#mun stuffs

[amar-hiyar-majhe]

Guys.. I am really very much excited about MUN I have always wanted to take part in MUN but I don't know how it works and what we need to do there...

Some say that its kind of like a debate some say that is a discussion which turns into a debate.. But what do the participants of MUN do..

Please my lovely mutuals help me out by explaining What is MUN..

[sunsblaze]

Get to know the Mun

What's your phone wallpaper: Offical art of daddy (Shinjuro) Rengoku from when he was a slayer Last movie: I don't watch tv but my friend made me watch Phantom of the Opera What are you wearing: Black dress pants and a red shirt with a lace collar! Piercings /Tattoos: I don't wear them but I have my ears and septum pierced! I have two very small tattoos of a heart on my hand and a crown on my chest! Glasses /Contacts or both? I wear blue light glasses for migraines! Last thing you ate: chickem samich Favorite color(s): burgundy, dark green, and just any earthy colors Current Obsession: looks at Rengoku shrine Do you have a crush? fictional men with long hair XD Favorite fictional character? Yoriichi obv., Senjuro, Koku/Michi, Snufkin (Moominvalley), and my OC Atlas! Tagged by: @uppermoonkoku

Tagging: @shinjuro-rengoku-ask, @cursetopia

[ofdraiocht]

Munday thing

Tag nine people you want to get to know better  

Favorite color(s): Blues, reds and blacks.

Favorite flavor(s): Spicy! I like spicy flavors.

Favorite genre(s): Fantasy

Favorite music:  I don’t think I have a favorite? I like what I like

Favorite movie(s): King Arthur Legend of the Sword

Favorite series: Book: The entire Riyria series. Games: Kingdom Hearts. Anime: too many to pick from lmao

Last song: Queen of Kings: Alessandra

Last movie: Antman and the Wasp Quantimania 

Currently watching: Buddy Daddies. Yakuza’s guide to babysitting. Youtube streamers

Currently working on: I am hopping across three accounts while playing with resin.

Tagged by: @roleplay-abiogenesis2​

Tagging: I am sleepy. Tag yourself!

[thenextchapterbegins]

OH ALSO

now that the event is over or winding down or over

like other events this event will become permenant lore within my canon since this has been building since i introduced blitz’es story

so from forward i will be a using new tag for blitz that fits his themeatic upgrade and status rather well. 

im still in the meat of thinking up his territory, what is going to happen to his business, etc, etc, etc. but for now baby steps.

[splatoon-confession-box]

They won't give me the bookmarks, so i'll do it myself

[charliesheartstopper]

Carlos Cuevas as Alex

S01E04 Smiley

[atruehiro]

"Wow. Brag much?"

BIG HERO 6: THE SERIES 2.04 - Something's Fishy

[splatoonusna]

If you enjoy my updates here, I do have a Kofi if you'd like to Support Me and I also do Commissions if you're interested :3

[kiekiecarrera]

sense8 meme -  [9/10] scenes

“It seems that what this plan needs is a Trojan Horse.“

[lordgrimwing]

Circa early TA 2500

Celebrían loves her star-dust husband. 

She’d loved him since she first saw him—or felt something special at least, even if it had taken her a few years to realize the depth of those feelings. She hadn’t said anything at first, of course; neither had he, though it wasn’t long into their courtship before he admitted (blushing and so sweetly shy for someone nearly four hundred years her senior) as much to her. She’d stayed silent at first because she thought it was a youthful fancy, something she would forget after a few months of knowing and working beside him, and later because he was her mother’s dear friend and Galadriel certainly would not approve (she’d been wrong on that last point, at least once her mother got used to the idea). Now, there was nothing stopping her from sharing her love every day, every moment.

He had an ageless kind of quality about him. His agelessness went beyond the classical elven beauty that went unchanged by time as the centuries rolled ever onward. At first, she was hard pressed to describe precisely what that meant. After so many years of watching how his body changed with the passing time in a way no elf’s ever would, she found the words: he was ageless as the constellations; ageless as the stars that shone before the sun and the moon, before the Trees or the Lamps; ageless as Ilúvatar’s Music.

And sometimes, the divine shines through.

***

Celebrían and Elrond are in bed; she is sitting, sketching the crescent moon as it sails toward the far end of the hidden valley while he sleeps beside her. The short summer night is a few hours away from drawing the nocturnal orchestra to a close, and she listens as the sounds of birds and insects shifts toward diurnal patterns. Her charcoal whispers as she drags it softly over the linen page, filling in the last details.

She has many pages filled with drawings like this one. She never grows tired of the view across Imladris from her bed, and she likes to have a little something to keep er hands occupied on nights when she wishes to stay with her husband but has no need of sleep herself. She will show him the sketch when he wakes and tell him all about the pair of bats that play-chased each other outside while she worked.

The mattress shifts. Her hand stills as she looks over at Elrond.

He is still asleep, dark hair pooled around his head. Stars blink in his hair, weaving in and out of existence with each breath as they are so want to do these days when he cannot be troubled to hide them (it hadn’t been like that when they married. Back then, if he did not choose to share his light then it stayed hidden under his skin for the most part, and when he came to Ereinion’s court, he could not choose one way or the other, it merely happened—sometimes at very inopportune moments, which she wishes she could have seen). He sighs in his sleep and twitches.

She watches. Mannish sleep is cyclical, she’s learned, guessing he is entering the phase when his body can move but is not ready to wake up yet. She spent many nights charting the peculiar cycle and knows it well. He should wake in about an hour, perhaps an hour and a half if they are lucky. His sleep had been troubled as of late, and she’d hoped her presence would deter whatever half-forgotten memories were plaguing his rest. She sooths the back of her hand across his forehead as his breath speeds up, brushing their fëar together as she does to share the calmness of her spirit.

He seems to settle after that. For a minute, she thinks that is the end of it, that all will stay calm until he wakes, rested and happy.

Celebrían should know better by now than to tempt Doom, but she is ever optimistic.

A minute draws into two draws into five. She turns back to her drawing, picking up the charcoal stick.

A twitch of his arm and a shiver against her fëa are the only warnings before Elrond is struggling back into wakefulness, gasping like one half-drowned and fighting against the sheets to escape their confines.

Art entirely discarded, she turns back to him, pulling the bed cover down as he blinks, unfocused and shaking. Light pours from behind star-strewn eyes, leaks from the lines in his skin as he sits up. Fireflies flash in each ragged exhale. In the panicked moments between sleep and full consciousness, his elven veneer is thin and brittle.

“Elrond,” she murmurs to him. When she reaches for him, she finds his fëa has completely retreated behind thorny defenses thicker than any briar growing in Middle-earth. She doesn’t touch him yet; his heart is beating like that of a panicked deer, and she may only startle him further. “Peace, Elrond. Peace. I am here.”

Words and spirit infused with all the calm assurance and love she could pour into them, she let her presence wash over him, gentle and safe.

“Celebrían?” The whispered word comes out of his mouth half broken on a sob and repeats off the walls as though they are in a cavern. He reaches out blindly for her.

She takes his hands in hers. “Yes, love, I’m here. We are in Imladris. All is well.”

He repeats her name as he cries. Relief so thick it’s almost cloying fills the space around them. She tries to hug him, but he grips her hands tighter to stop her from moving them away from his. Instead, she rests her chin on his head, tucking him against her as she murmurs sweet nothing to him until he calms. Stars prick her skin like forgotten needles.

“Was it Sight?” She asked at last when he’d dried his face and was no longer leaking light like it would all burst out of him at any moment.

“A nightmare,” he says firmly, resolutely. He repeats the words again with a shudder.

“Of the children?”

It isn’t uncommon when Elladan and Elrohir went off traveling, as they were now, for Elrond’s sleeping mind to mix the twins into his memories of things that had or might have happened to his own twin brother and himself in war-torn Beleriand. Arwen, too, is not spared from his terrors. The great evils of that time are long banished, but that detail is easily forgotten in the throes of a nightmare.

“Orcs,” he shudders but tells her no more.

She refrains from pushing him. She knows he will tell her more if needed to rid himself of the last of the dream. She strokes his stary hair as they sit entwined, waiting for the sun to rise.

[buchreihe]

( . . . ) this is the story of 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐍, a loner with a heavy australian accent who suffers from sleep paralysis every single night after reading evil spirits out of a horror novel so he prefers to stay awake as long as possible, living his life out of a coffee mug in the middle of nowhere brisbane.

❝ In books I meet the DEAD as if they were alive, in books I see what is yet to come . . . All things decay and pass with time . . . All fame would fall victim to oblivion if god had not given mortal men the book to aid them. ❞

A librarian more used to reading stories than living in them, Nathan would be an unlikely candidate for hero in any book. But even discounting the power of his voice, Nathan is a formidable foe. Though he might not have many combat skills, Nate is more than willing to learn, and he refuses to be cowed by the dangers he's fallen into. Also called “ Silvertongue ” because of his ability to make characters come alive by reading them out of books - to "paint pictures in the air with his voice" - although he has been wary of this gift.

𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 : night terrors, regretting every decision he ever made, being able to read people and objects out of books, the fear of being forgotten, realising that the church lied, paranormal events, staying awake for several days and isolation.⠀⠀ ⸻

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐃

[sailorjisunq]

[misteria247]

I just realized something.

12 Leo from what I remember in canon has cried like four times.

He cried when his father died the first time.

He cried when his father died the second time.

He cried during that nightmare where he'd watched his little brothers be brutally slaughtered.

And then he cried during the Mutant Apocalypse when the mutagen bomb was gonna go off and he had shoved his brothers away to safety.

This leads me to believe that 12 Leo isn't much of a crier. It probably takes a lot to make him cry and break down fully because he's either always bottling it up inside or he doesn't want to appear weak in front of his brothers. But that just makes him crying that much more impactful because seeing this strong and confident leader break down into tears is a heart shattering sight.

And I'm betting that because 12 Leo doesn't cry often his brothers get extremely protective and hostile whenever they see him in tears. Like I'm talking about full on "Who did it???? Who made you cry?!?!? TELL ME WHO DID IT SO I CAN BEAT THEIR ASS INTO NEXT YEAR-" kind of ordeal. Because if 12 Leo's crying then they know damn well that something is up and they'd be out for blood.

[surrogate-fawn]

Lying naked and recumbant on your bed like a renaissance painting after orgasm is a form of self-care.

[charliesheartstopper]

Carlos Cuevas as Alex

S01E08 Smiley

[atruehiro]

"Hang on. I've got something that might help."

Baymax! (2022)