#<- bc of course there is overlap

[wordsofwilderness]

Oh pre-relationship Jegulus how I love u

Narrowing his eyes, Regulus scoffed, “You.” “Me,” James said. The grin on his face made his cheeks hurt, but he couldn’t hold it back even if he tried.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

normal fan activities like going to all the regions in DAI and listening very carefully to see if any cicadas made it into the soundscape so i can decide whether or not they exist in thedas/if i want to use them in this fic

[storfulsten]

silly viera wol alt go brrr

[dennisboobs]

one day i'll post my fic and you can finally witness this monster of a playlist that fuels my insanity

[baeshijima]

IM FREE FROM ASSIGNMENTS FOR THE REST OF 2024

[ardentpoop]

saw a post on here a while ago that was like “calling your favorite fictional guy ‘prince’ doesn’t hit the same as ‘princess’”

not to be a huge asshole but there is a reason for that 😭 guess what word I’m thinking of. M-

[vv-ispy]

The funny thing about getting into danganronpa about ten years later and on the recommendation of a friend and already pretty familiar with ikuhara animes is that I missed all of the "cringe" reputation of the game and instead it really just comes off as societal and ideological commentary but with a really wacky ridiculous setup

[tanumaskoipond]

jaiden, molly, maitiú :)

[vickyvicarious]

She is in gay spirits and full of life and cheerfulness. All the morbid reticence seems to have passed from her, and she has just reminded me, as if I needed any reminding, of that night, and that it was here, on this very seat, I found her asleep.

Yesterday, Dracula's boxes were delivered at last to his Carfax estate in London. Presumably, the Count went along with them. That was his plan from the first, after all.

Today, for the first time, Lucy talks about what happened to her. And not in a single thoughtful murmur to herself while possibly in a trance/flashback... she brings it up to Mina. The way she does so seems like she's trying to make light of a very frightening experience, but she's able to give details when asked. She is willing to talk further despite being disturbed by the memories. The morning after Dracula leaves, while sitting over the spot where he once

It's almost as though, with the Count gone, Lucy is released from some kind of magical compulsion to be silent.

[nostromosdead]

^o^ I’m so excited you are back

I was the previous anon + sent you the archeology meme, I think you’re really cool. Are you studying paleoanthropology specifically? The way you write the quiet yearning and over analyzing every small thing whenever Ripley is around shdjdkfkcjb yes but then also being so unsure about reading into it too much. But also the jaw clench of both trying to talk about suspicions through gritted teeth. And the way you capture atmosphere, you do a great job. I keep coming back to read the 3 chapters you’ve posted. Can’t wait for another update!

ohhh omg hi hello!! <3

Thanks so much for your interest in my writing and studies!! I am in a graduate program that broadly studies different aspects of human evolution. I have peers who are primatologists, evolutionary geneticists, paleoanthropologists, etc. I'm actually a Paleolithic Archaeologist and am specializing in Oldowan stone tools. My undergrad degree is in anthropology, where I specialized in archaeology. I worked as a field archaeologist for a university for a few years before pursuing grad school!

you are so kind !! ghdhdshgd I don't feel super cool, but my DMs and ask box are open any time !!

[bitegore]

baru cormorant seems to me to be a series that suffers miserably for me having read machineries of empire first. unfortunately everything BC is doing strikes me as something MoE did better and more believably and with much a greater and more grounded eye for how systems, complex system interaction, and oppression like. work

[showyoumyfavoriteobsession]

next week we're going into the peak of our conference season (starting on wednesday we'll have 6 conferences in 11 days) and our department's website decided to act up this week so we have to use workarounds for everything and still the most cosmically unfair part to me is that satisfactory 1.0 launches the day before everything gets the most busy which means i absolutely cannot play it for the next two weeks or i will be exhausted and get zero work done

[turbocao]

i get the feeling that sewing is much harder than knitting in the sense that sewing instructions seem fairly simple but then there's 83429 things that can and will go wrong, meanwhile knitting seems completely incomprehensible wizardry at first but you just gotta start and then keep going and you'll eventually get there

i also know this is a distorted vision of both crafts because i am a total beginner at sewing, and if i force myself to remember, i'll realize that my very first knitting projects sucked major ass too and im just somehow expecting to be excellent at sewing even though im only starting

[bishonenspit]

international eroica fans are some of the most ungrateful fans of anything i have ever encountered i stg

[castingcomets]

Every summer I feel like i've grown a lot and I'll do better this time around but then the Autumn hits and the specific way it makes me feel has changed and grown and compounded too and now like every year im sitting here with so much homework feeling so lost and uncertain. And I want to make cookies

[abyssalpriest]

8/12/23

Commentary on a place in Lev's mindapace.

There's a particular valley. Do you remember the first time you ever stood in front of a plane? It's one thing to see them in the sky, tiny, whimsical, but your first holiday where you stand in front of one of them, after the long journey out to it, where it hums and breathes and it becomes not just a fun idea but a grounded machine, huge, present, looming, real, its wings dwarfing all your imagined preconceptions with their heavy, outstretched reality? This valley stretches like that. Holds like that. Great mountains stand like a distant jury of gods, moss browns all over, rich rocks, wind-worn yet fertile, pregnant with bitter cold.

The flat valley fills the gap like the courtroom silence.

Running down the middle of this flat valley is a thin stream, no raging river; it's a whisper compared to the chatter of a busy street. I've always wondered why it was so thin. He often meets me beside it, in fact I don't think I've been anywhere else in these mountains and valley... Cloud-grey rocks smooth and slate-like - flat - interspersed with other shades of mundanity. Tiniest little hardy grasses, or something, small specks of life burning with the Name of his lover.

It's so cold, but it isn't. It feels like how the ocean feels to him, when I've possessed his body and found that the depths of cold and the heights of heat mean little more than suggestions to him. It feels like the sky.

There, that mountain, looking out to a direction that means nothing to you, the reader, that mountain on the left. That's the one, in my head at least, that I see that sacred vision: He lies over it propped up by swords piercing through his back, pieta-esque if he were Jesus and the mountain Mary and yet not, because they don't touch except where his legs drape within her, the tense friction of metal holds him above her so that they could not touch. The handles are decorated with some sort of red tassels, or something, ceremonial...

It's always been in the back of my mind though, the lingering question of why, in this expansive valley, wider than any valley I've ever seen, this stream is so thin and shallow. Maybe up to my ankle, maybe almost as wide as I am tall... Why? Glacially cold, air-clear, thread-like. A creaking mountain of ice haunts this place, a mountain of ice and restraint; I say that, I see Lev strung up by the hands vividly but in little detail beyond abstract Bacon-esque suggestions of a solemn, physically taut and twisted form... It isn't tragic, nor is it in any way painful, though. It is like mellification or self-immolation: beautiful, sustained, preserved, meditative-blissful, it is like ice, isn't it. To be the piercingly cold Day sky and its entourage of cloud-bodies - the rain picks up heaviness outside my physical window as I type - to slowly melt and drip with such self-restraint... His connection to her is the devotion of a monk to his monastery, his people, and his God.