#i could NOT think of anything to write for it. so it was a challenge!

[fangbanger3000]

we need to talk about The Silence and The Song

as per my last post, i have received a lot of encouragement to go public with this, and the more disappointed people i have in my dms, the angrier i get. so i will.

the silence and the song is an ancient arlathan au DA fic on ao3 by luxannaslut, and it is partly, if not entirely, written by an ai. i have no wish to be involved in any kind of fandom drama or witch hunting or bullying, but as a writer myself there are few things that piss me off more than watching people steal the work of others because they can't be fucked to write. it's disrespectful to your fellow writers, it's disrespectful to your readers, and it's disrespectful to the authors of the works the ai is stealing from.

ai is a plague that has no business being in creative spaces and you must do better.

the writing pattern

there was something very odd and monotone about the sentence structure of tsats that i couldn't quite place, so i fed chatgpt a prompt along the lines of "two people in a fantasy novel hate each other, but they secretly desire one another, and they kiss", and the screenshots above are the results. the third one is an excerpt from chapter 40 of tsats. the writing pattern is identical and it doesn't seem like the "writer" has even bothered to pretend they wrote it. if you're going to use ai, at least be sneaky about it. you know, paraphrase a little.

nonsense descriptions

"her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision" (ct. 1), "his grip firm but tender" (ct. 33), "her gown pooling around her like embers" (ct. 1).

fingers don't make sound, so what does quiet precision mean? as opposed to what? her joints cracking with every movement? how is a grip firm but tender? what does that mean? since when do embers pool?

the entire fic is littered with these adjectives that contradict each other or just straight up do not make sense, because all an ai does is generate descriptive language with no understanding of what the words it's spitting out actually mean. i could spend hours picking out examples from the seven billion pages worth of text, but i quite frankly have better things to do and would simply challenge you to try getting through a chapter or two without noticing the pattern.

repetition at structure-level

all the scenes in this fic are described in pretty much the same way. they open with purple prose vomit of the surroundings; solas is standing somewhere looking "unreadable as ever"; ellana's fiery golden molten fire copper ember ginger red hair is flowing this and that way; there's some dialogue with whoever is present and it leaves ellana feeling different variations of "something she couldn't name". this is, once again, a blatantly obvious sign of ai. below is the result of me feeding chatgpt the line "write me a scene from a fantasy novel where a woman with red hair is sitting on the ground in a magical garden at night", and side by side with that is the opening scene of the fic. make your own judgement.

repetition at word-level

this one speaks for itself. we fucking get it. her dress is orange, her hair is red, mythal's presence is heavy in the room, solas looks unreadable, compassion is sitting on her head like a crown, solas' ears are betraying him and ellana's move with every thought she thinks. we get it. the issue here is that an ai remembers the info you feed it, but not necessarily the info it shits out. if it's being told to write scene after scene of an elven woman with a gown that looks like fire doing xyz, it's going to do so with no regard for how many times the reader has already been informed of these details.

lastly: the breakneck speed

359,6k words in four weeks by a person who allegedly is employed and married and hasn't pre-written anything? no. any writer will tell you that this simply isn't possible. it absolutely infuriates me to see how much praise this "writer" gets for posting up to three full chapters in a day without anyone calling bullshit. i am pulling out my hair, you guys.

why i'm not going to live and let live this one

perhaps i would be less angry if the fic was some silly bullshit court intrigue Y/A stuff, but this is a text that handles very heavy and triggering topics such as SA, coercion, domestic abuse, and other things of the same vein. to sit back and put your feet up while having a robot write these extremely sensitive and very real human experiences with words it has stolen from texts written by actual persons is fucking heinous. the "writer" should be deeply ashamed of themselves and i'm sick and tired of watching people eat up their bs.

and on that note: the amount of people in my dm's telling me that they feel stupid and naive for not clocking this has infuriated me more than anything else. you're not foolish for this. being fed ai-generated bullshit is not what is supposed to happen on any creative platform and much less a fandom-centred one, so of course no one approaches a fic through that lens. fandom and fic writing is supposed to be about passion and the only person in this situation who needs to do better and change their behaviour is luxannaslut. polluting our creative spaces, wasting the time of your readers, and minimising the effort of actual writers who are working hard to provide content for us all to share and enjoy is vile and so, so lazy. i beg of you: do better.

[gumisbwunni]

Satoru is soooo friends to lover

tysm for the support, i want to start writing other characters so lmk who i should write! ps. ignore any typos :/

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just think about it, that disgusting slow burn, like as you gradually grow with him. he knows you like the back of hand, he knows you.

he knows when youre upset, or when youre uncomfortable because you bite the inside of your cheek, and your eyebrows slightly furrow.

and he knows when he should step up and back down. He'll let you have your space if you ask for it but he also knows you need someone to lean on, and if thats hititng his chest angrily, crying on his shoulder, ranting your ass off, hell be there.

Satoru took a liking to you because, for once in his life, someone saw him. Not the prodigy, not the heir to the Gojo legacy—just Satoru, your best friend.

you never treated him any differently, even when everyone else put him on a pedestal. You were the one person who kept him grounded, and he didn’t even realize when he started falling for you.

maybe it was the way you’d laugh at his stupid jokes, or the way you’d roll your eyes at his antics but still always have his back. Maybe it was the way you challenged him, called him out when no one else dared to. Or maybe it was just… you.

and how could you not fall for him, too? He’s Satoru, your best friend who defends you no matter what, who lets you see parts of him no one else does. The one who’d do anything for you—even if you told him to jump off a cliff, he’d probably ask, “How high?”

but there’s always been this line between you, this unspoken agreement to keep things platonic. Until… it starts to crack.

it starts with the little things—like the way his jaw tightens when you talk about your dates, or how he goes suspiciously quiet when you get dolled up for some guy he already knows is a waste of your time. He hates seeing you walk out the door, knowing the night will only end with you disappointed yet again.

and when you come storming back, heels in hand, muttering, “You would not believe the nerve this guy had,” Gojo’s sitting on the couch, grinning like he knew it all along. Of course he did. The guy probably asked to split the bill or talked about himself the whole night. Gojo always hated the way these guys never saw you the way he did.

because if you were on a date with him, you wouldn’t need to bring a purse. He wouldn’t even let you think about paying. He’d take care of everything, because he’s just that guy.

but he knows he can’t—he shouldn’t. It’s a line he’s not supposed to cross, no matter how badly he wants to.

and yet… he catches himself thinking about the way your eyes light up when you look at him. Those big, doe eyes that make his heart stutter in his chest.

he hates when you’re mad at him, but at the same time, you look so cute when you’re all fired up that he can’t help but push your buttons, just to see you pout.

he'll beg for your forgiveness afterward, of course, but there’s a part of him that loves how your attention is all on him, even if it’s because you’re annoyed.

his feelings are a fragile balance, always sitting just at the edge of his tongue.

it only took one moment—one crack—and it all spilled out. He told you everything. How much you mean to him, how the thought of a life without you is unbearable.

and now that you’re officially his girlfriend, it’s like a dam has broken. He wants to spend every waking moment with you, like he needs you to fill his lungs, his thoughts, his everything. He needs you bad.

and, it’s no surprise to anyone—not Shoko, not Geto, not Nanami. They all saw it coming from a mile away. Everyone knew. Everyone but you.

[little-jana]

“Perfectly Thought Out”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Words: 1.15k

Summary: Finding the perfect gift for Spencer was not easy, but you did it.

It had taken you weeks to figure out the perfect gift for Spencer Reid. Weeks of mental back and forth, second-guessing, and doubt. Because really, what do you give someone like Spencer? A man with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and an endless well of knowledge? Someone who could rattle off obscure facts about obscure things before you’d even finished your coffee?

You’d been desperate to give him something thoughtful, something that wouldn’t just end up collecting dust on a shelf in his apartment. And you think you’d finally nailed it. Or at least, you hoped you had.

Now, standing in the BAU’s break room with a carefully wrapped box tucked under your arm, you felt your nerves kick in. This was the first chance you’d gotten to give him his present, and the anticipation was eating you alive.

“Hey,” his voice broke through your thoughts, soft but warm.

You turned to see him standing in the doorway, a slight smile tugging at his lips. His messenger bag was slung over one shoulder, and his scarf hung loosely around his neck, a hint of the autumn chill still clinging to him from outside.

“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “I, uh, have something for you.”

“For me?” His eyebrows lifted in surprise, his curiosity immediately piqued.

You nodded, holding out the box with both hands. “It’s… kind of a late birthday gift. I thought you might like it.”

Spencer set his bag down on the counter and took the box from you with the kind of care you’d use to handle something fragile. His long fingers brushed against yours briefly, and you tried not to think too much about the way it made your heart flutter.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said softly, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.

“I wanted to,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. “Just… open it.”

He hesitated for a moment, then carefully peeled back the wrapping paper, his movements methodical and deliberate. When he lifted the lid of the box, his breath hitched.

Inside was a leather-bound journal, hand-stitched and worn just enough to give it character. But it wasn’t just the journal itself that made it special. On the first page, you’d written a small note explaining that you’d already filled some of the pages with questions and prompts—things you thought he’d enjoy pondering or writing about. Things that would challenge him or make him smile.

And tucked into the back pocket of the journal was a collection of vintage fountain pens you’d spent weeks hunting down online, knowing how much he loved handwriting notes and letters.

He stared at the journal in stunned silence, his fingers gently tracing the cover. When he finally looked up at you, his eyes were wide and glistening.

“This is…” he trailed off, clearly struggling to find the words. “This is incredible.”

“Do you like it?” you asked nervously, biting your bottom lip.

“Like it?” he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. “I love it. This is… I don’t even know what to say.”

You laughed softly, relief flooding through you. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I wanted you to have something that felt like you. Something thoughtful.”

He opened the journal to the first page, his eyes scanning over the note you’d written. You watched as a small, almost shy smile spread across his face, and your chest tightened at how beautiful he looked in that moment.

“This is one of the most thoughtful gifts anyone has ever given me,” he said, his voice quiet but full of emotion.

You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze. “I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you. You’re always so thoughtful with everyone else, Spencer. I figured it was time someone returned the favor.”

He set the journal down on the counter and stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Really. This means so much to me.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your voice just as soft.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. And then, just when you thought you might drown in the tension, he reached out and pulled you into a hug.

It wasn’t just any hug, though. It was the kind of hug that made you feel safe, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest.

“Thank you,” he murmured again, his voice muffled against your hair.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to savor the moment. “You’re welcome, Spencer.”

When he finally pulled back, there was a softness in his expression that you’d never seen before. It made your heart ache in the best way.

“Would you…” he hesitated, looking almost nervous. “Would you want to come over tonight? I’d love to show you how I use the journal. Maybe we could talk about some of the prompts together.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. But the hopeful look in his eyes made it impossible to say no.

“I’d like that,” you said, smiling softly.

The grin that spread across his face was worth every second of doubt you’d had while planning his gift. And as you left the break room, your heart felt a little lighter, knowing that you’d made Spencer Reid feel as special as he deserved to feel.

[woozinhos]

Just the tip but vernon? 👀🐻‍❄️

Notes: god back to writing I love it hehe hope you enjoy <3

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Smut below the cut

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You and Vernon had been tired all day, having worked non-stop on a project that left you both exhausted. As the night fell, the fatigue began to fade and the desire for each other began to build. You both lay in bed, too tired to move much but too aroused to sleep. You turned to Vernon, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the room.

"I can't believe we're still so horny after all that work," you said, your voice husky with desire. Vernon chuckled, his hand tracing patterns on your bare skin. "Me neither," he replied, his eyes darkening with lust. "But I don't think I have the energy for anything more than just... the tip." You smirked at his suggestion, your body responding to the thought.

"Just the tip, huh?" you said, your hand trailing down his chest. "I think we can work with that." Vernon's breathing grew heavier as your hand continued to explore his body. He rolled on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. "You're such a tease," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "I've been wanting you all day." You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"I know," you said, your voice low and sultry. "I've been thinking about you all day too." Vernon kissed your neck, his tongue tracing a path down to your collarbone. He moved slowly, taking his time to tease you just as much as you had teased him. Vernon flopped onto the bed beside you, completely spent from the effort of just getting you aroused. He let out a deep sigh, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "God, I'm exhausted," he said, his eyes closing. "But you're so worth it." You laughed softly, turning onto your side to face him.

"We can finish this tomorrow," you said, your fingers gently tracing the contours of his face. "When we have more energy.” Vernon pouted, his eyes opening to look at you with a pleading expression. "But I need you now," he whined, his voice filled with need. "I can't wait until tomorrow. I want to touch you, taste you, make you feel good." You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, your own desire still burning strong.

"Are you sure you have the energy for that?" you asked, a hint of challenge in your voice. Vernon's eyes darkened again as he heard your words. "Just the tip," he repeated, his voice low and gravelly. "Please." You nodded, a sly smile playing on your lips.

"Okay," you said, scooting closer to him. "Just the tip it is." Vernon's hands moved with a sense of urgency, his fingers slipping under the fabric of your panties and pulling them aside to reveal your body to him. He looked at you hungrily, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. You could feel his gaze on you, burning with desire. He gently traced a finger along your sensitive skin, teasing you just enough to drive you wild.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Vernon slowly pulled himself out of his boxers, his erection springing free and hard as a rock. He stroked himself gently, watching your face as he did so.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he said, his voice thick with desire. He moved you onto your side, his body spooning yours from behind. His chest pressed against your back, his warmth enveloping you. He continued to stroke himself, his breath hot against your neck. He pushed one leg between yours, gently spreading you open for him. His hand moved to your hip, holding you steady as he positioned himself behind you.

"Are you ready for me?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. You nodded, your heart racing in anticipation. You could feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. Vernon slowly pushed himself into you, letting out a low moan as he felt the tight heat envelop him. He started to move his hips, slowly sliding the tip of his cock in and out of you. The sensation was driving you crazy, sending waves of pleasure through your body with every gentle thrust. Vernon's grip on your hip tightened as he moved, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your neck.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his words punctuated by the sound of your bodies moving together. He began to move faster, his thrusts becoming more urgent as his need for release built. He reached around to cup your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple as he continued to drive himself into you.

"Please," he begged, his voice ragged with desire. "Please let me go all the way. I need more of you." You could hear the desperation in his voice, and it sent a thrill through your body. You nodded, giving him the permission he needed.

"Do it," you whispered, your own need for him becoming too much to bear. "Fuck me properly." Vernon didn't hesitate. With a low growl, he pushed himself all the way inside you, burying himself to the hilt. He started to thrust harder, his hips snapping against yours with each movement. He lost himself in the sensation, his mind consumed by the pleasure of being deep inside you.

"Yes," you gasped, your voice filled with ecstasy. "Just like that, don't stop." Vernon grunted in response, his pace quickening even more as he felt you respond to his movements. He shifted his position slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts to hit that sweet spot inside you. He could feel you clenching around him, your body tightening with pleasure.

"You're so tight," he panted, his hand moving from your breast to your hip to hold you in place. "I can feel you taking me so well." He was getting closer and closer to the edge, the sound of your moans and the feel of your body driving him wild. He continued to thrust into you, his pace becoming more erratic as he neared his climax. He was struggling to hold on, but he wanted to bring you over the edge first.

"Come for me," he said through gritted teeth. "I want to feel you come around me." He reached down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and starting to rub it in quick, circular motions. The added stimulation pushed you closer and closer to the edge, your body tensing as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level.

"Vernon," you moaned, your body arching against him as you felt your orgasm approaching. "I'm so close. He continued to move against you, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he pushed you towards your release.

"Let go," he whispered in your ear. "Let it take you. I've got you." Your body convulsed as you finally reached your peak, your scream echoing through the room as your orgasm washed over you in waves. Vernon held you tight, his hips stuttering as he felt your walls clenching around him. He buried his face in your neck, muffling his own moans as he followed you over the edge, spilling himself deep inside you. You both lay there, panting and sweaty, as you slowly came down from your high. Vernon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder.

"That was wow," he whispered, his voice still husky with desire. You turned in his arms to face him, your eyes meeting his as you basked in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

[thewitchblue]

You eyed the family suspiciously. They are dressed too nicely. They don't even dress up this nicely for galas. Why do they look like they were in a fight but somehow appear so polished? As if they got into a fight, then went on a date.

Tim looked pretty normal, at least. It seems like Jason and Dick were able to gang up on him and capture him without much force.

You had been wedding planning with Tim in your apartment until he had to leave for patrol. He left your home with a kiss only for Dick and Jason to immediately kidnap him the second he was out of your window.

Apparently, Dick was feeling petty and wanted a surprise wedding since the engagement "wasn't a big deal."

Dick was petty the entire time. From the cheers to the toast to the vows he altered when he broke into Tim's room and your apartment, everything was very passive-aggressive.

It was a small and private wedding, and it was beautiful. He must have stolen your shared wedding plan that Tim insisted on writing down. Tim had said he needed all the details to refer back to when you both go to each place.

Bruce must have been in on it, as he told you to wear your wedding attire to check for tailoring needs at the manor, but you didn't expect the wedding to happen.

Nobody in the manor said anything despite your rapid questions until you had to walk down the aisle. Not even Alfred revealed what was going to happen.

Everything started clicking when you walked through the manor and saw all the decorations. You looked for Tim, who was squirming at the end of the aisle, his hands tied with a constrictor knot and a gag Jason happened to have mixed in his Red Hood gear (nobody asked questions). Jason had an iron grasp on his shoulders and had him lifted into the air, so he made no progress in running to you.

You shared a look with Tim as if to ask if he wants to continue the wedding. Tim looked flustered, but he stopped squirming long enough to nod. He's fine with getting married now, but he was incredibly anxious being unable to walk alongside you. He felt silly, but he wanted to be at your side, and he was willing to fight for it.

You, unsurprisingly, had Alfred walking you down the aisle. How did Dick manage to swear all the guests into secrecy? You know nothing was a coincidence.

Alfred had to borderline chase after you as you sped over to Tim with a grin. You'd have to applaud Dick for his efforts. Everything was perfect. It was exactly as you planned with Tim.

You laughed when you noticed the ring bearer was actually holding two painite rocks instead of rings. That was definitely Tim's idea. He has grown attached to rocks. He even told you he's going to make you a rock garden for your anniversary. He's already thinking about his future with you.

Tim calmed down significantly when you were at his side. Jason finally let him go, untied him, and stepped back into the background as if nothing had happened.

Tim gasped for air as he yanked off the gag. His glare promised a fight later, and Jason's answering smile felt like a challenge. You sighed. You can already imagine the photos of Tim dangling like a squirming puppy. You shouldn't have expected a normal wedding. It was really idealistic to think you could ever have a normal wedding in this family.

Your eyes turned to the gems with a fondness as you remember all the rocks you've given him through the years. All those memories will be immortalised. You remember every rock given and your thought process when you picked them up.

You both were handed your respective rocks, then your rings after trading rocks. You took a deep breath before saying,

"Tim, I give you yet another rock to love and cherish. I promise to keep giving you rocks until my last breath. You will always remember getting beat by your big brothers every time you look at the pair of gems, but one day, you will look at them like the best beat down you've ever experienced."

Tim gave a shrug and said he rated it,

"7/10. I could have fought more if my laptop wasn't my main priority."

Dick and Jason looked offended, but everybody else laughed.

"Tim, I promise my love for you will be as immortal as these stones and as fierce as an otter."

Tim laughed. He loved your little speech for him. You gave him a kiss to seal your vows, and he begins his,

"I told you rocks were for proposals when you gave me my now ring, and I'm happy to be here to tell you I was correct. I'm correct again in choosing you to spend the rest of my life with you."

Tim sounded incredibly amused. You laughed and hugged the gem closer. He twisted his wedding ring nervously as he continued,

"My love for you will be as permanent as the rocks you've given me. This rock rock isn't a diamond, but it's become more precious than any diamond in the world. You are my rock and my love."

Tim gave you a kiss to end his vows. He's never looked happier as he looked at you. You were his everything.

"I didn't realise this was a rock rock."

You teased. Jason called you both weird but he had too soft of an expression for the words to have any bite behind them.

Dick handed you both the paperwork and patted Tim on the back. Tim didn't trust him for one second and read the certificate to make sure Dick isn't legally binding him to anything besides you.

You also read the papers before signing anything. You love Tim, but you don't trust his brothers when they feel petty or slighted.

"'You are from now on required to inform Dick Grayson first about any future big commitments such as any potential future children.' Dick, are you serious?"

Tim sounded offended as he read the words outloud while you chuckled. Dick was still mad. You shook your head and asked him,

"How would we even hide a kid?"

Dick immediately said,

"The same way you hid your engagement."

Tim was irritated now as he said,

"We were engaged for an hour until you found out. Let it go."

Dick didn't let it go. He brought it up at any chance he could. Jason snapped first.

"Suck it up and shut up, Dickhead. I was right there and you weren't. Deal with it."

Jason then proceeded to chug his cup of vodka to calm his urge to punch Dick. You both left when the two brothers started to bicker with each other over Jason's drinking. Jason will forever be the little 10 year old kid to Dick.

"You're officially stuck with me now."

You said as you took his ringed hand in yours. He looked at your conjoined hands with a fond expression.

"I'm not stuck with you. I love you."

You tugged his tie lightly and dragged him into a kiss. You vaguely heard the drunken wolf whistles and cheers, but you didn't care. He's yours forever. That's all that matters to you at that moment.

This is a part two @hearts4mica requested. I may have had too much fun with it.

[steorrneleom]

BG3 Elven Names: A Watsonian Perspective

Amongst folks who like Astarion as a character, the meaning of his name is a common topic of discussion. The answer is typically that it is a variation of Astērion (Ἀστερίων), a Greek name meaning starry, which makes complete sense considering that he is likely a moon elf, but it is based in a language that does not actually exist in the Forgotten Realms. This isn’t a problem, a Doylist answer is completely valid, but I thought it would be fun to figure out what the meaning would be in Elvish (the D&D version), a Watsonian answer (1). After Astarion's, I set out to see if this could be done with Halsin and Cazador as well. I present here my results, with narrative. I have also included a TLDR at the end for those who want to skip the methodology.

(1) To any who may not be aware: Doylist means that it is what the author was thinking when writing / what their intention was. Watsonian means the in-universe perception / explanation. Example: Why did magic change so much between D&D 3.5e and D&D 4e? Doylist answer is that they wanted to simplify how magic worked to draw in new players. Watsonian answer is that Mystra was assassinated by Shar and Cyric resulting in arcane magic becoming unstable and changing its behavior.

In the Lack of Duolingo

First things first, I needed a resource for the Elven language in D&D. As with many collaborative canons, official uses of the language were spread through many mediums and over the course of decades. This makes hunting down sources difficult, but luckily a wonderful person by the name of Diane Morrison was kind enough to create ‘A Treatise on Espruar,’ which offers a complete dictionary. This is what I will be using:

A quick disclaimer that, also like with many collaborative canons, this language has inconsistencies and gaps which makes a true cannon language impossible until a complete conlang is officially released. What I present is to the best of our current resources.

Method to the Madness

I have the words, but next comes the challenge of using them. These names were not made to be interpreted in the lens I am using, so it is kind of like trying to fit a square peg in anything but a square hole. Some words can line up near perfect but have meanings that make absolutely no sense, like dragon royal world, or some words can have the right meanings but have the wrong letters. I resolved this with the following criteria:

The words used must be as close to the name as possible.

Sound shifts must be minimal and not drastic.

As few letter drops as possible.

A meaning that makes sense in context (as much as possible).

Key

Word / part of word Meaning

Astarion

Something noteworthy about Astarion’s name that I kept in mind when translating it is that it was his ‘child name’, the name that was given to him by his parents and not one he chose for himself (2). This means that the meaning wouldn’t necessarily be one that he himself liked, but rather one that a parent would like to ascribe to their child.

Searching for words, one almost seemed perfect at first: Aasterinian (meaning quicksilver). It was already so close to his name without having to Frankenstein words together, but sadly it broke nearly all of my rules. It had three letter drops and two sound shifts: er to ar and ian to ion. I also was of the opinion that while quicksilver was a fine name meaning, it wasn’t one that felt like it was meant for a child.

So, the next option was a combination of Aestar (meaning together or one heart) and -ion (meaning noble). I was hesitant of this one at first. The meaning I wanted to use for Aestar, heart, had seemed to be reserved for the context of marriage at first glance, but then I saw the name Araestar with its meaning of Goldheart. This is evidence that heart is valid for names as well.

Thus, my Watsonian idea is that Astarion’s name comes from Aestarion, which translates to noble heart. This only has one letter drop and a slight sound shift from Ae to A. I also personally think noble heart is a fitting meaning for a child’s name.

(2) Astarion’s tombstone has his name and states he was 39 when he ‘died’. Elves are typically considered adults and choose their new name when they reach the age of 100.

Halsin

Halsin was a bit of a hard one, where there were tons of possibilities but near all of them just didn’t fit right. Halsin is 350 years old, he would have presumably chosen his name with a meaning that represented him as a person. He, in my opinion, wouldn’t have a name that meant something random like weak brook or red. In addition, I had to find a combination of words that fit my rules.

So, I had to write down three prefix possibilities, five word possibilities, three suffix possibilities, and mix and match until I got something that met my criteria. I won't include my rejected combinations due to their number, but here are some reasons I rejected them: ‘r to l sound shift is too drastic’, ‘the on sound is too different from in’, and ‘though m and n are close in the IPA the sound shift feels too great’. Luckily, I did find a combination I was satisfied with in the end.

My Watsonian idea is that Halsin’s name comes from Halasan which translates to one who is free and wild. The ending of Halasan would likely be pronounced like in already so it would only be a letter change instead of a sound shift. The only other change needed would be a letter drop, the a in las.

Cazador

Now this name I went in thinking that it would be the true challenge, the 'z' felt distinctly non-elven to me, but much to my surprise D&D elven does have the z sound and letter. It was still hard to get a good meaning out of it, especially since it is unknown whether this would be his child name or his adult name and there was only one combination of words that worked.

The collection of words at my disposal were cas which means herald, -adar which means world, and za which means royal, of royalty. From this, I got Cazadar, which is a modification of Casadar that adds za. This would give a direct translation of herald of royalty world, which I feel would be interpreted as royal herald (to the world). It isn’t the cleanest meaning, but I feel like there is ego and world domination vibes to it, so it works.

A slight tangent, it is debatable how valid my overlapping construction is. It is possible that the shift from cas to caz would be seen as just a letter shift and not an addition of the word za. This wouldn’t be a problem, herald of the world is still a valid meaning for my purposes, despite it losing some of the ego. There is also the possibility that the za is seen but it results in the caz being interpreted as ca, a letter shift from ka which means dragon. Since there is no dor or dar in elvish, it is possible that it would be seen either as an ornamentation or a shortening of -adar, in which case the translation becomes dragon of royalty or dragon of royalty world. These meanings aren’t horrible in the case of a wrongful interpretation, but it doesn’t entirely make sense, and Kazaadar breaks the rules I imposed.

With all this being said, my Watsonian idea is that Cazador’s name comes from Cazadar, which can be translated to royal herald (to the world). This is the one name that I created that feels like a stretch, but I tried my best.

Last Names

I originally only did the first names when I decided to make this, but then I realized while typing all this that this probably wouldn’t be complete without trying the last names too... and so, I decided to give them a try. I sat down with the elven dictionary and felt the hope leave my body as soon as I wrote them down on my scrap paper. Ancunín, with a little accent on the ‘i’ and a super rare letter for D&D elvish, ‘u’; and Szarr, with two consonants (S and Z of all things) next to each other. I predicted a struggle, a struggle is what I got, and I fled the battle, unsuccessful. I was not able to find anything that met my rules… yet.

I will revisit this someday, but it will require a lot more research on Faerûn than I am able to put in right now, sadly. Here is the fun thing about last names, they are often more influenced by location as opposed to the ethnic origin of someone. Case and point: in the US a lot of folks changed their last name upon arrival to better fit in, or it was messed up enough times that they changed it for convenience sakes. Examples: Müller turning into Miller (a spelling change), Zimmermann becoming Carpenter (a direct translation), or going from Sadowski to Smith (A complete change to assimilate). They also have a different meaning convention compared to regular names to begin with, where they can be based on the location an ancestor lived, their occupation, or their nickname.

A Watsonian answer may exist for Ancunín and Szarr, but it would be rooted in where their families lived through the eras and other local languages that might have influenced the original elvish version. Like perhaps the location the Ancunín family is from has a predominant language which favors ‘u’ as a vowel. Maybe Szarr isn’t elvish at all and is an occupation name. I don’t know if I will be able to find a satisfying answer, but if I do one day I will be sure to post it.

Bonus

Espruar is the alphabet of the elvish language, which looks really cool in my opinion. Before I even started looking into the Watsonian origins of the names, I thought it would be cool to see what their names looked like written in it and so vectorized all the letters. Below are the character's names and their origin names written with Espruar.

Astarion

Aestarion

Halsin

Halasan

Cazador

Casadar

Cazadar

Little End Note

I want to thank everyone who read through my long explanations and tangents, I hope you enjoyed reading the thought process behind all of these ☺️. I also wanted to let you folks know that I am going to make another post soon with my vectorized Espruar alphabet so anyone can write with it should they want to.

TLDR

[itsmemuffy]

Booksmart

Prompt:"do you like that?" "i like anything you do." + person a wants to be even closer to person b, so they take their hands under person b's shirt and grabs their chest. (x)

Contents: Logan Howlett (any version) x gender neutral reader, established relationship, 110% fluff

Author's note: I have a few stories in the works that are becoming way longer than expected, so I wanted to challenge myself to write something quick and simple ♡

Your footsteps echoed through the room, shoes clacking against glossy hardwood panels. Logan sat at the far end of the couch where you were coming up behind him, not acknowledging your presence. He lounged with his feet up on the coffee table in a way Charles would never fail to scold him for.

Of course, the man knew you were there. Logan had the beat of your walk memorized– steady strides with an eagerness in your step. He could practically see the sway of your hips from just listening to the sound. Still, the train of thought he was riding needed to get to it's destination before anything else. He wouldn't allow his focus to be broken just yet.

Firmly in his grasp was an old, weathered paperback. You doubt he found it in that condition. Perhaps it was something that has been in his possession for a long time. As you made your way around the couch, you watched Logan's eyes zig-zag as they moved down the walls of text.

He reads at a measured pace, taking in each word and their relation to another. Just as Logan turned to the next page, he feels you slump down into the cushion next to him. Still focused on his book, he gently placed his free hand on your knee to placate you for the time being.

You leaned into his side with a sigh of relief. Today had been a long one for the both of you. Now that you were beside him, all that tension finally had a chance to melt away. Logan felt the same as he traced lazy circles on your thigh. He wishes he was able to make time for more moments like these.

"I am starting to think I'm less interesting than a dead guy from the 18th century," you whine in faux offense, wrapping yourself around Logan's heavy arm.

He lets out an affectionate hum, sparing you a glance from the corner of his eye. "19th century, darlin'. Not too long ago, mind you." Logan shakes his arm out of your grasp to blanket it around your shoulders, pulling you in closer. "Ya got Thoreau off by 'bout a hundred years," he lowly rumbles into your ear, making you giggle.

Not too long ago? you thought. Maybe in the grand scheme of things, yes. But Logan's perpective throws you for a bit of a loop sometimes. Oh, how you wish you had the ability to peek into his mind. You've gotten closer to Logan than most people in his drawn-out life ever have, yet all you get is pieces of his story. Nothing even close to the full picture.

Even in his strong embrace, you longed to be closer. You wait until his attention is drawn back into the world of his novel. Then, you sneak your hands under the layers of clothing; his jacket, his flannel, his shirt, and finally his tank.

You run your palms from his stomach up to his chest, fingers combing through the thick fields of hair. Logan shifts and flexes under your touch. He pretends his focus hadn't been broken until the gentle scrape of your nails across his pecs illicits a deep grumble from his throat.

"Do you like that?" you tease, finally achieving the desired amount of closeness (or something near enough to it).

Logan turns his neck to look at you head-on. "I like anything you do," he replies. He stamps your lips with delicate kiss, letting your deliberate strokes to his torso hypnotize him until the end of the chapter.

[xxmysticxxx]

Guys I'm not even a writer, like i don't write frfr but if I don't release this zoro rant...IM GONNA GO CRAZY

But you know something? It's more than just tall tan and handsome, it's more than yeah he looked good, he's sexy he's handsome he's muscular

It's his strength, are we gonna pretend he didn't just cut through IRON?? TITANIUM??? bro he cuts through air, I don't think you understand he weilds a sword in his mouth. During his free time he's either training or sleeping, his muscles are only proof of his hard work

Speaking of hardwork, he's one of the most hardworking man I've ever seen. His downtime being spent training, any battle/enemy being seen as a challenge, a chance to hone his skills and talents. All for what? To chase his dream. His only purpose in life, every single breath he takes is dedicated to completing that dream. He's a man of his word, he's here to fulfill his promise, one that he made so many years ago that he refuses to break. He's the most admirable member of the crew, the definition of strength and determination. If anything I look up to him, he's such an outstanding example of what to be. I wanna be just like him, I wanna do everything he does, I wanna be just as good as him even if all I receive is a simple good job from him.

I could never love anyone the way I love Roronoa Zoro.

_________________

There's probably spelling errors cuz I was delirious when writing this but you understand 😔

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

What kind of stories did Sami hear about Wally while he was missing? Did different perspectives give him different ideas of who he was? (e.g. Stories told from his mom Vs Sector V Vs from the KND 'sector v' lore )

I was preparing sketches for this ask, that's why it was taking so long... then I started typing and saw how LONG it was getting, and decided to do it without the pics because it would be too much so... sorry 😞

Anyway! Details under read more!

Sector V:

Nigel: "You father... he was... well... he was really strong and brave. He never backed up from a challenge and usually was the first one getting into them. Which, you know... sometimes it wasn't the smartest decision. Sometimes it would get all of us in trouble. But somehow, he also knew how to take us all out of it. He made a lot of mistakes... and I mean, A LOT... and I miss them. I miss every single one of them.

Hoagie: "Wally? He was something, let me tell ya, kid! He couldn't be contained, and I tried MANY times, ahah! He was always active, you would never see him rest or just still! Sometimes we had to jump on him and just, hold him down, and even THAT was a struggle! But he had a BIG heart. He was... a bit of a dum dum, but he was good! We all loved him a lot... I loved him a lot... we used to talk a lot about various things. I miss those days..."

Abby: "Your father was... not the sharpest tool in the shed... or in anywhere, let's be honest. Sometimes I could repeat the same thing to him over and over and he would STILL not get it AT ALL. Or do the exact opposite of it. You don't know how many times I saved his behind from bad grades by reminding him to do his homework. But y'know, it wasn't all his fault. Sometimes I knew he did his best but it was just not enough. We all knew he was just too overactive to think straight, and maybe with some... help... things would be different..."

Family:

Sydney: "Ahh, your dad was really great, ya know? He was full of energy! Always jumping around the house and running and playing! I loved staying outside and watching him play, it always cheered me up! And even better when we played together! And he was really brave, no matter what challenge he could face, he would face it without hesitation! That is, unless it was grandma being angry, ahah! Ah.... I'm sure one day he'll be back... I know he will..."

Lou: "Annoying. Loud. Violent. Dumb. An idiot on legs. You didn't take anything from him... except his strength. I might've not liked him that much, but he had that... strength in him, that will never back down and fight for what he believed in that... I always admired. I know I always talk trash about him, but... I miss him. At least we can be reminded of him if we look at you."

Charlie: "Your dad was a challenge. There, I said it! He was really impossible to deal with! School was constantly calling me or your grandpa because he got into trouble or did something he shouldn't have been doing! He made me scream a lot! But... he was my baby... he is still my baby... I just hope one day he will forgive me and come back..."

Joey: "Wally is awesome! I love him so much! He's the best big bro one can ever ask for! Maybe a bit annoying but I mean, all big bros are, so! You'll see, you'll have so much fun with him when he's back! Just don't tease him too much or he'll hurt himself, ahah!"

Kuki

"Your dad... was my world. He was everything I needed and everything I wanted. He was strong, he was good, he knew what he wanted and how to obtain it. He always knew what to say in every situation, to make me sad, to tease me a bit or to express how much he loved me without directly saying it. He didn't like to say it, so he would just, cheer me up, buy me something I wanted, write little notes during class that said something sweet... or... something he thought was sweet... but I still appreciated it. I tried to do the same for him; to be there and help as much as I could... but maybe it wasn't enough...

I'll never know... or maybe one day I will. Knowing him, maybe one day he will come back just to prove everyone he could do it! Wouldn't surprise me! And that day, we will be really happy! I'm sure you'll love your dad as much as we all do!"

BONUS

"So... I met him, I think? Once, I don't remember where or when, but I did! And he was... an annoying teenager. He would scream and kick around, but NOT when Joey was there! He turned into a completely different person when Joey was around, he was nicer and funnier! Nigel always told me he had a good heart but unfortunately, as we know, as you grow up you become an assh-... I mean... a meanie to kids, sometimes.

I also remember that he was happy you were coming out! Like, he would always tell Nigel how he was happy and a bit scared because he didn't know if he was gonna be a good dad. Then I would tell him "OF COURSE YOU WILL!" and he would smile!

I remember the day he disappeared. He was happy because he was getting a new job that would allow him to make you happy. I don't know how, adult jobs NEVER make kids happy, but he was more than sure it would. I told him to be careful because you never know around adults and he laughed and said not to worry and then said bye.

I wanted to follow him but Nigel stopped me because this was not KND business. Maybe I should have done that..."

"... how do you know this many things about my dad, Penny?"

"... I just do? DUH!"

[swan2swan]

Again, a lot of good points, but I'm going to clarify/counter a few:

I think Sammy probably just had a basic meat diet. She's either got ancestry in Mexico or Brazil (possibly both), so meat's just going to be big in the diet. Carnitas, tamales, birria, picanha, tacos, there's a thousand traditional meals made with meat (but multiple of which have vegetarian alternatives, so she's not wholly out of luck). Meat is just...there.

Her family having one ranch with multiple subleased farms wouldn't be out of the question; if they had to sell off even one of their subsidiaries, that could lose them contracts with Masrani and others. It's a competitive and demanding business. It wasn't that her family was about to get tossed out on the street or anything, but that their business was going to collapse (which also might seem exceptionally frightening for a fourteen-year-old). It should also be noted that whatever settlement money Sammy's family might have received for her wrongful death was not enough to save the ranch--we're talking possible debt of millions, maybe tens of millions. They might have needed to renegotiate with Masrani, but it's possible that whoever was repping him (Daniel?) might have been deliberately rejecting offers to force them to sell to a shell company like MantahCorp.

Also, writing tip: keeping it vague is good. The vaguer they keep the monetary amount, the more flexible they are and the less they can be challenged by experts. Maybe if they had a huge finance nerd on the writing crew, they could get specific, but...the point is, her family was short a LOT of money. Maybe a strain of flu hit their cows in 2014 and they lost a couple hundred animals, maybe a hurricane hit and knocked down a barn, whatever the case, they needed money.

3. Is there a more humane way to kill a goat than the crushing teeth of a Tyrannosaurus? One chomp, and it's over. No bleeding out, no pain, boom, death. Quick and natural. Don't forget that Rexy also spent a lot of time hunting on her own, so using live prey was probably essential to treating her humanely.

As for the pig, that was part of the demonstration. They needed to show that Owen was capable of calling the raptors off from hunting live prey. The animal was never supposed to ACTUALLY get eaten (like the cow in Jurassic Park, that's more problematic)--it just got loose. The pig was a participant in the activity, one that didn't endanger a human life or teach the raptors that it's okay to chase humans.

I'm sure Sammy had a ton of hands-on experience with things, and she'd probably seen animals die (assuming she helped with birthing and raising calves, and that's always going to have some failures), but the worst she probably ever saw as far as the death side of the industry was chickens getting the chop or varmints being shot (like you said).

But the bottom line is also that Sammy doesn't seem to think that livestock raising and slaughter is wrong; she gathers up the oysters just fine. I think it's just her own personal preference. Because, like you said...she saw humans getting eaten. She's seen too much and she just can't separate it. So she's no longer comfortable eating meat.

It could also be something as simple as Control: if she can choose her diet and stick to it, she knows that she's got choice, and that means power. She spent a significant portion of her teenage years scavenging for berries and tearing open cans with her bare hands: knowing that she doesn't HAVE to eat something probably means a lot to her. Being able to choose her own diet is a way of asserting herself.

Eating meat was never a core part of Sammy's character? She wasn't walking around talking about how she only likes hamburgers, or she would kill for a steak, or cracking beef related puns, or anything that would indicate "I like eating meat" is a core personality trait the same way running is to Yaz or dino facts are to Darius. The core personality trait is her devotion to her family on the ranch, where yes they process cattle for food, but that doesn't make eating meat an ingrained part of your DNA lol.

Sammy saw a lot of animal suffering and death on Nublar and beyond, its understandable why she would maybe want to become a vegetarian. I'm not even a vegetarian, I think you're just wanting to see something that's not there.

What about the time Sammy said "I love nothing more than steak and Yasmina, and I'm all out of steak" and then proceeded to suplex a Scorpius Rex

[mamawasatesttube]

For the wrapped game, 100?

100. Something I Need - OneRepublic

Lois watches her husband (her husband!) make his way out of the hotel bathroom. The bruises on his face and chest have darkened over the last few hours, but the cuts and scrapes look much less horrifying after he's washed away all the blood. He catches her gaze, and his whole face lights up with a smile.

It's not fair, she thinks. The evening sunlight splashing across his skin from the open balcony doors should be healing him. These wounds should never have even happened.

He grabs a shirt from the suitcase on the stand and tugs it on as he walks towards the balcony, towards her. A warm Hawaiian breeze sends it fluttering around his waist as he fiddles with the buttons. He's so focused on them that he trips over the doorway and stubs his toe with a muttered curse, and her heart twists even as she laughs. It's been weeks, months, since she learned he lost his powers, but it still feels wrong. Since when can Clark Kent stub his toe?

"Come here," she says, pushing herself up from her wicker chair. She reaches for him, helps him finish the last of the buttons; she leaves the top two open and lets her hands fall to his waist instead as she looks up at him. "There you go."

He looks amused as he rests one big, warm hand on her shoulder. "You didn't button all of them up."

Lois quirks a smile up at him, leans up on her toes, and kisses the corner of his mouth. "I'm a woman on her honeymoon, darling. Surely you wouldn't begrudge me the view?"

He laughs, although (to her delight) his cheeks go pink, too. "I would never."

She leads him back to the wicker bench, tugs him down, and curls into his side. His arm is warm around her shoulders, and she tucks her bare feet up against the wicker. The sunset over the Pacific is breathtaking, but it hardly holds a candle compared to the love of her life, safe and sound at her side.

Her husband, she thinks again. The sunlight feels warmer on her skin.

[theclownghoul]

I still really love Act l of Arcane Season 2 and I was so hopeful with how everything was set up and I still think everything is the first Act was good, approaching Season 1 level.

However now that we have the whole season I’ve seen a lot more people start to interrogate the writing, specifically of Cait and Vi.

I was first to defend the way things were done in act l but now that we have the rest of the story it puts many of the choices in a different light and it’s definitely worth criticism.

It remains me a lot of how I feel about Wasteland, the scene of Ekko talking Jinx down. The scene itself is great, stunning and really shows the care both of them have for each other despite all they’ve been through. Ekko not giving up on her because he sees her value where she sees a curse. It’s interesting to see that at her lowest she doesn’t bother to hide that she cares deeply about him. It’s good (though objectively should have been longer) and in isolation I appreciate it.

Retroactively it leaves a sour taste in my mouth. After the ending and Jinx “sacrifice” (that’s set to the same song) I feel like the writers really didn’t care about Jinx coming back from rock bottom with her supports (not seeing anything in between doesn’t help this). She dies and it’s framed the same way as all of her previous attempts and now it’s framed as good. It poisons the scene with Ekko the same as Vi’s later writing poisons her decisions in Act l. Because we now know they don’t care and were not going to be responsible with what they were depicting.

That scene also seems to be unnaturally beautiful, combined with the glorification of Jinx’s sacrifice it’s sickening. They wanted a spectacle and that was what they chose to debut the Z -Drive….

Even the good parts have to be called into question after the later decisions.

[necrotic-nephilim]

Hey there, are you ok?

hey! thank you for checking up on me, this was really sweet!

i SWEAR i did not die. i just got a bit busy doing SladeRobin Week (which i will finish so help me god-) as well as things in my real life. i'm still trying to find the balance of like. fandom creation and working. i am very lucky to have the living situation that i do rn, but it is the sort of schedule where i do have to be ready to watch a baby at really any given point so. it's a tricky balance right now, but i'm going to be active here again! maybe not as many asks answered a day as before, but i want to try to answer like, a few a day and whatnot.

i also think i got briefly overwhelmed, in that i got more asks faster than i answered them. which is the opposite of a problem and something i'm very lucky for! but it did make it difficult for me to keep up and know what to answer next. (this is *not* a discouragement to sending asks! i love them all and pls send as many as you want! i just am a little slow sometimes so i appreciate the patience! <3)

so! i'm back and i'm good, ty for asking! we are back to the regularly scheduled programming <3

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

every day i wish the princesses had like any character at all and werent just there to be girlfriends

[beanghostprincess]

A lil question: What do you all think about Ko-fi for writers? The writer being obviously me, lmfao.

I've seen quite a huge, huge increase in the amount of asks I get per day, usually with prompts and concepts that, even if they're not for fanfiction technically and anons aren't asking for them, it's quite obvious that they're asking me to give my opinion or to write something based on that. Because you all know I always end up writing fanfics about asks or just a long, long analysis that could end up being a fic. Anyway- The thing is, I gladly do it for free because I absolutely love it and those are not commissions or people actively asking me for fanfics. But I was thinking that if there are so many people interested in my views and writing (apparently you all like my writing and want more, which is, wow, fucking awesome to me) maybe you'd be interested in me opening a Ko-fi?

It would work kind of like this (please, if somebody has more ideas, tell me. I have no idea how these things work and it'd be great if you could help):

Ko-fi for donations and commissions. Simple as that. Because I want to write my own original book and I also keep writing fics. It's a good way for some of you to donate if you ever feel like supporting me and my work. Because, I mean, let's be honest, I need the money. It's not directly paying for a service, just donating to motivate me to keep writing! And then I'd just take commissions of whatever fandom I'm in (or damn, maybe you want me to write something original with a concept of yours!). The commissions would be posted anyway in my AO3 account however, they'd be that, commissions for the people who specifically want me to write something they want. I don't have in mind yet how the prices would go, but you would not pay for a genre of fic, but for the amount of words. Like, you pay an amount of money for 5k-10k words and more money if you want something in between 10k-20k (with obviously a range. Dw, I'll think about it) etc, etc, etc.

I am aware of the whole stigma surrounding fanfic writers profiting off their fics, but I am not selling anything, actually. Ko-fi would be for donations to support me and commissions.

Let me know what you think, please, because when I say I get a ton of asks per day I am not joking and I thought "oh, well, if people like my opinion/writing so much they'd be willing to pay a lil bit for new, specific content". That being said, you can send asks like normal and I will always give my opinion on things and even write fanfics if I like it a lot, but if you truly, really want me to write something for you, I could open commissions.

[lazaruscorpse]

things i'm currently thinking about

jason being both little red riding hood and the wolf

jason being nicknamed little wolf (possibly by crime alley)