#.Become the next great creator

[leftluminarytragedy]

How to Start Writing a Diary in 10 Steps

You can express your emotions, write down dreams or ideas, and reflect on your daily life in a secure, private setting by keeping a journal. There is no one set method for keeping a diary, but there are certain simple techniques you may use to make the most of your writing. Using starters like motivational quotations can help you start fresh entries if you’re stuck for ideas. Your thoughts, feelings, and opinions about anything—from job to school and everything in between, can be kept private in a diary.

1- Start Diary Writing by Following 10 Steps

How to start writing a diary? What are the things to write in a diary? There is no correct or incorrect approach or things to write in a diary. Everything comes down to personal liking and what works for you. However, I hope the following advice and tips on How to start writing a diary will help you get started.

2- Choose the type of diary that you desire.

A good diary will motivate you to write every day, so it is important to choose it wisely. You don’t have to limit yourself to maintaining a diary on paper; there are many different solutions available. You can utilize a private, password-protected website or blog in addition to keeping a traditional paper diary. You may also just use a computer document.

Paper notebooks allow you complete control and privacy, but without making copies, you won’t have a backup alternative. Remember that anything you keep online can be hacked, so even if your online journal is password-protected or secret, there’s still a chance someone could access it.

3-Ask yourself- WHY?

Before finding the answer to ‘How to start writing a diary?’, you must be clear with ‘why.’ Why do you want to keep a diary, you could ask yourself? – The importance of diary writing. Understanding why you want to keep a journal is the first step at the beginning of writing one. Maybe you want to start a new task, or maybe you just need a way to put your ideas down on paper. In either case, knowing why you want to keep a diary will help you choose the kind that’s best for you.

4- Things to write in a diary-

A regular diary- about routine tasks that you do

A food diary – about various food items (if you are foody)

A business idea diary – if you get business ideas and love to gather them somewhere

A creative writing diary- if you want to write your poems, articles, etc

A Travel diary – if you like to keep a record of places you travel.

It’s critical to keep in mind that journals are designed to be personal and private. This is a fantastic way to keep track of your daily thoughts and experiences. Journals can also be used to keep track of past objectives or goals that you have made. Blogging is a fantastic additional alternative to journaling. Through their own personal blogs, people from all over the world may communicate with one another and share thoughts and experiences.

Establish a schedule.

Set aside a particular time each day to write if you want to be sure you do it. Perhaps you prefer to write about the previous day first thing in the morning, or perhaps keeping a diary helps you decompress. It is more crucial to write every day than it is to write when. You can use your smartphone or your watch to set a reminder to write every day at the same time to ensure that you keep to your writing schedule.

READ MORE....Become the next great creator | Learn from the legends | mugafi

[sun-marie]

What I really think media with ensemble casts, especially those in a traveling group of some kind, are missing are big, blow-out arguments between the group. Especially when there's a conflict of interests, I am such a sucker for when two or more characters disagree so strongly that they realize very little is actually holding them together as a group, and wonder if it's time to go their separate ways.

I feel like a lot of video games, specifically, just kind of assume once the traveling band is "complete", it's forced to stay together until the player expressly permits it, but I don't really find that very compelling and a lot of times it feels more like they're relying on some kind of immediately strong bond that hasn't really been earned. Which is a shame, because in my opinion one of the best ways to strengthen that bond is to have the characters disagree and argue. Maybe they realize they're only being superficially held together and so they temporarily split up, only to then realize how much they've come to care for the others in the group. Then they reunite, make-up, formulate a plan to go forward, and boom, the group bond is that much stronger. Or maybe they don't even split up, and maybe they never learn to like each other, but they decide whatever cause their working toward is more important. Something else, bigger than them, is holding them together.

It just feels like a lot of potential is going to waste to just skip straight to the intense found family bond, without earning it.

[thechurchoftheradiodemon]

Salutations to all of you, gentlepeople!

I love making lists, so I'm gonna update my Radioapple fic recs. All of these feature great aspec representation (non-sex repulsed Alastor for the nsfw ones), great writing, great characterization and amazing storytelling. I've fallen down a rabbit hole called Hellaverse and Radioapple and I can't get out, so I'm hoping to bring all of you with me.

I'd love to read more good fanfics, so feel free to recommend your favs in the comments, please!

Lucid dreams of New Orleans by @radiaurapple . Heartbreaking, fluffy, beautiful, and amazing setting, writting and characterization. It might be becoming my favourite. Human AU (kinda), and deserving of so much love.

Of Saints and Sinners by @morningstarwrites . No list in the Radioapple fandom is complete without this. I don't think I need to write why it's great, everyone knows. The fun, the fluff, the lightheartedness, and fantastic writing skills.

Strange Apetites by GotllPhi. Human Alastor AU, gorey, sexy (nsfw), surprisingly fluffy and intense. The characterizations are on point and the storytelling is *cheff's kiss*. It's on hiatus while the author is getting married, but still a must read.

Lucifer and his Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship series by @keelywolfe . Another nsfw one (much more so), but amazingly done and with great aspec representation. Beautifully written, intense and the story is just hooking. Also, the RadioApple Standalones are a very fun read, the sfw and the nsfw alike.

I shine only with the light you gave me by @soot-and-salt . This one is just a one-shot, but it shot through my heart. Gorgeous short story, great rythm and development, I fell in love. They have a series called We should've been enemies which is also fantastic (and nsfw), very sexy and intriguing, and still developing!

Lolm by @radioapple-heathen . It's only one chapter so far (and marked Explicit for the future of the fic), but it got to me. Fun shenanigans, a pet snake and a shared hatred for technology. It's very well characterized and nicely written.

Eat your Heart out by @seducipher . Modern human AU, nsfw and very addictive. It's still going, but it was a fic a binged in one night. Good characterization and nicely written.

Bedtime Rituals to try out before the next Angelic War by @miribalis . A very cute, fluffy and domestic fanfic that I can't recommend enough. Very well written with amazing characterization, and it's completed!

@notherpuppet 's Human AU series. Another fandom classic, but, again, no list is complete without it. In love with their artstyle, their story and their characterizations. Fluff, fun and shenanigans galore!

I still have too many saved for later that I'm thisting to read, so this list might expand in the future.

Also, if you'll allow me, this is for the spanish speakers: I wrote a short fic (2 chapters), Primavera en Nueva Orleans, that takes place during Alastor's last year alive and after Extermination Day. I'm selfpromoting here, but check it out 👀

Thanks for reading, don't forget to like and comment on your favourite creators' works 📻🍎

Stay tuned!

[writingwithfolklore]

How to Nail your School Essays

             ��  Not to brag, but I’m kind of a big deal when it comes to essays at my school. Since I started highschool I haven’t received a grade less than 90% on an essay—so I’m here to share my secret. This works for the classic essay, but you can also use the same advice and fit it to formal reports or other academic writing.

1. Your essay is about 2 things, demonstrated 3 or more times

This is how I’ve always thought about essays. They’re about two ideas, demonstrated as many times as you need to fill the wordcount. Shakespeare + Feminism, Media + Truth versus Misconception, etc. etc. If you’re lucky, your teacher or prof will give you one of your elements. You’ll get assignments like, “write an essay about Hamlet” or “write an essay about the American dream” lucky you, that’s your first thing—now you need to connect it with another.

This connecting idea is my favourite part because you just get to choose a concept or idea you’re interested in. Here’s a tip, if your first/given topic is something concrete, choose an abstract connecting idea. If your given topic is something abstract, choose a concrete.

So, Hamlet (concrete) could be paired with any abstract concept: Loyalty, Truth, Feminism, etc.

However, if your prof gives you something like, “truth” or “race theory”, you’ll find it much easier to connect that with a more concrete thing, like a book, movie, or other piece of media, or even a specific person.

If you are luckiest, your prof will give you both things, “write about the American Dream in The Great Gatsby” in this case, you’re onto the next stage.

2. Stick to the formula

Tried, tested, true. Nothing wrong with a formula, especially not when it gives you A+ grades. Typical essay structure is:

Intro with thesis

2. 1st Body

2a. Evidence that proves it 1

2i. Justify its relevance

2b. Evidence that proves it 2

2ii. Justify its relevance

Etc.

3. 2nd Body

3a. Evidence that proves it

3i.Justification

Etc.

4. 3rd Body

4a. Rise and repeat, you know where this is going.

5. Some may argue…

6. Conclusion

Let’s break it down.

Thesis:

                Thesis completely outlines all your points, or the three+ places you’re demonstrating your connection, and why it matters.

                Here is an intro + thesis I wrote a couple years ago:

“This literature review will explore the impacts influencer marketing has on the children that regularly consume social media content. Specifically, this review will focus on how influencers can impact children’s brand preferences, dietary choices, and lastly, the influx of children taking advantage of this system and becoming influencers themselves.”

Or

“Burned discusses the human aspect of sex work and reverses reader’s expectations on sex workers, while Not in My Neighbourhood discusses prostitutes as victims of a system created against them. Both challenge readers’ perceptions of sex workers, effectively drawing attention to the ethics of displacing sex workers from their cities.”

                So you have your connection (children and social media)/(Burned and Not in My Neighbourhood and sex work), and the different ways you plan on exploring or proving that idea (children’s brand preferences, dietary choices, children becoming influencers.) etc.

                You may also have a more specific stance in your thesis. Such as, “In Macbeth, ambition is shown to be Macbeth’s ultimate downfall in these three ways.”

The Body Paragraphs

                You start out every body paragraph with the point of the paragraph, or what it’s aiming to prove. Such as, “Influencers often include advertisements within their content, which can encourage children to feel more amiably to certain brands their favourite content creators endorse frequently more than others.”

                After this claim, you spend the rest of the paragraph further proving it through examples. This will look like citing a specific source (a book, academic journal, quote, etc.) such as, “The authors claim likeable influencers can associate their likeability with the products they use, influencing children’s perception of brands, referred to as ‘meaning transfer’ (De Veirman et al. 2019)” (super important to always cite these sources!)

                The last part is after each example/proof--you need to justify why this proves your point/is important. So, “This proves children are more influenced towards certain products depending on how close of a relationship they perceive to have with the influencer.”

                Typically, your evidence will all lead into each other so you can transition to the next piece of proof, then the justification, rinse and repeat until you’re finished your paragraph. You can have as many pieces of evidence as you want per paragraph, and the longer your word requirement, the more you’ll want to fit into each point (or the more bodies you want to have.)

                Piece of evidence + why it matters, rinse and repeat.

Some May Argue:

                This is a small paragraph just before your conclusion where you anticipate an argument your readers may have, and disprove it. So, for example, you’d start with, “Some may argue that with parent supervision, the impacts of influencers on children could be lessened or moot. However…” and then explain why they’re wrong. This strengthens your argument, and proves that you’ve really thought out your stance.

Conclusion:

                Lastly, you want to sum up all the conclusions you came to in a few sentences. Your last line is one of the most important (in my opinion). I call it the mic drop moment. Leaving a lasting impact on your reader can bring your essay from an A to an A+, so you really want to nail this final sentence.

                My final sentence was, “Ultimately, it is hard to know in advance how technology and social media will impact the development of children who have always grown up with some form of screen, but until they grow up, parents and caregivers need to take care in the content their children consume, and their very possible exploitation online.”

This sentence is backed by the entirety of the essay that came before it, and usually leaves a little something to chew on for the readers.

Any other tips I missed?

[queenothegeeks]

Awkward creator reader drabbles

This is based off a previous post about the reader being an awkward creator.

(warning, this all based off of chaotic ideas me and a friend had while on call, and this is not beta read, so I apologize for any bad spelling or grammar)

Imagine, just, having tea with Zhongli, and he's just talking about wine or something boring idk, and he notices that you look a little zoned out, like, eyes glazed over, mind clearly elsewhere. While he’s worrying about The Creator not liking him or whatever, you are just trying to figure out how to process being in another world, with all these people that you know everything about, but at the same time, don’t know anything at all. 

When you notice him looking at you weird and not talking anymore, you worry that you may have missed something important. So you just blurt out the first thing that came to mind, to fill the silence. 

“It's kinda funny that you're working under Hu Tao. She’s like, a billion years younger than you. Also, you should cool it on the adventuring, you might throw your back out gramps.”

And then, realizing what you said, you just grab your now lukewarm  (yes, he was talking for that long) cup of tea (or whatever else you want if you don’t drink tea)  and take a long sip, trying to hide your red face. 

(Bonus, you choked on your tea) 

Imagine going to Fontaine, and just gawking at the scenery there. Imagine, in order to find out about where in the timeline you are (and because you want to see some of your favorite characters) you decide to go to the opera house, and see if there's a trial going on, where you can ask Furina or Neuvillette about the wellbeing of Fontaine. Instead, you find a flier for Lyney and Lynette's magic show at a nearby theater. Deciding to go, you pay the ticket master, who looks in slight shock as the creator buys back row seats like a normal person (you were too scared to ask for a better seat while paying, so you just asked for the cheapest one) 

Sitting down, you wait nervously for the show to start, all being completely ignorant of the panic and rumors backstage. 

“The creators here! At our show!?”

“Calm down, it's fine, we don’t even know if it’s true.”

And, just to stir the pot, a tall lady sits next to you. You feel like you should know her from somewhere, she just seems so… familiar. 

Realizing you had been staring for quite a while, you turn your head back to the stage, waiting for the show to start. About midway through the show, you realize who it is you are sitting next to.

The knave, fourth of the Fatui harbingers. 

At the end of the performance, you shift in your seat, suddenly wayyyyyy more self-conscious than you were at the beginning of the show.  Wanting to say everything and nothing at the same time, you decide it's best to shut your mouth for the time being. It’s probably not even her, why worry-

“Excuse my rudeness, would you happen to be the creator?”

She knew you were of course, hence why she chose to sit next to you, instead of the front row seat that was reserved for her, as it always was at one of her children's performances. 

“I.. am… but you can call me y/n! I don’t really like fancy titles or anything! Would you be the Knave? Or do you prefer Arlecchino? ack-wait , sorry. I’ll shut up now, let's start fresh, what do you think of the show?”

You half say-half shout, flailing your hands around, and then shrinking in your seat, trying to become as small as possible. Arlecchino chuckles.

“I think it was a lovely performance, as they always are. My children are very talented, you know.” 

“Y-yeah! They're really great! I have to go! Great meeting you miss-Arlecchino-Knave-ma’am” 

You say as you bolt out of the room, the embarrassment and social awkwardness you naturally possess driving your feet. 

(Bouns, you tripped over your own feet and wanted the floor to swallow you whole) 

@lorkai

[a-d-nox]

web of wyrd: how to identify fame/popularity

the top left corner of the wyrd web can tell you about some of your talents/interests, the core tells you who you truly are, and the flow/career is like the midheaven of the wyrd web realm. that being said, these are basic premises; in no way does one number mean a single thing. each number can mean different and multiple things. these are simply my observations (also observations are not destined to be true; they are simply possibilities / increased odds). if you want to learn more about the major arcana, which is the basis for the web's numbers, click here!

acting

3 (the empress): they are the real star of the show - the camera loves them

11 (justice): they can really step into a persona and become a character

artist

3 (the empress): they have an eye for detail; they are used to sitting still and observing the world. they have a creative instinct to creative because they are venus ruled

18 (the moon): they are very abstract visionaries and creators

breakdown / postmortem

13 (death): this is typically an unexpected occurrence that captures the attention of the masses

16 (the tower): famous breakdowns and even more sudden deaths

20 (judgment): they have a reawaken as to who they are that capture the world's attention

director

12 (the hanged man): the artistic eye for sure; it's because they are a neptunian that they can make their vision into a reality

fashion

11 (justice): i don't how often i can repeat this before everyone gets annoyed, but the fashion of 11 people is just iconic - they are trendsetters

infamous

16 (the tower): these people tend to be popular/famous for something morally unsavory

influencer

8 (strength): the giantess is the guiding hand that in encourages others

literally anything

10 (the wheel of fortune): these people are the type to blow up overnight and get "lucky" by becoming famous

17 (the star): they tend to have ups and downs in their time for popularity/fame but in the end they remain memorable in a lot of people's minds

21 (the world): tends to represent someone with a lot of rewards and fame after a long period of time

nepotistic

14 (temperance): the angel pours one cup into another - like a parent's talent into their child

one hit wonder

22 (the fool): these people tend to fall as soon as rise (due to being uranus ruled) - they take a single big leap then they are good

politics/legals

4 (the emperor): they can be great leaders - they use their powers for the greater good and to better the world around them

7 (the chariot): they tend to make great speeches that inspire the masses

11 (justice): they tend to be more wrapped up in the legal end of things or they are moderates in the political realm

religious leader

5 (the hierophant): they are often seen as wise and can gain a lot of worshipers/followers

research/educational

5 (the hierophant): they tend to make incredible discoveries that further the world around them

19 (the sun): they tend to make a discovery that changes the world around them

singer

3 (the empress): they have a magnetic energy that makes others want to listen to them and watch them preform their creativity

4 (the emperor): they tend to be great rappers and tend to make great diss tracks haha

6 (the lovers): these people are known for their sound and their appearance (they are considered gorgeous)

writer

6 (the lovers): this card is gemini ruled so writing is definitely their thing

9 (the hermit): these people can make their own world - they are good at illustrating their thoughts

12 (the hanged man): they are very good at multi-POV writing and making an idea very realistic

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic" button if you want to see a specific pac/pile next. if you'd like my input on how i read a specific card or what i like to ask my deck, feel free to use the ask button for that as well.

click here for the masterlist

click here for more web of wyrd related posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices.

© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

[alicesivory]

Old Habits Die Hard [4/?]

Previous Chapter // Main Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pairing: Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader

Genre: Historically accurate Aemond

WC: 3370

Summary: Aemond ventures beyond the Wall.

“Your hair looks nicer when it’s braided now.”

It seemed that the she-wildling could not keep her mouth shut. Rolling his eyes, Aemond changed the subject quickly, “How long ‘til we reach your people’s camp?” Aemond asked. “Just keep the horse in a steady pace up ahead and we’ll reach them in no time,” she answered him whilst comfortably sitting in front of him, between his arms that held the reins of the stallion. The reins were relaxed, and the stallion responded effortlessly to his light guidance through the cold and dark forest. The forest stands in eerie silence, its dense canopy casting a perpetual twilight over the twisted, gnarled trees. Shadows dance menacingly across the forest floor, where fallen leaves and branches lie in disarray, as if disturbed by some unseen force. The trees themselves seem alive, their bark scarred and contorted into grotesque shapes, carrying with it the faintest whisper of forgotten secrets, and the occasional creak or groan of the wood echoes through the stillness, adding to the sense of foreboding. 

No wonder they call this the haunted forest. 

“What lies in these woods?” Aemond asked once again. “Wild animals, mostly. But we don’t really hunt at night. It's a bad omen,” she replied. “Sometimes we see them at night, that’s where they emerge.” Her words made Aemond wonder, “Who do you speak of?”

“What do you think the walls were made for?”

Aemond thought for a moment. 

“To keep your kind away from entering the realm,” he said, hesitantly. Not quite confident with his answer. For he knew that the wall’s purpose was more than just keeping a few wildlings out of Westeros but, he does not know what. “It wasn’t even built because of us. My people were separated from yours because we were unlucky enough to live beyond the wall when it was built,” she explained. “It was the others that they were afraid of.”

“Others? Other tribes?”

“No. The undead.”

Chills ran down from Aemond’s spine.

The White Walkers. 

He has read countless books about the white walkers and the long night. How the battle for the dawn unfolded, yet all he knew was that it was all a myth. A fairytale. Stories to scare your child so they would sleep for the night. He recalled how the White Walkers were first written and mentioned during the Age of Heroes. Born of powerful and untested magic, they were created to protect the Children of the Forest during their war with the First Men. What once used to be puppets and soldiers for the Children of the Forest, the magic within the white walkers took a turn and rebelled against their creators and brought nothing but destruction to the realm. 

“But they were nothing but old stories. Fiction, even,” Aemond protested. 

“They are far from fiction, snow-hair.” 

The wildling looked back to him, surprisingly close since they were cramped at horseback. 

“What did they call you back there? I couldn’t recall. Was it Almond?”

“Aemond,” he grunts. 

She chuckled, “I like snow-hair better.”

“And what of you?” Slowly speaking her name which seemed foreign to his tongue. 

“Close enough,” she shrugged with a smirk, looking back into the road. Aemond wondered once again of the undead she mentioned. Were they lurking behind the old trees of this very forest? Were their lives at stake when they stepped their foot to this forest. “They took my brother,” she said, capturing Aemond’s attention. “The undead?” She nodded at his question. “He seemed to forget about time that day. But what kind of child remembers time, really? They wanted to play all day. So he did, running inside the woods without me or my mother’s attention, wanting to become a great hunter who enters the forest with no fear like my father. And he never came back.” 

He felt sorry for the girl, for he himself had felt the same kind of grief when he heard of Aegon’s death. Especially when they could’ve done something to prevent their deaths. “Sometimes I wonder if they buried him at all. If they did, I wonder where they buried him,” she said, spacing off into the distance. “There is no sympathy from the dead. Nor do they care for the living,” he said to her. “I know. But I’d like to think they did. He was just a child.” 

The whole ride quickly became gloomy and sour as the pair battled their grief as bad memories and remorse overcome their thoughts. “Does that stop you from hunting in the forest?” Aemond asked, trying to bring peace to her. “No, not really. I think I became eager to hunt here. Maybe one day I can find him well and just…cleverly hiding between trees,” she said with a bitter chuckle, sensing her denial of her brother’s disappearance. A sense of protectiveness washed over Aemond, knowing what it felt like to see light in the midst of darkness. Denying the truth to comfort yourself. He knew of that feeling. 

“Maybe one day you would. One day.”

Crack. Swish. 

“What was that?” 

Crack. Crack. Crack. 

“A wild beast?” Aemond asked. 

A figure emerging slowly behind the tree as they pass. “That is no beast,” the wildling alarmingly said, taking over the reins and snapped it making their horse gallop through the dark forest. “I would’ve preferred it to be a wild beast so we can take it home, yet you and I know that is no beast, snow hair,” she spoke as the harsh winds of the north hits their faces. Aemond looked back, seeing two..three...four figures catching up onto them. 

“How do we escape them?” He asked. 

“Hold on tight.” 

She took a turn in a swift motion, galloping off the road going between trees. In hopes for them to stop gaining on them. The wildling kept snapping the reins ordering the horse to go faster with only the moon being their source of light. “C’mon…c’mon…,” he heard her grunting as she took a glance behind and saw some still following their tracks. Galloping between trees, their horse finally took them to safety at the edge of the forest, to a clear opening. 

Making Aemond have a clear vision of the undead. 

Their skins were pale, almost blue. 

They look like humans yet they were not at the same time. 

The creatures frightened him more than anything else, but as they neared the edge of the forest, the White Walkers ceased their pursuit and vanished behind the trees. Aemond exhaled deeply, relieved that they had escaped the forest unharmed. Suddenly the horse neighed, abruptly stopping. Making both of them grunt in pain when they nearly fell. “What’s wrong?” The wildling asked the horse before an arrow striked a tree behind them. They looked around, trying to find any signs of life. 

“What are you doing?” Aemond hissed when she stepped down from the horse. “Where’s my dagger?” She whispered, ignoring his previous question. Aemond sighed, tossing her the dagger beneath his black cloak. Catching it with ease, she spoke into the air,

“It’s only me! Gruff? Yuri?” Aemond was curious about those people she called out. Were they one of her people? Who were they?

“Blimey kid, you scared the shit out of us!” 

A loud booming voice suddenly said, emerging from the snowy ecosystem. Their thick fur coats also seemed to be efficient for camouflage. Aemond saw how his peculiar she wildling smiled brightly when she spotted her friend, running towards the tall red haired man giving him a tight hug making them both laugh as he picked her up in his arms. 

Aemond rolled his eye.

“Thought you were gone for! We saw those creepy dead people- thank the gods!” The red haired wildling said, ruffling her hair. “Oww! No! Do you think that low of me, old man?!” She asked with a laugh, shoving the man away from her. “Oi, I'm not that old, young lady.” Locking her head once again with his arm. “Yuri! Look who just came back from the dead!” The red haired shouted, now another wildling emerged from the opening. His hair was blonde, almost as light as the hair of the Lannisters. “We really thought you were dead, kid,” Yuri said, patting her shoulder. 

Who were they? Why were they awfully close with her? 

From what he witnessed, a young woman could only interact like this with the opposite gender if they were siblings or wedded. Even he never saw any of his wedded acquaintances interacting this way. Were they her siblings? They don’t seem to resemble one another, were they bastards? Did they came from different mothers?

Aemond cleared his throat, stepping down from his horse, interrupting their reunion. 

“Ah yes- Gruff, Yuri, this is ehm..Aemond Targaryen. The man that I spoke of to the both of you,” she said. The red haired, who was named Gruff looked Aemond from head to toe. “Gruff and Yuri are my hunting friends. We’ve been hunting together since we were children and fun fact, we have the same grandsire.”

Gruff slowly approached the one eyed prine, keeping an eye on him. Aemond straightened his back to appear taller, gripping the handle of his sword, preparing himself. Once Gruff stopped in front of him, their noses bumping into each other, he spoke, 

“Did your mum fucked a snowman?”

“I beg your pardon–,” Aemond stepped closer, ready to draw his sword out.

“–Alright that’s enough!” She quickly stepped between the two men. “What Gruff was trying to say was, how is your hair silver?” She asked. "My father, my grandsire, my great-grandsire—all of them had silver hair," Aemond hissed, his gaze fixed on the red-haired wildling. "How did they end up with silver hair?" the red-haired wildling asked, crossing his arms. Aemond couldn't believe how absurd this conversation had become. Frustrated, he let his hands drop. "We're from old Valyria," Aemond explained with resignation. "It's simply a trait we have—silver hair is just part of who we are."

“Valyria? What’s that?” The blonde wildling asked curiously. “It's a place far from the north, Yuri– Now come on! We must bring him to the Chief.” Walking past them, she held the horse’s reins and started walking ahead. Gruff purposely bumped Aemond’s shoulder as he passed through the one eyed prince. Aemond rolled his eyes again, resigned to the childish behavior of these people, before catching up and walking alongside her. Compared to the two wildlings, he found her more tolerable. At least she didn’t ask pointless questions.s. “I have told our Chief about you,” she said. “I am sure he will take it easy on you,” she said.

 “Does he takes it easy with anyone else?”

“No, not really. He’s quite rude if you ask me.”

“As rude as your friend there?” Aemond chuckled bitterly.

“You’re in for a ride,” she chuckled, patting Aemond’s shoulder. 

As much as Aemond would like to worry, he could not as he knew that she was the one who brought him to her people. For her people needed him, not the other way around. He hoped that this agreement would be the means for her to fulfill her promise and return him to Westeros once and for all. Additionally, he couldn’t help but notice her diminutive stature compared to his own—she barely reached his shoulder, smaller than any lady from Westeros yet possessing a fierceness and demeanor that defied conventional femininity. A smirk tugged at his lips.. 

And there he saw it. In the vast expanse of snow-covered terrain, a tribe lives a nomadic life, their existence marked by resilience and adaptability. Their tents, typically made of sturdy animal hides or woven materials, scattered across the field. The tents are insulated with layers of fur and cloth, designed to withstand the biting cold. The camp itself is a lively hub of activity despite the harsh environment. Smoke curls up from several central hearths, where fires are kept burning to provide warmth and to cook meals. The scent of roasting meat and simmering stews mingled with the crisp, cold air when he stepped closer to them.

Like when he first entered Winterfell, all eyes fell upon him, following him as he walked side by side with her. “It seems you have captured the people’s attention,” she teased with a cocky smile. “Why is it because of my hair or my eye?” He asked. “Neither. It’s your attire.” Aemond looked down to his clothing. Of course, he’s still dressed like a member of the night’s watch.

“We hate the crows in here, so it’s better for you to strip those clothes after you meet our Chief,” she said, giving him a wink. Before he could protest, a snow hit his cloak, making him flinch. Turning around, he saw a couple of children running around, even snickering at his presence. “Careful now boys!” She chuckled, greeting some of those children. “Never seen a crow, huh?” She crouched down, talking to the children surrounding her. 

“He only has one eye!” One of the children tried to whisper to her. “Scary, isn’t he? Tell you what, I’ll let you pick on him when I’m not around,” she said to the kids, making them snicker and giggle in excitement. 

She was really good with children. 

Throughout his life, he rarely sees his mother or even his sister being this natural with children. It makes him wonder if she has one. 

“For the meantime, can all of you keep an eye on our horse?” Offering the rein to the children, in which they eagerly accepted before taking the horse away. Aemond curiously kept his eye on the horse as the children led it away. “Don’t worry, they are very gentle with horses. They know their purpose,” she reassured him before she started to walk once more. 

Approaching one of the biggest tents in the area, the spearwife stops beside him, “If the Chief likes you, you’ll live another day.” Before smiling mischievously stepping inside the tent. Slightly on edge, he hesitated to follow them inside. But he would not cower in fear and enter anyways. Reminding himself to keep himself in check if he wants to go home. He stepped inside, his eye falling onto a man sitting in his chair as his companions surrounded him, whispering to each other. 

“Chief, I would like you to meet the crow I spoke of. This is Aemond Targaryen,” she introduced him. Aemond nodded with respect to their chief, an older wildling who carefully inspected Aemond, standing up from his seat. “Targaryen,” he said. “A peculiar tribe. Was it true that your family had power over dragons?” The Chief asked in which Aemond instantly nodded, “Yes, my Lord.”

All of them chuckled humorously. 

“Lord? I’m flattered to be called a Lord,” the chief said in humour. 

“So, where is your dragon now?”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Aemond spoke. 

“She was killed at war.” A sense of bitterness, trying to mask his grief and sadness for Vhagar’s death. 

“A shame,” the Chief said. 

A pregnant pause.

“I want everybody out of this tent.” Aemond’s eyes widened. Was he going to be murdered? Did he not fulfil the Chief’s expectations? 

“But Chief–,” 

“–Especially you, girl. I shall talk to you when I’m done with this crow.”

Aemond instantly locked his eye with hers. Even her expression was unreadable as she hesitantly turned around to exit the tent. She gave him a nod, giving him support before leaving him alone with the Chief. Aemond turned his gaze back to the Chief who was crossing his arms inspecting Aemond from head to toe. 

“The girl likes you,” the Chief chuckles. “If it wasn’t for her you’d probably be dead by now. Killed by those crows.” Aemond kept his expression stoic as he brushed off the Chief’s words. “Speaking of crows, she told me you were forced to be one. Was that true?”

Aemond nodded.

“Yes, Chief.”

“What was your crime?”

“I was called a traitor to the Starks. Yet I beg to differ, for it was them who were traitors,” Aemond bravely said. 

“Traitors to whom?”

“The Throne. My brother.”

“Your brother? Your brother sat on a throne?”

“Yes, Chief.”

“That makes you a prince, then.”

A title he deeply missed. Aemond stood proudly, straightened his back as he kept his chin up high. 

“I am–,”

“You were.” 

“For you are currently not in Westeros, my boy. You are beyond the wall. Everyone beyond the wall fights for survival. For nature does not care if you’re a king or a criminal. And so far as I know, you stand before me,” the Chief said, telling Aemond to abandon his title as prince. “Where does your loyalty lie, boy?” The Chief asked, stepping closer to the one eyed prince. “To the crows?–”

“–No,” Aemond spoke with no hesitation. 

“The Starks?”

“Never.”

The Chief hummed in agreement. “The girl told me you wished to be rewarded. To go back to your family.” Aemond nodded, wishing nothing more than that. “So you’re loyal to your family,” he pointed out.

Aemond nodded. 

“Good. A man should always stay loyal to his family.”

He poured his drink onto his cup, “But will you stay loyal to us as you serve my tribe? And lead us to victory?” Aemond looked down, seeing the cup lent to him. Offering a friendship– an alliance– trust. Trusting a wildling. It seemed impossible for him, but he recalled simple questions by those wildlings about his hair. They were a simple tribe, living out of the complicated politics of Westeros. He could outsmart them easily and they’re offering him friendship. 

She paced back and forth in front of the Chief’s tent, waiting for the Targaryen to exit the tent unharmed. “You seemed stressed, kid,” Gruffed snickered, crossing his arms as he took notice on worried expression. “Of course, I am,” she said, stopping her steps abruptly. “May I know why?” He chuckled.

 “Is it because of the crow?–”

“–He is not a crow. He loathes the crows as much as we do.”

Gruff chuckled amusingly. 

“And? I bet Chief will tolerate him–,”

“–What if he doesn't? What if he beheaded that man and puts him on a spike?!–”

“–So what? What if he were beheaded? You should not care for that outsider—,”

“–I don’t care about him! I-I-I just want what’s best for our people–,”

“–You like him,” Gruff points at her with a mocking laugh. “I don’t! You pig!” She shouted defensively, quickly slapping Gruff’s arm repeatedly. “You do! You like that snow haired boy!” Gruff kept pointing at her as he teased her. The young she wildling grunts in frustration as he denies her feelings for the Targaryen. “If you speak of this one more time, I will kill you in your sleep, Gruff.” 

“Oooh you’ll kill me in my sleep, eh? Right, sure you don’t like that boy, surely if he one day betrays us will you kill him in his sleep?”

“I will. And I’ll cut off his cock and hang it in front of your tent,” she speaks bluntly. 

“Right, you sure you won’t use that for anything else?”

Her face turned red before she threw a hard punch across the red haired’s face. Groaning in pain, Gruff still laughed at her being so flustered with his words. “Why do you like him anyways? Is it because of his hair? His eye? Ooh his other eye, the sapphire?” Gruff asked, sitting up curiously looking at his friend. “For the last time, I do not like our new comer,” she repeated herself. “Keep telling that to yourself, kid. If I see silver haired babies one day–.”

The tent opened, Aemond stepping out of the tent.

Unharmed. 

“Ah, so he gave you a chance to live another day,” she said quickly, changing her once worried demeanour into the confident young wildling she is. Aemond could only nod, towering over her. “I shall, and I will.” 

His purple eye fixed on hers, “Where can I find new clothes?”

a/n: stay tuned for the next chapter and I apologize if this is not my best work but😊✨

[probablyasocialecologist]

There is no obvious path between today’s machine learning models — which mimic human creativity by predicting the next word, sound, or pixel — and an AI that can form a hostile intent or circumvent our every effort to contain it. Regardless, it is fair to ask why Dr. Frankenstein is holding the pitchfork. Why is it that the people building, deploying, and profiting from AI are the ones leading the call to focus public attention on its existential risk? Well, I can see at least two possible reasons. The first is that it requires far less sacrifice on their part to call attention to a hypothetical threat than to address the more immediate harms and costs that AI is already imposing on society. Today’s AI is plagued by error and replete with bias. It makes up facts and reproduces discriminatory heuristics. It empowers both government and consumer surveillance. AI is displacing labor and exacerbating income and wealth inequality. It poses an enormous and escalating threat to the environment, consuming an enormous and growing amount of energy and fueling a race to extract materials from a beleaguered Earth. These societal costs aren’t easily absorbed. Mitigating them requires a significant commitment of personnel and other resources, which doesn’t make shareholders happy — and which is why the market recently rewarded tech companies for laying off many members of their privacy, security, or ethics teams. How much easier would life be for AI companies if the public instead fixated on speculative theories about far-off threats that may or may not actually bear out? What would action to “mitigate the risk of extinction” even look like? I submit that it would consist of vague whitepapers, series of workshops led by speculative philosophers, and donations to computer science labs that are willing to speak the language of longtermism. This would be a pittance, compared with the effort required to reverse what AI is already doing to displace labor, exacerbate inequality, and accelerate environmental degradation. A second reason the AI community might be motivated to cast the technology as posing an existential risk could be, ironically, to reinforce the idea that AI has enormous potential. Convincing the public that AI is so powerful that it could end human existence would be a pretty effective way for AI scientists to make the case that what they are working on is important. Doomsaying is great marketing. The long-term fear may be that AI will threaten humanity, but the near-term fear, for anyone who doesn’t incorporate AI into their business, agency, or classroom, is that they will be left behind. The same goes for national policy: If AI poses existential risks, U.S. policymakers might say, we better not let China beat us to it for lack of investment or overregulation. (It is telling that Sam Altman — the CEO of OpenAI and a signatory of the Center for AI Safety statement — warned the E.U. that his company will pull out of Europe if regulations become too burdensome.)

[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — profiles (2)

3 optimists and that 1 negative friend

never in a million years did y/n expect to actually get evicted out of her old apartment, but here she is. luckily for her, her friend seems to have found an alternative place for her. a place that comes with an obnoxious neighbour who is unfortunately hot. despite that, she wouldn’t hesitate twice to break his guitar if given the chance.

jaemin is the friend in question. a happy cat dad who dreams of becoming a famous content creator who is quite creative in almost all aspects. likes to try plenty of different lifestyles, whether it be becoming a fitness trainer, being a chef for a day or suddenly becoming a professional boxer, he’s doing it all. despite his silly antics, he does care about those around him.

being the opposite of y/n in terms of personality, rei and her have managed to somehow become really close friends over the years. it didn’t take much, a quick compliment on her bag and rei had declared her as her best friend right then and there. the sweetest girl you’ll ever meet really.

people sometimes question why karina would surround herself with friends like the other three. the answer is simple, she is loyal to y/n. the two have been great friends for years and y/n can gladly say she was her first fan before karina gained a following and modelling deals. stunning in every aspect, and definitely hard to reach if you’re not already part of the people she knows.

profiles 2 — master list — next

notes ; will be posting the intro tomorrow (hopefully..)

TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @yeritos @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @jaehyunastico @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay

[leftluminarytragedy]

 Writing Guide: 8 Tips on how to Improve your Writing Style

We all know that there is no age to learn new things. Learning is a lifelong process, and learning some new writing skills can help bring about dramatic improvements in the overall quality of your writing. Most people tend to underestimate the importance of having refined writing skills. Writing is one of the oldest forms of communication in the world that still exists today.

Becoming a better writer takes a lot of practice, and even if you don’t think of yourself as a writer, it is one skill that all of us need to master. Even the most minor tasks, such as drafting emails, writing your resume, writing any post on social media platforms, and messaging your friends, require you to put your thoughts into words. And this happens more often than you may realize.

There are certain factors that define a good writing style. Things like short sentences, simple words, and direct language help keep readers engaged. While everyone wants to preserve their unique style of writing, there are several ways to improve styles. Here are eight tips to help improve your writing style.

1. Use easy to understand language

Everyone has different writing styles, and there are many ways to write the same sentence. You can use different words to convey the same idea. One of the first things you can do to improve your style is to use straightforward language while writing. This is the fundamental tip to simply writings in English. Decide to use simple words, regardless of whether they are nouns, verbs, or adjectives. Easy-to-understand and straightforward words tend to have broader connotations. This means that there will be a lesser chance of error when you use simpler terms.

Complex words will have more specific definitions, and if you are unfamiliar with a word but still go ahead and use it, it may throw off the entire meaning of the sentence. Using complicated terms in your writing may also confuse the reader and make them lose interest in what you have written.

So opt for substituting a complex and less familiar word with an easier and understandable word. If unsure, use a thesaurus to help find a replacement word.

2. Watch the length of your sentences when writing

You will find that some of the world’s best writing contains small sentences. One of the most important skills for writers is to limit the use of long sentences. And the best way to do this is to divide a long sentence into shorter sentences. However, this does not mean that all your sentences need to be brief.

In some places, you will need to keep longer sentences as well. Otherwise, it would create a choppy style. This is also where the art of knowing how to write comes into play.

Understanding how to weave short sentences with longer ones to create a sensible paragraph is an art that only comes with practice.

Another skill for writers is understanding how to use a variety of sentences to write. If you struggle to keep your sentences short, you can take help from Microsoft Word’s spellchecker.

Other spellchecker software also allows you to set a maximum sentence length. If the sentence is too long, it will get marked as a grammatical error. By setting the limit to 25 to 30 words per sentence, you can improve your style significantly.

READ MORE...Become the next great creator | Learn from the legends | mugafi.com

[cuubism]

I've written something very silly. Dating apps, texting fic, crack, smut. desire messing with dream. onlyfans creator hob. trans dream. Enjoy.

--

U up?

The notification from an unfamiliar app stared up at Dream from his locked phone screen. He frowned, perplexed. Nobody texted him. Certainly not with such vernacular.

Dream opened the notification. It pulled up the messaging page of a dating app, one he himself had certainly not installed—

Desire. He grit his teeth. Unfortunately, they weren’t nearby to receive his ire.

Dream looked again at U up? on the message interface. He clicked on the profile of the man who’d sent it, a “Kyle” who would not have looked out of place shotgunning a beer at a rager. Of course, Desire had not only gone to great lengths to establish him on this insipid app, but had also spent time matching him with the exact opposite of his type, presumably to cause him never-ending grief and annoyance. As usual.

Dream should probably have just deleted the app. Instead he responded, For?

What he received in response, a few minutes later, was a poorly-lit photograph of Kyle’s penis. Dream pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger with a sigh. He should have known.

I have seen better, he replied, and closed out of the app.

He had been back at his writing for ten minutes or so when his phone buzzed again. He checked the notification.

Brad: you could be MY good boy, kitty cat 😽

Dream gagged, but opened the man’s profile out of perilous, morbid curiosity.

Brad, 28, Hedge Fund Manager, “Looking for something casual on the DL”, likes golf and cryptocurrency— oh, dear. Somehow, Dream doubted this Brad truly wanted Dream to become a part of his life. Nor did Dream want to be his ‘kitty cat’.

He was going to have words with Desire.

You strike me as a man who brings choking into the bedroom without knowing what a safe word is, he wrote. Am I accurate?

I can choke you if you want, baby 😜, wrote Brad. Which may as well have been a yes.

Dream did not think that Brad was the person he wanted that from. Not to mention that his utter lack of kink safety knowledge would probably land Dream in hospital, and there were more interesting ways for that to happen than mediocre sex in a finance associate’s penthouse.

I would prefer to keep my brain cells, he wrote, and closed the app.

Over the next few days, Dream fielded many strange, annoying, and obscene messages from people on this app. He certainly had not “swiped right” on anybody himself, so he could only assumed Desire had done so on his behalf and had now left him to suffer the consequences of “matching.” By all rights, he should have just deleted the app off his phone. But Dream rarely communicated with anyone, certainly not strangers, and there was something a little bit entertaining about seeing what kind of drivel was being thrown his way. Was this how people attempted to court over the internet? Or perhaps Desire had merely “matched” him with the dregs of humanity.

By the end of the week, Dream had received seven “dick pics”, four offers to share one or more of his body parts in exchange for cash, and a request to become a seventy-five year-old man’s “sugar baby.” He was uncertain precisely what that entailed, but he was fairly certain he would not like it.

He had also received a text from Desire that read, enjoying yourself? ;) to which he did not respond.

His meager entertainment expended, Dream was on the verge of finally deleting the app when he received a different message:

Hob: Do you think it’s possible to cheat death by force of will, or are you too busy craving its sweet release to consider it?

Dream frowned, perplexed by the specificity of the message. Finally it occurred to him to actually look at the profile Desire had made. He swiped over to said screen, and sighed in aggravation.

Desire had, at least, chosen flattering photos of him. He supposed if the goal was to have Dream sexually harassed over the internet, this would have been a requirement. The photos definitely suggested something other than “serious, committed relationship”, but they weren’t terrible, at least.

As for the text—well, Dream finally understood where some of the more unhinged messages he had received had come from. He read through the given prompts, and Desire’s answers to them:

Dating me is like: You found a stray cat and brought it home and fed it and you were going to take it to the animal shelter but now it won't leave. It’s pretty cute if a bit mangy but it won’t stop biting your hand and mewing pathetically. The sex is pretty good tho.

“Pretty good.” Desire had written all this and couldn’t even manage to make Dream sound like a satisfying hookup. Typical.

He read on:

I’ll fall for you if: You tell me I’m a good boy 😳

Things were falling into place in Dream’s mind now.

Hob’s strange message seemed to arise from the main part of Dream’s profile, where Desire had listed his “religion” as “worshipping l’appel du vide.” An interesting element for this “Hob” to focus on. Dream did not think it was typical for messages on these apps to open with a discussion of death.

He switched back over to the messaging page of the app, and replied: I consider death often. As to your query, it depends: are you thinking of death as an entity one could escape, or a force like gravity? Or perhaps a place one must go?

Hmm, Hob responded, good question. I think it’s like a state. But a state of nothingness. See, if I thought it was a *place*, might be willing to go, see something new and all. But what’s the point of nothingness?

Nothingness is its own satisfaction, wrote Dream. It seemed peaceful, to him. Quiet. The lack of need for satisfaction in the first place.

But you won’t be there, so you won’t get to experience it, said Hob.

Precisely.

Huh. The void really is calling to you. You don’t like experience, then?

Is that innuendo? Dream asked.

Could be. If it is, do I get to be part of the toxic codependent relationship that ends horribly for everyone?

Another reference to Desire’s profile choices. What Dream was apparently “looking for in a relationship.”

That depends on the quality of your experience, he wrote.

I’ve received good reviews, said Hob.

You’ve yet to call me “kitten,” so I suppose I must concur on that front, replied Dream.

You started that one, little stray cat, said Hob.

Technically Desire had started it, but Dream had to grudgingly admit that his profile did invite such comments.

Having a smashing time in your dm’s, then? Hob continued.

I have received several unsolicited pictures of genitalia, wrote Dream.

Oh yeah? said Hob. Anything good?

Random strangers’ genitals did not interest Dream. There was a reason he did not watch porn. Mediocre at best, Dream said.

There was a long pause, and Dream hastily added, Do not send me a picture of your dick as comparison.

My dick is already all over the internet, you don’t need to get it here 😛, said Hob.

Dream blinked several times at his phone screen, as if to clear away a fog before a message that might make more sense.

What, he wrote.

Before Hob could reply, it occurred to Dream that perhaps he should actually look at Hob’s own profile. He had gotten too caught up in the strange conversation to remember to do so.

He opened it and— froze.

Dream had already deduced that Desire had intentionally matched him with whoever they thought Dream would be least interested in. He could see why they had thought the same of Hob, primarily because he was very different from Dream. In the past, Dream had tended to have flings with people who were rather like him, in some respects. “Tortured artists,” Death would say.

This was not Hob. For one, unlike Dream’s pouty and morose profile photo, Hob was actually smiling in the first picture on his page. And what a smile.

He was handsome, too. At least, Dream thought so. Handsome in a homey, comfortable way, the type of handsome that suggested really good hugs, and coffee in the mornings, and someone to come home to. Dream scrolled through more photos, and caught the spark of mischief in his eyes that belied his easy nature. This best matched the way Hob spoke in his messages, he thought.

It was not so much that Hob was his usual type, and more that Desire had unintentionally uncovered a type Dream had not known he had. He swallowed hard. Scrolled back up to read the details of Hob’s bio, in search of answers to the strangeness of Hob’s response.

Ah. His profession was listed as “OnlyFans creator.” That would explain it. He supposed he could track down Hob’s profile on said app. Dream was historically not very interested in porn, however. But he was finding himself interested in Hob.

He moved back to the messaging page, and wrote, before Hob could question why Dream was confused about information that was clearly stated in his profile, Ah. I see. I’m afraid I don’t watch porn.

That a moral stance? Bcuz I get enough of that already, trust me.

Personal taste, said Dream.

Prefer to get it in person, eh? said Hob.

Yes.

You’d do numbers on OnlyFans just fyi, Hob wrote. If u ever wanted more cash. Or does Poetry & Malaise pay better than I thought?

Dream’s “career,” according to Desire.

He supposed Hob's comment was flattering, in a way. Is that your own bias, Hob? Or your considered opinion as a professional?

Both ;), said Hob.

If that is your situation, then why are you on this app, dare I ask? Most people I have encountered seem to just be interested in sex but I doubt you are suffering from a dearth of it.

What, porn stars can’t want to get married? :(

Dream could imagine his pout. It was surprisingly endearing.

THAT is why you are here?

Sure, be judgmental about it, mister “I want to get consumed.” Or was that about vore and I misread it as metaphorical?

Dream spluttered, though Hob was not physically present to see it. Indeed, Desire had written that Dream wanted “someone he could consume and be consumed by in turn,” which was surprisingly accurate considering its intention had been to mess with him.

It is not VORE, he wrote. Then followed it up with, I have frequently been accused of being intense, possessive, and overbearing.

Well then we have that in common, Hob replied. By the way, sex for work is not the same as sex with someone you really care about. Or would you feel emotionally fulfilled after fucking your colleagues?

I don’t have colleagues, said Dream.

Right, right. Poetry and malaise.

And have you achieved much emotionally fulfilling sex from this app?

No :(, said Hob.

You are too handsome for that to be the case, wrote Dream, and realized what he had said a moment after he’d hit send.

He panicked internally until Hob replied, And here I thought I was just annoying you 🥰.

I might be having a crisis over your photos myself, Hob added, but let’s not discuss it or I’ll embarrass myself.

We could discuss it in a different venue, Dream wrote, heart in his throat. I am interested also in hearing your plans to thwart death. Perhaps over drinks?

Thought you’d never ask :)

So they set a time.

--

Drinks turned quickly into tumbling into Hob’s flat turned quickly into Hob pushing Dream up against the door and kissing him senseless turned quickly into falling into Hob’s bed. Dream was feeling quite happy about his decision to go on a date with this weird, death-obsessed OnlyFans creator. He had been right about Hob giving good hugs, he had learned that when Hob had greeted him at the bar. He had also learned that Hob really knew how to use his tongue.

“Fuck, Dream,” Hob said, looking up at him, lips wet. He had his hands wrapped around Dream’s thighs and his face between Dream’s legs, and yes, Dream was feeling very satisfied with his decision, indeed. He might even have to send Desire a gift basket. “You taste so good.”

“Your mouth is ungodly,” said Dream, tipping his head back against the pillow with a groan as Hob continued teasing him with that mouth, swiping his tongue through Dream’s folds and sucking on his clit.

“Converted you to a new religion? You’re done with the void, then?”

Dream twisted his hands in Hob’s hair, holding on tight, thighs trembling, heartbeat racing in his throat. “Perhaps.”

“Is Dream your real name, by the way?” Hob asked, pushing one finger into Dream, and then quickly two, as Dream moaned and clenched down on him. “I kind of thought it was fake.”

“No,” said Dream, though it came out as another moan. “It is real.”

“Fascinating.” And he went back to torturing Dream with his mouth, fucking him deep on his fingers, until Dream was squirming and writhing under him, trying to get away from Hob’s relentlessness even as he wanted to throw himself into its fire. He felt hot, feverish, taut all over, Hob’s hands were so good, and his mouth—

“Hob,” he whined, “please.”

Hob paused, looked up at him, lips and nose wet with Dream’s fluids. Then grinned cheekily. “Yes, kitten?”

And why did something that had sounded so revolting coming from anonymous strangers only make Dream laugh when Hob said it? He laughed, a horrible, choking laugh, and Hob laughed too, incredulously. Dream could not remember ever laughing during sex, it had always been a torrid and serious affair. But Hob was so charming and handsome and Dream wanted to kiss him.

“Come,” he commanded, drawing Hob up towards him by his hair, and Hob went, and Dream brought their lips together. Hob’s mouth was slick and tasted of Dream. It was heady.

Dream wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together, and Hob ground his cock between Dream’s legs, between his folds and against his clit. He didn’t try to actually fuck Dream, though, which Dream figured was Hob’s professional good sense considering they hadn’t discussed birth control or anything in that vein in their haste. He imagined what might have happened if he had instead gone home with Brad of the un-negotiated choking kink, and laughed despite himself.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Hob, lifting his head to look at him. He really was so appealing, with his dark eyes, hair falling long over his forehead, his voice that was much more honey-warm than Dream could have imagined over text.

“I was thinking of the catastrophe that would have resulted had I slept with one of the questionable individuals I’ve encountered on that app, and my good fortune in finding you instead.”

Hob smiled, and kissed him, a proper first date type kiss, sweet and kind. Then he said, dragging his hand through Dream’s hair, tugging on it, “Don’t think about anyone else.” He kissed Dream’s jaw, then down his neck, nipping at his skin.

Dream dug his nails into Hob’s back, into his strong shoulders as Hob ground against him. He wished Hob was fucking him. His cock felt so good even just moving between Dream’s legs, and the weight of his body over Dream’s was so grounding. Next time, maybe.

He shivered as Hob moved faster over him, claimed his mouth with a hard kiss. “Come on me,” Dream urged, pulling Hob in tighter again with his leg wrapped around his waist. He reached between them and got his hand around Hob, and Hob groaned.

“Dream—”

Dream pulled him off in time with Hob’s own thrusts, and soon felt Hob’s hips stuttering, his grip tightening in Dream’s hair. He came over Dream’s hand and stomach, breathing hard against Dream’s throat. But he didn’t pause very long to recover himself, instead slipping three fingers back into Dream, making Dream arch against him with a shout.

“Hob!”

Hob worked him mercilessly until Dream was clenching around him with a gasp, body shaking as his orgasm ramped back up and hit him, fast and hard. Hob grinned against his throat as Dream panted, then gently pulled his fingers free and raised his head to look Dream in the eye as he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean of Dream’s spend. Fucking. Hell. And this man couldn’t find someone to marry him?

Hob kissed him again, and again it was sweet, and firm, like his hugs. Dream kissed him back, petting Hob’s hair. Pleased with the position he’d found himself in. Pleased with Hob.

“Good?” Hob asked, stroking a hand up and down his side.

“Very,” Dream sighed.

“Good,” said Hob. “For me, too.”

He kissed Dream’s cheek, and then went and got a soft wet cloth to clean them both up, and even brought Dream a glass of water. Truly Dream’s good fortune was unparalleled on this day.

Hob slipped back into bed beside him, and Dream laid on his side, head pillowed on his arm, gazing at him. Tucked an errant strand of Hob’s hair behind his ear. Ran his fingers over the stubble on Hob’s cheek. He really was quite handsome, especially mussed from sex, in the low bedroom light. Perhaps Dream was going to have to find his OnlyFans. Just so he could… take this home with him.

“You really are even prettier in person,” Hob murmured, studying him. “Although I don’t think the rest of your profile was really doing you justice.”

“That is because my sibling initially created it to annoy me,” Dream admitted. “However, I think I am the one who’s come out on top in the end.”

“That does explain some things,” Hob said with a chuckle. He took Dream’s hand and kissed his fingertips, met his eyes again. “I promise I won’t break your heart. If you stay.”

My BFF’s take on why you should date me, Desire’s profile fills had read: With luck you can be the next person to break his heart <3

Once again, it had not been entirely inaccurate. But perhaps it would be this time.

“I think I am inclined to,” he said quietly, and Hob smiled, that warm, endearing smile.

So Dream did stay that night, cuddled up in Hob’s arms. Feeling all warm inside, even when Hob had fallen asleep, and Dream was still awake, lying beside him. He often had a hard time sleeping, but he didn’t mind so much, right now. Hob was pleasant to cuddle up to, even if Dream couldn’t sleep. Hob was pleasant all around, in fact. Dream tended to fall fast and hard and he could already feel it hovering over him like a cresting wave. Fortunately, Hob didn’t seem inclined to be any more casual about him than Dream was feeling about him.

Dream thought he could get used to this.

With Hob’s arm still wrapped around his waist, Dream swiped his phone off the nightstand and opened his text thread with Desire, which still had enjoying yourself? ;) as the last message, as yet not responded to.

Having made Desire wait for several days already, Dream wrote, with a little smile, I think I am going to get married, and turned off his phone.

[bookofbonbon]

all a lie - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warnings: Abusive relationship. Death. Descriptions of dead person. Spoilers for TBOSBAS.

Summary: Your relationship with Coriolanus Snow was all a lie.

Word Count: 1k+.

A/N: Sad girl hours. I found the angst fic. I HAD TO THROW IN THE DESTIEL LINE HAHAH (please tell me if you catch it - it's very obvious lmao).

Your engagement to Coriolanus Snow was an arranged one. It was no secret. Everyone in Panem knew. History would report that it was a pre-arrangement between best friends and co-creators of The Hunger Games, Crassus Snow and Casca Highbottom.

Details would emerge how when Crassus Snow’s wife birthed a son and Casca Highbottom's wife a daughter, the pair of bestfriends wanted to join their families; intertwining two of Panem’s most influential families for an eternity.

Feature after feature of the upcoming wedding would be written and published; networks broadcasting far and wide for all to see. It was of course, a bonus that the couple were also in love.

The headlines would call it things like fate and true love, and the people of Panem would fall head over heels for it. 

It was all a lie of course. A lie conceived by Coriolanus Snow. The arrangement, the engagement, being in love. None of it was real.

“I chose her also because I hate her,” you’d overheard him one day. A long pause; the drawn out silence broken only by the sound of his haughty laughter. You could hear the smugness in his voice. “She’s perfect.” 

None would know that the arrangement itself was false but you were constantly reminded by those who were privy to the true nature of your relationship with him that you should be grateful. How lucky you were that the noble Coriolanus Snow would honour the wishes of his great father for you after the shame your own brought.

“You should be thanking me,” Coriolanus hissed, face close to yours and his grip tightening around your arm. “Your father damned you. If it weren’t for me, if I didn’t come up with this arrangement for you, you’d be nothing. I saved you. I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

The hardest part was that you were starting to believe it too. Reality and make-believe blurring into one - it was becoming increasingly more difficult to discern what was real from what was not; unsure of right from left, up from down. Everything snatched away from you in a moment's notice and you should be grateful. Everyone in Panem is happy for you but, you.

But, Coriolanus lied about the engagement, he was probably lying about that too. 

Of course, it hadn’t always been this way. There was a time that existed when the two of you were friends, genuinely. Your father’s were friends, the very best and so were the two of you - you think.

In hindsight, you wondered if the downfall was inevitable, given the history; something broke down somewhere, your father’s weren’t particularly cordial in their later years. You had never thought that it would affect the two of you as well but, pinpointing when your own friendship with Coriolanus shifted into other was easy - the beginning of your mentorships for The 10th Annual Hunger Games and over the course of the next two months following that until it was dead… along with you father. 

You groan, loudly and keel forward. 

You press your free hand to your forehead but it doesn’t stop the barrage of images of your father’s lifeless body from coming to mind; slumped over his desk, nose bloody, face blue and a blank stare.

A journal would later be found amongst his belongings when Dr. Gaul and Coriolanus volunteered to clear out his things from the academy; a journal full of the ramblings of a mad, drug-addled man, that damned your father all to hell as a rebel. You were sure it wasn’t his - you couldn’t prove that it wasn’t. 

But one thing that you were certain of in all of that, was that there was only one common denominator - Coriolanus Snow. 

You try not to think about how his resentment for your father grew tenfold between reaping day and your father’s last, festering into something rotten. How this entire arrangement was likely revenge so, he would have you, Casca Highbottom’s daughter under his thumb and locked in his cage for the rest of your life to make up for the years of your father’s torment.

The newspapers would report The Revered Dean Casca Highbottom Succumbs to Morphling Addiction, despite the toxicology report finding traces of rat poison in his system; despite your father divulging that Lucy Gray used rat poison to win, smuggled in by Coriolanus Snow; despite you seeing Coriolanus Snow leaving your father’s classroom just moments before you found his body. 

“Snow lands on top.” you’d watch him taunt your father’s grave on the day your engagement was announced.

Coriolanus Snow was never really your friend.

You think you might be sick.

You remind yourself it’s all hearsay and speculation, the official reports read accidental overdose and you’d push that small voice that told you otherwise further and further into the darkest crevices of your mind because Coriolanus Snow saved you. 

“Darling,” Coriolanus calls, voice mechanical. 

You remain seated with your hand pressed to your forehead for a few seconds longer until it clicks - he’s talking to you. 

Hand sliding down your face, the band of your engagement ring is cool against your warm skin. Your elbow digs into your thigh as you rest your chin on your palm and look up at him  with what you hope appear to be sober eyes and as best of a smile as you could muster, given your current state. 

“The Vickers and Creeds are about to leave, we will see them out.” 

Not a question but a command as he holds his hand out stoically for you to take; eyes swimming with restrained rage - had they always been so cold? Perhaps or perhaps not - not that you particularly cared at the moment, you just wanted everyone to leave. 

If you could’ve, you yourself would’ve left the party a long time ago - a luxury unfortunately, not afforded to guests of honour. Not that you felt like a guest of honour. Quite frankly, nursing a migraine in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other whilst avoiding your guests for the duration of the night was not at all how you imagined your own engagement party to be but, that was exactly how it was.

There’s a familiar burning sensation in your nose, a prickling at the back of your eyes, the feeling of something stuck in your throat. 

You hiccup and something akin to concern flashes in Coriolanus’s eyes but it's gone as quickly as it came - you were probably imagining it.

“Put the glass of champagne down,” he tells you and you do.

You want to laugh- or maybe cry but, instead you take his hand, intertwine your fingers, hold his hand loosely and your jaw tightly and let him lead the way. 

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.

[self-awared]

The Anemo Archon

Genshin SAGAU Imposter Au!

Part 1 <— You are here! Part 2

Trigger warnings: Violence, not proof-read, not well written

Everything hurt.

Your whole body was on fire from running, from being stabbed, from tripping... If there was something that could hurt you, it did.

—

You had no idea why people stared at you with hatred as you entered the city of freedom. You were the Creator, after all.

It wasn't until you were jumped by the Knights of Favonius that you realized what was happening. They screamed at you, calling you an imposter that dared to steal their Creator's face.

You barely escaped with your life.

—

"The wind? What about it?" You spoke curiously as you held a small wind spirit in your hand. Istaroth had named it Barbatos. It had the ability to talk, and had a mind of its own. It had also become quite close to you as you made and molded Teyvat.

"Whenever you're hurt, follow the wind! I'll help you!" The spirit's glee brought a smile to your face.

"Will you, now? Who says I need protecting?" You responded, teasing the small and adorable creature.

"Me! I do! And the wind!" Barbatos's childish nature was nothing new to you. It was always refreshing to hear their giggles and watch them fly around you as you took a break from exploring your creation.

"Very well. The great Barbatos shall be my protector until the end of time!"

—

The memory brought a small smile to your face as you rested in the den of a cave, a squirrel huddled in your lap, a bird perched on your shoulder, and a snake around your neck like a scarf.

You had felt the wind comforting you as you ran from your attackers. The wind blowed past your face and almost pushed you forward, as if trying to get you to run faster before an arrow struck your shoulder.

You had managed to get away from your attackers, deciding to take the advice of an old friend and follow the wind. It led you to a deep cave, one that would provide you with shelter. The animals brought you food. Squirrels brought acorns, rabbits brought leaves and carrots, birds brought worms, snakes brought dead animals... The worms did creep you out though.

You ran a finger over the squirrel's fur, finding comfort in the feeling of something so soft after going through something so harsh. The peace was interrupted by a soft whisper in your ear, making you jump and scaring the animals.

"Seems like you do need the wind's protection after all!"

You were flooded with relief upon hearing the familiar voice of Barbatos, before panicking at the thought that he might believe that you were an imposter.

"Barbatos... You... Do you believe it's me?" Your hands were shaking just as bad as your breathing. It terrified you at the thought of having to flee from a beloved friend—

"Of course not, Your Grace! The wind never lies! And it's certainly not lying about the fact that your attempts at bandaging are quite poor." Barbatos teased as he sat next to you.

"May I?" Barbatos reached out to you, a hand hovering over the makeshift bandage over your shoulder.

You nodded ever so slightly, internally sighing at his normal playful nature.

As Barbatos tended to your numerous wounds—mainly the one on your shoulder—you couldn't help but notice that he looked different from what you remembered.

"Did you get a change of style?" Curiosity plagued your voice.

"I took the form of a friend." Barbatos's smile became rather dim as he spoke softly.

"Oh... I see." You paused. "What happened while I was away...?" You were reluctant in asking, as if afraid of the answer.

"Well, Your Grace... Someone claimed to be you. They fit the description told in the tales, and even the one I remember you looking like. Everyone believed them, and I'm no longer as strong as I used to be." He spoke softly, in a quiet tone, weary of any passersby, even though you were in the depths of a cave.

"So, I played along. I'm trying my best to find out how to get rid of them, I swear on my life, Your Grace." His smile was comforting as he finished tending to your injuries.

"And what should I do?"

[nights-at-crystarium]

As a twitter/tumblr user since 2010-2011, I believe I have sufficient grounds to say that currently we as a community are living through the scariest, shittiest time yet. This post isn’t trying to fearmonger, no I’m not leaving tumblr until it literally keels over, but I suggest that we don’t put all our eggs in one basket.

If twitter/tumblr stay usable, great! In the worse scenario, you’d have kept posting on a new platform and stayed ahead of the curve.

This post shares my personal experience with three potential “new”* fandom places, and is aimed to help fellow content creators. I’m an artist fully depending on internet to survive, my reasoning may not apply to you if you’re a hobbyist. Do your own research, it’s always healthy. * Pillowfort and mastodon have been around for 5+ years, bluesky is ~2 years old.

Discovering new people to follow kinda sucks on all three platforms, twitter and tumblr are eons ahead, but, given the recent chaos and uncertainty, I’m willing to be patient, keep posting on those, and feel safer than I would’ve otherwise been. More baskets good, one basket bad.

All three have poor visual customization, don’t expect custom tumblr themes.

This list starts with the least popular, but most human and easy to join, and what I personally trust the most. All three allow nsfw if labeled properly.

✦ Pillowfort is a barebones tumblr. Intuitive, cozy, but currently very, very small. Be patient with its clunkiness or lack of some features, it’s made by an AO3-like team. I’d personally love if the fandom crowd managed to redirect its attention to it instead of the sus bluesky.

Joining: is free, invite-only, but the waitlist is nearly instant.

Lurk around on their official tumblr: @/pillowfort-social

✦ Mastodon, for me personally, is impossible to explain directly. I’ll use several comparisons.

- Discord but all servers can interact. You’re still on a server curated by some human(s) that might tell you what you can and can’t post, BUT, if you don’t like that server’s policy, you can move to a new one while keeping your followers. - Email, users A and B may be registered on different domains, still they can talk. It’s a weird comparison, but fediverse (please I’m not explaining THAT but it’s a good thing) in general looks like another email story: unlike big sites that come and go, it might stand the test of time. - Someone compared mastodon’s structure to xiv’s dc and servers, if you look at its domain names that way, it might be easier to understand.

Depending on user, mastodon may feel gatekeepy/snowflakey. I haven’t spent enough time on there to form a proper opinion yet, but a warning’s due.

An actually good and hopeful thing about mastodon AND tumblr: the two might start interacting in future. Ever lamented that your fav asian artists don’t use tumblr? If they use misskey, or any other place on the fediverse, it might be possible to follow them directly from tumblr in future, and vice versa.

Joining: is free, however some servers close for new members sometimes, and have human moderators reviewing your request.

✦ Bluesky is a twitter without Musk: today’s average internet user reads this, drops everything and already looks to register there. It’s still sus, but people flock to it like crazy. Most likely to become the next big fandom place in my eyes, even if I’m not happy about that.

I personally have no good feelings about bluesky. Same as twitter, which I hated even before the 2018 tumblr exodus, yet the crowd decided to make it The New Fandom Place, and, grudgingly, I had to give up and also join them in 2022. During the year I haven’t stopped despising twitter, yet, I can’t deny that it helped me survive. I estimate half of my patrons, and, hell, even tumblr audience, comes from twitter. So, if bluesky ends up being the next hot shit, I’ll have to keep up because internet pays for my living.

Joining: is free but hell, invite-only, the waitlist is a lie, your best chance to join is a direct invite.

This’s all I’ve got to say for now. If you have a correction or an addition, replies/reblogs are welcome!

Screenshots of the current interfaces under the cut, you may spy on my profiles o/

Pillowfort

Mastodon.art

Bluesky

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Mora makes Teyvat go round

Self-Aware! BSD x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Self-Aware! Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald x GN! Reader

Description: Ningguang and Pantalone are proud of being of Creator's good side. With power of mora and buisnesses, they will gain more strength, gaining even more favours from Creator to their nations.

Unfortunately, mora is low due to attacks on caravans.

But, this new possible partner, who wants to offer organise trades between nations, peak their interest.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Slight mutilation (non-descriptive). Dehumanisation (Reader called 'it'.

______

Mora is stability.

Mora is power.

Mora is respect.

People need mora to get food, clothes, houses. Everything.

People need mora to build shrines for Creator.

Ningguang and Pantalone use mora to give Creator respect and happiness.

______

Pantalone's eyes twitched.

Another ship was sailed, another caravan was attacked.

And nothing can be done about it.

Dottore tried. And look, where he is now? Went completely mad, tried to kill Creator, and now is locked in a cell.

It became another hit on Snezhnaya's reputation in the eyes of other nations.

And in the eyes of Creator.

Their Holiness, after Dirty Imposter disappeared, were wrecked with sorrow.

Each day, nations brought gifts to the ivory throne.

Each day, people were searching for an Imposter.

Both of these actions were focused on bringing back Creator's smile.

And both actions required mora.

Mora, that Snezhnaya start becoming low.

Pantalone breathe in.

The situation was bad.

Yes, he has enough mora to spoil Creator for the next hundreds of years.

Yet, in this situation, he needs more mora.

Much more.

Pantalone looked at the pile of open letters he had on his table. Offers, coming from different groups. Travelers, mercenary, wanderers.

All of them offered their help in moving goods from nation to nation.

All of them failed.

Pantalone took another unopened letter.

He read through it.

Another offer. And he has no other choice, except it.

__________

Ningguang read through the contract one more time. It was written on a fancy paper with an ornament around the edges. Pantalone, who was sitting next to her, read through his own contract.

Pantalone spoke, looking at possible businesses partner above glasses.

"I must say, Mister Fitzgerald, it's quite an interesting offer."

Blonde businessman smiles politely.

Pantalone cast an interested gaze on the gems, that were laying in the middle of the table.

Gems looked stunning. They looked almost perfect, they varied in sizes.

"Are you sure, that you could transport all the goods safely? You are aware of the situation, right?"

Fitzgerald took one of the gems.

"Mister Pantalone, Miss Ningguang, I assure you, My Team and I are more than capable of doing it. As you can see."

Fitzgerald pointed at the gems. "We have this gems here. From Fontaine. And we did a great job transporting them."

Pantalone and Ningguang looked at each other. Everyone said that. Everyone failed. Ningguang and Pantalone don't have any other choice.

Ningguang spoke.

"True. Let's try to do it. We spent a lot of mora on the Imposter Hunt. All these rewards and mercenaries."

Pantalone chuckled.

"But it was worth it. I even got a precious relic from it."

There were envy in Ningguang's eyes. She also has a little souvenir from the Hunt. Yet, in comparison to Pantalone's, her trophy was simpler.

"Anyway, It's a deal, Mr Fitzgerald."

Both contracts were signed.

Francis broke a tree trunk, when he left Liyue.

Pantalone lost a lot of jewelry because of it.

_______

The first trade was from Liyue to Mondstadt.

If someone saw a new trade caravan, they would think, that they have gone mad.

First, instead of a horse or ox, a white tiger was (somehow) harnessed to the cart. Atsushi chuffed from time to time, but did his job perfectly.

Fitzgerald was walking beside white tiger, looking around. He spoke out loud.

"Look, Weretiger boy, a dangerous monster."

Francis points at the hydro slime, that was more interested in berries, then caravan.

Meanwhile, Francis activated his ability.

"This beast can be defeated only with 100000000 mora punch. Mister Pantalone and Miss Ningguang were so generous, agreeing to give away all their mora, all their possessions to us, right?"

Atsushi scoffed.

Fitzgerald's punch left just a few hydro droplets from the slime.

Somewhere in Snezhnaya, in one of Pantalone's safes, 100000000 disappeared.

"We are saved... Oh, no! Another one!" theatrically gasped Fitzgerald, pointing at lizard, that was staring at the cart.

"This one is more deadly! I must double the effort!"

When the caravan arrived at Mondstadt (Atsushi turned back before someone could notice his tiger form), Ningguang's and Pantalone's safes became more spacious. And Teyvat wildlife get some damage.

______

Fitzgerald's plan was risky, to tell the truth. According to you and books Jouno and others have brought from Teyvat, there was only one language in Teyvat. At least, the only official language. There was no information, if other languages existed. But Francis decided to take this risk.

With some help from Poe, Natsume, Rimbaud and Fyodor, Fitzgerald created an 'ornament'. A synthetic language, that was made from mix of English, French and Russian alphabet and grammar. With Poe's writing, new words looked like an ornament.

The ornament, that proclaims, that person, who sigh the contract, will give away all their money and possessions to Fitzgerald.

And he has a nice little ability to use with new finance help.

_________

Francis stared at what was before him.

He proved, that he can be trusted. And, his businesses 'partners' show them, what their trophy's from the Imposter Hunt were.

_____

Ningguang had four bloodied canines....

****

Dirty Sinner were put in stocks in the middle of Liyue's Harbor. It looked half dead.

It wasn't enough. Tommorow it will be executed. It still have too much dignity.

Rocks, dirt, rotten fruits, manure...

Everything were thrown in Imposter.

It wasn't enough.

Ningguang stare at Imposter.

Its mouth were in blisters.

Its teeth were intact...

A dagger and her fingers weren't the best instruments for a dental practice.

But, Ningguang managed.

*****

And Pantalone had two pinkie fingers in the jar....

*****

It screamed, when its injured feet made contact with snow. Pantalone grinned.

He got a great trophy.

First one, who did it.

Soon, Imposter will lose even more.

Acolytes needs mementos from their great victory.

_______

Fitzgerald saw the mountains of gifts. Gifts for that beast, who ordered to hunt after his treasure.

And he, Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald, must be the one, who delivered it.

Francis can't stay here. In Teyvat.

He needs some real world.

He hopped, that he would reached Lowecraft 'waiting' place, before the sunrise.

_______

Fitzgerald stumbled from the portal, back to their world. He wasn't looking, where he was going. He needs to see you. To make sure, that you aren't in pain.

"What have you learned about, Fitzgerald?" Yosano's voice was sympathetic.

Francis looked at her. She was waiting for his answer.

She was the only one, who knew everything about your injuries.

Before that night, Fitzgerald only knew about burns.

He finally found his voice.

"Teeth... Toes..."

His voice was muffled, when Yosano hugged him, pressing his face to her shoulder.

She let him cry.

________

Pantalone was happy. Fitzgerald did a great job. Trades between nations slowly start anew.

Slowly, mire mora will come to Snezhnaya and his vault. And he will spend it to make Creator happy.

Suddenly, his mansion starts shaking.

The next moment, Pantalone was sitting on the Shezhnaya's snow. His home was nowhere in sight.

_______

In Guyun Stone Forest some of the stone spears, that Morax threw during Archon War, collapsed. Fitzgerald was sure, that crystalfly was a dangerous predator.

________

Ningguang grabbed the table, trying to stay on her feet. She was having a conversation with other Qixing, discussing, what other things they could trade with other nations, to use new mora on gifts for Creator, when half of the pillars in Guyun Stone Forest collapsed. Before anyone could react, a second earthquake came, destroying the rest of the stone pillars.

Outside, people of Liyue saw, how Jade chamber disappeared right before the earthquake.

______

Fitzgerald saw a second crystalfly.

______

Both Ningguang and Pantalone have a headache.

They have lost their houses. And, somehow, almost all mora they owned. There were no sighs of treasure horders or weasel thieves. Both Ningguang and Pantalone knew, how to be careful with spending mora.

Yet, both now have one thousand mora each.

The knock on the door made Pantalone and Ningguang turned their heads towards the exit.

Baisi noticeably flinched. She looked terrified.

"We finished looking through taxes declarations... And..."

Baisi put the documents on the table and left.

In a few moments, two loud shouts were heard.

"WHAT DOES IT MEAN, THAT HALF OF TEYVAT POPULATION BECAME BROKE?!"

______

Spa was quiet. Spa was good.

And this spa was completely yours and Fitzgerald's for today.

Fitzgerald announced, earlier today, that you two will have a self-care day. And 'drag' you here.

You had some sweets prepared for you.p

"Now, try this, Treasure" Fitzgerald put a sweet roll right to your lips. You took a generous bite.

Francis secretly smiles.

All your teeth were intact.

He cast a quick glance to your feet.

Currently, you two enjoyed foot massage.

Francis smiles. Your pinkies were here.

He squeezed your hand.

And promised to himself, to keep you safe and sound. And make sure, that no one will even think about taking something from you as a trophy.

____

Bonus

You raise an eyebrow, looking at all the mora Mark, Steinbeck, Dazai, Anglo, Fyodor and Sigma brought in the house.

You took one of the coins. It glimmered in daylight.

Without looking away from the coin, you asked.

"Okay, I will ask. How?"

Twain looked pleased with himself.

"We rob one of the banks, that belonged to that one, in glasses."

Steinbeck added.

"Fitzgerald won't be the only one, who could rob Mr Pants."

Dazai looked extremely proud.

"Ango and I are scumming people. We put some fake donation boxes. People are glad to spare some mora."

Ango, who was counting mora coins, spoke carefully. He was looking at you, observing your reaction.

"We tell everyone, that this mora will be used for a new shrine."

You didn't need an effort to not flinch. You spent enough time with Hawthorne to stop flinching every time the topic of religion came up.

Fyodor spoke next.

"And Sigma and I created a casino. Cards, some machines with toys for kids. Some prizes are unique and appealing to many. And almost impossible to win. But, as you know, everyone wants to play again."

Sigma shrugged.

"The prizes for everyone were my idea."

You dropped the coin back to the pile. Your mouth moved, before you can think.

"It reminds me of an anecdote. Want to hear it? A funny short story?"

Everyone immediately perked up. They took it as a sign of your recovery. It was good, that you start recalling something funny.

"Okay, [Y/N], we are ready for the story!" Naomi pretend to be impatient.

Well, there is no going back. You cleared your throat and started.

"One day, American man, Japanese man and Russian man decided to have a competition and see, who will make cat eat mustard by its own violation. American man immediately grabbed a jar and force mustard down cat's throat."

"Hey, that's violence!" Russian man objects. “You have failed!”

A Japanese man spread mustard between two pieces of fish and wrapped it in bacon.

“Hey, that's a hoax!” Russian man objects. “You have failed!”

“Well, your turn!” Japanese man and the American man grin.

Russian man, without thinking twice, takes the jar and smears mustard under the cat’s tail. It, of course, immediately starts to lick mustard, trying to get it off. Cat licks and licks, even though she is yowling.

“Do you see that?!” - Russian man rejoices “Voluntarily and with a song!”

"You have an interesting taste in jokes, Myshonok." corners of Fyodor lips slightly raised up. On the background, Nikolai and Pushkin were howling with laughter.

Actually, everyone was at least smirking. Even Natsume look a little bit amused.

Francis scoffed.

He was making sure, that Ningguang and Pantalone will rot in slums.

And, it was a good thing, that no one would be able to help them.

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters

[poorxsouls]

Shadow milk cookie HCs!!༝༚༝༚✮

HC type: character x reader (mainly romantic)

!!︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶!!

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TW: slight spoilers, mentions of stealing/theft, possesivess: (possible and slight yanderisk behavior??), PDA, affection, love, relationships in general(??), slight violence/gore yet mainly tame.

CW: Shadow Milk Cookie, the 5th beast yeast cookie. Created by CRK/cookie run’s creator(s).

Tags: CRK, cookie run kingdom, Shadow Milk Cookie, CRK x reader, CRK x you, cookie run kingdom x reader, cookie run kingdom x you, Shadow Milk Cookie x reader, Shadow Milk Cookie x you, x reader, x you.

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-JesterFace often enjoys giving you attention weather it be PDA or something more light. From hand holding to gripping your palm to the point it feels like it almost rips off, he enjoys every second of it! But, of course, he doesn’t try to go too far most of the time. Shadow milk cookie just enjoy teasing you by tracing his fingers down your chest to your stomach, mostly just being touchy with you.

-Shadow milk Cookie gets easily possessive, often finding excuses to justify his jealousy. Most times he whines about it whenever you scold him, he probably cry if you desire to see that. He normally plays it up, being dramatic about it which is stupidly easy for him to do. Shadow milk cookie had…. Odd hobbies let’s say. For example, he is what one would call a collector….. expect that those “collection”s are actually just stolen/taken as treasures for him to show off.

-Shadow Milk Cookie enjoys affection as much as the next guy, but he’s a bit of a weirdo about it… E.I will have tons of PDA, saying grossly (and maybe gorey) things as compliments, and so on. Speaking of compliments, you’d be surprised to see how poetic and creative he gets to praising you. To calling you dork and to calling you his dove, he doesn’t show his poetry much and mostly comes out of the blue.

-He’s bad, you have to live with that fact. Now, sure, he’s kind and friendly… TO YOU, but to others, he often treats them like toys/puppets which is easy for him to do. Sometimes he even invites you to him watch building burn down in your name, but normally he just goes on simple dates with you that are mostly just picnic and/or tea party dates to gossip with you.

-Shadow Milk Cookie is like a cat: He often doesn’t bother you with his affectionate (unless you beg for it), being generally chill at first, yet craves your attention. Sometimes he even lays on your lap like a cat, curling up to a ball while he (forces)commands you to pet his head. But, currently, he’s become quite the clingy one. You always have him be a step behind you due to him clinging onto you and whining whenever you complain about it, being a general brat.

-In conclusion, Shadow Milk Cookie is a great lover even if he’s an ass to you every now and then. You two can have a either lovey dovey relationship that makes other cringe….., or him being a crazy and possessive lover. Up to you what you want, he’s willing to play any role for you.

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷

-Fin.