#book celebrity

[lesbxdyke]

I could think of no better way to share the news than this!

So when I was 17, my cat went missing and I'd given up hope of ever seeing him again.

Until on Monday, 27th of May, 2024, my friend sent me a FB post asking 'isn't that your mother?' about the person named on the microchip.

Here he is! 16 years old, and found safe, twelve whole years after he went missing!

Yesterday (Tuesday the 28th of May, 2024) I went to the rescue that had him, and I reclaimed my boy, renaming him Artie! (He'd originally been called 'Cat' because my mother and I couldn't decide on a name)

He's home safe with me now, currently inhabiting my bathroom and purring up a storm every time someone goes in there!

I'll be doing slow introductions between him and my current cat to give them the best possible chance of living in harmony!

Here's some pictures of Artie once we let him out of the carrier:

[illusionistsumitkharbanda]

AI helps corporate entertainers make their shows just right for each event. It looks at details about the audience, like their interests and past feedback. With this info, entertainers can choose the best music, jokes, or acts to fit the crowd. This makes the show more interesting and fun for everyone. AI also helps by suggesting ideas that match the audience’s tastes.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Happy 10th anniversary to FNAF!!

[mahrahpalestine]

My account and the accounts of a group of my friends who organize donation campaigns to help their families have been blocked for no known reason

It is clear that the Tumblr platform is against the Palestinians’ livelihood and achieving a better future

Everyone is against the Palestinians from living

But despite this, we will try to live and achieve a better future

@freepaleatine95

@nabulsi @ibtisams @tododeku-or-bust @turian

@paper-mario-wiki @sar-soor @determinate-negation @determinate-negation @sayruq @90-ghost @dykesbat shared

@asexualfromhell @paper-mario-wiki

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[bmorefashionnerd]

Tracee Ellis Ross

[kathaynesart]

REPLICA PLAYLIST

MUSIC UNDER CUT

I have been receiving requests for any songs that inspired Replica, so here, have my personal playlist. Sorry it’s not Spotify/Soundcloud but they don’t have some of these songs available so uh… guess you’re stuck with YouTube vids. For fun I'll include my personal titles for them (which might give a few hints of what to expect in the future/end).

Replica Main Theme - “Die for You” by Grabbitz Like Father Like Son Like Brother (Omega and Shelldon) - "As Above So Below" by Alistair Lindsay Mikey's Theme / The 1st Vision - "Suzume no Tojimari" by Nanoka Hara Military (Mad) Dogs / Central Park Colony - "Imperium" by Madeon Shanghai - "Icarus" by Madeon Boom Goes the Donnie-mite (Mikey/Donnie vs the Sweeper) - "The Red Zone" by Mitsuoto Suzuki The Day the Sky Bled Red - "7 Seconds Till the End" by Nobuo Uematsu Going Out Like a Boss (Raph and Leo) - "Agape" by Nicholas Britell Remembering the Right Way (Mikey and Leo) - "The Souls of Many" - by Alistair Lindsay Mystic Hands / The 2nd Vision - "Am I Dreaming" by Metro Boomin x A$AP Book 2 Trailer - "Sea Dragon" by Covet 7 Years Later - "Iron" by Woodkid Leo's Theme / Attack on the Labor Camp - "Ego Death" by Polyphia Omega's Theme - "Touch" by Daft Punk Flat Lines (Omega Alone) - "Die Toteninsel Emptiness" by 1000 Eyes Spear - "Monsters" by Tommee Profitt Final Protocol - "The Kraken" by Katie Dey Rise / Epilogue - "Close in the Distance" by Masayoshi Soken & Tom Mills

I will admit, it's a little embarrassing since you can easily see the patterns of what I've been listening to for the past year or two. I swear I listen to more than just videogame OSTs, these songs just jive well with the story and I often find lyrics distracting when brainstorming scenes. Regardless, the music I listen to is such an important part of my creative process and some of these songs really defined the scenes I now have locked in my head. So I figured it was only fair to give them the credit they're due.

I will continue to add to this playlist, and will note in comic updates when one of these songs is applicable!

[melancholypolywog]

bill ruins thanksgiving

[nicolloyd]

oh how thou tables have turneth

thank you wrath of the triple goddess for bringing me carefree annabeth and stressed out percy.

[escritos-perdidos]

[saebeans13]

MY SHAYLAAA

[leona-hawthorne]

hiya! congrats on 1k! i’ve been in and around your blog for a while and thought it was time to send my first ask. May I get a book browsing? Mattheo Riddle with a cinderella moment and "Fuck you" "Love you too"

this is so cute! thank you for requesting 🤍🫂

1k celebration navigation

UNFORGETTABLE… book browsing

ミ★ MATTHEO RIDDLE

The Great Hall gleamed, a sea of enchantment under the soft glow of floating candles and glittering stars. You hated to admit it, but the Yule Ball looked almost perfect tonight. Almost.

Your dress was stunning—flowing fabric that caught the light like moonbeams, the soft clink of subtle jewelry as you moved—but it felt wasted. Your date, some Ravenclaw whose name you didn’t care to think about, had failed to show, leaving you stranded by the punch table, clutching a glass like it was your last hope for dignity.

Mattheo Riddle, of course, had noticed.

He always noticed, though whether it was to irritate or intrigue you depended entirely on his mood. Tonight, his dark gaze trailed you across the room, unreadable behind the mask of indifference he wore so well. But behind the mask, he was stunned at your beauty tonight. Well, you’d always been beautiful—he couldn’t deny that—but it was different tonight.

“Trouble in paradise?” his voice cut through the hum of music and chatter, low and smooth, as he sidled up to you. That mask of indifference—it was impenetrable, even if his heart was racing at the way your side profile looked in this light, with your hair all done up and pulled back over your bare shoulders.

You didn’t look at him. “Go away, Riddle.”

“That’s no way to speak to your knight in shining armor.”

You scoffed, finally turning to face him. It was weird—you could’ve sworn his eyes held a sparkle of warmth. “You’re the farthest thing from that.”

“And yet,” he smirked, leaning casually against the table, “here I am. Let me guess—your date’s a no-show, and now you’re thinking of leaving before anyone notices.”

Your jaw tightened, heat rising to your cheeks. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but you’d rather hex yourself than admit it. “What do you want?”

“To dance,” he said simply, like it wasn’t the most absurd thing in the world.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He straightened, offering a hand with the kind of confidence that bordered on infuriating. “Come on, princess. You can’t let that dress go to waste.”

You stared at his outstretched hand, skepticism warring with the ache in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to spend the night alone, but accepting help from Mattheo Riddle? That felt like surrender.

“I don’t need your pity, Mattheo,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

“Who said anything about pity?” His lips curled into a smirk. “Maybe I just want the best-dressed girl here to make me look good for a change.”

Your scoff was automatic, but a flicker of curiosity sparked in your chest. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet,” he quipped, stepping closer, “you haven’t walked away.”

You hated that he was right. Maybe it was the warmth in his eyes, just faint enough to convince yourself it wasn’t real. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d noticed you at all, standing there alone in the middle of a crowd. Whatever it was, it made your fingers twitch toward his hand before you could stop yourself.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” you said, letting him take your hand.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied smoothly, leading you toward the dance floor.

The music swelled as you reached the center of the room. Other couples turned and swayed in perfect rhythm, their laughter and whispered words mixing with the melody. You felt the weight of their eyes as Mattheo placed a hand on your waist, his touch firm but not unwelcome.

“You’re tense,” he murmured, guiding you into the first steps of the waltz.

“Maybe that’s because I’m dancing with someone I can’t stand,” you shot back, though your voice lacked the venom you intended.

“Harsh,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You wound me.”

“You’ll live.”

But as the music carried you both, something shifted. His movements were surprisingly graceful, his confidence steady without being overbearing. For a boy who usually thrived on chaos, Mattheo Riddle was unexpectedly good at this. And worse, you found yourself relaxing—letting him lead, letting the music fill the silence between you.

“You clean up well, you know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

You couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he echoed, his hand tightening slightly on your waist, “you’re still here.”

The night blurred into a strange kind of magic you hadn’t expected. Mattheo danced with a confidence that kept you steady, his hand firm against your back as he led you through each step. By the time the music ended, you weren’t sure whether to feel grateful or annoyed by how natural it had all seemed.

As he walked you back to your dorm, the castle was quiet, the distant echoes of the Yule Ball fading with every step. The tension between you was different now—softer, almost curious—but Mattheo, of course, couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“You know,” he drawled, breaking the silence, “you could’ve just asked me to the Ball in the first place. Would’ve saved you the trouble.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to glare at him. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged, his smirk infuriatingly intact. “I’m just saying, if I’d known you’d clean up like this, I might’ve asked you myself.”

The warmth in your chest vanished, replaced by the familiar sting of irritation. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, resuming your pace.

“Unbelievably charming,” he corrected, keeping stride with you. “Come on, admit it—I made your night.”

“You’re delusional,” you shot back, though your cheeks betrayed you with their lingering heat.

By the time you reached the entrance to your dorm, you were ready to leave him and his insufferable grin behind. Turning to face him, you folded your arms, fixing him with your best glare.

“Well, thanks for the dance,” you said flatly. “Now you can go back to being your usual, annoying self.”

He tilted his head, studying you with that maddeningly unreadable expression. “That’s the plan,” he said easily, but something flickered in his eyes—something that made your stomach flip.

“Good,” you replied, turning toward the door.

But as you reached for the handle, he spoke again, his tone laced with the perfect amount of cocky amusement.

“By the way, you should’ve let me kiss you on the dance floor. It would’ve made your night unforgettable.”

You froze, your hand gripping the doorknob as your head snapped back toward him. His smirk deepened at the look on your face, and you could practically feel your blood boiling.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, slamming the door shut before he could respond.

From the other side, his voice came, warm and unbothered, echoing softly through the stone.

“Love you too.”

You stared at the closed door, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried—and failed—not to think about the way he’d said it, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he meant it.

And, worst of all, you couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto your lips.

[illusionistsumitkharbanda]

This means they might also follow your brand and engage with it. They might like, share, or comment on your posts. The artist’s fans can help spread the word about your brand. This leads to more interaction and connection with potential customers. It always advised that people should always book celebrity artist in India who has more popularity.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Shout out to FNAF phone guy finally getting a name!

[mahrahpalestine]

"One Year After the Al-Aqsa Flood: Revolution Until Victory"

@ibtisams @paper-mario-wiki @turian @butchniqabi @buttercuparry @anneemay