#remember to stay civil

[dragonfire42]

Can I also just say kudos for all the mods moderating Good Omens discussions today

[wardenswateringhole]

Oi. This is getting fascinating.

I never developed an intense infatuation with the skeleton king as other people did. I honestly thought his reign had ended long ago, thrown to the poor attempt at market targeting of Hot Topic.

Now that the brackets have been randomized, I do have to wonder if Ingo just got super lucky in his matchups last time.

My loyalty lies with Ingo but I'll tip my hat and applaud whoever wins. I'll still love Ingo, win or lose.

He and Emmet will always be my sexymen.

[criminalcase-confessions]

"Andrea should've fired Frank a long time ago because of his rudeness and drinking" You all say you want complicated characters and yet aren't willing to admit certain things are apart of that character's flaws. Yes, Andrea should've given some sort of punishment to Frank for his behaviour even pre-Paradise City, but you all are forgetting the fact a whole aspect of her character is that she struggles to see the bad in people she cares about. She does care about Frank a lot, no matter if you look at it from a platonic or romantic POV, and this care for Frank makes her look past his flaws as he does get the job done and she has likely known him for a while now. Also, you all are so adamant with her firing Frank, but if she kept that same 'no fucking around and doing dumb shit' standard up for the rest of the crew we wouldn't have Hannah because of what happens in inner city, we wouldn't have Roxie because of her constant joking about the dead, etc. My point is, you all keep on making the whole 'Andrea should've fired Frank' argument while not understanding that she is like that because of how much she cares about the team, especially Frank.

Post In Question

🔎

[kay9leo]

Boggart

Because at 14, everything feels so long and permanent. Especially when the future is uncertain.

Honestly this was inspired by this post asking about your MC's boggart. I always figure that my MC's would fall into a more similar vein like Hermione where her boggart represents more of a symbol/idea.

When read up on reddit on Hermione's boggart was Professor McGonagall, someone pointed out saying that it's more of a symbolic thing when you look into it under a deeper light. With Professor McGonagall saying she failed all her classes, Hermione could get expelled from Hogwarts and get her wand snap. Essentially denying her from the wizarding world.

Since Hermione -a muggleborn witch- wants to belong in the wizarding world (when the muggle world rejected her), she is trying to prove that she deserve to belong in the wizarding world through her grades and by being at the top of her class. Hermione failing her classes could risk her getting kicked out and getting her wand snap. The McGonagall boggart failing her is symbolic of her true fear - belonging no where.

While Hermione a girl trying to belong somewhere and doesn't want to be kicked out, Iñaki is a girl who's afraid that she'll never go back home.

What's a more permanent way of saying you aren't returning to your home country by getting a passport (symbolizing that you got naturalized) of your adopted country? More about Iñaki "MC" Martinez Cariaga

[mindhowyougo]

caroline and gwen, which mother figure can cause morse the most pain and anger: FIGHT

[cashewally-sarcastic]

Do you ever think about that one sunchild who was skillful with a lyre. Do you think when the shade of time checked in on their creation, seeing them stand beside a similar musician, her heart sank deeper than her forgotten city's roots. History always repeats itself, she knew this. She was the embodiment of this. She knew this could only end in tragedy.

That hollow feeling only amplified itself once her wings' eyes spotted her child playing that bard's song

The fact that the sunchild's name was Orpheus 😔

I do wonder if there's some sort of connection w/ the Sunchildren and the archons, and if Isaroth is just watching from the sidelines. Can she do anything? Does she have to rely on humans? On outlanders? Does she still care, after all this time with all these cycles?

[running-in-the-dark]

okay. so. I spent 6 hours talking to my mother today. somehow I survived.

the cruelest thing was that around the fifth hour she started being really nice and almost like a person I would like to talk to even if I didn't have to. really seemed to get some of the things I had said earlier.

and then when I was leaving - as in, literally putting my shoes on - she got this look on her face and said '.. and next time I want to ask you why you don't like me' as if that's totally normal. no hint of that the entire time we were talking or anything. 🙃

[reginrokkr]

◜O Almighty Sovereign, the Universitas Magistrorum has provided the predictions you requested: The two stars have been captured by the world's gravity... After a lengthy orbital period, today their paths shall intertwine once more.◞

𝐂𝐗𝐗𝐗. Before this patch there was a mention in one of the Achievement name card about the Universitas Magistrorum, which, being the first time it was ever mentioned, it's natural to not know too much what to do with it. But upon further inspection in this recent patch about part of the studies the Narzissenkreuz Ordo were doing in order to see through their experiment in Neohumans first before diving into merging all souls into one and controlling the Primordial Sea (and other investigations of interest such as the Abyss and ancient civilizations), I'm nearly convinced to say that the Universitas Magistrorum of Khaenri'ah could be a good contender of an analogous to Sumeru's Akademeia.

◜Criticizing the Universitas Magistrorum for putting the cart before the horse, neglecting the fundamental principles underlying everything, and diving straight the details of how to put those techniques to use... How they inverted even the alchemical stages for other purposes...◞

Based on this quote, it seems that the information that a sector of Khaenri'ahns discovered (I say this and not everyone, because I'm an advocate that not everyone were into shady stuff) also manipulated it to their convenience.

◜..."Red" is the foundational principle, the philosopher's stone, while "yellow" represents gold and mortal temptation. Yellow is simply bait. Red is the final goal. However, Khaenri'ah would likely seek the truth for gold's sake before turning that truth into a bread production pipeline...◞

Just as they seem to have twisted the Opus Magnum and potentially the Art of Khemia in itself in pursuing gold / yellow as their concept of perfection which isn't entirely baseless either, as in alchemy gold was considered perfection (I suspect this is also why Rhineddotir is known as Gold, perhaps she reached the furthest in alchemy and the Opus Magnum in being able to create human life as per Albedo's words).

Overall, I find it heavily interesting that Khaenri'ah seemed to be highly proficient not only in the Art of Khemia or war, but also in knowledge despite how suspicious it is what they treated as truth in their own twisted way. Furthermore, I would also be nearly convinced that they also practised Astromancy (and coincidentally, Narzissenkreuz Ordo documents did talk about different kinds of this art). Looking into this, it's no wonder that Dain would say that Khaenri'ah was the humankind's pride.

[jackwhinesandfavabeans]

Ngl To/tk is rising among the ranks of games like 3h where I'm becoming convinced ppl played a different game than I did based on their hot takes

[hellogoodbyeitsme]

You really can tell people that you'll cut a person out or block them when they cross the line with you but they will NOT listen because they're so used to people saying it and not meaning it

[caoimhe-from-hoenn]

Do you need anything? Checking in.

@suddenlyauntiemaya

boy howdy i wish i knew what we were getting into so i could properly answer, but sorry, i have no idea what we need right now.

i hate that i have to be so vague but shit went down somewhere and if i dont come back you all were real

except for you team plasma, team snow, team whatever, go fuck yourselves

[evil-ontheinside]

When your dad is in a pissy mood and you're finally fed up enough and ask him why he's even living with you (and your mom) if it's such a hazard to be civil and he answers "sometimes you make mistakes"

Congrats, my man, I don't know how you did it, but you just unlocked the worst dialogue option in the whole game!

[penwrythe]

Anyway, a good reminder to stay safe online and be extremely careful what you post or reblog. Stay safe while protesting and boycotting. Please.

Also, there's this site I saw a while back, Palestine Legal, that can help with defamation and harassment.

Also, give this article a read please to understand what's happening to pro-Palestinian protesters and activists.

[harrysfolklore]

did you see that video of tom holland pushing the paparazzi off zendaya? Yeah I thinking about something similar but with Charles Leclerc x famous!reader

something short and sweet bc i'm not posting a new fic this week but i hope you enjoy it!

The flash of cameras was something you were used to, but tonight felt different. As you stepped out of the car at the prestigious event, Charles' hand firmly in yours, the crowd of paparazzi seemed more aggressive than usual. The combination of an A-list actress and a Formula 1 star had created a media frenzy.

"YN! Over here!" "Charles! This way!" "Are you two official?" "YN, how does it feel dating a racing driver?" "Charles, what's it like dating a Hollywood star?"

The shouting was overwhelming, and despite your years of experience handling red carpets, you felt yourself tense as the photographers pressed closer, their cameras mere inches from your face.

"Stay close to me," Charles murmured, his thumb stroking reassuringly over your knuckles.

"I'm used to this," you whispered back, trying to maintain your composed smile.

"I know, but this is crazy even for me."

You felt Charles' grip on your hand tighten protectively as one particularly aggressive photographer pushed forward, nearly causing you to stumble in your heels.

"Watch it!" Charles snapped, his accent thickening with anger as he steadied you. In an instant, his demeanor changed from polite to protective. He moved swiftly, positioning himself between you and the crowd.

"Back off," he said firmly. "I said back off! You're being too aggressive."

His arm wrapped securely around your waist, creating a barrier between you and the chaos. "That's enough. We'll pose for photos, but give us space."

"Charles, it's okay," you tried to soothe him, though you appreciated his protection.

"No, it's not okay," he responded, his jaw clenched. "They don't get to push you around just because you're a public figure."

The authority in his voice made several photographers take a step back. You could feel the tenseness in his body as he guided you through the crowd.

"Almost there," he assured you quietly. "Just a few more steps."

"YN! One more shot!" "Charles! Look this way!" "Are you living together?"

"Just ignore them," you whispered to Charles, sensing his growing irritation.

As you finally reached the relative safety of the venue's entrance, Charles's posture relaxed slightly, but his protective hold remained. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, completely ignoring the renewed frenzy of camera flashes the gesture triggered.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his green eyes scanning your face with concern. "I've never seen them this aggressive."

"I'm fine," you assured him, straightening his tie affectionately. "I'm used to it, remember? Though I have to admit, having my own personal bodyguard is nice."

He smiled softly, but his eyes remained serious. "Nobody gets to treat you like that," he said, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "Not even if they have cameras. I don't care if it's part of the job."

"My hero," you teased, trying to lighten his mood.

"I'm serious, mon coeur. I know this comes with both our careers, but there's a line."

In that moment, despite the chaos around you, you couldn't help but smile. You'd dealt with aggressive paparazzi before, but having someone who instinctively moved to protect you, who prioritized your comfort over the perfect photo op - that was new.

"Thank you," you said softly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "For having my back."

"Always," he promised, taking your hand again. "Ready to go face the slightly more civilized cameras inside?"

You laughed, squeezing his hand. "Lead the way, Leclerc."

[pogueprincess]

Out Of The Woods

summary: The war is over and Rhaenyra’s daughter gets a fresh start in The North.

pairing: Cregan x Targaryen!Reader

word count: 842

warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, grief, RIP Jace <\3

note: Sooo……. It appears that I’m in Cregan Simp Mode

It is a brighter day than usual when your labors start. The sun even begins to peak behind the clouds, casting a gorgeous gleam over Winterfell. It has been six months since the civil war between your family has ended and it seems as though the smoke-like grief that clouds your mind is finally beginning to clear. After all of your pain and suffering, you are now far away from Dragonstone and even farther away from King’s Landing. As your younger brother sits the Iron Throne, you have a hope for a peaceful realm. As well as hope that you and Cregan will finally be able to start anew.

Things are different in Winterfell, especially now that the dance has ended. There is no pressure for your babe to have silver hair or violet eyes. No pressure for it to be born with a cock. All that matters is that the babe is healthy. Your child will not suffer the same hardships as you and your siblings once did.

You can hear heavy footsteps outside of the chamber as Cregan paces restlessly. While you endure another hour of labor, you try to keep your mind elsewhere. Your gaze is fixed on the flicker of the candle that sits in the chandelier above your head.

One of your earlier memories is your mother being in labor with Joffrey. You remember wincing at her screams and placing judgement on the names she called her midwives. Now you don’t blame her. You even admire her for going through this so many times. You miss her terribly.

Your hand grips tightly onto the wooden headboard as you try your hardest to listen to the instructions of your midwife.

“Push into the pain,” she advises you, “when the pain is at its worst, that’s when you will want to push the hardest, my lady.”

Your knees are at your chest, a thin layer of sweat covers your entire body, and your once white nightgown is now stained red. You inhale deeply as you brace yourself for another painful contraction.

And just like that, it’s happening again. It begins as a dull ache in your spine that eventually overtakes you completely. It feels as if you were being torn to shreds. Your muscles begin to spasm and each wave of pain is worse than the last.

A particularly loud scream echoes out into the hallway and it has Cregan bursting through the door into the room, his auburn brows furrowed.

“This is not the place for men, my Lord,” your midwife sternly warns him.

“I do not care! What’s happened?”

“Nothing!” you bark at him, your teeth gritted. This is a pain he is unable to comprehend.

“I’m fine, we’re fine. It just hurts. That’s all.”

Cregan frowns at you as he comes to stand at your side.

“My lord—” your midwife tries to interject once again.

“I’m staying.”

He keeps true to his word and remains at your side for the rest of your labor, despite your midwife’s wishes — earning him many dirty looks.

Another painful contraction comes and the pain is mind blowing. But it seems to be the light at the end of the tunnel. You bring your chin down to your chest and push with all of your might. You push as if your life depends on it, because it does.

“That’s it, my lady! Perfect. I can see the babe already, a full head of hair,” she states.

Just when you swear you cannot push anymore, you feel sudden relief and loud cries fill the room.

“It’s a boy,” your midwife declares, and Cregan squeezes onto your hand tightly.

“And he is one healthy pup! With quite the set of lungs!” she adds.

About an hour later, once you are moved from the birthing bed and all cleaned up, you sit in your large bed that you and Cregan share. Your babe is cozily bundled up and suckling at your breast, his tiny gums gnawing at your flesh.

“Do we have a name for him?” Cregan asks you as he comes to take solace beside you, peering down at the tiny babe.

“I’m not quite sure yet,” you reply, your mind still hazy, your heart full, “did you have something in mind?”

“I was thinking… he holds a striking resemblance to your brother. What do you think?”

You glance down at your newborn son. An angelic face matched with tiny wisps of dark hair that threaten to grow into a thick head of curls.

“Oh,” you coo, “yeah… yeah, he does, doesn’t he?”

Cregan smiles widely at you, in a way that makes your heart want to burst right out of your chest.

You and Cregan both held great love for Jacaerys. It was something you bonded over when you were first getting to know one another. After spending so much time with him at the beginning of the dance, Cregan began to care for Jace as if he was a brother of his own.

“So it’s settled then,” he states with pride, “we’ll call him Jacaerys.”

“Jacaerys,” you breathe out in agreement as your husband places as gentle kiss on your forehead.

[sawruhh]

-