#Run application

[deepixeriii]

Their love language is physical touch

[keymintt]

superbloom

[felassan]

(๑•ᴗ•๑) if your Dragon Age elf OCs were elves that had manifested from being spirits rather than elves that had been born, what kind of spirit would they each have been?

[kidovna]

happy pride to all the lesbians stuck in time in the subway and bisexual women destined to save them!

Bonus:

[shaadowmilkcookie]

staff you cant be saying tha- blinking? blinking that??

[alexpdcl]

y'all ever think about them and feel a little warm and runny inside

[sforzesco]

I love how much Lucullus can't stand Pompey, and also this

Pompey the Great: A Political Biography, Robin Seager

with something from this thrown in for extra flavor

Crassus and Pompey, on the other hand, ridiculed Lucullus for giving himself up to pleasure and extravagance, as if a luxurious life were not even more unsuitable to men of his years than political and military activities.

Plutarch, Lucullus

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app / tip jar!

[animatedjen]

Hello! I just wanted to say that I absolutely love all your Jedi photo mode pictures! It's been really cool to learn from you and your process. I had started to play around with the photo mode and I was mildly interested, but I understand it so much better after visiting your blog. I've tried to apply what I've learned and I think my photos have turned out SO much better, and I'm having so much more fun with it! Thanks for sharing all your beautiful pictures and tips!

I'm glad you're having more fun with photomode!! And glad to hear my tips have been helpful :) Earlier this week someone on Twitter said "I just wish Jedi Survivor had more longevity" and sure, we aren't adding any DLC or live service stuff to the base game. But I think virtual photography really extends the gameplay and allows you to capture your own experience as Cal Kestis. It's something unique to the Jedi series that other Star Wars shows/movies can't offer.

There's definitely a learning curve, and it helped me a lot to see other people's photos when I was first starting. Turns out most IRL lighting techniques actually work in this digital space (kudos to the Respawn developers!) and that's made a huge difference in my own work. Feel free to ask any specific questions and I'll try to explain best I can!

[wafflesrisa]

Lift and coast: the facts

Too much misinformation on this hellsite. In reality, there are two publicly confirmed facts:

Both Charles and Carlos were told to LICO, not just Charles

Charles was running behind Carlos and so was susceptible to dirty air from Carlos’ car. From an engineering perspective this guaranteed that Charles’s brakes would overheat faster than Carlos’. Therefore Charles was told to LICO more often than Carlos

Therefore: Charles had to lift and coast more than Carlos did, but this was purely from an application of the laws of physics, not due to any team favouritism or sabotage

[maisdarkredbow]

Best firewind summer fanart ever 🔥🔥🔥

[outofangband]

TÚRIN LEVEL DAY

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

Minato has a bad habit.

…Minato has a number of bad habits, but there’s one in particular that’s relevant to the current predicament and that he really ought to work on, because things like this happen more often than he’d like to admit.

‘Things like this’ meaning that Minato will find himself apparently possessed by the ghost of an anthropologist, which compels him into allowing bad situations to become worse while he passively observes.

Junpei and Ryoji had almost certainly been doing A Bit about the possibility of girls coming out to bathe this late at night, unaware of their group’s presence.

Unfortunately, they had also been tempting fate– with all the manga Junpei reads, he really ought to have known that joking like that made it basically inevitable for a group of girls to actually appear. And to truly maximize the hubris/disaster ratio, of course it would be nothing less than this specific group of girls: one for whom they’re all– with the exception of Ryoji– fully aware of the combat capabilities they possess.

Junpei had started panicking immediately, while Ryoji hadn’t seemed to grasp the severity of the situation right away. Sanada had only been irritated at first, but upon hearing Mitsuru’s voice he’d become as alarmed as Junpei. Aragaki–

Aragaki might be sleeping through the whole crisis, actually. As soon as they had settled into the water he had immediately propped himself up against one of the taller rock formations and tugged his hat over his eyes, and he hasn’t said a word since. Minato had thought he was only pretending to doze off as a pretense to avoid participating in any conversation, but now he isn’t so sure.

And Minato himself, for reasons his own mind has not seen fit to illuminate, continues to sit back and allow the spirit of academic curiosity to say ‘well, let’s see where they’re going with this.’

Junpei and Ryoji look desperately to Sanada for guidance. Sanada lays out the goal of tonight’s operation: make their escape without being seen.

Aragaki suddenly lets out an explosively judgemental sigh.

So apparently he had been faking sleep, after all.

Without uncovering his eyes, he raises one hand above the upper edge of the rocks and waves.

There’s a chorus of surprised exclamations from the girls and a brief rattle that sounds suspiciously like Aigis starting to arm herself on reflex.

Aragaki lowers his hand and kneads at his eyes through the fabric of the hat.

He speaks quietly enough that he probably meant the words for his own ears only, but Minato hears him, and evidently Sanada does as well.

Shoving the hat up from his eyes, Aragaki glares incredulously between Sanada and the direction of Mitsuru’s voice.

[exquisitetomarrymortcorpse]

Hello everyone!

This is a secret poll to tentatively sniff out interest for another Exquisite Tomarrymort Corpse next year - Corpse 2024 wraps up in a little over two months (a crazy thing to type 😱), and I’d expect we’d take a blessed one month off before jumping back into things again! 😂

So, just like this year, Corpse 2025 would “start” in March - that’s when we would post the sign-up form, confirm our first and last participants, and do outreach for dates - then officially begin in April (or, in this case, on March 31st!)

To remind everyone, this is what the Exquisite Tomarrymort Corpse is:

An Exquisite Corpse is a game in which each participant adds to a fanfiction in sequence, by being allowed to see only the end of what the previous person contributed. (This does apply to artists as well!)

[dandelion-wings]

Navia and Clorinde both annihilate my enemies, in different but fun ways, and it's devastating to me that there's so little point to putting them on the same team (for the romance)

[nanami-is-nanamean]

Yall. I have. An Idea.

Ignore the cookie run part bUT HEAR ME OUT-- nanago situation

Take my hand, imagine this, walk with me—

So, its been a long week for nanami again. Curses, injuries, people that he was supposed to protect in his missions—assigned sorcerers and civilians alike hurt or injured or worse, long hours, and barely any proper rest. This night is a slow night, a short reprieve before he throws himself back in the line of fire in this endless war against curses, before he drowns himself again in mission reports and obituaries, before the cycle begins again.

He can already feel the tension in his shoulders loosening at the prospect of a long and slow night dedicated to resting and pampering himself. And of course, he does the main thing that relaxes him the most—cooking and baking.

Yes, there's still a lot of work in the process of preparing and making food, but he finds a quiet tranquil in the precise measurements and temperatures of baking. Cooking makes him feel as if he's loosely painting on a canvas. Eitherway, the prep work helps erase the jitters from his muscles and everything he makes always ends up delicious.

Tonight, feeling rather festive and celebratory, nanami decides to make a strawberry shortcake. The light and delicate enough for his sugar averse palette, and enough sweetness to sate his partner's sugar addicted tongue. Everything went perfectly—the cake itself had a beautiful crumble, icing wonderfully light with that faint creamy sweetness, and the assortment of berries he mixed in with the strawberries were delightfully fresh. He places a little chocolate sign that he managed to scrounge together from gojo's sweets stash and... it was perfect.

Nanami should've known however that, if things were too perfect—it was inevitable for everything to come crashing down. Quite literally for his case. As he removed the perfect cake from its makeshift decorating stand, his hands—aching and exhausted from the week, had reached their limit. They trembled and jolted, the unsteady metal surface and motions causing his beautiful creation to topple and fall with a wet splat to the ground.

The world zeroed in at that singular moment in time, senses blocking out everything that wasn't the carefully crafted masterpiece laying on the ground. Shortcake bent in angles that it wasn't supposed to bend, exposing pale yellow crumb that was never supposed to be seen. Cut strawberries and fruit glistening red in the light of his kitchen, strewn and mixed about with the icing. Icing, thick and somehow light all at once, splattered across his shoes and floor.

Hysterically, he thought, it kind of reminds him of a dead body.

Cake as flesh and muscle, exposed to the world. Clumps of icing and berries acting like blood and gore strewn about the floor. In certain areas, where cake and icing peeled away from each other, it reminded him of open wounds—icing serving as both blood and flayed skin.

He worked so hard on it. And there it was. On the floor. So close to the counter and the plate that it was supposed to be on. And yet. It wasn't.

Each berry cut meticulously, to both preserve and bring out its beauty. Icing spread and piped in all manner of different decorations whilst also being wonderful on its own. Beautifully moist and fluffy shortcake, with the perfect texture.

Nothing else mattered in this moment but his wrecked cake.

He hadn't registered the door open, the tired yet cheery greeting of his husband, and the rushed steps of gojos shoes until he was pulled into his chest. And as he was pressed close to his husbands body, he realized that he'd also been crying. "Oh shit, shit, shit—Kento, baby, talk to me. What happened?"

Nanami opened his mouth to speak, only to let out a pathetic little croak. It seems that he also lost track of how long he's been there. Staring at his ruined cake. "Okay, okay," Gojo pulls him away to look into his eyes. Somehow the sight of them makes him sob. For real this time. If earlier, he only had streams of tears falling into his eyes, now nanami crumpled in gojos arms with great gasping sobs, shuddering on each breath. "Oh, fuck—Kento, lovely, talk to me! What happened?! Tell me, please."

At this, the man feels a shame so strong he feels its heat from his ears down to his shoulders. How ridiculous was it—him turning into a weeping mess over a bit of cake? But... it was still his cake. A cake that he put all of the stress and frustration and exhaustion of the week into. A cake that he made to celebrate making it through the week. A cake he made full of love for the two of them.

Gojo's questions were only met with more sobbing as Nanami quieted and hid his face in the crook of his neck. "Shit. Alright. Lemme get you situated on a couch, okay Ken? Your knees must be real tired, yeah?" "But... the cake." Finally, a word from his distraught love. "Yeah? What about the cake, love?" Nanami buried himself harder into his neck, before abruptly pulling away—rubbing a hand down his blotchy, red, tear and snot streaked face. "I— It's just— It's utterly ridiculous and pointless, Satoru. It's nothing."

"What? What is? It can't not be important if you've been sitting here crying all evening? What is it, Kento?" "It's cake. I've just—I've been crying over ruined cake, Satoru. It's utterly childish and ridiculous of me to, so excuse me while I—" "Shhh, none of that." Kento finds himself tackled into his husband's arms, the sheer love and care behind it jostling the cold mask that was settling back into his skin.

Satoru rocks the two of them in place on their floor, a hand rubbing Kento's back and holding him close. He melts into his husband's arms as he did before, a couple more hiccuping breaths escaping his lips. It doesn't matter how long they stay like that, because in Satoru's arms, everything is perfect.

"The cake... it was for us. I, I worked so much on it, so hard on it that—when it fell... I suppose thats when the rest of the week caught up to me." Satoru hummed, Kento feeling that rumble into his chest. "It's ridiculous, isn't it? Its just cake, I might as well be crying over spilled milk but... I made it a strawberry shortcake, because its the only cake we can both agree on. I added other, tarter berries both for myself and to bring out the sweetness of the strawberries. Fuck—I even cut a few of them into shapes and drew on the icing with cake... and now it's just..."

He trails off, no other words able to describe the heavy, hurting numbness in his chest. "I'm so exhausted, Satoru."

Gojo sidles them up to the counter, letting Nanami lean on them as he kissed away what little tears were left on Nanami's face. "I love you so much, Kento. You work so hard." He smiles at him, his expression so tender and Nanami feels something in his chest. Something good. Gojo glances at the fallen cake, and swipes a bit of berries and icing onto his finger. He puts it into his mouth before Nanami can stop him.

Bright and sweet flavors burst onto his tongue, strawberries and cream being the perfect pairing. "Gojo! That's been on the floor! Its dirty, you could get sick!" He laughs him off, putting a stop to his protests with a kiss. "I'll be fine, Ken! Besides, I can just freshen myself up with a bit of RCT if that ever happens!" This time, he kisses him longer, deeper. He hopes it conveys how much he loves and adores this wonderful man. "You worked so hard, and so much. It's not for nothing. The cake is delicious, Ken. We can still eat it."

"Okay... okay. I suppose we can scrape off the parts that touched the floor. There's a bit of extra icing and berries left, I was meaning to make a bit of syrup if it wasn't sweet enough for you. We... We can save this, we can salvage this." A smile graces Kento's beautiful face. "Thank you, Satoru."

He nods in acknowledgement. "Well, I was actually thinking that we just turn the floor into a plate—heck, the whole world must be a giant plate for animals! Might as well see what the buzz is about, ya know?" And finally, a laugh. "Absolutely not, Satoru!"

There they were, two grown men eating cake off the floor—gojo intentionally looking like a rabid raccoon as he did so, and nanami still trying to find some dignity as he picked it off the floor with a fork. And it was perfect.

[whentherewerebicycles]

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