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Gm. gonna spend some time on tony @arcreacter today but also keep working on my secret side project shhhh @eldritcs

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VERY BIG DAY FOR SKAM ENJOYERS

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Buzzy Cohen, Seth Shawky, Miriam Al-Khatib.

@warplanet can reblog.

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“ Okay, a Diet Coke and a big bowl of kashari. ” She laughs, leaning back slightly and letting her legs stretch out in front of her. “ After the day we've had? After the work we've done? We deserve to relax and eat something yummy. ” Miriam beams, then crawls over to sit beside Shawky. He had been her longest friend, her first friend made after her parents moved to the US. Looking back all those years ago, she would have never imagined that they'd end up here, sitting around a dying fire after discovering the final resting place of one of the world's greatest mysteries. She leans her head against his shoulder and sighs quietly, the smile refusing to leave her lips. “ I kind of like being one of the only people who knows. As much as I want to keep it that way, I know we need to share this. All the tablets in there, Shawky — there's so much to learn about him. It would be selfish and cruel to keep it to myself. ” It was the linguist and the historian in her fighting. Luckily for her, with an expertise in both, she'd probably get to spearhead any translation processes and that selfish part of her would get some fulfillment while the selfless part would be excited that she got to make this long lost mystery available to the average person. “ I still can't believe how perfect it all turned out. I half expected to be stuck in that tomb forever with how they booby-trapped everything back then. ”

"dinner, not drinks. i'll take a nice, cold glass of diet coke over anything alcoholic. you know me." with buzzy fast asleep, it's easier to speak with miriam in arabic — it's more comfortable to lull through the language he loves with his best friend... and maybe adds a humorous layer of secrecy to their dialogue in case buzzy does wake up. maybe miriam has something to tell him...? "but this is... this has got to be the greatest discovery of the modern age. the biggest find of the twenty-first century. and here i thought finding one of the lost imperial fabergé eggs was a big deal. this... is even greater." he leans back a little, eyes soft, the features of his face drawn with exhaustion. it was a long day, but a day worth while. "alexander the great," he breathes. "we found him. wait 'til the whole world learns about this. we're going to be heroes, miri." in the tent nearby, shawky hears buzzy let out a small snore. "all three of us," he adds, grinning. "even mr sleepyhead over there. we deserve it." he leans against his friend, beaming at @anoffering. "don't know what i'd do without you or buzzy by my side. there's no one i'd rather work with."

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A soft laugh escapes Conor's lips as Alice's touch his cheek, and he reaches out to rest his fingertips against her elbow. “ I could tell you, if you wanted. ” He starts, eyes falling from her face to the draft she now holds close. It stirs in his chest, a feeling of adoration and pride. If there was to be anyone in the world who understood the words he wrote without any outside influence, it was her. Part of him wanted to leave the plot and intention a mystery — see if she could get it. Conor knew she would, of course. Alice was smart, smarter than anyone he knew. She understood him better than anyone else too, which was arguably one of his favorite parts about her. “ You'll have to let me know what you think of it. Be brutally honest, I'll be able to take it. ” He quietly chuckles, moving to rest his hand against her arm now. “ Yours is the only opinion I care about. ” You're the only one who understands me. “ Sorry about the length. Guess I had lots to say. ”

it's not that alice was unaware of the draft in progress – she pays attention, perhaps a little too much attention, to everything conor tells her – yet it still feels unexpected. of course she'd read it, that was always inevitable. but it's the thought that she'd do so before so many others that's perplexing – no one has ever given her such a privilege before. there's a smile, rare as it may be, as alice takes the draft in hand. it feels like conor is giving her a gift, even if it's not quite that. she feels the need to give him one too in exchange, beaming as she presses a kiss to his cheek. "will you tell me about it before i read, or shall i go in blind?" alice expects she'll pour over it tonight, absorbing every little detail, and read it all over again in the morning. reading anything he's crafted might be the closest she can ever get to reading his mind. she feels uncharacteristically giddy about it all. "i feel like you've given me a secret to keep. at least until it's published." until then, she'll hold onto it dearly, already clutching the pages close.

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something i find really fascinating about christine is her sweet and innocent nature that allows her to be manipulated. she truly had no one looking out for her in the opera house at ALL. what do you mean madame giry knew she was being taught by 'the opera ghost' and never stopped her from talking about it but the second anyone else brought it up she was in their face chastising them and warning them. what do you mean christine told raoul that she was basically being tortured and his response was yes dear it's fine and he basically brushed it off even after he had irrefutable proof that the phantom was real and was in fact harassing her. what do you mean erik was pretending to be HER FATHER and then got upset that she didnt want to marry him after he harassed and stalked her for years (while pretending to be her dead father) despite explicitly offering no interest in him often. what do you mean meg heard about all this and went im jealous i wish that happened to ME!!!!! and in the end, despite all this, christine is still a nice and kind person.

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ANAMARIA VARTOLOMEI as HAYDÉE Le Comte De Monte-Cristo (2024)

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Feeling like.. we should make our muses kiss like barbie dolls

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Some time after Ásgeirr fights and defeats Alduin, he is approached by Fulkaalbo in the mountains near Solitude. After the defeat of the World Eater, he strives for a world where dragons and the people of Skyrim can peacefully coexist, opting to only kill dragons who attack him first. He is a very large bronze colored dragon with eyes of the same color, with the only dragons larger than him being Paarthurnax and Alduin. His name is one he chose himself, which loosely translates to 'so the champion comes' from his native tongue.

Fulkaalbo is very protective of the Dragonborn, and had been known to attack people he deems as a threat to Ásgeirr. He does not know any Tamrielic, so his rider acts as a translator most of the time if one wishes to speak to him.

He is very affectionate with Ásgeirr, often making noises resembling purring when he is pet on his snout. The bond he shares with his rider is so intense that when Ásgeirr decides to die, Fulkaalbo dies with him.

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“ Don't worry about me. ” Easier said than done, he's sure. His collar is sticky with blood, and it feels like even swallowing agitates the wound even more. Gingerly, Ásgeirr presses their finger to the collar of their shirt, which feels crisp to the touch. Then, they're brave enough to touch their actual neck, and the wound isn't quite as severe as anticipated. Thank Akatosh. His fingertip is coated in blood, though, which he wipes on his shirt hopefully before Demetrius sees. He'd wait to inspect it further in whatever inn would take them, where he could hopefully take care of it and calm their collective worries.

Eventually, he pulls back from their embrace — only because if he doesn't do it now, they won't find a place to rest for the night. “ Come, quickly. I know where we can stay. ” The Dead Man's Drink, the place where he practically lived until his mother married Borrhar. If they were lucky, the owner might even let them stay free of charge. “ It isn't far from here. Meyz. ” They pause, moving to support the much larger man with an arm around his shoulders and the other pressed against his stomach, already knowing he'd probably decline help if they offered. “ Fent zu'u bel Shadowmere? ” Their trusty, shadowy steed — a gift from one they once considered a mother. Not anymore. And why should he let such a fine steed go to waste? He turns away from Demetrius and whistles quite loudly, turning to look back at his companion as the black horse appears. “ Get on. I'll guide us. ” Ásgeirr practically commands, waiting until the other gets on the horse's back before they hop on behind him, one hand resting against his waist while the other reaches for the lead. “ We'll get settled, then I'll get us supper. We'll talk about anything but dragonborn nonsense for the evening and rest until you no longer feel tired. ” He anticipates Demetrius might try to bring up his neck, but he's already prepared to deflect it. “ We'll be there soon. I promise. ”

with  asgeirr  holding  him  in  place  ,          keeping  him  upright  ,   demetrius  surrenders  fully  to  this  feeling  of  being  cradled:   puts  as  much  of  his  weight  as  he  dares  into  it  ,   closes  his  eyes  and  stays  quiet  ,   letting  the  shivers  make  their  way  through  him.   he  feels  cold———not  on  the  skin  but  in  his  bones  ,   in  his  chest.   like  there's  something  missing  there  ,   now.   perhaps  its  his  life  ,   which  he  realizes  more  with  every  passing  second  will  never  be  the  same  again.   demetrius  has  just  uprooted  his  entire  world.   every  familiar  thing  he's  ever  yearned  for  will  be  reduced  to  nostalgia  ,   now.   whether  he  likes  it  or  not———this  is  a  rebirth  ,   and  the  sudden  open  air  of  the  world  frightens  him. 

but  asgeirr  is  here  ,   safe  and  familiar.   demetrius  did  this  for  him  ,   and  here  he  stands  ,   a  lighthouse  through  the  clouds.   the  only  thing  that  can  keep  his  family  ,   his  people  ,   this  world  alive.   but  more  importantly  than  that———his  friend.   something  like  that.   the  dragon  brings  his  own  hands  up  into  asgeirr's  hair  ,   clutching  him  ,   reminding  himself  what  he  did  this  for.   but  its  getting  muddy  ,   now.   did  he  do  this  for  the  good  of  the  world  ,   or  just  for  asgeirr  ?   there  is  a  blur  between  the  two.   he  squeezes  his  eyes  tighter  ,   lets  out  a  sad  rumble.             ❛❛   zu'u  laagus.   hi  los  tul  ahraan.   ❜❜               a  heavy  sigh  ,   and  though  his  words  suggest  movement  ,   he  remains  still———cannot  find  it  within  himself  yet  to  pull  away  from  this.   even  so  ,   he  seeks  out  the  common  tongue  ,   hoping  the  extra  thought  will  bring  him  back  to  the  ground.             ❛❛   we  should  find  somewhere  to  rest  while  i  can  still  hold  myself  upright.   ❜❜

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Aftersun (2022) | Dir. Charlotte Wells

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Plot with arthur morgan. or ELSE

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∞ RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2

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you know who bats her eyelashes at you know who bc she wants to put sunscreen on him

You know who says it's all fine if you know who sunscreens him up as long as she comes out on the boat w him :)

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miraak is braiding nightshade into asgeirr's hair. no he did not ask for permission.

“ Is this supposed to be a reference to something? To a past career maybe? ” They're sneering, but they're happy to be doted on by Miraak. They're practically falling asleep with his hands in their hair!

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watching arthur morgan's va play rdr2. should i bring arthur back

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The final draft is heavy in his hands, completely printed out. It was a project that mostly started out of spite — almost a year ago, some interviewer making a comment on his so-called persona, about how he could be more personable. I'm sorry, do you want me to go back in time and stop the bloke that ran over my mum and da so I can be more personable for you? Some people liked that response, his publisher and others thought he was standoffish. He didn't really care what they thought. Now, he loved the book that came as a result. Conor grips the novel, crossing through this and @saltwaters' living room to hold it out to her. “ Finally finished it. ” He says quietly, letting his arm fall as soon as she takes it. “ Wanted your opinion on it, 'fore I send it off to Marie. ”