#and I KNOW THE WRITERS DID THIS ON PURPOSE

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

lovely weather for a bonfire tonight!! congrats on 5k you beautiful beautiful writer 🫶🏼🫶🏼

can i please get forced proximity with remus 🤭

Thanks for requesting gorgeous!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 874 words

You look up at the sound of movement in the stacks, and you groan when you connect the dots. 

“You’re joking.” 

Remus lifts his brows as slides into the seat across from you, the scar next to his eye stretching with the movement. “You look surprised to see me.” 

“Slughorn told me he’d ‘connect me’ with a tutor.” You roll your eyes, dragging your thumb and forefinger over the feather of your quill so it ruffles. “He didn’t tell me it’d be one of Gryffindor’s golden boys.” 

“He might have suspected you wouldn’t accept the help.” You scoff but don’t deny it, and Remus starts taking books out of his bag, one amber eye on you. “I’m a bit surprised you need tutoring, to be honest.” 

“I barely do,” you say, hating how petulant the lie sounds as soon as it’s out of your mouth. “I just like to stay on top of things. Don’t want to fall behind.” 

He hums, a soft curl to his bottom lip as he sets his books down on the wooden table. “Suppose that’s how you’ve always stayed right on my heels.” 

“I’m going to pass you in charms this year,” you reply reflexively. Then heat rises to your face, because you very well might, but Remus will likely pass you in potions. Though the two of you have been nearly neck-and-neck for marks since you got to Hogwarts, you’ve always been better than him in potions, at least until now. 

Remus must see the shift in your mood. His posture changes, and you hate the gentleness of his tone when he says, “You probably will. So, what are we working on?” 

You huff out a breath. “Um, I’m supposed to be brewing an antidote to this poison Slughorn gave me.” 

“Okay, and what’s the problem?”

You glare at him, but Remus only looks at you steadily. “I don’t know what the poison is, much less how to find the antidote. I’ve memorized every poison in our textbook, and it doesn’t seem like any of them.” 

“It may not be in the book,” he says, voice lower and far less sharp than yours. “Do you have it with you?” 

You dig in your bag, retrieving the small vial of liquid. It’s clear but thick, a sludge that sticks to the edges of the glass when you try to swirl it. Remus takes it from you. 

“It’s not about knowing what the poison is so much as what’s in it.” He removes the stopper, sniffing tentatively at the semi-liquid stuff inside. “Once you can figure out some of the key ingredients, you can use other ingredients to nullify those in your antidote.” He holds it out a few inches from your nose. “Smell.” 

You lean directly over it and breathe in, and instantly, instinctively, recoil back into your seat. You feel your face scrunch up, throat convulsing in a gag. 

“Fuck,” you choke out, “is that how it kills you?” 

Remus chuckles, and the sound tickles down your spine like a grazing touch. 

“You did that on purpose,” you accuse. 

“It wasn’t on purpose, but it was entertaining.” 

“Dick.” 

He grins. It’s an effort not to return it. “How did it smell?” 

“Rank. As if you don’t know.” 

Remus’ grin worsens. “I mean what did it smell like, love.” 

“Oh.” You ignore the way your heart stutters at the endearment, slipped in at the end of his statement like it’s automatic. “Um, kinda like piss? But mustier.” 

“Good.” Your tutor’s voice is coaxing. He leans his elbows on the table, his eyes on yours. “What common ingredient in poisons does that remind you of?” 

The realization must show on your face, because Remus’ lips twist upwards before you even speak. “Hemlock,” you breathe. 

“There you are,” he says, nearly as quietly. “And what is the easiest ingredient to counteract hemlock with?” 

“Bezoar.” You tilt your head back, covering your face with your hands. Remus laughs again, and you hear him stoppering the vial. “I can’t believe I’ve spent all week agonizing over this, and it was that simple. I just need to make a potion with bezoar?” 

“And preferably a few other things to counteract the less fatal side effects, but yeah.” You lower your hands and Remus is giving you a knowing look, almost proud, as he passes you back the vial. “See, you managed it.” 

“Thank you,” you tell him sincerely. 

“I think you’re getting too in your head about needing to memorize everything,” he says, propping his chin on a hand. And he looks nice like this. Boyish, like someone you could honestly enjoy talking to. His hair pushes up above his ear. “You’re a hard worker, but you need to give yourself some credit for your intuition, too. You knew what the poison was once you let yourself think about it, you were just too focused on the facts to get there without help.” 

“You shouldn’t be telling me this.” You feel a smile tugging at your lips. “I’m just going to use the knowledge to beat you out in potions and everything else, you know. Being nice to me doesn’t get you a free pass.” 

Remus’ eyes crackle with challenge. “Wouldn’t expect any different.”

[insipid-drivel]

Warhorses: Which horses are actually good candidates, anyway?

This post is in honor of @warrioreowynofrohan, who asked the question in the comments under my guide, "Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap". Their question, "Given what you said about too much weight breaking a horse’s spine, how did that work with knights in plate armour?" is one I'm going to try to answer here, since the answer can be very nuanced depending on where and when you're talking about.

Also, while I was a stable hand for years as well as a rider, I never had the opportunity to directly learn more ancient styles of tacking, horse training, and combat, so I don't have any direct experience to draw from with regard to horses used for military purposes. I'm still gonna do my best here with what I know, and research what I don't.

As I've covered in the past, large horses (draft horses) make less-than-ideal warhorses, and so do carriage horses like the elegant and dramatic Friesians.

Let's begin by addressing this from the perspective of creative writing. For you writers and content creators out there, an essential part to the continuity of any historically-themed work you do involving horses will be depicting breeds of horses that didn't exist before a certain time in history. I'm going to approach this question from the stance of, "Medieval-type era warhorses". Horses were used in warfare as late was World War II, but actual horses you ride into battle with knights and archers and bannermen? We actually have to drop the subject of specific modern breeds altogether aside from using them for comparisons.

When discussing warhorses, various cultures have approached them differently. Some cultures will value a specific type of horse above all others, such as the Mongolian Steppe Horse or the American Mustang. Other cultures, which may be from biomes and territories where multiple types of horses are needed for different forms of warfare and tactics, value whichever horses can get their jobs done without their riders getting killed.

Carrying vs. Pulling:

Horses have been used in warfare since as far back as 4000 BC, but their first applications were more as chariot horses. Humans have been riding and working with horses since before we even had stirrups to more easily ride them with! As archaeologists and anthropologists make more discoveries, the more we learn that we humans have been working closely with horses since before we had specialized tools to ride them with. The very first warhorses pulled chariots or carts, which is much easier for a horse's anatomy to handle compared to carrying a heavy weight like an armored rider on their backs, which puts stress directly on their spines where they have very little supporting muscle for supporting a lot of heavy downward weight.

Warhorse Size Categories:

Really, any breed of horse can apply to a niche in warfare if it's needed enough. Even very small, delicate horses have had their place in the history of human combat! Before I continue, it's important to know that there's a unique unit of measuring a horse's height. Rather than measuring a horse's height in centimeters or inches, they're measured in units called "hands". A single "hand" = ~4 inches/10.16cm, and a horse's height is measured based upon the distance between the bottom of their hoof to the tallest part of their shoulders, just at the base of the back of their necks. We don't actually include neck length/head height in a horse's measurements with traditional measuring.

Another rule of thumb: The average horse cannot safely carry anything heavier than about 30% of their total body weight. This is a serious factor to take into mind when deciding on a type of or breed of horse for a mounted warrior of any kind: You need to factor in the OC's starting body weight, and then add on the weight of armor, weapons, and any armor the horse itself may wear along with the weight of its tack.

Light-Weight Horses:

A few examples of lightweight horse breeds whose ancestors have historically been used in combat are Arabians, Barber Horses, and the magnificent Akhal-Teke. Lightweight and delicately-boned horses like those are best applied for military maneuvers that require precision, speed, and endurance, and the rider themselves should specialize in some form of combat or reconnaissance that doesn't require them to wear heavy metal or laminated armors. Archers are good candidates for riding smaller horses, or lightly-armored swordsmen like an Ottoman Janissary.

Central-Asian and North African horses also benefit from having a higher tolerance for hot climates. They can absolutely suffer from heatstroke and cardiac arrest from being forced to run and work in extreme temperatures and should always be provided with the same protective measures in a heatwave as any other horse, but they have a little bit of an edge over horses descended from freezing and temperate climates.

Medium-Weight Horses:

Medium-weight horses started showing up in the archaeological record around about the Iron Age, where chariot warfare was becoming an increasingly utilized form of mobile combat, and people needed bigger, stronger horses capable of pulling heavier loads - such as a chariot with two passengers rather than just one. As cultures began to develop heavier-duty armors made of metals and laminated materials, it also became important to breed horses that were tall and stocky (muscular and with relatively short spines compared to their height), and therefore more capable of carrying riders in increasingly heavy armor. Medium-weight horses were also essential at the dawn of the gunpowder age when the cannon came into use in siege warfare for pulling the heavy, iron cannons into position.

Medium-weight horses are really where we see the beginnings of knights and other warrior classes on horseback come into the forefront of warfare. When you have a horse that's big and strong enough to carry heavier armor and heavier weapons along with a rider wielding them, you have a much deadlier force at your disposal. Strikes from a sword or spear from the back of a galloping horse basically results in a sword capable of cutting through enemy soldiers like a hot knife through butter.

Important Note: Traditionally, cavalrymen wield blunt swords when attacking from a charging horse's back. When a horse is charging at full speed, the sharpness of a blade becomes less important than the blade's ability to stay in one piece when it impacts hard armor and bone. A blunted edge basically turns a cavalryman's sword into a thin club that's better at holding up against smashing through multiple layers of armor and bone compared to a thinner, more delicate sharpened edge that can shatter from a high-speed impact.

Heavy-Weight Horses:

The direct ancestors of modern draft horses, such as the Shire Horse, only began to appear around about the beginning of the European Medieval Era, and were far and away not even close to the enormous sizes of the draft horses we have today. Any horse counts as a "Heavy-weight" classed horse if its weight exceeds 1500lbs/680kgs.

Heavy-weight horses were really more bred for pulling enormous weights rather than carrying knights. While yeah, there is some evidence that suggests that heavy-weight horses were used by heavily-armored knights, historians argue a lot about whether it was a rule or an exception (such as with Henry VIII, who continued to ride well after he had begun to weigh more than 350lbs/158kgs, and even went to war in France in his final years on horseback). Generally speaking, medium-weight horses tend to be the right balance of agile and strong for carrying someone that's going to actively be fighting. Heavy-weight horses were bred to be a lot more tolerant to the chaos and frightening stimulation of the sounds of battle, but medium-weighted horses generally tended to be more suited to moving efficiently through dense packs of soldiers and weaving around other horses.

Ponies:

While actually being the smallest class of warhorse, ponies were essential when it came to carrying cargo and working as pack-horses. In certain forms of terrain, such as mountains, large horses pulling big carts full of supplies or soldiers could often be extremely impractical. In situations where an army needed to move on foot and form a narrow line in order to travel, ponies were able to traverse much narrower and rougher terrain while carrying smaller loads to their destination, when heavier horses would struggle more under their own weight and dexterity.

Europe-Specific Terminologies:

If you're a writer reading this and writing a piece set in the European Medieval age, there are specific terms used for the different classes I listed of warhorses above that I'm gonna list:

Destriers: The Destrier was a universal term for the iconic knight-carrying, jousting horse. They were also sometimes referred to as "Great Horses" due to their reputations in combat settings. Destriers could have just about any appearance, but were rarely taller than 15.2 hands, or 62inches/157cm. They were capable of carrying heavily-armored knights (although knights in full plate mail rarely rode into battle and stayed on the horse the entire time - they tended to specialize at grouping up and killing a lot of footsoldiers swarming them at once and preventing breaks in defenses from being overwhelmed by an oncoming army; in the case of Edward the Black Prince, we have substantial evidence in the form of his surviving brigandine that a mounted soldier or knight was more likely to wear chainmail and brigandine with a tabard on their body with their arms, feet, and heads the most heavily armored in plate when they intended to fight on horseback, making them a little lighter and more maneuverable, but I may be waaay off base there because I'm thinking of more of Italian soldiers who used full plate and how they applied it in battle more than any other example) and wearing armor themselves.

Interestingly, the sex of a destrier was often chosen strategically. Stallions (horses that haven't been neutered) are more aggressive, and could both act as combatants on their own if their knight was dismounted or killed, but could give away an army's location if they were attempting to move stealthily. Stallions whinny and shriek a lot when they're horny or arguing with each other, which is most of the time.

Mares were often chosen by Muslim armies for being much less vocal, and therefore much more capable of stealth. Geldings (neutered males) were the preferred mounts of the Teutonic Knights, a Catholic military group, since they couldn't be stolen and used to breed more horses for the enemy army.

Coursers:

Coursers were the most common Medieval European warhorse. It's important to remember that in Medieval Europe, most armies were almost entirely comprised of common men - serfs subject to the will of their landlords, not far removed from slaves in many ways - who couldn't afford the highly-prized and expensive Destriers. Coursers were usually a bit lighter than Destriers, but were still strong enough to carry someone wearing armor. Coursers were also a little more utilitarian, because they were also sometimes used in hunting as well as warfare, so they had a valuable use outside of warfare that the owner could benefit from.

Rouncey:

A rouncey was an all-purpose horse that could be used for leisure and travel-riding as well as be trained for war. They were a lot more likely to be found on the farm of a serf or independent farmer of some kind, as they could fill a lot of different roles depending on what they were needed for. Their sizes weren't really important as much as their ability to get the job done.

It's also critical to remember that, when talking about warhorses, we're usually talking about eras long past. In general, thanks to resource availability and incredible advances in medicine, modern humans are significantly taller, and therefore heavier, than people from the European Medieval era and prior. While fatness was valued in many cultures for its suggestion of wealth, most working-class and serf-class people worked intensely physically-demanding daily lives just to maintain their own homes. They were a few inches shorter on average than we are today, had greater fluctuations in body fat distribution depending on how harsh or bountiful the harvest season had been and the season in which a war was taking place (the average person's weight would swing by 30lbs or more on average every year prior to the industrial era), and cavalry were usually chosen based upon skill in the saddle as well as physical size when considering the application of medium or heavy armor being placed on the horse's back and body.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Through Panes of Glass

Summary: A mission in an alternate timeline brings Loki face to face with a relic from his past. Against better judgment, he finds himself seeking out one far more dear.

Word Count: 1,435

Pairing: Loki x Sigyn

A/N: So after months of writer's block and worsening mental health struggles, I suddenly got really inspired yesterday to write something based on "I Look In People's Windows." It's a really quick little thing, and I'm not sure if it will appeal to anyone but myself, but it feels incredibly good to have written something. Also, while this is technically series flavored, it really has nothing to do with it-- I just really liked the concept of Loki being in an alternate timeline, and the details of how and why he ended up there weren't very important to me.

Thank you so much for reading!!

Warnings: Grief/loss

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4 @theredrenard @justdontmindmetm @lostgreekgod @naterson

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

He found himself looking in windows.

A shameful act, he knew, but he tried to push through the abashment by telling himself that if the mortals cared about their privacy, they wouldn’t be living out their lives so readily in front of unobstructed glass. No, the houses on this street were all alight with life, the curtains drawn all the way back. It seemed as though it was meant to be.

He glanced through another and locked eyes with an elderly woman huddled in her chair beneath a cocoon of blankets, fixing him with a scowl as deep as the lines on her face. Loki whipped his gaze back to the pavement, cheeks burning as he hurried along.

He was wasting time. They had come to this timeline with a purpose, and that purpose was certainly not leering through windows with the hope of catching sight of a ghost. He was late to the rendezvous point as it was – it was only a matter of time before they sent someone looking for him. Loki knew this. And yet he kept going.

This wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t met Fandral at that bar. It had startled him out of his laser focus – he understood the concept of variants, of course, but he hadn’t expected to find relics of his past here on Midgard, so far away from where they existed in his mind. But there he was: cozying up on the counter, his arms around a woman’s shoulders, that same Fandral smirk tickling his lips beneath his mustache as he whispered something against her skin that made her giggle. It was all so familiar.

Loki’s mind had gone blank. He forgot all sense of protocol, nearly calling out Fandral’s name out of some stunned instinct, but thankfully his partner had held him back with a sharp whisper.

“Different timeline, remember?”

And it was. This Fandral was not the one Loki knew from childhood – this was a mortal man, who spent his days tucked away in some florescent cubicled labyrinth and his nights skulking through the city in a fruitless search for stimulation, before dragging his weary bones back to his overpriced studio apartment to start the whole thing anew in the morning. Seeing him here meant nothing.

Except, if Fandral’s variant was in this city, could that mean …?

He didn’t let himself finish the thought. It was silly, he told himself, even as he continued flittering down the sidewalk like a moth in search of light. Absolutely ridiculous. One Asgardian-turned Midgardian variant didn’t guarantee that there would be another. And even if it did, even in the off chance that he did find her, what would he do once he had? She wouldn’t know him – it wouldn’t even be her, just some person with her face and name, none of her memories, none of her soul. What could he do but stare at her like some sort of lunatic?

But you’d see her, whispered a small voice in the back of his mind, you’d get to see her again.

Loki swallowed. The last time he saw her – it had been before the Bifrost. How many lifetimes had he lived since then? So much of his memory from that time had turned gray and hazy, but she still glowed when he pictured her, swathed in the gentlest blue, her chestnut curls soft beneath his chin as she pressed her cheek to his collarbone. She smelled of the forest, fresh and free and forever unfettered, but she bound herself to him with her embrace. He took her hand in his and cherished the way her ring pressed against his palm, warm with the heat of her body.  

Was it a memory, or perhaps only a dream? He huffed – a dream would hurt less. She had died after his fall. Some sort of illness – they all told him it was unrelated, but Loki knew in his heart that he had killed her. He had sworn to live out the rest of his life at her side, but instead he abandoned her to the wolves of his demons, left her to face the fallout alone.

No wonder the void hadn’t the mercy to kill him.

There was another house coming up, another window – a busy one, if the cars jammed into the driveway were anything to go by. Sure enough, he found a party behind the glass, and a fancy one at that, the air abuzz with wine glasses clinking and the elegant swish of long evening dresses. He could feel the warm hum of their laughter, trickling out even into this starless night. Loki gazed at each face that passed before him, praying for some hint of familiarity, but they were all strangers to him.

And that’s what she would be to him, he realized. Nothing but a stranger. Perhaps she had been so changed by this timeline that he wouldn’t know her face even if he were to come across it.

Loki sighed. The signpost designating the end of the street grew nearer and nearer. He had wasted nearly an hour now on this little side mission, and all he had to show for it was a newly potent ache in his chest. He needed to get to the rendezvous point. Enough shadow-chasing.

It was the house on the corner. He told himself it was the last one, he’d give himself this one last attempt and then he’d move on. He didn’t expect to see her.

But then he saw her.

Loki froze – truly froze. He couldn’t have run even if all the realms were chasing after him.

It was her.

Hunched over a sink, scrubbing at a skillet with a yellow sponge, dark curls tied up behind a blue bandanna, glaring down at her work with the same steadfast ferocity he remembered so vividly from sparring pits of his youth — it was her!

He breathed her name, whispered it like a prayer as he took the smallest step forward. The tip of his boot grazed her front lawn, but he barely noticed. She … she was beautiful. His eyes burned, then misted over, a garbled cry falling from his lips. She was there. She was moving, she was breathing, she was right there just behind the glass—

And then she looked up, and their eyes met.

His breath caught in his throat. He should have hurried away, should have left before she had the chance to catch a glimpse of him, but he felt rooted to the pavement, held captive by the power of her stare. Oh those eyes — how many nights had he dreamed of swimming in the amber pools of her eyes once more? He remembered her laying against him at night, the way he’d cup her head to kiss over each eyelid as she pulled him in closer and let out the sweetest sigh ever heard. For one beautiful moment, he looked into her eyes, and it was like coming home.

But then the moment passed. There was no recognition in her gaze, no warm smile or sweet relief. No, her brow only furrowed in confusion, head cocked as she studied this stranger gawking at her through her window, and the spell was broken. She might as well have doused him in ice water.

Because wish as he might, it wasn’t really her.

Loki stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. What was he doing here? What must this woman think of him? How could he explain that he was leering at her through the glass because she looked like someone he once loved? What was it to her? His wife was dead. What did it matter that he had found her doppelgänger?

He whipped back towards the street. The rendezvous point. That’s where his focus should be, not on some dark Midgardian street chasing after nonexistent ghosts. Imbecile. He forced himself forward, forced his eyes on the pavement before him and not at the light he was leaving behind, biting through his cheek until he tasted blood.

…

She stood at the window a bit longer, frowning at the man’s silhouette as he disappeared around the corner of the street. Really, she should have been more unnerved – someone watching her from the window, that sounded like something out of a stalker story, didn’t it? – but there was something about him, the stunned disbelief in his eyes, the way he went running off like a frightened rabbit …

“Sigyn?” Her boyfriend stuck his head through the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “There was some guy staring at me.”

[casterisks]

and yet…

…a trace of the true self

…exists in the false self…

certified 2012 classic because someone actually found it

[sun-marie]

BG3 has two of the most thoughtful, unapologetic, no holds barred depictions of men with abusive female partners I've every seen (Wyll + Mizora and Gale + Mystra), which is so rare to see in any media but especially video games, and some of the Larian writers seem determined to convince me it was 100% by accident

[iwasbored777]

Couldn't help but notice how Miles sees Gwen as an angel...and in the movie she kinda has the halo effect going on.

This is adorable, but also this art from Miles' sketchbook that Damian Fernandez Gomez shared on Insta (I think it was the artist who worked on the movie) has one specific page where the details around Gwen's sketch intentionally looks like a crown.

So it's either a halo or a crown. It's beautiful. I bet that sketch was inspired by that comic book cover in that first image you sent.

Now I'll pay more attention in every frame, I'll try to find more of these details.

And also that last picture it's not from his pov it's from Peter's but even then she has a "halo". Now maybe I'm overthinking cuz it's late here but maybe they gave her a halo cuz she is the kind of a person he thinks she is cuz she's over there recruiting friends to help her find and save him, she's like his real guardian angel so they gave her a halo. It's really cool to think about it now. The prophecy has been fulfilled.

Thank you for sharing this 😍

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

You know, I'm glad that some of us take the step to embrace things that we like even if they're "cringe" or "objectively bad"

But perhaps we could take the next step forward and embrace the idea of reading into books/shows/movies/etc even if they don't seem deep. Perhaps we could understand that the two kinds of media aren't either "shallow and meaningless so you're weird and brainrotted to read into it" or "incredibly and profoundly deep in every way so if you don't analyze every single angle of the thing then you're brainrotted". Some media is deeper than others, but all I propose is that no matter how deep it seems it's acceptable to dig into the thing and take the media seriously instead of just assuming that because of ____ thing (such as target audience or how cringe it is) the media not deep and will never be deep and everything good about it happened on accident.

[makeoutstopcrime]

the rookie dropping that Isabel promo for an ep THREE WEEKS AWAY directly after that cute as shit chenford ending scene

[aeolianblues]

Writing is so awesome. I had things on my mind. I sat with them and an open document for an hour. Feel like I've puked it all out. Now I can go pack and eat dinner. Free therapy

[vulpinesaint]

i don't talk about alucard castlevania very often because the last season of castlevania was so bad to me that i just don't engage with the show anymore like that but make no mistake. i have many thoughts and opinions on that man.

[alchemiclee]

been looking in tags for a few days now to see if anyone else found the whole high cloud quintet and related story to be a bit.....poorly written, nonsensical, contradictory, full of plot holes and loose ends, etc. apparently i'm not the only one. (and i'm not even talking about shipping stuff, because any time I saw someone mad about bad writing, someone always replies to be homophobic and laugh about failed ships. weirdos.) it could have been so good but was thrown into the garbage for the most part (IF you noticed all the plot holes and contradiction. if not, then it's a fine enough story tbh. I expect most people to see it on surface level and not read all the little hidden lore bits and try to piece it together like my autistic brain did. which is ok! enjoy it if you liked it and ignore me 😆)

[b-dwolf]

everyone pointing out the eddieana parallels with buddie but let’s not forget the fact eddie wore a suit to go meet ana’s family for the first time…. and then eddie’s comment to buck when he asks if it’s a mob establishment and how it’s “a different kind of family” .

[artsyjesseblue]

I feel sorry for the poor soul at DW who had to draw over Lotor in this scene. Studio Mir's style is not as easy as it looks, LOL.

Who has the pointier chin?

I’ll let the pics do the talk.

(OK, giving u some hints- no 1: in VLD there are different degrees of pointiness for each visage. There's a certain angle to their V-shaped chins, and it varies from one character to another - Allura, Pidge, Lance, Lotor, Keith etc.)

(Hint no 2: Compare the pink and the blue outlines)

In conclusion...

If anything, mommy here probably says "You deserved better".

[bearseungmin]

BEARSEUNGMIN'S FAREWELL POST [ ! ]

the time has come for me leave this blog </3 I've loved most everything I've written here, and I am forever grateful for this experience. idk what is in skz fanfic writer's water but it is pure talent because I have met some of the coolest and most insanely good writers just from writing here. I seriously hope y'all get actual stuff published in the future because holy fuck don't keep posting such good works to wandering eyes who don't even understand that reblogs are how this site works LMAO.

I'll be around for a little while longer (hopefully long enough to catch everyone's spooky season activities & events), but this blog will eventually become inactive over time. I'll reblog and queue as I can. my planned series and recs lists have been discontinued rip. I'm not deactivating this blog any time soon so feel free to keep reading my stuff + going through my recs and to read tag!!!

& special thanks to everyone who made my dumbass clicking into tumblr to post my own fanfics completely worth it. really wishing the best for all of you and hope you all know that you have something so special that I can't even put into words—but you can create so much from letters that it's beautiful. take care, and please feel free to send me an ask or dm if you want any of my other blog urls or socials to keep in contact!

please show these writers as much love and support as possible. they've created a community here that is so much fun to be a part of, whether you are reading or writing, and it got me (and I'm sure many others) through a lot. follow, leave feedback, & reblog their content since I won't be here to!

amazing people & writers btw — @lixesque @aliceu @cb97percent @etherealinowrites @linoguistics @petrichor-han @lotus-dly @hyuneater @abiaswreck @neo-shitty @hyunee1 @decembermoonskz @yyxgin @sulfurcosmos @dom--minnie @sleepylixie @huenjin @binniesthighs @ohmysparkle @feliix @quokkacore @stayndays @formidxble @linothinker @hhjs @seungisms @ballelino @noramoons @dreamescapeswriting @chaninfused @blossom-hwa @chogiwow @mostlycompetentwriter @seungmoe @planetdream @crispy-chan @seo--changbin @matryosika @jl-micasea-fics @seungmoomin <3 love you guys <3

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[sxlphie]

To be honest, I don't want an FFVIII remake. The junction system was special, and the likelihood of it surviving the current gaming generation is small. Plus, I just think they would totally butcher it. I like FFVII remake, but it's a sequel that plays on defying what we know of FFVII as a collosal pop culture piece; I therefore feel that any heavy retconning they would do for VIII would merely be scrubbing away at anything that made the original have charm.

I also just don't agree that the only way to preserve a game's legacy is through remakes. I appreciate FFVIII for what it is, and so long as it remains accessible to play then I think it's completely fine.

[welcometogrouchland]

I think the disconnect between canon Belos and (a certain genre of) fanon Belos is that in canon he is pathetic (in the dramatic sense) not sympathetic.