#i have so many questions about this movie

[sillylotrpolls]

I'm both unsurprised and surprised at the winner here. Unsuprised because of course "never read the Silm" was always going to win. However, I am surprised it only got as high as 32.5%. If you extrapolated that data without regard to the self-selection bias inherent to silly tumblr LotR polls, it would mean that in a group of 100 people, 68 would be able to correctly identify at least three times Fëanor looked hubris in the eye and said "bet."

Interestingly, in a previous poll about why people haven't read the Silmarillion, "I've read it" got 30.4%. This suggests that there is a certain number of people who will skip voting in any poll that doesn't apply to them even if given an explicit button to click. However, it also suggests that it's still a good idea to have that button, because in each poll that option got over 1,000 votes.

In second place (and therefore first place for people who did/will read the Silm) is "I liked the movies" (16.7%). This makes perfect sense; LotR fandom exploded in 2001 when we all first got a look at Elijah Wood's baby blue eyes. Right behind it, however, is "I enjoy reading mythology and histories" with 15.4%. And you know what? This is probably the best reason to read the Silm; you've got all the context for why it's written in the way it is and can appreciate both Tolkien's references and where he was truly original. I salute you, myth-lovers.

Then, in fourth ("third") is probably the highest placing yet for the "other" option (14.8%). And unlike every other poll where I include "other," this time y'all really did go into detail in the notes. <3 Related question: why were so many of you 11 when you first tried to read Tolkien?

A few other miscellaneous observations:

Some of you really, really want to be clear that you read the books BEFORE you saw the movies.

Although there were a lot of stories about how y'all first encountered the Sillmarillion and took it into your hearts, most of you preferred to use a dozen+ tags to tell the story instead of writing a comment. As a LiveJournal veteran, this preference continues to puzzle me.

Apparently "Found it at the library..." was confusing. This option was meant to imply "I read the Silm first, you mean there's a sequel called Lord of the Rings all about Mairon/Sauron?!" but I had trouble with the 80-character limit.

"Fanart appreciation" (4.4%) beat out "bullied by friends" (1.6%) almost 3:1, illustrating that it's easier to motivate people with treats than shame.

No one ever gets the lion joke. :(

[genericpuff]

Dyou ever feel disappointed (?) that there aren't more eyes on LR? I know you keep it on the DL to avoid Rachel's wrath but I 100% know the only reason it's not more popular is that not enough people know about it. You put in a lot of work that we all really love but I know the notes count could be higher. Is this something you care about? We can try to spread it more if so, but going back to the Rachel/not intruding on LO spaces point...

Ouu so that's a good question, but honestly... nah, not really. And I'm not even saying that to be "humble" or whatever, it's literally just... what y'all are seeing in Rekindled is, to me, a step away from my usual patterns and habits that I've been dealing with for years now. It's forced me out of my comfort zones, but most importantly, it's got me creating purely for the fun of it, for the self-indulgence, without any of the usual pressures I've forced upon myself in the past for the work I do to "mean something" or for it to "be successful". It's not just the tip of a massive iceberg, it's practically a whole ass detour. Rekindled is like one of those road trip movies where the reluctant stickler gets strung along by the aloof weirdos, driven off the beaten path, and winds up realizing by the end of the crazy journey that it was worth taking the long way home.

That's not to say making Rekindled doesn't come with its own unique pressures or that I don't take it seriously, but they're different from the pressures I've dealt with in the past and the nature of Rekindled being what it is means... I don't have to take it as seriously as the car crash that was my original work prior to it? 💀😆 (which I already took way more seriously than what was healthy for me, in hindsight). Like I can take it seriously as a creative project that I wanna see through, especially where it's meant to "fix" stuff that felt misguided / done poorly in LO, but because it's effectively fanfiction, I can separate it from the expectations that came from my original work. It can never pay my bills, so I don't have to worry about it doing so. It shouldn't be the only thing I'm ever known for, so I don't need it to amount to my legacy.

A good example of what I mean are what you brought up - the notes count. Thing is, compared to social media platforms like Instagram and Facebook and even Youtube, posting exclusively to Tumblr over the past couple years has been great for my mental health. Unlike those other platforms, my follower count isn't on full display to both myself and others. There's no real bearing on notes beyond clout, and that clout only exists within Tumblr - going "viral" on this hellsite doesn't amount to the same things as going viral on a platform like Twitter, for the most part my work still stays within its respective audience where it's meant to be and even if I do have an episode "take off" in notes... it doesn't really matter? Like to me there's virtually no difference between a post that has 300 notes and a post that has 30,000 notes. And I actually do have a couple posts that have "taken off" like that. It's neat but it's also like... okay, life goes on. Except now I'm gonna keep getting notifications about that one post forever LMAO

Granted, it would be different if the posts were actually intended to get as many eyes on it as possible - like if they were posts meant to generate income in some way through advertising Patreon, Ko-Fi, merch shops, etc. - but it's rare that I ever do that because obviously with Rekindled being what it is, I can't really profit off it anyways.

And that's okay! I've spent enough years worrying over the online "gains" and bearing the weight of my work's responsibility to my livelihood on my shoulders.

Rekindled is fun. Even when it's stressful, when an episode goes up late or when I'm still finding myself procrastinating, it's fun. It's neat that it now has a TV Tropes page and that there are some Youtubers who talk about it every now and then, but... the novelty of those things comes paired with the pressure and fear of knowing my work is being perceived outside of my own scope. Sure, that's just what happens when you share your work online, but even I , in all of the hubris I had to have to create Rekindled in the first place, can't pretend like I'm infallible to that sort of thing. Every time a Youtuber talks about it, every time there's a thread in /r/webtoons about it, every time someone besides myself uses the #lore rekindled tags, I have to live with the small but real consequences of doing what I do - the anons taking it upon themselves to judge me in my own inbox, the Youtube commenters forming their own opinions based on what they assume are my intentions (even when those assumptions are often false), the redditors arguing back and forth over the virtue of transformative rewrites.

It's a small price to pay, for everything that I do here. I can't very well sit here on my pedestal talking shit about something like LO without taking some of that shit in return regarding my own work. It's only natural people will have misinformed opinions about what I do, or will take it upon themselves to dissect and debate and discuss my work regardless of whether they even like the work or not. I try to take it as proactively as I can, that it's a metric of success in and of itself - what I'm making has made people feel something, for some joy, and for others, frustration. The art has done everything it could ever do, for better and for worse - it's made people feel and think and talk. Most of all, it's made me feel and think and talk, and create, and experiment, and fail, and succeed in ways I never thought myself capable before. It's more than I ever expected - and all I really needed to come out of all this.

----------

All that aside, it's not like Rekindled isn't already doing a lot in the way of "expanding my reach", so to speak. Though it is just Tumblr, I've gotten to meet so many amazing readers and writers and artists through this project, and that's at the heart of why I make comics at all. I'm not joking or exaggerating when I say that Rekindled literally couldn't be what it is without the community that surrounds it. And that's a community that I'm hoping will still be interested in hanging with lil' old me even after Rekindled is over.

Rekindled isn't my first rodeo and it certainly won't be my last. In fact, I'm currently (finally) overcoming some of the burnout that's been persisting over the past couple years with my original project, and I'm breaking down walls I literally couldn't have broken down before. I hadn't realized I had been suffocating, and Rekindled wound up being that breath of fresh air that I needed to live again.

It's gonna take time, and there's still a lot of healing happening on my end, but I'm making plans again for what I really wanna do esp for when Rekindled is over, and it's exciting, and scary, and most of all, hopeful.

So all that's to say, if you (anon) or you (everyone else) are really interested in "boosting" my work and getting more eyes on it... well, I suppose I better start sharing more of it outside of just Rekindled, shouldn't I? I hope that when I do, it's welcomed as eagerly as you all welcomed Rekindled. It'll be quite different, and likely won't be everyone's cup of tea, but I hope all the work I've done on Rekindled so far - and what we still have left to accomplish in the future - proves what I'm capable of and allows for the opportunity to really connect with my work, wholly me. Y'all took a chance on me when I first started posting those lil' glow edits and the first scrappy sketches of Rekindled back in the day, so I hope when the time comes, y'all can take that chance on me again <3

And hey, here's a fun fact for you to close out this long response - though it might not be a major platform, judging by the metrics I can see on the surface from other comics alongside it, I'm pretty sure Rekindled is carrying like 90% of the current traffic numbers on Dillyhub LMAO Like seriously, the next highest liked / subbed comic I could find on there didn't even amount to a third of the amount of likes and subs I have on there just through Rekindled. It's actually hilarious, but also kinda sad, because damn... the devs really have abandoned that place. So it's not exactly all that impressive. But that's pretty much exactly why I chose it as a mirror in the first place - I sure as shit wasn't gonna test my luck posting it to Webtoons or Tapas, and the only reason I even wanted a mirror site in the first place was to give non-Tumblr users a place to read it (without being badgered to make an account and without having to sift through all my rants and essays LMAO) so Dillyhub just kinda made sense as a place that was functional enough to host it but not big enough to draw any unwanted attention. Sooo I guess what I'm saying is, you're welcome Dillyhub?? 😆

[boxturret]

Bionicle 2: Mysteries of Metru Nui

There are many, many parts of B2 that don't really stand up to scrutiny, but one of the most odd was Vakama's reaction to one of his earlier visions. Its at 14 minutes in if this video also at some point gets scrubbed from the internet in the ongoing censorship campaign.

UPDATE: The youtube upload of TLOMN that was referenced here has seemingly been removed since this post was written.

Vakama says that "[He] saw it, Metru-Nui was destroyed!" but even as a child I was confused by this statement, as the images shown in the vison the city looked fine, just a bit....purple.

There have long been rumors that this was a hasty, last minute edit, that originally the destruction was more explicitly depicted.

Someone that claims to have in their possession the movie contacted me recently about their experience trying to release it.

I don't know how I got my hands on the DVD, its just been something I had around all my childhood. I don't know if someone my family knew were affiliated with Bionicle, or Creative Capers, if I had known I would have bragged about it constantly LOL. So for my childhood this WAS Legends of Metru Nui for me, it wasn't until adulthood, and me getting back in to the Bionicle fan communities during COVID that I came across the version uploaded youtube and Biomedia Project. [...] So when I had the chance to go back to my parents a few months later I was able to dig out the old DVD I watched back then and ripped it. So as a joke, last BIO Day I thought I'd upload the movie in full to see if anyone would notice the change. [...] Then a few months ago I get an email from youtube that the video was copyright claimed by Lego and it had been taken down, I was really shocked.

He was kind enough to send me a copy of the email, and its genuine.

His youtube account was heavily penalised, and as the account has a lot of important things uploaded to it he didn't wish to risk it by trying again.

He sent me a phone video of the scene in question as proof.

As you can see, instead of simply being covered in a purple fog, the coliseum itself is exploding and collapsing.

The quality is poor, and the audio nearly impossible to make out, but if you compare it to the released version, the explosion might even still be in the final sound mix, just obfuscated to be the sound of a thunder clap.

Now, why was this hasty edit made? Most theories point to 9/11.

The September 11th terrorist attacks on the World Trade center in 2001 was very shocking and traumatised much of the united states of america. Some things released closer to the time were hastily edited to remove any imagery that might call back to it, for one Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty had a whole sequence from the ending where the giant Arsenal Gear crashed though much of Manhattan stopping just short of the Twin Towers cut at the last moment.

Now you may ask, "MGS2 came out in 2001, but B2 was 2004 why was it still censored" but that's simple, 9/11 left deep scars in the us psyche, even 2002's Lord of the Rings the Two Towers was heavily criticised in some circles for the sensational name trying to cash in on the tragedy, even though the book it was based on was nearly 60 years old. So its not outside of the realm of possibility that even in 2004 a piece of children's media featuring such a scene would be deemed in bad taste.

Even today, the long dead Bionicle fan site Bionicle Zone Power reactivates once a year to pay respects to the tragedy.

Now as to why TLG or someone at least posing as them would be so fanatical and judicious about this version of the film being released to the public, that's anyone's guess.

So that is the story of the weird scene in Bionicle 2: The Legend of Metru Nui. If only all of the nonsensical scenes in that film could be so thoroughly explained.

[dreaminguponlilypads]

KINGS OF ENGLAND.

AU: TF 141 as mobsters in England, circa 90’s

i was watching the movie legend while writing this lol

The streets of Manchester whispered their name like a prayer. 141 wasn’t just a crime syndicate—it was the syndicate. Their influence stretched from the nightclubs in Deansgate to the docks at Salford, their power cemented in blood and loyalty.



At the top sat John Price, the undisputed kingpin. A man with a cigar always dangling from his lips, he carried himself like an old war general—because, once upon a time, he had been one. Now, he led his empire with a mix of ruthless efficiency and the kind of charisma that made men kill for him without question.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley was his right hand, a Manchester native who once ran with smaller gangs before Price took him under his wing. The skull mask was more than a signature—it was a legend. Some said he never took it off, even when he slept. Others swore they saw the devil himself when they looked into his eyes. Whatever the truth, one thing was certain: when Ghost came knocking, you didn’t answer—you ran.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick was the face of their operations, the one who could charm his way out of a murder charge before breakfast. He handled negotiations, both legal and otherwise, and had the uncanny ability to walk into a room full of enemies and walk out with twice as many friends.

And then there was MacTavish. 'Soap,' as they called him, though there was nothing clean about the way he worked. Explosives, heists, breaking and entering—if it required skill, precision, and a touch of madness, Soap was the man for the job. He laughed through every firefight, like he was daring death to take him.

Tonight, they met in the back room of The Raven’s Nest, their private club, where the drinks were expensive, and the clientele even more so.

'Got word from Liverpool,' Gaz muttered, swirling a whiskey in his glass. 'Some lot’s makin’ a move on our ports.'

Soap raised an eyebrow. 'Anyone important?'

Ghost leaned against the bar, arms crossed. 'New blood. Desperate.'

'Either way, they die the same,' Price said, tapping ash from his cigar. 'I want ‘em handled. Send a message.'

Soap cracked his knuckles. 'Consider it done.'

This was Manchester. Their kingdom. And anyone who forgot that?

Well.

Ghost had a knack for making people remember.

Soap didn’t waste time. By midnight, he and Ghost were in a blacked-out BMW, cruising through Manchester’s dimly lit streets, heading toward the docks. Rain slicked the pavement, making the city glisten under the orange glow of streetlights. It was a quiet night—too quiet.

'Gaz get us a name?' Soap asked, checking his pistol.

'Yeah,' Ghost muttered. 'Some lad named Frankie Doyle. Small-time, but he’s got backers. Thinks he can make a name for himself by takin’ from us.'

Soap snorted. 'Fuckin’ idiot.'

They pulled up near the dockyard’s storage units. A few men in track jackets and leather coats loitered outside, smoking.

'Four outside, more inside,' Ghost observed, voice low. 'We doin’ this quiet or loud?'

Soap smirked. 'Let’s see if they got manners first.'

They stepped out of the car, slow and casual. The men outside straightened, hands moving to their weapons.

'This is private property,' one of them called out.

Soap grinned. 'Aye? That’s funny. ‘Cause last I checked, this belongs to 141.'

One of the guards paled at the name, but the others weren’t as smart.

'You’ve got the wrong idea, mate,' the first one sneered, stepping forward. 'You can walk away, nice and easy.'

Ghost sighed. 'Shouldn’t have said that.'

The fight lasted less than a minute. Ghost moved first, a switchblade flashing in the dark. The first man didn’t even have time to scream before he was on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. Soap went for the other, slamming his head against a crate before shooting him point-blank.

The last two tried to run.

Ghost caught one, dragging him back into the shadows with a hand over his mouth. A muffled gunshot followed.

Soap let the last one go—for now. 'We want ‘em to know,' he muttered. 'Let Doyle hear what happens when you fuck with 141.'

They stepped over the bodies and into the warehouse.

Time to send a message.

The warehouse smelled like damp concrete and old oil. Stacked crates formed narrow pathways, and a single hanging light flickered overhead.

Soap moved first, stepping over a bloodstain some poor bastard had left behind, his gun loose in his grip. Ghost followed close behind, his presence like a shadow stretching long in the dim light.

They heard voices before they saw anyone. Frankie Doyle was in the center of the warehouse, standing by a table covered in blueprints and half-smoked cigarettes. He was a scrawny bastard, maybe mid-thirties, with slicked-back hair and a secondhand leather jacket that looked like it had seen better days. Around him, five men armed with cheap pistols listened as he ran his mouth.

‘…we push a little more, yeah? Price and his lot ain't untouchable—’

Soap kicked over a crate, the loud crack of splintering wood cutting Doyle off mid-sentence.

'Go on,' Soap grinned, stepping into the light. 'Finish what you were sayin’.'

The room froze. Doyle’s eyes went wide. One of his men cursed under his breath and reached for his gun.

Ghost shot him in the leg before he could pull the trigger.

The man hit the ground, screaming, and Doyle stumbled back, knocking over a chair. His remaining men pulled their weapons, but they hesitated. Smart.

'Now you thinkin’,' Soap said, spinning his pistol lazily. 'Here’s the problem, Frankie—you’re dumb as fuck. You thought you could move in on our ports, skim off our shipments, and what? We wouldn’t notice?'

Ghost put a bullet in his head before he could answer.

'Price’ll want the docks cleaned up by morning,' Ghost muttered. 'Call Alfie. Have him send a crew.'

Soap nodded, pulling out his pager. 'Hope Liverpool got the message.'

'They will.'

[riboism]

frankenstein

》 pairing: frankenstein! s.mg x mortician! fem reader

》 wc: 4.0k

》 plot: in the wake of her husband’s tragic death, a grieving woman defies nature itself to bring him back. but the man she resurrects is not the same one she lost. his memories are wiped, his mind fragile, his body stitched together by her own desperate hands. as he relearns the world through her guidance, he begins to question the life she has confined him to and the strangeness of his appearance, unaware of the terrible truth she cannot bear to tell him.

》 content tags: frankenstein! mingi, mortuary school student! reader, story takes place in the 1800s, reader is low key manipulative but it’s okay because she’s still in grief, insecure mingi MY SHAAYYLAAA, smut, oneshot, angst, subby bby mingi, body worship, blowjob, riding, multiple orgasms, creampie, very sweet love making :(, this is for the REAL freaks, morally gray area warning, mentions of scars and stitches, this is heavily inspired by the movie Poor Things (2023).

》 song: frankenstein by rina sawayama

You were itching to go home. The streets were quiet, the cool night air nipping at your skin as you hurried along the cobbled path. But it wasn’t the cold winds that urged your hurried steps; You worried about Mingi. You knew he didn’t like it when you were away from him for too long. He’d grow lonely and bored, and each time you returned home late, you would find him sulking in your room, curled up in the corner, his silence like a quiet punishment. He never voiced his grievances out loud, but his sulking made his feelings clear.

Perhaps you had only yourself to blame. You spent too many hours in the library at the university, fingers ink-stained as you skimmed over anatomy texts and alchemical treatises. You should have been home with him, tending to the life you had so desperately clawed back from the grave.

At last, you reached the old manor. Fumbling with the iron key, you locked each of the heavy bolts behind you, securing the house as if the world itself might try to pry open the secrets hidden within. The wooden stairs creaked beneath your hurried steps as you made your way upstairs.

“Miiingii,” you called in a playful tone as you pushed open the door to your bedroom.

You found him lying on the bed, facing away from you. His back was stiff like a wall shutting you out.

“Mingi?” you tried again, softer this time. You crossed the room, settling onto the bed beside him. The mattress dipped under your weight, but he didn’t stir. Your fingers wove into his silky, dark strands, still holding on to the scent of lavender oil from the rinse you had given him the night before.

“I’m home,” you whispered.

You waited for him to turn toward you, but his body remained still.

You leaned closer, brushing your lips over his ear. “Dear, what’s wrong? Look, I brought you something special.” You rattled the small paper-wrapped bundle in your hands. “Figs, fresh from the market.”

His only response was a slow, quiet sigh.

You scooted even closer, resting your chin lightly on his shoulder. “Won’t you let me see you?” You pouted. “I missed you all day. You used to meet me at the door before I could even set down my books.”

Before, he would pull you into his arms the moment you stepped inside, clinging to you as if afraid you might vanish. His unrestrained affection had been overwhelming at times, but now, you almost longed for it. Now, he was different. More withdrawn. More aware. It almost scared you.

This wasn’t the Mingi you had first fallen in love with. That Mingi had been strong, independent, a force of nature. He was your guardian angel, your protector, the one who made you feel safe and loved in a cruel, heartless world. When he was taken from you, the emptiness was unbearable. Life without him was an unfathomable reality you refused to accept.

In your grief, you buried yourself in your books, drowning in theories, alchemical formulas, and desperate calculations that defied both God and nature. You searched for a way—any way—to bring him back. And in the end, you succeeded. But what returned wasn’t truly Mingi.

His body was whole, his limbs moved as they once had, but the man you knew was gone. His memories had been erased, his mind an empty slate, his gaze void of any recognition. He was like a newborn, unable to walk, to speak, to feed himself. And so, you taught him. Day by day, step by step, you guided him through life once more, as if he had been born again.

He clung to you and depended on you for everything. It was exhausting at times, but every time he looked at you, something inside you softened. He was here. He was with you. That was all that mattered. Or so you thought.

Now, looking back, you realize how much simpler things had been when he was still learning, when his world revolved only around you. He was different now. He had grown. He devoured your books, and pored over your notes, his mind hungry for knowledge. With every page he turned, every lesson he absorbed, he grew more aware. His mind was sharp, restless, and full of thoughts and questions. Questions you couldn’t bring yourself to answer.

Who was he?

What had happened to him?

Why wouldn’t you let him leave the manor?

You knew the truth was closing in. Soon, he would figure it out. But still, you tried to keep it from him for as long as you could. Because once he knew, you’d lose him forever.

You leaned in closer, nuzzling into the curve of his shoulder and neck. “Please say something,” You whined into his cool skin. “You’re making me sad.”

For a moment, he laid still, not letting your words tempt him. But soon, he gave in to your whines, sighing deeply before shifting onto his back.

You smiled, relief washing over you as you looked at him. Even now, with shadows cast across his face from the flickering gaslight, his features brought you warmth, chasing away the cold that bit at you all night.

“There you are,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. Mingi lay motionless, his eyes wide open, lips refusing to move with yours. You pulled away slightly, your brows drawing together. “What’s the matter?”

Mingi lowered his eyes, hiding from your gaze. “You said you’d be back before sunset. It’s past eleven.”

Your shoulders sagged, guilt settling heavily in your chest. You reached for his hand, but he didn’t take it.

“Oh, love, I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice soft with regret. “Professor kept me longer than I expected. He needed my help with a post-mortem examination, an elderly man. His family wanted a full report before burial. By the time we were finished, I rushed to the library to work on my essay. I didn’t mean to stay out so late.”

Mingi said nothing, but the way his jaw tensed told you he was still upset. His fingers idly twisted at the hem of the blanket, his mind working through his thoughts.

You placed your fingers under his chin, tilting his face toward you, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I’m sorry, my love” you whispered, sincerely. “Please don’t be upset.”

His lips parted slightly, hesitating as if the words were too difficult to push out. Finally, he spoke.

“Why don’t you let me come with you to your lectures?”

Your heart clenched. You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself. “Mingi, we went over this—”

“I feel so lonely in this big, empty house,” he interrupted, his voice quieter now, but still laced with frustration. “Why can’t we at least take a stroll outside? Just once?”

You hesitated. The room was so quiet you could hear the soft creaking of the wooden beams overhead, the wind whispering through the cracks in the window.

He faced you now, his eyes dark and full with a heavy sadness. “Are you that ashamed of me?”

He spoke so quietly, yet his words struck you harder than any shout ever could. You steadied yourself as you spoke. “Ashamed of you?” You asked. “Why on Earth would I be ashamed of you, Mingi?”

“Because I’m a hideous monster!” he roared, his voice breaking. “My complexion is pale and gray, my body stitched together like some grotesque experiment gone wrong! I look like the creatures in those horrible Brothers Grimm tales!” He panted, his chest rising and falling unevenly. His gaze met yours, filled with raw, agonizing pain. “You’re ashamed to be seen with me. That’s why you keep me locked in here. Just admit it!”

Before you could reach for him, he shoved himself upright, his sudden movement forcing you back. His shoulders shook as he sucked in a ragged breath, but it did little to steady him. He turned away, his back to you, his head bowed as his body shuddered with suppressed sobs.

A hollow ache carved into your chest. You had seen him in so many states—curiosity, fascination, confusion, frustration—but never like this. Never so broken and angry.

You pushed yourself up, the bed frame creaking beneath you as you rose to your feet. Slowly, you tip-toed around the bed carefully, afraid he might flinch away. But he didn’t. He remained still, his head hanging low, shoulders trembling with each uneven breath.

Gently, you cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his cold cheeks. His lashes, dark and wet with tears, fluttered as he hesitantly lifted his gaze to meet yours.

Your heart sank. “Oh, Mingi,” you whispered, the words carrying all the tenderness you could muster. “You are no monster.”

His lips parted, but no words came at first. He swallowed hard, his breath warm and shallow against your fingers.

“Yeah? Then what am I?” He asked in a low voice.

You held him tighter as if your grip alone could hold him together and ease the ache buried deep within him.

“You are my greatest love,” you said, your thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles against his skin. “My beating heart. My light, my darkness. My gentle giant.” You leaned in, your forehead resting against his, your breath mixing with his own. “My most beautiful creation.”

His lips quivered, his brows drawing together as more tears spilled down his cheeks. He searched your face as if trying to find some hidden deception in your words, but there was none. Only love.

“That’s why I have to keep you here,” You explained, your fingers ghosting over his cheek, tracing the faint lines of stitches that held him together. “You’re far too precious to me. What would I do with myself if you were to wander outside and hurt yourself, hmm?”

Your voice was gentle, but firm. A careful balance of love and control. “The world out there is dangerous and unpredictable. People wouldn’t understand you the way I do. They wouldn’t see you the way I do. But here… here, I can keep you safe. I can protect you. I can’t ever lose you, Mingi. You understand?”

The thought of you suffering because of him was far worse than any pain he could endure himself. He never wanted you to be hurting. His loneliness, his longing for the outside world, meant nothing if it meant keeping you safe. If staying within these walls was the price to keep you happy, then he would pay it willingly, again and again.

You felt his resistance softening, the tension in his shoulders easing beneath your touch. He nodded his head eagerly, convincing you that he understood. Yes, you were only protecting him. And where else would he need to be than be here with you?

Mingi buried his face into your chest, his breath warm against the fabric of your dress. His arms wrapped around you, desperately clinging onto you as if you might slip away on account of his emotional outburst.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice small and fragile. “I just… I look at myself, and I worry that I’m not enough for you.” His words muffled in the soft folds of your clothing.

You sighed, your fingers weaving through his dark hair, stroking it gently. You had known for some time that he struggled with his appearance. How he would glance at the mirror only to turn away, jaw tightening, shoulders slumping under the weight of his self-loathing.

It felt like a cruel joke, that you, with your flawless skin, and warmth and radiance, could love someone like him. It didn’t make sense to him. He was the beast, an unnatural creation held together by a thread. And you… you were his beauty. The light in his darkness. The one thing that made him feel human.

“How do you look at me and not run away?” His voice was raw with insecurity. He curled his fingers into the lacy fabric of your dress, gripping tightly, as if bracing himself for an answer he feared.

You didn’t hesitate. Gently, you cupped his cheeks, your thumbs reuniting with the cool, uneven texture of his skin, feeling the faint ridges of stitches beneath your fingertips. You lifted his face, urging him to meet your eyes.

“Because I love you,” you said, your voice filled with certainty. “You are my darling husband. Must I need any other reason?”

Your eyes searched his, willing him to believe you. To see himself the way you did. Not as something broken, not as something unnatural, but as yours. Entirely, unconditionally, yours.

Though you spoke fondly, your words didn’t land. Mingi’s brows drew together, his lips pressing into a thin line as doubt clouded his mind. No matter how many times you reassured him, no matter how gently you held him, he struggled to accept that someone like you could love someone like him.

You leaned in closer, your lips hovering just above his. "Let me show you," you murmured softly. Slowly, you closed the distance, capturing his lips with yours in a tender kiss. His initial hesitation melted away, replaced by a tentative hunger as he responded to your touch. His hands found your waist again, and he pulled you closer, the erratic beat of his heart thumping against yours.

As your kiss deepened, you felt Mingi's hands exploring, sliding up your back with a newfound confidence that sent shivers down your spine. It was as if his self-doubt unraveled with every touch you brought him. The way you melted into him, the breathy moans slipping past your lips, served as undeniable proof that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. And for the first time, he allowed himself to believe it.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes locking with his, silently asking for permission and offering reassurance. His gaze held nothing but trust and longing, a silent plea for you to continue, to take the lead.

Carefully, you began to undo the buttons of his shirt, your fingertips grazing over his bare skin. You pushed him gently down onto the mattress, a spark of desire burning in your lower abdomen as you climbed on top of him.

Your lips reconnected with his, and you couldn’t help but rut your hips, grinding yourself over his growing bulge. His moans vibrated against your lips, a low, primal growl that sent shockwaves through your body. He was always so reactive to your touch, his big body seemingly getting smaller as he melted just beneath you.

Your kisses trailed down his neck and over his exposed chest, lips lingering gently over the scars just above his heart. Your hands roamed over the hard plane of his muscles, tracing over the contours of his body with a light and playful touch. You could feel Mingi stirring beneath you, groaning as his big hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer, wanting to feel every inch of your body against his. He moved you back and forth, a sticky wetness already staining his freshly worn trousers.

Mingi's head fell back, his eyes shutting tightly as you took his nipple into your mouth, suckling gently. His chest rose and fell rapidly, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation taking over as you played with his tender flesh, biting and pulling ever so slightly. A wanton moan escaped his lips, a low, pleading sound that filled you with glee.

“Y/N…” he whined, his voice soft and pleading. His hands rested on your shoulders, his fingers lightly gripping your skin, silently begging you for more. When you looked up at him, your mouth still busy on his nipple, you felt a rush of power. His hair was slightly disheveled, falling over his forehead in a way that made him look even more breathtaking. His eyes, wet and glassy, met yours, and his puffy lips were slightly parted, as if he was going to cry out your name again.

Your clothes had fallen to the floor, discarded in the heat of the moment. Your naked body, now warm and flushed, pressed against his own, his large frame resting back against your soft flesh. You kissed him passionately, your lips trailing down from his jawline until making home over his neck. Your hand reached around and stroked his hard cock, a gentle caress that made his hips buck.

"So pretty,” you breathed, your head resting against his shoulder as you studied his long length. “Every inch of you is a work of art, made just for me…Look how perfectly you fit in my hand."

His cheeks flamed at your words, his eyes lowering as he melted in your hand. Only you could say such filthy things to him and make it sound so eloquent. It made him wet, forcing a dribble of precum to escape his slit, which you thumbed over and circled against his throbbing head.

You then moved around his large frame until you were kneeled before him, dipping your head just enough to spit on his cock, his breath hissing as your saliva dripped down his shaft. Mingi watched intently, his breath catching as you took all of him into your mouth, your lips stretching wide around his girth. He whimpered at the sudden warmth of your mouth. His own hung open as he sat and watched in awe as you sucked and slurped him, making sure to give him all the attention he needed. His eyes rolled back, and for a moment he felt weightless, as if he was floating on a cloud, a strong bliss taking over his senses.

You bobbed your head and took him deeper, forcing your hair to fall forward and frame your face. Captivated by the sight, Mingi gently gathered your loose strands and tucked them behind your ear. He desperately wanted to tell you that you looked so beautiful at this moment, that he admired how hard you worked to make him feel good, but the words got stuck in his throat each time your throat gagged around him, so he kept tending to your hair, pulling the strands away from your eyes so they didn’t bother you. His touch, so tender and loving, made your heart flutter in your chest.

“You taste so good,” You moaned against his cock, gripping a hand tighter at its base. “I can’t get enough of you.” He shuddered as you traced wet kisses along his vein, your tongue exploring every ridge and curve.

Sucking on his tip, you pumped him up and down, your grip becoming even tighter. Mingi's eyes widened, and he shuddered again, unable to hold back any longer. His breath hitched, and his body tensed as a wave of relief washed over him.

With a powerful thrust, his cum shot into your mouth, filling it with his warm seed. You moaned, your eyes closing in satisfaction as you took him deep, a sensory overload that left him breathless.

Mingi turned a delightful shade of pink, embarrassed to see his cum dripping from your lips. It was adorable seeing him so flustered. He started to apologize and offered to get you a towel to spit on, but your actions left him speechless. You hummed in satisfaction, a deep, contented sound that turned his brain to mush. Without hesitation, you swallowed his load, licking your lips clean, a sign of your complete devotion to him.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his sensitive cockhead, a gesture that made him snap back to reality. Looking up at him, you saw his flushed, sweaty expression, and your heart skipped a beat. The sight of him, so vulnerable and raw, made you sigh in adoration.

"You're so handsome when you cum, honey” you whispered. “Such a good boy for me.”

He blushed, a subtle pink tinting his cheeks. He could feel your love radiating toward him, and it felt almost overwhelming, a beautiful connection that he just couldn’t describe. Something inside him ignited, both a hunger and a need to give back, to be the one to pleasure you. With a swift and gentle movement, he pulled you onto his lap, your bodies aligning perfectly like two puzzle pieces.

His lips crashed against yours, tasting his saltiness on your lips. You moaned, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. The feel of his hard cock rubbing against your wet folds sent goosebumps all over your body, a delicious friction that had you wanting more.

Mingi pulled away, his eyes darting down to your wet heat, admiring how pretty your slick juices look all over his cock. Meeting your gaze, he spoke softly, his voice filled with undeniable want. “I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to be good for you…please, I’ll be so good.” It almost pained him to want you this way, to desire you this badly, and he needed your permission to put out this fire that burned within him.

Your heart bursted at his words, a rush of love and appreciation washing over you. You nodded, a subtle gesture of consent, and he smiled, a sweet, loving smile that melted your heart. He leaned in, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, his hands roaming all over your body before settling them at your waist. He guided you over his cock, and you sank down, gasping at the stretch. His brows furrowed with concern, a fleeting moment of worry before you leaned in and kissed him to reassure him. You rocked your hips back and forth, getting used to his length.

“Mingi,” You whined, your pace quickening as you found your rhythm. He was buried so deep inside of you that it made tears well in your eyes. You continued kissing him hungrily, your lips moving from his mouth to his neck, leaving behind a trail of purple bruises. His hands roamed your back, a comforting touch that contrasted his hardness that rocked inside of you. As you pulled away to catch your breath, you caught sight of Mingi's eyes, which were as teary as your own. His gaze was fixed on you, an intense lock that spoke volumes about the deep love that he undoubtedly had for you. You almost wanted to cup his sweet face and kiss away his tears.

Before either of you could speak, his grasp on your waist tightened, a silent plea for you to stay put. You felt his cum releasing inside you, a warm sensation that mixed with your own, filling you to the brim. You cried out, your eyes locked on his as you reached your climax. It all felt so overwhelming, but he worked you gently and slowly over his cock, bringing you down from your peak with a tender and caring touch.

Exhausted, Mingi collapsed against the bed, pulling you down with him. You tumbled forward, your body molding against his as you rested atop him, breathless and sweaty. With a soft hum, you began peppering his face with tender kisses over his eyelids, his cheeks, and the sharp line of his jaw; each one a silent prayer, a vow of devotion. Your fingers traced the familiar contours of his face as you sighed, content.

“My Mingi,” you whispered, a gentle smile curling at your lips. But then, a sudden darkness took hold of you.

He wasn’t your Mingi.

The man beneath you, holding you, loving you, was something else entirely. A being shaped by your grief, your desperation. A body stolen from the earth and brought back by your own hands. A carefully crafted illusion of the man you lost. And he had no idea, no idea that you stole him, reimagined him, all for your own selfish intentions.

The realization threatened to crush you, your chest tightening as the weight of the truth nearly pulled you from the moment.

Mingi, ever attuned to you, sensed the shift in your expression. His brows knit together as he reached up, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down your cheek. Though he didn’t understand the sorrow behind it, he smiled softly, his eyes full of adoration, his love for you unshaken.

He pulled you closer, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, anchoring you back to him.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he whispered to you. And just like that, he drifted off to sleep, his own qualms put to rest, while yours just began to crack at the surface.

I would greatly appreciate reblogs with comments and replies. please consider leaving feedback if you enjoyed this x.

taglist: @yoonguurt

[coldshrugs]

aaaaa, thank you for the mention!! i'm in excellent company--there are so many wonderful folks on this list.

i post screenshots and fic about my WoL, Io Laithe. i post a lot (a lot!) of wolstinien. i've made a couple of gpose guides, and a customizable reference sheet to use for commissions or just to show off your ocs. i'm happy to help with gpose, so if you ever have a question about tools or the process, send it my way and i'll try my best!

taking a sec to plug my pals:

@scionshtola - a beautiful WoL, posts screenshots and fic (even AUs!) that will leave you stunned

@hythlodaes - writing that takes my breath away!! gposes that feel like movie stills!! what's not to love?

@lavampira - another double threat writer-gposer with amazing work. you want to see d'alia's thighs soooo bad

@lilas / @lilaspose - meg's art is so vibrant and punchy, you don't want to miss it! and their WoL's lore is laid out in fun, thorough posts.

@oschonseleven - femroe o'clock!!! ash's art is gorgeous, i'll never get over his use of color and texture. the things he does with vanilla gpose will grab you too.

@galadae / @hanseelie - stunning art (it's "hanatomy" for a reason!) that captures pieces of their WoL's journey in ways that will make you laugh, cry, and fall in love with Cala

and some of my favorite gposers include: @battleonthebigbridge @punchelf @yloiseconeillants and @displaykitkats !!! check them out!

SHAMELESS PLUGGING - FFXIV STYLE!

It's that time of year again! Here are just a FEW of the amazing blogs available to follow in the FFXIV community here on Tumblr! (A lot of them can also be found on Bluesky--two for one shot!) If you're not following them, YOU SHOULD BE!

@lynxden -- gorgeous shots, amazing information on lion dancing and the history of it, even some goddamn STOP MOTION ANIMATION with FFXIV screenshots, that is astounding.

@coldshrugs -- a gorgeous WoL and some absolutely amazing screenshots, I am just... *sigh*

@darcar -- a Viera as pretty as Anna (and I rarely say that...)

@cerbaros -- the GPose just gets better and better and BETTER...!

@zylphiacrowley -- ever wanted to go through the MSQ in graphic novel format? Zyl's got you covered.

@mist-touchedxiv -- come get you some Viera lore theorizing and some really interesting backstory!

@abyssalmermaiden -- legit I wonder what people drink to come up with such absolutely fucking cool character ideas...

@iron-sparrow -- why are you not following them? Why are you not following them? YOU'RE MISSING YEIN!

@ink-dreams-ffxiv -- the fishercatte is so CUTE!

@oneiroy -- not only do they put up some hella good mods, they take AMAZING shots.

@verysmallcyborg -- and if you follow Ryss, you have to follow Fornax so you can get the complete "butches in love" package!

@nolanel-corbeaux -- you will meet the skink and you will thank me for directing you to this one.

@ser-corviknight -- Avery has such FUN characters and one of the most unique WoLs I've ever seen.

@ahollowgrave -- I will always and forever push more people to follow Odette.

@feralkwe -- watching Feral get into GPose crimes is almost as delightful as reading their fanfic.

@arty-ffxiv -- when you meet Kupa, you'll wonder why it took so long to follow.

@drownedlight - this is really just a gateway to their AO3 page, but I know the fanfic will lure in just... OH so many...

@sezja -- a violet Hrothgal is the first beauty to greet you, isn't that a delight???

DO YOU KNOW MORE??? ADD MORE!!! GIVE ME MORE WONDERFUL, TALENTED PEOPLE TO FOLLOW!!!

(Like you @luck-and-larceny I see you posting more Malika lately...!)

[silverhart-makes-art]

I have now finished ‘Wings of Starlight’ and I have many thoughts, and I don’t know where to put them so it’s going here.

First of all, the book was great. Go read it, especially if you like the Disney Fairies movies. I was excited for the book - the Tinkerbell series of films are my guilty pleasure - but I also didn’t know what to expect. Turns out, it was fantastic. It felt like it’s own thing while still feeling like a continuation of the movie series. There’s so much attention to detail, such clear love for the world and an understanding of what makes the Disney Fairies movies work. It was all so sincere and earnest and very, very sweet. Also Pixie Hollow, as a world is just such a cool setup for many different stories and world building - I need more novels set in this world. Or at least some good fanfiction.

Anyway, spoilers below!

Thought, the first: This book is really sad, of course. I won’t lie - I got pretty teary-eyed multiple times. But I don’t think anything choked me up as much as Clarion and Elvina’s reconciliation at the end. The doomed lovers thing is great, it’s what we’re all here for, so I guess I wasn’t expecting the gut-punch that is Clarion and Elvina coming to understand each other, right at the end of Elvina’s life. Its it’s own sort of beautiful tragedy, and what a perfect way to end the story. Just the symmetry of Clarion being misunderstood, her finding Milori, someone who sees her as she is, and then giving that gift of understanding back to Elvina, who returned it - just closing that circular story thread with the most beautiful little bow. Perfect. That’s all love is at the end of the day, isn’t it? To just see someone, and fully understand and accept who they are.

Thought, the second: This really drove me nuts. So the book establishes that there once were dream-talent fairies who gathered up dreams from the auroras and kept the Nightmares at bay, but all the dream-talents are gone now. Got it. Milori is the Warden of the Winter Woods, he never met his predecessor but he knows his job is to just keep the Nightmares locked up. Cool. Clarion even asks Milori what his talent is and he’s like ‘eh, I don’t know,’ and she’s like ‘huh, that’s odd’. When I tell you I was waiting the entire book for the reveal to be that Milori is a dream-talent and it never happens! Unless some pages got stuck together and I missed it, I don’t think it ever says what Milori’s talent is. And this is driving me nuts! It was all set up for him to be a dream-talent. Chekhov is literally handing you the gun and saying ‘pull the trigger’! Clarion even looks at him and says something like him being a dream and I was like ‘that’s so on the nose, but I love it’ and it doesn’t happen!? Just imagine how deliciously gut-wrenching it would’ve been for him to only realize after the Nightmares were defeated. The aurora finally shows up again, and realization dawns, but by this point his wing is broken, and he can never fly through the aurora collecting dream threads like he was meant to. Oh, what sweet irony that would be! To be like a wolf with nothing to hunt; one day you look up to see the wild elk on the horizon, only to realize too late, the leash wrapped around your neck. Anyway, someone should write that fanfiction, because if not, I’m going to have to,.

Thought, the third: There are herald-talent fairies. It’s so oddly specific, it tickles me so much. I would think a herald would just be like a regular fairy that got promoted to the job, but the fact that it specifically says ‘herald-talent’ leads me to so many questions. What do they do when there isn't a party on? What about their magic makes them a herald-talent? How many of them are there? ‘Cause I can’t imagine you’d really need more than one or two, and I don’t know what I like more: thirty herald-talents just rotating out every half-hour or so; or one singular fairy who is just really, really excited to announce things. I’m gonna need a whole other novel just about this herald-talent, I swear.

Thought the fourth: At one point at a ball, wine in mentioned, and then the text goes on to specifically state how Clarion is given lemonade to drink, and I just think that is hilarious. We can have copious amount of blood and peril, and a literal battle, but heaven forbid an adult, ageless fairy woman so much as touch a mildly alcoholic beverage in a Disney YA novel. I loved how the book toed that line, swinging wildly between very frighting, life threatening danger where Clarion thought she or someone was going to die, and then “okay, but we can’t have characters actually die. They’re just sleeping.” Not only is that very funny to me, but I feel like it can’t be a true Disney Fairies story if someone actually dies. There is no death in Pixie Hollow, only lost things, and cycles of sleep and wakefulness.

Thought the fifth: Wishing on a star. That is all.

Thought the final: What a lovely and delightful read this was. I think this is the only Disney spin-off I’ve read where I’m genuinely interested in checking out the author’s other works. Everything was just wrapped up so neat and nicely. It reminded me again why I love the Tinkerbell movies in the first place, and that I really need to rewatch them more often. And I don’t know, maybe read some fanfiction. I’m sure there’s some good ones out there. If you read all this and have a good fanfic to recommend, please do.

[sineala]

Hello~!!

I have a question that’s been burning in my mind for a bit now, so I just want to ask something. But first, let me preface: if Tony had a superpower, it would be his mind (and his heart of gold, but Steve is more associated with “heart” motif, I think, though they can be both its representative—it’s not an either/or situation I believe—but I digress, it’s not the point, so thank you for your patience as I struggle to get my point across😖🫣). Tony is smart, ingenious, resourceful, and other things basically describing him as a super genius. The matter is that there are multiple characters who are super geniuses too, like: reed, Bruce, t’challa (comics; doesn’t seem to have the same level of intellect (feets) in the movies), shuri (movies; I’m not familiar with the comics), etc.

My question is, what separates Tony’s “brain” superpower from these other characters? What is he better at than them? (Like, his brain processes information faster, can multitask and run “programs” in parallel, etc.—these kinds of things involving how his brain processes works compared others.)

A follow-up question would be, in terms of work (like engineering, biology, physics, chemistry, and so on), what is he better at than others? Cause from my last reading of comics (now I’m unfamiliar so I may be incorrect with my assumptions), it seems everyone is doing everything now. There’s no “division-of-labour according to skill set ” so to speak, I think. I understand that these characters have their own runs but they team up as well. So I’m just wondering, if they do team up, what kind of works/tasks will Tony spearhead as the authority even when compared against other super geniuses?

I’m a new user of tumblr so I’m not familiar with the etiquette (made the account finally, after reading many of your fics in ao3����😖😆). If your answer to each question is long, it’s fine to answer them as if they’re separate asks. Long answers doesn’t deter me. In fact, I’ll enjoy reading it. Otherwise, if you prefer to answer both in one go, that will be fine as well! ❤️❤️

Have a good day/night!!!

Hi! Sorry it took me so long to get back to you; I had to think about this a bit.

The way Marvel handles intelligence is, I think, peculiar to superhero comics. Because the fandom attracts and thrives on fans who practice curative fandom to a degree that is stereotypically pretty large, there are some quirks you don't get in other fandoms. Basically, comics caters to the kind of people who are like "who would win in a fight" and then like to argue about it. So a lot of elements that in most other fandoms would just be elements of characterization are ranked and measured. In most fandoms, if you had two smart characters, or two strong characters, it would just be enough to know that about them. But it's superhero fandom, so you can look up lists of the Ten Smartest Characters, as if there is only one kind of intelligence and one domain of intelligence and it can be measured accurately and quantified, which is not a thing that is true about the real world.

(Incidentally, last I checked, the smartest character was Lunella Lafayette (Moon Girl). I feel like this is a sign that these lists are maybe not all that useful, because even if she is the best at figuring things out, she's still, like, eight years old, and there are a lot of problems to solve where no matter how smart you are, it would really really help to have more life experience and emotional understanding than an eight year old. I also think this about Franklin and Valeria Richards.)

In actual stories, Tony and the various genius heroes tend to just show up and be there to serve the narrative. They are as smart as the story needs them to be, and they are there to do what the story needs them to do, and very little of this is real science anyway. So if Tony's better at something it's because he's the guy the author wants to be able to solve the problem; it's hard for me to treat this question as if they were real people, because they're fictional geniuses solving completely fictional problems with fictional science. It's not like deciding who should be on the competitive math team. They'd probably all be good at it.

In terms of canonical powers, Tony is no longer using Extremis, so his processing power is back to that of an unassisted human. I don't think any of the other genius characters are similarly augmented, so they're all even there.

If you put Reed and T'Challa and Tony in a room -- well, you've got like half of the original Illuminati, for starters. (I'm leaving Bruce out of this because Bruce as a character who interacts in any way with the Avengers is basically a MCU thing which occasionally now shows up in comics because of the MCU.)

Anyway, of those three guys, Reed is the theoretical scientist. If you need someone who will do all the math, that's Reed. He will calculate whatever needs calculating.

Tony is the engineer. He can figure out how to take the calculations and turn them into a physical thing that does the thing that needs to be done. And, sure, Reed builds stuff too, but certainly not to the degree that Tony builds stuff. He is dogged and persistent and willing to put things together and see what happens and fail and fail and fail until he gets it right. Tony is 100% the guy I would want on my team in Junkyard Wars. Is Junkyard Wars still a thing? It should be a thing again, and if he were real he should definitely compete on it.

T'Challa is kind of a combination of both of them -- theoretical and practical -- but what he really brings to the table is being the king of Wakanda. He can put the resources of an entire country -- the richest country in the Marvel world -- into building stuff. Tony builds things personally. Hands on. One at a time. Even though he often has companies that could presumably do this for him, he's not manufacturing anything at scale (exceptions made for things like getting into clean energy). He is building bespoke, one-off, world-saving solutions. T'Challa has the resources to take things like Tony's one-off builds and make lots more -- like how he designed the Quinjets and the Wakanda Design Group built them. Reed probably wouldn't have designed them -- although if they needed some new scientific theory to make them work, he could come up with that. Tony could probably design one and build you a working one in 48 hours without stopping to eat or sleep, but he probably wouldn't have built more than one of them. But T'Challa can make them and get you a small fleet of them. Because that's what he actually did. He's got the resources and the leadership.

I don't know that I would call any of these kinds of things better than the other -- I think they're all necessary parts of the process. Since most of the world-saving solutions are generally one-off builds, T'Challa's specific strengths don't usually come into play as much, at least in most of the events. But Tony usually gets to be a hero, unless he's evil or the writer hates him or something.

I would rec Empyre if you want a relatively recent event where the geniuses all have to work together -- and, to an extent, AXE Judgment Day -- as well as the Dark Ages miniseries, which is set in an AU where Apocalypse had mind-controlled geniuses working for him for eight years and somehow no one built the thing to solve the problem he had until Tony got there and did it in a few days. Which doesn't really make sense to me, but, uh, go, Tony, good job trying to destroy the world.

[ddejavvu]

guys this really shouldn’t have to be stated explicitly but your happiness is your responsibility and not the responsibility of unpaid thankless fanfic writers :) just fyi. i know that anon didn’t mean to make it sound like you’re the only thing getting them out of bed in the morning mei but like. wow.

pressuring writers to work faster also does nothing to improve the story outcome if they *do* force themselves to write it. forced writing does not have the same mojo as self motivated writing, mei has said that time and time again. pushing her to finish it will only harm the quality of the story 😩

i do really dislike it when people are demanding about it, like they've paid for it or like i'm contractually obligated to set aside my personal life for their enjoyment. however, yesterday's anon was kind enough and waited long enough since the last question I got asked about it that i wasn't bothered much. but please, remember that me and a million other authors like me have so many things to do other than writing.

you may only know us from our writing but that doesn't mean that's all we do. i work 40 hours a week and i go to school full time. i have a boyfriend and several close friends that i see at least once if not twice or more a week. i have other hobbies, i watch tv and movies, i crochet, i knit, i build legos, i scroll on my phone, i do puzzles, i read, i do a million other things than writing. i love writing, and i do it when i can, i just don't always have time to tackle a big project like spring fling. that's not saying that i never write it, or that i'm abandoning it, i just need everyone to understand that i'm not a full-time author, i write whenever i get a spare moment, which isn't often.

if you want more of my writing you may just have to be a little bit patient, which is something that i know has gotten harder for many people with the rise of short-form content and the shortening of attention spans, but there's no way around it: i can't pump out writing on demand. writing is my art form and art takes time, especially something like spring fling that i've poured years of thought into. the best way that you can appreciate the art i'm sharing with you is to wait for me to share it with you.

messaging me impatient, mean-spirited demands for the next chapter will get you nothing more than a block. it's gotten several people that already. i really, truly don't mind sweet messages about it, but begging for it does nothing when i'm already doing it as fast as i can

[fireyletters]

DISCLAIMER!! english is not my first language, it was seven in the morning when I wrote this and at that point I had been awake only for two hours. I wrote it on the train bc I can't stop my train of thoughts while looking at the countryside and listening to music. the song lyrics are in bold

Combat, I'm ready for combat I say I don't want that, but what if I do? 'Cause cruelty wins in the movies

the fact that he pretends to be crazy etc to avoid the war, he never wanted to go and they forced him to (cruelty wins in the movies)

I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

this refers to many things, both the fact that he talks non-stop but at that moment he could do nothing to avoid his fate, and many things he could have said to Penelope before leaving but for which he did not have the time

Easy they come, easy they go

the words that always come out easily, the rhetorical ability that we all know he has, he never has to think about how to make a cohesive speech because he just knows, like with Nausicaa, the Phaeacians, Polyphemus

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

in the end he's left alone and leaves everyone behind

I never grew up, it's getting so old

in my opinion he's very young in spirit

Help me hold onto you

"you" penelope, mostly, telemachus

I've been the archer I've been the prey

both literally and figuratively, because he was both the executioner and the prey: troy (my fav war criminal <3) polyphemus, he sacrificed his own men, the suitors, etc

Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?

the first question: he was fundamental in the war, and he knows that Penelope would never leave him. the second question: everything he did and that happened (see above) the mutiny, the sister who sees that he came back without her husband

Dark side, I search for your dark side

But what if I'm alright, right, right, right here?

your dark side (penelope's) and the rest explains itself

And I cut off my nose just to spite my face Then I hate my reflection for years and years

him and Diomedes stealing the statue of Athena and him betraying him trying to kill him to be sent home, I don't think he ever forgave himself for this

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost

The room is on fire, invisible smoke

Bro has ptsd and nightmares, I have a hc that the only thing that gave him comfort both in troy and on ogygia was the sea so he keeps going to the beach even in Ithaca to look at the sea, sometimes he would sit down, sometimes he would walk back and forth (i pace like a ghost, like a ghost in ogygia) and he dreams about troy, amongst other things (the room is on fire, invisible smoke)

And all of my heroes die all alone

this pretty much explains itself, all his men dead, people who to him were heroes

Help me hold onto you

as written before

I've been the archer I've been the prey Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?

(I see right through me, I see right through me)

'Cause they see right through me

They see right through me

They see right through

Can you see right through me?

They see right through

They see right through me

I see right through me

I see right through me

To see right through someone: see what's behind someone's lies and strategies.

he is an absolute lying bastard (and we love him for it <3) but those who know him know that he's lying 50% of the time or he's is orchestrating some trick to have his way with things

All the king's horses, all the king's men

Couldn't put me together again

the success, the credit he got for the horse strategy, the honor once he returned home didn't matter to him if he was no longer the man who deserved it (you deserve it all pookie that's not true)

'Cause all of my enemies started out friends

THIS EXPLAINS ITSELF

then it repeats, so I didn't write anything else

Who could stay?

You could stay

the "you" obviously refers to penelope

Combat, I'm ready for combat

despite everything he goes through he's determined to return home, he's ready to face the impossible, ready for combat

I made an analysis of the archer by taylor swift and how it fits odysseus who wants to see it

[pianokantzart]

I just watched the 1993 Super Mario Bros movie, and the chokehold big age gap Mario and Luigi has on me right now is insane. Mario being extremely overprotective of the boy he raised? Muah *chefs kiss*. I now want a story where Luigi is in school, and Mario just tries and helps him with his homework or something. I need more domestic Mario and Luigi. I just wanna see the two of them sitting in their apartment in Brooklyn watching tv together, I wanna see them enjoy walks, do actual plumbing, I wanna see Mario teach Luigi plumbing.

Just fluff. Sorry about the rant btw.

No no no! You're so right. You are so very very right. I love the double-date dinner scene when Luigi starts talking about his relationship with Mario.

L: 'Cos Mario, he brought me up! He's been my mother my whole life. M: Hey! L: I mean father. My father. He's been my father, my uncle, my brother - everybody!

Luigi doesn't even know who his parents are. And if Mario legitimately raised Luigi alone while impoverished and without any family he could rely on, he did such a fantastic job?? It's no wonder he's the most abrasive of all the Marios (not that I have a problem with that. Grumpy Mario my beloved.)

Don't even get me started on Mario being his little brother's wingman, trying to feed Luigi dialogue under his breath when he's attempting to chat up Daisy. Also him aggressively backseat driving and trying not to panic while Luigi is a maniac behind the wheel? Putting himself through hell to help his little bro rescue the woman he loves? One of the best parts was when, after Bowser President Koopa attempts to gouge Luigi's eyes out in a moment of rage, Mario jumps in and grapples Koopa to get him off. He gets tased for his efforts, but succeeds in keeping his bro's eyeballs intact. Then in the devo chamber in the next scene you can see Mario nervously checking on Luigi in the background, cupping his face as he ensures there's no serious damage done.

Sorry Mario, Luigi was kinda right to describe you as his mother.

[crumb]

KYLE GALLNER as SAM COUGARS INC 2011 | dir. K. Asher Levin

[niamhthefae]

Currently thinking about how Hal either had to choose or was given the surname Yorke at some point.

In the 1500s surnames weren't very common, and since he was born in a brothel the chances are that even if his mother or father did have a surname he wouldn't have gotten it. He also says that he doesn't know which woman was his mother so him being given the surname of one of them wouldn't make sense. Therefore, at some point in history he would've had to end up gaining that name. Did he see it on a grave or a book or a sign and decide he liked it? Did another vampire give him the surname? Did he think of it on the spot randomly in conversation? We know that he was a lord at some point so he must've been relatively well known in the higher class at some point, he probably eventually had to come up with a full name if he didn't already have one.

additionally, what happened with the henry thing? as far as I'm aware his actual birth name is Hal, so why did he decide to become lord 'Henry' Yorke? was it just for fun or was he trying to distance himself from his name for a bit or sound more distinguished? i really don't know on this one

i have so many unanswered questions about this show and i wish we had 5+ more seasons so they could explore everything in this universe, but alas, we will probably never get anything like that :(

also, massive side note here but i really wish they'd told us more about Hal's past. We get that one scene in the mansion and references to his time with Leo and Pearl, the thing with cutler and his fight with lady Catherine (side note within this side note: some of the historical costumes were AMAZING, some were a bit naff. i will make a whole post about this at some point) However other than the scene in the final episode where we see his death/recruitment we get absolutely nothing of his time when he was human, same with Mitchell. i think even if it was just bonus footage, showing us just a bit of them pre-recruitment would have been AMAZING.

[sunflowergem]

I am still on my Sonic the Hedgehog bullshit. I got to see the live movie in English and Japanese during vacation this winter and it has not helped anything. Although these sketches are from before that so some things are out of date. There's a good couple of details that need to change as I've thought about how the world works that I've been building and thought more about group dynamics and such.

These are some additional characters that have popped up. I have so many OC's now😭 I've been cooking hard on the world building and actually ended up doing some rough draft work on the first chapter of a fan fiction for it so look forward to some of that eventually

So in case it's a little bit hard to read these folks are as follows plus some info

Pitt the Panda, Germ the Possum, Rover the Shark, and (not pictured since they were a recent addition to this group) Bones the Velociraptor make up The Harbingers. They are an additional music group at the same music company (Harmony Music Agency=HMA) as Three of a Kind (Spade, Clover, and Diamond's group name). They each have a particular music style they are best at, not sure what their like main style of music would be yet.

Star the Hedgehog is Clover's father and is the headmaster of one of the largest magic academies in their world. Was aming for an excentric wizard/superstar vibe. Not too happy with his anatomy, looks too noodley to me rn but hey rough drafts乁⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠o⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠ㄏ

Last is some of the folks from HMA. Shield the Cobra, Taxy the Chinchilla, and Poppy the Capybara. Shield is the manager and taxi is the publicist for the three of a kind and the harbingers. They work the closest with the groups and act as kind of pseudo-secondary parents to be honest. Taxi and shield are also married to each other and not pictured here but they have a little snake kiddo named Bow. The groups always adore when Bow gets to come to work with his parents. Poppy is the president of the entire agency. So he doesn't have as much interaction with them but I'm picturing like Mayor from Townsville vibes.

So yeah add these to the list of folks that can also be asked about at this point whenever I post like ask list or if anyone gets interested and wants to just stick some questions in.

If you want to feel free to do this but if not totally ignore but here are some tags @evocationwriter @ahiddenpath @nowonderi-nc and if anyone else wants to hop on please do. I am now going to try and shut down for the night cuz I kind of feel like I'm getting a cold and I have to go to work tomorrow. Hopefully I'm just tired 😩

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the lovely @andrigyn last week, tysm 💕

No. What he truly despised—what he loathed more than the man himself—was the undeniable truth that they had once been close enough for this to even be possible. That once—long ago, in a life he could scarcely remember—they had stood side by side. That he had been foolish enough to work with a man like this. That he had trusted him. That the remnants of it lingered still, clinging to them both like a ghost that refused to be purged.

I had hoped to have some art but uhhhh, apparently the writers curse is very very real, this week has been an absolute mess and the "most progressed" WIP I have is a dark blob. Sooooooo here's a bit of the next chapter that I edited in my lunch break skyxkskss

No pressure but if y'all would like @flamemittens @elinorbard @defira85 @quacaserous @beecreeper

[ganondoodle]

(idk if anyone wants to keep hearing my opinions on totk book stuff but-)

apparently it says that rauru DID have kids, multiple even, which yeah... is kinda necessary for zelda to even be connected to them so much so that sonia can SENSE a blood connection (which, even with all the excuses with magic, is just a little too far for me to suspend my disbelief bc its over, OVER, ten thousand years worth of generations that seperate her from them that one lil touch of the hand can sense that (feels more like an attempt to make you care about them or .. see them as zeldas "better" parents just bc they exchange a few nice words, i never got the feeling they were 'better' parents and its also kinda disrespectful to her actual parents, like sure rhoam wasnt the best but i wouldnt call rauru better just bc he was polite)- i could see maybe the light power of hylia or sth but since its the coolest dude that ever lived rauru now that had it which still doesnt make sense and makes me unreasonably annoyed and she can sense BOTH of their powers in her? nah) the fact theres NOTHING about them in the game itself is just so ... no way they planned any of this

i dont think theres anything they can do or say that wont make be believe they either

are making it up alla 'fix it in post' mentality trying to hastily explain stuff the game never bothers to do to try and appease fans or let it appear as if they thought about it at all

something went really REALLY wrong during development, which kinda seems likely given how the game turned out (im sorry i cannot let go, its not just the writing, the game design too and how little was changed in the map while being so damn expensive, i dont know how people dont feel scammed q_q)

given that they (allegedly) spent the last entire year of development on polish (where??? where????? huh??? like it would make it more understandable (EXCEPT for the price) if there was alot of trouble, which was also bc it got delayed and ... turned out like this, but they dont want to say it, especially given their reputation, with that quote i have heard way too many times 'a delayed game blah blah') i just??

are they just gonna go and do it like they did with kashiwa (kass)? "they uuuh where flying around the whole time ony cool sonau tech maschines, you just dont see or hear from them ooooorrr they were uuuuh out of the country at the time" (sending invitations to other continents to join their glorious kingdom ;) )

(bet they are also gonna say they did all the stuff like ... moving the shrines around (lol?) and lifting the islands up into the sky- which is still weird bc ... didnt they also say they were living in the sky before coming to the surface?? so where?? did they park all their islands on the surface and the mystery kids had the keys so they had to repark them back into the sky after they returned off camera?? xD also why are the islands so different as an environment if they where from the surface? like even the STONE up there is different- and if they were first in the sky then on the surface and the nback in the sky .. why is there not a single yellow tree or grass in the past- you cant really argue that it changed bc they were up there so long bc .. nothing else changed, the suddendly and totally always there sonau buildings are largely in prime condition, only some slightly moldy, and what we see of the glorious past looks barely any different from the present, aside from like ... some standard trees shuffled, no castle yet and that glowy uwu filter DESPITE that stupidly long time frame between it)

[riddlerosehearts]

thinking about how disney almost made a movie that was an adaptation of the myth of orpheus and eurydice except it took place in the ocean and orpheus was a humpback whale. and then they scrapped it specifically so they could adapt the classic gothic novel known as "the hunchback of notre dame" instead.