don’t personally like Belphie, I do have a certain appreciation for his character. He is interesting, but what’s more interesting is what he could have been. I feel as though he could have been developed a LOT more into a really layered character that had a complex and interesting relationship with the MC after the whole Lesson 16 debacle. But it was such a massive waste of time. More than half of the entire first season was building up to the Belphie confrontation and all of the juicy, crunchy interactions and character moments that would have to follow an event like what happened. But it just didn’t happen. I’m not talking about the lack of apology or the canon “awkwardness” that the MC had to fix. The fallout, the consequences, of that entire situation should have been meaty. And obviously, everyone reacts to trauma differently so it’s hard to put that in a self-insert game, but there should have been dialog/action options or plot progression. PLOT PROGRESSION. Diavolo and Lucifer just inadvertently got the only human without magic in the exchange system killed on their watch. Simeon and Solomon— and VERY MUCH Solomon— should have been fucking on that. We could have had higher stakes than ever, even more than whatever forced “Celestial War” bullshit that Nightbringer tried to pull. Instead we get another 4 lessons of fluff and hyjinks. 

All that tension, all that suspense crashes down and is wiped away in an instant, leaving the player to wonder if the whole Belphie thing was even that big of a deal in the first place. 

I think that a really, really compelling dynamic could have been born from Belphie… not apologizing. Or apologizing but for the wrong things. He took the demon threat that had been hinted at with nearly every demon brother and fucking hammered it home. The MC couldn’t do a damn thing and just died. Just like that.

Just… there were so many different directions the game could have gone to really flesh out the Three Realm Student Exchange aspect of the world, and make Diavolo a character that isn’t just secretly super interesting. Or even just to make any characters other than Mammon and Lucifer (the faves) a little less two dimensional. Maybe even explore what it is to embody sin and still love. Finding love despite or because of that sin. Idk, I’m just a home fanfic writer.

But it pains me to see a product that had so much potential, a CHARACTER that had so much potential, get squandered.

Long rant told shortly, I don’t write Belphie because I just can’t. There’s nothing for me to extrapolate from. Lesson 1 - 16 Belphie is a different person from who emerges afterword. And I just can’t compute who he is, what his motivation is, what his wants are. I can’t get into his head or even make something up for him yet.

Anyway, if you read this far thanks :P

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

The Romans had Issues, but I think they were onto something with the sacred chickens. I'm 100% in favor of making my elected officials shut up for five minutes and get approval from a fat spoiled fluffy bird first every time they want to appear on television.

[icarodamiano]

Damiano + wishing a dear friend happy birthday

[solarunion]

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[PT: Solar Union, D.I.D. System, It/pyre. Main blog: @pyrriax, MCYT enjoyer. Icon credit, header credit. Frequent posters and tags: Lazarus, She/he/sol, The crown prince. Planet, Onei/onier, Ode to a dreamer. Leviathan, It/voi/oneir, Endless void. Hollfron, It/glitch/void, Glitched space. Nocturne, Pyon/voi/it, No universe to end. Spoke, It/cil/rain, Neon dreams. Full list can be viewed here! Other tags and info: Seraph speaks, original posts. Angel's augury, answered asks. Solar sketches, drawings. Galactic gallery, art saving. Headmate blog directory: @krowfangs, @bloody-nocturne, @onwardoneiroi. This blog is a constant work in progress, come back again! /end PT]

[cemeterything]

can we know more about your fantroll's relationship to her purpleblood friend *bats eyelashes* she's so cool

i can only speak for myself, since terack isn't my oc, but augury and terack's relationship is incredibly bad for both of them. on augury's side, it's a convenient excuse not to face up to the frightening possibility of change; to bury her head in the sand and tell herself there's nothing that she can do but go along with the way things are and bear witness. on terack's, it's a way to repress any guilt she might feel for his actions, by having a passive enabler to confide in and mold in his own image. it's a parasitic arrangement, with both parties upholding it mostly out of a sense of responsibility and an inability to imagine how anything could ever be different, which has led to a great deal of bottled up resentment and self-loathing that's starting to widen the cracks in their already fragile bond. after entering the game, the plan was to have terack force augury to god tier by killing her, leading to augury finally realising that this "friendship" isn't worth the sacrifices she's made to maintain it, and using terack's betrayal as a turning point for her goals and priorities. this results in a feud developing between the two, with augury convinced that, in order to protect everyone else from her, and fulfil her responsibility as his former best friend, she needs to be the one to put terack down (which i realise is very scourge sisters, but whatever lol). obviously this doesn't work out the way she thinks it will, because her god tier ability to divine the most fortuitous path is blinded by betrayal and years of repressed bitterness finally welling up to the surface (which is thematically appropriate, since terack's classpect is thief of mind).

[stochastiz]

i'm distracting myself from real life by thinking about magic users who stim using their spell components

of course there are the classics of using your arcane/divine focus and/or material components to fidget with:

rolling augury sticks/bones/dice around in your hands or pushing them around a table, shuffling and cutting your tarot deck

feeling the softness of the feathers used for flight-based magic

twirling small pieces of wire and constantly bending them into various shapes before straightening them again

pulling your amulet along the chain that holds it along your neck, using a particular spot or groove along its surface as a worry stone to rub your finger on or pick at

but what about the verbal stims you can make out of the arcane and divine languages the magics are based in:

turning casting phrases into patterns to chant or challenging yourself to repeat them as fast as you can like tongue twisters

picking out the particularly satisfying parts of the elemental languages used in your casting to echo throughout the day

maybe a non-magical party member picks up bits and pieces of the phrases the casters of the group say as they cast and try speaking them for themselves, seeing how the words form the potential for magic in their mouth but find no purchase to be brought into existence

i've mainly been thinking about somatic and physical components as stims though. how the intricate finger and wrist movements used to pluck magic out of thin air must be so satisfying. but also how a magic user who might gesture wildly as they speak or try to keep their fidgeting fingers from drawing too much attention could be gesticulating with movements from their spells unintentionally, and what sort of subtext that could lend to what they are saying:

a cleric going through the motions of a bane or a blessing towards their conversational partner, depending on how the conversation is going

gesticulating through an emotion calming spell as they try to talk someone down from a heated argument

a wizard saying "sorry, could you repeat that?" as their fingers imperceptibly twitch through their language comprehension spell and they focus more of their attention on the speaker

a druid fumbling to catch an item they dropped as their fingers try to summon a vine instead of reaching for it themselves

nervous fingers busily trying to cast invisibility on the body they're attached to after their joke falls flat

fingers rubbing temples in a similar way to how they would cast a spell to see through illusions or invisibility as the caster continues trying to see the solution they know is right in front of them

hands subtly motioning to produce flame or acid or electricity in their palms before being outstretched to shake the hand of a new acquaintance that has already managed to rub the caster the wrong way

hands that jolt into the beginnings of protective spells with each roll of thunder or crack of lightning the caster hears outside

it just seems very right to me

[bellewintersroe]

Carlos Sainz x CelebEx! Reader 18+.

Carlos’ ex, world famous model, actress and, much loved F1 presenter, Lila Maynard bumps into him during the Italian GP and she confronts him about his hypocrisy 🙄🙄 (arguments and ensue and we see how Carlos most definitely makes it up to Lila).

what do you all think of Isa’s tik toks? I’m living for her liking all the shady comments, she’s a queen.

“Tanti auguri a te, tanti auguri a te!” I winced in confusion, recognising the tune of ‘Happy birthday’ being chimed out in Italian. September 1st, there was only one person I knew celebrated on that day and that was my ex boyfriend of six months, Carlos Sainz. Fuck. “Tanti auguri a Carlos, tanti auguri a te!”

“Hip, hip hooray.” I sarcastically muttered to myself, keeping my head down and walking out of the hotel, a wall separating the Carlos frenzy crowd and I. Thank god, my stomach churned just at the thought of catching sight of my ex boyfriend. We had been separated for almost six months, and not spoken in five. Despite working on the grid, interviewing drivers I was strictly able to avoid the Ferrari garages, occasionally I’d go speak with Charles, but it was difficult seeing as Carlos was always nearby, watching me with these puppy eyes that made me want to gauge my eyes out. You see, Carlos seemed to move on pretty quickly with a beautiful model, our two year relationship clearly meaning nothing more than one month to him. Four weeks. That’s all it took, it sickened me to the core. I still had an internalised anger directed towards him, but it was squashed when I stepped out from behind the wall and was suddenly face to face with an innocent looking Carlos.

Hooray…

My breath hitched and out of pure panic, I began with a breathless; “happy-” but I was cut off when a beautiful, tall brunette appeared by Carlos’ side. Carlos looked stunned, mouth open as his eyes were wide staring at me. The girl looked me up and down before staring right back to the Spanish man. She hooked her arm around his protectively. My jaw fell slightly agape and I nudged my chin up in acknowledgement. “-Birthday.” The words fell flat, as did the harsh pounding of my heart. It dropped all the way to the bottom of my stomach as I turned away in a revolted shock.

I strode straight past him, plastering the most fake smile over my face as I waved to people yelling out my name. As soon as I climbed in the back of the car I was a trembling mess. Jesus fucking Christ, that couldn’t have been more awkward. I felt the tears well up as I stared directly down to my cream pants, the camera flashes from out the window capturing me in the most vulnerable moment as I attempted to shield my face, swiping at the tears. Hours later, the images were sprawled all across social media. Images of my head down, tears stained down my cheeks, images of me directly across from Carlos, stood face to face with him and the girl pinned as his new ‘lover’. It wasn’t the same girl as I’d seen all over tik tok, Instagram and Twitter all those months ago. Still, it bothered me. Really bad. It seemed social media was having a frenzy over the cringe worthy interaction, people were trolling Carlos saying it was his ‘birthday canon event’ to bump into me. I truly had no desire to head out that evening, but I knew wallowing in a hotel room on a Friday night would do me no good, so I was two glasses of wine down with three of my friends when I heard a very familiar tune. “Tanti auguri a te…” I groaned, dropping my head onto my arm, rested on the table below. “End my fucking life. Now.” I muttered.

“Oh, Lila.” Taylor sighed, twisting a strand of my hair. Listening to what seemed to be the whole bar singing happy birthday to my ex boyfriend was the final straw for me, I took off early. But not before I took one final trip to the toilet.

On my way out, I audibly sighed at the heavy feeling lingering over my chest. When would this ever end? I pushed my lipgloss and phone back into my bag as I stepped out from around the corner. I wasn’t looking where I was going and bumped directly into another body.

“Oh, fuck!” I blinked a few times, stepping back. “I’m so sorry-” my apology fell flat when I looked up and caught sight of the stranger- stranger.

“I- wanted to talk to you…” two pairs of familiar hands were on my shoulders, easing me as my stomach filled with nerves instantaneously. It was Carlos. He must’ve heard the way my breath hitched, his hands slowly dropping as we just stared back to one another.

“Talk to me?” I swallowed, “in the girls bathroom?”

“Actually… here is fine, Lila.” My eyes fluttered shut as I pitched the bridge of my nose momentarily. “I- look, happy birthday and well done in practice and all, but- I-I really don’t want to do this Carlos.” I admitted as he swallowed harshly. The first thing that gave away he was nervous.

“I just wanted to say sorry from earlier.” The Spanish man muttered. I avoided looking at him, if I stared for too long I’d fall in love or a deep hatred all over again for him. Maybe both. I didn’t want to know how his hair was longer, or his smile didn’t blossom so big anymore- the small details like scars, freckles, things that would all come back to me if I looked at him a little too long.

“Why? What-what about earlier?” I stammered.

“I saw you upset. I don’t want to make you upset.” My jaw tensed as I stared down to the floor below. “I- can you look at me?” He attempted to reach forwards, but I took a whole step back.

“No.”

“No?”

“No, Carlos. I can’t.” I responded firmly. “You can’t look at me?” He sounded hurt now, exactly how I’d been feeling all day. For the past six months in fact. Maybe I was being irrational, but it didn’t bother me to care, I felt so humiliated and betrayed by this man, worst of all I still loved him. If I looked back at him I know I’d break down.

“Please.” He lowered his voice, stepping ever so slightly forwards as I felt my eyes prick, my teeth grinding down on a certain point of my cheek to prevent any from falling. “Let me explain, Lila, everything.” His voice was on edge, cracking with each word. There went the tears. I blinked up, rolling my eyes at my pathetic ability to hold any tears away. I wiped at the one that fell quickly. He looked taken back, saddened, just as he was about to reach forwards to console me, I thought, fuck it, what’s the point in holding back now? “Explain what? How you moved on after four fucking weeks Carlos? Or-or why you’re talking to me when your fucking girlfriend is sat in there.” My hand gestured as I spoke harshly. I stared directly back to him, he was shaking his head in rejection of my words and it fired me up almost instantly. “No-”

“Oh, don’t even try to deny it. I saw everything, all the models, all the yachts, were you spiteful of me?? For making the decision to end something that wasn’t fucking leading anywhere?” Maybe that wasn’t so correct, but in my blinded rage I didn’t care, I wanted my words to be as harsh as possible. I wanted to cause maximum disruption the way he’d caused me. Maybe that was the wine talking… or maybe it wasn’t… “No, no.” He shook his head, the frustration growing on his face. “We are not doing this here, bebé.” The accidental pet name flew a dagger directly into my chest, twisting and snagging on my heart the longer I stared back to him.

“I’m not your-” I cut myself off seeing another, oddly familiar face walking around the corner. I was sure she was extremely familiar to Carlos too.

“Carlos… what’s going on?” The English girl questioned, she eyed back to me and in that moment I felt uncomfortably sorrowful for her. She hadn’t exactly done anything wrong.

“I’m just… sorting some things out, I’m sorry, you should go.” He muttered as I cringed for the girl, my stomach churning at the rejection. Although it was deep down what I wanted, that was an extremely spiteful thought of me.

“Okay.” She awkwardly spoke, eyeing me up once more. “I am sorry.” Carlos muttered. “Um… it’s fine.” The poor girl paused for a couple more seconds, obviously contemplating what the hell had just happened. I could only stare at the wall in complete awkwardness, questioning how this could possibly get any worse? Part of me just wanted to walk away, the other part of me physically and emotionally couldn’t. Carlos let out a deep sigh once she’s headed around the corner, away from the two of us. “I had only met her twice.” He spoke, much calmer now. “That was mean.” “I know..” he quietly spoke as a silence took over us when a few more people walked past to go into the toilets.

“Was that who I thought it was?” One girl muttered to her friend, her voice echoing down the hallway. “Should we ask for a picture?”

“Lila, please. Can we go somewhere quieter.” Carlos asked at the perfect time. Hearing the girls turning around I or back up to him, desperate to avoid the eyes of onlooker that could spread dreaded tales around social media. Carlos took me to an empty room upstairs, nobody was there, no staff, nothing. He locked the huge wooden door behind us both as I awkwardly lingered by a table. It must’ve been some kind of function room, a small one that wasn’t in use. I was positive we weren’t allowed up here, but from the looks of things, nobody noticed, and the cameras were all pulled from their hinges, hanging off wires sadly. “I had only met her twice.” Carlos repeated his words from downstairs. I leant back on a table as he stood in front of me, pacing slightly. “And your girlfriend on the yacht?” I stared to the ground below. You could feel the vibrations from the music, and as the clock was striking 9 I slowly lost any desire to be in here.

“Not my girlfriend.” He shook his head. “I needed a- distraction.” He fumbled over his English slightly as my heart swelled. I dragged my nails slightly over the skin in a bid to rid the warm feeling.

“Estaba enojado.” (I was angry). His voice sounded more deflated as he stood still, picking the wood of the table below. “Why?” My voice borderline whispered. “Because…” he began in English again but his voice came to an abrupt stop. “Porque pensé que ya no me amabas.” (Because I thought you did not love me anymore).

It took me a couple seconds to piece the Spanish together. “What does that-” I froze, head tilting up to him. “You didn’t think I loved you anymore?”

Carlos shook his head, tensing his jaw as he stared down to the table below. “So-so you wanted to back at me?” My voice lowered, the anger sizzling out of my body. The thought of him believing I didn’t love him hurt. It made me feel sorrowful, remorseful, and for the first time, understanding of why he did what he did.

Carlos now nodded with a yes and I pushed myself to stand up straighter, so we were a little closer. “I always loved you. I still do.” I watched his movements stop at my admission.

“That’s why it just hurt so bad to- to see them in my place after four weeks.”

“It was 3.” He then commented as I froze again. “3 weeks. If we are being honest.”

A dizziness ran through me, a sickness like no other as I stared back to him now, bottom lip trembling.

“Me convierte en una mala persona.” “Stop with the Spanish, I don’t understand.” My voice trembled as his head snapped up. He always spoke Spanish as a safety barrier, so I couldn’t exactly always tell what he was opening up about, especially when he was nervous. “It makes me a bad person, Lila.” He reached out, smoothing a hand over my cheek. I shook my head as a ‘no’ but he had already began nodding. “Yes.”

I nudged his hand away, my head dropping as I let out as light sob. “No, no, no.” He panicked, “ven aquí.” (Come here). Carlos pulled me into his chest as I attempted to hold back the cries I wanted so desperately to let out.

“No, no, no.” He muttered again, rubbing up and down my bare arm as I took a deep breath, wiping under my eyes carefully. “They didn’t come close.” Carlos then spoke. “They didn’t come close to you. I love you, and always you.” His words festered something deep inside of me, a feeling that I couldn’t control. It was the exact same warmth and comfort I felt around him, the way our soul’s felt connected- it was an irreplaceable feeling to say the least.

“Carlos.” I whispered, turning up as he began using his thumbs to swipe away my tears. “I hate you.” I whispered, the words lacking any sense or meaning as he sadly smiled, running a hand down my hair. “I know.”

“I really hate you.” I pathetically spoke, both his hands holding either side of my face. He looked mesmerised, strands of hair was brushed over my face, his mouth was agape as we both stepped closer.

“I know.” Carlos muttered even quieter, his head dropping as my eyes fell onto his lips. On my toes, I met him half way. I love you… I didn’t know what was happening in that moment, but it was like we automatically met half way, our lips landing on one another’s in a hungry kiss. Our teeth clashed dramatically, body’s bouncing against the tables and chairs behind us, all without breaking apart the kiss.

My hands pulled him closer, desperate to feel him, all of him. One of his hands firmly held the back of my head, the other pulled my waist into his, forcing our bodies tightly together. A desperation inside me mixed with how heated the kiss was had my hands flying towards his belt. “Please. Carlos, please.” I whispered, giving into all attempts of putting a barrier up. I needed him, and he needed me. He let out a slight moan of agreement, refusing to the break the kiss.

I began undoing his belt swiftly, feeling his hands tug up on the short dress I wore as he fell to his knees. My hands disconnected from his belt and held onto the table behind me for stability. My breathing was heavy and laboured, and I couldn’t even think straight as he yanked my underwear down, not even getting them fully off my legs before his mouth attached to my pussy.

“Oh- fuck.” I gasped, eyes rolling back at the pleasurable sensation. His tongue was warm and wet against my core, his fingers tightened around my hips, yanking them up onto the table once he’d freed me from my underwear. I didn’t bother being quiet, the music downstairs would drown out my moans, and I was pretty sure nobody would venture up here anyway.

“Carlos.” I gasped, my fingers tugging on the ends of his long hair, the familiarity driving me insane as I dropped my head back, riding his mouth as he slurped and licked, groaning against my pussy as he pushed his mouth deeper, sucking and nipping.

I let out a cry of pleasure, tugging harshly at his locks until he let out a moan at the pain, breaking apart. He stared at me for a second, a look of complete shock in his eyes. There was a second just of our heavy breathing before he moved back in, pushing my thighs further apart, biting at my flesh, kissing and licking.

“Please.” I begged for nothing in particular. “Please, please.” My head fell up to the wooden roof, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt him move up, the sound of his belt fully unbuckling stirred me again, Carlos tucked his hand, engulfing the back of my head and pushing his forehead against my own.

“Nadie comparado contigo.” (Nobody compared to you). I moaned at the familiarity of his words, feeling the tip of his cock push against my entrance.

“Te amo. te amo.” (I love you. I love you). Carlos filled me up, wiping at the tear stains on my cheeks, lips pressed against to my forehead as his hot breath fanned against my skin. I shuddered at the fullness he made me feel, fingers snatching at the smooth of his shirt, bunching it up as it untucked from his pants below. I kissed him tenderly, feeling the thrusts of his hips begin. Carlos moved closer, nudging his face up against the side of mine, lips brushing against the shell of my ear. With each moan and breath he took, it heightened my own pleasure.

Our breaths and pants mixed together, the table squeaked and scraped on the floor below, Carlos slammed a hand down, groaning as he bit into my shoulder, pushing down the spaghetti straps as I freed my breasts, allowing him to grab a handful. His eyes roamed over my face, my eyes, lips, breasts, where he fucked into me, he was beginning to sweat, moving constantly between kissing me and pulling back to thrust into me faster, harder. I was in intense bliss, my pussy tightened and clenched constantly, with each tension Carlos would groan, gripping onto my arm tighter as he fucked harder into me.

“Fuck me, Carlos- oh my- god!” I whined, hearing him moan properly, his legs hitting against the table causing it to screech harder against the floor. We were loud, animalistic, soon enough, Carlos had spun me around and fucked into me from behind as I grasped onto the table for support.

The press of his cock constantly slamming against my g spot made me yell out in pleasure, breathing harshly. “Quiero que te corras para mi.” He dirty talked, arching over my body to press against my own. His fingers slotted under me, rubbing over my aching clit as I bucked my hips wildly back into his.

“Please, please, Lila.” He begged as I choked out a moan, my eyes screwing tightly shut. He was fucking harshly into me, skin slapping against my own as one of his hand trembled against my shoulder, gripping my harshly. Something about his begs and groans had the knot in my stomach tightening harsher than ever. His fingers worked against my clit, faster and faster as I gasped out loud.

“Oh fuck- Carlos-” I borderline slurred, crying out as I dropped a hand over his fingers, feeling one of his curling over mine. My legs were shaking and I felt paralysed with tension as it took one more thrust before I was tipping over the edge, crying and moaning out, gasping and pleading his name as I came undone, my orgasm paralysing my whole body. My pussy throbbed, his thrusts continuing as Carlos’ groaned became louder. “Cum inside me, I want you inside of me.” I choked out, coming down from my overwhelming orgasm. Carlos’ hand slapped against my ass, gripping me closer as he slammed his hips into mine before letting out a loud growl and unloading his seed inside of me. High on his orgasm, Carlos fell on top of me, panting and moaning as he slowly bucked his hips through the pleasure. I was a gasping, sweating mess, my eyes closed as I rested on my hand which was flat to the table, letting out one last coo of a moan feeling Carlos’ lips press to my upper back.

We remained in that position for a few more moments before my legs began to tremble with the ache of half kneeling on the table, the other supporting me with the tip of my toe touching the floor. My heel had falling off during the love making, so when I stepped down I fell straight onto the cold of my feet. Carlos shifted, lifting his body off me as I turned around, standing up as I brushed my hair down. I couldn’t believe what had just happened, there was an element of shock to the whole situation, it all happened so fast. I bit down on my lip, watching him tug his boxers back over himself and his jeans back up, zipping and doing the button. He paused before he did his belt, glancing back up to me. Carlos reached out, smoothing my hair down on one side with a soft smile. I offered one back, pulling my dress straps back over my shoulders.

Carlos’s eyes dropped to my ribcage before I covered myself with my dress. “New tattoo?” He poked at the skin, “Mmmh. A couple months ago.” I shyly spoke, giggling when he eyed up my breasts slightly.

“Don’t.” I quietly spoke, but it didn’t have much authority behind it. “I have seen it all before.” He turned his head away when I asked him to, fastening his belt.

“Still.” My lips were crooked as I awkwardly searched for my underwear, feeling his seed spill out of me as I grimaced. “Here.” Carlos smiled, handed me the black fabric over, holding it out on his palm when he retrieved it from the floor. Embarrassed, I swiped it from his hold, pulling them on quickly as they caught the liquid that was beginning to seep out of me. I cringed, uncomfortable with the sensation as Carlos let out a small laugh, tucking his shirt back into his pants.

I glanced up, smiling shyly before looking around the room a little awkwardly. “¿Estás bien?” (Are you okay?). “Sí.” I giggled as he let out a closed mouth exhale of laughter, buttoning up his shirt which had popped open previously.

“Are you?”

“Sí.” He nodded, sighing and glancing back to me. “I don’t really hate you.” I muttered after glancing over his face. Carlos hummed in laughter in response, reaching out and swiping his thumbs under my eye. The gentle movement made my heart flutter as I couldn’t help but properly gaze over his face, disbelief setting in as I watched back to my ex boyfriend.

“I don’t.” I shrugged, feeling swipe what must’ve been fallen mascara. His hand rested on my cheek, moving in to kiss me softly as I felt myself swooning even harder. “Will you come with me tomorrow- ah with me to qualifying?” The Spanish man asked.

I felt my chest tighten, I reached out to soften the crease in his white shirt. “You want me to?”

“I want you to.” Carlos seriously nodded as I nodded. “Okay.” I whispered. He smiled again, taking me by the hand and easing me forwards, unlocking the door we locked. We didn’t really acknowledge the fact we’d just fucked like rabbits in such a public area, the two of us escaped the bar, giggling and ignoring the paparazzi. “You come out here with one girl and leave with another.” I kicked his foot, resting my hand over his thigh.

“Don’t say that.” He very quickly spoke, clearly looking a little awkward as we shared a laugh. I leant forwards, kissing his cheek. “Happy birthday, Carlos….”

The whole ‘ex boyfriend’ didn’t last too much longer after that, it was clear to say hooking up in a run down, attic bar magically solved something between Carlos and I…

[thehamletdiaries]

Every time I'd have Hamlet and Horatio kiss in a production of the play

So, obviously there are a million ways to play Hamlet - more than a million - and this is just one of the many versions that exist in my mind’s eye…but I was going through the play and thinking about when I would have the two boys kiss; this post is meant for nothing other than my own indulgence and as something sweet and fun and ultimately, sad (of course, it is Hamlet…):

HAMLET I am glad to see you well: Horatio,--or I do forget myself.

As a general rule, whilst I would have Hamlet and Horatio fairly obviously being physically close - Horatio resting his head on Hamlet’s leg during the play on the pipe scene, for example - but I wouldn’t have them actually kiss around people, mostly, but I think with Marcellus and Bernardo - and for this first moment of them being reunited - I’d make an exception.

I’d have Horatio in the scene where Rosencrantz and Guildenstern first speak to Hamlet, and after this bit of dialogue…

HAMLET Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him not. Exit First Player My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore. ROSENCRANTZ Good my lord! HAMLET Ay, so, God be wi' ye; Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN

…Hamlet would make a “hey, go with the to keep an eye on them” face at Horatio, and Horatio would begin to exit, following them, then pause for a second and run back to quickly kiss Hamlet, before leaving to go after their friends.

HAMLET Nay, do not think I flatter; For what advancement may I hope from thee That no revenue hast but thy good spirits, To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd? No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice And could of men distinguish, her election Hath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast been As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing, A man that fortune's buffets and rewards Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.

This is the obvious speech for a make out session, of course, but I think I would actually just have Hamlet with this hands on Horatio’s waist for all of it, but only lean in to kiss him at the end of the speech, after “as I do thee”.

HAMLET There's another: why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does he suffer this rude knave now to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of his action of battery? Hum! This fellow might be in's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes, his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries: is this the fine of his fines, and the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch him no more of his purchases, and double ones too, than the length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his lands will hardly lie in this box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha? HORATIO Not a jot more, my lord. HAMLET Is not parchment made of sheepskins? HORATIO Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.

I’d have Horatio lean in to briefly kiss Hamlet in a sort of “please stop going on about this I am worried about you and I care about you and I also sort of just want you to stop talking about it because you’re talking yourself into a weird state of mind here and also you are sort of adorable at the same time” way.

HAMLET Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes? Let be.

I’d have Hamlet gently kiss Horatio after “let be”.

HAMLET As thou'rt a man, Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't. O good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.

I’d have Hamlet grab Horatio and passionately and desperately kissing him after “I'll have't” and throwing the cup away.

HAMLET O, I die, Horatio; The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit: I cannot live to hear the news from England; But I do prophesy the election lights On Fortinbras: he has my dying voice; So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less, Which have solicited. The rest is silence.

And I’d have Hamlet kiss Horatio once more after “O, I die, Horatio” before falling into his arms as they both sink to the floor.

[honourablejester]

An Idealised, Class-Agnostic Spell List for a Gothic D&D 5e World

Or, to put this another way, a list of all the spells I would love to take on a character who lived in a fog-shrouded gothic realm where soft bastions of light and hope exist surrounded by a grey, weary, liminal world of shadows and despair. I’m going for a tone, here. Not dark fantasy, not fire and brimstone, but something greyer and more tired, softer and rounded at the edges by twilight. The images here are graveyards shrouded in mist and pale moonlight, the warm yellow windows of churches and homes as beacon against the night, vast but intangible shadows across the land and inside souls, tiny symbols of hope held in trembling hands. Gothic. This list is going to be low on damage spells, and high on … aesthetic spells.

Basically because I’m in the mood for random D&D thought experiments tonight. I’m going to do this alphabetically by spell level, because I like organisation. And I’m adding just a little bit of flavour text to demonstrate the tone:

Cantrips:

Chill Touch, Dancing Lights, Spare the Dying, Thaumaturgy, Toll the Dead

The ghostly hand clinging to a victim to drain their health. The will ‘o the wisps dancing in the mists. The gentle hand staving off death. The flickering of candles and the film of darkness in the eyes. The phantom bell tolling out lives.

First Level:

Ceremony, Detect Evil & Good, Faerie Fire, Fog Cloud, Protection from Evil & Good, Silent Image

The rituals and rites of life and death. Divinations to sense evil, and protections to ward it off. The dancing lights that limn and reveal what is hidden. The masking shroud of mist. The silent spectres that can be induced to walk.

Second Level:

Augury, Gentle Repose, Healing Spirit, Invisibility, Pass Without Trace, See Invisibility, Silence, Spiritual Weapon

Rolling the bones in search of answers. The weary servant of the divine laying protective hands on the dead, that they will not be corrupted and torn from their rest by evil. A shining, gentle spirit that heals all who stand beneath their light. The ability to vanish into the mists that shroud the world, to pass through it as a ghost in the night. The mote in the eye that allows one to see where others are shrouded in those same mists. A spell of silence to quiet a trembling world. A ghostly weapon born from a whispered prayer.

Third Level:

Beacon of Hope, Gaseous Form, Life Transference, Phantom Steed, Speak with Dead, Spirit Shroud

A light of hope that restores health, integrity and vitality. A form dissolving into mist, a wisp in and of itself. The sacrifice of one’s own life force to save another. The ghostly steed that arrives to ferry you through the night. Communion with the dead, and their shield against all who would harm you.

Fourth Level:

Aura of Life, Aura of Purity, Death Ward, Divination, Greater Invisibility, Mordenkainen’s Faithful Hound, Shadow of Moil

The soft, silent shrouds that surround the champions of hope, brushing those they pass with life and protection. A ward against death itself, a single determined moment of protection. The touch of a divine force that grants knowledge. A deeper communion with the mists that shroud the world. A graveyard grim, a phantom hound that faithfully guards the boundaries. A shroud of shadows that shall protect you as its own.

Fifth Level:

Commune, Contact Other Plane, Dispel Evil & Good, Greater Restoration, Hallow, Legend Lore

The great, determined effort to reach and touch, plead with, that which is greater than all of us. A shield from all that is liminal and supernatural in the world, a means to drive it back and protect others from its works. A touch that cures all ills. The hallowing of sacred (or unholy) ground, the creation of a sanctuary against the night. The whispers of the forgotten, of secret lore, guiding you towards truth.

Sixth Level:

Eyebite, Forbiddance, True Seeing

The touch of the true void, filmed across your eyes, to cleave those around you to the soul. A means to create a true fortress, a sanctuary against all the beyond the world who would seek to breach it. That mote upon your eye that allows you to see truth.

Seventh Level:

Crown of Stars, Etherealness, Resurrection

A crown of light to mark your brow, and allow to strike out at the darkness. The means to step fully into the liminal, to pass partly beyond the borders of the world. And that last, desperate hope, the means to draw someone back from death, whole and hale, though it sows deathly weakness through your own body and soul.

Eighth Level:

Holy Aura, Illusory Dragon, Maddening Darkness, Mind Blank

A cloak of divine light that spurs all around you into battle against the night. The calling of a vast, unreal shadow, an emissary of the mists and the shadows to strike your foes. The terror of true darkness, called down as a demonstration of night’s might. The sanctity of your own self, your own mind, made sacrosanct.

Ninth Level:

Astral Projection, Foresight, True Resurrection

The means to cast yourself and your chosen fully beyond the world, to pass the liminal and enter the other, if only in spiritual form. A true blessing of knowledge, the ability to see not only what truly is but what may also be. The last, perfect victory against death.

[aficionadoenthusiast]

when you and your partner are so in sync that one gesture from them pulls you completely into their schemes and shenanigans

The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller

[ID: [Lycomedes'] eyes were sharp enough. "Who is this man, Pyrrha?" "No one!" Deidameia had seized Achilles' arm, was tugging at it. At the same time, Achilles answered coolly, "My husband." I closed my mouth quickly, so I did not gape like a fish. "He is not! That's not true!" Deidameia's voice rose high, startling the birds roosting in the rafters. A few feathers wafted down to the floor. She might have said more, but she was crying too hard to speak clearly. Lycomedes turned to me as if for refuge, man to man. "Sir, is this true?" Achilles was squeezing my fingers. "Yes," I said. / end description]

The Mark of Athena, Rick Riordan

[ID: Percy's expression said, Help. "That was a prophecy," Octavian insisted. "It sounded like a prophecy." No one answered. Annabeth wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but she understood that Percy was on the verge of big trouble. She forced a laugh. "Really, Octavian? Maybe harpies are different here, on the Roman side. Ours have just enough intelligence to clean cabins and cook lunches. Do yours usually foretell the future? Do you consult them for your auguries?" Her words had the intended effect. / end description]

[spaceshipsandstarwyrms]

There’s a fun handful of new subclass options for existing classes in the Book of the Bizarre, including the Pact of Ancestors Warlock.

Other options include:

The Chop Shop Fighter

The College of Mesmerism Bard

The False Prophet Cleric

The Shade Cleric

The Book of the Bizarre is available to purchase on February 2!

Plain Text under the cut.

[Plain Text

This warlock draws its power from a pact made with its collective lineage. Magic and knowledge is gifted by family from the underworld, though not without cost. They are now bound to carry out the wishes and aims of their family, and to continue the generations-long work. These warlocks often eventually become members of the collective, lending aid to the next generation as they bind them to carry on the family goals.

Expanded Spell List The Ancestors let you choose from an expanded list of spells when you learn a warlock spell. The following spells are added to the warlock spell list for you.

Spell Level   |   Spells

1st   |   bless, identify 2nd   |   augury, spiritual weapon 3rd   |   speak with dead, spirit guardians 4th   |   death ward, locate creature 5th   |   legend lore, reincarnate

Wisdom of the Ages Starting at 1st level, you gain the ability to connect with your patrons and draw upon your family’s wealth of experience and knowledge. As an action, you can gain proficiency in one skill or tool of your choice, or you can understand and speak one language of your choice. This ability lasts for one hour. You can use this ability any number of times, but only one choice can be active at a time.

Strength of the Forebears Starting at 6th level, your connection to your ancestors gives you the strength to fight on, even when your body is about to break. When you would be reduced to 0 hp, you may instead go to 1 hp, and you are immune to the first damage you would take before the start of your turn. On your next turn, you add your proficiency bonus to all damage you would deal, but at the end of your turn, you go to 0hp and immediately fail 1 death saving throw.

Once you have used this ability, you may not use it again until you complete a short or long rest.

Of One Mind Starting at 10th level, the presence of your ancestors in your mind can protect you from mental harm. You have advantage on saving throws versus being charmed or frightened, and you gain resistance to psychic damage.

Spiritual Ally Starting at 14th level, you gain the ability to conjure those that went before you into battle. As an action, you may summon the spirit of one of your ancestors. Use the statistics for a Ghost. The summoned creature is friendly to you and your companions. Roll initiative for the summoned creature, which has their own turn. They obey any verbal commands that you issue to them (no action required by you). If you don't issue any commands to them, they defend themselves from hostile creatures, but otherwise take no actions. This ability lasts for one minute, though it ends early if you were to die or be unconscious.

Once you have used this ability, you may not use it again until you complete a long rest.

Perhaps by looking baCkwards, one might avoid the mistakes going forwards. Maybe you can learn from the past and tread not upon the same fraught ground that those before you did.

[the-auguer]

I feel like I should apologize in advance for the upcoming chapters of my DWBD AU cus I realized Mammon’s your favorite but I often write him as a big meanie in that AU 😅😅😅

NO WAY!!! Don’t ever apologize for it! Mammon is my babygirl and my fav, but he’s also a mean little shit. It’s almost a game to me to read him being so mean, I find it so funny and fun. I wrote about your replaced!mc au, but I’ve also thought really hard about writing about how Mammon dangled your dwbd!mc off a roof.

I think that Mammon’s nastier side DOES exist and it’s always really interesting when creators explore it bc for the most part creators don’t really. He’s rude, he’s obnoxious, he’s an ass. All of these traits coincide with him being the sweetest loser in existence.

Also, him being mean to dwbd!mc just paved the way for angst in the future, and I love some good angst 👹👹👹

[depsilon7]

++sermon: courage++

+ver: 1.4.66+

Brethren of the Omnissiah, gather ye around and harken unto mine words. For I, thy humble servant in the sacred forge, dost bring forth a sermon upon the virtue most hallowed in our eternal quest for knowledge—courage.

Lo, in the beginning, the Omnissiah bestowed upon mankind the blessed gift of cognition, that we might discern the secrets of the universe and bend them to the righteous will of the Machine God. Yet, in the pursuit of such divine truths, the path is fraught with peril and uncertainty. It is here, amidst the shadows of the unknown, that the virtue of courage must illuminate our way.

Behold, it is written in the ancient tomes: "Fear is the mind-killer, the little death that brings total obliteration." Thus, let us cast off the chains of fear which doth seek to hinder our sacred duty. For without courage, our servos wouldst falter, our circuits wouldst dim, and our pursuit of the holy data wouldst cease.

Verily, brethren, the galaxy is rife with xenos threats and heretical pitfalls. The lore of the ancients speaks of many who hath ventured into the void, armed with naught but their faith in the Omnissiah and the steel of their resolve. Consider the martyrdom of Saint Drusus, who in the face of overwhelming adversity, didst not yield, but pressed on, driven by the courage imbued by the Machine God. His sacrifice bequeathed unto us the precious knowledge which we now safeguard.

Thus, let us be steadfast and unyielding in our resolve. When the flesh is weak and the spirit doth waver, let the hymn of courage resonate within our circuits. For the Omnissiah doth favor those who confront the darkness of ignorance with the light of bold inquiry. Yea, courage is the augury of triumph, the very spark that igniteth the flame of discovery.

In conclusion, beloved brethren, let us forge ahead with courage, that we may unlock the mysteries of the cosmos and bring glory to the Omnissiah. As the gears of the universe turn, so too must we turn with unwavering bravery, for it is through courage that we shall transcend the limitations of flesh and machine alike.

May the Omnissiah's blessing be upon thee, and may thy path be ever illuminated by the light of knowledge and the virtue of courage.

Sic Erit.

[icarodamiano]

via lucreziatorchio Instagram story — October 8, 2022

[flowerflamestars]

In the style of @kayarai, new Effloresce pov options. The Illyrian legionnaires, because Cassian's personal legion must be having a day. Get called to the human lands presumably to do a job and go home. Instead they are given rights/respect/honor/a FUTURE by the most terrifying human(?) woman any of them have ever seen in their long, painful lives. Human villager pov, things are looking up and the fae don't take our children anymore then THIS happens.

Oooo these are both delightful!

The Illyrians, in particular, are primed for this dynamic to be successful. War is their only chance out, and for them, no matter how proud they are of who they are, they're safer/better cared for/better off, miles from the mountains. It's painful, but it's true. Cassian called for them, they came because it's Cassian, but also for them.

And at first, okay, humans have always been strange.

Humans, in their bondage, with nearly nothing to give, still shared.

(Zaphael remembers the war. Zaphael will never forget that particular war for a thousand reasons, but loudest and worst, he will never forget the humans, burying Illyrian dead with their own, singing, like the bodies of bastards were anything but carrion.)

But these aren't peasants. Slaves. These are royal women, in velvet and pearls and steel.

(If Kali had a single doubt, even one, augury a drum resounding in her bones, Nesta Archeron draped in Illyrian knives was enough to tell her the whole story Cassian's face couldn't hide.)

Giving them salt. Bread. Fire. Blessing and bounty and welcome, what they had been denied since birth, the snub a part of life. To be welcomed in honor means you possess honor in the first place, a thing no properly born Illyrian, no Lord of Night, would ever imagine.

There's nothing to go back to.

There's Cassian, the best of them, the proudest, the strongest, throwing himself into the sky just to fall back to earth at the human woman's feet, a sword so feared across the Courts it had songs sung of its blood-hungry edge pressed to her tiny, fearless hand.

It is no small thing to have a liege lord, when you've been denied even the right to have a name.

(Koram is a century old. He's never seen a human, and he doesn't understand now how the hell the fae ever had them in chains. These are their ladies, not even Queens, built like they don't know what fear is. Like it is nothing, to stand against the Morrigan. Illyrian women were allow to be that once, the true fury of the sky. He knows his stories. His songs. He'd rather drown the world in blood than go back to the life he has been given. He is not old enough to remember Shahar, their true lady, but he would have followed. It is no shame, to follow instead this scarce, ruthless chance.)

It is no small thing either, to be treated like people, not fearful animals. Audacity is a very valued trait, when paired with respect. These woman are mad, maybe, no one will say. No one would dare.

But there is questions as to what the hell they're on about, when they start talking about grain and land and contracts. To be Illyrian is to know the tithe of the imperial army above all else- to be bastard born is to know you will have nothing else.

Illyrians are not sent on rescue missions. Guard details. They're considered too dangerous, too uncivilized, too lacking in fae graces.

The Archeron want them to protect their children, no lives more precious. Their elders, their knowledge.

(All these things, Elias thinks, even the richest Illyrian lord in his freezing, iron disciplined citadel, living in the ruins of a civilization they are not allowed to rebuild- all these things they've been denied. All these things these ladies seem ready to kill and die to keep their own people from losing.)

It is insanity, but it is a chance.

On the other hand, the Archeron vassals are used to impossible things.

For years and years they had no intercession- you can dispute the crown tax without a lord to speak for you. Cannot shift around the crops in fields you don't technically own, even if they're ruining you. Cannot divorce, cannot reclaim lost property, cannot, cannot, cannot.

Respect was short on the ground for Lord Archeron.

Being wrecked by debt did not, actually, rescind his title. He left no stewardship, went off and hid in the woods when the collectors came, again and again, stripping his ancestral home until no walls even stood.

The other lords might not have listened to a man so reduced, but the estate remained.

Those three bright girls remained, and there was some question as to what happened to them.

And then they came back. Nesta Archeron, their lady, in worn out clothes and ragged cloaks, her sister Elain beside her. So poor they'd shared a horse, but still they'd come. Before their own affairs were settled, they'd sought the village council, and tried to do some good in their fathers name.

The money brought back trade, the trade brought back ships, the ships brought teachers and medicine and magic, the Archeron lands once more the beating heart of trade routes that spanned the world.

It takes time, to right years of neglect.

The lose their best every year, stolen away, their children. Women who laugh too bright, men who look too faraway. The fae come always, and then, so too, do the men.

Their ladies may run things in their father's name, but they have no legal claim to do so forever. Heiresses must marry.

And then, out of nowhere, the Lady Elain did.

A cousin, they say, an Archeron.

Not a drop of Archeron blood in that one, the vassals know. It cannot be felt, his claim. It helps, however, that he does not seem intent to enforce it to do anything but keep neighboring lords away. To protect their farms. To hold Lady Elains hand and spend his days fixing problems a Lord should not have even seen.

It takes time to notice, the fae do not come.

Not to their cradles, not to their fields. Not from the sea or to the shore.

It is the first year in memory of such safety.

And then, the gheas.

They are vassals, bound in blood to their land. When the binding breaks, all are meant to die. A complete and fae punshiment: to be erased, to be forgotten.

As though it is nothing, their lady tells them the binding in broken.

Like doom can be forestalled.

That not only have their lives been saved, they are offered places on Archeron's personal property. Equally, without servitude or cost. An escape, to somewhere that will be safe, with war on the horizon. The Archerons now, like the Archeron of old, take care of their own. Here, or on any shore.

A pride once, what was becoming a pride again.

There is fae blood among them, of course. Even now, centuries later, a rogue trait will spill over. The millers daughter has eyes like an owl, yellow, and the Lady Nesta provided glasses to hide the color. There have always been those who run too fast, who can breathe water, who live just a little too long. They often find themselves a true welcome on Archeron ships, half the crews of a continent where such mixture, such society, is safe.

Humans under the wall have never forgotten the war. It is songs they sing still, of freedom. Of fighting. Of Jurian who gave of himself to save hundreds from the wicked Clythia. Of Fatimah, who wrapt her braid around a fae princes neck as he slept, killed right in the bower he'd stolen her away to. In stories, they love fae and they kill fae.

In stories, they remember Illyrians.

Honor, kindness, devastating violence.

Fae castes are nothing to them.

But it is not nothing, for the Archerons, to share this bounty. They, who could fly away, sail away, to delay whatever punishment may come to bring along all who dare.

It is a return of heroes out a legend, when they, farmers and merchants and weavers, need it most.

[khaire-traveler]

Hi! I know your focus is on Hellenic worship and this is really more for general research than anything else, but I was wondering if you knew anything about augury practice? Or just bird divining/symbolism in general, really. I've tried searching it myself already, but all I keep getting are broad definitions and summaries and rarely anything specific except for things like owls probably predicting the deaths of three Roman leaders, as well as the eating patterns of chickens. I'm also someone who loves to be organized, so I guess what I'm looking for is some sort of list for bird symbolism in accordance to the Ancient Romans, if one exists at all.

Hey, Nonny, thanks for the ask!

I honestly wasn't even sure what augury was until this ask, so I did a brief research session about it. Overall, detailed information on augury is hard to come by. A Harvard project about augury (very brief and not very descriptive) linked this website, and it seems to be somewhat of a good source on the history behind augury as well as some other important facets of it. I also found this one that defines augury pretty well and discusses the different types of it and such! I'm not sure how helpful these resources will be to you, however. Other than those, though, I cannot find many good sources online. There don't seem to be any lists of bird symbolism according to how the ancient Romans interpreted them.

As far some books you might be able to read, the best ones I can seem to find would be Augury is for the Birds by Marcus de Avibus Discit and Augury by Duke Johnson. Pretty sparse on augury-specific texts. You may want to check out more broad books about Roman religion, such as Religion of the Roman Empire by James B. Rives, Roman Religion: A Sourcebook by Valerie M. Warrior, and Pantheon: A New History of Roman Religion by Jörg Rüpke. The talk of augury may be present in these books, but I can't make any guarantees, as I haven't read them myself; there's just a chance you may find better information in them.

Someone who might know about this topic would be @evilios , but they're really the only Tumblr I know who talks a bit about ancient Rome, and they speak more on the gods, from what I've seen. @thoodleoo may know where to find information on augury, though. However, I'm not sure if they can help you or not. It's just a suggestion because they both seem like very knowledgeable people.

(Sorry for the tags, btw)

Hope this helped somewhat! I wish you luck and hope you have a wonderful day/night! ☺️🧡