#to be specific there are 3 affixes

[bookwyrminspiration]

pa is the core verb. this word is 83% affixes and honestly that's just impressive

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello!! So, I saw an argument about Harry's uhm looks? I guess. A lot of people basically headcanon him as someone buff. I digress, I'm part of the uhm more realistic? group. Harry's been starved and abused his entire life. I doubt he'll gain the weight and the height everyone else wants him to have. Years later. maybe. But in 6th year? While on the run? 3 years after the war? Doubt. do you think he would be able to get super tall and buff? Also, do you think its possible he used the same methods the dursleys used to punish himself?

I mean, anyone can headcanon whatever they want, but, I'll try to explain via quotes, what Harry's height and muscle situation is likely to be. I believe the reasons some headcanon him as buff and tall are:

Harry had pinned Mundungus against the wall of the pub by the throat. Holding him fast with one hand, he pulled out his wand.

(HBP)

He lifts Mundungus by his throat with one hand easily, and he practices Quidditch like 3 times a week at least. This implies that Harry has some muscle on him.

And he's mentioned to be James' height when he's 17:

James was exactly the same height as Harry.

(DH)

Which was supposedly tall, according to both, Harry:

tall and untidy-haired like Harry, the smoky, shadowy form of James Potter

(GoF)

And Voldemort:

the tall black-haired man in his glasses

(DH)

Now, let's put Harry's height in the context of other character heights. Particularly of interest are characters taller than him, to get an image of how tall is "tall." And some shorter characters to help figure out his exact height.

Sirius, Ron, Voldemort, and Dumbledore are all taller than Harry and exceptionally tall in general. They are each likely to be over 6 feet tall, making Harry likely less than 6' (183 cm). Supporting this is this quote:

Once the painful transformation was complete he was more than six feet tall, and from what he could tell from his well-muscled arms, powerfully built.

(DH)

This means Harry is less than 6' and isn't super buff. But, I want to get to his specific height, because I have a lot to say about character heights.

Like, Dumbledore is probably the tallest character who isn't a half-giant because he's towering over everyone except Hagrid and Maxime. In book 6, he's literally taller than all the inferi in the cave:

Dumbledore was on his feet again, pale as any of the surrounding Inferi, but taller than any too,

(HBP)

And Abeforth (who's as tall as Dumbledore) is taller than Ron, who's one of the other tallest characters in the books:

Ron looked slightly sick. Aberforth stood up, tall as Albus, and suddenly terrible in his anger and the intensity of his pain.

(DH)

Making the Dumbledores really tall. My estimate is around a whooping 6'5 (195 cm).

Sirius is mentioned to be taller than Snape, and the tallest Marauder:

said Sirius, standing up. He was rather taller than Snape

(OotP)

To Sirius’s right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter

(DH)

A head, in height, should be around one foot (30.48 cm). As the average height of a man in England in 1998 was around 5'8 (174.4 cm), this would make Sirius around 6'2 (188 cm), therefore taller than average, and Pettigrew around 5'2 (157 cm), shorter than the average, but still both at a reasonable height.

Ron is almost as tall as the twins at 11:

“Shut up,” said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

(PS)

And, just, really tall in general:

He stepped forward. Not as tall as Ron, he had to crane his neck to read the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball.

(OotP)

So I estimate Ron at around 6'3 (190 cm).

Voldemort who grew up on war rations is still described very consistently as tall, regardless of childhood malnourishment:

He was his handsome father in miniature, tall for eleven years old, dark-haired, and pale

(HBP)

tall, pale, dark-haired, and handsome — the teenage Voldemort.

(HBP)

Taller than Bellatrix (who's taller than Harry). Voldemort is also considerably taller than Pettigrew, as he has to bend to reach Pettigrew's arm when both are standing:

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail’s left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail’s robes up past his elbow

(GoF)

I usually place Voldemort at around the same height as Ron, so 6'3 (190 cm).

Fred and George, though, are mentioned to be shorter and stockier, more similar to Molly's build:

Charlie was built like the twins, shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who were both long and lanky.

(GoF)

but are mentioned to shrink to become Harry in book 7:

Hermione and Mundungus were shooting upward; Ron, Fred, and George were shrinking

(DH)

I actually place the twins around 6' (183 cm) so they could be taller than Harry, but shorter than Ron. The twins are likely taller than Charlie.

Bellatrix, as a woman, should also be shorter on average, but considering how tall Sirius is mentioned to be, it appears the Blacks are just considerably taller than the average, even the women:

a tall dark woman with heavy-lidded eyes, who had stood at her trial and proclaimed her continuing allegiance to Lord Voldemort

(OotP)

She was taller than he was, her long black hair rippling down her back, her heavily lidded eyes disdainful as they rested upon him;

(DH)

So I place her at around 6' (183 cm) as well, as an exceptionally tall lady.

So where does this place Harry?

During the first 4 books, Harry is short and small for his age. When he's 13, he and Hermione are bit shorter than Pettigrew:

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry and Hermione.

(PoA)

(Ron, noticeably, is taller than Pettigrew at 13)

So, so Harry at 13 was around 5'1 (155 cm). And so was Hermione.

Then in between books 4 and 5 puberty kicks in and probably causes a slight growth spurt that makes him more attractive to girls around him:

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, the last two of whom gave Harry airy, overly friendly greetings that made him quite sure they had stopped talking about him a split second before. He had more important things to worry about, however:

(OotP)

And then he has another, larger growth spurt between books 5 and 6:

“You’re like Ron,” she [Molly] sighed, looking him up and down. “Both of you look as though you’ve had Stretching Jinxes put on you. I swear Ron’s grown four inches since I last bought him school robes.

(HBP)

“And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve grown about a foot over the summer either,” Hermione finished, ignoring Ron. “I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially. [Ron is objectively correct]

(HBP)

Post book 6 growth spurt, we know Harry is below 6' (183 cm) but close enough to 6' to be above the average of 5'8 (174.4 cm) and be considered "tall", and grow "about a foot" after said growth spurt.

I personally place his height at 5'11 (180 cm), to make all of the above make sense.

And while he is physically fit, he is likely very thin from years of malnourishment. So, he likely has some muscle on him, but he's very lean with little to no fat during his Hogwarts years (he'd likely gain more weight as an adult living peacefully with regular meals). So, Harry in the books isn't what I'd call buff, but he has some muscle and can definitely throw a punch. As he grows older post-canon, I think he could get buff if he set his mind to it.

(I actually have notes about the height of a bunch of other characters. Hermione is shorter than Harry and Ron, but noticeably taller than Ginny (5'1 or 155 cm - edited Ginny's height since I think she's shorter than the former estimate of 5'2. Bellatrix says “Very well — take the smallest one,” with Hermione and Luna (who's also short) present, so Ginny is really short) and probably around 5'4 (162 cm) by book 7. Draco is said to be slightly taller than Harry "Harry did not dare look directly at Draco, but saw him obliquely; a figure slightly taller than he was" - DH, placing Draco at around 6' (183 cm))

For your other question, no, I don't think Harry self-harms, definitely not in any way related to the Dursleys, but that's a different post because I went off about heights.

[txttletale]

this is an image i generated using AI with the prompt 'mi-24 attack helicopter blushing demurely'. it is definitionally art and i am the artist (note that i did not say it's good art -- it isn't!). i'm going to ask some questions about it to illustrate why i think a lot of 'AI art isn't art' talking points are silly.

1. why did i combine 'attack helicopter' with 'blushing', when this is not something attack helicopters are known for doing? is there a juxtaposition being drawn there on purpose? what purpose?

2. why did i specify a specific model of attack helicopter? is the mi-24 known for anything?

3. what attitude does this prompt imply towards the mi-24 and the institutions that use it? is it a reverent and respectful one?

4. why is 'demurely' specified? are there other ways to blush?

5. would the resulting image have been meaningfully different if:

a) the type of helicopter had not been specified

b) 'blushing' had been replaced by 'frowning'

c) 'blushing demurely' had been replaced with 'fighting bad guys'

d) 'mi-24 attack helicopter' had been replaced with 'anime girl'

e) 'mi-24 attack helicopter' had been replaced with 'turkish president'

f) the prompt was affixed 'beautiful, high resolution, trending on artstation'

g) the prompt was affixed 'found footage horror movie'

6. does the fact that i have previously said i will make a bing ai image every time someone complains about AI art, sarcastically saying that by doing so i am stealing food out of artists' mouths, impact the perceived meaning and impact of the image? does it offer a new reading of the absurd nature of the prompt?

7. does the fact that i am a vocal communist impact your answer to any of these questions?

these aren't rhetorical or troll questions, to be clear -- they are merely being posed to illustrate that the idea that there is no artistic intent or human expression behind AI generated images falls apart under serious analysis.

[sinn-bee]

[Excerpts from the studies of the Beast Taming peak]

The Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf

A demonic beast from the wastes of the demon realms, they are solitary creatures who seldom form packs. They begin life as scavengers, the pups setting off on their own and surviving off of scraps as they seek out the strongest demonic beast they can find. They learn to hunt and stalk, waiting for the powerful beast they have chosen to meet an untimely end and on the rare occasion delivering the final blow to carry it to death’s door. The Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf will then make its territory around its chosen one’s resting place, guarding the decomposing monster, feasting on it, and waiting for its bones to be picked clean by vermin as it grows to a size comparable to the dead beast.

When the bones are clean and free, the Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf will arrange the bones and roll in them- tangling them into its long golden fur until they are secure. With a surge of demonic energy the fur hardens into a metallic material, permanently affixing the bones as armor.

It is less of a scavenger at this point, depending on the kind of beast skeleton the Wolf has grown to don, it can range from a sleek and quick deadly predator equipped with sharp spurs of bone to a nigh impenetrable foe with thick armor. It then stalks its territory, expanding its borders and driving away strong beasts, inflicting them with deep wounds.

The pups are often sought out by demonic courts as trophies. Plucked from their pilgrimage for their clean and untangled fur that has many uses from a brilliant conduit for demonic energy to being used for beautiful embroidery to hardening into its metallic form for weapons. Less commonly, they are captured to be trained as war hounds. They are difficult to tame and raise, the confinement making it difficult for them to grow and become suitable for the handpicked bones its captors try to make it don. But on the rare occasion that its owners are successful they make formidable beasts on the battlefield regardless of their unpredictable temper.

It is not recommended to approach this demonic beast alone, given as each one is unique outfitted it is impossible to plan ahead to fight. They are best fought with a team of cultivators that possess a wide range of fighting styles and experiences. The bones of the Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf are potent with Demonic energy but if harvested and cleansed can be used for crafted powerful spiritual objects with a strength for detecting evil. The ivory crafted this way always carries a lovely golden sheen. The fur can also be used as a potent material for weaving spells and talismans into fabric. It is unknown if humans are capable of taming these creatures as the pups reside very far in the demon realm and are experts at evasion. On the few noted experiences of cultivators finding escaped trained Wolves, they do not seem keen on taking human instruction.

[end of excerpt]

Did I write a whole journal entry on the Pidw creature I made up for a fic? Yes. Yes I did <3 Fun fact, I sketched this on paper first and then colored it digitally! The specific wolf here is wearing bones based off of a rhinoceros skeleton a dark moon python rhinoceros maybe…

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 4

I know I said I was going to wait on posting this one, but it's got the most backlogged chapters so I figured I can at least put out this one for you.

It's extra long, like amount 1000 words longer than my usual. But I didn't want to stop half way through a specific section.

An elf gets his ears, Robin freaks out a bit, and everyone gets a little called out about their pre-conceived notions, but especially Mike.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The day had arrived and Claudia had offered to help get them all there, as Eddie’s van was full and Robin still didn’t have her license. She was in driver’s ed right now, thankfully. Her parents didn’t want her going to college without knowing how.

So Dustin, Will, El, and Mike went with Claudia and Robin, Max, and Lucas went with Steve.

Dustin had wanted to go with Steve, but it didn’t make sense as his mom was the other driver. So he pouted all the way to pick up his friends, but by the time Claudia had picked up Mike Dustin was vibrating in the front seat.

Lucas was picked up last.

He still didn’t have his ears so he looked crestfallen when he answered the door. He was wearing the pirate outfit he had told Steve he had.

“He’s being a piss baby,” Erica muttered. “Something about ears.”

“Erica Jean!” Mrs. Sinclair hissed. “We do not talk about your brother that way.”

Erica crossed her arms and pouted.

“Actually, Mrs. Sinclair,” Steve said with a smile. “I have a solution, but I’m going to need your help.”

Both Lucas and Erica perked up at that. Steve patted his pocket with a wink.

“Of course!” Mrs. Sinclair beamed. “I told you Steve and Eddie were going to come through for you, didn’t I?”

Lucas blushed. “Yes, Mom.”

“Where do we need to be, Steve?” she asked.

“The bathroom would be the best place.”

She nodded and led the way, Lucas in the middle and Steve bringing up the rear.

Steve sat Lucas on the toilet seat and pulled out the thin box Eddie had given him. He opened it up so Mrs. Sinclair could see it first.

“Ooh!” she cooed. “I know just what we need. I’ll be right back.”

Steve turned around so Lucas could see them.

Lucas gasped. “Holy shit! What are they made of?”

“Silicone.”

“Do we need anything to affix the ears, Steve?” Mrs. Sinclair asked from her bedroom. “I have makeup glue if we need.”

“That’s fine, Mrs. Sinclair,” Steve called back. “I have spirit gum.”

She peaked around the corner. “Oh that’s even better!” She had her makeup bag in her hands.

“Actually Lucas,” Steve said eyeing the makeup bag. “Go change into your costume. I don’t want to smear makeup on your costume or accidentally knock off one of the ears and have to start all over.”

Lucas leapt to his feet and dashed out of the room.

“It was really nice of you to do all this for him,” Mrs. Sinclair told Steve in the wake of her son’s cartoon speed cloud. “It’s really made him feel special. To stand out in a way that feels good for a change.”

Steve smiled back at her. “He’s a good kid. It was great that I got to do something nice for him.”

Lucas came back a few minutes later, a blanket covering his costume. When his mom and Steve raised an eyebrow at him he blushed.

“I was worried about the makeup getting on the costume,” he admitted shyly.

Steve patted his shoulder. “I would have put a towel over it. A mom approved towel. I don’t think she’s going to approve that blanket.”

“Absolutely not!” She took off the blanket and handed them a ratty old towel to drape over Lucas’s shoulders.

“Thanks Mrs. S.,” Steve murmured and got to work. He applied the ears and then swapped with Mrs. Sinclair.

She applied makeup to the silicone to blend them to Lucas’s ears.

“All done!” she said triumphantly.

Steve whipped off the towel and pulled Lucas to his feet. He closed the door so that they could use the full length mirror that was on the back. He put his hands over Lucas’s eyes and gently steered him toward the door.

“You ready?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Lucas croaked.

Steve uncovered his eyes.

Lucas stared in the mirror for a moment or two.

“Baby?” Mrs. Sinclair asked. “Do you like it?”

Tears streamed down his face as he nodded. “I’m an elf, Mom...”

She hugged him tightly. “Yes you are, sweetie. And the best looking elf at the fair, no doubt.”

He nodded and then wiped his tears.

“How did you do this?” he asked Steve.

Steve smiled. “Jeff makes them.”

Lucas’s jaw dropped. “Oh.”

Mrs. Sinclair cocked her head to the side. “Who’s Jeff?”

“Mom!” Lucas hissed. “I like talk about him all the time! He’s the other black member of Hellfire!”

“Ah,” she said with a smile. “You talk about so many of those boys, I get them mixed up sometimes. But I’m happy he was able to help my baby out.”

Lucas rushed out to show the girls who gasped and oohed over Lucas’s outfit.

“How much did you have to pay for those, Steve?” she asked gently. “They can’t have been cheap.”

Steve shook his head. “Jeff did them for free because he knew what it was like to be told no just because of the color of his skin. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

She nodded and the two of them wandered out into the front room.

“Steve!!” Erica screeched. “I didn’t know you could sew like this!” She waved at Lucas. “What the hell?”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “You could have come, and maybe would have gotten a cool outfit too. Too late now.”

Erica gasped, wide-eyed that Steve would call her out like this.

Mrs. Sinclair patted her daughter on the head. “You’re the one that wanted to sleep over at Tina’s this weekend, sweetie. Maybe next year.”

Erica couldn’t deny her mother’s logic and was forced to concede. “Fine, but just know I’m going to be grumpy about it.”

Mrs. Sinclair kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “I know, dear.”

“Come on,” Max said, “we’ve admired Lucas long enough, I want to go to this fair, please.”

Lucas and Steve shared a glance. “Uh-oh. She said please, we better go before she gets really mad.”

Max rolled her eyes. “Fuck off.”

Mrs. Sinclair bit her lip as she struggled not to tell the girl off for her language.

Max and Lucas piled into the backseat while Robin and Steve slid upfront.

*

The closer they got to the where the Renaissance Fair was being held, the more nervous Robin got.

“Steve?” she questioned. “Why are we heading to the burned down mall?”

Steve grinned. “We aren’t.”

Robin bit her lip. “No,” she mumbled. “I rode my bike on this road every day to get to work. This is the way to Starcourt.”

Lucas and Max leaned forward to see the road ahead of them.

“I think she’s right,” Max concluded. “This is the way to Starcourt.”

They pulled into the makeshift parking lot of the fair. It was pretty much a dust field with people in medieval getups directing traffic.

Steve pulled in where he was directed and they all piled out of the Bimmer.

They stood looking out at the field where Starcourt once stood, but was now a bustling center of outdoor activity.

“What the hell?” Robin gasped. “Where is the mall?”

Steve grinned. “This piece of land was always used for passing carnivals and the Renaissance Fair every year. When the mayor sold it to the Russians to build the mall it put a stop to a lot of summer activities the town once enjoyed. So after the earthquake they bulldozed the area and put back the way it was.”

“What did they do with the underground bunker?” Max asked, vaguely interested.

Steve scratched his cheek. “Filled it with uh, cement.”

Lucas and Max shared an appreciative glance and even Robin nodded.

Steve was the first to spot the rest of their group. Dustin, Mike, Will and El were waiting in neat little cluster for them.

Lucas tugged on the hem of his gambeson and ducked his head. Max looked over at him and rolled her eyes.

“They aren’t going to care,” she hissed.

Steve glared at her. “There has been evidence to the contrary regarding this very thing, so zip it.” He mimed zipping his mouth closed.

Max stared at him wide-eyed in shock. Robin tugged on her sleeve.

“Come on,” she told the younger girl. “Let’s got meet up with the others.”

Max huffed but did as she was told without protest.

Steve put his hands on Lucas’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Look, I don’t know how you feel. I can never know how you feel, but let me tell you something that those buttheads will probably never understand because they aren’t like you and me.”

Lucas nodded.

“Being a ‘nerd’ as they call it is not the be all end all of existence,” Steve said. “You can have interests outside of theirs. I know they gave you shit for joining the basketball team, but you are a good player, maybe even a great one if you keep at it. You won’t have the same experiences that they will and that’s okay.”

“But what if we stop being friends?” Lucas asked, his voice breaking.

“It’s going to suck for awhile,” Steve confirmed. “It won’t be easy and it will hurt sometimes when you least expect it, but you’ll make new friends with your same interests as long as you continue to be you.”

Lucas took in a deep breath and let out slow. “You’re friends were assholes though.”

Steve laughed. “And Mike isn’t?”

A small sunny smile peeked out from under Lucas’s cloud of worry. “Yeah, all right.”

They started walking toward the group with Steve’s arm slung over Lucas’s shoulder.

“Take a deep breath,” Steve told him as they got close. “And know I will kick his ass if he says anything.”

Lucas huffed out a laugh. “Thanks, Steve.”

They reached the crowd of their friends and waited for their reaction.

“Holy shit!” Will said. “That is an epic costume!”

And then Lucas fully reached the group and ears could be seen.

“What are you supposed to be?” Mike asked with a sneer. “There aren’t any black characters with pointy ears.”

Dustin scoffed. “He could be a Vulcan. There was a black Vulcan in ‘Search for Spock’!”

“That movie was so bad, dude,” Mike huffed. “It doesn’t count.”

“It totally counts,” Dustin protested. “It’s considered canon, therefore it counts.”

“I’m not a Vulcan,” Lucas said proudly, sticking out his chest, “I’m an elf ranger.”

“Are you a Drow then?” Mike asked. “You do know Drows are evil right?”

Dustin and Will’s jaws drop in shock and outrage.

“Dude!” Will hissed. “His skin isn’t literally black!”

Steve leaned over to the girls. “Does anyone know what a draw or whatever is?”

Lucas turned to Steve. “It’s a race of elves that live in the underdark, deep below where even the dwarves dare to delve. They’re straight up evil and very matriarchal.”

“Well that’s sexist,” Robin said putting her hands on her hips.

Mike rolled his eyes turned back to Lucas. “Well you can’t be Silvain elf, because they’re pale skinned and beautiful.”

“I’m a wood elf,” Lucas said, “my skin matches the woods around me, so I can blend in easier.”

Mike crossed his arms. “Show me one other dark skinned elf that isn’t you and maybe I’ll allow it.”

Just then a large van pulled up to the entrance in a skid, blaring metal music.

The four men got out and everyone was looking at them in stunned silence.

Eddie was dressed as a minstrel, wine dark puffy sleeves and leggings with a black tunic and boots. Gareth was a magic user in long, flowing purple robes that stopped two inches from the ground and beautifully carved wizard’s rod with a deep purple crystal in its grasp. Brian was a fighter with a metal sword at his hip and dressed in actual leather armor. Then the Party saw Jeff. He was dressed all in black with tight leggings, a short tunic and a black silk shirt that was covered by a short cloak. He had two silver daggers tucked into the tops of his thigh high boots.

He dropped the hood on his cloak to reveal that yes, Mike, he too had elf ears.

Jeff spotted Lucas and threw out his arms. “My kinsman! I greet you!”

Lucas turned and bowed low and Steve was forced to turn away to hide the smile at Mike’s stunned expression.

“Lord Kelnic,” Lucas greeted. “I understand these were a gift from you?” He rubbed the tip of one of the ears.

Jeff ran up to him. “Dude! How did you get them to match so well? I’ve tried every kind of glue to make them look like actual ears.”

Lucas blushed. “My mom used her makeup kit to blend the two.”

Jeff turned to the rest of Corroded Coffin. “And why didn’t we think of that?”

Gareth and Brian just shrugged.

Eddie on the other hand looked sheepish. “Because I thought makeup was just for girls?”

Jeff rolled his eyes and turned back to Lucas. “I’ll borrow my sister’s makeup for tomorrow. Can’t have shoddy looking ears next to my ranger kinsman.”

Lucas laughed.

Brian nudged Gareth in the ribs. “What’s Mike’s problem?”

Corroded Coffin all turned as one to see that Mike was standing there between El and Will looking like a rug had been pulled out from under him.

El patted Mike on the shoulder. “My mom says that people who judge someone by anything other than the content of their character are either too young to know better, or are immature. Grow better.”

She turned and started for the line that would grant them entrance to the Fair.

Lucas looked over at Steve and the two of them tried not to laugh at the absolute gobsmacked expression on Mike’s face.

“I’m not being racist!” he huffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not!” He looked around at all his friends, but none of them looked even remotely like they agreed with him. “He’s black so he should be black characters!”

Brian reared his head back. “Dude, how is that not racist?”

Mike looked around again panicked. “It just isn’t!”

Jeff walked up to him and looked him straight in the eye. A feat that was a little hard for most of his friends these days with how tall he’d gotten.

“There’s this thing, Mike,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “called casual racism. It’s where all your upbringing and prejudices come out in casual ways instead of saying things like nigger and that blacks should be separate from whites. It’s oh he can’t play that character, the character is white. He can’t be an elf, elves are white. That’s casual racism and you better check it before it ruins a damn good friendship.”

Jeff stared him down until Mike was nodding his agreement. He turned to Will and Dustin.

“I wasn’t here at the start of this conversation,” he said, “but you two need to be better at calling out Mike’s bullshit. Because a few years on, he should be better not worse.”

Dustin and Will gave confused glances at each other.

Jeff scoffed. “Lucas told me all about the lovely little Ghostbusters incident. He straight up told you he wasn’t going to be Winston, but Mike here assumed he wasn’t going to be anyway because he’s black. So the fact that here we are and he’s still being a racist asshole?”

“We do call him out,” Will said. “And I wasn’t here for almost a year, I don’t know what happened in that year, but yeah he got worse.”

Dustin shrugged. “I don’t know either, man. Don’t look at me.”

Steve stepped forward. “I think you do know, Dustin and I was really disappointed when I heard about it.”

Dustin looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“After all, what’s a little casual racism when Lucas ‘betrayed’ you by joining the basketball team?” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest.

The older members of The Hellfire Club looked chastised. Because they had all given Lucas shit for that.

“You still have time to course correct,” Steve said. “But make no mistake, any kind of bullying, is still bullying. Whether it’s about the color of their skin, the games they play, or the type of school subject they like.”

He pointed at Robin. “Band and orchestra is still people getting together and playing instruments like a metal band.” Eddie winced hard and shoved a lock of his hair in front of his face.

“Playing a sport is no different than DnD, planning, keeping track of stats, and working together are hallmarks of both.” Dustin and Mike shared a grimace and even Gareth and Brian looked uncomfortable.

“Being a genius at math or science doesn’t make you better than someone who is a genius at history or literature.”

To which everyone but Robin and Max looked at their feet. Because they had all made that mistake with Steve before this all started.

“I think we will all need to unpack some pretty garbage baggage,” Steve concluded. “But!”

All the heads shot up.

“We are here for a good time,” Steve said holding up his hand, “and as long as Mike apologizes to Jeff and Lucas I think we can move past this and enjoy ourselves today. Agreed?”

Everyone murmured their agreement, punctuated with nods. Mike looked down at his feet and kicked at a pebble.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I wasn’t trying to be racist. I’ll try to be better.”

Steve looked over at Jeff and Lucas and they both gave him a thumbs up.

“Great!” Steve said cheerfully. “Now let’s get this show on the road!”

“Dirt path maybe,” Robin grumbled. “It’s like an old western out here. I swear to god Steve if I see a tumbleweed I am out of here.”

Steve laughed as they all met El in line.

Now that the heavy stuff was out of the way, it was time for some good fun.

****

My favorite line was El's "...Grow better." Because there is nothing more stinging then your girlfriend telling you to stop being an ass.

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @dolphincliffs @child-of-cthulhu @sani-86

[glowup-princess]

ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴠɪꜱɪᴏɴ ʙᴏᴀʀᴅ

Creating a vision board is a powerful way to visualize your goals and inspire yourself to achieve them. 

 1. Clarify Your Goals

 Reflect on what you want in various aspects of your life: 

Career

Relationships

Health 

Personal growth 

Travel

Hobbies

Be specific about your goals.

For example, instead of "get healthy," aim for "run a 5K" or "eat more vegetables daily."

 2. Gather Supplies

Board: You can use a corkboard, poster board, foam board, or even a digital canvas to create online.

Materials: Scissors, glue, tape, pins, or software tools for digital boards.

Images & Words: Magazines, newspapers, printouts, or personal photos work well for a digital board. Use apps like Canva or Pinterest.

Decorative Items: Stickers, markers, ribbons, or any creative embellishments.

 3. Find Inspiration

Look for images, quotes, or symbols that represent your goals. (ofc in Pinterest <3)

Think beyond material things: include emotions, values, or habits you want to cultivate (e.g., happiness, mindfulness).

 4. Organize Your Board

Arrange items by category or priority.

Use sections for different life areas, like:

Top-left: Career

Top-right: Relationships

Bottom-left: Health

Bottom-right: Travel or personal development

Keep the central space for your core vision or main goal.

 5. Assemble the Vision Board

Affix your images and words to the board.

Add creative touches, like doodles or captions, to make it personal.

 6. Display Your Vision Board

Place it somewhere visible, like your bedroom, or office, or as a wallpaper on your phone or computer.

The goal is to keep your vision in mind regularly.

 7. Engage With It Regularly

Spend a few minutes daily or weekly visualizing your goals while looking at your board.

Adjust and update the board as your goals evolve or you achieve milestones.

 8. Take Action

Use your vision board as motivation, but remember that action is key to turning your vision into reality.

Break down big goals into smaller, actionable steps.

Happy new year everyone!! <3

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

[jusst-you-race]

PLEASE (i know i will die reading this but i love suffering) so PLEASE strollonso and 50 💜

strollonso my beloved <3 idk how i feel about this one but i hope it's alright? hopefully if there's any suffering it's good suffering! prompt list

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Lance looks at himself in the mirror, smoothing a hand down the lapel of his jacket. He hadn’t picked this one out, he was simply wearing what he was told, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it.

He feels silly, being so worried about the event, but there’s always that low level of anxiety he gets these days. No matter what he says, or does, it just never seems enough. The suit is different, slightly out there, and the knot of worry has something specific to latch on to. What if a comment is made? 

There’s movement in the mirror and Lance looks up. Fernando is in the doorway looking effortlessly handsome as always and Lance almost wants to roll his eyes. He watches Fernando look him up and down, bracing for some sort of terrible joke. Normally he’d love for Fernando to say something stupid, distract him from his own thoughts, but he’s pretty sure now it will only make him feel worse. He tries to cut him off at the pass.

“What d’ya think?” Lance drawls, perfectly practised so as not to give away his emotions.

Fernando meets his eye in the mirror, gaze intense.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Lance feels heat rise in his cheeks, and this time he does roll his eyes.

“Yeah okay, old man. You’re just saying that.”

Wrinkles appear on Fernando’s forehead as his eyebrows pull into a frown. 

“Lancito,” he murmurs. Lance chews his lip, and Fernando’s gaze catches on the movement. He walks into the room slowly, deliberately, and Lance watches him in the mirror. Fernando reaches him, and slides his arms around Lance’s waist, stretching up in order to hook his chin over Lance’s shoulder. Fond, Lance slouches against him to make it easier. Fernando finds his gaze in the mirror.

“I mean what I say, cariño.” 

Something in Lance settles. He smiles, and brings a hand up to lace his fingers through Fernando’s. 

“Thanks, Nando,” he sighs. “Help me with my cufflinks?”

Fernando kisses his shoulder, which makes Lance’s heart clench, before he pulls away reluctantly. 

“They are over here?” Fernando asks as he pokes around on the cabinet beside the mirror.

Lance hums, fiddling with the hem of his suit jacket. Eventually Fernando turns back around, cufflinks in hand. Lance holds his wrists out expectantly and Fernando chuckles at him. 

“Okay, princesa.”

Lance watches, helplessly endeared, as Fernando affixes the cufflinks with the utmost care. His face is pulled into a little frown of confrontation and Lance aches to smooth his thumb over the crease in his brow. His hands are occupied though so instead he just watches. When he’s done, Fernando holds Lance's hands in his gently, before bringing each one up to press a kiss to his knuckles, painfully tender. 

“Sap,” Lance says, but he’s smiling, and he knows it’s probably dopey. Fernando looks up at him, cheeky glint in his eye.

“For you? Always.”

Lance swats at him and giggles, and when he sees his own flushed cheeks in the mirror he decides he doesn’t look half bad after all.

[alphabetboyluvr]

something borrowed | jjk

VIBES | first loves, a lil angst, a lil... infidelity (don't scream at me!!), no smut (a little teeny lips to kitty moment but no actual smut) jungkook's nose be doing things (smelling <3) cause when is it not?, mafia au

SOUNDTRACK | moth to a flame - swedish house mafia, the weekend ; mirage - elina

HOLLY'S NOTE | (originally posted april 2023) was in a tiktok hell hole of moth to a flame edits, and this is the product of it loool. posted on wp first!!

WORD COUNT |  2.8k

GLOSSARY OF TERMS | all relating to korean gangs 

Gyeongsang - the ancient name for what is now known as the Yeongnam district of Korea. It includes Daegu, Busan, Ulsan, and both Gyeongsang Provinces. It's essentially the South-East of the country.

Honam - the district of Korea which includes Gwangju and both Jeolla provinces. Essentially, it's Yeongnam's counterpart - the South-West of the country.

Pa - the term for a 'mob' in Korean, often affixed to regions or identifiers of specific gangs

Jopok - a term for someone involved in a gang 

THEY SAY you never forget your first love; that it's some sort of earth-shattering, universe-bending, life-debilitating experience. You learn from it; how to behave, how to act, how to break a heart, and - sometimes - how to heal one, too.

They're a funny thing, first loves.

Virginities are given and taken in all aspects of life; sex, declarations of affection, scathing remarks in the midst of arguments.

Jeon Jungkook has all of your firsts, and you all of his.

It had been a too-hot summer, and you'd been rebelling.

Fresh-faced, and terribly bored of the confines put in place by your father, Jungkook had seemed like a safe bet. 

Jungkook had always been a rebel. You made no change to that.

You'd gone to Busan looking for trouble. Like father, like daughter. He usually went there to fuck with Gyeongsang-pa goonies who didn't know their left from their right; to remind them that what Honam-pa may lack in their underground history, they made up for in their sheer moxie.

You'd gone there to fuck with Gyeongsang-pa goonies, too, just in the literal sense. You were on the cusp of nineteen, and still being held prisoner to Honam-pa hierarchy, or so it felt.

An easy target was found in the form of a boy skimming rocks against a settled bay. Leather jacket and a face of thunder, Jeon Jungkook had wanted nothing to do with you. Heard the tone of your dialect and knew you were one of them.

"Ain't no place for Honam bitches," he'd told you. Had made you laugh.

"And who are you?" You'd replied, voice condescending, eyes innocent. "Too scrawny to be Jopok."

He had smirked. Shook his head. "Yeah, and you're too vapid to be asking questions like that in a city that ain't yours." The pebble he sent hurtling into the ocean skipped once, twice, three times before sinking. He turned to look at you. Sighed. Figured you were at least a little bit more interesting than pebbles. "What's your name, Honam?"

As you stand in front of a mirror, seven years since that summer, you know Jeon Jungkook will be getting all of your lasts, too.

You're smoothing down a dress; white, lace, and everything a girl dreams of.

Well, everything a girl who wants a traditional wedding with all the bells and whistles wants.

You've always considered yourself an elopement kind of girlie; last-minute charity shop dress for you, and second-hand tie for your groom, in a city worlds away from 'home'. That's what you would have liked.

But you're Honam's Princess. 

This was always gonna be the way.

You'd never expected yourself to have a Gyeongsang-pa groom, but sometimes life works out in funny ways.

"It's bad luck," you say quietly as Jungkook approaches the doorway. It's a little before noon. Nuptials are at two. You've sent away your ladies in waiting, favouring these final moments alone.

"To see the bride?" he questions. He's not even started getting ready yet. Still in a pair of sweats and an old shirt that you remember from that very first summer. You wonder if he's wearing it deliberately now; if it makes him feel like he's young again.

He'd been so fresh-faced back then. His broad back hadn't yet been tarnished by a dragon, and his eyes had seen far less violence. His hands, too.

You nod. "Remember? I told you. You shouldn't see the bride on the morning of the ceremony."

Jungkook just shrugs. Pushes the door to, and walks further into the room to stand behind you. It's warm, but his presence gives you chills. It shouldn't do. Not when you know him as intimately as you do.

His fingers reach up to toy at the vintage clasp of your necklace. He asks, "Something old?"

You're silent as you study him in the mirror. He's not aged a day. Not really. Not in his eyes. The scar on his cheek looks a little deeper from his face filling out, and he wears his hair differently - he doesn't subscribe to the Gyeongsang-pa standard of short sides, long top anymore - but his eyes are just the same.

"Something old," you nod.

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and lets the very tips of his fingers trail down your spine, until they reach the fabric of your dress.

"Your Grandmothers," he says. "I remember it."

You don't hide your surprise.

"What?" he smirks, when he notices the tiny little hum of confusion you do. "Was that first summer. You left it in my car once. Was karma for you chatting shit about your sister inheriting the opal ring."

"It was too small for her fingers!" you immediately protest, still standing by the fact it would have been cherished by you - though you do have an opal ring, now. 

It normally sits snug on your fourth finger, awaiting a dainty silver band to keep it company, but it's off today. Symbolic. Your wedding band is to be threaded on first, held in place by your opal forevermore.

"The necklace suits you," he offers. 

Thinks it really does; a small silver chain, links twisted with a single teardrop pearl resting on your chest. It goes back generations. Is a status symbol. Losing it in Jungkook's car had left you terrified for you both, no matter who would have found it - Gyeongsang-pa goonies or Honam-Pa. Would have been fucked either way. Fraternizing with the enemy was one thing - but fucking them?

Your father would have had Jungkook's head on a butcher's block within an hour of finding out.

Funny, how things change.

He strides over to the dresser, where a white shoe box sits open. Tissue paper sprouts from the packaging, and nestled inside are a pair of heels that he thinks are befitting of you. They're white, to match your dress, with ornate silver leaves trailing up and around the heels. You'll be a good few inches taller with them on, but he'd still dwarf you if he were to stand across from you.

A little taller than he was that very first summer, Jungkook is far more confident, too. Not in a brash, false bravado kind of way, but in such a way that he's learned his worth. Knows where he is in the pecking order. Works so much harder than you ever will, and yet will never be of equal status. Not in Honam Pa, not in Gyeongsang-Pa.

He sits on the chair beside the mirror and holds a shoe in each palm. His legs are spread, smile arrogant, as he taps the shoes together.

"Something new?"

"Careful," you say, not looking at him, tweaking a little bit of your hair back. "Yes. Something new."

He raises one of shoes, and nods to where the skirt of your dress pools on the floor. "May I?"

"Shouldn't even see-"

"See the bride, yeah, yeah, I know," he says softly. "Next time I see you, you're gonna be one of us. Let me at least spend a little time with you while you're still Honam."

"You've always hated that I'm Honam," you remind him.

He doesn't deny it.

"Just let me help you get ready for your party," he says, stern but gentle. He's always been like that with you.

He calls it a party, because he refuses to call it a wedding. Wedding is too romantic. Too foreboding.

You don't want to smile. He's so abrasive at times, so frustrating. You wonder how you ended up here; eyes full of adoration as you nod. "Alright then, Prince Charming."

You lift your leg just a little bit, but Jungkook knows your body, so doesn't give it a second thought as he reaches down to leverage it up. He strokes at your ankle, the heel of your foot, the arch. Smiles to himself when you shudder a little when his fingers ghost across the tiny ticklish section.

"Don't," you smile. "I'll fall."

He just shrugs. "I'll catch you."

That's the thing about Jungkook; he always does. Trusty, dependable, reliable. 

Sure, maybe occasionally he would be the one to tie your laces, but he would always catch you.

You've no laces on now. Any falling? All of your own doing.

Jungkook doesn't let the sentiment linger. Asks, "Something blue?"

You look down at him as he slides the second shoe onto your other foot, and wonder if showing him really will be pushing your luck - but hey.

He's already seen the bride.

What harm would it do if he sees a little more?

He holds on to your ankle for longer than he really should. Strokes his thumb across the top of your foot. Smiles. You press the pad of your now-heeled foot into the tiny space between his spread legs, keeping it elevated, and give him a look that grants him permission to explore.

Both of his hands stroke up your raised leg, smooth and silky, the fabric of your dress moving to reveal what's hidden beneath. He reaches your knee. Leans forward a little. Presses those lips you know so well against your skin. Keeps stroking upwards, hands spreading across your thighs before reaching a roadblock. Chiffon and lace intertwined, a baby blue garter is hooked around your leg.

Jungkook's lips trail from the top of your knee to just shy of the material that stopped him from venturing further.

"Something blue," you whisper.

He nods. Lets his nose rest against it. You've sprayed it with your perfume. He fucking loves your perfume. You've been wearing the same one since he met you, and it always gets him a little heated at times he shouldn't be. 

Isn't his fault though. He thinks you conditioned him. 

And yeah, maybe you had sprayed it in his car vents on more than one occasion, and maybe you had deliberately layered a pheromone-infused oil beneath it that entire first summer. Not your fault he happened to like it a little too much. Not his fault the scent always takes him back to those stolen moments with you.

Jungkook's teeth sink into the material. Draw it back. Let it ping against your skin.

"Kook," you whisper, as if your hands aren't in his hair.

His hands push further up your legs. Both of them, now. They reveal the lacey white underwear you purchased especially for the big event. It's a matching set.

"Thank God it's not a Church wedding," he husks, a sigh exhaling. His breath tantalisingly chills your now-wet folds. So inconvenient. "You'd burn the second you stepped inside."

Jungkook's lips trail further. Leave little evidence. He's learned how to do that over the years. Has left no traces of himself, well, ever.

There's hustle and bustle in the garden out of the rear window. A traditional-style wooden screen preserves your dignity; hides your Gyeongsang-pa goonie from sight.

The venue wasn't your choice. It's Gyeongsang territory, for a start. Your father had said it would be good. Would help with the treaty. Very little about your 'party' has been planned by you. Like most of your life, your father has an iron vice on proceedings.

Your underwear was the one thing you had total control over. Had even considered wearing none at all, as a bit of a 'fuck you'.

Jungkook pauses. Takes in the sight of you. Grips the flesh of your upper thighs. Curses to himself. 

It feels like he's staring at your lace-covered cunt for an eternity before his lips finally press against it. Your grip in his hair tightens.

You'll need to change your underwear before you walk down the aisle. That's fine. This underwear was never intended for anything other than this, regardless.

Because while yes, the groom shouldn't see the bride ahead of the ceremony, it's not like that matters here. Jungkook was always going to see you before the wedding.

His lips are slow as he withdraws, and simply says, "Something borrowed."

The implication is heavy; heart-stopping. Cataclysmic.

"By you?" You whisper, as his deep dark eyes meet yours.

He looks so pretty in defeat. It pains you - but you both know this is the least painful outcome for you both.

Jungkook shakes his head. Let your dress gather by the floor. Smooths it over. Reclines into his chair.

"By Min fuckin' Yoongi."

Neither of you speak for a moment. Hearing his name, especially uttered from Jungkook's lips, makes your blood run cold. For so long, you've avoided the topic.

It's impossible, now.

See, it doesn't matter if Jungkook sees you before the ceremony.

He's not your groom.

Yoongi is.

He's your counterpart; the son of the Gyeongsang-pa King. A marriage born out of a sacred treaty between the gangs; the promise that together they'll obliterate Sudogwon's unruly mobs that have been making their way south in recent years.

"It's not too late," Jungkook whispers.

But it is, and you both know it. You've come too far to back out now.

Negotiations have been made. Peace treaties signed. Deals across clans finalised.

You're Honam's Princess, but one day you'll be Gyeongsang-pa's Queen.

Jungkook will only ever be a pauper chasing after the big boys.

So you'll say your vows and exchange your rings, and Jungkook won't object.

He'll sit quietly, like a good boy should, and watch you seal your fate.

Will watch Min Yoongi slide a wedding band onto your ring finger.

Will smile to himself when notices your engagement ring holding it in place a few months from now.

Will remind himself of the old tales that go hand in hand with opal engagement rings. If the legends are anything to go by, you'll be a widow within four years. He can wait that long. Has waited far longer, already.

And if, by four years, his time still hasn't come?

Kings can be overthrown. Jungkook is as Jopok as they come. He'll fight dirty.

For you?

He thinks he'll fight to the death.

"You're too good for Gyeongsang," he tells you, neck stretched, the crown of his head resting between his shoulder blades. You're scratching at his hair, looking at him.

With a smile, you shrug. "I'll still be Honam. For you, I'll be Honam."

Jungkook nods. Closes his eyes. Leans into your touch.

"My Honam girl," he says quietly, and it makes you wish that you had just run away with him that very first summer. You'd suggested it after you first thought you had lost your necklace. Thought it would be the only way to keep one another safe - until Jungkook found it between the seats.

You'd thanked the God that you don't believe in at the time. Clutched the necklace over your heart, head tipped to the heavens, all while Jungkook looked only at you. Lucky, he'd said, unaware that it was the worst possible outcome for you both.

You should've run.

Should've fuckin' run.

"Go," you whisper, knowing it's too late for any of that now. "We've got a party to attend, and you can't show up in a pair of sweats."

He likes that you don't call it a wedding, either. Nods. Also knows he can't be caught sneaking from your room. There'd be hell to pay.

Jungkook gets to his feet. Kisses your cheek. Tell you how pretty you look. Slowly walks to the door, then turns to look at you one final time. Spares you from a final remark that could make you feel even worse about the situation.

"Kook?" You call, just because you can't bear to let him leave. Not yet. It's too soon.

He hums a response. Doesn't open the door just yet. Waits for you to speak.

"I wish we never met."

Jungkook looks at his feet. Smiles. Nods. 

"Me, too, babe."  And then, just because he needs it to be known, "I love you."

You don't turn to face him.

"I love you, too."

[greenboyfriend]

choose a... thing! (tarot card reading)

image source "what do you need to know?" spaghetti monster: what is that, pipe cleaner? affixed to some... nuts? hey, don't take that the wrong way. ploom the caterpillar: i don't even have the words to describe this thing. desert rain frog: ">:(" book a reading through dm/ask!

spaghetti monster・。.・゜✭

it's time to stop dwelling on the past! yes, you've probably experienced some sort of heartache, whether that be through betrayal, loneliness, or a bit of both. rest assured, in letting go, you will be off to bigger, and much better things. one of your cards is specific to this deck: the future. this emphasizes that now is THE time to move on! leave what has been hurting you behind-- it's leaving whether you want it to or not. this is a major point in your life, as signified by death and amplified by the future, which can (and will!) heed significant results. the hierophant tells you that the answers you seek will be found through joining with others, most likely an organization of some kind. you must be part of the group, working and striving with others to make the change you seek. heartache doesn't last forever, but what you're about to do with this group will. it's a long road, but at the end of it is happiness, fortune, and abundance abound!!! hey, this is a lot more cheerful than the last one! yahoo!

(the future [from the transient light tarot], 10 of pentacles reversed, the hierophant, 3 of swords reversed, death reversed)

ploom the caterpillar・。.・゜✭

another spread about letting go!!! except this one feels more pertinent. well, let's be real, the last one was pretty dire, too... anyway. my little caterpillars, your cards are less about the past or future, and more about the present. in fact, only about the present! the 10 of wands shows that you've been shouldering too much on your back, likely relating to self consciousness, some sort of inability to say "no", and/or difficulty especially in regards to living in the moment. but here's the thing... you've gotta. the hanged man puts it clearly: in order to get what you want, this situation requires you completely let go of whatever it is you've been holding onto. whether that's how you're being perceived or otherwise, it must be shed. the hanged man is upside down, able to see the world from a completely different perspective. try to change how you see things. live in the present moment and see what you notice; what changes when you give your entire attention to what someone is saying? or the thing you're doing? is everything really as you thought it was after seeing it from this new perspective? however you need to enact this change, the time to strike is right fucking now, baby. the engines are revving and ready to GO!!! don't be scared, what happens next is destiny. o_<~✭

(8 of wands, the hanged man, 10 of wands, the present reversed [from the transient light tarot.])

desert rain frog・。.・゜✭

like those who picked pile 2, the time for movement is NOW, my little froggies! you must declare yourself openly!! you are blessed to have a good head on your shoulders, being intelligent and good at handling authority. however! moving forwards, you will need to learn how to temper this energy (knight of swords). sometimes, this can go too far, where unadulterated words can hurt someone, coming across as blunt. it's true that you do know a lot about the world, but you need to let there be space for others' observations and knowledge. you can't possibly know everything! after making this big declaration, or finding this missing piece of the puzzle, you will get to the heart of the matter, to sift between what is true, what is fake, and to learn what to say-- versus what to definitely not say. a useful asset later on will be using the energy of the queen of cups, which means you must react to others through compassion and kindness, and try to be in tune with their emotional undercurrents. easier said than done, right? however, with the use of your intuition and logic combined, it will be much easier to wade through this future situation. in the meantime, i'd use that talkative knight of swords energy to propel yourself towards... whatever it is you need to propel yourself towards. here's a tip, whenever i feel a lightness in my chest, i know the answer's yes, but a pit in my stomach, be expected to plummet!!!... or, um, "no" would be the answer for that one. good luck! im also getting that some (3?) of you have some sort of.. "telepathic bond." no idea what that means! good luck with that, too, though.

(8 of wands, knight of swords, ace of swords reversed, queen of cups reversed)

[ranahan]

Mando’a masterpost

Most of my Mando’a linguistic nerdery you should be able to find under the hashtags #mando’a linguistics and #ranah talks mando’a. Specific topics like phonology and etymology are tagged on newer posts but not necessarily on older. I also reblog lots of other people’s fantastic #mando’a stuff, which many of these posts are replies to.

I also post about #mandalorian culture, other #meta: mandalorians and #star wars meta topics, #star wars languages, #conlangs, and #linguistics. I like to reblog well-reasoned and/or interesting takes on Star Wars and Mandalorian politics, but I am not pro or contra fictional characters or organisations, only pro good storytelling. You can use the featured tags to navigate most of these topics. Not Star Wars content tag is #not star wars, although if it’s on this blog, likely it’s tangentially related or at least Mandalorian-coded.

Currently working on an expanded dictionary and an analysis of canon Mando’a. Updates under #mando’a project. Here are my thoughts on using my stuff (tldr: please do). My askbox is open & I’d love to hear which words, roots or other features you want to see dissected next.

#Phonology

Mando’a vowels

Murmured sounds in Mando’a

Ven’, ’ne and ’shya—phonology of Mando’a affixes

#Morphology

Mando’a demonyms: -ad or -ii?

Agent nouns in Mando’a

Reduplication in Mando’a

Verbal conjugation in Ancient Mando’a & derivations in Modern Mando’a

-nn

Adjectival suffixes (this one is skierunner’s theory, but dang it’s good and it’s on my post, so I’m including it)

e-, i- (prefix) “-ness”

#Syntax

Middle Mando’a creole hypothesis — Relative tenses — Tense, aspect and mood & creole languages — Copula and zero copula in creole languages — More thoughts about Mando’a TAM particles

Mando’a tense/aspect/mood (headcanons)

Mando’a has no passive

Adjectives as passive voice & other strategies

Colloquial Mando’a

Alienable/inalienable possession — more thoughts

Translating wh-words into Mando’a

#Roots, words & etymology

ad ‘child’—but also many other things

adenn, ‘wrath’

akaan & naak: war & peace

an ‘all’ + a collective suffix & plural collectives

ba’ & bah

*bir-, birikad, birgaan & again

cetar ‘kneel’

cinyc & shiny

gai’ka, ka’gaht, la’mun

jagyc, ori’jagyc & misandry

janad

*ka-, kakovidir & cardinal directions

ke’gyce ‘order, command’

*maan-, manda, gai bal manda, kir’manir, ramaan & kar’am & runi: ‘soul’ & ‘spirit’

*nor- & *she- ‘back’ (+ bonus *resh-)

projor ‘next’

riduurok, riduur, kom’rk, shuk’orok

*sak-, sakagal ‘cross’

*sen- ‘fly’

tapul

urmankalar ‘believe’

*ver- ‘earn’

*ya-, yai, yaim (& flyby mentions of eyayah, eyaytir, gayiyla, gayiylir, aliit)

Dialectal English & slang in Mando’a

#Non-canon words

Mining vocabulary

Non-canon reduplications

Many words for many Mandalorians

What’s the word for “greater mandalorian space”?

Names of Mandalorian planets

Dral’Han & derived words

besal ‘silver, steel grey’

derivhaan

hukad & hukal, ’sheath, scabbard’

*maan-, manda, kar’am & runi: ‘soul’ & ‘spirit’ & derivations

mara/maru, ‘amber-root’

*sen- ‘fly’ derivations

tarisen ‘swoop bike’

*ver- ‘earn’ derivations

#mando’a proverbs

#mando’a idioms

Pragmatics & ethnolinguistics

Middle Mando’a creole hypothesis

History of Mando’a — Loanwords in Mando’a

Mando’a timeline

Mandalorian languages

#mandalorian sign language

Kinship terms

Politeness in Mando’a: gedet’ye & ba’gedet’ye — vor entye, vor’e, n’entye — vor’e etc. again — n’eparavu takisit, ni ceta

Mandalorians and medicine, baar’ur, triage

#Mandalorian colour theory (#mandalorians and color): cin & purity, colour associations & orange, cin, ge’tal, saviin & besal, gemstone symbolism

#Mandalorian nature, Flora and fauna of Manda’yaim

starry road

Concordian dialogue retcon

A short history of the Mandalorian Empire

Mandalorian clans & government headcanons

Mando’a handwriting guide: part 1, part 2, part 3

What I would have done differently if I had constructed Mando’a

FAQ

Can you answer a question about combat medicine? May I direct you to my post about Free tactical medicine learning resources.

Can I use your words/headcanons in my own projects? Short answer: yes please.

Do you do translations? If I happen to be in the mood or your translation question is interesting. Feel free to bomb my inbox, but don’t expect quick answers.

What’s your stance on Satine Kryze and the New Mandalorians? They’re fictional and I don’t have one beyond their narrative being interesting & wishing that fandom would have civil conversations about them without calling each other names.

Why do you portray Mandalorians as multi-racial and gender-agnostic when they’re not that diverse in canon? Because that’s the power of transformative works: to create the kind of representation we want to see in a world where it’s lacking.

LGBTQIA? I don’t stand for any shade of discrimination. If I say something insensitive, rest assured it’s because I temporarily misplaced my other brain cell, not because of malice.

NSFW? No. This is a linguistics blog, so cursing and some explicit vocabulary should be expected—slang is one of my interests, and vulgar language comes with the territory—but no porn here. I don’t believe in nudity or sex in themselves being taboo topics and I was a medic for a good chunk of my life, so frank discussions about sex education/medical/anatomical/trauma topics might also happen. I’ll try to tag if these topics come up, but frankly my own explicitness- and gore-meter is kinda broken after a career in emergency medicine, so things might slip by.

Asks under #ranah answers

P.s. Let me know if the links don’t work or something else is wrong (some items don’t have links, they are articles in my draft folder/queue which I’ve listed here so they don’t get lost—sorry for the tease!). Also please tell me if you need me to tag something I haven’t so you can filter it: this blog is for readers—if I was writing just for myself, I wouldn’t bother to edit and publish—so let me know what I can do to make it work better for you. Thanks!

[berryberrytaeberry]

You know what time it is!

It's ✨️brainrot about morphology and Lestat✨️ time!

Yes, at the same time! Obviously...

So, when I finished s2 of iwtv, I hadn't yet engaged with the fandom. I hadn't also yet read the books or seen the movie. Ya girl was a blank--albeit mortally hyperfixated on Lestat--state.

And so, as any self-respecting linguist (me) would do, I started making up words to really narrow in on my Lestat feelings. I decided, that I would prefix any lestat related item with Le-

Ex 1:

The Lesauce : me being in the sauce about Lestat

Ex 2:

The Lecoffin : Lestat's coffin

Ex 3:

The Lesuit : THEEE pinstripe suit s2 ep7 iykyk

Ex 4:

The Lewaist : Sam Reid's waist

Ex 5:

The Lewalk : how Lestat walks

And this is all fine and dandy WE LOVE morphemes and making words

But THEN I started engaging with the fandom. So then I learned about them calling hallucination Lestat, Dreamstat.

I'd come into contact this time with a SUFFIX: -stat

So here's where I really locked in on creating linguistic masterpieces. And I started reading the book. And I watched the movie. SOON EVERYTHING WAS -STAT-ED

Samstat : Sam Reid as Lestat

Tomstat : Tom Cruise as Lestat

Bookstat : Lestat in book

Swampstat : Tomstat dropped in swamp

Flamestat : Tomstat set on fire

Redeemedstat : Lestat but redeemed

Sadstat : Lestat but sad

And so on, so forth, ad infinitum

But here's WHATS COOL. (Get your linguist hats on kids, we're gonna look at some negative examples to figure out the meaning of these morphemes). These affixes can only be used under certain conditions!!!

*Lesam : incorrect lestat-ification of Sam Reid

*Suitstat : incorrect lestat-ification of s2 ep7 pinstripe suit

HOWEVER

Suitstat : Lestat but in a suit

So MY CONCLUSION BEING:

in my idiolect, I prefix nouns and verbs with Le- to mark said noun and verb as being uniquely lestat-ish.

Le- : Lestat describes X.

And I suffix nouns and adjectives with -stat to describe a form of Lestat in a specific way.

-stat : X describes lestat

Soooo it makes sense why Suitstat can only convey the meaning of "Lestat modified by the fact he is wearing a suit" and not referring to the actual suit itself, that is uniquely Lestat-ish. Because that would be Lesuit.

Is this something?

[yukimomodivorce]

Unecessarily long explanation/analysis of what Re:vale's name might mean

I don't know how to start this ok so basically this post and these tags from @nitunio

inspired me to try to explain my own interpretation and I maybe accidentally spent several days looking into the etymology in the process and now I have more to say about it than I did initially. So I wanna start by outlining every potentially relevant definition/use of re and vale that I found and then I'm gonna talk about how some of them relate to Re:vale. This post has sections and a reference list baby let's go

1: Definitions of re

1. In music terms, re is the second syllabic note in a diatonic scale (do re mi etc.)

2. Re: specifically with a colon at the end is often used as an abbreviation of 'reply' (especially in emails) and/or as the Latin re meaning 'regarding' or 'in reference to'

3. In most cases, re as a prefix/affix indicates 'back' (as in return) or 'again' (as in repetition)

2: Definitions of vale

1. The Middle English vale (pronounced like veil) is another term for valley (derived from the Latin vallis), used in literary/poetic contexts or place names to mean:

A low stretch of land surrounded by hills or mountains, usually with a river flowing through it

The world or mortal life (figuratively and often with connotations of sorrow or hardship, such as in the phrase "vale of tears")

2. In most modern uses, the Latin vale means 'farewell' or 'goodbye', especially in the context of death (apparently this is really common in Australia? I've never heard it before)

3. This use is derived from valeō (or present infinitive valēre), which basically means 'be well/healthy' - so vale in Latin means 'goodbye' in the sense of wishing someone good health, safe travels etc.

Valeō/valēre can also denote strength and worth, and it's the root of both valour and value

4. From what I can find, vale in Spanish is mainly used as a colloquial term similar to 'OK' or 'cool' in English, but it's an inflection of valer which can mean 'valid' or 'worth' and is also derived from the Latin valēre! everything is connected :D

TLDR two main uses of vale both derived from Latin: vallis meaning valley and valeō meaning to be well/healthy/strong/worth

3: What 1 year and 4 months of being a Re:vale fan does to a man

Yuki and Momo's symbols are both repeats, and the two dots (resembling a colon) are what distinguish repeats from final barlines in sheet music (more of me rambling about their symbols here - it's also where the design on their rings comes from, which is something that I keep realising and then instantly forgetting about).

Considering this, I think that the most relevant and likely intended meaning of the 're:' in Re:vale is repeat - we also see English words with the prefix used in this sense pretty frequently with Re-raise, 'revive' and 'rebirth' in Dis one., and 'restart' and 'reborn' in Period Colour. The 'back' aspect also has some significance here, especially in Re:member (the word remember doesn't mean you're like. membering again. it refers to memories. but the title re:member is very intentionally split that way because re:vale both gains and loses a member, so it works with both the again and back implications. anyways). This is also a bit of a recurring theme in i7, what with the whole "the ideal idol is one that doesn't end" thing.

Turning our attention to vale as in valley, once you look into it the whole "vale of tears" meaning doesn't really align with Re:vale unless you only interpret their story as a tragedy, but if you were to look it up and just see the definition "the world" with very little context, then it seems pretty fitting for the most famous currently active idols in the Idolish7 universe. But it actually symbolises how they mean the world to me and also to each other. And the figurative world of suffering that they have put me through thank you and goodnight. Just kidding there's more. I would say something about the valley (landform) and how Yuki is the river and Momo and Banri are the surrounding hills but you get the idea. Momo would live by the river...... he wouldlive by the river. I think about this every day

Anyways. So I really can't say how much of this is intentional but the 'goodbye' vale is especially accurate if you consider the underlying meaning - it's a way of saying goodbye, but it's also sort of a way of saying good luck and be strong. It's the same as how Banri has to say goodbye to Re:vale, but he also tells Yuki to "find a place to sing as yourself". And valour is kind of Trigger's thing (see: valiant) but reaching a little further for the 'value' meaning, it goes back to the whole Mikansei Na Bokura thing - all three of Re:vale's members had to lose something important to them, but the time they spent with it was still valuable and in the end they're able to retain those experiences and move forward to something just as valuable. In the end the name is a bit of a cluster of things vaguely related to them but I guess if you put it together it's like. The repetition of them saying this to each other. Yeah Momo after his injury getting that push from Yuki and Ban's concert to start saying goodbye and moving on and yeah like nitu said him affirming Yuki. Banri saying goodbye/I can't be there next to you anymore but I'll cheer you on from the sidelines and remember the time we spent together fondly and be able to smile once we meet again (<- from the end of his re:member pov). Yuki stabbing me 12 million times in the chest I mean um. Yuki... yeah I'm gonna need another 14 days to write that post let me get back to you on that one. But you get the idea. You get it

I think I had another point somewhere in here but this post has been sitting in my drafts for ages and I still haven't thought of it. But thank you very much for reading if you've gotten this far!!! As a reward you get a hug from me and the reference list :D

4: References

These aren't organised well at all but hopefully it's not too bad

Australian Writers' Centre: Q&A: The Origin of 'Vale'

Dictionary.com: Re • Vale

The English Idolish7 Wiki (my beloved)

Reddit: Contextual Use of "Vale"

Wiktionary: Vale • Valer • Valeō

also the google definitions of most of these terms but idk how to link those and I can't be bothered

[utopianoverlord]

🎵 playlist cover tutorial (& psd)

In this tutorial, I'll be going over how to make a character-centric playlist cover using my template

✨ Firstly, thank you so much @withered-rose-with-thorns for your kind words on my edits and interest in learning how to make these! 😊

The core of our process is thankfully a simple one. We'll be using the clipping mask function to affix a character cutout and textures to 3 specific primary layers. Here, I'll walk through remaking a cover similar to that of my Vi playlist. To begin, download the following:

cover template (mega.nz)

My template is 400x400px in overall size and mainly features 3 named layers.

1.) CUTOUT — With the template ready to rock, we'll start by working on the heart of the edit, which is getting the character cutout for the portrait layer. (As a general rule, always try to use the highest quality images/shots for projects whenever possible.) In this example, I've used the Pen tool to free Vi from her scene:

For creating precise cutouts I will only ever recommend using the Pen tool, as anchor points allow the most control in achieving the cleanest results. If you're unfamiliar with the Pen tool and its settings, here's a 60-second guide to the basics. (i.e. connecting anchor points all the way around your character from the start to end > Make Selection > set Feather Radius to 0 and have anti-alias checked for smooth edges) Once you've made your selection, if you need, you can change the cutout size by using the Transform Controls or simply adjusting the overall Image Size.

2.) PORTRAIT LAYER — Back on planet template, we'll focus on the "middle portrait" layer. Above each of the 3 main layers is one titled *top clipping mask*, which we'll keep at the top for all. This is a means of ensuring all new layers created beneath it will stay clipped to the primary layer (as indicated by the little arrow pointing downward to the left of each mini thumbnail image). You can simply drag your cutout to the template, or just copy & paste it in a new layer, and use the Move tool to position the image how you'd like. (If any layer accidentally unclips, right click it and select Create Clipping Mask or just hit that Alt+Ctrl+G)

With your image now in position, you can then change the portrait background color by creating a new fill layer > Solid Color. Double-click the Solid Color layer to change the color at any time. Your cutout layer should sit atop the Solid Color layer and beneath the *top clipping mask* layer, as shown above.

3.) BACKGROUND LAYER — The bottom-most layer is our background color layer, which is gray by default. Feel free to adjust this Solid Color layer any time to your preference. Now with the basics covered (your cutout, middle portrait background color, and background color), let's add a texture or two! Since we're on the background layer now, I've downloaded and resized this unsplash texture and made it a new, clipped layer.

Experimenting with the Blend Modes and Opacity is key (and super fun)! Here, I've set my texture layer to Subtract with a 50% Opacity.

On top of the texture layer, I've added a couple of adjustment layers and color layers using the Brush tool for the sizzle.

4.) PORTRAIT LAYER — Back on the middle portrait layer, we can add a texture layer here a s we've done for the background, though if you prefer you can leave the portrait background as a solid color. For the purpose of the tutorial, I've downloaded this graffiti texture from unsplash and added it as a new layer, changing the Blend Mode and Opacity.

By experimenting with the Blend Mode on your texture layer, adjustment & color layers, you can create all kinds of wild effects to fit your subject and mood of your playlist.

In addition to fiddling with the portrait layer, I've also sharpened my Vi cutout and added adjustment layers above it - such as Vibrance, Color Balance and Curves - to make her shine against the saturation of the colors surrounding her.

When you're all done, save your cover as a .png to retain high-quality compression.

You may have noticed that we didn't make any adjustments to the 3rd "white border" layer after all, which is on purpose! Depending on what look you'd like to create for your cover, and knowing how a clipping mask works from previous steps, the set-up has been prepped to change as you please, if you please.

And if you've read this far, thank you! I appreciate you, and I hope you found some useful information. You're welcome to download the finalized Vi psd cover I made for this tutorial.

Happy Creating! 🧡

[yersina]

a linguist plays chants of sennaar (pt 2)

[pt 1] [x] [pt 3] [pt 4] [pt 5]

the linguistic journey continues!

disclaimer: can't promise that i'll have any insights that a layperson wouldn't have, this is kinda just me thinking through the grammar of the language out loud haha.

this post covers the second language and will contain spoilers! it also assumes that you know what the symbols mean already.

(my dictionary is missing some symbols bc i missed part of the gameplay that would've prompted me to fill them in)

immediately, visually just looks different from the devotee's language, which is super cool! reminiscent of runic alphabets, kind of. i'm assuming that's a creative/artistic decision to indicate the 'toughness' of the warriors or something. not sure if the game developers would've put thought into this, but i also wonder if this is a representation of the materials that those people would've written on (w the devotees being more clay/stone based and the warriors being more stone/metal based). unclear!

in the warrior's language, the verbs generally have a diamond shape, though it's not as consistent to identify as the devotee language's line. the people-related words are kinda tall and skinny, with a stick in the middle?? again, the devotee's language was the most pictographically representative of the bunch--the warrior's language is a little less obvious. i interpreted "treasure" and "fortress" as being location-nouns due to their similar triangle shape, but the translation for "treasure" obv doesn't convey that (i originally labeled "treasure" as "treasury"). i also find it interesting that "death" bears so much resemblance to "impure". in my mind, "death" and "impure" are in the same category as the other people-nouns due to the appearance of the characters, but that might just be coincidence. could possibly suggest some cultural beliefs around who or what "death" is tho!

grammatically, this language is also SVO, like the devotee's language and like english. instead of reduplication, we have a plural marker for nouns, which seems to act like an affix (prefix, specifically) rather than a root word. i will say—i'm not a fan of the translation of "impure" and "chosen" and subsequent plurals as "impure ones" and "chosen ones". not a huge deal, but translating them that way makes them seem like adjectives when they're not, especially considering how they translate <plural bottle> as "bottles". just doesn't seem consistent, but it's a v small pet peeve haha. (while writing this, i briefly considered the idea of "impure" and "chosen" as adjectives modifying "one" but we know that's not true—not just bc the game gives us a translation that says "plural" but also it's used with "warrior" and other objects to indicate plurality too. we also know that this language uses prepositive modifiers from sentences like "carry (the) small crate", so "impure" and "chosen" wouldn't be functioning correctly as adjectives anyway, as long as we assume that the language is consistent in this aspect of grammar.)

although this isn't entirely consistent across all of the languages and for all of the words, it seems that there's a trend that function words (as opposed to content words) tend to be visually simpler--this would include things like "up/great" from the devotee language, pronouns, and i'm also going to go ahead and include "not" and "plural" in this category. this isn't an unsurprising trend--i feel like in irl languages, the more grammatical a word/word component is, the simpler/easier to write it tends to be. we find that the plural marker in the warrior, bard, and alchemist languages are all relatively simple, which also makes them easier to identify when encountering them for the first time. i felt like this also makes the warrior's language interesting, in that the words for "small", "big", "bottle", "trolley", "call", and "moon" are also all relatively simple compared to the rest of the words. (i originally identified "small" and "big" as "this" and "that" because of this.) it might indicate something about the importance of these words in the warriors' culture? or i might just be reading too far into it lol.

questions that remain unanswered: - i wonder why "fear" breaks from the other verbs in terms of appearance (with the vertical line making the diamond part smaller) - i'm a bit too tired/impatient to go through the verbs in this language, but i wonder if there's some pattern to their appearance (since some of them look more similar than others)

[duchess-kyuupid]

Twst Men and How to Fluster Them

How should one go about teasing their love to get that desirable shade of red on their faces?

[GN! Reader / Suggestive, but SFW] *All of these are pre-relationship and you trying to flirt with him*

~~Heartslabyul Edition~~ [Pt. 2]

[Ft. Trey and Cater] <3

Trey - When you straighten out his hat for him + When you enjoy his desserts - It was time for yet another un-birthday party at the Heartslabyul dorm, and Trey had invited you to come along, despite the fact you were from the Ramshackle dorm. - His intentions on inviting you were quite innocent- he just wanted you to try out a new tart recipe that he made specifically for this (non)event, and he even asked Riddle if it was alright for you to come too! - But then the day finally came and Trey found himself getting increasingly nervous by the minute. Like, of course, they'd like it, everyone tells him that he's a master at baking! And if they don't like it, then, well....He could always just switch the taste to something that he knows that you like, right? (It's not as if he's poured his heart and soul into this one single tart just for you) - And so the hours slowly ticked by and it was time for the un-birthday party to start. Following the usual proceedings of the party under the Queen's watchful eye, Trey found you talking amongst some of the other card soldiers of the dorm. - And out of the corner of your eye, you see Trey looking in your direction, and you excuse yourself from the conversation to go to him, after all, he promised you first dibs on his new tart recipe! There was no way that you were going to let this chance pass you by in the unfortunate event that someone (ahem, Ace and Grim) gets to it before you do. - "Hello, Trey!" you exclaim as you approach his person, and you notice that his attire, while rather dashing (you could never get over how handsome he looks in his formal dorm uniform, but that topic is for another day), was looking a bit misshapen. He was fidgeting with his glasses and straightening his clothes, but the assortment of accessories were all slightly off center, especially his hat in particular. On such a windy day like this, you were surprised that his hat hadn't just blown away in the wind yet, so when you were close enough to him, you reached up on your toes and affixed his hat in the correct space. - "Sorry, your hat just looked like it was going to come off any minute! But you look nice, as always Trey!" you beam at him innocently. - Now, you knew just from his body language that Trey was already super nervous about something- you just didn't know what. You had your suspicions that maybe Trey had forgotten to paint a few of the roses or something similar to that effect about the rules, but then you noticed that his face started turning into the brightest shade of pink you've ever seen on him. - You didn't want to make any assumptions that he was getting flustered because you had simply fixed his hat (it would be rather embarrassing if you were wrong about this, after all), so you decided that it would be a great idea to test this hypothesis further. I mean, his hat wasn't the only accessory that was crooked, after all. - Eventually Trey manages to take you to the tart that you've been looking forward to since you've gotten here (little did he know that, at this moment, you cared more about how to tease Trey even more, rather than the dessert itself) - So with eyes full of anticipation, he watched you grab the first slice of the tart (with the Queen's permission, of course) and take the first bite. - Well, your initial plan was to keep teasing him about his flushed face and nervousness, but you forgot all about those plans as the tart was so full of deliciousness that you almost began to cry. It was possibly one of the best tarts you've ever tasted in your life. The crust was crisp and flakey, but not too fragile nor too soggy! The inside of the tart was filled with a mixture of your favorite fruits  and a mouthwatering filling that made it almost impossible to resist another bite. - Oh, the relief that he felt in his heart when he watched you enjoy the tart he made as he was thinking of you. Just watching you gave him enough happiness to last him the rest of his lifetime, but then he came to a sudden realization... Maybe he wants you to stay by his side. Just a bit longer.

Cater - When you send private messages to his Magicam - Well, after you explained to Cater that the only reason why you didn't have a phone was because you were sent to this world without yours, Cater decided (in all his generosity!) to buy you a new one himself. - Of course, he told you that the main reason for this purchase was so that you could follow his Magicam, but you know Cater well enough by now that he's also just worried about you- but he'd never admit it. 'If you were stranded somewhere and without a phone, how would he be able to find you? You're completely defenseless without being able to use magic too!' you'd imagine that to be his true thoughts on the matter, or at least you hoped so. - So of course you graciously accepted his gift- you really did miss having a phone, and it's not everyday that you find someone willing to buy one for you. - So as a little thank you to Cater, you made an account on Magicam and started following him. You noticed that the app worked very similar (if not exactly like) Instagram, so you had no problems at all getting used to the UI and it's functions. But Cater didn't know that~ - You decide that a little bit of teasing wouldn't hurt him, so you take a picture of yourself holding a card (a two of diamonds to be exact) in between your lips and a wink to the camera. - An ungodly amount of time was used in making sure that everything was exactly as you wanted it (you really, really hope that Cater never learns about how nervous you were about sending this to him- what if he thinks it's cringey, and doesn't take you seriously after this? This is you trying your hardest to flirt with him, what if he reacts negatively?). But after a while, you shake your head and decide that you were probably just overthinking things, so you take the leap of faith and send it to his private messages (you would probably die if you posted this publicly- you were never too big on posting things online in your own world either, after all).

Hey Cay-cay!! First time posting, is this how it works? How about we both go play cards later, just you and I? ;) Loser has to confess who their crush is~ #thankyouCater #letsplaytogether

- Well, Cater was in the middle of finishing up his homework in his room when he got a Magicam notification on his phone. On pure instinct, he pulls it out to go look at what it is, and, while he didn't know what he was expecting, he surely wasn't expecting this. - His face flared up immediately and a little giddy smile erupted on his face when he saw your message. 'Well, that's not technically how hashtags work, but you're just too cute for him to say anything about it,' he thinks, saving the picture to his phone. - He actually debated on whether or not he should make the picture his new wallpaper. Like, if he made it his wallpaper, he could see your face every day, multiple times a day- every time he looks at his phone! Who wouldn't want that? Ah, but then, he really wouldn't be able to get off of his phone, and Professor Trein is already on his case about being on his phone during class. And if he makes you his wallpaper, he wouldn't even be on his Magicam! He honestly could spend hours just looking at your face, and he's certain that he wouldn't be able to resist when he's in the middle of boring classes. So, alas, he came to the conclusion that it was probably not a great idea in the long term to make that photo into his wallpaper.

Sure thing! But be ready to spill the beans on your crush, cuz there's NO WAY I'm gonna be losing to you anytime soon~ #gameon #getreadytolose

-Well, he might be a little scared about the outcome of your little game (what if your crush ends up to be someone that's not him? What if he is the one who has to admit to you that he's been head over heels since you first met?), but that's a problem for another time. If it makes you happy, he'd do whatever it takes. - But for now though, he's happy knowing that you enjoy hanging out with him and now the two of you can chat together whenever you want. This new phone for you was absolutely worth every penny, he thinks.

~~~~~

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CATER <33333 [2/4]

I'm glad that so many people enjoyed the first part! I went to sleep after posting part 1 and woke up to find that it already had over 100 notes 😖😖 Thank you to everyone who enjoyed reading my first fanfiction blurbs! And to clarify, I DO plan on making this headcannon piece for everyone in all dorms~ You're just going to have to give me some time to cook it up lol

[wheeljack-boom]

Entropy pt. 3

Full writing can be found here.

A brief snippet of an unexpected Decepticon attack against an unsuspecting human. Mild warning for violence and creepy behavior.

Non- specific Transformers AU with human OC.

Maybe Allison should have been grateful that the most eventful thing to happen in days was the chaos at work when no one could figure out who had checked in the gigantic stereo in the back room. Allison had never seen such a thing, so it had to have been some sort of commercial brand; maybe for DJ or some sort of large dance club. It took up almost the entire back wall in the store room. Allison hadn’t worked the evening before it simply appeared in the workshop, so as far as she was concerned it was everyone else’s problem to figure out who hadn’t done the paperwork properly.

Since no one could figure out where it had come from, no one could start work on it until the boss came in the next morning, so it sat there while Allison closed the shop for the night. Before she did her usual routine checks she sat in the office rifling through customer contacts to see if any company names stood out that would be missing a giant stereo. There was a weird energy in the air that night and Allison couldn’t quite explain it. Something just felt off, and the whole time she was in the office she had this eerie sense that she was being watched. It was so quiet she was starting to get annoyed with the sound of her own breathing. Then the music started playing.

It was so sudden, and so loud Allison almost thought something had exploded. Instinctively she dropped what she was holding and clamped her hands over her ears, the thudding pulse of the bass threatening to make her burst from within. It took several seconds to realize she was hearing rock music and that it was coming through the mystery stereo. She recognized the song, an old early 80’s tune that her dad used to listen to, but it was infinitely less appealing when played at full volume. Stumbling out of the office, she fumbled with several buttons through sheer disoriented confusion before finally managing to turn it off. The silence was oppressive.

It took several more seconds for Allison to realize she was hearing her own heartbeat as she stood there staring perplexed at the stereo for entirely too long. She guessed it was obvious why it needed repair. Looking around, she found several dials that looked like they pertained to volume, so she cranked them all the way to the left in the zero position. It would be incredibly unlucky if the thing were to turn on in the middle of the night when no one was there. If it stayed on any longer she was afraid it would bring the whole building down. 

Now that she was rattled, Allison decided that she wanted to get through her closing tasks as soon as possible and get home. It was getting dark out, and she could hear rain finally starting to cut into the evening’s silence as it began pattering against the windows. She was in the midst of collecting trash when the music started again. At full volume. 

This time she froze, something telling her that this was not quite right as a cold fear rippled down her body. Someone had to be playing a prank with some kind of Bluetooth remote, or wireless activation, there was no other explanation. She ran back to the stereo and slapped at the buttons in a panic to turn it off again. 

Several more minutes went by as she stared at it. The face of the stereo was nondescript. It was an attractive navy blue offset with silver and black accents, with just about everything one would expect on a stereo. It had two unusually large antennae affixed to the back edges, which was sort of odd by modern standards. There was no branding or writing of any kind, just a sleek looking emblem on an edge that looked like it represented some sort of street brand, or maybe some DJ or club’s logo. It was angular and smooth, sort of like a face. 

Reflexively, it made Allison think of Wheeljack again, and that made her annoyed enough to turn her back to the stereo once again to finish up her closing duties. She hadn’t been thinking about him all day, which pissed her off more than it should have. Allison actually thought she was starting to feel close to normal until—

Stopping in the doorway to the office, something suddenly struck her that she hadn’t immediately noticed. It was a delayed reaction to something that hit her peripheral and something was nagging at her that she couldn’t quite shake. When it reached the forefront of her logical thinking she stilled, her breath catching as she realized the anomaly that didn’t make sense.

The stereo wasn’t plugged in.

xXx

By the time it started to rain, Bumblebee’s joints were getting cramped from the fixed position he’d been in for hours. He found himself in a parking lot beneath the highway that cut through the city, just one of many. Allison hadn’t told him specifically where she worked, but Bumblebee knew what to do with details. It only took a little creative digging into public records to figure out specifically which repair shop she worked at, because there were only so many in the city where someone named Allison would be found. 

Bumblebee kept his distance, several blocks away, but on the path he knew Allison took, because he’d watched her walk along the road hours prior. Tucked away in the row of cars, she wouldn’t have been able to see him unless she really looked. He had to be careful about his movements, because Allison had been incredibly observant about the coloring of his armor panels considering her fixation with his name. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she recognized him immediately, and he didn’t want to inadvertently cause any problems. 

So he kept watch, monitoring local emergency feeds and radio signals for any odd activity. Either the Decepticons weren’t around, or they’d gotten incredibly clever at hiding their traces. That made it even more critical that he be in this very spot, especially considering he was dismayed to learn when Allison walked to work this morning that the energon signature on her had returned. So Ratchet and Wheeljack had been wrong, and Allison probably had no idea she was practically a beacon to any Cybertronian who happened to come by, friendly or otherwise. That alone made his inner circuits churn with anxiety, because he didn’t like being able to sense her in that way without her knowing. 

It was almost starting to get boring as Bumblebee rested back on his wheels, so while the rain began to pick up he observed the humans around him. He noted that not a lot of them used the thing they called umbrellas, which was odd, considering how often it rained in this region. It was a busy area where humans shopped for various luxuries and other goods, sometimes popping in and out of places they called cafes. Part of him wondered what it was like to consume such a broadly diverse range of different kinds of substances, but he certainly didn’t envy how their small organic bodies had to process them. There were mostly adults that walked these streets, and many of them spent a lot of time looking at their small cellular phone devices barely paying attention to where they were going. It was their more immediate form of communication, as they didn’t have the ability to speak to one another through internal com channels. 

By the time the streets cleared out, Bumblebee was starting to wonder if Allison had slipped past him somehow in the later hours of the evening. Humans were creatures of habit, so that seemed unlikely. Surely she would come back the same way she traveled before. He was so focused on sorting through any and all resounding radio chatter looking for something he missed, so he almost didn’t notice the sudden click in his own internal com as someone entered his periphery. 

“I’m bored. What are we waiting for?”

“Sideswipe?!”

“What, you think I’m not going to follow you when you leave the base with one of the ugliest mugs I’ve ever seen? Especially when you’ve been hiding something from me?” Unfortunately Bumblebee noticed far too late the bright red luxury sports car that had made itself comfortable several rows behind him. He was never that careless, so how Sideswipe slipped past him was an infuriating mystery.

“From us.” The additional voice that entered the conversation confirmed exactly what Bumblebee assumed would happen, and that would be Sideswipe roping his brother into this. The near-identical yellow car was several spaces to Sideswipe’s left. 

“I should have known. Sunstreaker you should know better. This doesn’t concern you. Go. Home.” Two very rare, flashy sports cars were going to draw far more attention than Bumblebee liked… though admittedly he was starting to have doubts. If things did in fact go south, having two of the strongest Autobot fighters with him was not a bad idea. He’d just been hoping things didn’t get messy. The twins weren’t exactly known for being delicate about their surroundings when it came to battle, and this was not a Cybertronian city. 

“I don’t know, I think this concerns us a lot actually. What are you out here waiting for in the middle of this… city?” Sunstreaker did little to hide his disdain. “And in the rain, no less.”

“I’m looking for Decepticons.” It was a half-truth, but it was enough.

“That’s it?” Sideswipe confirmed, though the lilt of his tone made it obvious he didn’t believe him. 

“That’s it.” Bumblebee lied.

“Well why didn’t you say so? What’s the point of being secretive about that? I love killing ‘Cons.” Sideswipe’s reply could have indicated he bought it, but the scout knew that was a vain hope.

Bumblebee was trying to multi-task, simultaneously keeping his sensors open while entertaining this conversation and trying to think of how to respond. There was no point in hiding anything now. The twins weren’t going anywhere, because they certainly didn’t take any of Bumblebee’s attempts at authority seriously. 

“Fine. Just don’t break anything.” Bumblebee could still keep an optic on Allison easy enough without telling them anything. They could be there as back-up should any Decepticons actually arrive. It was a win-win. He could figure out what to do if Allison got caught in the middle of it once it came to that. If it came to that. “And don’t draw…” Something flared at the edge of Bumblebee’s more heightened sensor range, and he immediately lost his train of thought. He poked at it, throwing out another pulse to try and catch it again. “—Wait…” There it was again, this time strong, and unmistakable. It was a full blown Decepticon presence, active. And it was close. “ON ME.”

Without waiting, Bumblebee peeled out of the parking lot and into the street towards the source. There was a briefly startled flutter of confusion on their com link before it went dark, meaning both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had switched their focus to the more serious hunt at hand. They would be full of plenty of witty, poorly-timed jokes later, but now they knew what was at stake for all their complaining and bluster. Bumblebee knew the signal had come from the direction Allison traveled in, meaning they could be staring down the barrel of a full-blown announcement of their presence on this planet. He just hoped they weren’t too late. 

xXx

The face. 

Allison wasn’t sure how she knew, but something told her she was in danger, and it was time to go. She tried to relax her shoulders as much as possible, evening out her breathing as she walked back into the office at a reasonable pace. She didn’t want to give away the fact that she was fearful. Maybe if she didn’t provoke it, it wouldn’t move. 

There was no way for her to be fully certain, but somehow she knew it was Decepticon. No wonder it had felt like something was watching her all evening. She wondered how the hell they had found her, and why, unless…

Slowly, and with as little urgency as possible Allison gathered her things, realizing that she hadn’t done her usual checks around the workshop. Why she was concerned about work at a time like this was beyond her comprehension. Her gut instinct and animal brain were telling her to run, because she was being hunted. Where was she going to go? Was she even safe at home? Was there something even worse waiting for her outside? She still had to get home, and it was late so there wouldn’t be any foot traffic at this hour. She was alone. 

One thing at a time, and first, she needed to get out of the building. Trying to appear as casual as possible was difficult, considering her heart was about to pound its way out of her ears.

The problem was, she had to pass by the offending stereo again in order to get out of the building. The back door was still jammed and she didn’t want to risk it. Things probably couldn’t have gotten worse as she stood there for a tick considering the best course of action. That was until the power went out and she was plunged into darkness.

So Allison stood there in the pitch black, frozen in fear, and the thought faintly occurred to her that this would have been a terrible time for Wheeljack to go on a supply run. The absurdity of his possible timing almost made her laugh, if not for the fact that she was now in the dark and possibly in more danger now than she was before. That’s what finally convinced her to make a break for the exit, darting out of the back office room glancing to her right just long enough for a spike of fear to rip through her whole body. The stereo was gone. 

There was no time to think about that now, because the front door suddenly seemed twice as far away as it normally did. Allison was so focused on getting outside, that she didn’t see the hazard before it was too late.  She made it two steps out of the office before something large and massive struck her from the right, effectively throwing her bodily back into the room she’d come from. 

Allison was so stunned from the impact, that for a split-second she couldn’t move. It felt like she’d been hit by a wrecking ball; a solid wall of something that she bounced off of, causing her to slide gracelessly all the way back into the office she’d come from. For a second she was afraid she’d hit her head again, but somehow that had been avoided. The more pressing fear was the sudden comprehension of every instinct in her body telling her that she was now trapped. The move had been intentional; sound strategy to corral your prey into a corner where they can’t escape. That meant, someone knew the back door was a problem. Managing to lift her body enough to look through the doorway she’d just sailed through confirmed as much, and her whole body froze in terror. 

The first thing she saw was the sudden addition of light: harsh, red and angry hovering high above her in the dark like a panel. It floated towards the direction of the doorway from the blackness of the outer room, followed by the thudding mechanized steps of something that sounded heavy and threatening. The bright, glaring—visor?—had Allison transfixed like a deer caught in headlights, and she almost wondered for a panicked second if she was hallucinating some sort of uncanny vision. Whatever was coming towards her was simultaneously smaller than she would have expected, but still large enough to take up the entire span of the wide doorway separating her from it. 

It was almost comical how the massive shape maneuvered through the doorway, and this was the moment Allison realized it was much taller than she previously realized. Even hunched over, the oppressive robotic figure hit the ceiling while never taking its wide gaze off of her. Allison tried to rapidly file through her options, the worst of which was figuring a way to get around it which seemed nearly impossible. The alternative was stalling it long enough to try to force the back door open and she had no idea how she would do that.

Neither option seemed feasible as the—Decepticon—crept closer. She could barely make out the blue and silver coloring that had been the stereo, the two oddly shaped antennae rising off either shoulder. The angular face was now affixed to this body, and her prior assessment of it being kind of cool now felt incredibly stupid and irresponsible. 

Allison knew she needed to move, her eyes darting around for anything she could use as a weapon and coming up short, but at this point she needed to do something or else she was dead. She finally managed to scramble to her feet, stumbling back into the wall, only to find that the Decepticon was staring at her with an eerie, unsettling grin.

“This home of yours gets any smaller and I’ll end up with a permanent cramp in my neck.” The voice was higher pitched, almost mocking. “How ‘bout we open the place up by knocking down a few walls?” The threat was unmistakable as Allison finally decided to bolt. At precisely the same moment something happened to his arm. A clean succession of moving servos and rotating plates preceded the massive crash that enveloped the space she’d just occupied seconds before. She barely had time to throw a panicked glance over her shoulder to see what looked like a massive pilon stuck in the wall, connected to the Decepticon’s arm like some sort of freak appendage. 

Undeterred, she felt the moving air behind her as her assailant launched after her, the crunch of broken wall exploding as he yanked his arm free. In a fast panic Allison pulled a section of wire shelving over as she passed, the action pulling her around in time to see that she was nearly face-to-face with this new monstrosity just as a wide assortment of electronic parts and pieces crashed on top of him. Invulnerable, a massive shoulder took the brunt of the shelf’s impact, carelessly knocking it sideways while swinging his other arm around from below in an arcing motion. Allison didn’t have time to get out of the way before it was too late—he moved so fast—as this other hand clamped around her throat like a vice, carrying her several massive steps backward before hoisting her high into the air. 

As if to punctuate the sudden silence, filled only with the sounds of her desperate gagging as she tried to pry his hand off her, his other long arm jolted down. The massive crunch from the giant crushing mechanism that it extended into was palpable in the air, sending a vibration running down her spine through the hand currently squeezing the breath out of her.

“To be honest, I’ve just been itching to do this. I’ve been waiting for a while now, and I gotta' say, I’m not impressed. The big boss sent me to sniff out the weird signal here, and imagine my surprise to find out it’s one lousy organic.” He squeezed, as if to emphasize his displeasure, and Allison thought her neck was about to break as the flesh of her throat constricted, completely cutting off air. “Now that we’re acquainted, I’m thinkin’ we just pack you nice and tight into an envelope and mail you, express delivery. How does that sound?” Allison’s eyes bulged as a thousand thoughts flooded through her mind in an instant. Did they detect the energon? Was it back? How many of them knew about it? Were they here? Was this how she died? She punched uselessly at his arm, simultaneously trying not to hang from his grip fearing her spine would snap like a twig. He seemed completely unfazed by the myriad of weak smacks against his oversized forearm. After agonizing seconds, his head tilted sideways to study her while the searing visor covering his eyes burned into her teary vision.

“What the Pit is so special about you anyway?” He muttered, the previously high-pitched voice dropping low by several octaves and it made Allison’s insides squirm. “It’s not often I get sent to chase up vermin.” She tried to scream but the action was in vain, kicking hard once she felt the solid form of his face suddenly press against her stomach. Reflexively she tried to jerk away as she was pulled in, her voice dying in her throat as she tried to make her disgust known. The action felt more like a predator appraising their catch, menacing and deadly, and she tried to push at him to get the sickeningly intimate feeling of his face against her to stop. She had no leverage while being held in the air, and could only hang like a flailing doll while the heat of whatever air he was venting burned through her clothing. He was smelling her. “You. Smell. Like. Energon.”   His countenance was already menacing, but something about him now seemed positively aroused, the scent of energon clearly driving a lust for violence that had been previously dampened. Allison knew at that moment she was dead. Static was already starting to creep into her vision from the corners, her face growing sickly hot as she fought for air. With a manic, gleeful giggle, she was suddenly thrown, hard, her back hitting the solid surface of a table against the far wall. Immediately she was wracked with coughing, trying desperately to suck in air while blind to what was happening around her. Allison was weak; too weak to fight him off when he was suddenly on top of her, massive body blocking the view of the ceiling as he crowded her against the table. She lashed out, trying desperately to kick him, in the face, chest, anywhere she could reach but she was simply too small. “I’m nobody!” She cried hoarsely, yelping when he fisted the front of her clothing, cackling. “No, you’re less than nobody. But you got something in you that the boss man wants I guess, and for now that makes you somebody—GAAH.” While her Decepticon attacker was busy monologuing, Allison’s eyes quickly caught sight of something and she took a risk that could very well be her last. Laying there on the table, plugged in and searing of heat, was the damn soldering iron. 

Grabbing it with a free hand just as she was about to get yanked forward, she plunged it into the first thing she laid eyes on. It was the relatively unprotected space of the robot’s neck where there was no plating, but only bundles of cable and other flexible anatomy. The reaction was immediate. The howl of pain was intense, as he let go and reeled backwards, steps crunching hard on the ground as he pawed in blind confusion at the offending intrusion in his neck. His head kept crashing into the ceiling, leaving torn gashes in the fiberglass tiles. Allison could smell burnt wiring and smoke, and she only had a split second to use to her advantage as she rolled awkwardly off the table in a heap and bolted. The relatively soft clatter of the soldering iron being thrown against the room followed seconds later as she darted through a doorway and around another corner. Her only choice was the busted back exit. 

“ALRIGHT, NOW I’M PISSED!”

Where she was going to go exactly, Allison had no idea. She had no clue what was waiting for her outside. The Decepticon kept mentioning a big boss, so there was no guarantee said big boss was not waiting for her to be driven out. People could get hurt, and she didn’t want that on her conscience.

She could hear the cacophony of crashing behind her, followed by the rhythmic stomping of massive footsteps following her escape. She lost track of where he was, as the sounds of destruction seemingly came from everywhere at once, until suddenly the wall behind her shattered as something massive plunged through. It was his arm, or whatever his arm had become. The broken plaster and brick projectiles sailed over Allison’s head as she stumbled forward, just barely catching herself to continue running. It was getting hard to listen for danger with the roar of blood in her ears, and she barely heard the sound of her panicked, gasping breaths as her body hit the solid Exit door that would be her only way out.

Panic. The door didn’t budge, as she pounded on the release bar multiple times in vain. Wailing in defeat, she tried pressing her shoulder against it but she was too exhausted and she couldn’t get leverage on the floor. The sounds of chaos were growing louder behind her and she stepped back, kicking as hard as she could. That same second she fretfully glanced sideways and caught sight of the eerie, Cheshire glow of a red visor hovering in the darkness as it came around the corner with a cackle. The release bar made a mockingly pleasant click as the door finally crashed open. By this point the sing-song taunting felt close enough to brush against the back of her neck. A wall of cold air and rain hit her like a microburst, and she leapt out into the alleyway before forcing the door closed. She knew it was pointless to hope that it would slow him down, so she wasted no time in deciding to run to her left towards the street.  

It was only two steps against the wet pavement before the entire side wall of her building exploded in front of her. What followed was a massive shape that swooped directly into her path to cut off her escape. Without the confines of the building now, she could plainly see how big he was, puffed out like an angry, blue and silver beast about to pounce. He was smaller than even Bumblebee by a fair margin, but still big enough. 

The red visor-like eye was searing, the feral rage on his face unmistakable as remnants of smoke still curled around his head from his neck. In the relative light of the back alleys she could see him for what he was, and it was a nightmare. His massive hands were raised, poised to reach out and snatch her as soon as she tried to move. Rain evaporated into steam as it pelted his body, surrounding him in something like a fog.

“Did nobody teach you monkeys never to run from predators?” The sentence almost came out like a hiss; feral and angry. It was at this moment Allison’s completely illogical animal brain took over and she turned to run. It didn’t matter where, because she was about to die.

Seconds later her head was snapped backwards and she was yanked off her feet as something wrapped around her face: a massive hand, and her knees hit the wet pavement with an excruciatingly painful crack that made her cry out hoarsely. The world spun as she was forced further down onto the ground, the grip on her head squeezing as her cheek bit into the gratingly cold surface of the soaked concrete. Allison went limp as she felt the Decepticon’s weight over her, pinning her down.

“It just makes me wanna chase ya…” the voice was low and almost distant, like he was getting completely lost in a violent instinct that Allison would never understand. She only managed a gasp, waiting with bated breath for some sort of killing blow that never came. What was probably seconds felt like an eternity as Allison lay there gasping for air, hearing only the distant sound of something approaching fast from behind. Maybe the big boss had come after all. 

There was a rushed clattering of motion followed by a confusing burst of movement above her body as the weight of the Decepticon was suddenly gone.

xXx