#without being followed by the recipient. However

[elronds-meleth-nin]

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

I heard a song and one of the lines got stuck in my head, so here's a fic. (If you're curious, it was "Figure You Out" by VOILÀ.) No idea why, but Thranduil just felt perfect for this.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Thranduil x Reader

[A/N: This is mostly just fluff, but there's some innuendo, so... 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, Elf x Human romance, mutual pining, idiots in love, Thranduil being dramatic, fake betrothal speedrun, Thranduil being soft for one (1) person only, protective Thranduil, Human!Reader has been adopted by elf who had no idea what he was getting into and Thranduil thinks he's an idiot, mild innuendo.

~*~

My mind wandered during my guard shift. Given that nothing ever penetrated this deep into the realm without the king's consent, the risk of allowing my focus to roam among my busy thoughts was minimal. The night air was brisk as I sat on one corner of the king's balcony with my bow laid across my lap.

Normally, the night air was soothing, but at that moment, all I could think about was how different everything would be soon. There would be no more extravagant views of the stars framed by elaborately gilded windows, no more training with my bow, no more front row seats to royal audiences, and - the worst of all - no more late night conversations when King Thranduil grew weary of his work.

I'd taken those things for granted. Oh, I hadn't squandered my time once I'd become one of his guards, by any means, but now that I might be forced to give up that position sooner than I'd anticipated, a list of regrets seemed to be cycling endlessly in my mind's eye. One that caused me the most pain was that I would very soon no longer be the recipient of his majesty's secret smirks when something we'd discussed privately occurred in his court.

The sound of a quill scratching away on parchment within the king's study ceased abruptly, but not even the anticipation of a quiet, intimate talk with him could lift my spirits. Not after the news I'd had that morning.

The swish of a cloak being removed was followed by unhurried footsteps toward the balcony, and then he was there beside me. The King of the Woodland Realm stood less than a few feet from me in all his finery, save the little circlet that usually rested upon his brow. He tended not to wear it when he retired to his chambers for the evening, choosing instead to lay it atop a book of poetry which resided permanently on his desk.

"On a lovely, cloudless night such as this, what cause would a newly-engaged lady have to look so forlorn?" The smooth, regal voice of my liege met my ears, and under any other circumstances, I might have scrambled to my feet to bow before him, as was his due. All I could muster, however, was a quiet, sincere apology over my shoulder as I remained seated on the balcony. I could feel his keen, pale blue eyes on me as I set my bow aside and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, dear. Is he that repulsive?"

"Not physically, but...all he seems to see is himself. I am perfectly aware that the betrothal wasn't either of our choices, but he could at least pretend that he's interested when our parents are nowhere to be seen." I was aware that I sounded ungrateful, but just because I was a mortal woman in a realm of Elves didn't mean that I had to like it when I was constantly looked down upon by others.

One of the few people who never gave me the impression that he thought less of me took a seat beside me in robes much too elegant for anything less than a perfectly padded chair to touch.

"Have you spoken with your guardian - apologies, your father - about your fears?" Instead of sounding judgmental, Thranduil's voice held only softness - a rarity, to be sure, but such a tone was more common when he conversed with me than with anyone else. I nodded my head as I recalled the cold aloofness in my adoptive father's voice as he'd dismissed both me and my protests.

"He seemed more concerned with maintaining the status associated with his name than with some silly little mortal's concerns." I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, I really did, but the sharp edge that crept in made me cringe a bit. "After all, who am I to complain when he took me in? My life could have been over before it had even truly begun. He could just as easily have left me to die in the ruins of our burning village and adopted an Elfling instead. I...owe him for all that he has done."

One of Thranduil's hands rested lightly on my shoulder, coaxing me to face him. My eyes met his, and his free hand laid over my wrist. The warm weight of his palm covering my pulse made my heart flutter in my chest.

"Is that what he told you?" When I stammered about it being nothing more than the truth, he shook his head while stormclouds gathered in his expression. "What foul words of comfort from one who claims to care for you."

To that, I had no response. Naturally, several statements sprung to the tip of my tongue - defenses for my father's actions - but I swallowed them all down when my king's gaze warned me that he would tolerate no such excuses.

"Remind me, mellon-nín, how long have you served in my guard?"

"Twelve years and a few months, sire."

"And in all of our many conversations, have I ever given you any reason to doubt that I value you as highly as any other in my kingdom? After that first fortnight, when you were terrified of making a mistake, have you ever felt out of place because of your mortality?"

The memory of that fateful night drew a smile to my lips.

"No, mellon-nín. That rather thorough tongue-lashing you meted out made your stance quite clear to all in the palace," I murmured allowing myself the small liberty of turning my hand beneath his and threading our fingers together.

The guards he'd berated for their rudeness and bigotry had practically fled the throne room when he was finished with them. After that night, he'd ordered that whenever I was on duty, I would be assigned to his personal detail.

"Then, what cause have you to believe that I would tolerate anyone treating you so poorly anywhere else in my domain?"

"This is different–"

"How? Enlighten me," the king ordered giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Father has the right to demand that I repay him for the time he has spent on me," I hedged, but Thranduil shook his head.

"Just because he raised you, that does not mean that he was unaware of what he was choosing. He may not have known the full extent of the demands made of a parent, but that was not the fault of the innocent babe he rescued." He sounded so calm, so casual about his assertions that I could do no more than blink as he spoke. "I do not expect Legolas to sacrifice his happiness to satisfy some imagined debt incurred at his birth, nor should your guardian make such ludicrous demands of you."

We sat quietly for a moment, side-by-side and hand-in-hand beneath the moonlight before words began flowing from my mouth almost without my consent.

"He's an ass, you know, the man to whom I have been promised. Nothing brings him greater pleasure than a mirror, and nothing strains him more than remembering a preference held by someone other than himself," I murmured feeling as though this confession of my unkind thoughts about the Ellon would give me some measure of comfort beyond another's commiseration. "Six different times he has insisted that he knows my favorite flower, and six times have I received something completely different. He claims that I keep changing my answer, but, truly, I have given the same response every time."

"He chooses not to listen," Thranduil muttered almost to himself.

"Quite correct, aran-nín. He is dismissive...practically ignores me when we are in the same room..."

"Had he been listening, he undoubtedly would have heard your scathingly pointed sighs, not unlike those which you direct toward any who insult your king in the throne room," he teased, and a huff of laughter bubbled out of me. "I shall have you know that I enjoy those little sighs. They convey a great deal about the receiver's lack of intelligence and manners, whilst simultaneously broadcasting that you would like nothing more than to drag them from the gates by the scruff of their neck. Quite effective, do you not agree?"

"Oh, yes, mellon. As I recall, you've allowed me to do just that on several occasions," I said glancing over at him. The answering sparkle in his eyes coupled with the wicked little smirk adorning his lips made my heart thud faster in my chest.

"And I reveled in every second of their humiliation at your beautiful hands," Thranduil practically purred in satisfaction at the memories, but I sobered rather quickly as I recalled the reason I was so down in the first place. He must've seen my smile slip. "Forgive me, I was certain that you enjoyed dragging witless rats from my sight...?"

"I do...rather, I did." The correction was small, but he pounced upon it immediately. The hand that had been on my shoulder grasped my chin and forced me to look back up at him. He didn't need to say a word. The question floated between us unasked, yet requiring an answer. "My betrothed made it clear that he believed a guard was no proper wife. He has demanded that I resign my position here."

More seriously than he had all night, Thranduil gazed into my eyes.

"Is that what you want? Do you wish to give up the station you fought so hard to attain for a man who cannot remember even the simplest of things about you?" I shook my head as hot, desperate tears filled my eyes. "Then tell me, what do you want? What desires fill your mind when you allow yourself to dream under cover of darkness?"

I most certainly could not give him the whole truth. I couldn't tell him that over the course of our acquaintance and friendship I had fallen in love with him. Nothing could ever come of my pathetic heartache. I was only a guard. A peasant. Peasants might fall in love with royalty, but they did not end up with them. That was not the way of the world.

"Love," I breathed instead. "I want to be loved for myself, not my father's position. I wish to be cared for and to care for another. I wish to remain a guard, a warrior for the Woodland Realm, and to be accepted as I am, not swept aside. Obviously, I am not without fault, but while I attempt to grow wiser and gain experience, I do not wish to be impeded or judged by someone who could never remember even the most basic facts about me. I...What I want is impossible."

A small, gentle smile crossed the king's lips, and an intense, burning desire to kiss him fought a war within me against my common sense. Thranduil could forgive much, but a lapse in judgment as severe as throwing myself at him? Never.

"Your presence here is proof that nothing is impossible. You are much easier to love than you have allowed yourself to believe." His deep, rumbling voice sounded at once comforting and sensual, which proved quite effective at helping me blink back my tears before they could even begin to fall. "When are you next due to meet with this unworthy cad?"

"Tomorrow. My father has invited both he and his parents to our home for the evening meal as it is my day without a shift." I was surprised at how steady my voice sounded after how vulnerable I'd just been. Strangely, though, I felt no shame in having allowed my friend to see my pain.

King Thranduil nodded his head pensively, brushing his thumb over my chin as he did so - why had he not yet released his grip? Not that I was going to complain, of course. Being this close to him, touching him, speaking with him in confidence...that was as close as I was ever going to get to him, and even that might soon be pulled from my grasp, so I savored every moment that I was afforded.

Neither of us had much more to say. Instead, the Elvenking slipped an arm around my waist and tugged me close enough to his side for me to lay my head on his shoulder. We sat in companionable silence until the time came for the guard change. Bidding me sweet dreams and a safe trip home, Thranduil dropped a soft kiss onto my hand and retreated back inside his rooms.

As usual, the guard who was to replace me gave me a raised eyebrow at my familiarity with someone so far above my station, and, as usual, I ignored him.

Sneaking to the stables on my way out, I plucked an apple from my coat pocket and headed to the gilded gates of the stall holding the king's mount. Slicing the fruit quickly in half with my dagger to delay my return home by a few extra seconds, I cooed gently to the large elk, stroking the soft fur on his muzzle as I offered him the treat.

"Who's a good boy? Hm? You are! Yes, you are," I praised as he gingerly bit into the first half of the bright red fruit, then the second. He was a gentle giant, in truth. Much of the kingdom supposed that he would be as prickly as his rider, but nothing could be further from reality. Firstly, the king was only short with those who deserved his ire. Secondly, the admittedly imposing elk upon which he rode hadn't a mean bone in his very large body. "Aww, you're never grumpy with me, are you, mellon-nín?"

He chuffed and snuffled, nuzzling gratefully into my caressing fingers as a 'thank you' for his treat. Even he would be a far superior companion for life than the idiot with whom I'd be forced to spend yet another pointless evening the next day...and perhaps the rest of my life.

"Don't worry, mellon, even if he makes me resign, I'll still find a way to sneak in and bring you extra apples." The pleased little snort he gave me drew a giggle from my lips, but I knew that soon the guard patrolling this section of the grounds would be here. I bid goodnight to my tall, fur-covered friend and set off on the path toward home with our secret intact.

Had I so much as bothered to glance back, I would've seen a familiar head of bright blond hair watching as I tugged the hood of my cloak over my head.

--

When I awoke the next day, it was still early morning. The lateness of my shift usually tired me out well enough that I slept for at least another hour or two, but after a few bleary blinks, I realized that I'd been awakened by voices.

Odd. My adoptive father did not usually entertain guests at this hour. Either something had happened, or today was destined to turn out rather strangely. As he hadn't bothered to come wake me, I gathered that there was no urgency in whatever had transpired. What was not in question, however, was the way my stomach growled as I tried to roll over and go back to sleep.

With a sigh of defeat, I climbed out of bed and dressed, even going so far as to tie my hair back in a quick braid since it looked as though it might rain. Thus, clothed and presentable, I cleaned my teeth and ventured from my bedroom in search of food.

The voices seemed to be coming from my destination, so it seemed as though I would get both sustenance and an answer to my curiosity all at the same time. A fortuitous turn for such a gray morning.

"...ere she is now." I was able to make out my father's voice as I intentionally stepped on the creaky board in the hallway. I wasn't as quiet as an Elf when I walked, but I still didn't like to appear as though I was eavesdropping or sneaking where I shouldn't be. When I stepped into the kitchen, I froze.

There in all his regal, perfectly-groomed glory was King Thranduil, sitting at our tiny wooden table.

What in the name of the Valar was the king doing in our kitchen?

"Aran-nín," I greeted him, bowing slightly less steadily than I might have if I'd been awake for more than a few minutes. A low, velvety chuckle floated around the space.

"Come now, meleth, you know there is no need for such formality," Thranduil crooned giving me a charming, mischievous smile as I straightened again, but that statement alone nearly shattered my poor tired mind.

He'd said 'meleth,' but...that meant 'love.' He'd never called me that before. And I still didn't know why he was in our kitchen.

Glancing between my king and my father, I tried silently to piece together what the hell was going on here. Thranduil must have seen my lack of progress in my eyes, because he continued as if this was all completely normal.

"Come, break your fast. Your guardian has been kind enough to make tea and lay out some provisions for us," he said standing and pulling out the chair directly beside him.

Almost without thinking, I did as he asked, and my heart thudded rapidly in my chest when he seated me as if we were at some lavish feast instead of around our small, wooden table. He acknowledged my hastily-murmured gratitude, then resumed his own seat with his usual flourish. The three of us ate quietly for a few moments, staunchly ignoring the fact that the king was in our tiny kitchen eating with us as casually as if he had always done so.

It was...pleasant. Strange, obviously, but much more enjoyable than my usual solitary morning meal.

"So, meleth-nín, would you like to tell him the good news, or should I?" Thranduil asked, and I looked up at him. Slightly more cognizant than before, I recognized the glint in his eyes that usually accompanied a desire for me to play along with whatever he said next. I could do that.

"I'm quite certain that it would be much more eloquent coming from you," I demurred, and I very pointedly avoided looking across the table at my father's reaction to whatever bit of theater my king had orchestrated. Less than a heartbeat later, I found my free hand firmly in Thranduil's grasp as he looked at my father.

"The betrothal you arranged for your ward is hereby declared invalid by order of the king," he said, and the stunned expression on my father's face was worth every moment of confusion I'd experienced that morning. He took a moment to gather himself before clearing his throat and looking between us in askance.

"If it is not too presumptuous, sire, may I ask why you have done this? Her betrothal to–"

"That engagement was no more than a farce. We meant to announce it earlier, but with how busy I've been attending to my royal duties, I fear I have been remiss." The king cut him off, and the indignation in my father's eyes gave me a sick sort of pleasure. "You see, your ward is not available for the suitor you preferred, because she has already accepted my own marriage proposal."

Oh. So, that was what he had in mind. A faux betrothal. Somehow, that was both intensely flattering and a knife to my chest.

The announcement worked to perfection, though. My father looked as though he'd been punched soundly in the face.

"You...?" He blinked and made a second attempt at speech. "Why would a king want her?"

Thranduil's head tilted in a manner I recognized as indicative of the imminent rise of his temper.

"Why does a king desire anything? Tell me, why should a king not desire a worthy queen for his realm?" He asked, and my father caught up rather rapidly with the realization that he'd said the wrong thing. Thranduil looked back over at me as he lifted my hand to his lips. "Why should an Ellon not marry the one whom he loves?"

Ow. Those were the exact words I'd longed to hear from him for so many years, but to hear them now knowing that they were all an act...

"And why should I not wish to marry the Elf with whom I have grown so close over my many years of guard duty?" How far he intended to carry this fiction, I didn't know, but I could play along for now. I could hide the pain.

"I...Congratulations," my father stammered hesitantly, but he was no longer relevant. Not now.

"Thank you," the king said without taking his eyes off of me. "Meleth, I believe it is time for you to live in the palace. It will be your home once we are married, and if you are prepared, I can take you back with me. My mount is outside."

"Of course, but I shall need a few moments to pack–"

"Nonsense. You needn't do such menial work. You are to be my queen. I have already arranged for your belongings to be brought to you this evening. For now, you need only bring yourself and a riding cloak," he insisted with a warm smile.

"Might it not be simpler, my king, if I were to save you the trouble of taking her with you? I could escort her to the palace myself this evening so that you needn't be burdened by sharing your mount," my father said, and the blush that sent my cheeks burning at the thought of the pair of us riding together atop his elk was automatic. No acting required.

I prayed that Thranduil was unaware of how drastically he affected me, even within my own imagination.

"Bringing my queen to the palace is my responsibility and privilege. And, if you shall forgive me for saying so aloud outside of the solitude of our marital chambers, meleth-nín, I view the opportunity to feel you in my arms with great anticipation," the king said turning my hand over gently and placing a slow, sensual kiss right over my racing pulse. My breath caught in my throat at the hunger in his eyes. His lips lingered a few beats longer than I expected, only pulling away when my father cleared his throat pointedly. "My apologies. In the presence of such beauty, I find that I am transported into the realm of fantasy."

Thranduil's words did not match his expression. He was an Ellon who found vast satisfaction in playing those around him like an orchestra. He wasn't sorry at all.

"As much as I adore seeing you like this, my darling king, I do hope you will be more discreet while holding court," I teased, but his smirk only grew.

"When my queen is so breathtaking? Never." If it wasn't for the disgustingly sexy wink he tossed me, I'd have thought he was laying his act on a bit thick. As it was, though, he seemed to be staying in character quite effortlessly. For my part, I was one shaky breath away from giggling like a brainless idiot, or bursting out in tears because of the simple fact that this was all an act.

Ducking my head in what I hoped was a passable semblance of bashfulness, I tried to steady my breathing.

"I...trust that you still plan to give up your position in the guard?" My eyes flicked up and met my father's. There was something in his expression - disbelief, confusion, suspicion - that I couldn't quite place.

His obvious lack of trust after all these years angered me.

With the sweetest smile that I could muster, I tilted my head curiously.

"Not at all. A queen must be willing to fight for - and alongside - her people if she expects them to fight for her in return. Loyalty must be earned; it is not a gift to which one is entitled." Thranduil gave my fingers a gentle, supportive squeeze. "Surely, after your many years as a warrior, you of all people understand how crucial it is to inspire loyalty in those whom you command?"

He couldn't protest. When Thranduil said nothing, giving him neither a change of subject nor an opportunity to dodge the question, my father stammered about his question being a foolish one and about the change in suitors being so sudden.

Almost as soon as we stepped outside, the king's elk snuffled happily. He walked over to us, but to my surprise, instead of vying for Thranduil's attention, he made a beeline for me. Without thought, I patted his muzzle and ran my fingers down his neck. Snuffling lower, as if he knew I usually kept his apples in my pockets, he looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mellon, I don't hav–" I was silenced by a large, gentle hand landing on my shoulder.

In my king's grasp was a bright, ripe, red apple. The same kind I usually smuggled out of the larder as a treat for my furry friend. He'd already sliced it in half - when had he even found the time?

"Thank you, but how did you...?"

"Nothing happens in my realm but I know of it," he whispered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over my scalp.

Choosing to temporarily ignore the implications of his statement, I accepted the apple and fed it to his elk. After a moment, Thranduil moved nearly soundlessly back toward my father.

"Ah, before I forget, this is for your ward's former suitor," he said pulling an envelope with the royal seal from his pocket. "Please convey to him that if the contents raise more questions than answers, he is most welcome to see the palace healers about his obviously failing memory."

With his cloak swishing behind him, Thranduil swept back over to me and helped me onto his mount's back. Once he was seated behind me with an arm wrapped firmly around my middle, it all sank in.

This might be an act for my father, but this was happening. I was really riding toward the palace with my king's chest pressing against my back. The guards who manned the gate would see us. Any who encountered us would bear witness to the king's act. How far did he mean to take this?

Surely, he wouldn't actually marry me just to get me away from one unsuitable Ellon? And when he did eventually end this ruse, what then? Would I be forced to go home with my tail tucked between my legs?

When we were around the halfway point in our journey - far enough from both my home and the palace that I was certain we wouldn't be observed - I asked if we could stop for a moment. Despite his confusion, Thranduil gave the command, and his elk trotted to a graceful stop. Without waiting for assistance, I slid off the saddle and landed rather hard on my feet.

Ignoring the new pain in my ankles and the ache that the loss of Thranduil's steadying grip left in my chest, I took a few steps and tried to slow my breathing. The sound of my traveling companion landing infinitely more gently than I had met my ears along with a concerned call of my name, but I just shook my head.

"Are you hurt, meleth?" He asked, and I swallowed heavily.

"No, but...my king–"

"You are perfectly allowed to call me by my name. After all, we are betrothed. It would not do for our subjects to see us behaving as if no love exists between us," he said as he patted his elk's neck, and a pang of hurt wound through my heart. Thranduil was saying all the right words, but it was an act. There were no longer any witnesses. There was no longer anyone to watch as my heart broke.

"Why are you doing this?" At the pain in my voice, confusion and concern washed over his features.

"Whatever do you mean?" The Elvenking asked stepping away from his elk's side. His cloak billowed around him, and it was all I could do not to drop to my knees at the sheer majesty of the figure he presented. All it did, though, was reinforce what I already knew: Thranduil was not for me.

"Please, do not misunderstand, I am grateful that you have saved me from such an unfortunate match. However, you needn't spare my feelings by pretending to love me. There is no need to waste your precious time playacting, mellon-nín."

"'Pretending'?" The word escaped him as a harsh, dangerous whisper. Oh dear. I'd seen the king's rage before, but never had his icy fury been turned upon me. Despite the outrage in his tone, his next words were at the same hushed volume as before. "'Playacting'? What do you take me for?"

I could see why Prince Legolas had insisted that raised voices were preferable to the fear that his father's cool, piercing anger inspired. I wasn't afraid, but I was acutely aware of the severity of his emotions. I wasn't intentionally trying to anger him, but I needed him to know how close he'd come to breaking me beyond repair. Before I could answer, he advanced another step and continued.

"And, pray tell, what am I, in your estimation? Cruel? Unforgiving? Demanding? Judgmental?" His eyes flashed with something akin to pain. "Perhaps your censure is not based upon personality, but upon appearance."

The glamour he kept constantly in place over his scar melted away.

"Is this the source of your misgivings? Am I too ugly for you to accept, even as a king?"

"You know that's not true," I snapped, with an edge of warning in my voice, recalling the first time I'd seen him without the glamour.

A few months after my appointment to the king's guard, I was given a jar of pain-dulling ointment by one of the healers to pass on to the king. I'd delivered it, of course, but when I'd been hesitant to leave him, going so far as to ask if he was injured, he'd locked the door and showed me what the great serpents of the north had done to him. Thranduil admitted later that he'd intended to frighten me that night, but all I'd done was ask if he needed help applying the medicine. Once he realized I thought no less of him for his injury, he'd let me.

Yet he had the gall to stand before me and accuse me of being shallow? Had he learned nothing about me over the years?

"Then answer the question," Thranduil bit out quietly. "What exactly do you take me for?"

"A king," I breathed looking up into his eyes. Confusion mingled with his anger. "Peasants may fall in love with royalty, but they are not offered the luxury of marrying them. Kings do not give lowly guards a second thought, even if they afford them the title of 'friend,' so I will ask you again, sire: Why are you doing this? Why are you acting as though hope abounds for my doomed heart where none has ever existed?"

His brow smoothed, his lips parted a fraction, and his glamour slipped silently back into place as he processed what I'd said. Oh, Valar, what I'd said! I'd confessed to loving the king!

Comprehension melted his anger away into nothingness. Instead, he moved within a single step of me, lifting one of his large, graceful hands to caress my cheek.

"You truly do not know?" I couldn't even bring myself to answer as I leaned into Thranduil's touch. This might be the last chance to do so after what I'd just admitted. He'd dismissed guards in the past for much less severe transgressions. "When we spoke last night, you told me that you desired to be loved - not by the whole of the Woodland Realm as I believe you deserve, but by one person. The Ellon your father chose for you certainly could not do that when remembering something as small as your favorite flower caused him such strain."

Low and gentle, his voice trickled over my ears as smoothly as honey. He...He didn't sound angry, anymore. Why wasn't he enraged that someone like me had dared to cross the more-than-generous boundary of friendship that he'd allowed me?

"My king–"

"Thandruil," he corrected, but there was no real bite to his words despite having to repeat himself again. He never repeated himself, yet this morning alone he'd done so twice. "You adore the blue wildflowers that grow along our western borders, but if you smell them for too long, they make you sneeze. During the summer, you set them on the sill in your room and keep the window open so that you might enjoy them without discomfort."

I blinked in surprise. I could vaguely remember a conversation years ago where I'd mentioned the flowers, but it was such a trivial thing that I was quite certain it would've been forgotten by morning. After all, what I did with flowers had no bearing on the fate of the kingdom.

"You prefer your tea sweet but not overly so. When you believe it might rain, you take the precaution of braiding your hair so that the humidity will not render it impossible to untangle when you return home."

The Elvenking began slowly, allowing each small fact that he'd observed about me to sink in along with the realization that he'd favored me with his attention frequently enough to accrue them.

"Your confidence with daggers is low, but with a bow, you are as bold and graceful as any skilled Elleth warrior. When I express my anger at some wretched fool in my court, you often struggle to suppress your laughter at how close they come to wetting themselves in the throne room - do not deny it. Your body gives you away each and every time."

Had he truly seen so much of me during my service to him?

"When your temper is tested, there is a small line that appears just here," he touched a spot between my brows, "that brings me great consternation. On the one hand, I wish to give you my sword so that you may more easily remove the head of whomever has dared incur your wrath, but on the other, I wish to soothe your frustrations with my words, my lips, my body, whatever you will allow–"

"Thranduil–" His name fell from me as no more than a whisper. The leaves on the trees surrounding the path rustled in the breeze, but the Elvenking could not be stopped.

"Your free time is often spent reading. Once a week before you return home, you sneak out to the stables and feed my elk an extra apple, because you find him sweet-tempered. When you laugh, your eyes sparkle brighter than any star ever could, and you steal the breath from my chest each time you look at me."

My vision blurred, and only when my king's thumbs brushed tears from my cheeks did I realize that I was crying. I'd loved him for so long that this felt as surreal as a dream.

"You said that you wish to be loved, meleth-nín. To answer your question, I am doing this because I can give you exactly what you desire. I could love you with my eyes closed, because I have done so with them open since the day you were assigned to my guard."

Thranduil leaned closer, freezing but a hair's breadth from my lips.

"If you do not feel the same, we can remain friends, but if there is the slightest chance that you could find happiness by my side, then marry me. Be my queen. I am yours." His whispered promise was filled with so much tenderness and hope that my restraint snapped, and I closed the distance between our mouths.

My fingers gripped his robes in an attempt to ground myself, but this heady feeling of being wanted - being loved - robbed me of all coherent thought. There was only the feeling of gentle hands drawing me close by my waist and the nape of my neck. Only soft lips kissing me with the skill of thousands of years' worth of experience. Only a king claiming his queen's heart.

There was only love.

~*~

mellon-nín = my friend

aran-nín = my king

meleth-nín = my love

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter three

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

warning . . . tbd )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . it's been a while but chapter three is here, i'm so sorry for how long it took )

Things between Mason and Y/N only seemed to get worse after he found out that she had given her number to Max; to say she was confused about the whole situation would be putting it lightly. Mason had made it clear that he didn’t feel a thing for her, he was furious that she had feelings for him, so why would he have an issue if something happened between her and Max. His attitude was not simply aimed at Y/N either, he was just pissed off at Max. When Max inevitably qualified on pole and Mason had to present him with the pole award, he did so with a face like thunder and an attitude so bad that even the members of staff that had to deal with him clearly saw that something was wrong. And if Y/N thought his mood was bad during qualifying, it was nothing compared to how he acted during the race. 

The group of four were sat watching the race in the Red Bull garage and whilst Y/N, Ben and Reece tried their best to immerse themselves in the excitement of the race; it was hard to do with Mason sat beside them in a brooding silence. His foul mood had extended beyond his interactions with Y/N too; even Ben and Reece, usually recipients of his lively banter, found themselves met with curt responses and icy glares. It was hard to shake off the tension, especially when Mason's frustration seemed palpable. Every attempt at conversation was met with monosyllabic responses or outright silence. 

As the laps passed and the tension escalated, Reece, who could tell just how uncomfortable Y/N was, decided to break the ice. Leaning over to her, he spoke in a hushed tone, "Hey, Y/N, you alright? Mason seems like he's in a mood today." 

She nodded, a small, forced smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I don't know what's gotten into him. He’s just so angry I don’t know what to do.” 

Reece sighed sympathetically. "He'll come around. Just give him some time." 

But as the race unfolded, tension in the garage reached its peak. When Max secured the victory, the cheers from everyone in the garage were met with a stark contrast from Mason. His jaw clenched, and he rolled his eyes in frustration, clearly annoyed that Max had won, a stark change from usual races where he cheered Red Bull along.  

Y/N exchanged puzzled glances with Ben and Reece, who shared her confusion at Mason's sudden change of allegiance. The atmosphere was palpably strained, and Y/N needed to get away from it all, so she found herself wandering away from the group as they headed towards the podium.  

However, the silence that followed her being away from her friends only spurred her frustration at Masons behavior, and soon she just couldn’t cope without knowing and understanding why he was acting the way he was. So, determined to find some answers, she made her way through the crowded paddock, navigating the sea of people in their vibrant team colors. Spotting Mason engrossed in conversation with Ben and Recce, Y/N hesitated for a moment before steeling herself to confront the issue head-on. 

As she approached, the murmur of their conversation grew more audible, and her heart sank when she overheard Mason's words. "I don't know what Y/N sees in that guy. He's a real prick, and I can't stand him," Mason grumbled to Ben and Recce, his frustration evident. 

Confusion and hurt etched across Y/N's face. She couldn't understand why Mason would harbor such strong feelings towards Max, especially when he had made it abundantly clear that he didn't reciprocate her feelings. Before she could muster the courage to address Mason, Max's voice unexpectedly cut through the tension. 

"Hey, you guys! Great race, huh?" Max approached the group, a wide grin on his face, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents of tension. Y/N glanced at Mason, who had abruptly shifted his expression into a forced smile. The contrast between his earlier resentment and his current attempt at friendliness was jarring.  

Max’s energy was contagious as he approached the group with a wide grin. 

"I'm throwing a little after-party to celebrate the win. You guys should come.” 

Caught off guard, Y/N's eyes flickered to Mason, who wore a scowl and crossed arms. "We can't, man. We got some stuff lined up," Mason interjected, his tone sharp, making it clear he had no interest in joining the celebration. 

Y/N hesitated, torn between Mason's obvious displeasure and Max's expectant gaze. The unspoken tension in the air was as thick as fog. Max, sensing the underlying dynamics, looked directly at Y/N, seeking confirmation. "You in, Y/N?" 

She bit her lip, glancing at Mason before meeting Max's gaze. "Yeah, sure, I'll be there," she replied tentatively, a slight quiver in her voice. The decision was made, but the uncertainty lingered. 

Mason's scowl deepened, and the air became even heavier. Y/N, sensing the disapproval, fidgeted uncomfortably. She didn't want to escalate the tension, but at the same time, she couldn't let Mason dictate her every move; not when he made it abundantly clear he didn’t even seem to like her as a friend anymore. 

As Max walked away to extend the invitation to others, Mason shot Y/N a stern look. "Really? You're going to his party?" 

Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "Mason, it's just a party. It's not a big deal." Reece and Ben exchanged looks, clearly feeling baffled by the scene playing out in front of them. 

Mason, however, wasn't convinced. "I don't get why you're so eager to hang out with him." 

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Max seems nice, I like him” 

Mason's expression remained hardened, but he didn't press the matter further. Instead choosing to just walk away from her, almost as if he couldn’t even bare to look at her 

In the dimly lit hotel bar, Mason sat slouched on a barstool, nursing a drink between sips. Ben and Reece sat either side of him, exchanging concerned glances as they observed the weight on Mason's shoulders. The earlier anger that had etched lines on his face had given way to a profound sadness, leaving Mason looking like a shadow of his usual self. 

Reece cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence that hung over the trio. "Mate, you've been quiet all night. Everything alright?" 

Mason took a deep breath, staring into the amber depths of his drink. "I don't know, man. It's just... everything's a mess." 

Ben chimed in, "Is this about Y/N and Max? Look, Mason, it might not be such a bad thing. If they get together, you won't have to worry about her having feelings for you anymore." 

Mason's eyes flickered with a hint of conflict, but he nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's just..." He trailed off, his shoulders slumping. 

Reece leaned in, genuine concern etched on his face. "Spill it, mate. Why are you so bothered that Y/N and Max are getting along? You've made it clear you don't see her that way." 

Mason sighed, his guard momentarily slipping. "It's not about that. I'm worried about Max. He's got a bit of a reputation with women, and I don't want Y/N getting hurt." 

Ben nodded in understanding, but Reece wasn't convinced. "Mate, I've known you for years. Something's not adding up. Are you sure that's all there is to it?" 

Mason hesitated, his eyes betraying a depth of emotion he hadn't intended to reveal. "I just... It's complicated, okay? I don't want to see her get hurt, and I don't want things to get even messier than they already are." 

Ben placed a reassuring hand on Mason's shoulder. "We get it, mate. Just look out for your friend. If you think Max is trouble, it's good that you're keeping an eye out." 

As Mason nodded in agreement, a pang of conflicting emotions welled up within him. In the quiet recesses of his thoughts, he wondered if, perhaps, he wasn't as indifferent to Y/N's feelings as he had convinced himself. 

Meanwhile, the after-party pulsed with vibrant energy as Max and Y/N found themselves in the heart of the celebration. The music thumped in harmony with the beats of their hearts, and the dimly lit venue became a backdrop to a night that seemed to be unfolding like a story. 

The pair, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and a few well-timed drinks, found themselves drawn to each other, their conversation charged with a playful flirtation that danced on the edges of something more. Max's charm and Y/N's quick wit created a dynamic that was both intriguing and infectious. 

As the night progressed, Y/N began to meet more and more of Max’s friends. The atmosphere was filled with laughter and animated chatter as Y/N navigated the introductions, each friend offering a unique glimpse into Max's life beyond the racetrack. The genuine warmth and camaraderie among Max's friends added a layer of connection to the night, making Y/N feel more at home in the bustling celebration. 

Later in the evening, Max and Y/N found a quieter corner of the venue, away from the pulsating beats and the lively crowd. The chemistry between them lingered in the air, and the flirtation that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally came to the forefront. 

Max, his gaze unwavering, leaned in with a playful grin. "You know, you're making it hard to focus on anything but you tonight." 

Y/N chuckled, her cheeks flushed from the mix of excitement and a few drinks. "Is that so? I could say the same about you, Max." 

Their banter continued, creating a bubble of intimacy that shielded them from the surrounding festivities. As the night wore on, Max's friends occasionally joined their conversation, seamlessly weaving Y/N into the fabric of their tight-knit group. 

Amidst the laughter and shared stories, Max's gaze turned more sincere. "You're different, Y/N. I really like being around you. Can I see you again?” 

Y/N, a mix of surprise and contemplation on her face, considered the question. "I'd like that, Max, but I don’t exactly live local, do I?” she said with a chuckle, still slightly taken aback by his forwardness. 

Max nodded, his eyes reflecting determination. "Well, I'm in the UK quite a bit for factory work. It could work out." 

After a moment's pause, Y/N agreed, a smile playing on her lips. "Alright then, yeah. Let me know when you're in town, and we'll take it from there." 

The vibrant energy of the after-party gradually faded as Y/N decided it was time to call it a night. The music softened, and the laughter in the venue became a distant echo as she made her way back to the hotel. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, the events of the night playing out in her head like a movie reel. 

As she entered her hotel room, she noticed a text message from Mason. "Are you back at the hotel?" it read. She sighed, typing a quick "Yes" in response. Truthfully, she couldn’t deal with anymore of Mason’s childish tantrums today, but she just couldn’t find it in herself to ignore him. A few minutes later, there was a knock at her door. Y/N hesitated before opening it, finding Mason standing there, a complicated mix of emotions written across his face. 

She let him in, the tension palpable in the air. Mason's eyes avoided hers as he walked past her and took a seat on her bed, he seemed unable to find the right words. Minutes passed, but Mason remained silent, the awkwardness growing with each passing second. The atmosphere in the room became thick with unspoken words, and Y/N could no longer contain her frustration. 

"What is your problem?" she burst out, her voice a mix of anger and hurt. "First, you completely ice me out, then you get pissed at me for giving my number to Max, and now you've come into my room in the middle of the night and you're just sitting there in silence. What the fuck do you want from me? I'm sorry for how I feel; I know it makes things awkward, but I never expected you to feel the same way or to want me. I just don't understand why it means you have to treat me like shit. You’re supposed to be my best friend." 

Mason, still avoiding eye contact, took a deep breath before finally speaking. "You are my best friend, the person in the world I'm closest to, and I was scared that because of how you feel, we couldn't be friends anymore." 

The raw honesty in his words caught Y/N off guard. She took a step back, studying his face, and saw a vulnerability she hadn't expected. The room fell silent again as they both grappled with the weight of their unspoken feelings. 

Y/N took a deep breath, the intensity of the moment hanging between them. "Mason, you can't just shut me out when things get complicated. We've been through too much for that." 

Mason nodded, the weight of his actions evident in the lines on his face. "I know, and I'm sorry. I should have talked to you instead of pushing you away." 

"Why did you get so upset about Max?" Y/N asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and frustration. 

Mason hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I guess I was worried. Max has a bit of a reputation, and I didn't want to see you get hurt." 

Y/N's expression softened, understanding the concern beneath Mason's actions. "You could have just told me that instead of treating me like I did something wrong." 

Mason nodded again, acknowledging her point. "I messed up, Y/N, and I'm sorry for that." 

The room fell into a heavy silence as Y/N processed Mason's apology. After a moment, she sighed, a mix of emotions playing across her face. "I appreciate the apology, Mason, but you need to trust me. I can handle my own feelings, and I value our friendship too much to let it be ruined by something like this." 

Mason nodded once more, a genuine sense of regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry for acting out. I don't want to lose you as a friend." 

Y/N felt a sense of closure in his words. "Let's just put this behind us. We can figure things out, but you can't shut me out like that again, okay?" 

As the weight of their conversation lifted, Y/N and Mason found themselves in an uncertain but hopeful truce. Y/N, moved by Mason's apology, decided to bridge the lingering gap between them. She reached out for a hug, an unspoken acknowledgment of forgiveness and a desire to move forward. 

Mason hesitated for a moment before reciprocating, his arms enveloping Y/N in a tentative embrace. The hug was warm, a silent reassurance that their friendship could weather the storms that had momentarily shaken its foundation. Y/N could feel the tension dissipating as they held each other, and for a moment, everything seemed to be okay. 

However, as they lingered in the embrace, Mason's mind was in turmoil. A wave of conflicting emotions swept over him, and an unsettling realization settled in the pit of his stomach. He started to question the nature of his feelings for Y/N, wondering if there was more to their connection than just friendship. 

Internally, Mason panicked. This wasn't a revelation he was prepared for, and the timing seemed utterly inconvenient. He tried his best to maintain the facade of casual friendship during the hug, desperately suppressing any hint of the internal storm raging within him. 

Y/N pulled away, smiling warmly. "Thank you for apologizing, Mason. I really appreciate it." 

Mason managed a tight-lipped smile in return, the internal turmoil hidden behind his eyes. "Yeah, of course. Friends, right?" 

"Friends," Y/N affirmed, her expression one of genuine warmth. 

Tag list-

@nightlockcornucopia @jaydensluv @girlytots19 @formula1mount @alwaysclassyeagle @aundercover @sofifiia @dessxoxsworld @lpab @lorarri @thelovehypothesis @torrie421 @ironmaiden1313 @celesteblack08 @glow-ish @urfavouritef1girly @alwaysclassyeagle @barnestatic @simxican @formula1mount @charli123456789 @mac-daddy-210 @lazybot @imguce @azxulaa @mehrmonga @sunny44 @skepvids @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @chimchimjiminie16 @tyna-19 @hoely-maria @stevesworld9 @f1lov3r @elliegrey2803 @heyyhelloohii @landosgirlxoxo @skepvids @aundercover @andydrysdalerogers @illicitverstappen @bbygrlllllll @kageyamama-hinatatata @imagandom @bibissparkles @sofifiia @dark-night-sky-99 @viennakarma

[chaos0pikachu]

Is BL Being Overly Influenced by Modern Western Romance Tropes?

Short answer: No. anyways, in the following essay I will explain that James Cameron is a weeb...

(okay fine~~ lets actually do this)

TLDR: discussing what media globalization is, how fandom can distill it down to only American/European cinema, showcasing how a lot of current BL is influenced by countries within it's own proximity and NOT "the west" but each other, also James Cameron is still a weeb

I had seen a post that basically proposited that BL was being influenced by modern western romance tropes and had used things like omegaverse and mafia settings as an example. I found this, in a word, fucking annoying (oh, two words I guess) because it's micro-xenophobic to me.

It positions western - and really what we mean by this is American/European countries, we're not talking about South American countries are we? - cinema as the central breadbasket of all cinema in and of itself. Inherently, all following cinema must be in some way, shape, or form, influenced by American/European standards, and as such America/European countries are directly responsible for cinema everywhere else, and these places - namely non-white countries - do not influence each other, nor have their own histories in regards to storytelling or cinema and do not, in turn, also influence American/European film making either.

Now like, do I think all of that~~ is intentionally malicious thinking on behalf of folks in fandom? No, so chill out.

I do, however, think a lot of it is birthed from simple ignorance and growing up in an environment where ~The West~ is propagated to be central, individual, and exceptional as opposed to the monolith of "Asia" - by which we mean China, Korea, Japan don't we? How often in discussions of Asian countries is Iran, India, or Saudi Arabia brought up even tho they are all Asian countries? - or the monolith that is South America - in which some folks might believe regions like the Caribbean and/or Central America belong to, but nope there both North America.

Anyway, what we're talking about here is the concept of "media globalization":

"The production, distribution, and consumption of media products on a global scale, facilitating the exchange and diffusion of ideas cross-culturally." (source)

"The media industry is, in many ways, perfect for globalization, or the spread of global trade without regard for traditional political borders. [...] the low marginal costs of media mean that reaching a wider market creates much larger profit margins for media companies. [...] Media is largely a cultural product, and the transfer of such a product is likely to have an influence on the recipient’s culture." (source)

Typically when I see fandom discussing what falls under MG the topic is usually focused on how "the west" is influencing Thai/Korean/Chinese/Japanese media.

Enter, Pit Babe.

Surely Pit Babe was influenced by Supernatural right? Omegaverse is huge in the west - love it, hate it, meh it - it originated in the west - specifically via Supernatural after all.

Nah.

Omegaverse has been popular in Japan and China for almost a decade, if not longer. The earliest omegaverse manga I can think of is Pendulum: Juujin Omegaverse by Hana Hasumi which was released in 2015, almost a decade ago.

(what if you added furries into omegaverse? WHAT IF?? - Japan)

There's countless popular omegaverse manga too, and the dynamics only moderately resemble the ones we're familiar with in the west. Juujin is part omegaverse and part furry/beastmen - the alphas are all beastmen the omegas are humans - while something like Ookami-kun Is Not Scary only slightly resembles omegaverse dynamics as a hybrid series - beastmen are really popular in Japan in part b/c of historical mythology (you see the combination of romantic Beastmen and Japanese culture & folklore in Mamoru Hosoda's work The Boy and the Beast and Wolf Children).

Megumi & Tsugumi (2018) is so popular they're an official English edition published by VIZ's imprint SuBlime and that's a straight up omegaverse story.

(look at the omega symbol on the cover loud and proud baby)

So if Pit Babe was influenced by anything, it certainly wasn't "the west" it was Japan, Korea and China. Because those countries have a thriving omegaverse sub-genre going and have had such for 10 plus years now. Supernatural is popular in Japan, yes, and that may be where Japan and Japanese fans originally found omegaverse as a fictional sub-genre.

HOWEVER

Japanese fans took the sub-genre, bent it, played with it, and evolved it into their own thing. As such, other countries in their proximity, like Thailand, China, and Korea who read BL and GL manga, found it and were like "hey, we wanna play too!"

(is that an omegaverse yuri novel I spy?? yes, yes it is)

When I watched the Red Peafowl trailer, it had more in common with Kinnporsche, History: Trapped, along with films and shows like: Jet Li's The Enforcer, and Fist of Legend, Donnie Yen's Flash Point, Raging Fire, and Kung Fu Jungle, Han Dong-wook's The Worst of Evil, Kim Jin-Min's My Name, Lee Chung-hyeon's The Ballerina, Baik's Believer & Believer 2, Yoshie Kaoruhara's KeixYaku, popular Don Lee films The Gangster, the Cop and the Devil and Unstoppable alongside BL manga like Honto Yajuu and Bi No Isu (probably one of the most well known yazuka manga to date).

Like, we're seeing a rise in mafia based BLs and people think that's because of "western influence" and not the absolute insane success of kinnporsche??? Especially in countries like China, Korea, Taiwan, Philippines and other Asian countries???

Mafia films and gang shows aren't even that popular here in America/Europe; don't get me wrong, they still get made and exist, but the last full length film was The Irishman which did not make it's budget back, and while Power is still on-going it's not a smash hit either. The heyday of Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, The Wire, Goodfellas, and Scarface are long gone. And if you've watched any those shows or films they have very little in common with Kei x Yaku, Kinnporsche, or Red Peafowl in tone, or style.

(who knew martin just wanted to make his al pacino/robert de niro fanfic come to life all these years?)

Another example, The Sign, which is clearly taking inspiration from Chinese costume dramas: Ashes of Love, Fairy and Devil, White Snake (and it's many adaptions), Guardian, & Ying Yang Master Dream of Eternity. Alongside Hong Kong and Korean cop and romance shows like Tale of the Nine-Tailed, Hotel Del Luna, Director Who Buys Me Dinner, First Love, Again, and previously mentioned cop dramas.

Like, I know y'all don't think Twins is influenced by, what, American sports classic Angels in the Outfield?? Gridiron Gang?? Rocky?? Nah that shit is inspired by the popularity of sports manga like Haikyuu!!, Slam Dunk, Prince of Tennis (which even has a Chinese drama adaption), and the like. And also probably History 2, & Not Me but I'm like 87% sure Twins is just Haikyuu fanfic.

So like, does this mean that there's NO history in which American and European cinema influenced these countries? What, no, obviously that's not true, American/European totally have had media influence on countries like Korea, Japan, etc.

Astro Boy by Osamu Tezuka considered "the father of manga" was inspired by Walt Disney's work on Bambi. Another more recent and prominent example is director Yeon Sang-ho and his film Train to Busan.

"And it was Snyder’s movie [Dawn of the Dead, 2004], not the 1978 original, that filmmaker Yeon Sang-ho recalled as his first encounter with the undead. “That was when I started my interest in zombies,” Yeon said, in an email interview through a translator from South Korea. Even today, he added, “it’s the most memorable and intense zombie movie I’ve ever seen.”" (source)

HOWEVER, the global influence doesn't stop there. It's not a one-way street. Yeon Sang-Ho was inspired by Zack Synder's Dawn of the Dead, a remake of George Romero's own work, but Yeon Sang-Ho's work has inspired countless Korean film makers to make their own zombie media; following Train to Busan there's been: Kingdom (2019 - current), All of Us Are Dead (2022), Zombie Detective (2020), Zombieverse (2023), Alive (2020), Rampant (2018).

And hey, wouldn't you know it now we're starting to see more zombie media coming out of places like Japan (Zom 100 the manga, movie, and anime) and High School of the Dead.

Do you know what Domundi's series Zombivor (2023, pilot trailer only) reminds me of? It's NOT The Walking Dead (which is the only relevant zombie media America has created in the last decade) it's Korea's All of Us Are Dead (2022). Comparing the trailers, the settings, the tone, it's clear where Zombivor is pulling inspiration from: Korean zombie cinema. NOT American zombie cinema.

In fact a lot of Domundi's shows - Cutie Pie, Middleman's Love, Naughty Babe, Bed Friend - are all very clearly inspired by Korean filmmaking, specifically that of romantic kdramas from the 2016 - 2020 era. Not always in story, but rather in technique.

This is media globalization. It's not simply ~The West~ influencing non-American/European countries but countries who are often more close in terms of: proximity, culture, and trade are going to have more influence on each other.

It is far more likely that Aoftion (Naughty Babe, Cutie Pie, Zombivor) was influenced by watching Train to Busan, All of Us Are Dead, and other Korean zombie shows and films than a single episode of Walking Dead.

My point isn't that this goes one way only, but rather it is very literally a global thing. This includes American and European film makers being influenced by non-American and European cinema.

Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg, Darren Aronofsky, Christopher Nolan, the Wachowski sisters, George Lucas and James Cameron have all been influenced by Japanese film making, especially the works of Akira Kurosawa, Satoshi Kon, and Mamoru Oshii.

John Wick's entire gun-fu sub-genre is heavily influenced by classic Hong Kong action films, specifically John Woo films. Legend of Korra, The Boondocks, Voltron, Young Justice, My Adventures with Superman are all obviously inspired by Japanese anime but animated by a Korean animation studio (Studio Mir). Beyond that, the rise in adult animated dramas like Castlevania, Critical Role Vox Machina, and Invincible to name a few are very clearly taking inspiration from anime in terms of style. The weebs that were watching Adult Swim's Inuyasha, Bleach, and Dragon Ball Z have grown up and are now working in Hollywood.

Okay so like, what's the point of all this? What's the issue? Since American/European cinema does influence et all cinema does any of this really matter?

YES.

I take contention with this line of thinking because it centers "the west" and our supposed individual importance way to much. Declaring definitively that "BL is being influenced by western tropes" and then including tropes, narratives, and film making styles that aren't inherently western and actually have major roots in the cinema of various Asian countries, removes the existence of individual history these countries have which are rich, varied, and nuanced. It removes the "global" part of globalization by declaring "the globe" is really just America and Europe.

It distills these countries down to static places that only exist when American/European audiences discover them.

BL doesn't exist in a vacuum you can trace the development of Korean BL to the development of Korean het dramas almost to a T. You can also trace their development to the queer history of each country and how Thailand interacts culturally with China, Japan, Korea, etc and vice versa. It also ignores the history of these countries influencing American cinema as well. Don't mistake "the globe" for only your sphere of experience.

Anyway James Cameron is a damn weeb y'all have a good night.

Check out other posts in the series:

Film Making? In My BL? - The Sign ep01 Edition | Aspect Ratio in Love for Love's Sake | Cinematography in My BL - Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign | How The Sign Uses CGI | Is BL Being Overly Influenced by Modern Western Romance Tropes?

[like these posts? drop me a couple pennies on ko-fi]

[luckydraww]

Y/N Intro - Fracture

Navi | Fracture M.List | intro i | intro ii | Prologue

══════♤══════♧══════♡══════♢══════

"Vice-Commandant sent me to give you this."

“Is this the report on the incident?”

"Yes sir."

══════♤══════♧══════♡══════♢══════

CONFIDENTIAL RIDER REPORT -Y/N

Recipient: WL Kim Hongjoong, Second Wing From: V-Cmdt █████████ Subject: Cdt. L/N Y/N - Incident Debrief & Squad Transfer

═══════════════════════════════════

Rider: Y/N L/N Current Assignment: Wing 2, Flame Section—Squad Pending Previous Assignment: Squad 1 - Declared dissolved, all members KIA with exception. Dragon: Dànshael - Female Blue Daggertail - Aethelynor Line Signet: Heartstring - Observation based. Secondary anomaly noted but unverified. Classification escalated to Tier III pending further analysis. See Addendum.

═══════════════════════════════════

Incident Summary: Cadet Y/N is the sole survivor of the destruction and following dissolution of Squad 1 (Wing 2, Flame Section), following a low-risk perimeter patrol along the Western perimeter on ██/██/████. Operation was routine and not expected to encounter resistance beyond baseline. No significant enemy movement was reported within a 15-mile radius.

Post-Incident analysis and secondary reconnaissance indicate corruption of an unidentified nature. Evidence and survivor report strongly suggests that one rider was affected first. Mental compromise or effects of an unknown influence spread rapidly through the squadron, likely or suspected to be psychological in nature, possibly facilitated through dragon bonds. Behavior degraded within moments; squad turned in on self. Chain of command rapidly collapsed, squad was decimated in approximately eight minutes.

Cadet Y/N remained unengaged in the violence, and was found two hours later by recovery team, physically intact but visibly shaken. Dànshael—here on referred to as Dàn—was notably found unconscious but unharmed next to her rider. The cause of the dragon's condition is currently unknown, as there were no external wounds or signs of magical interference detected, and there is no precedent for a dragon to enter an unconscious state without severe trauma.

Cadet reported a phenomenon referred to as "thread distortion", it is believed to be in reference to her signet's perception-based abilities. Cadet was transferred to isolated medical containment for 48 hours before being transferred to standard medical facility. Cadet is set to resume training under probationary terms after finality of transfer to Squad 3—Wing 2, Flame Section—following WL and SL approval. In the event that it is not approved, Cadet is likely to be transferred to Squad 1, Tail Section, Wing 2.

═══════════════════════════════════

Signet Analysis (Provisional)

Officially recorded in file as Heartstring, signet manifests as a passive perception-based ability that allows Cadet to visually "perceive" connections between people, dragons, information, and systems as glowing filaments that shift in color based on dynamics or relations.

During the incident with Squad 1 that led to it's breakdown, this ability appeared to allow the cadet to distinguish which individuals were compromised, tracking the corruption to point of origin, allowing her to predict the spread pattern. This likely enabled her to avoid engagement and isolate from further influence.

However, field observations and recorded reactions during the incident, as well as basic training exercises, suggest a secondary, active component—currently undocumented. Cadet has not exhibited conscious awareness of dual Signet functionality. It is suspected that what has been observed is an advanced use of her signet, with differential suggesting it could also be a layered or compound signet manifestation. This latent function appears to allow her to manipulate or apply pressure to weak points within a system—tactical, social, physical, or psychological. This function has previously been overlooked, relating to the cadet's ability to physically perceive how things connect and therefore break, this manifestation blends closely with her signet's primary function and sensory framework. Continued observation without disclosure to cadet is recommended at this time.

NOTE: While there is no conclusive evidentce, internal investigations have flagged the possibility that the unconscious use of a potential secondary signet function may have contributed to Squad 1's instability. Whether this was a catalyst or simply a reactive measure remains unknown.

═══════════════════════════════════

Behavioral and Psychological Report:

Post-recovery evaluations show acute survivor's guilt, heightened pattern-recognition, and relational aversion. Cadet demonstrates composure under stress but evades direct discussion regarding squad's final moments. Cadet's heightened awareness following trauma has led to a tendency to "read" others before engaging, indicating instinctive Signet usage.

Cadet's dragon, Dàn, exhibits heightened protectiveness, uncooperative behavior, and appears to actively discourage close proximity from unfamiliar dragons or riders following incident. Engage with caution.

═══════════════════════════════════

Recommendations:

Escalation of Signet Classification from Class II (Restricted) to Class III (Classified).

Maintain Tier III Classification of Incident at this time.

Restrict mission exposure to controlled or supervised scenarios until confirmation of stability.

Do not disclose dual-signet theory to Cadet at this time.

Psychological review to be administered quarterly under indirect protocols.

Approve integration into Squad 3 with standard probationary Surveillance. Recommended pairing in Squad 3 with low-conflict cadets.

Flag as potential asset - corruption detection and containment. Monitor for corruption resistance markers.

═══════════════════════════════════

Addendum A - Signet Irregularity Study

Resonance testing post-incident reveal fluctuating cognitive output during high-stress situations, particularly in emotionally charged or relationally unstable environments. Theoretical modeling suggests an inherited signet structure that has yet to stabilize, that may either be:

Dual-Signets manifesting in close synchorny (Currently indistinguishable as separate abilities), or

A rare, multi-functional signet with both perceptive and manipulative properties, likely passed down matrilineally.

It is noted that the Cadet's mother reportedly displayed a similar, though less intense, anomaly during her active service in the Rider Quadrant, though records were sealed following discharge and ultimately death. Lineage analysis suggests maternal inheritance is likely.

Observations confirm heightened activity or signet under emotional or interpersonal duress. Effects include targeted influence over psychological or structural vulnerabilities.

Operational implications are significant. Cadet's capabilities may prove advantageous in:

Identification, isolation, or neutralization of corrupted personal and double-agents.

Stealth and infiltrative scenarios requiring emotional or hierarchical manipulation and perception.

Targeted destabilization

Therapeutic restoration of units post-engagement

However, overuse of signet complex presents escalating risks: relational dissociation, neural fatigue, cognitive fragmentation, and involuntary use of manipulation function of signet. Without further study and control, Cadet may pose an internal security risk.

Cadet to remain under active observation. Recommended structured stress-evaluation trials, temporary restriction from command-critical missions, and close monitoring of signet manifestations.

══════♤══════♧══════♡══════♢══════

luckydraww © 2025 - all rights reserved to luckydraww. Do not steal, plagiarize, or translate any of my work without prior permission.

[nickeverdeen]

Embers of Love | Aloy x fiancée fem!reader

Pairings: Aloy x reader (romantic), Aloy x Erend (platonic), Aloy x the boys (platonic), Aloy x Zo (platonic), reader x Erend (platonic), reader x the boys (strangers), reader x Zo (platonic), Erend x the boys (strangers), Erend x Zo (platonic)

Type of fic: Fluff, Comedy

Warnings: Spoilers for Horizon Forbidden West

Summary: With you away Aloy certainly became… different and Erend is the punching bag and she had little time to catch up with Zo... after everything that happened. When you came back Aloy took you out on a suprise, but you have no idea what it is.

Ps: If you wouldn’t know when the Las Vegas in Horizon is, I put a map with it marked below the whole fic. Also I feel like Aloy would have some attatchment issues.

———————

It had been months since Aloy proposed to you, an unforgettable moment under the stars. You were both adventurers, but there was something grounding in that shared promise of a future together. However, the weeks that followed had been tough, especially after you left to help Alva with the Quen tribe. Aloy, used to long stints alone, now found herself longing for your presence in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

At first, she threw herself into her usual responsibilities. Whether it was helping with the Tenakth, investigating Old World ruins, or meeting with the various tribes, Aloy was always busy. But as the days stretched into weeks, she couldn’t shake the growing loneliness that gnawed at her, a familiar feeling she hadn’t felt in years. Being alone was something she used to excel at, something she needed to survive, but now… she missed you more than anything.

And poor Erend. He had become the unfortunate recipient of her frustration. The usually cheerful and brash Oseram warrior had noticed Aloy’s mood shift almost immediately. What started as casual grumbling about missing you turned into frequent complaints during every meal.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Aloy, I’ve never seen you like this. You’re, like, whiny now,” Erend teased during one of his drinking sessions, taking a swig from his mug.

Aloy shot him a glare. “I’m not whiny, Erend. I’m just… tired of being alone, okay?”

He chuckled. “Sure, whatever you say. But I swear, if you don’t stop talking about her, I’m gonna lose it. You’ve been complaining for weeks.”

The fourth week without you hit the hardest. Aloy found herself staring out over the horizon more often than not, counting down the days until you would finally return. She even caught herself snapping at her focus a couple of times for not giving her an accurate estimate of your travel time.

When you finally arrived back at the base, tired but relieved, you barely had a moment to catch your breath before you were enveloped in a tight hug from behind. Aloy had been working on something in the main room, but the second she heard your familiar footsteps echo through the corridor, she halted.

“Missed you,” she whispered against your ear, her grip around your waist firm but gentle.

You leaned into her embrace, smiling. “Missed you too, Aloy.”

Just as the two of you were about to lose yourselves in each other’s company, Erend strolled in, arms crossed, a smirk plastered on his face. “About damn time. Please, for the love of all the tribes, take her and go. I’ve had to listen to nothing but Aloy whining about you being gone for weeks,” he groaned dramatically.

You stifled a laugh, turning to look at Aloy, who stood with her hands on her hips, refusing to admit any of this had happened. She shot a glare at Erend, her cheeks reddening.

“Erend…” Aloy began, clearly trying to find some kind of comeback.

Erend waved a hand dismissively. “No need to explain, Aloy. I get it. Now, get outta here. You two need some time away, and I need some peace and quiet.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head at the dynamic between them, but you appreciated the sentiment behind his words.

In your shared room, the familiar warmth of the place made the weariness of your travels hit you all at once. Aloy, sensing your fatigue, pulled you into bed, immediately curling up next to you on her side, with you tucked safely against her chest. Her arms wrapped around you protectively, and you felt her chin rest gently on top of your head.

“Just rest,” she whispered, her voice soft, as if the sound might break the peaceful moment.

You didn’t need any convincing. The long weeks away and the exhaustion from the journey back finally caught up with you. With Aloy holding you so close, you drifted off to sleep almost instantly, your breathing steady and peaceful.

Aloy, however, couldn’t sleep. She lay still, watching your chest rise and fall as you slept in her arms. The memories of her childhood loneliness crept into her mind, but now, they felt distant. She wasn’t alone anymore. You were here. You were her fiancée. A small, almost shy smile crept onto her lips at the thought.

Once she was sure you were deeply asleep, she carefully slipped out of bed. Moving quietly, she stepped into the main room and found Zo, who was also awake and working on something at her station.

Zo looked up when Aloy entered, a knowing smile on her face. “Can’t sleep?” she asked.

Aloy shook her head. “I figured I’d help out a bit. Thought you might need a hand.”

Zo chuckled softly, resting her hand on her pregnant belly. “I won’t say no to that. But something tells me you’re not here just to help.”

Aloy leaned against the table, glancing at Zo. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, Zo. How’s everything going with you and the baby?”

Zo’s smile softened as she spoke about the newest member of the tribe. “It’s been a bit overwhelming, but in a good way. Things have been peaceful. How about you? Anything new since I last saw you?”

Aloy hesitated for a moment, but then a small smile crept onto her face. “Actually… Y/N and I are engaged now.”

Zo’s face lit up with joy. “Aloy! That’s wonderful news! I had no idea!” she exclaimed, placing a hand on Aloy’s arm in excitement.

“Yeah,” Aloy nodded, her expression softening. “It’s been… amazing. But I’ve missed her these past weeks. She came back today, and it feels like things are finally right again.”

Zo’s eyes sparkled with happiness. “I’m so glad for you both. Do you have plans for tomorrow? We could all go somewhere together.”

Aloy chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Actually, I’ve got a little surprise planned for her. It might take the whole day, but… I think it’ll be worth it.”

Zo raised an eyebrow, clearly curious. “A surprise? Well, whatever it is, I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“I hope so,” Aloy said with a smirk. “I’ve been planning it for a while now.”

When Aloy returned to your shared room, you were in the process of changing into something more comfortable. You had just slipped out of your shirt when you suddenly felt a familiar pair of hands on your bare hips. You let out a small gasp, startled, before realizing it was Aloy.

She pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, then your neck, her breath warm against your skin. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she whispered in a low, teasing voice.

You turned your head slightly to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “A surprise, huh? Your surprises are always… interesting.”

Aloy grinned but said nothing, stepping back to let you finish getting dressed. Once you were ready, you followed her outside without hesitation, curious about what she had planned.

Aloy mounted her Charger and then reached out for your hand. “It’s a long ride,” she said, helping you up onto the same Charger with her. You settled in front of her, leaning back against her chest as her arms wrapped around your waist.

The ride was peaceful. The rhythmic movements of the Charger lulled you into a sense of calm, and after about an hour and a half, you found yourself dozing off in Aloy’s arms.

When you finally arrived at your destination, Aloy gently shook you awake. “We’re here,” she said softly, helping you down from the Charger.

You blinked sleepily, taking in your surroundings. “Where are we?” you asked, glancing around.

“This,” Aloy said with a soft smile, “is old Las Vegas. I’ve wanted to bring you here for a while now.”

She led you into a large, wooden building, where you were greeted by Abadund and Stemmur. Aloy exchanged a few words with her friends, and soon you found yourself sitting on a balcony with Aloy by your side, watching as the Embers projected their dazzling light show across the sky.

You rested your head on Aloy’s shoulder, mesmerized by the shifting colors and shapes. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

Aloy smiled, watching you as the lights reflected off your engagement ring. “I’m glad you like it. I wanted to do something special for you.”

You squeezed her hand gently, your heart swelling with love. “You always do.”

As the Embers danced in the sky, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, content in each other’s presence. Aloy had taken you on countless adventures, but this one, sitting together under the Embers, felt like one of the most special yet.

[palestaticexchange]

PALE STATIC EXCHANGE... 2!

i said i'd do this again~

Welcome to the Pale Static Exchange... Two!

A few people lamented they weren't able to make sign up for last year, since it was such a short timeframe. I have ~listened~, I have ~learned~ from the first exchange, and ~*HOPEFULLY*~ I have streamlined the experience for you all!

FAQ

ASKS

SIGN UP!

CALENDER

LORE

KOFI

So without further adieu, this is how it's going to work:

Fill in this form to be included in the draw.

The form will be active until the 8th of June 2024, at which point I'll post a link to an incognito draw website (unless results in THIS POLL indicate otherwise!)

Me and @koreplus will message half of you each, letting you know WHO your recipient is as well as their likes/ dislikes

As long as you provide me with a valid Tumblr URL that allows me to tag you then everyone will be tagged on the post when it goes live :)

Access to the likes/ dislikes form will then be distributed..:

The likes/ dislikes form:

When the draw went live last year, a participant - rightly - pointed out that posting a link to a spreadsheet listing everyone's likes/ dislikes may not have been the best idea; since the dislikes section allows participants to list potential triggers.

Since the draw was already live, I rectified this by deleting the post and making the document accessible ONLY through being sent a link. This worked perfectly well last year, however (if somebody wanted to be a grade-A prick) they could have taken that link and posted it anywhere.

I've put a lot of thought into it and come to the conclusion that the only *perfect* solution would be to do the entire draw process myself, then individually message everyone who their recipient is, as well as their likes/ dislikes.

Now.

I'd really rather not have to do that, as it's going to make the entire process a lot more involved on my end; there were 56 participants last year (including myself) and I expect that number to be higher this time around since people have been following this blog in the off-season. I am very depressed and very lazy disabled and work so hard and have no monies.

But for the love of god, frotting, AND communism: I WILL pull my thumb out my ass and do that if people prefer it: Answer a poll!

ANYWAY:

You have until August 1st 2024 to create something; be that art, writing, music, ect. You then post your work and @ tag @ your partner in it! You can also submit it to this blog, however I will try to share everyone's works regardless.

Due to time zones and life in general I'll give a day's grace period, but the cut-off will be August 5th (If you fill in the form then PLEASE do try to create something for your partner, even if it's something small) Obviously things come up, so if it's looking like you won't be able to create something then please get in contact ASAP so that I can sort something out.

[cyanide-joe]

Olive/Oliver/Olivia Basil: The Hearth, The Kindness SOUL, The Third Sacrifice, The Burnt Out Husk with a Heart of Gold.

Any Pronouns (Genderfluid)

Age at Death: 15

Stats: LV 3 (No ExP)

● Human: ATK 10 DEF 11 HP 20

● Monster: ATK 64 DEF 61 HP 1800

● Determined: [...]

Motivation: Follow Grace’s lead/ Ensure the reborn are comfortable and well fed.

Reason for Falling: So nobody would be burdened by her presence again.

Cause of Death: Surrendered his soul to Asgore after they rediscovered their will to live.

Personality: Listless, tired and gruff, the light in Olive's soul was dimmed by a life of tragedy and self sacrifice, and now is a shell of her former self. Where before he would put on a facade of quiet deference to placate others, since his rebirth he has become far more blunt and honest with his opinions. Moreover, she has also become more apathetic to the world, and often needs prodding from the other reborn to take action. Yet, despite herself, he still finds that he cares for others and their wellbeing. And so he find purpose in helping her newfound family, especially when it comes to cooking, one of they only things they still find satisfaction in even if some days they would rather lay down a die.

Relationships: The reborn (Parental stewardship it's the only thing am good for), Clover (concerned), Grace ( Co-parent and platonic partner), Nadia (Big help! And fun to listen to), Felix (Annoyance but they sometimes make me smile ), Alice (Keep her close, for her sake and everyone else's), Toriel (Too much like my mother), Asgore (Understanding, but no forgiveness), Alphys (The only person I hate), Monster Friends (I hope they moved on from me).

Magic:

● Bullets: Fire based (much to his chagrin), as well as many cooking themed patterns.

○ Green Bullets: Food Items

● Shield/Green Soul Mode: He can create a magical shield that can block magical and even physical attacks and may expand it to cover an entire group or grant it to (or force it on) another. Can also be used to lock others in place.

● Empowered Healing: Her healing magic can repair physical injury, to the point that it can reattach missing parts (but not regrow them). It can also bolster the body to make it resilient against poison and diseases. However it requires direct contact and can exhaust both him and the recipient, requiring rest and feeding afterwards.

○ Empowered Growth: It can also accelerate the growth of plants and fungi, and cause them to become abundant with food for harvest. Food harvested this way has the effect of monster food when eaten. However pushing too far or for too long can kill the plant.

○ Infuse: Can infuse their magic into regular food, granting it healing properties and protecting it from spoiling.

● Fire Body: Her fire element renders her immune to extreme heat and non-magical fire, and while she is resilient against the cold, extreme cold without protection can exhaust her flames trying to keep herself warm. She can also chose to ignite any flammable object she touches.

Other Notes:

● Being the eldest sibling in a relatively poor household she had little time for herself as she spent most of it helping her family until the kitchen fire took them all away.

● Has pyrophobia they hate their own magic .

● Water doesn't hurt him, it only extinguishes his flames while submerged.

● Never had the time to develop any interests or hobbies beyond cooking, and their afraid they have the personality of molasses because of it.

● Her apron and pan are the only things that survived the fire.

● Inspired Grillby to cook.

(The Watcher, The Gladiator, The Hearth, The Survivor, The Dancer, The Judge, The Ambassador)

By @Kays-artstuff

[omgpoindexter]

more nurseydex fics!!!

i’ve been doing my duty properly and reading some different nurseydex fics on ao3 lately 🫡 i tried to find some that are more recent, however i inevitably found some that are older but slipped through the cracks for me.

here are some of the ones i came across that you need to read! i might make this a thing again if anyone is interested, im sure y’all have been much more on the ball with reading nurseydex fics than i have over the years but i do love reccing <3

suddenly this summer it’s clear by @dessertwaffles

The summer before senior year, Nursey and Dex become closer than ever.

Or, Nursey and Dex's developing relationship, as told through their text messages.

i was absolutely grinning the entire way through this. it’s a texting fic, with images rather than plain text (so clever!) but their personalities are so strong and their interactions are just perfect! and you know i love a texting fic

getting used to letting go by @jennybeantime

Dex was supposed to have a fancy job in some city upon graduation, but his plans changed once his uncle died and left the family home in Maine to him. Without immediate obligations of their own, Nursey, Chowder and Farmer follow Dex up there to help him clear it out and clean it up.

this fic is BEAUTIFUL. if you haven’t read it then please do yourself a favour and do it now. it captures certain feelings and emotions so effortlessly and i felt like i was in a little maine bubble living this story with them. i can’t believe i missed this one before, please please read!!

got the feeling you’re the right thing after all by @bisexualnursey

Two and a half years after he breaks up with Dex to go to grad school across the country, Nursey runs into him again when he visits New York for the holidays. What starts as them just rekindling their friendship quickly turns into a whole other thing: a 100% no-strings-attached friends with benefits arrangement while they’re in the same city.

Which is totally chill because Nursey is definitely over Dex. He swears. He’s going back to California soon anyway.

i seriously CANNOT BELIEVE i never read this before but i think i was in my inactive era when this was posted. it’s just so perfect!!! all the feelings and interactions with not only dex and nursey but all the other characters, friends and family, they all felt so real and i loved them so much. i’ll be rereading this a LOT! you should too!!

here i am (leaving you clues) by @averteddeyes

Will loves Nursey. Nursey loves Will. Will isn’t really quite sure how to deal with it.

(Alternatively: Will learns acceptance through poetry, hesitant communication, and brightly colored sticky notes.)

this is really gorgeously written. angst warning, because ouch!!! also poetry as a love language, like a really good selection of poetry, i really enjoyed it and how it weaves into the story. and the bittydex friendship is so important to me!!!

volta by @plusoultres

volta (n.) a turning point or point of change in a poem, most commonly a sonnet.

Or, five times a poem doesn’t reach its intended recipient, and one time it does; five drafts, and one work completed; five turning points, and one ending.

the second fic was inspired by this one, and thank goodness it was because this one totally slipped through the cracks and i’m so glad i read it. their banter is just brilliant and i love the variation in medium, and the poetry is beautiful! i could quote lines from this but im not going to. just. read it

things got weird (when we made out) by @andtimestoodstill

Nursey is being stupid about this. He knows he’s being stupid.

super fun and really cute, i love it when these two are just being idiots. great inclusion of the other teammates too. read it for this line alone: “[You’re doing] That thing where you forget to look like you hate Dex and just stare at him like some Victorian lady who just saw a hot dude for the first time.” because it made me laugh out loud

things that go bump in the night by @smashthatlikebitty

The first time it happens, Dex rolls over and flings so many obscenities in Nursey’s direction that even his Grandmother would have to sit down — and she cursed so much at Dex’s cousin’s wedding that the whole family has been banned from that church ever since.

Nursey just stills in the dark, one shoe off. A languid, infuriating presence. “Chill, man.”

essentially all the times nursey’s clumsy ass wakes dex up in the night. oh how i love pretending these two roomied their way into a relationship! this is so cute, smiled all the way through

some things take two people to build by @cricketnationrise

“You are the single most dramatic person I have ever met,” Dex mutters, trying valiantly to hide his grin.

Or, 5 times Dex wishes their relationship was real +1 time he doesn't have to

this was so fun, yet again i love them being idiots!!! these two in new york city is so important to me. and i for one would LOVE to read the work party 5+1 fic. just saying

[misscoet]

Diana’s lore drop

write down Diana’s background story because i love my girl and i should practice putting my incoherent random thoughts into actual sentences more

Diana was born in one of the barracks of the Astra Militarum's fortress, destined to follow in her parents' footsteps as another guardswoman. That was the plan, until her pyromantic abilities manifested, burning away the life she knew. Despite wanting to choose death and join her parents in the embrace of the Emperor, she was instead collected and sent to the Black Ship by Arbitrators. After a long torturous voyage and a test between life and death, she was deemed stable enough to undergo the sanctioning process. After years in the Scholastia Psykana, she was assigned to serve as a front line battle psyker in an Imperial Guard regiment.

During her service, despite being one of the mutants, she grew close to her commissar. She adopted many of his mannerisms and demeanor, and their proximity led to a relationship that, though unspoken and undefined, lingered between them. Yet she knew that he would end her life without hesitation if she ever lost control. She was tracked down by agents of the Von Valancius Dynasty and snatched aboard a voidship, where she was revealed as one of the heirs to the dynasty and given a new name — a title almost too heavy for her to bear.

Outwardly collected and almost aloof, her mask barely conceals her emotional and sensitive nature. Grappling with the weight of Imperial dogma and her own ideals — a desire to save and protect everyone, the horror she has witnessed committed in the Emperor's name, the understanding that necessary sacrifices must be made, and the belief that people can change and be saved if given the chance.

She is not accustomed to leading and struggles with crippling self-doubt, always questioning and overthinking her choices and decisions. She can become easily overwhelmed and retreats back to her own mind by shutting everything out as a reflex learned from her psyker training — becoming cold and distant to protect herself from collapsing entirely. But even not without hesitation — she is willing to take a risk. Over time, she has learned to accept her mistakes and live with the consequences. She shows kindness and respect to those who deserve it but will not tolerate anything that jeopardizes the lives of those around her. If necessary, she will pull the trigger herself. Eloquence is not her forte — she was raised to be a soldier and turned into a frontline weapon. Almost everything she says is straight to the point and can sometimes come across as sarcastic or insulting. She doesn’t intend to be rude or hurtful; she’s simply still learning to choose her words more carefully. Patience is not her virtue either, but she has come to understand that some battles are won by the willingness to wait.

Growing up alone and shunned, she clings to anyone who shows her even a sliver of kindness, regardless of whether it’s manipulation, genuine affection, or pragmatism. She is willing to walk down paths she knows lead to nowhere, just to keep the thread of connection alive. As a psyker, she knows that even the slightest slip could spell disaster or death for herself and those around her. Her sleep is constantly haunted by warp-induced nightmares, and sex has become one of the tools she uses to distract her mind. Though she has never been much for games, she enjoys playing coy and making forward remarks when she’s in control. However, when she's the recipient of flirtation, she becomes flustered and flushed instead.

I think a lot about Diana being a mix of someone who’s believed there’s a goodness in everything but witness enough horrors to understand why things are the way they are. Girl is just a mess of contradictions with mental issues and can actually kill people if she starts to think too much.

[jkl-fff]

How many people said something along the lines of on/in/by [government building] for the flamingo? That's got to be one of the most common answers, right?

Also, how many people do you send these asks to? I NEED STATISTICS

Alright, we'll go ahead and call it now for statistical analysis purposes.

Some quick context for my followers who are unfamiliar with my daily, little project called "Silly Game Time" (and if this makes you interested in it, let me know in the replies, and I'll start including you). Yesterday, I dispatched the following question to a bunch of people:

In every nation, a giant flamingo (300 feet or 91.4 meters tall) shall be erected. And *you* get to decide where one of them will go on your continent, without any restrictions at all! Where are you placing it?

Final Count of Respondants: 107.

(Which surprised me, honestly, since my vague guesstimation was that I sent it to between 60 and 70 different accounts. We can therefore probably assume that it was about 115 total recipients, being liberal in factoring in people who didn't answer, since the respondant number turned out to be so much higher than I believed even the total recipient number to be. This is because I do a first-time send to pretty much anyone who reblogs one of my posts to see if SGT would interest them. Some never answer, which is fine, of course.)

As for people who placed the giant flamingo *explicitly* on or in or beside a government building (regardless of nationality, regardless of if it was executive, legislative, judicial, or even clerical in one case),

that number is 15.

However, some of them are a bit ambiguous, not being *explicitly* buildings for governance, but arguably very linked to the concept of a nation, and thereby to its government. Maybe. For example, 4 put the flamingo through the homes (or flesh) of a despised politician (hells yeah). 4 put it in heart of their nation's capital city. And 8 put it beside, balancing on top of, or as a replacement for iconic landmarks and monuments. Some of these might be weaker cases (the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty), but others feel stronger (like the Washington Monument and Big Ben).

So there you go! And thanks for the fascinating question that gave me a fun, little side project throughout the day!

[pokemoncenter]

On Time Travel

Before I begin, I wish to state very clearly that this is not to be taken as fact or a dedicated primer on the subject. This is my own attempting to sort out the information I learned from Bill on the subject, by writing it out in a clear form. There may be mistakes, inaccuracies, and misunderstandings in this text.

Bill created the Time Capsule system in 1999. This system only allows for the transfer of Pokeballs up to three years into the past, and only within the Kanjoh region. The reasons for this are energy- The further something is moved in time, the more energy it takes. The further it is moved in space, the more energy it takes. And most importantly, the more mass it has, the more energy it takes- The other two are more workable, but the mass-energy requirement increases exponentially.

A single Pokemon in its Pokeball can be sent three years across time with the electricity a Pokemon Center has. Something larger, such as a Machop outside of its ball, would take an entire city's energy for a week to make the same trip.

An adult human would take enough energy to power all of Galar for a hundred years, and they would likely cease to exist in transit. We will get back to that part.

Time is not a straight arrow that can only move one direction. It is simply another axis of movement. We all move through time at one second per second, without accounting for relativity, from past towards future. However, as it is a single axis, movement can be achieved along that axis in both directions. Thinking of it as a fourth spatial dimension can help visualize it. Time's ongoing nature is not an inherent aspect of time, but of the beings that interpret it this way.

According to the Many-Worlds Interpretation, there are near-infinite timelines. Anything that could happen in multiple ways, happens in every possible way in different timelines. Thus, as time moves forward, time branches into infinite possibilities. However, according to Bill, there are two important notes to that.

First, it is not only forward. Time actually branches out in both directions. It branches backwards, such that 'every possibility that could lead to this moment' is a branch. Furthermore, there is a principle he calls 'path of least resistance'.

The same way water moves in space according to the path of least resistance, he says that time follows its own path of least resistance. To move from one instant to the next, things that would require too much change or a change of information cannot happen. Thus, when sending a Pokeball back in time, one does not actually need to worry or account for alternate timelines- By sending things backwards in time, it will branch into the timelines where the reception is possible, by following that path of least resistance.

However, the greatest problem of this is information.

By following the path of least resistance, things that did not exist in the recipient era cannot be sent there. Not just objects, or creatures, but information itself cannot cross the gap. Knowledge would be forgotten, or be scrambled. Discoveries cannot be made.

The key principle to understanding this is that there is no omnipotent, intelligent force overseeing things. Time does not have a guardian which keeps the timeline in order. It is simply a matter of energy- The energy to overcome the 'path of least resistance' to cause a paradox with information does not exist in our world, and possibly not in our universe. Thus, time itself will 'correct' the paradox, by forcing it out of your head. This is because forgetting it is 'possible', and so it would be slid into a timeline where that forgetting does happen.

If forgetting was not possible- If there is simply too much information to be forgotten, that there is simply no way it could possibly be lost- Then there will be no timeline that can receive that time travel. At which point, the outcome is...

Either total cessation of existence, or perhaps something else. A non-timeline. Either way, once this occurred, that information is lost to us, as surely as if it fell into a black hole.

... This is all I could understand. I hope any of you can understand this as well.

[therapardalis]

Do you need something carried in Ankh-Morpork? From Ankh to Morpork, back the other way, up or down, upside-down? Without the Guilds, Gatekeepers or anyone else getting their hands on it?

Then you need ... Spurious Couriers.

Or rather the spurious courier, who might put herself forward as the face of a company, but is really much closer to a sole trader.

Thera Landsend believes she might have been born somewhere in the Ramtops, but her earliest memories are of living in Pseudopolis and later ones in Quirm. She spent some time at the Quirm College for Young Ladies, following in her mother's footsteps. While there she was a favourite of the PE teacher 'Iron Lily', and part of a not-a-coven-we-just-read-books-and-run-about-in-circles group that almost burned down the chemistry lab twice.

Unfortunately, it seems that Thera's father had been financing her education via the time-honoured business practices of embezzlement and industrial espionage. Some might readily blame her mother's influence, but the truth is he went along with it all quite willingly; looking after one's family, he felt, should be a man's priority, and he took that very much to heart.

The Quirm constabulary, however, took it very much another way, 'looking after his family' meant getting the hell out of town, and they relocated to Ankh-Morpork.

Which left Thera as a WIP - Witch In Passing - still at a young age in a part of the city that was safe to hide out in - but only because nobody wanted to look.

It was a few years afterward, learning the streets of the city and the dynamics at play among the Guilds and politicians, that she struck on the idea of running a delivery service; messages, parcels, anything small enough or secret enough that it had to get there without anyone being the wiser. The lesson she took from her father and her own observations was that not everything illegal was bad, and not everything legal was good.

Thera picks her jobs, takes payment in advance, and once her word is given she will get that message through to the recipient come hell or high ... whatever that sludge is pretending to be a river. Gaining her agreement might take some persuading, but Spurious Couriers will get the job done.

[alchemistofthenewage]

Helpful for learners:

How to communicate a new concept effectively? (How the human mind likes it)

Context:

Always provide context for everything you are about to talk about in connection to these questions-

-Why we need to know this?

-How does this co-relate to the grander scheme of things?

-How and where will this information benefit me?

Never take the context for granted. Give it its due share, and even if its kept short, it’s best not to skip it

Introduction:

When you begin, arouse curiosity in the topic to create a receptive audience. Start with something that is known and is simple to understand. Don’t deep dive into unknown territory immediately. Give the mind time to adapt and trek into the unknown terrain slowly and gradually.

Visualize it:

The concept or idea being described should take on a certain shape or form in the mind of the individual. It can be different from the way you visualize it. However, your words should arouse simultaneous images or symbolic representations in the mind’s eye of the recipient in order to fully grasp a concept, otherwise it is just something vague and abstract. Also, there needs to be a sequence or smooth transition from one point to another to form this picture in the mind’s eye. Sudden transgressions or jumping from topic to topic without forming connections/tying up loose ends can lead to confusion and disruptions in understanding the concepts.

Register:

The orally spoken words should register in the minds of the recipient, in a way that they are easy to repeat and comprehend. The language and vocabulary used should be replicable in the mind of the recipient on listening. They should follow through what is being said and not get stuck or lost at point where communication barriers pop up. Even if they translate it in their own head or make sense of it in their own way, it’s important that the information registers with them.

Wrap up:

The closing statements should have a general overview and revision of everything covered in the discussion. This allows for a complete understanding and assimilation of a concept. It also prepares the mind to come back to the moment and return to regular thought.

Feedback:

The communication from sender to receiver is not linear. It’s not as passive as it seems. The receiver is consciously engaging with the ideas and participating in the process of responding to the speaker, not just by listening, but by registering correctly what has been sent. The uninterrupted receiving by the listener to the depth of their being, completes the communication process. The feedback loop is hence accomplished when if you ask the audience to repeat what is said/express their piece of mind, they respond in a way that shows that they are on the same page as you.

[prismaticpichu]

Hi! I hope I'm not disturbing you, I'm sorry if I'm asking too much, so umm can you make Seph Zack, like Seph is trying to craft or build something, Zack is curious, Seph is writing his journal, Seph's memories when he was little, add angst, Zack protective, comfort/hurt, fun, I hope its okay for you. ♥️❤️🤗🫂

Ahhhhh! Not at all, my friendo!! ❤️ I appreciate your asks so much you have no idea lol!! 😂 ✨ Receiving prompts is all a writer can ever ask for!!!

As for this prompt!- wooo boy! That’s a lot of ingredients to add to the pot! Annnnnnnd I think i’ma just gonna be a lazy butt and shamelessly promote some fics that have covered all those points in the past! xD

*ducks chair*

LOOK A PICHU’S DMW CAN ROLL A DUD EVERY NOW AND THEN ehehhehehshshdhdhdhhdhdh

~

“Seph is trying to craft or build something, Zack is curious, fun” ~ I present to you…. my very old fic, On Pins and Needles!!! This little oneshot follows Zack discovering Seph has a little hobby that one may not expect. https://archiveofourown.org/works/39779433

“Seph's memories when he was little, add angst, Zack protective, comfort/hurt” ~ I present to you… my not too old fic, Lightning! This fic here starts with a rather brutal memory of Seph’s childhood, followed by a very loving and tender Zack comforting his friend in the aftermath. https://archiveofourown.org/works/51209863

“Seph is writing in his journal” ~ okie doke, so! I don’t reeallllly have a fic that covers this, but I DO happen to have a random snippet in my WIPs that’s literally called “Sephiroth’s Journal” 🤣🤣 Alright…. CONVENIENT LOL

~

13 September 2023

Frankly, I am not too certain what to write here. And I suppose that already muddies the purpose of why this notebook was given to me. I was instructed to simply journal my "thoughts", whatever they may be, omit everything else in my mind and write my thoughts without thinking at all. He told me I think too much. He also told me I am too stiff when I speak, and I was to try to be as colloquial as possible. "Talk to yourself!" he told me. "Mimic a conversation." I cannot promise that I will be able to adhere to this, but I will try.

I suppose if this was to be a conversation, I would start by introducing myself. My name is Sephiroth. Had I not been my own recipient, I am certain whoever reading this would have heard that name before. It is more... widespread than I would like to admit. But that is my life. "The cards I was dealt" as he would say. Though I do not believe there is any true power dealing these supposed cards, I have long come to accept them. I am not angry. I am not bitter. I am not particularly happy with them; I just play with what I was given. But I digress. I am a SOLDIER First Class, among the highest rank in the military. Please let it be known that I say this without any sense of a arrogance or pretentiousness. I have been fighting all my life, and these are the results of years of ceaseless training. I would rather not talk about that chapter of my life, however. Maybe another day. I think I will choose to focus on the present for the time being.

Such as right now, for instance. Tonight I write from my bedroom desk, a glass of water to my right and a closed computer to my left. I am much accustomed to working on a computer, if I had to be completely truthful . It is where almost all of my work is done. Incidentally, I was planning on resuming my work upon returning to my quarters tonight. But he had gifted me this journal today, and I did not want his kindness to be in vain.

I suppose I should stop referring to the boy as "Him." It is very disrespectful, now that I think about it, how I had not properly included him by now. Him--I said it again, didn't I? My apologies. The him I am referring to, his name is Zack Fair. He is a SOLDIER First Class, just as I. He is also my lieutenant.

Heh. I think I know what to write about. But I will save it for tomorrow; it is getting late. I promised Zack I would be in bed by midnight.

~

Hopefully this is a satisfactory answer lmao!! ❤️ Apologies for my indolence; I think I’ve honestly just been pushing myself a little hard lately, and I can smell the faintest ashes of a burnout spell creeping in.

[ananke-xiii]

for @slutsons-blog 💖

I'll explain the genesis of this post in case anyone else is interested!

The frame of reference of the post is basically the way I see Cas from s6 unitl 15x18 which I guess you haven't watched yet? But you're on this website so I must presume you know what happens in that episode, right? It's the episode where Cas says this:

I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be? What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer because the one thing I want… It's something I know I can't have. But I think I know… I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it.

I'm not denying the pathos of the moment and its poetry and I understand its importance in the wrapping up of Castiel's arc for s15. However, I personally have huge problems with this way of thinking about happiness. If I put my thinking cap on I'm very suspicious of that equivalence where happiness = not having = just being = just saying. I find it profoundly false and purposely vague which makes it more interesting to analyze.

Then there's the notion of "true happiness" which always makes my ears perk up because, you know, "truth" is a super loaded topic and combined with that of "happiness" you might as well have the recipe for a philosophical bomb in your hands.

What this little declaration sounds to me is very dangerously close to the famous "happiness real only when shared", the annotation that Christopher McCandless wrote next to a passage from the novel "Doctor Zhivago", a story also about a difficult love between two people that ultimately ends in death. The passage was the following:

And so it turned out that only a life similar to the life of those around us, merging with it without a ripple, is genuine life, and that an unshared happiness is not happiness, so that duck and vodka, when they seem to be the only ones in town, are not even duck and vodka. And this was most vexing of all.

I haven't read the novel so I couldn't really speak about it but it seems to me that its political aspect shouldn't be ignored given that Boris Pasternak was faced with the threat of exile by the Communist Party (among other things) upon news of being the recipient of the Nobel Prize for that specific novel.

In this light the collectivist dream of "merging without a ripple" has some serious ominous undertones, therefore "happiness" in that passage might (or might not, again I haven't read the book, I just know of its context) as well be equivalent to omologation and comformity.

Now, of course, while I don't know and forever won't know what McCandless took from that passage that made him write the "happiness real only when shared" famous annotation, I do know that in mainstream culture this has come to mean, that is that the only real, or I might just say "true", happiness is when you share life with other people or when, I might just say, you reveal your feelings to other people. Which still hasn't solved my issue: what does true/real happiness mean? what do "real" and "true" mean and how do these adjectives affect "happiness" and decide when it's real/true and when it's not? And, finally, who dictates what reality and truth are? It seems to me that the answer to the question has just been shifted but not resolved.

And I think it's not resolved because we keep imagining our society as based on lack, on the things we can't have and never will which is a phallogocentric view of the world.

This is where the "lacanian supernatural" idea of my post comes from. If you wanna explore the inner workings of my brain, more below.

I'll try to be brief which means I'll have to oversimplifly lots of stuff which means this stuff will not be properly contextualized but these French philosophers/psychoanalysts talked.and.wrote.A.LOT. and then they modified their views during the years and also it's been 7 years since I'm done with them so it is what it is, that is I hope it'll make sense.

Basically Lacan revisited Freud's works and posited that the real trauma for people is not literally related to sex but, more symbolically, to language. He used Freud's Oedipal complex to express that the paternal function doesn't mean an actual fear of castration but it's the function that imposes the Law and defines what can be desired and attained and what cannot. For Lacan, it's not about the anatomical penis, but about the "phallus" which is a symbolic signifier of lack and sexual difference. To put it bluntly, the lacanian father(s, there are actually three fathers but let's not go there for now) is what comes between the child and the mother and tells the child: you are not your mother (but "I am your father" hahahah lol little joke), in this way he makes the child desire to go back to being one with the mother and makes the child enter the world of language which is the world of the "Law" (life like it is established to be lived: norms, social relations, kinship relations etc).

Now we have a problem Houston 'cause yes, castration is not literal, cool, but it's still something that happens. According to Lacan what gets castrated is the "jouissance": the lack of jouissance is what constitutes the subject. Now, what is this jouissance, you may ask? Well, it can't be translated into English. It can be translated as "enjoyment" altough you might want to bear in mind that "jouir" in French also means "to have an orgasm", just fyi.

Here Lacan expanded on Freud's "pleasure principle" because he differentiated between "plaisir" (pleasure) and "jouissance". "Plaisir" still obeys Freud's "pleasure principle" (everything we do, we do it to obtain pleasure and avoid unpleasure) while "jouissance" is trangressive because it goes "beyond the pleasure principle". According to Freud beyond this fucking principle there's only death: in other words humans tend towards death (the death drives). "Jouissance" is therefore both enjoyment and the road to death.

In Lacan's view "jouissance" cannot be experienced because the world is ruled by the symbolic signifier of the phallus which dictates a life based on lack as per above. For Lacan jouissance cannot be reached even by sex, the jouissance in sex is just a fantasy related to body parts. Now don't ask me why but later in life Lacan started to rethink some of the stuff he said and basically he started saying that there is an "other jouissance*", which is a "feminine jouissance" that can be experienced because it's a jouissance of the body that is "beyond the phallus" (which to me seems a total contradiction of his other points but okay, I guess), but which is nevertheless an "étrange" meaning "strange" jouissance. From this "étrange" stuff he went on to play on the word as "être-ange", meaning to be an angel, to talk about asexual jouissance.

*This concept of the "other jouissance" was then used by some French feminists, notably Cixous, to describe women's sexual pleasure and, more broadly, women's ability to create and be creative (as I said I'm oversimplifying so don't come at me tumblr academics). So no more death drive talks people, this is about creation and joy and pleasure beyond the phallus.

Finally, I want to say that I don't agree with almost anything of the above, but it's still interesting to read stuff through lacanian lenses cause some of his takes are like a trip or something hahahah. Quite a few philosophers have criticized Lacan, namely Derrida because they were like: dude, even if it's not the real thing you're basing everything on the phallus, are you okay? 'Cause, like, as you can see Lacan's central idea is the "phallus" that, anatomical or not, still gives meaning to everything. This is what Derrida calls "phallogocentrism" (the centering on the phallus + logos) i.e. the Western tendency to privilege language and the masculine point of view to create and shape discourses. Other philosophers like Deleuze and Guattari in "Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia" have criticized Lacan because his theories were based on a concept of desire as lack while for them desire is very much active, present and an affirmative vital force. They have also criticized the idea of the Other (which in Lacan is the mother but, again, there technically are three mothers but, as I've said, we won't go there) as the negative difference through which the norm (the Law) is established and have advanced the notion of positive difference, aka an Other that's not a minus compared to the Law.

And this is what I meant when I wrote in the tag that Berens is my enemy because saying that happiness is in "just saying it" means that what's important is the language and the word and that's it's okay to want and not having because desire is lack and like, no dude, not at all.

Sooooooooooooo. Are you still there?

I will proceed to translate my post now LOL.

in the lacanian (= a world founded on the phallus, therefore on lack and where desire is unattainable) supernatural that damingingly lives in my head (as you can see) the one thing castiel wants and he knows he can't have is the other jouissance (women's sexual pleasure and ability to create) but he can't have it because the narrative forces him back into his incorporeal être-ange role (an angel who has no sex and no body and cannot therefore experience other jouissance) while he pretty much wants to have a body and, dare i say, suffers from a little bit of womb envy (just my headcanon that does have some solid proof because Castiel is very closely associated with mothers, births, portals, rifts and children) because that angel doesn't have a death drive but a birth drive (as I said, he doesn't want to die, he actually wants to give birth and create but the narrative, which is lacanian, says no, you can't have that so RIP, see you in your next resurrection and, btw, from s6 you're obvi also gonna be a neurotic, good luck babe!)

[whumpster-fire]

25 Exciting Phrases to Spice Up Your Next Business e-Mail

1: "Dear Motherfucker,"

2: "To whom it may concern, as well as the entire company directory who I am cc'ing because none of you care about my time so I don't care about yours,"

3: If you'd like to know why I am sending this e-mail, please consider reading it for fucking once."

4: "If I do not see conclusive evidence of your head being out of your ass in the next 3-5 business days, I will remove it from your shoulders."

5: "Please attach a current headshot and resume: the latter so I can laugh at your alleged qualifications, the former so I can print it out and put it on a dartboard as advised by HR's Anger Management Seminar"

6: "Due to the considerable destructive forces at my command,"

7: "Cc'ing The Pope on this one to keep him in the loop since the magnitude of this clusterfuck is nothing short of Biblical,"

8: "This is the fourth e-mail I have sent asking you to do your goddamn job. The fifth will be attached to a brick hurled through your office window. You do not want to know what the sixth will be, so get your shit together ASAP please."

9: "Please keep in mind that refraining from inappropriate use of the Reply All button is the only thing separating us from descending into complete Lord Of the Flies anarchy."

10: "All, please review the selection of Dilbert cartoons attached below and reflect on how they might be relevant to the current situation and your role in it."

11: "The Carpool Committee has unanimously voted to play exclusively Alvin And the Chipmunks songs in any vehicle you are a passenger in for a month the next time you schedule a mandatory meeting before 8 AM."

12: "The potted Ficus tree by the 4th Floor break room will be taking the lead on this project from this point on since it is more qualified than any of you."

13: "I didn't think I needed to inform everyone that 'accidentally' stapling your balls to get out of Company Spirit Meetings early is against company policy. However,"

14: "Due to recent events, any personal office supplies brought from home, e.g. paperweights, must now be checked with a Geiger counter."

15: "Please be advised that if you reply with a question that indicates you have not read and understood the list of action items below in its entirety, I will kick you in the teeth so hard you will chew with your appendix in the future."

16: "We regret to announce that Sean is now an outlaw and no longer protected by our Workplace Violence Policy. This decision was not made lightly, but the current situation re: the break room microwaves has forced our hand. Cc'ing Sean to keep him in the loop."

17: "Please keep in mind that you are neither the most profitable nor the most important of our clients, and your disproportionate share of billable hours is due primarily to your whininess, entitled attitude, and inability to give a straight answer."

18: "If you feel the need to contact me outside my scheduled hours, please write your issue on a piece of letter sized paper, then roll it up, seal it inside a glass bottle, and cast it into the ocean. This will get a faster response than emailing, calling, or texting me at 1 in the fucking morning."

19: "Team, As a result of employees being bombarded with hundreds of e-mails after inadvertently hitting reply all, we are now instituting the following change to our e-mail communication policy: to help prevent duplicate corrections, when admonishing a coworker who you feel has used Reply All inappropriately, please make sure to use Reply All as well so the other recipients can see that the responsible party has already been notified of their mistake."

20: "Cc'ing you on every e-mail about this issue due to your record of not giving a shit about a problem unless your time is being wasted."

21: "Please do not disturb the protective circle of salt around the 2nd fridge from the left in the break room, and do not under any circumstances open it without appropriate PPE and an escort from an old priest and a young priest."

22: "After consulting with Legal and HR, we have determined that the ficus tree by the 4th floor break room dispersing pollen into the office environment does not constitute a violation of our sexual harassment policy. Also, please be advised that the ficus tree is female and is not the source of your pollen allergies. No disciplinary action will be taken against it. However, your repeated complaints targeted at the ficus tree based on its status as a plant may constitute a hostile work environment. Please meet with HR ASAP to discuss this further."

23: "Team, Placing an 'Elf On the Shelf' in any location on company premises or within your home office where it may be able to see, overhear, or access proprietary information will result in disciplinary action up to and including termination of employment. Company proprietary data may not be divulged to any unauthorized third parties, and that includes Santa Claus."

24: "Cc'ing Santa Claus to keep him in the loop on this one."

25: "Sincerely, The Only Guy Who Does His Goddamn Job Around Here."