#try to have it queue based

[wehowl-arch2]

I'm considering refreshing my multi (maybe moving it to a new blog) and adding tara wylde from wylde flowers (fc being hai/lee steinfeld mayhaps) and maybe westley also from wylde flowers, once I learn more about him...

[elodieunderglass]

And one amang, an Iyrysch man,

Uppone his hoby swyftly ran…

WAIT HANG ON - slamming the brakes on drawing this stupid picture - do you nerds even KNOW the etymology of the word “hobby”? The thing you do for pleasure? The thing you have too many of? The thing you spend too much money on and share with your friends? The thing tumblr probably is to you? Those hobbies?

It comes from a now-kind-of-extinct breed of Irish pony-horse. It was called the Irish Hobby. Supposedly the hobby got its name from the Gaelic word obann, or swift. They definitely were. They’d obann your pants clean off.

Fast tough little bastards, built for rough terrain and renowned for their speed and stamina, hobby horses belonged to the Celts, and their highly annoying style of mounted warfare. but their conquerors liked hobby horses a lot, kept them, used them for themselves, and found them useful enough, despite the fact that they also had famously useful things like mounted knights or horse archers. A lightweight Irish warrior, mounted on a hobby horse, was called a hobelar.

Reportedly and in depictions, hobelars rode without stirrups. Or saddles. Or bridles. Or - well - this is all sounding very improbable, because the hobelars COULDNT have just been charging around basically bare-assed on naked ponies, screaming, and somehow in the process undoing the composure of actual mounted armoured knights. Knights who, I remind you, had stirrups. Stirrups are useful! It’s quite likely the hobelars had some gear. And clothes. and weapons. And the ponies probably had some tack - I am picturing a bellyband that you could at least hang a saddlebag on, and a neck rope for catching the bloody thing, even if not a saddle. But the overall impression, somehow created by people on darling little ponies, was apparently quite striking and fearful.

I mean. God Forbid People Have Hobbies.

Anyway after a while, whatever people became the British had eventually conquered all of the rough terrain that hobbies were best at, and horse archers just got sexier, and mounted knights became aristos, and all the bog and forest people had been subdued, so it was time to sunset the hobelars. but WAIT! Hobby horses are still tremendously fun and appealing! They’re so fast! and you can ride them without a saddle! Sure, they’re not up to the weight of a mounted knight, or indeed a lot of guys… but surely we can still find a use for a hobby or two? In the back garden? Somewhere?

At which point an English king decided to keep hobby horses just for fun. No military application. No further development of the technology. Not for fun. Just as expensive, pleasurable, pets. Just for the joy of the thing.

And that is how hobby (activity done purely for pleasure) comes from hobby horse (small horse) possibly from obann (swift.) they’re very interesting and you should look all this up for yourself! because it sure sounds like Elodie doing a bit, doesn’t it?

Today, Irish Hobbies are functionally nonexistent. References for drawing include the Kerry Bog Pony, the Connemara, and (I personally think) Dartmoors and Exmoors. They’re said to have lent their speed to the Irish Hunter/Sport Horse and from there to the Thoroughbred, but every damn horse in the world claims relation to the Thoroughbred, and they can’t be THAT thoroughly bred.

At any rate - you can never have enough hobbies. Just be glad that yours aren’t expensive beasts with minds of their own, eating their heads off in the pasture! …Unless they are. In which case, you’re part of a proud tradition.

[pizza-game-posting]

[brokenmagxc]

x. just a reminder: to make sure i am making time for my irl responsibilities, health, friendships, and hobbies, i am going to be forcing myself to use the queue more and schedule all replies moving forward ( save for when i have #BME aka big muse energy ). right now my queue runs 3-5 posts a day. just wanted to give my mutuals the heads up !! this does not change my openness for new threads and writing partners, just wanted to put more realistic expectations on my time here. though that being said, please feel free to DM me if you want my discord even if we haven't talked yet — i will be doing much more chatting, plotting, and casual writing there to fill up my brain throughout the day when i get small breaks from irl. otherwise, have a lovely rest of the day, i'll see ya when i see ya around !!

[quinn-pop]

yet another oc that only exists because i wanted to write something very specific

(middle is a little older, hence her scar healing. i like to think she gets a glass eye at some point)

anyway this is mira! (they/she) since that wip is almost 20k words and counting i won’t give away too much but long story short she’s the result of meta going “one last time, i promise” and adopting yet another kid

also galaxia kinda indirectly picked the name :)

i’ve mentioned before that i headcanon that pretty much all astrals are autistic and this is just kinda an extension of that. whereas meta tends to suppress his emotions and conform to others, mira…doesn’t. she gets uncomfortable and upset and lashes out at people easily, and working through their emotions is no small task.

the main reason i chose to write them that way was for the sake of narrative but i’ve grown attached to it because there’s a lot of ideas there i’d like to explore. stuff about navigating emotions and relationships when existing is so suffocatingly uncomfortable. it’s not something i could center around Kirby himself, but i think it makes sense with a post character development meta knight.

they are very loved (omg oldee cameo???)

kirby was definitely very excited to have younger siblings after being used to being the youngest in the room for so long!! (with the like. one and only exception being gooey.) he’s super affectionate with both of them and wants to have a close relationship one day, but for now mira is pretty unappreciative of that fact lol. they don’t like being pestered for hugs

everyone else is okay tho

(i know that’s hard to read. oops. “obvious bite marks”. siblings being siblings.)

mira also has a very love/hate relationship with the egg kid, being so close in age they kinda Have to get along but in typical sibling nature they also fight a lot. sure it’s probably rough for a while but i think in the end they’d be good buddies. maybe not as close as Kirby and Bandee but still.

anyway i have a lot of thoughts and am very busy but. i’m really enjoying writing about all this lately it’s been fun ^^

[utilitycaster]

Queueing to make it clear this isn't a one-time thing or vagueing a specific person and more an irritating trend, but: if you have speculation or a personal wish for a story, that is always totally cool and you can and should post about it to your heart's content but it is pretty irritating to post it on other people's theory posts unless you can construct a logical argument and relate it back to their theory.

You want to see a guest character return? Okay, pitch me how this is related to my post, and why it would make particular sense within the story. You think a ship is going to happen? Great, say something other than "Um, I have eyes" on my post if you want to reply to me. You think this campaign is going to go on until level 20? Do you have an argument other than "I want it to?" Then give it, otherwise this would really be better suited to you making your own post.

You don't need an argument in your own post! I think it's wise to have one if you have any interest in convincing other people (and indeed, I tend to find that if there's a lot of MAN WOULDN'T IT BE COOL evidence- and argument-free posts in the tag for something I wasn't already inclined to like, it will make me feel more unfavorable towards it), but if you're posting for yourself and not to make a point you can and should just say what you want! You do need one when you're shoving it onto mine though because now I'm going to get all the people responding to you and I don't want them. Also when people do this and I don't care for their theory I tend to hide the reblog, or I just make the post nonrebloggable if it takes off and I'm sufficiently annoyed, and now no one can see or respond to the theory because they didn't write your own post and I'm in control! Writing your own posts is great! Please, if you are not directly responding to the content of an original post but rather going off on your own tangent, make your own post instead of getting on theirs.

[salemoleander]

Reminder that Jstor lets you access 100 academic articles/book excerpts/journals (I believe per month) for free!! If you like a topic or a novel or a type of art, I guarantee there's some really kickass essays on that topic sitting there waiting to be read

And that's not even getting into the many many open access journals and books, which don't even count towards your total!!

[fingertipsmp3]

Things that happened in my sims game today that ✨just make sense✨

-My sim went on a date with his stalker

[therighthandofvengeance]

[pressagie]

ORGANIC & FRESH FORTUNES?!

Leave me a question to be answered through divination (for free).

INSTRUCTIONS AND HOUSEKEEPING BELOW

I prefer that you use the ask feature, unless you feel uncomfortable because your topic is too personal, in which case, feel free to message me instead.

You can be anonymous and as vague or specific as you want (which might reflect on the answer) and request a simpler or more complex reading.

Even though I'll choose the deck (from Lenormand, Oracle, Tarot, and Archetypes) depending on which suits your question better, tell me if you have a preference or are curious about one, and I'll be sure to take that into account.

You may also opt for bibliomancy (with Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There) and/or shufflemancy (using my Spotify library), complementary to the cartomancy, or without it.

This is a way for me to practice my divinatory skills. Unfortunately, I don't have a lot of free time, and the readings do take a while to come out — so keep that in mind :]

* No medical, legal or financial advice.

** Leave some kind of ID. (Astrology stuff works but is not necessary; I don't study it.)

*** Content warnings are very appreciated.

About how I read:

I believe that divination is not just getting to know a future set in stone, but that it can be a way to make sense of what feels bigger than us, and even learn how to play with it.

Your reading won't say “this is definitely going to happen to you”; it'll be more along the lines of understanding your circumstances and what will most probably happen if you keep on that path, or choose another one, and how to go about it. It's all about freewill and helping get some perspective and the power to accept or change it.

With that said, I will also never tell you that “you control your reality 100%”, “everything in your life is manifested by your thoughts”, or similar bullshit. We don't live in a perfect world with a fair socioeconomical system where everyone has the same opportunities, and such harmful and ableist ideas are not welcome in this space.

[If you want to know more about these or other aspects of my belief system, how I read, my methods etc: I'm open to talking/posting about it, and I plan on it when I have the time.]

Readings are tagged OMEN DEAL.

Everything else is under #NOT AN OMEN.

The featured tags include the types of divination too.

The avatar, header, and image on this post are paintings by Elioth Gruner, respectfully called Spring Frost, Morning Light and Summer Morning.

[inquirics]

having a busy day today, i'll be in and out working on the 20+ drafts i have, hopefully i can queue them all and shoot some of them out throughout the day !! let me know if you want me to prioritise posting yours !!

EDIT: show my new test muse some love (fuel my lauren/van obsession) and check out my open starter ??

[bluecatdraws]

Ogg compilation! This is my lovely dwarvic bard, who hates fighting and loves playing bagpipes loudly at inconvenient times, like in battle when she ought to be swinging her handaxe at something. She's an absolute blast to play, but the campaign I made her for went kaput after 2 sessions so she's shelved right now until I can find another suitable campaign to pull her out for.

[reflections-of-mobius]

Shadow had been ready to stand, to act- but Volt and Harmony were up first. Pain flared in his side, a warning flashing to life across his vision- bright blue. Glitched, too unstable to read before it vanished. And then it was back again.

HP: 65,000/100,000.

........what.

The man- Walters, based on Shadow's low growl- at least had the presence of enough self-preservation to step back, hands raised in a universal sign of surrender.

"Alright. I can tell you're all upset-"

"Doesn't begin t'cover it..." They couldn't see Walters around Volt and Harmony. But that growl was nearly enough to fluff their fur, the blinking lights...thank God those two weren't against them. What the Hell was Volt capable of, that he could do ten times more damage than Harmony?

"-I am just trying to take Shadow home."

"That chamber wasn't a home." He wasn't about to go back. No, that had been a holding cell- and he'd never be returning. Not unless his heart had stopped beating.

"Fine. But that doesn't change that you can't all be in public. Any of you could scare all of humanity-"

"Ex-human here, Cedar Iso from fuckin' Green Hills, Montana. Wasn't scared'a Volt when he popped up in my house- n' th' staff here weren't worried until you showed up, dear." Every ounce of southern hate they had was thrown into that single word. Another screen- their name,...their species... It disappeared as quickly as it came.

They didn't need that right now.

"Wh...?" At least he could look stunned- though in the flickering light, there was a noticeable red gleam from outside- a low rumbling, steadily growing louder.

Not a word was spoken as quills slowly raised- energy dancing. Company, more than the hedgehog wanted. In a flash, he had appeared in front of the other guests- yelps filling the space before they were all unceremoniously dragged to the kitchen in the back, and then he was back- incoming. No warning to offer, nothing but him running to try to knock his three allies down as the front of the café exploded.

Another nod, this time in answer to Shadow's question. At the same time as Cedar. Neither hybrid had held any ill will for their sudden drop into the world. Volt really did believe that there had to be a good reason they were brought there. There had to be a reason the Warp Ring from his late companion brought them and disappeared.

Maybe there was something to it, but he couldn't focus on it for too long.

"If we do it at your place. We'll do it outside. Trust me. Blowing out a coat and then brushing it, can make another one o' her." Volt played it off as much as he could. Although his own body had grown tense at the approaching footsteps, he tried to ignore it to finish their conversation before they'd be rudely interrupted.

"Ya mind?" Which Harmony was more than happy to point out as the man approached their table. "We're tryin' t' have a drink and some snacks."

The closer the man got, the more Volt's hands flexed. Claws fully extended, the tips causing gouges into the table where he almost had formed a fist. It seemed that all four of them were on the same page. Harmony bared her teeth at Walters for even thinking it was a smart idea to call Shadow a project.

Volt, on the other hand, had stood up. There was no warning to the growl that rose from his chest. The noise spoke of a promise if the man made even one more step closer.

"You can insist all you want, but you touch him. Touch ANY of us, and I will personally remove your hand and shove it through your chest." Violet eyes flashed dangerously, and the lights around them flickered. Each time the cafe was nearly bathed in darkness, the glow of the hybrid's eyes clearly could be seen locked on Walters.

"And ya call him a project again, and I'll donkey kick ya 'cross the street." Harmony added as she also stood up to stand beside her father. They'd purposely put themselves between Walters and the two still seated.

"You want him. Ya go through us, and you've already seen what my daughter can do. I can be ten times worse..."

[backtothefanfiction]

Joaquin Torres x Stark!Reader | Grumpy x Sunshine

Summary: Joaquin and Sam take a trip to the Stark cabin to get something fixed on Joaquin’s suit.

Warnings: fluff, grief, angst, banter

Word Count: 2.6k+

A/N: Okay so I this is based on an ask that came through my inbox. I did make a couple adjustments, but over all the bones are the same. Hope people enjoy!

Joaquin always felt awkward when Sam dragged him out to the Stark cabin for a fix on their suits. Although he had never met Tony Stark himself, the Avenger was someone everyone knew and his loss was still felt all around the world. But the Stark cabin always felt like the nucleus of that grief. More importantly, the shed out back.

"I'm gonna head in and say hey to Pepper," Sam said as they made their way side by side down the path through the woods that lead to the old hunting cabin that had been turned into the Stark's main home during the blip.

"Okay, well I'm gonna- head-" Joaquin's voice trailed off as Sam made a left and began to head up the stairs to the front door, suddenly leaving him on his own, "to- the- uh shed I guess," he muttered to himself much quieter, looking between the cabin and the shed where he knew you would be.

He hesitated at the door to the shed. He knew you'd be in there, you practically lived in there since your Dad died. He knew it was bad for you to isolate yourself the way you did, throwing yourself into continuing his work as a way to manage your grief, but he also felt like he was invading your sanctuary whenever he stopped by.

"YO, FEATHERS! YOU GONNA STAND OUT THERE ALL DAY OR YOU GONNA COME IN!" Your voice called out to him and he took that as his queue to enter.

"How did you know I was out there?" he asked as he strutted in, his eyes scanning the space as he sought you out amongst the converted lab you and your Dad had built together during the blip. The two of you hadn't been too close before then, your Mom wanting you to keep your distance from the man she had accidentally conceived a child with during a drunken one night stand in her 20s, but when she became a victim of Thanos and the blip, you had no choice but to seek refuge with him.

"Cameras," you said, lifting a tablet in the air that showed a video feed of the front door and Joaquin used it as a marker to find you amongst the mess.

"You know I don't have feathers right?" he said as he approached the bench where you were huddled over a piece of tech, a soldering iron in hand as you fused different components together.

"And you two could literally go to anyone else at Stark Industries to fix your suites and yet, here you are." you said sarcastically as you finally met his eyes.

Joaquin took one look at the dark circles under your eyes and his heart ached. He hated to see you like this. He had developed a crush on you the first time he had met you. It was a couple years ago now. He had been brought in with Sam and Bucky for the debrief with Colonel Rhodes after the incident with the flag smashers. You had stopped by to have dinner with your Father's old best friend, turning up in a red floral sun dress and denim jacket and he had instantly fallen in love- not that he'd ever had the balls to tell you.

“You haven’t been sleeping.” Joaquin stated, his voice soft, but you hated the tone of pity that accompanied it. It was coming up to the anniversary of your Father's death and your dreams had been plagued with flash backs to the battle where you had watched him lose his life.

“Well thanks Captain Obvious.” you snapped at him resentfully.

As long as he'd known you, Joaquin knew your usual jaded demeanour and hostility was due to your inability to deal with your grief over your Dad, but he also knew this extra spiciness to your tone was due to the aforementioned lack of sleep. “You know I was never actually a captain.” he said, trying to lighten the mood, but it didn't help.

“Okay, then Lieutenant Obvious. Better?” You sassed as you forcefully turned him around to get to the access panel on the back of the wings.

“Remind me again why you’ve got to do this with the suit on me.”

“It’s so you can fly away the second I’m done and stop- annoying-me,” you grunted as you popped the panel. “Uuuhgg, this is a mess. Who the hell has been fiddling with this thing?” you asked, taking in the hazard of wires and switch boards inside.

“The US governement.” Joaquin laughed.

“That sounds about right," you gritted as you took your soldering iron from before and began adjusting and readjusting wires.

As you worked, Joaquin took a moment to look around the room again. There were empty cups, mugs and plates discarded in different places as you had refuelled on the go. The sofa in the corner had a blanket haphazardly draped across it, implying that when you had been sleeping, it had been in here and not in the house with Pepper and your half sister Morgan. It broke his heart.

"Y/N-" he said your name tentatively, wanting to broach the subject and help, but also not wanting you to completely shut down and shut him out and hate him forever.

"Don't." you said, reading his mind without having to look directly at his face as you focused on your current job. "There," you sighed, "try that." you said as you closed the panel again and sat back.

Joaquin turned around, shifting in his suit, his arms lifting as he prepared to let loose the wings at his back. "NOT IN HERE MORON!" you quickly said, fear rippling through you at the thought of the nano tech wings unfolding at his back and smashing into the machinery set up around the two of you. "Take it outside."

"Uh, yeah. Right." Joaquin stuttered nervously as he realised his mistake.

You reluctantly followed him outside for his test flight and was met with the sight of your younger sister running down the steps of the cabin and over to you both. "JOAQUIN!" the young girl beamed, taking him in. She for sure had a little school girl crush on him. And to be fair, you couldn’t blame her, he was good looking, you just weren’t interested in anything right now.

"Hey Kiddo!" he said, embracing her as she ran into his arms to greet him with a hug. "Your sister's just fixed my wing up. Wanna see?"

"Yeah! Of course!" she beamed and the way she smiled made you see all of the same awe and wonder in her eyes as your Father used to have. The look sent a new wave of grief to hit you and you had to turn away from her for a moment to compose yourself. It was so quick you had hoped neither of them had noticed, but when you looked back to Joaquin, it was clear to you he had.

"Well, go on then. Get this over with so I can go back to work." you said, folding your arms across your chest as you encouraged him to let his wings free.

His eyes seemed to linger on you for a moment, trying to find a way to penetrate your armour before he finally conceded. There was a click and a rippling schwing of metal as his wings unfurled seamlessly at his back, shorter at first, but then he pressed another button in the gloves of his suit and the nanobots shifted and extended the wings down to make them larger.

"Oooooooh," Morgan cooed in wonder as she took them in.

"Come on then feathers, you gonna fly or what?" you encouraged him. He sighed in your direction, but ultimately activated his helmet and thrusters and dramatically blasted off from the floor at such a force you and Morgan had to steady yourselves as you were hit with a blast of air.

You both watched from the ground as he began to do a sweep around the property, Morgan running down to the lakes edge to watch him closer as he dipped down to run a finger through the water as he glided above it. You stood there for another minute, watching to make sure there weren't any more problems, but when he started to show off, doing barrel rolls through the air to impress Morgan, you knew it was your cue to return to your work.

“You know, you should be a lot nicer to him,” Pepper’s voice startled you. You hadn’t noticed her when you first came in, but at the sound of her voice, you quickly found her collecting up some of your plates and mugs, ready to take them back into the cabin.

You didn’t respond to her, your body turning back to your work as you pretended like she wasn’t there. You didn’t want the lecture right now. Although she had married your Father and had technically become your step mom, not to mention she was your half sister’s actual mother, Pepper had always felt more like an Aunt to you. She had all the same maternal energy and instincts towards you, but she was more approachable like a friend.

“You know, I invited them to stay for dinner,” she said as she came up beside you. “We’re having cheeseburgers, in honour of your Dad.” she continued, trying to get any sort of reaction out of you, but you weren’t biting. “You know,” she said, after another pause, deciding to change tac, “I think he likes you.”

“What makes you say that?” you said instinctively and you instantly kicked yourself for responding, but you could feel the swell of pride coming off Pepper as she realised she had gotten you to break.

“Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” she said wistfully, her eyes looking out the open doorway towards the sounds of her daughter’s giggles as she played with Joaquin. “And no matter how mean you are to him, he keeps coming back.”

“Is that what happened with you and my Dad?” You asked, fishing for information about the origins of their relationship.

“Not quite. Me and your Dad were… a little more complicated. Your dad was always a lone wolf, but he,” she said, her gaze moving to the man outside again, “he’s more of a golden retriever. He may be a bit goofy and over enthusiastic at times,” she said, before turning her attention back to you, “but he’s loyal. And he knows how to have fun,” she stressed as she nudged your shoulder. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the way you needed to take a break from your Father’s legacy and just learn to let loose again.

You went back to giving her the silent treatment as she shifted the cups and plates in her hands again and went to leave. But as she reached the door, the small voice in the back of your head (you often liked to think was actually your Father living rent free in your brain), told you she was right.

“Pepper!” you called out to stop her. “Thanks.” you said, giving her the first smile that had graced your face all week. She didn’t say anything more back, just gave you an equally fond smile of acknowledgment. After all, Pepper Potts knew she had already said everything she needed to, to finally get you back out of the shed.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Nearly two hours later, you finally made your way up to the cabin for dinner. The sound of laughter and the sizzling sounds and smell of the burgers was almost overwhelming after spending a week alone out in the shed, but you quickly shook it off. Both Sam and Joaquin turned their heads at the sound of the door, but quickly became distracted again by your sister. She was stood in the middle of the living room giving a rather animated account to them of an incident that had happened to her at school. You couldn’t help but smile at the way she captivated them as you snuck through the house to the kitchen.

“Can I help with anything?” you quietly asked.

Pepper turned and gave you a smile. You watched as her eyes scanned you. You had changed since she had left you and even taken the time to run a brush through your hair. You could tell there was something hidden in her gaze, knew she was eager to tease you over it, but she quickly dropped it, not wanting to scare you off after finally being able to coax you back in.

“I’m almost done,” she said, “the burgers will just be another minute or two. Why don’t you lay up the table, ready for everyone.”

You didn’t give her a verbal response, instead headed straight to the draw to retrieve the cutlery and placemats. “Let me help you with that.” Joaquin’s voice came from behind you. You turned your head with a start. You hadn’t even heard him follow you in.

“Uh, thanks,” you said quietly as he took the handful of cutlery from you and followed you to the dining table.

You were both silent as you began to put down the placemats, Joaquin following close behind you and laying down the cutlery. When you had finished that, he followed you back to the kitchen to help carry in the salad and condiments, which you laid out in the middle of the table so people could help themselves.

“I’m sorry- uh I mean, earlier, this afternoon. Thank you for uh,” Your voice froze. Gosh this was awful. You desperately wanted to bridge the gap you had placed between the two of you, but you didn’t know how. “I’m sorry I was a dick!” you finally blurted out.

He let out a little snicker at your outburst, but quickly schooled his features, knowing you were trying to have a serious conversation. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“I know, it just… I know I can be a bit…”

“Hostile?” He said, filling in the word you were struggling with.

“Yeah. Hostile.” you repeated.

“It’s okay. I know you don’t mean it. It’s not easy losing a parent. It’s not easy losing anyone.” he corrected himself. “Grief makes us do odd things sometimes. Just know that you’re not alone. Okay?”

“Okay.” your repeated.

“I’m here for you. Come rain or shine. Night or day. You don’t have to do this on your own.”

“I know,” you sighed, your head hanging, almost in shame. “I’ve just… never really been that good at asking for…”

“Help?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Look,” he said, and you watched at he reached into his back pocket for his wallet and pulled out a bit of paper with his number on it. You hated to think how long he’d had it sat in there just waiting for the right moment to give it to you. “This is my number. Call me whenever.”

You took it from him and couldn’t help the small smile that danced on your lips as your fingers played with the piece of paper you had been handed. “Even in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep?” you asked him, both earnestly, but with a hint of suggestiveness you hoped he’d pick up on.

He was silent a moment as he analysed you. Wanting to check and make sure you had meant to imply what you had. When he realised you had, he hung his head in an attempt to hide the blush in his cheeks and the shit eating grin that adorned his face. “Yeah,” he sighed, finally looking back up across the table at you, an entirely new kind of tension between you now, “especially then,” he said and you knew that was one offer of help you were never going to turn down.

[purlty23]

Have you had Nazi propaganda blazed onto your dashboard? Me too.

Its no secret that Tumblr doesn't give a damn about its user base. It's been made abundantly clear to me that not only do they not care. Tumblr is allowing posts with direct links to nazi propaganda and chatroom sites to be blazed!

The only reason I found this post? Because Tumblr put it in front of my face on my dashboard.

In the notes of this post there were dozens of reblogs with things like "is this an ARG?" "Oh whats this, save for later". One comment that said "tempting".

This is a neo nazi trying to recruit you.

Report this immediately. Do not click links. Email support@tumblr.com telling them that you don't want neo nazis paying them to show us this garbage.

If you want to know how I figured out what this was in more detail, I'll put it under a read more so that everyone can be a little safer and a little smarter out there.

First: I went to the persons blog.

This one in particular is clever enough to have an ask about palestinian donations as their first post. The second is the one screenshot above.

I kept scrolling. Most are youtube links posted with 0 notes or interaction. This is another link to the same site here.

If you scroll far enough, you'll see they've reblogged an original post.

If you directly copy and paste this text into google, you'll find exactly one result. A PDF in Bulgarian hosted on a website named aobg.org.

Sounds legit, right?

Its the official website for the Bulgarian Society of Anthroposophy. A 'new age spiritual movement based on German idealism'. A cult.

As soon as I made the connection, I knew that clicking the original link would lead me to something similar. I felt confident enough to click it safely (DO NOT TRY AT HOME), and was launched into the shittiest little pro Nazi website with a live chatroom on the side.

There are always signs, always queues. Do not be stupid out there. These are NOT ARGs. If you aren't sure, block and move on.

[rileyslibrary]

It’s lunchtime at the military base, and you can’t decide what to eat. Ghost is getting hangry.

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“It’s a simple question,” he says. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know, Lieutenant.”

“Are you hungry?” He asks and lifts his hands.

“Yes, sir.”

“What exactly are you hungry for?”

“I-I don’t know.”

He drops his arms to his sides and sits at the corner of his desk. He touches the back of his neck with one hand while supporting himself with the other.

“Every fucking day, you do this to me,” he murmurs. “If you don’t decide this time, I’ll go eat alone.”

“Oh! Is that so?” You squint and hunch forward at your desk.

“Yes!” He yells as he stands up and walks towards you. “Yes, I will. In fact, I would love to.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and your jaw drops. How dare he? You’d been teammates for years, sticking with him through thick and thin, never betraying him once. But now he...

“...Would love to?!”

“That’s right!” He snaps and slams his hands against your desk. “So, for the last time: What. Will. It. Be?”

You lean back in your chair and bite your pen while considering your options. Ghost’s gaze darts from you to the pen, then back. He groans and grabs the pen from your hand, tossing it to the side.

“Pens are off the menu today,” he declares, snapping his fingers, “I need an answer. Now.”

Dumfounded, you stare at the pen on the floor. If someone else had done this to you, you would have slapped them in the face. Worse, if he had watched anyone else treat you that way, he would have ripped their limbs off their body.

But he’s hangry. As insignificant as this conversation appears, he doesn’t handle his hunger with the same poise he handles other, more complex situations. Not only that, but your indecisiveness doesn’t help, either. You need to make a decision quickly, so you sit up straight and place your hands on the table.

“What are my options again?” you ask.

“Pizza or burger.” He replies sternly.

“I don’t want piz—”

“Burger it is, then,” he says with a nod. He knocks his knuckles twice on the desk and strides towards the office door.

“W-wait, Ghost, wait!”

He sighs and leans against the door, his hand on the handle.

“I don’t like the base’s burgers.” You mumble.

“Nobody likes the base’s burgers!” he yells. “But we still eat them!”

“I was wondering,” you say and lower your voice, “if there is another choice?”

He’s softly bashing his head against the door, and you try to persuade him that there should be a third option—a vegetarian meal, perhaps. In response, he begins making whimpering noises. He’s the one getting on your nerves now.

“You know what?” you snap, “I’ll go check by myself.”

He extends a hand in your direction and shows you his palm.

“No, no, no, no!” he cries. “You join the others in the queue, and the entire base will starve until you decide!”

You scoff at his sarcasm, and he opens the door.

“Listen,” he says, “I’ll go check and call you, okay?”

“LIEUTENANT!” you shout, but he slams the door behind him. You peek over at his desk. “You forgot your phone...” you murmur to yourself.

The lieutenant was a very cold man when you first met him. His responses were limited to yeses and nos with the occasional shrug, and he never joined you in everyday job activities, especially at lunchtime. You’d always eat alone in the mess hall, and if your breaks coincided with that of Gaz or Soap’s, you’d sit with them and eat lunch together. Ghost would normally sit in the office or hide in a corner around the base and eat since he didn’t want anyone to see him without his mask. But slowly, he came to trust you all with his face, and you’d eat together, locked in your office.

You look at the time. Given his hunger when he left, he should have returned five minutes ago. What if he gave up on you and is already eating with the rest? Sure, your indecisiveness annoys him, especially since he has to deal with it daily, but he’d never let you eat alone, right? On the other hand... he may be trying to teach you a lesson.

You take another glance at the time. This doesn’t feel right. You start cleaning up your desk to head for the kitchen, but someone knocks on the door.

“It’s open,” you announce, “come on in!”

“I’ve got my hands full.” You hear Ghost reply.

You walk up to the door and swing it open. Ghost stands there with a serving trolley full of dishes.

“Thanks,” he murmurs while he pushes the trolley inside the office.

“You forgot your phone!” you inform him.

“I didn’t forget it,” he says as he stops the trolley in front of your desk. “I’d rather put my bare hand in a fire and let it simmer than add a third option to your dilemma and let you decide while there’s a queue of starving soldiers behind me.”

He removes the plates from the trolley and arranges them on your desk. “Here’s the fucking pizza, the fucking shitburger, and the tofu version of the shitburger.”

He places another plate with five pizza slices on his desk. He removes his mask and immediately slaps a piece in his mouth.

“That’s a lot of food, Lt.,” you whisper, scanning the plates before you.

He turns his head towards you and keeps chewing. “Yeah,” he says, swallowing, “better have all the options in front of you than squeeze any reserve of patience I have left.”

You take a slice of pizza from your tray and bite into it.

He stares at you, raises his plate to the sky, and rambles about how “you didn’t want pizza before.” You clarify that, while you still don’t want pizza, it appears to be the best option among the three.

“However,” you continue, “I would murder for a good burger.”

He swallows and takes a second pizza slice from his plate.

“I know a place,” he explains. “We can go tonight.”

“Lieutenant, you smooth operator!” you tease, “like on a date?”

He nods and takes another mouthful. He doesn’t even bother looking at you. He’s too preoccupied with nourishing his massive body to worry about your mocking.

“What kind of a place is it?” You ask.

“It’s a shithole,” he says, “but it does the best burgers you’ve ever had.”

“So, what should I wear?”

He stops eating and aggressively shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. “I won’t get involved in your woes again—I’ll give you the address, and you’ll be there at 8 p.m.”

“Are you going to email me the menu so I can decide what to eat ahead of time?”

He swallows and looks at you. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” he says, taking another bite.

“Why?”

“Because there’s no menu at my place.”

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