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bookish-bi-mormon · 1 year

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Not me actually having a "missionary moment" by explaining Family Search to someone XD

To be CLEAR I was not trying to convert or anything. She just said she was interested in family history and I was like "Well, have you used this website? It has a lot of resources and format and stuff." and I showed her FamilySearch but then felt like I had to explain what the Temple Work section meant, and then she was like "What's that? is it like baptism/communion/etc?" and I was like ... yes and no. And then I explained baptisms for the dead etc... and she said that was pretty cool.

#social interaction succeded #she asked for a link to family search so she can have more resources to find her ancestors #so that's dope #tumblrstake #family search #genealogy

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ningmung · 1 month

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Can't walk into my miniso store because those bitches think I'm a shoplifter bc I was w my friend who tried shoplifting n got caught + today i went in w another friend they had eyes on me and then my friend tapped on the showcase keyboard and it fell like I can't walk into that mfking store any more...

#like i am a shoplifter i did steal stuff and i succeded but she didnt #likeeeee

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ria-the-camel · 2 years

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While i absolutely adore that that last roll of ep 33 ended up being a crit fail, and the poetry of imogen finally not being able to resist the storm when it's Laudna who gets hurt, I think it would have been a very hard dc in any case.

I feel like with every wisdom save matt threw her way the dc got a bit higher, the stress of the fight and the strength of the storm growing.

And then knowing about how much Imogen cares specifically for Lauda, i think matt would have made it pretty hard for her to hold on (still possible, but hard)

Also, I kinda got the feeling that was a way for matt to stop the bloodshed as soon as possible, while still leaving agency to his players.

Had the battle not gone to shit from the start, they probably could have defeated Otahan, but the way it went, this was somehow also a way to avoid a tpk from matt, while laura kept Imogen very much in character in her absolute terror of the storm

Anyway i love Imogen she's a little fucked up in so many interesting ways and i cant wait to see how that develops in the aftermath

#that said i am not a dm or any type of dnd expert haha #so just ignore this #critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #crit role #cr3 #imogen my beloved she's so interesting shes cold she need to be in control shes constantly overwhelmed #and shes also full of love on the verge of collapsing and was forced to become so skilled at self discipline #she's my fave in campaign 3 #can u tell #imagine if she had somehow succeded in that last wis save. laudna would be for sure dead and then what?#bet she would have been overwhelmed anyway cos what do you do then #now with even more guilt(tm)!#she's a very self centered character that doesn't seem it. To me it contrasts Ashton who seems a loner asshole but would do anything for t #their friends even if it went against their main ideals #she loves her friends! but shes just more scared #oh got these tags are long im gonna stop

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bisummers · 4 months

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Plane Jane really said i’m gonna take two fan favorites of all time (katya and jimbo) and i am going to make them so unlikable… and she is.

#like dont get me wrong #she came wt a mission and she is succeding #time will tell if it pays off #im not one to ever compare queen but i do think she is doing it on purpose #drag race

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nerice · 6 months

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Oddly specific q but what is the situation with belle & the tracker in her? Does Faye install it to be able to track her down? Did Jumie install it (into every child) so Belle never gets lost? Can Faye control Belle with it?

Red Hurting Sun & Dream Game sound like such painful but also intense(good) chapters! And Faye seems like the most complex and evil character while also being hurt and having her reasons if that makes sense????? Anyway ily your shadowblogging bye <3

GOOD EVENING ANON DEAREST I CAN FINALLY ANSWER THIS !!!!!!! PRAY THAT MY WRIST HOLDS OUT

uh so. the tracker is important. the tracker is like /the most important/ as far as central plot mechanics are concerned and the last time i did a comprehensive writeup on it this happened.....

(with the other writing linked in that document full length is closer to 35k. rip) SO THIS ANSWER WILL BE ABRIDGED for all our sakes.

the tracker is what pulls every single book together, even if it features in some more prominently (nerice, dream game) than the others. by the time it concerns belle, it has long ceased its original function. the first time it turns up is back on nerice, where eliada helps the warlords build a tracker for reina bc he himself is also sulking that she keeps refusing 2 talk to him. bitch behavior <3 tldr is that the swords of a tracker (the person, that eliada is) are the only thing able to pierce a true ruler's skin (a/s mechanics, dw abt it) and so thru him they're able to engenieer a mechanical dragonfly that upon contact, burrows under the skin of reina's wrist (if you ever wondered where her scar comes from... :^)) this is also what, ultimately, causes her to split her soul in an attempt to get rid of it, which causes the moons to break and kickstarts the entire fucking verse saga. with the end of her world, the tracker becomes inert but reina keeps it for unwise sentimentality reasons (hands u meme abt it) w

in old plot, eliada petitioned to get his hands on it during one of their roa deals (bonus points bc jumie wld be around for that trade, even if eliada n reina only euphemistically talk abt it as 'the dragonfly' and she'd only see a small box change hands) but lately i've been more inclined to move that event into lhnh where reina, from her end, volunteers the tracker to make eliada talk abt the soulless (gray) bc it makes slightly more sense thematically for her to refuse all his trades until then. either way, the tracker is back in eliada's hands by the end of the azra war era.

bc the tracker was not simply tracking reina. eliada's entire quest is abt understanding the precise workings of true rulers, so, given the opportunity, he made the tracker also collect,, not quite her blood? smth more vague and metaphysical, refined through an inner process into something more, something more essential. [true ruler essence] for the sake of meta terminology. he cannot actually do anything with it in his current position but plans on analyzing it and comparing it to true rulers of a/s once he returns home. which is the entire problem bc he is stuck as long as the verse is broken [PLAYED URSELF. <3] which brings us to. him & faye thinking long and hard forever abt how to fix the moons so they can both go home. yippee

which is ofc how we get to belle. how we get to the entire daughter con situation (skipping over many messy timelines that preceded arriving at this final, working solution) which, in tldr terms, is this:

a vessel whose soul is the tracker. whose very existence is linked the essence of reina before the split, before the fall, an essence from before the moon core broke. an artificial child, created for the sole purpose of burning this essence back into the moon core and thereby repair it. so you have belle, who thinks herself a descendant, but really is just a dead dragonfly with true ruler dna walking. faye connects her to the moon core by forcing her to swallow the eternal souls (chess's eyes that gray so generously removed once upon a time. <3 wld say the only good deed he has ever done but this shit was part of what broke the entire machine in the first place, it just happens to conveniently hand faye a way to also put it back together) and really all that is left to do then is set belle on fire via angel theory & fuse her existence into the moon core. make her the conduit through which the entire machinery can begin to work as intended again. just that 7000/10 times belle breaks under the strain, the weight of the universe, leaving faye to do it all over again bc the theory is solid. it's the daughter that's wrong :^)

#LOVE. the thruline of soulless going 'hm. not what i was expecting' @ their daughters and causing them unbearable suffering over it. lol #there's an extremely cute motd moment (at the other side of this entire venture) when faye is on her mad little rampage bc chess refuses #to hold his end of their bargain. where she threatens to rip the tracker out of belle's chest and plunge everything back into chaos #alas she cannot do it. she worked entirely too long for this (& still doesn't know why it finally succeded lol. idiot <3)#she can't bring herself 2 toss it all down the fucking drain. but she will still menace belle abt it as if the entire thing is her fault h.#belle is never the same as a true ruler but her weird [moon bandaid walking] status post-angel ascension makes some fun things happen #mostly putting things into circles around her when she isn't looking and it's extremely annoying to her lol <33 #we love freak children and their even freakier apotheoses >:3 #ANYWAY AS U CAN TELL I CAN TALK FOREVER ABT THIS. HOPE IT WAS COHERENT ENOUGH #askbox #anonbox #oc asks #i love YOU and you are my FAVOURITE PERSON anon <33333333333333

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kibbits · 2 years

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Yulia's no good, very bad, terrible goopy day in our Witcher ttrpg game the other day. World's saddest halfling right there fgjkd

She’s fiiiine! She just got eaten by a monster a little. And busted her ribs. And her friend was also eaten (but spat out). And the father they were trying to save died in her arms as she was trying to keep him out of the acid inside the stomach, even though we saved him from bleeding out in extremis right before that.

And our witcher almost died to his own spell blowing up in his face and setting him on fire TWICE before the monster ate him, spat him back up and then stomped him. (He is ALSO not having a good day)

Don’t worry, they had the world goopiest group hug moments later

#my art #yulia #witcher ttrpg #is she covered in a) her own blood?#b) the guy's blood and digested bits of flesh?#c) her friends' blood and digested bits of flesh?#d)bile and saliva?#or e)all of the above? : )#had to patch up so much of the witcher's armor it was so burnt and digested #we technically succeded?? thats witcher for ya #the doggo's concussion has yet to heal but soon #and no one got deflated lungs or sceptic shock this time! progress cbdbdb

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scentofpines · 1 month

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"There are no animals in the world as conceited as men. When they are paid even casual compliments by women, they immediately jump to conclusions and betray themselves with loathsome smirks. Men really are the personification of conceit. The more conceited [they] are, moreover, the more they tend to prefer fainthearted people. In times of emergency, they clearly have more affection for women with no self-respect, who first burst into tears, wailing 'Whatever shall we do?' at their wits' end, than for wives who give good counsel….Many men dislike women with their own opinions. They prefer women who listen to what they have to say admiringly, even if they are utterly indifferent. Men who are very conceited treat women as playthings … They hide behind their masks, looking grave, putting on airs and affecting dignity; and the more they talk self-importantly, feign cleverness, and take themselves too seriously, the more women are able to see through their downright stupidity." - Kanno Sugako, japanese anarcha-feminist who was executed for her involvement in the assassination attempt on the Emperor.

#Kanno Sugako #feminism #history #she was inspired by Sofia Perovskaia who succeded in assassinating the tsar #radfem safe #radblr

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leclsrc · 1 year

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wait and see ✴︎ cl16

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst barely, other drivers appear

word count: 2.5k

The grid recounts the evolution, nature, and many ups and downs of your and Charles' vague relationship.

auds here... req'd, this was p fun to write i hope u guys like it! :) short bec if it was any longer it wouldnt have been as nice to read i think? anyway... i love u guys. title from this.

Lando takes a seat. “Is this the thingy for…? Yeah? Okay. What am I supposed to do again?”

“Just describe the two of them.”

“Easy. She was always pissing him off.” He rubs his chin, lost in thought. “But… in a good way?”

—

“I told you a hundred times I didn’t want this to be the soundbite you published.” Charles chases after you, his footsteps quickening like a lost puppy as you wrestle your way into the media pen. “A hundred times, and you said okay, and you still published it. Che succede?”

You turn, crossing your arms over your torso. “Look. I said yes, but when I looked it over, nothing else you said was really worth it. It was all just repetitions of the same PR bullshit that makes you look good on camera.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling with frustration, watching his biting comment on Iñaki rack up hundreds of thousands of views. “This was not a good idea!” He repeats, the same sentiment he’s been telling you in the half-hour he’s known of this video’s publicity.

“But it happened.” You adjust your mic and gesture to Lando, who’s awkwardly waiting for the cameras to roll so you can start the post-FP2 interview and he can talk about his shit car. “I’m busy, so deal with it. Your fans will appreciate you not riding Ferrari’s dick all the time.”

Charles opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it, shoving his way back outside and into the motorhome so he can cooperate in damage control. He doesn’t admit it—to you, to Carlos, to anyone—but the PR that comes of it is more good than it is bad in the end. He doesn’t admit it because it means admitting you’re right, and God if that’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

—

“They were always butting heads,” George says, laughing as he soaks in the memories of it. “Always fighting over something. Anything. Whatever there was that could be disagreed on—they’d be disagreeing.”

—

It started harmlessly enough. Seb walked in with two swatches of color—a blue and a purple—and addressed the room with a light tone, asking what color would best suit the tablecloths at his wedding. And then, as it always did with you and Charles, chaos ensued.

“Blue suits green better.” You wave the blue in his face. “You’re busy thinking of red all the time so you don’t understand color theory.”

“It’s not about coordination! It’s about creating a highlight!” He gestures with his hands, aggressively gesticulating to try and get his point across. “Highlight!”

“Oh, bullshit! Blue!”

“Purple!”

“Are you crazy?!”

Across the room, Seb and George watch in mild horror at the two figures caught in a needlessly intense argument over colors at a wedding that isn’t even theirs.

An AlphaTauri engineer comes in to refill his coffee for the third time, finds the two of you still fighting and is genuinely stupefied. He turns to the two onlookers, asks, “Bridezilla, huh? Happened to me once, too. I swear the grooms always try to weasel their way in to seem more involved but their choices never make sense.”

“Oh, no. They, uh, they’re not together.” George clarifies quickly.

“They’re not?!” The engineer and Seb ask at the same time.

They all watch the argument, bemused, but secretly they all wonder just how correct George is.

—

“We have a saying in Spanish. Del amor al odio hay un paso. Neither of them will understand it—it’s in Spanish, obviously—but I think that applies to them. One minute you think they hate each other, and the next…” Carlos lets himself taper into silence, smiling softly.

—

Being around Charles feels like karmic retribution, a constant eternal push and pull. But it makes the both of you better, even if neither of you admit it in the end. You can’t really grasp why, or how it started—it might take ages if you do so much as try—but you’re content with letting things happen the way they do.

Or maybe you’re not. “You ruined my fucking broadcast, dickhead!”

You toss your earpiece at his chest, body welling up with annoyance. Your segment was being casted live until Charles insisted he take up your airtime to do whatever-the-fuck, you honestly don’t care. And yeah, sure, he’s way more relevant, but the less airtime you get, the less easily you get the exposure you need.

“It happened one time.” He sounds amused, and it patronizes you, sets you on fire. He clutches your earpiece to his chest and hands it back to you.

“Fuck you.” You tug it toward yourself, and suddenly you’re closer, noses almost touching. You step back, but it’s not enough. “You have no idea how much that mattered to me.”

His eyes flit toward your lips, your bodies melting together. “If it really did…” he says, inhaling, “you would’ve just ignored me.” And damn, he’s right.

Charles does not like you. He just knows you well. But then one might argue—isn’t that the same thing?

—

“They have trouble not calling the shots, is the thing,” Lewis offers. “So put them in a team, in a room together, and boom.”

—

“…We didn’t agree on this script.” You underline the problematic lines and toss it onto Charles’ lap from where you stand in front of the sofa. “You want your fans to hate you?”

“The questions were clumsy. I asked you to reword them, but you didn’t.”

“You didn’t ask, to be clear. You demanded.” You click your tongue.

Lewis is in the middle of posting on Roscoe’s Instagram account and manually making typos, but he looks up, interest piqued by the increasingly heated conversation.

“I asked,” Charles insists stubbornly. “Plus, this is a Ferrari segment. You get hired to write on Ferrari, you follow Ferrari.” He points to the yellow logo on his shirt. Ferrari, he mouths. Lewis stifles a chuckle at the sarcastic exchange.

“Jesus.” You reread the script. “Fine. I’ll reword this and this.”

“And that.” He points, tapping the paper.

“Only if you edit this and this. Oh, God, and this.”

“Fine. Wait, that?”

“Are you serious? It’s the corniest statement ever. Edit that or I edit nothing.”

“Okay, bossy.”

Lewis exits Instagram in favor of texting Seb to ask if you two are dating. The response he receives is equally unhelpful: Nobody knows mate.

—

“You know, for all the disagreeing they did, they actually agreed on so much of the same stuff. If they stopped fighting for two seconds they would agree on most things.” Alex muses. “But they never did, so. Or maybe a few times.”

—

Media is a tricky thing. It’s either on your side, or it isn’t.

And this weekend, Charles has drawn the short straw, subjected to bouts of backhanded journalists and tweets for his strategy during quali. You know this especially well—you’re media, for Christ’s sake—and you’ve seen your colleagues hound Charles for how he chose to tackle the session.

Alex is in the middle of a FaceTime call with Lily when he hears it. “Wait—I think they’re talking,” he says to his girlfriend when he hears you approach him, carefully maneuvering himself into optimal eavesdropping position.

“Is this the right thing to do?” Lily’s voice comes through like static.

“I know it’s wrong,” Alex confesses. “But—”

“No, I meant I can’t hear properly. Move the phone closer, you dick.”

So he does, and the two of them listen intently to your talk. You go first, a few shuffling footsteps and an adjustment of your media pass, then. “Will’s been all over you today.”

“Yeah,” comes Charles’ voice, tired if anything. “I, uh… I just hope I can understand where I went wrong and, uh. Well, uh.”

“No, I…” There’s heavy silence. “I think you did the right thing. You didn’t get pole, but it was a good strategy. Better than what was being proposed, anyway. I think that would’ve landed you at the back of the grid, to be honest.”

You both laugh. “Thanks,” he croaks.

“You did great. Don’t, um… don’t let them tell you otherwise. I’m proud of you.”

Alex never tells anybody what he heard. But it inspires many long-winded conversations with Lily about the nature of your relationship. Each time, though, they never arrive to a solid answer.

—

“Hey, listen. I always knew something was there with those two. They had the kind of dynamic you only find once in, like, a million instances.” Daniel says firmly. “But I also kept thinking… poor Charlotte.”

—

You’re half-sure Pierre was the one who bought you all shots. Or a quarter-sure. Okay, you’re not sure at all. Your mind’s cloudy, your inhibitions lowered, tongue loose and laugh contagious. Around the table everyone is laughing, some others have gotten up to dance, but you, Daniel, Lewis, and Charles are all conversing about work, albeit while drunk.

“Is… tequila… plant-based?” Lewis grimaces as he throws another shot back and you all laugh mindlessly.

“Danny,” you say, tapping his shoulder. “Any plans once you’re out of the paddock next season?”

“Ah,” he hums. “Self-discovery and a shit ton of shrooms.”

You all cheers to the epiphany, shots once again entering your system. “And a party again tomorrow!” Daniel adds half-jokingly, much to your delight. Charles, right beside you, throws an arm over your shoulder as he laughs. You’re unfazed.

Daniel’s gaze lingers on his arm a little too long, especially because your own hand reaches upward to wrap around his wrist, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. But you’re both drunk, he reasons. And plus, you can’t usually stand each other’s guts.

“I’ll pass, mate, if it happens,” Charles says, his tone clearly inebriated.

“You’re no fun,” you say lightly, laughing and turning to him. Your eyes are on the other’s, dark, lips almost touching as if you’ve forgotten Daniel and Lewis are even around (though the latter is as good as dead, honestly.)

“Invite Charlotte instead,” Daniel says with a smile, to try and test your reactions. “How long, now? Three months?”

You clear your throat, looking away with a faux smile.

“Oh. We’re not doing so well, to be honest.” Charles smiles, tight-lipped. He hopes Daniel doesn’t ask why. He can’t think of a lie quickly enough to cover how Charlotte told him I love you, Charles, but this is over. I hope you end up with her someday.

—

Seb takes some time to think about it. “Those two always fought. Everyone said that, didn’t they? All the time, disagreeing.” He hums. “I could tell very early, though, that they were also the only two who could truly understand the other. Figuratively, obviously—but as a result, also literally.”

“Elaborate?”

“When you understand someone that well, inside and out, you end up understanding everything they say.” Seb smiles. “That was them, I think.”

—

“It’s impossible to transcribe your interviews,” Will says to Charles. It’s that hour on the paddock where everyone’s waiting for the pre-race bustle to start, so small talk is what’s keeping them busy.

You’re reviewing a few clips from practice on your phone and Seb is chipping into the conversation, which has moved from Mick’s future to F1 into Sky Sports into this.

“What do you mean?” Charles asks.

“You’re always sliding in and out of your three languages!” The Englishman laughs. “I have to consult a native speaker of both Italian and French each time. And you’re always going I, I, I, or we, we, we… but hey, the fans dig it, innit?”

“I think I sound perfectly understandable.” Charles smiles. You’re still busy, unfocused on the conversation at present.

“Like, okay. Look at this.” Will retrieves his phone, opens his voice memos app, and plays one of the audio recordings there. It’s a scratchy one of Charles describing his quali session, and sure enough, even if he’s speaking straight English, the adrenaline and exhaustion have him sounding totally indecipherable.

We—we had gasjdhfhs and I, I, I… I think we need to rejshdhs and thijsjsh about the hsfhdh, yeah? And, and, uh, we ajhshajs. And

Will closes it. “Sebastian, can you tell me that said?”

He shrugs, amused. “Sorry, Charles. I genuinely can’t.”

“See?!” Will makes a voila motion. “Nobody understands this.”

“He said we had good traction and I think we need to recalibrate and think about the boxing strategy, yeah? And we need that mindset.” You’re still going over your phone, busy and not 100% invested. “You two just aren’t listening.”

Charles doesn’t take his eyes off you, or the smile off his face, the whole hour.

—

Pierre comes last, clearing his throat. He’s ready. He knows exactly what to say, so he says it. “Those two are fucking soulmates.”

—

It’s three-thirty when somebody knocks on your hotel room.

But your body still feels like it’s five in the evening, your brain’s stuck at two in the afternoon, and your sleep schedule thinks it’s nine in the morning, so you’re not asleep but instead rewriting notes from the weekend prior.

You’re horribly disoriented when you grab your pepper spray and unlatch the door, and even more disoriented when you see Charles on the other side of it.

“Am I crazy?” He asks, breathless, like he’s been waiting for you all his life. Maybe he has.

“You’re at my hotel room at three a.m., so… a bit.” You rub sleepiness and jetlag out of your eyes. “Charles, what’s going on?”

“I love you.” There it is. “It sounds so stupid. But I love you. And it’s almost—I can’t bear it. I woke up this morning? You, on my mind. Lights go off after a race? You. I go to sleep? You. It’s always you. And I know, I know it’s—I know, with Charlotte, and—but it’s true. I, I, I—I think about you every minute. And usually this happens accidentally. Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s’agit d’amour... moi y compris.

“But this was… I knew I was falling in love and I let it happen. And so I thought, why keep waiting? Why let it drag on and on and fight over and over when I can just come and tell you how much I—and maybe, hopefully, see if you feel the same?”

He pants, tired from his clearly rambled and unplanned confession.

“I love you, too,” you say, struck. Oh God.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

“It’s may,” you breathe. “May I kiss you.”

“You may,” he whispers.

“Right now?”

“Anytime.”

“So now.”

“It’s now or next Tuesday,” he jokes.

“Now is… the best. Now would do.”

“Now would do.” So you cross the threshold and let him scoop you into his arms so he can well and truly kiss you.

—

“Is that all?” The interviewer asks Pierre. “Just… those words? We need a bit more for the article on this event.”

“Oh, yeah.” He gets up, straightens his tie. “Don’t worry. You’ll hear the rest during my best man speech.”

Del amor al odio hay un paso – From love to hate, there is one step.

Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s'agit d'amour... moi y compris – We are all fools in love... me included.

#f1 #leclsrc2000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

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bestloversfan · 3 months

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I know I've talked about this before, but I keep seeing the take that Katniss having a daydream about Peeta's child in the Quarter Quell somehow means that she already wanted to have a child with him at that point, and that she pictured herself as the mother of his child, and that that was the reason why she felt "deliciously happy" the next morning... And this take always bothers me, because I don't think it's supported by the text (and context).

I've talked about this in more detail in this post, but basically, Katniss was NOT expecting to be in that future with Peeta. When she imagined a future where "Peeta's child could be safe" (look how she referred to the child as his, and not as hers, or theirs), she was imagining a future where her plan to sacrifice herself for him had succeded. At that point, she was certain that she would die, even though she was wrong. But she still had hopes that Peeta could live and inspire the rebels (she said that herself), and she wanted him to live and be happy, even if it wasn't with her. And Peeta wanted the same for her. They "knew" they couldn't both live and have a future together, but yet they wanted to sacrifice themselves so that the other could live and find happiness, even if that meant they would be with someone else (Katniss couldn't imagine anyone specifically in the way Peeta could imagine Gale, but she "knew" that his child couldn't be hers). And that just shows how unselfish their love for each other was.

As for the "delicious feeling of happiness that is somehow connected with Peeta" that Katniss had in the morning after the beach kiss: Have you all ever been in love? If you have, you know why she felt that way. Lol

#that post is not a shade at anyone specifically #I've seen many people defending this idea in the last few months #so please don't get offended #that's just a healthy disagreement #lol #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #thg

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