#spindle crimes

[spindle-and-nima]

Little unlicensed contractors.....

It's the way he's proudly sitting by the now barricaded wall clearly waiting do it again

#like sir i did NOT hire you #zero dollars for you #bunblr #bunnies of tumblr #spindle #asks #spindle crimes

[cocteaucherry]

posting things from the drafts <3

gojo x gn!culinary arts reader

cw- inaccurate depictions of culinary school, gojo being a fiend,

Gojo was ecstatic you wanted to go try going back to school, he preferred you wanting to go in a less dangerous field anyways (even though you’ve expressed multiple times you could hold your own) He was just nervous anytime you were sent on dangerous missions, blowing up your phone every five minutes.

You had sat down with him expressing every option and each field you could go into, bouncing from math to science you ultimately decided on Culinary Arts. Satoru decided selfishly that was the best thing he ever did in his life.

Each day when you came back from classes a new sweet treat appeared in your hands, your first week you bought home half a fruit tart. You were very self conscious since your instructor insulted your knife skills when it came to the fruits.

Satoru didn’t care though, the next morning you woke up to find only crumbs left in the container. The second week you had learned to make caramel and various candies, every time you left your precious sweets unattended your not so precious boyfriend mauled them down.

“Satoru! Did you seriously eat the rest of my caramel candies?” You asked obviously knowing the answer, “ermm.. no! What are these candies you speak of?” He yelled from the bedroom as you stared down at your empty container, “Gojo, be serious!” You heard the bed creak and all of a sudden your 6’3 boyfriend was standing in front of you with the expression of a kicked puppy.

“Hey! What’s with the “Gojo” treatment?” He whined leaning against the counter, his arms crossed across his chest, “You'll return to Satoru status once you admit your crimes.” You deadpanned crossing your arms, “okay so hypothetically- what if I HYPOTHETICALLY ate them.” “Then im-“ you were interrupted by his finger being placed on your lips, “WHAT if it was some sort of candy stealing curse? That’d be a shame!” He feigned raising his hand to his forehead.

“Yeah you’re not getting that status back.” You sighed walking away hearing him try to plead with you.

His sweet thief addiction only intensified when you had to practice at home, you were instructed to make a two tier marble cake with the design your instructor gave sounds easy? Not when Satoru’s off of work.

“Please baby! Pleaseeeee?” You glanced down annoyingly at the sight before you, on both knees- bright blue eyes peering up and you and snow white hair almost fell over them. You groaned looking away continuing your work to whisk the frosting, “you already licked the bowl AND spindles clean, how have you not crashed yet?” You grabbed the palette knife slabbing a glob of icing on the first layer.

“I’m just a boy and you’re breaking my dreams!” He whined, clasping his hand in a prayer stance, “you’re a twenty eight year old man, and one of the strongest people in the world.. sounds to me you’re alright,” you swear you could see hearts in his eyes, “So you do think I’m the strongest?~” he said in a songy tone.

“Everyone does!” You exclaimed, turning your head away from the icing to check your phone, when you swung your head back your boyfriend was missing and so was the spoon in the frosting bowl, peeping down you could see a large empty hole where the stolen frosting was.

“Toruuu come on!!!” You yelled running down the hall to find him and your stolen spoon.

(id love some more ideass, my ask box is open id greatly appreciate it <33

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #gojo fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo

[oneshotnewbie]

Reader is afraid of all kind of animals and when she is on a crime scene and a dog comes to her, she is a mess and hides behind Olivia.

Authors note: Okay, the dog scene seems like an full blown exaggeration, but those are the words of my best friend, who is terrified of dogs.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Icy wind howled around the alley´s massive stone walls while being accompanied by a fine drizzle that blackened the gray concrete floor and blended with the scenario in a cruel symphony.

According to the weather records, it promised to be a beautiful summer day, but the end of the night still reigned with it an impenetrable darkness in which only the never-fading fog stood out.

Driven by the storm that was about to end, you wafted through the waving barrier tape to the scene of crime, where your colleagues were already waiting for you. "What do we have?"

You stared sternly at the corpse of a young woman after you knelt down and stretched your cold and shivering fingers under the tarpaulin she laid beneath. She was young, no more than 25, and was apparently a victim of strangulation.

"Patricia Mills, 21 years old. According to witnesses, she was last seen with a much older man and woman in the bar a few blocks from here.

According to camera footage, the three left the said bar around 2am", Fin Tutuola quoted the information he himself had received from the lieutenant. He looked down at you and was not surprised that you still looked a little wrinkled and tired.

Your night tended to be a little shorter than his own, you being the last to leave the department.

You yawned in response to successfully digesting the information he had given you.

"Well, y/n? Did you have a good time last night?" Rollins could not resist asking after she had followed some leads and returned back to the crime scene with Olivia. The opportunity begged to be used for a little teasing of her partner. Just for your annoyed look and your snotty answer, it was worth carefully crossing your nerves with the front toe of her shoe.

"Sure, Mandy. I threw a huge stripper party in Olivia's office yesterday. I was surprised you two did not come back to join," you winked and quickly turned back to the corpse to avoid the glare from them. "What was the exact cause of death?" you asked, quickly tucking the sheet back over the woman's face, the reporters already lurking to snap a perfect photo to the press.

"According to the coroner, the woman was strangled with a thin rope as you have already recognized from the marks," the brunette sighed and continued. "Scratches on her forearms and face indicate that she fought back. With luck, we will have the foreign DNA under her fingernails"

You nodded vigorously and allowed the coroner to put the body in a body bag. "Same procedure as with the other four women. Our serial killer?"

Olivia Benson looked at you and shrugged. It was possible, the train of thought was quite obvious. However, it was the wrong area where the serial killer usually murdered. So it remained to be seen whether the strangulation marks on the neck matched those worn by the other victims over the past month.

"Milo, stop!" screamed a woman at the top of her lungs, bringing you and the others off the spindles of evidence. You watched as a brown Labrador puppy swooped under the crime scene tape and rushed towards you, pointy, white teeth showing and the tongue hanging out.

Man's best friend was illogical to you. Animals were more of a nightmare depending on how they were trained by humans. But most of the time, those words perfectly described these creatures in your eyes. Dangerous.

Depending on the strength of their bone-crushing teeth, they could rip off an arm or a leg. Dogs could knock you over and break bones depending on their weight. It was even worse when they barked loudly and brought you closer to a heart attack.

It was the traumatizing experience that made you think that way. Since then you were so scared that you tried to avoid the places where they hung out the most with their owners. Every time you met a dog, big or small, made your mind became a haze of fear and panic.

"Take away the dog, take him away!" you practically yelled in the ear of your best friend, Olivia, and dodged aside behind her. Your hands rested frantically on her shoulders, pulling her back toward you with every movement to shield you from the animal.

The dog, his name apparently Milo by the call, was running around sniffing the place frantically before pulling himself up on the Lieutenant's leg and hastily wagging his tail. "Y/n that is just a cute puppy, what is the matter with you?" she coaxed softly, trying to pet the young dogs head.

"Those are little demons! One wrong move and those things will maul you. They are only out for your flesh and blood!" you remarked and pulled Olivia closer to you, your back now completely pressed against the wall of the house.

You were frightened beyond reality, paralyzed in places as you stared at the pup. Olivia, being the concerned and loving type, trailed his thin body with her hands and picked him up, before he could reach you.

Despite your obvious tiredness, however, you suddenly seemed fully awake. Amanda, Olivia and Fin took that as an opportunity to grin broadly at you. "Oh Detective. Are you afraid of dogs?"

They watched as you promptly blushed. You opened and closed your mouth, but not a word came out of you. "Not afraid of dead bodies but god forbid a little puppy approaches her. We know you are a little scaredy-cat behind your badass facade"

You rolled your eyes at Fin´s comment and punched him lightly on the shoulder. No one had tried to hide the deep laugh. You folded your arms across your chest and watched as Amanda took the dog up in her arms and back from the crime scene to its owner, who was standing behind the crime scene tape, tensed and apologetic.

You shook visibly next to Olivia. Gently, she guided your hands into hers, caressing them with their thumbs to calm you down. "Y/n, sweetheart. It is okay, nothing happened to you and nothing will happen to you. We are partners and partners trust each other," she spoke softly and gently pulled you into her arms. "Why did you not ever tell us that you are afraid of dogs?" she queried, stroking your shoulders.

"I did not want you to think the wrong way about me. I am super strong at work and can handle anything but I am scared of dogs? How does that look like?"

"We will both get through this together okay? I will help you overcome the fear so that you become even stronger than you already are," she promised with all her heart, and started moving into the car with you in her arms.

#olivia benson imagines #olivia benson imagine #captain olivia benson #olivia benson x reader #lieutenant olivia benson #oliviabenson x you #olivia benson #oliviabensonxyou #oliviabenson imagines #oliviabenson imagine #oliviabensonxreader #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #imagines #imagine #nbc svu #svu fic #l&o: svu #law and order svu #svu #l&o svu #special victims unit #law & order: special victims unit #law and order special victims unit #finn tutuola x you #finn tutuola x reader #finntutuola #finn tutuola #fin tutuola

[ivorivet]

Book related yarn crimes!!

I will be in a Circle of Magic cosplay group with @pearlybae @knitfreakcosplay and aka.s.mel soon and because I am actively listening to the audiobooks and have no chill about spinning I wanted to make some props for us!

First is Sandry's yarn circle, which is described as being a beginner's first lumpy yarn with four distinct lumps, and also looped back on itself so you can't tell where the beginning is. Drafting huge lumps was a big pain in the butt because the size differential I wanted between the fat and skinny sections of the yarn meant that virtually no twist would get into the lumpy bits. (Could have made them smaller, but I feel like it would have made for a boring prop.) So when I started trying to join the ends of the yarn and even out the spacing between the lumps, the stupid lumps kept drafting out because that's how fiber behaves and the loop kept getting bigger and bigger. To get the loop to hang loosely without plying back on itself, I finger-felted the skinny parts with soap and water and then fried it with a flatiron for good measure.

The other prop is a spindle with some light-up yarn. It's just wool wrapped around some EL wire but I'm pretty pleased at how it turned out. And I got to use up some of the mountain of Icelandic thel wool I have to find something to make with, so win-win!

#circle of magic #spinning #handspinning #sandry

[adarkrainbow]

As I have been reblogging and looking back at Sleeping Beauty stuff around the Internet, I realized the thing that is bothering me a bit... When it comes to the you know "original" format of Sleeping Beauty.

Everywhere on the Internet you have these posts and videos and whatnot about "The dark truth behind Sleeping Beauty" or "The Horrifying Origins of Sleeping Beauty!", and they all refer to the fact that in the "original" version of the tale, she got raped in her sleep. This is the "dark fact" everybody LOVES to spread around and talk about. Except... Except the version they refer to is Basile's "Sun, Moon and Thalia".

Why does that matter? I'll explain.

Everybody depicts "Sun, Moon and Thalia" as this sort of dark, horrifying tale of a grim and gruesome crime. They will have in their video a dark background, and creepy illustrations, and they will take an ominous horror movie voice and whatnot.

But there's a big problem with that. Basile's stories were all except serious. They were humoristic tales. Or more precisely, they were farcical stories. Farces. There's a reason its "twin compilation", Straparola's fairytale collection, is called "Facetious Nights". So the very idea of presenting these stories as if they were meant to be taken seriously is completely misreading the story's tone. Yes there was a rape - but if you extract this from the entire context and storytelling, you make this tale sound like something it is absolutely not.

"Sun, Moon and Thalia" is not meant to be a horror story. It was not meant to be read as "serious" story. It has nothing to do with either the Grimm or Perrault fairytales. The entirety of the "Pentamerone" is basically a folk-sex comedy. If such a thing can exist.

Every fairytale of the Pentamerone is opened by a small recap of the story announcing what it will be about - and already from the get-go the very two lines opening this recap give the humoristic nature of the tale away. "Thalia dies because of a splinter". I mean come on - the joke is obvious. A girl gets a splinter, she dies. And if this wasn't enough the rest of the sentence can be translated as following: "she is left in a room where the son of the king penetrates and makes her two children". The choice of the word "penetrate" is to highlight the pun in the original line where the prince entering Thalia's bedroom and the prince entering Thalia's body is resumed in one same verb.

For more breakdown of the jokes of the story, see below the cut:

As I said before from the get-go the "curse" is treated as a joke. You have this king that summons scholars to make his daughter's horoscope, right? And what does it say. "She is in great danger... BECAUSE OF A SPLINTER!". This is literaly the killer rabbit of the Monty Pythons.

In this story, what does the little old woman that offered the princess the spindle does, once the princess falls dead? (Because she is dead in this version, a magical death, but dead still). Does she warns everybody and cries for help as in Perrault's version? No! "She was quick to find back the stairs [from which she came in]" and she runs as fast away as she can without warning everybody, because she's not going to get into trouble because of some random girl that wanted to see how to spin.

The whole arrival of the prince is very, VERY unprincely and part of the joke. (Well it is a king here but I'm going to call him "prince" so as to not lose people). So he is hunting, right, and his hunting falcon enters the countryside building in which the king locked up his daughter's corpse. The prince wants to get back his bird, so he knocks - because he believes the house is inhabited. And since nobody answers and he REALLY wants his bird back, he fetches a ladder and is forced to climb up a window like a vulgar thief. And he is royalty, remember.

What is the prince's first interaction with the dead Thalia? Believing she is asleep, he starts talking to her. And since she doesn't answer he kind of shakes her around in trying to wake her up. And then suddenly, realizing she kind of looks good (an that she is visibly not alive anymore), he "does his little business" and promptly puts her back where he found her and leaves. Because he is, like most men in the Pentamerone a stupid horny dog without much morals that has the most sudden and bizarre bursts of sexual desire. Cause again the Pentamerone is a sex comedy.

In fact, in the story of "Sun, Moon and Thalia", the prince is MEANT to come off as quite stupid. He is stupid. First off he didn't get that Thalia was dead when he saw her. Then, as soon as he leaves the funeral-house, it is said he "forgot all about this adventure". Like literaly, he forgets all about it - and only suddenly remembers it randomly when Thalia wakes up. (The narration itself highlights the randomness of the events - the fact the prince remembers Thalia is random and for no reason, and in the same way there are two fairies that randomly appear out of nowhere to take care of the two babies and we are never explained anything about them - they even frighten poor awakened Thalia because she doesn't know who brings her magically food every day). When he sees back Thalia, he is all joyful and happy and he is like "Let's start a family! I'm a dad, woohoo!" ; and then the narration drops the bomb that nothing had foreshadowed: "Now, his wife was waiting for him back at the palace." The randomness of dropping the fact he has a wife is meant to be the joke, since we were led to believe he was a bachelor. But given the prince's tendency to forgetfulness it is very likely that he simply forgot he had a wife.

More of the prince's obvious stupidity and air-headedness. On one side how he betrays Thalia and her children's names to his wife - because he just can't stop repeating and singing their names out loud, day and night, even when eating or sleeping, due to how silly-happy he is. On the other, the reason why he is absent while his wife tortures Thalia: he got angry at a comment of hers, and because he was furious, he literaly had to go to ANOTHER LAND just to vent his anger. Literaly, he leaves his palace and moves to another of his domain just because he got pissy. And why did he get pissy? Because his wife kept ironically singing to him "Eat, because what you eat belongs to you" when she served him his "children" - and the stupid prince, unable to understand what she meant, literaly answers "Of course it belongs to me: I'm the bread-winner of the family, while you're doing nothing and bringing nothing to the house". [Which by the way, highlights the fact that in this couple, the wife is depicted as profiting off the king's wealth and power].

Speaking of the dinner around the fake "children": this meal is another sex joke. Because the two of them, the wife and husband, are "panting with desire" around the dishes, and keep singing stuff like "Oh that's good, oh that's good!" and "Come on, eat, come on eat!" making it all an erotic scene. A ridiculous, grotesque, perverse erotic scene around what one character believes to be a cannibalistic meal, while the other just very loudly appreciates good meat.

When the queen tries to have Thalia killed, Thalia tries to defend herself by the fact she didn't know of the queen's existence, and that any sexual thing that happened between her and the prince was in her sleep - which the queen of course does not believe because of how ridiculous it all seems. I mean you catch who you believe is your husband's lasting extra-marital mistress and what is her excuse? "Oh no you see, he made me my kids when I was asleep. Well kind of dead. I didn't know. No he did not wake me up. I didn't wake up either when the kids were born. I'm a really deep sleeper. And it was because of a splinter you see..." Literaly, imagine yourself in the place of the jealous queen hearing all that.

Thalia gains time on her execution by asking the permission to remove her clothes, and the queen accepts, but as a joke she accepts out of greed because she literaly wants to take back Thalia's dress and jewels for herself. And each time Thalia removes a piece of her clothes, she screams. She screams in hope of alerting the prince. But since the prince is far away, he doesn't hear until the very last scream. Meaning that Thalia literaly strips herself in front of the queen, while screaming every time she takes off a piece of clothing, to visibly no effect (which must leave the poor queen quite confused), and it is only when Thalia gets naked and pushes the final scream that the prince suddenly arrive. You can imagine Thalia going: "FINALLY! I've been screaming for hours now!" (especially when you consider how much pieces of clothing princesses wore at the time).

Literaly one of the threats the prince gives to his wife is "Get ready to go fatten up the broccolli". As a metaphor for being dead and buried underground. Tip-top manly threat. In fact the prince is here quite proficient in ridiculous poetic metaphors: when the cook reveals he saved his children, the prince says "Get ready to move out of the small kitchen of my castle to the vast kitchen of my heart."

And of course the final "moral" of the story is also part of the entire farcical joke that is this story. "People who are lucky receive good fortune, even in their sleep". You literaly have a girl who is randomly raped in her sleep and gives birth to children in her dead-sleep, and then is almost murdered by the rapist' wife... And THAT'S the moral of the story? If you take it all literaly, then you are a fool. Or at least Basile would have called you a fool.

Again, people tend to forget that when it comes to literary fairytales (but also a lot of folk-fairytales) there is a TONE that is important. It is the brothers Grimm and other collectors after them that imposed the idea that fairytales were meant to be read "seriously". A lot, LOT of fairytales were originally humoristic - even going into dark humor or sex comedy. And whenever you go by Straparola or Basile, you HAVE to look at them under the angle of a joke or humor, and search for the puns and caricatures and ridiculousness within these tales. Because these books were meant to be read as such. They are like Rabelais' Gargantua or Shakespeare's comedies. You can of course reinterpret them as "serious" tales... But it won't remove the fact the original was humoristic.

#sleeping beauty #dark fairytale #thalia the sun and the moon #sun moon and thalia #thalia sun and moon #basile #pentamerone #italian fairytales #fairytale history #humoristic fairytale #sex jokes #sexuality in fairytales

[bookcub]

Hii, I'm currently making my way through a pretty heavy 13 book fantasy series rn and in the lookout for some novellas to break it up. I was wondering if you had any recommendations?

Oh yeah, sure no problem!!

A Spindle Splintered by Alix E Harrow is like is the mutiverse of Sleeping Beauty and very fun and friendship focused! Pretty fast paced as well

P. Djeli Clark has three novellas that are set in 1912 Cairo. I only read his full length novel, but everyone else claims the novellas are even better. There's an investigator of magic and she solves and prevents crime! First one is A Dead Djinn in Cairo

I'm not super into scifi, but if you want very soft scifi with low stress, Becky Chambers is known for her work. A Psalm for the Wild-Built is a human and robot discussing philosophy for most of it.

Of course, any of the Wayward Children series by Seanan McGuire is a series of related books about children who travel to magic lands and then travel back to their first homes. These have a loose order to them but many can be read as standalones. Every Heart a Doorway is the first one.

I haven't read Binti by Nnedi Okorafor in forever but I remember really enjoying it! It's a hard scifi tale set in space!

Even Though I Knew the End by CL Polk is a noir esque fantasy novella that's very mysterious and has an interesting tone.

Hope this is a good list to start! I find graphic novels also helpful breaks if you need any of recs for those, let me know!

#my book recs #alexfireon

[searchingforserendipity25]

Hi! For the worldbuilding prompts, Galadriel + weaving or fabric crafts? — @emyn-arnens

I am so sorry this too so long @emyn-arnens! I wrote a reply to this and was a bit bashful about it (I suspect crimes against fiber craft techniques have been committed), but I'm finally posting it. Thanks so much for the ask <3

nerwen was very young, when first she asked her father to teach her how to work the wheel. 

-

this is a child desirous of learning, earwën of the teleri had laughed, when first she beheld her daughter: little nerwen had eyes like an owl, colourless and wide, watchful as she was cradled, tracking every movement and every sound. 

so it was, as she grew; artanis, her mouth pursed, her eyes hungry. earwën held great mastery in the art of the needle, from the making of nets to the impossibly delicate filigree, so thin water gathered in fine drops along the curls and curves of her designs. 

nerwen learned lacemaking from her, and from her aunts and cousins, and most of all from her grandmother, the great master and creator of the art.

the queen of the falmari worked with a hundred pins and hundred bobbins at once, her mind a mathematical marvel; and from a very young age nerwen had been sat beside her, taught how to shape her own thoughts and hands to the creation of a design. 

but the noldor dwelt in far tírion, were beset always by the cool winds that rose from túna; and so too did earwën and arafinwë dwell there often. the garments to be worn in the high city were thicker than the shifting, patterned sea-silks and bold linens of alqualondë; for the weavers of the noldor worked with wool, in the fashion of serinde, the dead queen. 

sewing was a more ancient technique than lace-making, and weaving older than either. it was the way of the noldor, that every maiden go about with their satchel of flax over a shoulder, and at every spare moment be spinning or flashing their long, long needles.

nerwen learned all she could of it, and rhetoric, the arts and the sciences, those fashionable for maidens and those most unlikely. from her father, as well, she learned much - the saw and the varnish, how to speak with living wood and make peace with dead boughs, so they might be of use again. 

 arafinwë’s craft was of making, as most of his kinsmen; but he was a petty and whimsical maker, not taken with great seriousness by any quarter in particular. less learned than his half-brother, and content with his own unglorious projects, and with making certain the projects he showed the world were so few and without distinction that none would be very curious about his craft. 

that was as he preferred. arafinwë, it was said then even by the kind, lacked a great spark of brilliance. nerwen knew the truth, even as a child: her father was wise enough not to cast too much of himself as kindling to make it into a great fire.

his concern was with the things that existed already, and those he held dear; chairs for elenwë's rest as she nursed, clever games for his children. the repairing of old heirlooms and great pieces, and of small things besides: mending the cracks of miniatures, repairing the small link of a small chain. cleaning tarnish and rust, inventing new and simpler mechanisms to repair an old engine. 

from an early age, his daughter chafed at the pretense at humility, but even in her most high-minded years she did not disdain the small wonders he did build, sometimes, for those he loved.

nerwen’s spindle was of rosewood and gold, slow to warm to her touch, perfectly balanced, well-fitted to the hands her small fingers grew into, perfectly fitted to her grasp. her father had built it for her. so too he made her first wheel from the bare bones of new timbers, and metal he worked himself in the forge.

strange were the ways of the house of the king, even among the noldor. nerwen knew this, too - for there was no ancient machine, or spindle, or row of needles to repair, and pass down as inheritance. queen indis did not spin, or sew, or spin; and all the old wheels of the palace had belonged to míriel, crafted by the king to his first queen. none touched them that did not wish prince fëanáro’s wrath. 

in the evening, when her tutors sent her away from the books and evaded her endless questions, nerwen sat by the fountains with her friends. they spun fine wool as they chatted about their lessons and their first fledgling projects, flirting with new crafts and with each other, graceless and coy, laughing swiftly, trying to get the passing swifts and robins to sit on their heads and shoulders for a little while.

and at night, narwen crept through the narrow, secret corridors that bound her father’s house to the king’s palace.

upwards and onwards, through hidden places, reciting prayers to vairë as she went, and crept, and pried open the ancient doors to the closed quarters of the dead queen.

 she ran her hands through the strong frame, still as smooth and glossy as her grandfather had first made it, when the possibility of her life had been nothing in the rightful course of things. from her satchel she brought out the flax she always carried, and setting aside her father’s latest spindle, she sat herself in the bench.

míriel’s wheel was the best of such machines in tírion, but old-fashioned. much better did nerwen love her father’s work! 

but the wood remembered. indis was the best of dancers, and a great singer, and a fine painter, but she did not spin, and taught nothing of that art to the maidens of her house - and so findis did not spin, and lalwen did not; and írissë's craft was for leather and enchantments only.

artanis laid her hands and her claim upon míriel’s wheel. it spoke to her - lent her the cold feeling of cold hands on hers, teaching how to bind work and mind to the same end. the keen memory of mastery, guiding her movements in a small haunting.

nerwen was desirous of learning always, from all the best teachers. no prince would sever her from the perfecting of her crafts; fëanáro’s wrath never found her, but from a young age she loathed him wholly, for it was a thing judged foul and ungenerous, by the falathrim and the noldor alike, to hoard a great treasure away from any grateful eyes.

#asks #galadriel #earwen #finarfin #feanor #miriel #silm fic #my fics #tolkien fanfiction

[spindle-and-nima]

STOP

#PLEASE #up to NO good #he knows where my laptop charger is #CRIMINAL #bunblr #bunnies of tumblr #spindle #spindle crimes

[ask-horror-ds]

Does anyone have any Christmas plans, or anything special they’re hoping for for Christmas?

Sparrow, how’s Champion? Tell him he’s a good boy for me!

Sparrow: Well, I can tell you that some of us aren't making any Christmas plans, given they'll be spending the holidays in max security.

Sparrow: But I do plan on giving them something. Probably nothing more than some holiday foods. Cookies, doughnuts...depends on their preference.

~~

Pluto: Where the FUCK did you come from??

Slash: What do you think we even could do? Are you blind? We're in a cell.

Byte: We were going to commit some holly jolly crimes, but apparently Sparrow doesn't want us to have a fun Christmas.

Pluto: JR continues to be run by stuck up, bitchy, boring birds.

Byte: How much more alliteration can you get in there?

Pluto: Bite me.

Byte: No, Byte me. You Pluto.

Pluto: i'm gonna strangle you

~~

Gouge: ...I don't celebrate.

Gouge: I don't really care.

Gouge: Sometimes if my coworkers drag me to celebrate with them I'll put on their dumb hats but that's it

Gouge: Why does everyone wear a stupid hat for the holidays? Fucking children.

~~

Delusion: Ah, I never really celebrated any winter holidays. Or any others, for that matter. I was always too busy.

Delusion: I don't see the point in honoring a god that doesn't help their people, anyhow.

~~

Hunter: Oh. Er...sort of?

Hunter: I...want to make some yummy deserts, but I think...well, something- something usually goes wrong every year.

Orange: Tell them it's your dead brother. You know, the one you killed? Go on, Blue. Tell them.

Hunter: ...It's...generally the same something.

Hunter: I try my best to work around it, but it's not...I can't really prevent it.

~~

Spindle, wrapping his arm around Sparrow's shoulder: We're going to do Christmas and Chanukah.

Sparrow, rolling his eyes, amused: Spindle found out that doughnuts were a tradition Chanukah food and decided to buy about twenty boxes of them.

Pulaski, chuckling: We had to give some away.

Pulaski: The children were happy to help take them off our hands.

Spindle: It was totally worth it.

Pulaski, chuckling: Well, anyways; I'd like to make a nice dinner for everyone. It doesn't have to be holiday specific, if I make something we can all eat, I think.

Pulaski: It'd be nice to make a traditional side dish for both holidays. Desert, too. I think that'd make it even better.

Spindle: Sparrow and I still have to figure out how to, like, combine stuff so it's not weird or insensitive or whatever.

Spindle: ...I'm also hoping I won't burst into flames trying to participate, too.

Sparrow, kissing Spindle's cheek: Oh, don't worry; we'll just douse you in eggnog if that happens.

Sparrow: Oh, and Champion's doing alright. Aren't you, Champ?

Champion: Happy barks and excited tail wags

Sparrow, smiling: Good boy.

#horror!ds #Horror!DreamSwap #H!DS Pluto #H!DS Slash #H!DS Byte #H!DS Gouge #H!DS Delusion #H!DS Hunter #H!DS Sparrow #H!DS Spindle #H!DS Pulaski

[lordgrimoire]

From the Exclusion Zone: Report 3.1

(Personnel Note from Red Hood: “I have the urge to murder the hell out of these Ghost Investigation Ward dudes, reasons below”)

Amity Park: Report on Residents Interactions with Ghosts and the GIW

So, lets get this done shall we? The residents of Amity Park are sturdy folk, most can duke it out with the normal Ghosts that come through to our side of things on the regular and as such You’d think that casualties would be low whenever a Ghost Fight happens right? Wrong.

The final Amity Park Police Department report reads as follows.

To Mayor Masters,

I understand the need for the GIW, truly I do, but we feel safe with Phantom alone, and besides, the GIW cause Massive amounts of collateral damage whenever deployed, worse than any Fenton involved operation, hell I’d rather have the Fentons on the force just to prevent the GIW from being in town.

In the last month alone the GIW have destroyed four businesses, disrupted lessons at ALL of our schools, placed FOUR OF MY DEPUTIES in critical condition and have interfered with emergency Services. We have also had to eject GIW Agents from the Hospital a total of FOUR HUNDRED TIMES in the last month, and don’t even get me started with the Home Invasions without warrants.

And the final nail, Phantom, who might I add is a child ghost has come to me with concerns of corruption, admittedly I attempted to arrest him as is the law with the Anti-Ecto Acts your oh so proud of, but he evaded capture. 

Lastly, I would like to report I am mustering up support from the Town to muster seventeen new Officers to assist in dealing with the increased crime rate that we seem to be suffering since the Exclusion Zone got set up. I will also be trying to send this report to other Sheriffs, Police Departments, Etc. out of town and county, maybe that will end this madness.

Vlad, it’s been THREE YEARS, I’m tired of this siege, don’t you think it’s time to end. 

Captain George Oliver Wrathum 

Suffice to say, this is one of many documents I acquired from a Officer in hiding. Who last saw his shift mates getting picked up by GIW agents at “The Spindle” a cop bar that is currently abandoned, I found the owner who is currently comatose in the hospital for head trauma. 

I have made contact with some Ghosts since my last report, will send report when ready, assistance call stands.

#The Amity Park Exclusion Zone AU #dp x dc #dc x dp #jason todd #red hood #dcxdp #dpxdc

[option-monad]

@d--t more fibre crimes, i have made þe worlds shittiest loom out of some pins and a pillow

þis works a lot worse þan þe spindle and had some þread tensioning issues but once i re-pinned it and stopped yanking þe warp like i was guillotining robespierre it was honestly fairly consistent. i was looking at a backstrap loom for reference but ended up wiþ kind of a sideways inkle. i might try making an actual inkle soon :Y

[thedaremaster]

The Yarn Spinner - Snippet

Might write a full thing of this. I really hope to, but I've got a draft to finish and so many more to start. Please enjoy this snippet from another Instagram prompt. (I forgot what it was) ;((((

She sat there at her loom, working furiously at the nearly-finished piece.  The shuttle slides back and forth between the threads, interlacing fibers before they are stacked together neatly with a quick pull of the reed.  She works fast, heedless of mistakes.  

The end is near, she knows it. 

 She’s seen the newspaper articles portraying their deaths, graphic and disturbing.  She can’t count the nights those horrifying pictures had stolen from her.  Fear became sleep’s greatest enemy.  

Why does she feel fear?  She wonders.  Everyone dies at some point.  She doesn’t wish to end like this.  She’s still young.  A full life ahead of her.  But alas, the devil doesn’t discriminate. 

She remembers Thirdy, blonde and joyous, like a bard from the old nations, singing tales of victory.  Tabitha, somber and thoughtful, her pieces questioned life and its meanings and the pondering of a human spirit.  Old Man William, with his one eye spectacle, writing stories since he was a young lad, encased with the wisdom he had gained over the years.  The list went on and on.  

Now, they’re all gone.  And she was left.  

Quinn, the one destined to spin the yarns.  She told stories not through a pen but with a loom and a spindle.   Her tapestries are a different kind of parchment/ medium.  But she was to end the same way as the rest of them.  

She couldn’t help but weep, tears falling from her eyes onto the colorful threads below.  It was finished.  She cut the thread and took out her final work.  

Death was near her door.  

She wraps it up quickly and hands it off to Maddy Lady, her beloved Lady-in-Waiting- (For our dear Quinn was a duke’s daughter, ironic how not even the guards could save her from her fate).  The girl ducks out the window, tossing the tapestry before jumping out as well,  falling onto the soft cloth below.  She picks it up and runs into the night, street oil lamps lighting her path as Quinn watches forlornly from her dimly-lit room until the shadows of an alleyway swallow her up.  

Wind blows through the open window, catching her curls and tugging at them, whilst drying the tears on her face.  Playful still, even with her end so close.  She hears his footsteps before she sees him.  She turns to face her murderer, the Author.  All the stories she’s heard of him come right back to her.

There’s no way to escape him.

He plays his game like he’s God.

In a way he is.

He controls your very being, your very life.

I’m sorry, she thinks, that the story you were a part of wasn’t one you were satisfied with.

But it gives you no right to do this.  

Dark eyes flash as if she had spoken her thoughts aloud and for a moment Quinn wonders if this mysterious killer is actually a woman.

A gloved hand reveals a gun beneath the robes, poised and ready.  A pointer finger held steadily over the trigger.  

Thirdy had been hanged.

Tabitha had been poisoned.

Old William stabbed.

Such an unromantic way to die, she couldn’t help but lament.

This whole time, dread had gripped the young girl.  But now, face-to-face with death, fear’s slimy grip falls away and she squares up to meet the Author.  Chin up.  Shoulders back.  Never let them see it.  

She remembers her friends.  

Smiling and laughing.

Thoughtful and curious.

Ancient and wise.

Their stories all wrapped in her blanket.  Hidden, safe.  Til Maddy Lady released it to the publishers and the aftermath would be so profound that all this bastard’s crimes would pale in comparison.  

She meets those eyes, one last time.

She knows now they can hear her.

So she screams in her mind,

One last line.

You can never keep us silent.

*gunshot

#angst #writing #creative writing #thedaremasterwrites #anger #thedaremaster #writers on tumblr #originalwork #original character #original #female writers #write #writers and poets #ao3 writer #writeblr #writerscommunity #writerscreed #my writing #snippet #writing snippet #writing wip #thedaremasteroriginalworks #thedaremasterdoesinstagramprompts #instagram #instagramprompts

[breathofthebloodlily]

asdar, 7, 12, 18, 19

7 (What attribute of them (some facet of their personality, their history, their look, or whatever etc) would you find most important to somehow preserve if they were transplanted to an AU fanfic?)

I think the absolute Core elements are his alignment with creation and his protective/healer side. I would argue him being a Follower and a service person are also pretty crucial, but with very tailored circumstances I could see him handling a leader role--but let's be real, he'd still do it in a service way.

12 (Has your character committed any crimes (per their universe's laws)? If not, which crime would your character most likely commit?)

From the his birth to the middle of the story, Probably Not. After the middle, well, technically, he's infiltrated a country and destroyed some shit so by Their standards he'd count as a criminal lol but if you forget that part. Frankly he's such a Good Boy (TM) that it's hard to imagine him breaking the law but he Would do it for a good cause. Hiding someone innocent from law enforcement etc

18 (If your character were trapped on a deserted island, what three things would they want to have with them? Which person would they absolutely hate to be trapped there with? Which person would they enjoy being trapped there with?)

A good knife, some kind of fiber animal, and preferably at least One good fabric to turn into shelter. He'd handle himself fine with that, although making needles from scratch would be a pain. Spindles etc he can make with that knife.

He would feel safest being with Kheritt or his mother, and keeping Major Antagonists or his abusers aside, he wouldn't want to be with 22. Not that 22 would be a bad survival option, but he wouldn't feel safe alone with him.

19 (Does your character having any health issues, whether they're aware of them or not?)

Not that I know of, no

#asdarposting

[faewitchsdeities]

𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌

𝕺𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊(𝖘): Frigga, Friia, Frixx, Frija, Fricka

𝕲𝖔𝖉 𝖔𝖋: Fertility, motherhood, marriage, love, beauty

𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖉𝖆𝖞(𝖘): Friday (named after her 'Friiasday', Yule

𝕽𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘: Daughter of Fjorgyn, one of the first gods, Wife of Odin, and mother of Baldr, Hodr, and Hermod. Was unfaither to Odin via some other dudes but I don't know who they are.

𝕰𝖓𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖊𝖘: Loki

𝕾𝖞𝖒𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖒-

𝕬𝖓𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖑(𝖘): Cat, goose, raven, hawk, swallows, falcons, boars, dogs

𝕺𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗: spinning wheel, spindle, hearth, spun wool, brisingamen necklace, coat of feathers, chariot lead by dogs, domestic arts, marriage, mothers, crown, distaff

𝕮𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗(𝖘): Blue, aqua, white, ivory, silver, grey, green

𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙: Air

𝕻𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖊𝖙: Venus

𝖅𝖔𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖈𝖘: All of em

𝕾𝖎𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖗 𝕲𝖔𝖉𝖘: Hera

𝕺𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘- kindness and work, aiding others; especially women and children, keeping a clean home and altar.

𝕳𝖊𝖗𝖇𝖘/𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖘: Alder Birch Elder Feverfew Fir Hawthorn Lady's mantle Mistletoe Rose Shepherd's purse Spindle tree Lilly of the valley Thyme

𝕱𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖘: Chocolates Cookies & caraway cakes soaked in cider Eggnog Fruit Honey Lightly fruity wines Mead Milk Nuts Pastries Pork Riesling Spiced cider Strawberries Turkey

𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘/𝖈𝖗𝖞𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖘/𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖘: Amber Copper Emerald Gold Moonstone Rose quartz Silver 𝕺𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗: Norse style spindle, white wool (spun/carded), spinning equipment, old fashioned keys, keeping area clean and tidy, textiles made for her, jewelry, perfume, incense, candles, cat and dog figures

𝕴𝖓𝖛𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Helps mothers and children, making peace between warring members of a group, cleaning your/someone else's house, fertility, marriage spells, heaven, proper house keeping, domestic situations, abundance, crafts, farming.

𝕬𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊: Usually seen as a decently well endowed woman with lower back length golden hair. I see her most often shown in a white dress, and I assume she has blue or maybe green eyes.

𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖊/𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘: ~The promoter of marriage and fertility, some depict her as a weeping and loving mother and wife, while others stress her loose morals. She sits beside Odin's fabulous throne Hildskialf, where they together view the nine worlds, although she is all-knowing, she reveals nothing of the future to anyone. She was born of Fjorgynn and is the mother to three sons, The queen of Asgard, and dwells often in a place called Fensalir "FenHalls" -She has three attendants- 1. Hlin (Protectress) Her guardian 2. Gna (Goddess of fullness) the one who runs errands for her on the flying, sea treading horse Hofuarpnir (hoof thrower/kicker) 3. Fulla (Bountiful) the one who tends to her footwear and other clothes, wearing a golden headband -Her son Baldr kept having foreboding dreams of his own death, so she took an oath from fire, water, iron and all metals, stones, and earth, trees, plants, sicknesses and poisons, all four footed beasts, birds, and creeping things that they would never hurt the beloved god. Everything except mistletoe who was too young and harmless to even understand. Loki disguised himself as an old woman and tricked Frigg into telling him about the mistletoe, she said "East of Valhalla is a plant called mistletoe; it seemed to me to young to wear." Loki took a twig from the plant and made it into a dart, then telling Baldr's blind brother Hodr to throw it at him, it pierces the god's skin and he fell to the ground leaving the god's speechless before they began to weep bitterly. Some say that they had a funeral for him on a Pyre ship, Nanna accompanying him, but others say Frigg persuaded all gods, animals, plants to say that they wanted the god back. His life was restored and Frigg repaid them with kisses. Either way, Loki was then locked in a cave as punishment for his crime -this is where he waits for the Doom of the Gods, aka Ragnarock.

#witchy #witch #witchcraft #norse witch #norse #norse gods #norse paganism #norse mythology #frigg #grimoire #book of shadows #Frigga #Friggr #Wife of Odin

[mediaevalmusereads]

A Wizard's Guide to Defenseive Baking. By T. Kingfisher. Red Wombat, 2020.

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

Genre: YA fantasy

Series: N/A

Summary: Fourteen-year-old Mona isn’t like the wizards charged with defending the city. She can’t control lightning or speak to water. Her familiar is a sourdough starter and her magic only works on bread. She has a comfortable life in her aunt’s bakery making gingerbread men dance.

But Mona’s life is turned upside down when she finds a dead body on the bakery floor. An assassin is stalking the streets of Mona’s city, preying on magic folk, and it appears that Mona is his next target. And in an embattled city suddenly bereft of wizards, the assassin may be the least of Mona’s worries…

***Full review below.***

Content Warnings: blood, violence

Overview: This book is my book club's December pick. I was a little apprehensive about picking it up because I did not enjoy my experience with Kingfisher's Paladin's Grace, but I did want to give the author another shot and tried to go in with good faith. After reading this novel, I think I can say that Kingfisher's work just isn't for me. Though I liked A Wizard's Guide more than Paladin's Grace and I think there were a lot of good things happening in this book, Kingfisher's humor/writing style simply doesn't resonate with me, so for that reason, this book only gets 3.5 stars.

Writing: Kingfisher's prose is definitely aimed at younger readers, which is appropriate given that this book is YA. The author tells a little more than she shows and lays things out for readers who, because of their age/reading level, need a but more scaffolding. Again, this isn't bad, but if you are an adult reading YA, it's worth keeping in mind who the audience is.

The humor in this book also seems to be aimed at a younger audience (which again, isn't bad, but the style just isn't for me). I felt like most of the humor could be described as "quirky" or "awkward," and occasionally, it felt like Kingfisher was using the "loud = funny" type of humor. Some people might find this delightful and light-hearted, so I want to stress that this critique is only my subjective interpretation.

There are, however, a few criticisms I can make that have to do with craft. For one, I think Kingfisher can get a little repetitive with word choice. The example that sticks out most is how multiple characters call Mona "girl"; while one character doing it can indicate a speech pattern, two or three characters doing it feels irritating.

For two, I think this book relies on our main character waiting around, which sometimes works and sometimes feels slow. Mona doesn't really want to be a hero, which is fine, but it also means that she has to rely on a lot of other people making decisions for her. I guess one could argue that it's age appropriate - Mona is only fourteen, after all - but I prefer stories where our protagonist takes a little more initiative.

Plot: The plot of this book follows fourteen year old Mona, a wizard who has "baking magic" and finds herself entangled in a string of murders after finding a corpse in her bakery. Mona is originally accused of being the perpetrator because all murders thus far are surrounded by some kind of magic aura; however, Mona quickly learns that the killer isn't a wizard - they are going after wizards, and Mona seems to be next on their list.

The parts I liked most in this plot were moments when Mona receives some new insight regarding how the world works. One of these insights is regarding class; Mona teams up with a 10 year old boy named Spindle, and Spindle is instrumental in helping Mona navigate the world of poverty. Mona is very clearly middle class and believes the constables ("law enforcement") are there to protect her. However, Spindle reveals that different classes of people are treated in different ways, and Mona comes to realize that though lower class people commit crimes (like theft and smuggling), a lot of law-breaking is done in order to survive.

Kingfisher also provides commentary when she writes about things like wizards being on a "registry" or the government failing its citizens ("slapping a medal on someone means you don't have to ask questions or fix what went wrong"). Having magic users as a metaphor for an oppressed group isn't new, but I think combined with the class commentary above, Kingfisher comes pretty close to some kind of intersectional message. The insight into what constitutes "heroism" and how the government fails veterans is also pretty good, and I think Kingfisher deserves credit for the effort and for making these complicated topics more accessible for younger readers.

Still, there were some things that felt a little weak. For example, the whole plot with the Spring Green Man felt a little insignificant, especially once we move from the murder part of the story to the political part. Once we figure out who the Spring Green Man is working for, he becomes something of a non-issue, and even when he does pop up again, his motivations feel petty.

I also think the political plot was uncovered a bit too cleanly, but this could be a necessity given that the book is YA. Our characters don't really need to do any investigation or fact finding to figure out what political forces are at work; they mostly make an educated guess and are pretty spot on (to the point where our antagonist doesn't even deny it). Personally, I would have liked this plot to be a bit more complex, but again, I understand this book is for younger readers.

Characters: Mona, our protagonist, reminded me a lot of the quirky, awkward Disney/Pixar heroine in that Kingfisher takes great pains to make her seem "relatable." Mona is scatter-brained, reluctant to act, and a little impulsive, and I wavered between liking her and being annoyed by her.

Spindle, the 10 year old thief, is somewhat enduring, but I think I would have liked him better if there had been a sense of real connection between him and Mona. To me, it felt like the two were thrown together by circumstance, and though they cared about what happened to the other, the tone of this book meant that their interactions all felt very surface level.

Supporting characters were fine. The Duchess was interesting in that she was willing to admit her faults, even to children (which is something we rarely see people do in fiction). Members of the guard were sympathetic and the citizens of the city were admirable for their loyalty and sense of community.

Perhaps my favorite supporting characters were Bob the sourdough starter and the nameless gingerbread man who rides on Mona's shoulder. These characters stole the show whenever they were "on screen," and I swear I would read more books about their adventures.

The only characters I didn't quite like were the antagonists, and only because I thought they were under-utilized (as I explained above).

TL;DR: A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking is a light, fun YA fantasy that does a good job making complicated things like class, heroism, and government responsibility accessible to a younger audience. While I am not personally a fan of Kingfisher's prose and humor, I think there's a lot in this book to like, especially the goofy baking antics and the scene-stealing baked good familiars.