Sam/Leo, he/they, 24, multifandom fic writer - mostly FE, AA, XBC (Dragon Age side blog = transandersrights, Arcane side blog = transautisticjayvik)
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people are always slandering historians for saying reasonable things like "some things that seem romantic to us were platonic in the context of the times", when there's so many evil historians you actually have to look out for. number 1 : the closet royalist
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THINGS TO TAKE:
Your time
A nap
A walk
The compliment
Your energy where it’s valued
Deep breaths
Your power back
Your inner child by the hand
Nothing personally
A chance on yourself
It one day at a time
Up space
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Sign-ups for this year’s FE ArtScuffle are OPEN!
This is an art trading game (starting July 1st) welcoming artists and writers of all skill levels. Fight for Team Sword, Lance or Axe by gifting each other drawings or fics of your favorite Fire Emblem characters. Hope to see you there!!
>>> INFO DOC & FAQ <<<
Please read the form carefully 🔽🙂↕️
>>> SIGN-UP FORM <<<
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When people will do a really bizarre reading of some media and then accuse the author of writing it that way.
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how dare the item of clothing i developed a weird attachment to and have worn almost every single day since i bought it start to show signs of wear
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"there should be some kind of test you have to take before having kids" -> wrong, extremely dangerous and highkey eugenicist and racist "the youth should have safe and effective legal pathways at their disposal to make sure their human rights are constantly protected and upheld" -> based, centers the youth, gives minors more power to fight inequality and does not reinforce the idea that parents are immune to scrutiny from their kids
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murderbot: i love all my humans equally. mensah, pin-lee, arada, bharadwaj, ratthi, and (looks at smudged handwriting) grating
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(opening the author’s works page after finishing a fic) and if im lucky they’ll have written this exact same fic but different a bunch more times
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Very whimsical scene on the train yesterday evening
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my problem with "it's fine to cheat in classes that you deem unimportant for your career goals" is that a lot of those classes are either designed to teach critical thinking/research skills OR focused on multiculturalism and social justice
basically it's a great way to dumb down education and produce an even less educated population, and also a great way to materially reward doctors and nurses (etc.) who decided that learning about racism was beneath them
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This morning I came downstairs to discover that the dogs have invented a New Crime.
My husband get up very early for his Real Adult Job, and feeds Charleston (Black-and-cream Sighthound mix, mostly leg) and Herschel (40lb cardigan welsh crime tube), then lets them out into the fenced yard before he leaves.
I get up at the same time but take longer to boot up, so the dogs frolick about and discourage the local tree rats from lingering about the property while I get dressed/brush my teeth/try to not be psychologically crushed by The Horrors (TM)
Now it's pretty normal for me to find Herschel doing a high-speed yet startlingly efficient MC Hammer Shuffle on his stubby little legs around the base of the large honey Locust tree we have in the middle of the yard so he could keep his face pointed directly up the trunk at something in the canopy, because this his how he tries to herd squirrels.
...but Charlie is usually nearby, cheerfully play-bowing and encouraging the squirrel to come down, nothing bad will happen-!
This time Charleston is nowhere in sight.
I go outside to investigate and Herschel pauses to tackle me about the kneecaps as a greeting before returning to the tree.
Charleston is not behind the garden bins, nor in the side yard.
I am growing concerned, when I hear a telltale guilty scrape of claws above me.
Charleston is on the roof.
I shuffle out to the middle of the yard, until I can make eye contact with him.
He looks down at me, cheerfully wagging his tail, clearly anticipating praise for being such a clever boy.
I at least know how he got up there.
My house has a deck built off the second floor with a set of stairs leading up to it, and a large honey locust tree grows next to it. Part of the roof is easily accessible with a small hop from the deck.
The deck has only a minimal amount of railing ad the roof has none, so I blocked off the stairs with a board that was too high for Herschel, an inveterate explorer and criminal, to jump, but not Charlie.
I didn't worry about this at the time because Charleston is, in fact, The Best Dog In The Universe, and understands that even though he *could* easily jump various barriers, it would be *impolite* of him to do so.
Charleston is Extremely Polite and thus almost never commits any crimes.
...Almost Never.
Charlie has exactly two vices, which aren't even vices because his ancestors were bred for millennia to do these two exact things.
The first is that he is HIGHLY leash aggressive when I'm present (We were both attacked by a St. Bernard the first day I had him and Charlie has decided Strange Dogs Are Not Allowed To Approach Me)
The Second is that he has the Prey Drive From Hell.
He has chased bears and bulls with full murderous intent.
He almost got me arrested because he cut his leash to chase a pronghorn antelope in front of a park ranger.
It is only for the sake of my saftey and pursuit of prey that he will break the rules.
Today, he has his nemesis cornered
Charleston isn't clever the way Herschel is. He's never really explored using his toys as tools, whereas Herschel speedran the early stages of hominid tool use as a puppy. Arwen was a logistical sort of genius who managed to terraform my parent's yard into Rabbit Thunderdome.
Charleston's genius is... psychological.
If the Squirrels see both dogs, they run for the fence, but if they only see Herschel, they run for the tree.
Charlie is much better at tracking and guessing the route his prey might go, so Charlie runs for their preferred escape route of the tree instead of chasing them.
The squirrels compensate by running for the fence, which is farther away in general, but they have a head start on the dogs.
At Some Point, charlie managed to work out that if he stays in the shadows under the deck, the squirrels won't see his mostly-black body, especially when Herschel charges into the sunlight and catches it on his white ruff.
Charleston realized, long before I did, that there is only the ONE branch that overhangs the roof, and therefore if a squirrel runs up the tree, it only has ONE way out of the yard.
The real genius was combining all of the above into the realization that he could let Herschel charge the squirrels, run through the under-deck shadows and up to the deck and roof while the squirrels are distracted, and plant himself on the roof where the squirrels HAVE to land without them seeing him until it was too late.
-And so we stand this morning.
Herschel at the foot of the tree, preventing the squirrel from running back down and heading for the fence
Charleston square in the landing zone on the roof, at the ready
The squirrel paralyzed on the branch between them
...and me, only sort of awake and realizing that I'm probably the dumbest mammal here.
I need to figure out how to disentangle these beasts without anyone getting maimed. Charleston has the blood of his ancestors baying for the flesh of his nemesis in his ears. Herschel is dangerously close to figuring out how to get on the roof himself. The squirrel is contemplating some truly dire Maneuvers, including dropping out of the tree and assaulting me to buy time.
I haven't even had my coffee yet.
"Charleston." I say with a very aggravated sigh. "That's not where dogs go."
Charleston whimpers.
He has Disappointed (TM) me.
A fate worse than death.
He starts to walk back to the deck, but as he takes a step to leave, so does the squirrel, and he is pulled back by millennia of instinct.
This will require. Delicacy.
or delicacies.
"Stay. I'll be right back." I tell the dogs.
I go back into the house, and retrieve The Best Treat.
The Cat's Wet Food.
Both dogs crave this Most Forbidden snack with an irrational passion, and it is usually both out of reach in the cat tree AND defended by Mochi, who rules the dogs with an Iron Paw.
I return to the yard, and open the can in full view of both dogs.
"Charlie?" I call. "Do you want Wet Food?"
He is halfway down the stairs before I can finish the question.
Herschel switches his orbit from the tree to my person, and I have to shuffle to avoid tripping over them as we go back inside and the squirrel flees.
None of this is the new crime.
I go out with them later to pull Yet More Thistles, and a few minutes in, I hear a little 'huff' from Charlie.
I look up, and he's standing on the stairs, paw up to indicate he's going to jump over the barrier board and go right back up there.
You know.
...Unless there is wet food to be had.
The children have figured out how to commit extortion. I text my husband.
They're so smart! Do you think we can set them on the jackasses across the street? My husband asks, ever the practical man.
I'm going back to bed.
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I'm a disabled writier who makes my living tellng stories. if you liked this, please consider giving me a Ko-fi tip, or pre-ordering the Family Lore book of stories on my Patreon. Thank you!
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someone in the UK threw eggs at Charles and was arrested and has been banned from openly carrying eggs in public and has since been sent death threats but their statement on the matter was so fucking good

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xenoblade chronicles anniversary paints
(2019-2025)
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